“What I find most interesting,” Maikel Staynair said slowly, “is the use of the Seijin Kohdy code phrase. That suggests at least some knowledge of Helm Cleaver and the Sisters.”
“Which could simply mean they managed to torture at least some information out of Zhorzhet and Marzho before they died,” Cayleb said harshly, his eyes grim.
“True.” Staynair nodded in his archbishop’s palace’s bedchamber, sitting up in bed while he scratched the belly fur of the purring cat-lizard luxuriating across his lap. “And I suppose they’re really simply attempting to bait Ahrloh into confirming his own membership in Helm Cleaver by responding to the code phrase. But I have to agree with Nynian. It doesn’t have that sort of feel to me.”
“And whether it’s a trap or not, it has to be explored,” Wave Thunder said. “The possibility of making a contact at that level simply can’t be ignored.”
“Well, that leaves us in a bit of a quandary,” Nahrmahn pointed out. “Owl and I picked up on this as soon as Ahrloh put the message into the system, but if we want to explore this—in time for it to do any good, at least—we can’t wait for that message to reach us. Besides, most of Nynian’s conduits are down now. Nobody’s passing any semaphore messages or couriers across the front lines at the moment. In fact, the only conduit that’s still up is the messenger wyvern route through Dohlar and the South March, and they’re running out of wyverns. We won’t be able to get them replacements anytime soon, either.”
“Then there’s really only one way to do it,” Merlin said calmly.
“You’d be in awfully close proximity to the Temple if something goes wrong!” Duke Delthak said sharply. “Ahrloh’s shop’s well inside the safety margin you set for any active use of Federation technology. If this is a trap, you couldn’t get the recon skimmer in close enough to pull you out of it.”
“I don’t see that as a deal breaker,” Nimue said from the late-afternoon Manchyr. “Maybe the skimmer couldn’t pull us out, but having a pair of seijins cut their way out of the city on foot against everything the Guard could throw at them couldn’t exactly help Clyntahn’s position!”
“Perhaps not,” Nynian said, “but I’m afraid there is no ‘us’ in this for you, Nimue.”
“I beg your pardon?” Nimue’s tone was on the sharp side, Nynian only shook her head with a thin smile.
Either it’s possible for a PICA to get out of Zion even if something under the Temple wakes up, or it’s not. If it is, we don’t need two PICAs. If it isn’t, we can’t afford to lose both the PICAs we have. That means only one of you is going. Since Ahrloh’s met Seijin Zoshua, Merlin’s the logical choice instead of you. And if Merlin’s going, so am I.”
There was a moment of profound silence over the com link, and Nynian turned her head to meet Merlin Athrawes’ cybernetic eyes. Their gazes locked, and he saw the unyielding steel behind her eyes.
“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” he said, after a moment.
“I am.”
Her voice was flat, as unyielding as her expression, and he sat back in his chair. He doubted she could have fully analyzed her own reasoning, but that didn’t really matter. Everything within him wanted to argue, to tell her no, to refuse to take her … and he couldn’t. She’d given too much, risked too much, lost too much getting to this point for him to even try to protect her against her will.
“Then that’s good enough for me,” he said simply instead. “Owl, we’ll need the recon skimmer.”
.V.
Ahrloh Mahkbyth’s Fine Wines and Spirits,
Mylycynt Court,
City of Zion,
The Temple Lands.
“If I’d known you were going to come in person, I’d never have forwarded the message,” Ahrloh Mahkbyth said grimly.
“And if I’d had to wait for your message to reach me, I wouldn’t have gotten here in time for you to worry about it,” Nynian told him, looking up from the bottle of wine whose label she’d been examining. “This is a very good year, Ahrloh. How many more bottles of it do you have?”
“I’d have to check the ledger,” he said repressively. “And don’t try to distract me.”
“I’m not trying to distract you from anything. I’d just like to take a dozen or so bottles with me when we leave.” She slid the bottle gently back into the rack with the reverence the vintage deserved and smiled at him. “Helping you get established really was one of my better investments … in a lot of ways.”
He glared at her for a moment, then turned to her much taller companion.
“Can’t you make her show a little sense, Seijin Zoshua?” he demanded.
“I doubt anyone’s made her do anything since she was six years old,” Zoshua Murphai replied philosophically. “And I’m fairly sure her nanny had to negotiate bath times with her for at least three years before she turned six.”
“I don’t understand why everyone thinks I’m so stubborn.” Nynian shook her head as she crossed to a display of paper-thin, hand-blown Harchongese brandy snifters. She picked one up and held it to the light, admiring the exquisite workmanship. “If people would just recognize the impeccable logic of my position in the first place, we could save a lot of time that otherwise gets wasted arguing.”
“That’s all well and good,” Mahkbyth said. “But it’s entirely possible they managed to break Zhorzhet or Marzho before they died, and you know it. That could explain exactly how he got that recognition phrase. And if it is, if this truly is some sort of trap, you’re the one person in all the world we can least afford to deliver to them, Ahnzhelyk!”
“And we won’t,” she told him calmly, setting the snifter back on the display stand, and turned to face him with a serene smile. “I can’t guarantee it isn’t a trap, but if it is, they aren’t going to take us by surprise the way they must have surprised Zhorzhet and Marzho.” She stepped closer to him and laid one hand on his forearm. “And if they can’t surprise us, they won’t be capturing anyone will they?”
He looked at her grimly for a moment, but then, finally, he shook his head.
“That’s not really all that much better an outcome from Helm Cleaver’s perspective, you know,” he pointed out.
“Maybe not, but it’s a far better one from my perspective.” She squeezed his forearm gently. “And it wouldn’t really be all that disastrous from Helm Cleaver’s point of view, either. Inconvenient, perhaps, but Axman is safely back home in the Republic, in contact with Cayleb and Sharleyan and all of Seijin Zoshua’s … associates. They’re fully capable of coordinating Helm Cleaver’s operations if anything unfortunate were to happen to me.”
Mahkbyth nodded a shade unwillingly. He didn’t know that “Axman” was Sandaria Ghatfryd, but he’d received several messages from Axman over the years in which he’d commanded Helm Cleaver.
“Besides, I have to be sure your new friend’s telling us the truth, don’t I?” Nynian continued.