by Ken Scholes
It was the love. He’d burst into her room, with his wild eyes and unruly hair, and she’d seen nothing in him familiar or beloved remaining from the time before he left for the Churning Wastes.
She sighed.
When the regent had requested audience with Jin shortly after Neb raced bellowing from the lodge, Winters had returned to her own room to pack. People were already gathering, she’d been told, at the door that had once led to her throne room and living quarters. She would join them and lead them.
She took another look around the room. She’d packed everything that might be useful, fitting it into a scout pack that one of Aedric’s men had provided. She had socks and spare clothes, paper and pencil, and last, she strapped on her knife belt and took comfort in the blades upon her hips. She’d learned the dance with Jin thinking that she might take back her people by the blade, but in the end, it was someone else’s knife that gave her those people who were truly hers.
There was a knock at the door, and before she could speak, it opened. Jin stood framed in lamplight, and Winters forced a smile.
“May I come in?”
Winters nodded, and the tall woman slipped into the room. She held Jakob in one arm, nestled to her shoulder, as she pushed the door closed behind her. Jin nodded to the pack that sat on the bed. “You’re ready, then?”
“I am.” Winters frowned. “They’re still fighting.”
“They are. They’re moving northeast, though. You’ll want to steer clear of them.”
She’s not coming with me. Winters wasn’t sure why she’d assumed that the woman would, but she had. “You’re staying, then?”
Trouble passed through Jin’s eyes, lingering only for a moment. She shook her head. “I’m not staying either. Can we sit?”
Winters went to the bed and moved the pack, sitting where it had been. Jin took the desk chair, turning it with her free hand so that it faced Winters. Then, she sat slowly, careful not to wake Jakob.
After they were both sitting, Jin met Winters’s eyes. “We’ve had our secrets, you and I,” she said, “and I think it’s time for us to trust.” Winters opened her mouth to answer, but Jin continued. “The regent has asked me to bring Jakob back with him to Y’Zir. He is citing tonight’s event as one of several indicating that it is not safe in the Named Lands for his Great Mother and Child of Promise.”
Winters felt her eyes widening. “You’re going with him?”
Jin nodded slowly. “Three nights ago, a woman claiming to be my sister appeared in my room and told me that Eliz Xhum would bid me come with him and that I should go. She told me that my grandfather’s golden bird would find me and tell me why.”
“And you believe her?”
“I don’t know what to believe,” she said. “But I’ve seen miracles I never imagined I would see, and for whatever reason, my family is swept up in this-both my family of birth and my family of choice. Some paths can’t be escaped from,” she said, “and some shouldn’t be.” She glanced at Jakob as she spoke. “I believe he will be safe there. And my eyes and ears could be useful to us.” She paused. “I think my father was more right than he knew: War is coming, and this unknown empire is a superior force.”
Especially with the discord and devastation sown here. The southern nations were in disarray, recovering from assassinations, civil wars, the loss of their economic and moral center with the loss of the Androfrancines.
Jin continued. “I am sending Aedric and his men with you. I’ve not told him yet that I’m not coming. He will be angry. And Rudolfo will be even more angry, but I bid you tell him for me that I will see Jakob safely back to his care, and if I can, I will return to him as well.” Here, her words failed and her eyes fled from Winters. The woman’s mouth pursed for a moment, and then her eyes returned. “Tell him that I love him and that he bears my grace above all others but the son we have made.”
Winters nodded, stunned at the finality she heard beneath the woman’s words. She doesn’t think she’s coming back. “I will tell him.”
Jin inclined her head. “Thank you.” She stood. “The scouts will go with you and keep you safe. The regent assures me that his promise will be honored, that you and those who wish to leave are free to do so.”
Winters stood, too, suddenly awkward in this moment, feeling the weight of a good-bye she did not want to give. Instead, she stepped toward the woman, stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed her on the cheek. Then, she kissed the top of Jakob’s head. “You have been mother and sister to me, Lady Tam. And friend.”
