“Well,” said Domino Tight, “that is where it begins to grow complicated.”
The two of them left the tunnel for the riverbank. It was fully night now and the Minor Moon was rising steadily in the east. In another day it would overtake the Major Moon. A Dao Chettian countryman could tell time with fair precision by the relative positions of the two moons. The north wind smelled of fish and of methane vapors from the mantle subjection wells northeast of the city.
“Do you really think they are walking into a trap?” said Domino Tight.
“I think they will succeed in assassinating just those Names Gidula wishes dead, at which point their luck will sour.”
“My … special friend … thought the purge could be done without undue bloodshed.”
“Your friend is that most dangerous of creatures: a ruthless naïf. This fight is among the Names; it is others’ blood they meant to shed. Is this the spot where you kill me?”
“Yes, and your body goes into the river over there. The frawtha—the ‘official truth’—will be that you stepped outside for fresh air, a Protector river patrol spotted you, and, rather than lead them to us, you dove into the river to draw them away.”
“Brave and noble to the end.”
“Gidula wants you dead, not your legend.”
The scarred man laughed and tossed his head. “The irony is that Padaborn was not so heroic. He betrayed me.”
Domino Tight looked at him. “You’re not Padaborn? Ah. Now a few things make sense.”
“I am happy for you.”
“No. You see, there were rumors that Padaborn had buckled under threat of torture, and then they tortured him anyway in case he had forgotten to tell them anything, and when they were done there was not enough of him left to bother with. He was with the smoke. But I dismissed those stories as propaganda, because other rumors held that he had escaped and was in clever concealment—‘in the one place no one will look.’ So when Gidula announced he had located you, him in the Periphery … It gave us all heart.”
“But…,” suggested Donovan. A night bird swooped across the face of the river and the moons-light revealed a two-shadowed fish rising in the claws of something large.
“Yes. My ‘special friend’ took your daughter and me to her Residence; and there, for whatever reason of her own, she told us … You see, Padaborn won—by proxy. After his Rising, a faction calling themselves the Committee of Names Renewed declared that the best way to prevent a future Rising was to address the real abuses that the Paderbornians had complained of. Not everything, understand. They thought they could file and trim around the edges, what they called fairezdroga. So there was a…”
“Coup d’état.”
“Yah. They made a sweep of the Old Guard: forced some into retirement, imprisoned others, encouraged the remainder to a life of sloth and indolence, and cut deals with those they thought they could deal with. Of course, what the Committee learned was that if you cut and trim around the edges to save what you can, you will trim too much for the Old Guard and not enough for the Reformers.”
The Fudir knew astonishment. “And no one knew this was happening?”
“Which part of Secret City is unclear? I chose the Revolution to expunge the Names entirely. Now I find that I have been fighting the Committee at the behest of the Old Guard.”
“Wait! The Revolution is supporting the Old Guard?”
“Why? Is that unprecedented? Gidula has targeted the Committee—and the abdicators among the Old Guard. The abdicators fall first—and this will convince the Protectors that the loyalists have broken the Concord, and may induce them to attack the Committee themselves. Think what a propaganda coup it will be when Gidula reveals that Padaborn himself fought to restore the Old Guard, especially if Padaborn is too dead to deny it.”
“Why is Gidula doing this?” said Donovan. “He told me the tapestry must be repaired, not destroyed.”
Domino Tight shrugged. “Gidula told many different people many different things. Some of them may have been true. Some of them may have been what Gidula wanted to be true. My special friend does not know.”
“Then confusion may be precisely what Gidula is counting on! The Old One has goals of his own and whether the Names fall or rise are small matters to him, so long as there is confusion. This will not stay within bounds; this is not another of your pasdarms. If your special friend has Méarana in her Residence, that puts her in a potential kill space … How long before the Hounds arrive?”
Domino Tight looked away. “As soon as we were in her Residence, Tina Zhi dispatched a thermal bomb to the apartment. She had seen Hounds, and acted reflexively before I could brief her. I do not know if any survived.”
“How long before the Hounds arrive?” the Fudir insisted.
“If they have a fast ship … They would be no more than a day and a half behind Gidula, so … by morning. Do you think they will come for you?”
“No. But they’ll come for Méarana. Now, I’ve left the messages for Pyati to find. You can call your lady friend by name the second time. Yes, I figured that part out. I need to disappear from here and I need to rescue Méarana from there, and what better way than that your friend should take me from here to there. Then we need to reach the Offices, clandestinely. We’ll be safe there. For a while.”
“One thing more.” Domino Tight unfastened his locator from his belt and flung it far out across the river. He followed it with Donovan’s own. “Being the only person to share a secret with Gidula makes my shoulder blades itch.” And then he called upon Tina Zhi.
Pyati wept uncontrollably when he and his team returned to the assembly point. He fell to his knees and beat his chest alternately with each fist while tears streamed down his cheeks. Padaborn’s other magpies keened antiphonally. The others found them in this state when they returned two by two.
“Silence, fools!” Gidula hissed. “Sound may echo from this tube as from a trumpet…”
“Sir,” said Pyati, “our Shadow is perished. Would you the traditional mourning deny us?”
“Perished!” Gidula said. His countenance expressed shock. “How?” The others began to mutter. Manlius said, “Ill omen.” Dawshoo looked stunned, “Are we discovered?” Oschous said nothing but watched Gidula carefully. Big Jacques looked into the dark recesses of the tunnel with his lamp, “Where is Domino Tight?”
Gidula gestured them all to silence. “No, Dawshoo, we are not discovered. Or we won’t be if we keep our voices down. One Padaborn! How do you know your master is perished?”
Pyati wiped his nose on his sleeve and picked up a roll of cloth and a note screen. He thumbed the note screen and handed it over to the Old One. Eglay Portion peered over one shoulder, Oschous Dee peered over the other. “Lord Domino left this,” the magpie said. “He explains how to mislead a Protector patrol Padaborn into the river dove—and drowned. Lord Domino, having failed his charge, committed spookoo. He too into the river consigned himself. Oh, if only we had by our master’s side remained!” He and his companions began to weep again but, acknowledging earlier advice, shed more quiet tears.
Gidula read the apologia that Domino Tight had left and, when he finished, Oschous took it from him, and it gradually made the rounds of the gathered Shadows.
“I don’t like this,” Manlius Metataxis said. “Maybe we should fold the play.”
Gidula’s head whipped round. “No! We have come too far to hesitate now. This chance will not come to us again. We can end this war. We can end it tonight. We can…” And he paused for a moment and worked his throat in sorrow. “… we can avenge Geshler Padaborn.”