Wheel of the Infinite

by Martha Wells

  Maskelle threw her arms in the air. "Chasing him last night was helping."

  Rian eyed the actor-manager for a moment, then said, "If you go with me, what are you going to do?"

  Rastim bridled. "Help. What else?"

  "No. What are you going to do?"

  Rastim hesitated. Maskelle folded her arms and looked at the ground, hiding a smile. Rastim huffed and finally said grimly, "Whatever you say."

  "All right. You can come."

  "Well, thank you very kindly."

  "Now that we've got that settled..." Maskelle looked around, trying not to think about anything but this present moment. "Which way are you taking?"

  "South," Rian said, talking to the ground. She was a little surprised to see it; he had won arguments with her before. She seemed to recall that he had won most of them. She realized he knew how she felt at being forced to stay behind, and sighed a little. He said, "There're three groups going out this way. We'll spread out to cover more ground."

  Maskelle looked south, hoping for guidance. Her eyes passed over a tall structure with two spires standing up like horns, then came back to it. Something... No, she wasn't sure. She shook her head in annoyance. Since this had happened the Adversary was either too close for comfort or completely absent. "I'll follow you in spirit form as long as I can."

  ***

  Outside the gate in the south wall, Karuda folded the square of paper that had their plan for the search drawn on it and said, "If you find it, no heroics. Send someone back for help immediately."

  Rian nodded mock-solemnly. "I know. We agreed on that last night." The sky was only a little lighter and the men who would form the search parties for this direction were gathered around, checking their weapons, and curiously examining the remains of the creatures as he, Maskelle and Rastim had earlier this morning.

  Karuda grimaced but didn't reply, tucking the folded parchment into his belt. The Kushorit noble had meant to lead one of the parties going to the east, but now he was staying behind to oversee the defense of the Marai. He didn't look happy about it. He looked, in fact, like the circumstance left him not only badly embarrassed but had irreparably injured his honor. Rian knew he must have been ordered to stay behind by Mirak or the Emperor.

  The group Rian would lead had two Palace Guards, one temple guard, two temple servants, and a monk, plus Rastim and Rian. There were two other groups going out from this side and Rastim was helping with the others who were dividing up the supplies. By turning out the entire contents of the temple storerooms, they had scrounged up several coils of rope and enough candles and handlamps to go around. There were also water flasks for everyone and a ration of food. Everyone was armed, though some only with makeshift clubs.

  Karuda said shortly, "Good luck," and walked away.

  Rian turned to realize they had had an audience, that his men and the other two groups were watching them with concern.

  "Lord Karuda is very proud," one of the Palace Guards said. Rian thought the man's name was Idoru.

  "That's why he should be with us," Rian said, which made everyone happy except Rastim, who rolled his eyes and muttered, "Diplomacy, who would have thought it?"

  Rian made sure everyone knew the altered steps to go back and forth through the priests' defensive barrier. After performing the maneuver for the fifth time, Rastim objected, "Look Sintane, I have sixty-three plays in my head. I can remember a few dance steps."

  "All right, fine." Rian wiped dusty sweat off his forehead and gave in. He picked up one of the packs with their supplies. "Let's go."

  He waved to the leaders of the other two groups and they started away in the same direction Rian and Karuda had taken yesterday. Rastim positioned himself at his side, talking cheerfully. They would be able to see and hear the other groups for a time, but the plan called for them to spread out as they searched, to cover more ground. As they neared the first building, the one they had examined yesterday, Rian glanced back at the temple and movement caught his eye. He stopped, gazing back at it, squinting against the blown dust.

  Rastim kept walking—and talking—for a few moments before he noticed. He jogged back to Rian's side and asked with annoyance, "Did we forget something?"

  "No. I thought I saw someone following us."

  "Ah." Rastim shielded his eyes with his hand. "Perhaps it's just someone coming along for a little while, you know. Out of curiosity."

  Rian turned to stare at him, incredulous. "What, like dolphins after ships?"

  Rastim immediately became defensive. "Why not?"

  Rian shook his head, looking back at the temple. He didn't see any movement now. Perhaps it had only been someone left behind and running to catch up with the other group. Or his imagination, or a trick of the light. In this place? With our luck? Not likely.

