Februaren peered between planks, grunted twice, once puzzled, once surprised. “This comes out the same place as the gateway in the barge in the Realm of the Gods.”
Heris grumbled, “How can that be?”
Hourlr’s face collapsed into an expression that defined frown. “Aelen Kofer magic,” he muttered, withdrawing inward.
The Ninth Unknown kept thumping the planks. “What are you doing?” Heris demanded.
“Trying to break the latch. It’s a gate. Latched over there because there isn’t anybody on this side who needs to get back.”
A plank gave way. The old man shoved a hand through the gap. Heris demanded, “Do you want to get their attention?”
“Not a problem. They don’t post a guard. You want them underfoot, you have to summon them.” He pulled on something. The plank construct swung away. Cool, damp air rushed into the tunnel. “Interesting, though, that different pathways go to the same place.”
Lila said, “You don’t know that. You know that the two we’ve found go there.”
The old man grumbled but did not argue. She had a point. A scary point, Heris feared.
She had no trouble seeing Iron Eyes make it work that way. The dwarfs had to walk to wherever they wanted to open a gateway home but maybe once they did that they could connect to a central point so no more walking need ever be done.
She asked, “Double Great, can we walk the Construct in and out of there once we’ve been there?”
“Interesting question. Let’s find out. It didn’t work for the Realm of the Gods, though.” He glanced at Hourlr.
The Shining One had no opinion. He focused on the rainy world. Heris thought he was nervous, maybe even afraid.
Februaren said, “Don’t anyone go through before I fix it so we can see the gate from the other side.”
Heris recalled him describing how he had done that before. The gateway would have disappeared if he had not left it plainly marked.
“First thing, then, let’s jam it open.”
Hourlr told Heris, “We should not do this.”
“You don’t want to get home?”
“They will be aware of us as soon as I step through.”
“Then don’t do no stepping. Duh!”
The old man had the plank gate open. Heris saw the damp meadow clearly and could just make out standing stones in the distance. She saw drag marks in the grass. The Aelen Kofer had brought something heavy through here.
The Ninth Unknown said, “Lila, loan me your duster thing. It will stand out against the green.”
Lila’s outerwear fit no category clearly. It was too long to be a shirt, too light to be a jacket, wide like a serape but not hooded like a poncho. She had created it herself, for travel. It was yellow and red. It was not comfortable in the heat of the middle world but it beat the chill down here.
“I don’t think so. It’ll get all wet.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Have the devil make a magic beacon.”
“That would work,” Hourlr admitted. “And, again, it would alert the Aelen Kofer.”
Heris asked, “Is there any reason to go out at all?” She cringed as her companions glared.
In a flat, controlled voice Lila reminded, “This expedition was your idea, Auntie.”
Her initial reasoning seemed strained. She did want to reach Eucereme and the Instrumentalities there, but …
She was no longer sure what she hoped to accomplish. She talked about helping Piper but that would not withstand logical scrutiny. Piper had help.
Piper was at war with the Night only when the Night got in his way. She, though, was at war with the Night directly. She had become the Godslayer. She had exterminated the oldest and hardest generation. Now she would … what? End the Tyranny of the Night?
Hourlr shifted uncomfortably.
No. She was not at war with his generation. Not with his kin and kind. Absent Ordnan, Red Hammer, Zyr, and the Trickster, the Old Ones were, generally, rather decent.
Cloven Februaren gave up fingering Lila’s cloak thing. “Guess I won’t need this if you just stay standing in the doorway.” He stepped into the drizzle, which was more a falling mist, now. “They had a watch set after all.”
Heris saw squat, wide shapes between her and the standing stones. She recognized Korban Iron Eyes right away.
35. Hypraxium: Interlude
Lord Arnmigal’s rush to overtake the Enterprise stuttered when his band reached the heart of the Eastern Empire.
The Emperor, Monestacheus Deleanu, saw in the Enterprise an opportunity to humble old enemies and restore the fortunes of his state. He hoped the westerners would reclaim provinces that al-Prama had nibbled away over the past two centuries. He believed the situation in the Holy Lands would correct itself once his Empire was restored.
Lord Arnmigal had instructions from his Empress. He was to remain polite, agreeable, and, on the surface, amenable. The Enterprise needed Monestacheus Deleanu to maintain its lines of communication.
Lord Arnmigal could not refuse an invitation to visit the Emperor and Hypraxium, nor did he want to miss the wonders of the grandest city in the world. Neither did he want to endure the political weather that such a visit would bring.
He and his senior people were assigned a villa overlooking the westernmost of the Antal Land Bridges. The Phesian Bridge lay on the left hand, facing south. The headwaters harbors of the Agean Reach lay to the right. There were a dozen harbors, large and small, natural and man-made, civilian, commercial, and military, each defended by its own fortifications. The villa was fit for an emperor. It did belong to the Deleanu clan. The comforts included running water, heated baths, and flushable garderobes.
Hecht grumbled, “They mean to seduce us with luxury.”
Titus reported, “I’ve received six more requests for ‘a moment’ of your time and we’re still unloading. How do I refuse without offending anyone?”
Pella suggested, “First, make them come to us. Second, Dad can hold audiences. No private meetings. A lot of them won’t say what they really want if there are witnesses.”
“Listen to that, Titus. Who are these people, anyway?” Hecht was checking a list.
“Some generals. Some priests. Some nobles. A member of the Imperial family who thinks he should be the next Emperor. Monestacheus hasn’t designated a successor. Kalakakian is a merchant from somewhere out east, richer than God Himself. Those two are the factors for the local colonies of Aparion and Dateon. They want to rehash the contracts they made last year. I imagine they think they can twist our arms now that we’re here.”
“Why?”
“Both senates want a monopoly on access to Shartelle after we take it. Dateon wants to buy it.”
“Everybody wants something. Nobody donates anything.”
“That’s people, Boss.”
“I know. It’s depressing. Makes me wonder if we ought not to breed it out of them.”
That got him an odd, troubled look.
“I think I’ll take a long nap, Titus. I’m getting cranky.” He had been working his way out of the need for so much sleep. He managed ten hours of work a day, now, and that should keep improving.
Consent nodded. “I’ll put out an audience-only alert with a suggestion that you’ll consider private visits for anyone who can convince me that their business is worth your time. Even the most self-absorbed understand that you have to go on south. Our lead elements are approaching the northern Crusader States now.”
The Shining Ones reported frequent skirmishing. The investment of Shartelle would begin soon. Indala would not be able to save the city because another force would threaten Shamramdi.
Pella was close by most of the time, sulking because he could not be at the tip of the spear with Rhuk or Prosek. “You have to be there to coordinate it, Dad. Nobody else can do it.” Meaning only Piper Hecht could manage the Shining Ones, whose existence was becoming ever less a secret.