Juvalgrim stopped as he reached the feet of the groveling Primes, moved a hand in a graceful gesture that took in them and the rows of terrified suppliants and acolytes shivering on their stools. “You’ve made your point, heshim.” His voice was like honey butter on hot bread, rich and satisfying. Famtoche lost his scowl and the hostas stirred, their leather creaking, metal clanking against metal. Juvalgrim brought his fingertips together, bowed his head slightly, his hair whispering across the rawsilk robe. “How may we serve you, O Amrapake?”
Famtoche Banddah brought his hand down flat against the chair arm, a sharp splatting sound that shattered the mood the High Kasso had created. “That Barrier or whatever it is, it mocks us and Chumavayal. Why do you permit it to exist, High Kasso?”
Juvalgrim tilted his hand in a gesture that conceded the disruption of the mood he’d tried to create. “Permit, Amrap? It is god-business, not mine.” His caressing voice once again drained much of the crackle from the air.
“I thought god was your business.”
“If Chumavayal wishes it gone, he’ll take it down. I can do nothing without his willing it. I am his servant, not his master.”
“Words!” Famtoche Banddah leaned forward. “You’re good at words, Kasso. Saying is you can talk your way through a wormhole. Talk your way round this. Fulaak.”
The chief guard stepped behind Juvalgrim, set the point of his grace-dagger at the Kasso’s throat.
Juvalgrim was silent for a breath, his face was as calm as it had been from the beginning; there was a look to him that Famtoche didn’t like, a resignation that took away one of his most powerful weapons, the fear of death. “You can kill me easily enough,” the High Kasso said. Honey-butter voice, beautiful and tranquil. “But what will it gain you?”
“Will you bring the Barrier down?”
“I cannot.”
“Try.”
“Do you think Chumavayal is a dog to come when he is called?”
“Try.’
‘
“No.’’
Fuaz Yoyote lifted his dirt-streaked face. “The children,” he said. “The foundlings. If you want him to act, bring them into it.”
“Ah. The Worm speaks. Stand, Worm. Betray your fellow Worm, if you will.”
“Betray?” Fuaz got stiffly to his feet, grunting with pain. “It’s him who betrays us. Do-Nothing, that’s what we call him. His pretty little bedmates are all he listens to
Famtoche Banddah pursed his lips, eyed Yoyote with interest. “Run away, little Prime, bring me back some leverage.”
› › ‹ ‹
Famtoche Banddah stroked his thumb along his jaw and contemplated the two boys. “Your names?”
The blue-eyed boy glared at him, pressed his lips into a thin line.
The other one bobbed his head in a hasty bow. “Houen, heshim Amrap. And my friend is Sivvy.”
Famtoche nodded, clicked his fingernails on the chair arm. “Well, Kasso? Do I have to explain? If your imagination fails you, Fulaak would be happy to provide details.”
The High Kasso’s eyes glittered so briefly Famtoche was unsure he saw anything, then they were blank and dull as smoked glass. “I will make the attempt, Amrap. But I tell you this, the Barrier is Abeyhamal’s work. No man has power over a god.”
“More than an attempt, Kasso, or these toys of yours will blood the dirt.”
Juvalgrim’s nostrils flared and his eyes flickered again. Over his shoulder, he said, “I will remember this, Manasso.” He took a deep breath, turned to Famtoche Banddah. “If you trust that viper, you’re a bigger fool than I think. I’ve said I’ll try. I can’t do more.”
“We’ll see. Fulaak, take the boys out, bring them to the Bridge when the Kasso’s ready to work.”
“Wake up, Fa. Come on, you gotta see.”
Faan groaned and turned over. “Teesee,” she muttered.
“Tai said you slept long enough; you should get dressed and do some walking around.” Ma’teesee slapped Faan’s shoulder, then went running across the room to the wardrobe where she dug through the clothing on the hooks, began throwing things on a hassock. “It’s sommme-thing,” she said, “something and a half, Fa. Whole Camuctarr’s marching down the mountain.”
Faana pushed up, then hunched over with her arms pressed against her stomach, nauseated and filled with a low level ache. “What are you talking about?”
Ma’teesee tossed a towel at her. “Tai said the Amrapake must’ve bullied the High Kasso into coming at the Barrier. I wish I’d seen that. He’s a beautiful man, the Kasso is. I ever tell you? I went up the Mountain a couple times when he was singing the Praises at Midsummer. Just to look at him. Tai said you’d better get dressed, Honey Mother could be calling you any minute. She’s got a bath ready. Come on, Fa”
“Gods! Vema vema, I’m awake. Why aren’t you working?”
“01’ Wewesh turned us loose for the day. No customers so he din’t want to pay us. You hungry at all? The Kassian says she gonna warm up some soup.”
“Gahhh. Don’t talk about food. Hmm. I’ll crawl around in a little, wait for me in the parlor, huh?”
“Vema, Fa.”
› › ‹ ‹
When the great iron gong above the Blessing Gate began sounding the Announcement, the Salagaum climbed to the roof and watched the Procession wind down the Sacred Way.
Goandee hitched a hip on the parapet. “Putting on a show for the Amrapake, that’s what it is,” he said. “Trust Juvalgritri to do it a treat. An’t that so, Rey?” he called out to Reyna who was on the other side of the roof, scowling at the mist eddying through the streets of the Low City. He was worried about Faan; she hadn’t been across to see him since he found her in the Sibyl’s Chair, couldn’t get past the hostas of the Amrapake, the Cheoshim and the Guards.
“Hmm? What was that, Goa?”
“This business, it’s High Kasso pulling his tricks for the Amrapake, true?”
“Don’t know. We’ll find out what it’s about when we see where they’re going.” Reyna laced his fingers together, squeezed them hard as he thought about that anny and what it’d do to Low City once it got past the Barrier. It’d get past all right, the Amrapake would see to that. The Amrapake and the Prophet. Faan… I’ve got to get to her. Somehow…
“Bet ‘In right.” Goandee dug in a pocket, found a battered copper coin, tossed it to the tiles, grinned at the others. “My moju in the pot, who’s gonna take me?”
Adjoa and Anaxoa novices from the foundling school marched down the Sokajarua toward the Iron Bridge, boys in the white and gold of Adjoa, the black and gold of Anaxoa, tapping small black drums with gilded sticks.
Clicka-clack clicka-clack, shuffle-shuffle of sandal soles, they came, fifty boys marching.
Adjoa and Anaxoa acolytes marched down the Sokajarua, bronze hammers beating on small bronze anvils.
Tinka-tank tinka-tank, slip and slide of sandals on the paving stones, they came, a double score of grave-faced young men marching.
Adjoa and Anaxoa kassos chanted as they shuffled down the Sokajarua, carrying the Anvil on a litter, leaning into the padded chains coming over their shoulders, chains linked to the poles of the litter.
Shhp-slide, creak and squeal, the Adjoa and Anaxoa bearers came. Black and white and gold, iron chains with the forge-sigil pendant swinging with the sway, CHUM MA VAY YAL, they chanted and slid their feet in step.
Adjoa Prime and Anaxoa. Prime paced side by side behind the Anvil, white robe, black robe crusted with gold thread, staffs in their left hands, ebony bound in iron.
Tunk-tunk they came, flanked by a decade of torch bearers carrying fire from the Sacred Flame, followed by bearers with the Brazier heaped with coal.
Adjoa and Anaxoa kassos walked behind the Brazier, the oldest leaning on the arms of the young. Down and down they came, chanting as they walked, fifty kassos chanting CHUM MA VAY YAL CHUM MA VAY YAL in their deepest voices, a solid Wall of sound.