  "That's me," Maskelle whispered in his ear.

  Rian just managed to turn his alarmed twitch into a shrug and rubbed the back of his neck. He remembered that she had said she would follow in spirit and he hadn't really considered what that would mean.

  Rastim was frowning at him.

  "Come on," Rian said, settling his pack more firmly on his shoulder and smiling a little.

  "I was going already, you're the one who stopped."

  ***

  "High Revered?"

  Maskelle's eyes were filled with the strange city backed by the smoking mountains. It took a moment of concentration to say the word aloud and not whisper it in Rian's ear. "What?"

  "A person has come from the Celestial Emperor. He wishes to speak with you."

  "The person or the Emperor?"

  "The Emperor."

  Ah, well. This had to happen soon enough. And at least Raith had chosen to make his request before the searchers had gotten too far into the city. She extended her spirit out toward them again and whispered, "I have to go. It shouldn't be long."

  "We'll try not to have fun without you," she heard Rian say aloud.

  "What?" Rastim sounded startled.

  Smiling faintly, Maskelle brought herself back to her body. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, focusing on the nun who had brought the news. "Who came with the message?"

  "A courtier, High Revered. I do not know him." The nun looked a little worried, as well she might; they had seen no one from the palace contingent except Mirak and Karuda and the guards.

  "Well, I probably don't know him either." Maskelle stood and stretched, ignoring the twinge from her knees. She went over to check the Celestial One.

  As she knelt beside him, Old Mali said, "Still dead." Despite the irreverence of her words, the old woman's tone was bleak, her brow creased with sorrow.

  "I didn't suppose any different." Maskelle touched the old man's forehead lightly. His skin felt dry and cool. I could use some help here, she thought to him. It's not like you to hide from a fight.

  Maskelle stood and went to the door, brushing aside the makeshift curtain. In the gallery outside a courtier was waiting, being impolitely stared at by Doria and Killia. Doria was holding a bori club, though fortunately she wasn't actively threatening anyone with it. The man was young, not much older than Raith, and looked as grim and tired as everyone else; the only thing that marked him as a courtier was the silk brocade of his robe. He bowed to her and said, "High Revered, the Throne—"

  "I know," she said. "I'll go with you."

  Killia touched her sleeve. "Are you sure?" she whispered, speaking Ariaden. "What if it's a trick?" Doria nodded worriedly.

  "It's all right," she told them, raising placating hands. "Really."

  "You want us to come with you?" Doria asked, eyeing the courtier with wary suspicion.

  "No, wait here. I won't be long."

  She followed the courtier through the gallery and out into the central court. The courtier glanced up at the men and women lining the upper galleries. They were all still rapt in concentration, the soft murmur of their chant rising and falling in the dry air. He said, "How long can they do this?"

  Ma
skelle glanced at him and saw the uncertainty under the veneer of grim determination. "As long as the food and water hold out."

  He led her to the corner tower and the stairs that went up to the second-level gallery. She caught glimpses of the other members of the royal party in the tower rooms and the chambers to the side, their festival clothes showing the wear after the days of unaccustomed use. A few of Karuda's archers, left out of the search parties to guard the temple, were posted at regular intervals. Everyone watched her with the mix of curiosity and fear she was long accustomed to. Except now there was something else in their expressions. Hope? Maskelle wondered. That would be typical. They look to me for their salvation, and I have only questions, no answers.

  A room had been divided off from the gallery by a couple of festival banners, and outside it waited more guards and another couple of courtiers, these two armed with swords. One of the guards drew the curtain back and the courtier who had brought her here bowed and gestured for her to enter.

  Maskelle stepped inside and saw Raith standing across the room, his back to her. The openings between the pillars had been draped too, but the curtains were pulled back now to let in the wan daylight and a little of the breeze. The room was sparsely furnished with a couple of makeshift pallets and a braiser. One of the young Court Ladies was seated on a cushion, holding a small lute in her lap. Without waiting for the Emperor's command, the woman got to her feet hurriedly, bowed, and stepped out through the curtain.

