by Martha Wells
Nicholas glanced at her, his dark eyes serious, assessing. “Could you tell what spell Niles was about to cast at Ixion?”
Florian bit her lip, thinking it over. “I didn’t get much of a sense of it. I’d bet it was a variation of an unbinding.”
“An unbinding?” He slid his hands into his pockets, frowning at the polished deck. “I thought that was only effective on magical constructions, like golems, for example.”
Most laymen didn’t know that much about sorcery, but given what Tremaine had told her of Nicholas’s past, Florian wasn’t too surprised at his knowledge. She explained, “Niles told me that he had been working a little on trying to figure out how Ixion had made his body, because of Arisilde, and the woman in the Gardier crystal. He said transferring consciousness at the moment of death, even if it’s as dramatic a death as having your head cut off, would actually not be that difficult.” Nicholas lifted a brow and she amended, “Comparatively difficult. He said Urbain Grandier actually did something similar, putting his consciousness in other people’s bodies. Grandier was a half-Bisran sorcerer a couple of hundred years ago who—”
“I’m familiar with Grandier, and the historical context,” Nicholas interrupted sharply. “Go on.”
“Right, ah…” It took her a moment to get her train of thought back together. This is as bad as the Lodun Entrance Examinations, she thought in exasperation. “Niles said the difficult part is getting the body. Apparently Ixion really did grow it, like he grew the creatures the Syprians call curselings, and didn’t just steal it from someone. And thank God for that, really, if you think about it.” Nicholas still seemed unimpressed, and she hurriedly continued, “Niles didn’t tell me what he was thinking of doing, but he may have been working on an unbinding spell, tailored to sort of disassemble whatever Ixion did to assemble the body. Because of the way the unbinding would work, there’s a good chance it might keep Ixion from popping back into another body hidden on the island or somewhere.” She shrugged helplessly. “That’s what I’d do anyway, if I was him. If I could put together a spell like that, let alone cast it.”
Nicholas nodded slowly, his eyes distant. “Niles’s background is in etheric theory, correct? The philosophical aspects of sorcery?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Before the war, Niles had had more experience with researching dusty historical texts, experiments in manipulating ether and constructing Great Spells for other sorcerers. It made him an ideal choice for the Viller Institute. “It doesn’t exactly make him a good candidate for a pit death match with a Syprian sorcerer who can do consciousness transference and transformation spells,” Florian acknowledged ruefully.
“Is that why you stopped him?”
Florian halted, one hand on the railing. At the far end of the Promenade a few naval officers stood in a group discussing something animatedly, but other than that, they were alone. The ship had a different feel now, occupied with troops rather than refugees. Most of them were belowdecks in their quarters, or still in the First Class dining hall, and their mood was subdued. They knew they were going into danger, and they knew there were far fewer of them than Capidara had originally promised, even with the number of expatriate Rienish and Aderassi volunteers. “I— I couldn’t let them fight it out, Ixion’s been accepted by the Capidarans—”
“And if Niles, as a high-ranking Rienish sorcerer, killed a native sorcerer who had already been accused of murder, even if it was in an unprovoked fit of pique, do you really think he would get more than a stern talking-to?” Nicholas looked down at her, exasperated. “It was a perfect opportunity, Florian. The sphere was there to assist him, and there were even witnesses who could testify that it was a fair fight. Niles is not by nature a violent man, and he won’t be easily pushed to this point again. Ixion is too clever to allow it.”
“So you want Niles to murder Ixion?” With effort Florian kept her voice low. “I know Ixion is…” She knew how Giliead and Ilias would feel about this, but they weren’t here. And no matter how she felt about it, realistically she wasn’t sure they could afford to turn their noses up at any offer of help. “But he could help us. He has no reason to help the Gardier. In fact, he’d probably end up in a crystal if they caught him again. And Ixion hasn’t done anything yet, not to us. Killing him now— It would be murder in cold blood.”