Jin looked surprised at the affection, and Winters felt the heat of her blush as it moved out from her ears and face and down her neck. “Rudolfo would say you are a formidable woman, Winteria bat Mardic. I value the friendship dark circumstances granted us.” She smiled, reached out a hand and touched the girl’s cheek. “I hope your boy finds his way to the home you seek and that he takes you there soon.”
Winters wanted to open her mouth and protest, to say he was no longer her boy, to confess that he had changed, that she had changed and that because of those changes, love had fled. But she did not. The time for all secrets, it seemed, had not passed.
So she watched and said nothing as Jin Li Tam inclined her head one final time and left the room. After she’d gone, Winters wiped from her eyes the unwelcome tears that had sprung up there.
Then Winteria bat Mardic strapped on her pack and left to find her boots, her coat, her people and her path toward home.
Chapter 29
Neb
Neb heard the sound of the tree cracking as he struck it, then held his breath as he fell with it. His skin prickled with heat as the silver fluid that somehow encased him absorbed the force of his impact.
Blood of the earth made to serve me. And how was it that he knew? He shook away the thought and pulled himself up from the snow, turning as he did. The Watcher bore down on him and would have reached him again, but Isaak intersected with it, tumbling them both away from Neb. The other mechoservitor joined in, hands and feet flailing for purchase on the Watcher’s ancient, pitted metal surface.
They had joined the fight how long ago? He’d lost track of time, but it felt like hours ago. The two metal men, at first, had seemed to turn the tide, but the Watcher adapted quickly and now held his own against the three of them. Neb had managed to turn the battle north and east, away from the more populated area. It wasn’t until now that he realized he was also moving them toward the Watcher’s cave.
And toward the bargaining pool that lies beneath it. He’d found the cave after climbing the ladder and opening the hatch. He’d seen the cutting room and the blood-still along with the bird station. It had been recently ransacked, and a pile of gospels still burned just outside the entrance beside two bloody but neatly folded kin-wolf skins.
I am slowing down. He was winded, now, too. The silver sheath that swam over his skin seemed sluggish, and his muscles were beginning to ache. Its brightness vacillated, moving between white and gray.
You are losing your strength, his father whispered. It will burn out soon.
Yes, Neb realized. He’d first felt it when he’d healed Winters. And now, with each blow the Watcher landed-and each blow Neb returned-the blood of the earth burned hotter over his skin.
He forced his attention away from his father’s whispering and back to the Watcher. The metal man flowed in combat, moving with far more grace and precision than Rufello’s re-creations, brought back to life by the Androfrancines.
It was taking a toll.
Even now, Neb watched as the Watcher’s fist came down on Isaak’s companion, shattering a jeweled eye and denting the metal skull. As it reeled away, Isaak threw himself at it only to be tossed easily aside.
“Abomination,” the Watcher said, “do not make me dismantle your metal playthings. I hold the final dream.” He chuckled, and it was colder than the winter’s night they fought in. “Come take it from me.”
And Neb knew it then of a certainty: I can’
t.
The blood of the earth was failing. It would not sustain more than a few more impacts before it burned off utterly. Without it, he would be broken like kindling over a metal knee. And the mechoservitors were no match for their older cousin.
I cannot beat him.
No, his father answered. You cannot.
Neb dodged north just ahead of the Watcher’s charge.
What do I do?
The image of the bargaining pool flashed before his inner eye. You are the Homeseeker, Nebios. Leave this to your hand servants and go to the antiphon. Time is of the essence.
He’d forgotten about the antiphon, and he cursed. He squeezed the kin-raven in his fist, feeling the bite of it in his palm. “Petronus,” he said.
The old man looked up from where he crouched in the cave. The song flooded the cave, drowning out the sounds of the fight that raged there. There were bodies piled, both magicked and not, as they fought in the dark. “Neb?”
“How do you fare?”
