Annaig felt as if layers of cloth were wrapped around her, muffling everything, hiding what Glim ought to be able to see, trapping anything she could say that might help in dense warp and weft.
“I’m sorry, Glim, it’s all I could think of,” was the best she could do, and she saw now that it wasn’t good enough, might never be good enough.
“Listen,” she said, reaching to soothe his spines, “I know this is a lot right now. I know you may hate me. But I need to tell you a few things, about what I’m planning-”
“No,” Glim said, jerking away from her touch. “I’ve had it with your plans, with doing things your way. I’m finished with it.”
“Glim, listen,” she said, but he turned and stamped from the room. She went after him, but his wet footprints led to the balcony and ended there. She stood looking down at the spreading ripples far below, while Fhena came and stood by her.
“Go back to the Fringe Gyre,” she told Fhena. “I’m sure he’ll find you there, if he doesn’t get killed again immediately. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
Fhena nodded and padded silently away, leaving Annaig staring out at the wonder and madness that was Umbriel.
Her locket chimed.
She held it up and stared at it for a moment, then flipped it open.
Attrebus looked like he hadn’t slept in a month.
“Hello,” he said. “How are you?”
“As best as can be expected,” she replied.
“Look,” he said, “I may not have long. Sul and I think we’ve found a way to get up there. I’m not sure exactly when it will happen or where we’ll be.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Hierem, my father’s minister-he’s in league with Umbriel. We think he’s been traveling up there and back using a magical portal. We’re hoping when he comes down, we’ll go back up.”
The threads about her seemed to tighten.
“What can I do?”
“We’re going to try to use the sword, as we discussed earlier,” he said. “I’m not exactly sure what will happen then, even if we manage it. But I thought you should know, so you can be ready if-if any chance for escape comes.”
“What about you?”
“When it’s all over, Sul may be able to take us into Oblivion again.”
To her ear, it almost sounded like he didn’t care if he survived.
“Attrebus,” she said, “I’m sorry if I seemed angry before-”
“It’s okay. I think… I think maybe you had a right to be. I think we might have to talk about that someday.”
“Right,” she said. “Someday.”
“I’m going to put Coo up now-I need to be ready to fight whenever this happens. I just wanted you to know what was going on. If I have a chance to contact you after we get there, I’ll try.”
“Do that,” she said.
The locket went dark.
She took one last look at the vista beyond the balcony and then began striding purposefully toward her kitchen.
Hours passed, and Attrebus began to fear that perhaps Vineben was right, and Hierem had no intention of returning to the Imperial City. The wait did provide the time for a fuller exchange of information, but beyond that it was sheer torture. His mind kept trying to return to the feelings Hierem had violated him with, and he feared if he let that happen he would be useless in any confrontation, and so pressed for more conversation when he could.
“Arese?”
“Yes, Prince Attrebus?”
“You say you worked for my father.”
She glanced at her companion, but he didn’t give any sort of reaction. She pulled her shoulders back.
“I was at one time in his small circle, majesty.”
“You have the brand?”
She nodded and reached to show him, but he shook his head.
“That’s okay. I believe you.” He took a deep breath. “So you knew, then? About me?”
“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Prince-”
“I’m sure you know exactly what I mean,” he said.
She made a little grimace, and then acknowledged with a tilt of her head.
“Can you tell me why?” he asked.
“Your father-he’s a brilliant general, a cunning emperor. I’ve never known a man so strong. But when it came to you, he always had something of a weak spot.”
“Weak spot? My father doesn’t have a sentimental bone in his body.”
“I don’t mean that way,” she said. “I mean he had no idea what to do with you. When Hierem suggested you be groomed as a sort of boy hero, I think he was relieved to have some sort of direction. It was a way to keep an eye on you and keep you entertained at the same time.”
“Yes, when I was ten, I might see that,” Attrebus said. “But when I was fifteen? Nineteen?”
“Sometimes when something like that gets started, it takes on a life of its own. No one saw how far it was going to go, how locked into the role you would be. It’s been ten years since I could talk freely with the Emperor, but I’m sure he was hoping to draw you out of it gradually, marry you, settle you down, prepare you to rule.”
Attrebus absorbed that, remembering Gulan saying something about marriage not long before…
“I got them all killed,” he murmured. “And I should have known better. I should have seen it myself, but I didn’t want to. And for that, everyone who rode with me-”
“Hierem did that, not you,” Vineben cut in.
“He’s right,” Sul said tersely. “This is no time for this sort of thing.” His voice softened a little. “Maybe you should do what he suggests-go to your father. If I can’t kill Vuhon by myself…” He trailed off.
“Then me being there won’t help?” Attrebus finished. “What about all of that about needing Coo?”
“I’ll find him,” Sul replied.
“I’m not the warrior you are,” Attrebus admitted. “I’ve got no arcane arts. But if I hadn’t been with you in the cave, Elhul would have killed you.”
“Maybe,” Sul admitted.
“You need me.”
Sul was taking a breath to say something else when Attrebus heard a thud loud enough to leave his ears ringing and his stomach threatening to rush up and out of his mouth. He swayed, trying not to lose his footing. It was dark, and someone was standing right in front of him.
“Vuhon!” Sul snarled.
The Dunmer’s eyes arched in surprise and his mouth opened, but before he had a chance to say anything, Sul had already stabbed him with Umbra; the blade went in deep.
Vuhon vented an odd little gasp as Sul yanked the sword out and cut at his head, but the Dark Elf caught the blade with his hand, which burned with a steely blue light.
Attrebus swung Flashing at the joint of Vuhon’s leg; the blade struck, but it felt as if he’d hit iron. Vuhon ignored him in favor of striking Sul with his other hand, sending the sorcerer staggering back.
Attrebus was making another cut when Vuhon’s eye flicked to him, and suddenly he felt unbelievable cold spike through his body. He lost the timing of his attack, and Vuhon easily sidestepped the blow and caught him by the collar.
Then a bellowing Sul smashed into Vuhon, stabbing him again, and they all went out into space.
Animal terror passed through Attrebus as the world, the starry sky, and dark Umbriel spun nightmarishly around him. The fall seemed to go on much too long, but in reality he knew he’d only drawn one good breath for screaming before they struck a strangely yielding surface. Fire flashed and he was buffeted away as if by an enormous burning hand. He flailed to get up, but the surface he’d landed on shifted crazily.
Then he understood where he was-on top of the glass forest.
It was the best name he had for it; it was where Sul and he had arrived on their last visit here. Far below, a great web of flexible, glasslike cables anchored to various buildings along the rim formed a large web suspended over the valley and sump below. From the web, hundreds of smaller tubes grew skyward, branching, and those branches dividing until they at last became a virtual cloud of translucent twigs no bigger around than a little finger-and it was this upper layer they had fallen on.