Nicholas shook his head slightly. “I’ve never understood that attitude.” While Florian was trying to get her mind around that casual and apparently entirely sincere statement, he turned, strolling down the Promenade again, hands clasped behind his back. Florian followed, feeling as if she were being drawn along like a wheeled toy on a string. He said, “Even if I didn’t believe the Syprians’ account of Ixion’s past actions, his choice of alliance with Lord Chandre is proof enough that he has to be eliminated.”
Florian frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”
He flicked an opaque look at her. “Chandre is more interested in positioning himself advantageously, whatever the outcome of this war, than he is in forcing the Gardier out of Ile-Rien.”
Florian stared at him. “That’s vague enough.”
“I didn’t have to give you an answer at all,” Nicholas pointed out with deceptive mildness. They had reached a doorway to an interior corridor and Nicholas paused there, one hand on the door handle. “You’ve attracted Ixion’s attention by showing him that Niles will listen to you. You may want to take care.”
Watching him go, Florian grimaced. She had been ignored by virtually everyone else; she didn’t see why Ixion should be any different.
Waking Gerard proved more difficult than Tremaine thought. Saying his name and laying a hand on his shoulder failed completely, and he responded to vigorous shaking by groaning and batting at her, so she decided to let him rest a little more. Meretrisa and the others were still asleep and Cletia was back on watch. Tremaine had told Cletia briefly what they had found and the Syprian woman had greeted the news with resignation. Apparently she was willing to use the circles to get to safety, but was not particularly thrilled with finding a treasure trove of them. There was nothing the Capidarans could do to help at the moment, so Tremaine was careful not to wake them. And she wanted Gerard to see the new circle chamber before anyone else did.
It was near dawn when Tremaine made another try and this time Gerard groaned, batted at her again, then actually opened his eyes and sat up.
“Guess what?” she demanded as he fumbled for his spectacles.
“What?” He got the spectacles in place after a couple of tries and gazed at her warily.
“We found something.” She handed him a cup of the tea kept warm by the fire.
He took the cup, looking a little more alert. “Something helpful?”
Trying the different circles would either help them or kill them. Tremaine settled for, “Probably.”
Dear God,” Gerard muttered as he stepped off the stairs into the underground chamber.
“Nice, huh?” Tremaine moved past him, pleased with his reaction. Ilias and Giliead had brought in some wood from outside, building a fire in the narrow part of the chamber to make the cold a little more bearable and also fashioning some torches to light the place.
The firelight turned the gray veining in the stone to pure silver before the domed roof arched up into shadow. The circles etched into the smooth stone floor were each nearly twenty feet across. The new symbols from the circles were repeated in the carved bands along the wall, their looping curves intricate and mysterious. Gerard walked around for several moments, speechless, the sphere tucked protectively under his arm.
He paused finally, leaning close to the wall to study one of the bands between the pillars, adjusting his spectacles. “This is writing,” he said softly, his voice echoing a little off the domed roof. “Is it a language used only for casting, or was their written language and their casting language the same?”
Tremaine assumed it was a rhetorical question. She rubbed her arms in her coat sleeves, trying to stay
warm. The fire had taken the dampness out of the woodsmoke and pine-scented air, but if you stood still for any length of time it was still bone-achingly cold. Ilias and Giliead, once they had explored the chamber to their satisfaction, hadn’t left the vicinity of the fire.
Gerard took a deep breath, turning away from the wall. “And you haven’t found any other signs left by Arisilde?”
“No.” Tremaine shook her head, gesturing in annoyance. She was sure they would find something, but there had been nothing to find. It took some of the excitement out of the discovery. “We looked pretty carefully.”
“If he explored the curse circles, but didn’t come back this way, he wouldn’t have had a chance to mark the one he took,” Giliead put in, explaining the pet theory they had discussed while searching the chamber. “The last one he took,” he amended.
