“How can we release her, then?” said Sancia. “What can I do?”
“You?” he said. “You’ll do nothing. This is my task. My burden, and mine alone.”
“What do you mean? I thought the key was eroding, falling apart?”
“Oh, it is,” he said. “But the more the walls fall away, the more control I have. And I might not have strength enough to open Valeria’s box — but I do have strength enough to restore the key to its original state. And that can open the box.”
She considered this. “But…if the key is restored to the original state…then would we be able to talk? To speak? To be…friends?”
He smiled at her sadly. “No.”
She sat back, shocked. “But…but that’s not fair.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“I…I don’t want you to scrumming die, Clef! And I know it’s not really death, but it’s damned well close enough!”
“Well. You don’t really have a choice, I’m afraid. This is my choice. But it was good to speak to you, and I had to warn you of what awaits, before we part ways.”
“So…so this is good-bye?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “It is.” Something loud clanked above her, and the machine began to whirl. “Remember — move thoughtfully, give freedom to others, and you’ll rarely do wrong, Sancia. I’ve learned that now. I wish I’d known it in life.”
Something rattled and clattered, and a huge wheel began to move above.
“Good-bye, Sancia,” he whispered.
Then there was the whir of machinery, the hum of gears, and things went white.
Sancia opened her eyes.
She was still in the Mountain, still standing on that tiny shred of floor with Estelle and Tribuno, and the box was still before her, glowing red hot…
Yet Clef was moving. She felt him turn again in her hand, like some part of the lock that had previously resisted her finally gave way.
There was a deep, echoing clank from somewhere within the box. It sounded like it was echoing within an impossibly vast space — one much, much larger than the box itself.
“What did you do?” screamed Estelle. “What did you d—”
Then the lid of the box clunked, and swung back.
A blinding, bright light shone from its interior, as if the sun itself were inside the stone box, and there was a tremendous screeching sound, like enormous metal wheels braking across vast tracks in the sky. Sancia cried out and covered her eyes with one arm, her other hand on Clef, and tried to look away. Yet the light seemed to be everywhere, bathing everything, burning into her, and somewhere she heard a sound like thousands of clocks chiming in a faraway room…
Then the blaze died, the screeching and chiming stopped, and suddenly the box was just a box, cracked and old and empty.
Sancia blinked and looked around. She was still where she was, but…things looked different. The colors were muted and strange, as if a bit of light had leeched out of everything.
Then she heard the clicking — soft and steady, like the rivets and brackets of a massive clock — and she saw her.
Standing at the edge of the broken bit of floor, staring out at the cityscape of Tevanne: a woman made of gold.
But this was not the small, slender thing Sancia had glimpsed in Tomas’s jail cell. This figure was huge — eight feet tall, nine feet, it was strangely hard to tell. Her shoulders were broad, her arms thick, and she was not like a sculpture now, not a human form wrought of gold — instead she appeared to be wearing gold-plate armor, and through the cracks of the armor there seemed to be…something.
Something clicking, something whirring and writhing.
A voice echoed in Sancia’s ears, at once close and distant: “I know these skies,” said Valeria’s voice softly. The huge, golden woman pointed. “Once there were stars there. Four of them. I pulled them down and hurled them upon the heads of my foes, even as they assailed upon my bulk…to no avail. At least, not yet.” She shifted on her feet. “Later they would find a way to kill the very stars. Deprive me of my favorite weapons. But, once, there were stars there.”
Sancia looked around, or at least tried to — but suddenly she couldn’t move. It was like she’d been frozen in place. She looked out of the corner of her eye, and could see Estelle and Tribuno there — yet they seemed frozen too. It was as if Valeria’s arrival had frozen the whole of the world.
Slowly, the hulking figure turned. The clicking increased, like the chatter of insects on a hot afternoon. Valeria’s face, Sancia saw, was now a mask, a blank, calm, golden mask with no apertures for eyes or a mouth. Her hair was like a carving, gold ringlets spilling down her vast shoulders.
“And you, little bird,” she said. She walked closer to the frozen Sancia, and with each step she seemed larger and larger, until she was a vast statue, staring down with golden eyes.
My God, thought Sancia, terrified. What have I set loose?
“You,” said Valeria. “You freed me.” She knelt — a long, slow process — and stared into Sancia’s face with her blank, masked eyes. “I owe you a debt — true?”
Sancia could not move, but she glanced in the direction of Estelle and Tribuno. Valeria turned to look. “Ah. Yes. The elevation. You desire I intervene? That I intended to do regardless. Another Maker — not optimal.”
There was a shiver in the air, and suddenly Valeria was gone. Then Sancia spied her out of the corner of her eye, bending low over Tribuno and Estelle and doing…well, something, to the golden dagger in Estelle’s hand.
The clicking increased, growing so loud, so harsh, like a swarm of wary, terrified cicadas.
There was a pulse in the wind, like someone had slammed a large door in a small room.
“There,” said Valeria’s voice. “A simple fix…”
There was another shiver, and suddenly a shadow fell across her, and Sancia knew Valeria was now behind her — and from the size of the shadow, she had somehow grown, grown so tall…
“A debt is still owed to you,” said Valeria’s voice. “One day we shall decide how it will be repaid in full. For now — tread carefully, little bird. An old monster has been hiding in your city. And tonight, you have made an enemy of him. He will not forgive you for this. So, as I said — tread carefully.”
There was a tremble in the air. The clicking rose to a shriek — and went silent. The shadow vanished, and then…
Sancia collapsed onto the ground, groaning. She lay there for a moment — her body ached in countless places — then she shook herself and looked around.
Valeria was gone. The box stood open, yet it seemed to hold nothing anymore.
Did that really happen? Or did I imagine it?
Then Sancia saw Estelle and Tribuno. Tribuno was clearly dead. Estelle was still gripping the dagger.
“What…what happened?” Estelle said faintly. “Why isn’t it working anymore?”
Sancia looked at the dagger. It wasn’t gold anymore — now it seemed to be common iron, and it bore no sigils at all.
“Why aren’t I immortal?” said Estelle. “Why…why aren’t I a hierophant?”
There was a soft pattering as Estelle’s blood fell to the floor. Then she lost her strength and sank down the side of the bed, pawing uselessly at its legs.