The old man didn’t answer the question, shouting one of his own instead. “Where in hells are you? We can’t hold out much longer.”
Behind him, Neb heard the crash of a metal man colliding with the Watcher. “I’m coming,” he said.
No, the Watcher whispered, you are not.
When the metal mass struck Neb from behind, it felt like a building falling upon him, and he fell to the left, careening into an evergreen, hearing it crack as it dropped its load of snow upon them. The breath went out of him, and for a moment he felt the bite of bark in his cheek and saw bright flashes of light. A metal fist connected with his other side, and then a metal foot lashed out to catch his thigh.
The two mechoservitors fell upon the Watcher. The ancient mechanical shrugged off one, but Isaak clung to it, tugging at the Watcher as his gears groaned. The steam poured from his back and from gaps that were opening in his joints and from the tear ducts beneath his eyes. Neb heard a high-pitched whine from deep inside Isaak’s chest cavity.
He pulled the Watcher away and threw him.
Then Isaak looked to Neb. “You must listen to your father,” the metal man said. “You must leave this to us, and if we fail, you must find another way into the tower.”
Neb saw the Watcher lifting itself from the snow and glanced again at Isaak and his companion.
Then, he turned and ran north and east as fast as his feet could carry him. The blood of the earth that wrapped him felt the pull of the bargaining pool and poured the last of its strength into him as he flew over the snow.
“Coward.” Neb heard disdain in the metallic voice, but he pushed it aside and poured his attention into the run.
Isaak was right. His father was right. It was past time to leave. More than that, he realized, it might’ve been a mistake to come here. He’d gained nothing, really, other than alleviating Winters’s pain.
And seeing her again. It was hard to believe a year had passed between them, most of that time spent beyond one another’s dreams during his time in the Churning Wastes. When he’d seen her both with the kin-raven and there in front of her, she’d looked different. She’d grown taller, her body taking on the curves of a womanhood she grew awkwardly into. But what had changed most about her was her eyes. They were darker, sadder, and when she’d first opened them upon him when he’d burst into the room, he’d seen something else in them that unsettled him now.
She was afraid of me.
Neb couldn’t blame her. The events of the past year-the past two years, really-had changed him into someone else. And now, his true parentage and the legacy that came with that had changed him even further.
A realization struck him, and he found himself suddenly choking back a sob as he pushed his feet harder to carry him even faster. I don’t know if I am even human.
He heard another collision of metal behind him, but no matter how badly he wanted to cast a glance over his shoulder, he resisted the urge. Instead, he squeezed the kin-raven.
Isaak?
The metal man was in the aether, the song playing around him. Yes, Lord.
Are you okay?
There was no answer at first. I am functional for the time being.
He reached for the other, his stomach lurching as he looked into the aether and ran at the same time.
Isaak’s companion was no longer with them.
Neb saw the meadow ahead and the last traces of the fire that marked the cave’s entrance. He raced over the wide open space and willed the dark opening to swallow him. He slowed slightly as his eyes, enhanced by the quicksilver, adjusted to the diminished visibility. Still, his feet flew as he pushed his way back into the cave, to the small door he had smashed open when he’d first arrived in this place.
He reached the shaft and climbed down, pulling the hatch closed over him even as he heard the sounds of fighting in the caves he’d just left.
He took the rungs as quickly as he could and heard the hatch torn open overhead as he went.
The sheath of silver hummed now, and the heat of it was unbearable upon his skin. He could smell the hairs on his arms and legs and head as they started to singe from it, but he pushed himself even harder, taking the twisting passage of the Beneath Places farther down. His own footfalls were quiet compared to the metal ones that followed him.
He returned to the aether. I am nearly there, Isaak.
But Isaak didn’t answer. The Watcher did. You are going nowhere, Abomination. The tower will remain closed and the antiphon will-
Neb roared and left the aether behind. Two more turns and the room would open to him on the right. As he rounded the corner, he saw the glowing moss that marked the ceiling and saw the shimmering pool. This one was larger than the others, a river feeding in and out from it, a thick vein carrying the blood that sustained a world and served the Younger Gods it was made for.