“We think he came in through one of the circles down here, mostly because the arrow in the stairwell pointed up,” Tremaine explained. They hadn’t done much else since finding the chamber besides come up with permutations of various theories. “So maybe the circle he gave us in Capistown was something he came up with specifically to connect with the one up there to get us here.”
“But if each of these curse circles can only be used to go to one place, why doesn’t the one up there still work?” Ilias pushed to his feet, stretching extravagantly. “Even if the one back at the house is ruined, that one up there should still go to its original place, right?”
“Yes, theoretically.” Gerard nodded thoughtfully. “Unless the original counterpart has been destroyed as well.”
Tremaine shrugged. “Which would explain why Arisilde sent us here, because he wants us to retrace his path, and it’s the first step that still exists.”
Gerard looked around again, brows knit. “He may have also sent us here simply to see these circles. With so many to compare with the one Arisilde gave us, I think I’ll be able to isolate the series of symbols that controls the location. It should be similar to the symbols that delineate the world in the mobile circle.”
Tremaine saw Ilias and Giliead exchange a thoughtful look. She lifted her brows. “So, which one do you want to try first?”
After Gerard copied down the symbols of all the new circles into his notebook, they retired back to the upper chamber for a conference and for breakfast, which had become an increasingly important issue for Tremaine as the cold morning wore on.
Ilias had been the one to cook, and had proved better at making the little graincakes than Cletia. Somehow when he did it, they actually had flavor. If not for the Syprians’ ability to catch fish and find roots and nuts and identify what was edible, Tremaine knew they would surely starve. She didn’t miss coffee as much as she thought she would, but now that they were almost through Cletia’s grain supply, she found herself desperately missing bread.
Gerard explained the new find to the Capidarans while they ate the cakes, more of the cooked sava and some green nuts that Cimarus had found on his last foray for firewood. Meretrisa, Aras and Vervane listened with expressions of increasing doubt as Gerard talked. Giliead translated for Cletia and Cimarus while they smashed open nuts with a rock.
“I don’t— Why should we risk it now?” Meretrisa asked, frowning in worry. After so long with no access to a brush or comb, her dark hair had come down from its bun and begun to look untidy, and Tremaine had helped her braid it while they were waiting for the sava to cook. It had given her a chance to unobtrusively check Meretrisa’s neck and shoulders for crystals, but she had found nothing. Not that she had expected it to be that easy. She had no idea yet how she was going to get near Vervane; the older woman was as standoffish as Cletia, if not worse. “It’s only been a day. Our friends could be delayed by any number of things—”
Tremaine and Gerard both drew breath to answer but Aras beat them to it. “That doesn’t matter,” he pointed out. “We have to explore these gateways anyway, the sooner the better, even if someone comes to us from Capistown in the next five minutes.” Aras’s mood seemed to have improved drastically now that he was presented with something useful to do.
“Yes, exactly,” Gerard put in.
Vervane was nodding. The older woman had dark circles under her eyes and her skin seemed to sag. It made Tremaine wonder if the woman had actually slept or just pretended to. Her accent thick with a Lowlands tinge, she said, “Master Kressein would agree. The sooner we begin, the better. If the Ministry had any doubts… surely the attack has convinced them.”
“I’m glad we’re agreed,” Gerard added firmly. Nobody mentioned the fact that Meretrisa hadn’t agreed. Tremaine regarded the woman thoughtfully but Meretrisa let it pass, just sitting there with a faint line between her brows, as if she was thinking of something else. Gerard took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “The thing to remember is that we’ve had incidents in the past where a slight alteration of the gate spell led to a rather unpleasant and dangerous place.”
He was talking about the world Florian had taken them to accidentally, the place where Tremaine and Arisilde had left the Gardier Gervas. Ilias grimaced at the memory and threw a look at Tremaine, saying in Syrnaic, “We don’t want to go there again.”
Tremaine nodded, giving him a thin smile. “I wouldn’t want to disturb Gervas. I’m sure he’s having fun with his new friends.”
Ilias snorted in amusement and Giliead just lifted an ironic brow.
