Nita cocked an eye up at Ronan, and took another drink of soda. I wonder if it’s contagious, she thought, catching a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Kit coming out of his pup tent again. Ponch followed him out, and Kit started to roll up the access and pull it down out of the air.
Across the cavern, Carmela’s mochteroof skinned over with the simulacrum of a Yaldiv’s golden-green inner shell, but Nita was distracted from this by the unusually edgy feeling practically radiating from Ronan. “How’re you holding up?” she said after a moment.
She somehow wasn’t surprised to see that he wouldn’t quite look at her. “Possibly better than some of us.”
“Who?” She was conscious of Kit’s gaze in their direction—not hostile, not even trying to look like he was particularly interested. But she knew better.
“Not him,” Ronan said, annoyed.
“Oh. Your partner—”
Ronan nodded. “It’s okay,” he said. “He’s working to make sure our next move is covered. But this isn’t easy for him. He thought he’d have enough power accessible to make a difference when things started to get rough. And suddenly he doesn’t seem to have access to anything like enough.”
Nita shook her head. “What can we do?”
“Nothing,” Ronan said, sounding bleak.
Nita glanced up at him. “Except maybe hope the problem’s working both ways.”
Ronan stared at her in confusion. “I took a quick look just now at the manual to see what’s been happening since I left,” Nita said. “When you guys got hauled in front of the King-avatar, he seemed to be a few words short of a spell. Like the avatar was running on auto.”
“Don’t count on that lasting long enough to do us any good,” Ronan said.
“It may already have done all the good it needs to,” Nita said softly, glancing at Memeki. “But think about it. Why shouldn’t the Pullulus be having some effect on the Lone Power, too? Or at least Its presence in Its avatars?”
Ronan looked astounded. “But the Pullulus is the Lone Power’s own weapon. You’d think It’d make sure It couldn’t be affected.”
“But the Lone One’s power is still the same as the power behind wizardry, isn’t it?” Nita said. “Just perverted. It still has to obey wizardry’s rules while It’s physically present in the universe. And the rules say that the structure of space affects the way wizardry works … and vice versa.” She thought a moment. “What if It was willing to risk having less power for the moment, just so long as It got the other result It was playing for?” Nita glanced over at Memeki. “Distracting everybody from knowing that she was about to happen.”
Ronan was quiet for a moment. “Hope you’re right,” he said, “because that’s all the advantage we’ve got. As soon as It realizes that some of us haven’t been distracted … or that she has happened, which she hasn’t, entirely…”
Nita shook her head. “One thing at a time,” she said. “But you didn’t exactly answer my question.”
Ronan gave Nita one of those looks that was meant to frighten her off the subject. She frowned at him. “Don’t even bother,” she said.
The grim look briefly dissolved into one of those dark, wry smiles. “Never did much good with you, did it?” he said.
“Nope,” Nita said. She got up and stretched, almost too tired to bother getting as annoyed at him as she could have. “Look, Ronan, any chance you could stop being so defensive for a few seconds? Do you seriously think I’m asking how you are as a way of secretly suggesting you’re going to screw up in some weird way? I was asking about how you’re feeling. But since you can’t get that through your head, just work on getting ever so briefly conscious about your own abilities. Think about what you pulled off on your Ordeal! And then back in Ireland, on the Fields of Tethra—”
“That was then,” Ronan said, sounding uneasy. “This is now.”
“Spare me,” Nita said. “Anybody who can ‘take in the Sea’ on his first time out, and afterward cope with handling that thing—” She glanced at the Spear of Light. “—has no business wandering around looking morose and fishing for compliments.” Then she had to grin. “Which is probably why the Powers have now sent you the greatest challenge of your life.”
Ronan suddenly looked shocked, and glanced around him with a sudden guilty look of someone who’s just been found out. “What? What do you—”
Nita looked sidewise to where Carmela, having finished up with another session of fussing over Ponch, was heading toward them. “She’s all yours,” Nita said, and turned away.
Behind her, Ronan didn’t move for a moment or so. Then he collapsed the Spear back into its ballpoint pen disguise and tucked it away inside his jacket. A wee bit freaked, he said silently. More than a wee bit. Not at all cool, or calm, or able to deal, no matter how it looks from outside. Is that what you wanted to hear?
Nita looked over her shoulder just long enough to flash him a very small smile. No. But the truth’s worth hearing, anyway. Then she headed over to Memeki.
For a moment she paused just out of reach of Memeki’s claws. The mirror-shade eyes looked at Nita thoughtfully.
“You do not have to be afraid of me,” Memeki said. “I am nothing to fear.”
Nita shook her head. “I had a little scare when we first got here,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault.” Then she put out a hand and laid it on that shining carapace. Memeki shivered a little under her touch. “And as for you being nothing to be afraid of—not for us, maybe. But someone else is scared.”
Nita had to hold herself very still as she said that, for the touch had told her something about the reasons for that fear. Inside Memeki, Nita clearly felt a growing power, a core of something like heat or light—like a heart quietly beating, getting stronger. But also inside Memeki were a myriad of tinier glittering points of power, and these were of a darker fire. They scorched the testing mind, cruel as sparks spun up from a fire intent on burning.
“I know now who’s afraid,” Memeki said. “It’s the creature that speaks through the King. It’s my enemy… and my other self.”
Nita swallowed as she felt the sudden surge of power inside the voice. “And it’s inside me,” Memeki said. “I never really knew that until now.”
Nita hesitated a moment, then nodded. “It’s inside all of us, a little.”
“But not in the same way,” Memeki said. “You understand. In you, it’s far less. Inside me—It has me outnumbered. And unless something happens very soon, It will put an end to me.”
“Not if you don’t let It,” Nita said.
Memeki combed that palp down again, that uncertain gesture. “There is no way to stop what’s coming!” she said, distressed. “You must know! You can feel them all.”
“The eggs,” Nita said. “Yes.”
“They won’t be eggs for long,” Memeki said. “Soon they’ll hatch, each one of them with its spark of the Great One, the Darkness. They’ll belong to It. And when they hatch, they will turn to their mother for food.”
Nita shivered, suddenly glimpsing a scene Memeki had seen again and again in the grubbery of the city-hive: the little closed-in cells where the handmaidens, the Favored, were kept and ministered to until their time came… until the eggs hatched inside them, and the grubs within turned outward and began to feast on the flesh that had sheltered them.
“It will happen very soon,” Memeki said. “A sunrise more, perhaps two, and I’ll be taken to the incubatory inside the grubbery, there to wait my time. When Ponch found me I was spending my last hours in freedom, walking, and working and walking again, fearing what was about to happen—and not knowing how to speak of it, not daring to. Knowing that everything was about to be lost, everything from the time the strange voice spoke to me…” She pulled her claws close to herself. “But you are the one who knows the way,” Memeki said then, looking up again. “You know how it will be. You had a mother…”