“How can they do this? Such sorcery was possible on the home world but not here. Or so I was always led to believe.”
“Things have changed. In the vaults beneath this Palace, Xephan has placed an artefact. The Black Mirror. It can be used to draw on the powers that swirl in the voids between worlds. I have seen something like it before.”
“What would that be, your Majesty?”
“It reminds me of the Angel’s gateways we used to walk between worlds. I suspect it is something similar to them.”
Tamara schooled her features to blandness. Was it possible that the Black Mirror was more than simply a way to communicate with Al’Terra? Was it really a gateway? Asea was supposed to have closed the way behind them- what if someone had found a way to re-open it? Her father had always claimed it was possible. There were other things to think about here as well. She considered what she had seen and heard on her journey. She thought of things her father had told her about the wars of Al’Terra.
“Plague is a two-edged weapon.”
“I said that already.”
“What if it strikes down the Terrarchs?”
“Xephan assures me it cannot. We are immune. It affects only humans.”
“What about our humans? What about our serfs?”
“He claims he has the means of protecting them.”
“What if he is wrong?”
“Yes, indeed, Tamara, what if he is wrong? What if the plague claims all our property?”
“You have put this to him,” Tamara asked then remembered to add, “Majesty.”
“I have.” The Empress seemed reluctant to speak on.
“And?”
“And he said, better that all the humans die than our culture be submerged.”
Tamara looked out of the windows at the ships floating on the sea. They seemed tiny and unreal at this distance, toy ships on a pond. The people on the docks were mere insects. She reminded herself that they were not. They were living creatures. “What?”
“He is right, you know. About that at least. The humans breed too fast. They outnumber us a hundred to one already. In a few centuries it will be a thousand to one. They will have the numbers and the guns to overthrow us if a leader should emerge. Remember Koth?”
“What Terrarch could forget?”
“Imagine a Koth with an army ten times the size of the one he had and modern flintlocks instead of the old matchlocks.”
“Was that idea put to you by Xephan?”
The Empress paused for a moment and considered. “Yes. It was.”
“I wonder why? Did he say how he is going to protect our humans?”
“He has the sorcery.”
“What if he does not?”
“You are surely not suggesting that he would lie about that?”
“Let us consider the fact that he might. Can you imagine what would happen if word got out to the First Families, that we deliberately destroyed their stock of humans?” Tamara thought it better to include herself in that we, although she was sure that Arachne would understand who would really be blamed.
“Why would he do that? Xephan has as much to lose as the rest of us.”
“With all due respect, Majesty, I do not think that is the case. His family is old but it is not rich. I think he has always held a secret resentment against the First Families and this might be a way to destroy their power.” Tamara was making this up to discredit Xephan but even as she said it she saw that there was something to it. “Also if he could control the armies of the dead, he would command the greatest legion in the history of this world.”
This point too was not lost on the Empress. If the humans enjoyed a huge numerical advantage then the dead enjoyed a similar one, and they were considerably less troublesome to lead. “You think he seeks the throne?”
“I do not know, Majesty. It sounds like madness. Who would want to rule an Empire of walking corpses?” She stressed her words, making sure Arachne understood her meaning. Even if Xephan did not supplant her, she might end up the monarch of exactly such an Empire.
“That would not be how it would be,” said Arachne. “We all know that no plague is one hundred per cent fatal. There would be human survivors, their numbers reduced to a manageable level. We could start a breeding program and soon there would be no shortage of servants and farmhands. It would be like culling deer.”
Tamara fought to keep her mouth closed. Was that the only objection the Empress could see here-that there might be a temporary shortage of servants?
“You really have discussed this possibility with Xephan then?”
Arachne’s fists clenched. She looked shame-faced and angry. “Yes.”
Tamara pictured a repeated cycle of human population growth and control, of pogrom and plague and massacre. There was a certain demented logic to it, if you accepted the underlying premise that the whole of Terrarch civilisation was threatened. She could not keep the words from her lips or the scorn from her voice. “Is this what Terrarch civilisation means? Would an Empire that would do such a thing be worth protecting?”
“Xephan said that the weak would say such things. That ruthless decisions were necessary to save our world.”
“And do you agree with him?”
The Empress stood tall for a moment, and Tamara wondered if she had gone too far. She doubted that Arachne was used to being addressed in quite this fashion. The Empress reached out a hand, her fingers curled in threatening claws, and Tamara feared that she was going to try and rip her face, but then the Empress’s hands fell to her side, limp and powerless. Her voice was very soft. “No. I do not agree with him.”
She stood waiting, like a prisoner condemned, and it came to Tamara that perhaps Arachne suspected her of being Xephan’s agent after all, and that she would report this conversation to the sorcerer.
“Then what do you intend to do about it?”
“What can I do?”
“You are the Empress. You could denounce him or sack him.”
“I could end up dead, like my mother.”
“Xephan did not kill your mother. He was not even born when that happened.”
“Someone did. I used to think it was Asea. Now I am not so sure.”
“Who do you think did it?”
“I don’t know. I am simply no longer certain it was her.”
“Why?”
“Let us say I am no longer as naive as I was back then. Now I ask who benefited from splitting the Empire and placing me on the throne. Once I thought it was natural justice that people would want me there.”
Did the Empress really expect her to believe that? From her expression she apparently did. Perhaps it had really been that way, or perhaps it was now simply more convenient for the Empress to believe it was the case. Perhaps it had become necessary for her to rewrite history and forget her old hatreds. There was a long silence and the two of them stared at each other.
“What do you want from me, Majesty?” Tamara said, eventually.
“I want your help against Xephan.”
“You intend to oppose him then?”
“If I can. You must still have some contact with your father’s followers. Some of them will be loyal to you. Some of them might be able to help us against them.”
Once again Tamara felt her scalp prickling and a warning to be careful whispering in her mind. She did not feel at all easy with the way things were developing here. It occurred to her that the Empress and Xephan might be in league, and trying to use her to ferret out any remnants of those who would oppose their plans.
“I do not know who would follow me, Majesty,” said Tamara.
“Then we must seek allies elsewhere.”
“I do not follow you.”
“We must let Asea and my sister know what is happening. Xephan must be stopped.”
Tamara was truly shocked. Arachne appeared completely sincere and reconciled to what she was saying.
“Even if they help it might cost you the Empire, majesty.”
Arachne’s face was bleak. “I have already lost the Empire. The only question remains is whether I will be a figurehead in whose name dreadful evil is worked. Much to my surprise I find that I am not prepared to be.”