“The sequence of location symbols seems to indicate that these circles lead to places within this world, but there are still symbols we haven’t encountered before, that we don’t know the meaning of,” Gerard continued, steadfastly ignoring them. “For this reason, I suggest we send only myself and one volunteer on each foray. Ilias and Giliead and Tremaine have volunteered.” Gerard paused to give Tremaine a repressive eye. She smiled blithely back at him. They had had a discussion about this down in the circle chamber, where Tremaine had overridden Gerard’s objections, pointing out it wasn’t fair to ask Ilias and Giliead to take all the risk. And this was important. Since these circles led to other places in the staging world, they could help Gerard figure out how to gate straight to Ile-Rien from Capidara, or even how to gate inside Lodun.
Aras nodded. “I volunteer as well.” He looked expectantly at Meretrisa. “And we have more than one sorcerer.”
Meretrisa hesitated and Vervane looked a little alarmed, perhaps worried that she might be volunteered too. Gosh, let’s not be subtle, Tremaine thought, disgruntled. She didn’t mind volunteering herself for possibly fatal missions but volunteering other people was out of bounds. But Meretrisa said hesitantly, “I would like to learn the spell more thoroughly, perhaps test it once, if that were possible. I know it in theory, but—”
“There’s no need to take unnecessary risks,” Gerard put in firmly. “Once we discover a ‘safe’ gateway, Meretrisa can practice with it until she proves proficient. Until then, I’ll perform the spell.”
Back down in the lower circle chamber, Tremaine paced impatiently. Cimarus and Cletia had remained upstairs on guard over Balin and the other circle. Aras and Meretrisa had explored the chamber with Gerard but Vervane, though she had looked around curiously, had ended up staying near the fire. It was still chilly down here and Tremaine wondered why the older woman didn’t just return to the upper chambers. But Vervane still seemed wary of the Syprians, and might not want to be alone with Cletia and Cimarus. Ilias didn’t seem to want to be alone with Cletia or Cimarus either, but that was personal.
Gerard and Aras had picked a circle to try, the first one on the side of the room nearest the door. Aras, being far more helpful than Tremaine would have given him credit for last night, suggested sending a useless object through and back first to make sure the circle didn’t open into solid rock. Gerard had explained that these point-to-point circles used the spell language that apparently prevented them from opening if there was a solid obstruction. The movable circles used by the Ravenna and the Gardier airships were also supposed to
be obstruction-proof, but this was untested as they were only opened in midair or over water to try to avoid the problem. Tremaine and Giliead were the only ones who appreciated Ilias’s suggestion that they still send Cimarus through first, just in case.
Ilias had lost much of his sense of humor once Tremaine made it clear that she was going with Gerard on this first test. “You’re the only woman in your house,” he had pointed out, low-voiced, while the others argued about something else. “You shouldn’t risk yourself.”
“Yes, but it’s a little too late for that now,” she told him. “And it’s my turn.” Her nerves were slightly abraded by Meretrisa’s behavior once Aras had recovered. She deferred to the man constantly, though she was a sorcerer and Kressein’s assistant, which should give her some status in Capidaran counsels. Here, where having a competent sorcerer with a sphere was the difference between getting home and settling down to grow crops for the winter, it was ridiculous for her to behave so diffidently. Every time Gerard turned to the woman to get her opinion, Meretrisa hesitated and Aras answered for her. Tremaine suspected it was annoying Gerard as well, though for different reasons. A competent colleague, someone to share the responsibility for their lives, would have been a great relief to him; with Meretrisa hiding behind Aras, Gerard couldn’t talk to her long enough to ascertain whether the woman was competent or not.
Tremaine wasn’t sure if Ilias and Giliead had noticed this. Ilias was too busy trying to come up with a logical argument as to why he should go with Gerard instead. Giliead was watching Gerard and the Capidarans with folded arms and a closed expression, and avoiding the fire because he could obviously tell Vervane was nervous in his presence.