“Clothe me,” Neb cried out as he entered the room.
Nothing happened.
He opened his mouth to utter the command again.
It serves you, his father said, but it does not necessarily obey you. It knows what your body can and cannot sustain.
Will it carry me? He moved toward the pool now, suddenly aware of how tired he was, how sore he was.
It will.
Metal hands laid hold of him then, lifting him back and away from the pool, tossing him easily into the stone wall. The last of the silver burned out with the impact of it, and Neb groaned as he fell to the stone floor. Another metal hand gripped his ankle, and he felt it break beneath that viselike strength.
“Your time upon this earth has passed, Abomination.”
Neb twisted onto his back and looked up. A metal fist rose, and in that instant, he squeezed the kin-raven again. “Isaak!”
There was a whir and a high-pitched whine that hurt Neb’s ears. When the mechoservitor burst into the chamber, he saw in that brief moment that smoke-not steam-poured from gaps in his plating. Isaak’s jeweled eyes guttered, and his chest cavity glowed white-hot as he hurtled himself at the Watcher with a feral cry that sounded like steel grinding on steel. The room filled with the smell of ozone. With both metal arms locked tightly around the Watcher, Isaak’s momentum carried them forward and into the pool. Neb kicked himself back with his good foot as the two mechanicals tumbled into the thick quicksilver, thrashing as they sank beneath the surface.
He rolled over onto his stomach and crawled to the edge of the pool. Isaak?
A single word found him. Flee.
Then, a white light built at the heart of the pool, and the floor began to move-first a tremble and then a wild shaking. There was a loud roaring noise from beneath the surface, and the bargaining pool swelled upward and outward, a sudden hot and rising sun contained within it as it did. Neb felt his hair catch fire even as the pool fell back in on itself. Boiling silver rained down even as the ground continued shaking, and he heard the crack of stones breaking in deep places.
A compulsion seized him, and he thrust his hand into the hot
mass of liquid. He felt the fire of it travel up his arm, and he screamed the anguish even as he uttered the single word that went out from him and into the blood of the earth.
“Isaak,” Neb cried out, and the word rang loudly in the room with a tone of command that surprised him.
The ceiling fell now, large chunks of rock splashing into the pool or landing upon the cracked floor. Fissures deep below had opened, and already the pool was draining as the quicksilver followed gravity and the path of least resistance in the aftermath of the explosion.
Neb pulled himself out onto the boiling surface, feeling the heat of it as it burned what little remained of his robes. He willed it to bear him, and he gave himself to the network of veins that flowed east, letting the hot light swallow him, leaving only his screams behind to mingle with the sound of stone upon stone as the caves collapsed.
When Neb felt the metal hands upon him, he kicked and thrashed against them, unable to see in the dark place he found himself in. But the hands were cool and they stilled him.
“Lord Whym,” the metal man said, “the antiphon awaits you. I will bear you to it.”
He felt himself being lifted and felt his awareness graying. He heard the quiet whisper of moving gears and spinning scrolls as the metal man moved quickly through the dark cavern. His hand throbbed from where he’d thrust it into the boiling pool, and he felt the kin-raven still clutched in it. With his last conscious thought, Neb cast about within the aether.
“Isaak?”
But there was no answer as the gray became a dark that swallowed him. And this time, when Neb dreamed about the moon, the Watcher waited for him there, laughing down at him from the pinnacle of a tower that remained closed to him.
Vlad Li Tam
The old man danced with abandon and poured his body into the blade. Three times he sliced, three times he punctured, the faces of his children flashing across his inner eye as he brought edge and point home to his grandson’s flesh, a steel traveler too long on the road. The young man’s surprised cries were the welcome of an innkeeper and the wideness of his eyes, a lantern-lit window.