  Maskelle took a deep breath and simply waited.

  Raith turned to face her, his stony expression telling her nothing. "So." He still wore the silk and gold of the festival clothing, but he had put off some of the heavier pieces of jewelry. "Here we are."

  "Indeed."

  To her surprise, he looked away, biting his lip, forehead creased with some strong emotion she couldn't name. His voice thick, he said, "You were right, then."

  Maskelle watched him a moment, aware how very little she really knew about him after all these years. "Right? About what?" It happens so seldom, lately...

  "This." He gestured down at the court bitterly, then up at the sickly purple sky. "If I took the Celestial Throne, disaster would result." He laughed sharply. "If I had known this was the kind of disaster you meant, I would have taken my own life."

  Maskelle shook her head, suddenly unsure what to say. "This is... Raith, this isn't the vision I had. That vision was false."

  "Was it?" He stared at her. "You don't call this disaster?"

  "I call it disaster, but—" She couldn't continue. Raith was the one who had allowed Marada at court. But it was such a small mistake, to find a foreign courtier pleasing. Marada had fooled advanced priests and spoken to the Celestial One himself without revealing her intentions or her strange origin. How could Raith possibly be to blame? And even if she had never received admission to Court, that wouldn't have stopped her from living in the city, seeking instruction from Veran or some other unlucky priest. I thought I killed her, and it still didn't stop this. "We still don't know what happened, or who created the second Wheel of the Infinite. We've only a demented puppet's word that there is a second Wheel; it could be telling us only what we want to hear, mindlessly repeating the theory Vigar and I had. The Wheel wasn't at Marada's house, where we expected to find it." She rubbed her tired eyes. She couldn't stay here and console Raith for long; she had to get back to Rian and Rastim before anything happened to them. "I know now she didn't die when I thought she did, and she obviously had allies we knew nothing about."

  Raith stood silently a moment, then took a deep breath, seeking control. He took a couple of steps to the balustrade and looked down at the court, where some of the temple servants were drawing water out of the basins. "So Lady Marada was some sort of spirit creature? Karuda said she was killed while trying to assassinate the Celestial One with magic, but then she returned to attack you last night."

  He sounded oddly dispassionate about it, as if he had had no close relationship with the woman at all. Maskelle said cautiously, "Yes. And she was certainly the one who killed Igarin and Veran." She hesitated, and added finally, "I'm sorry."

  Staring pensively out at the court below, Raith made a dismissive gesture. Then he glanced at her, puzzled. "For what? For Marada?"

  Maskelle studied his face. She said slowly, "For Marada. I'm sorry it was her. I heard you were much attached to her."

  He shook his head, still puzzled. "No. She was close to the Court, but..." He saw her expression and added, "Why? Were there rumors? There always are. But she was more attached to Chancellor Mirak." He snorted and looked down into the court again. "The gossips told me he gave her the richest of gifts. It was unusual for him, he wasn't one to succumb to beauty. I suppose he feels like a fool now."

  Maskelle drew a deep breath. "I...see." Oh yes, now I see.

  ***

  "It's funny how Gisar helped us last night," Rastim said as he plodded along, shielding his eyes as an eddy showered them briefly with dust.

  "What?" Rian asked. They were working their way south through the city, the strange empty buildings rising like mountains all around them. They investigated doorways that opened into huge cavernous spaces and others that led only into rubble-filled warrens, all that was left after the upper floors collapsed. There were no paintings, no carvings except for the spare geometrical designs, no statues, at least none so far, though Rastim had found one place that had had several spots on the walls where it was apparent the carvings had been removed deliberately, and not simply worn away by wind and time. Rian wasn't sure what to make of it, though he supposed it might be something like when a rival lord seized a Hold and destroyed his predecessor's likenesses in the wall paintings.

  The city felt even more vast under the sunless sky the further they got from the temple. In the distance the wind drove sheets of dust across the stone, sometimes creating whirlwinds that shattered against the massive stone buildings. They had been able to hear and catch glimpses of the groups to the left and right of them for the first part of the day, but for a while now they had been alone.

  "And you know, if we hadn't run into him, we'd have gone outside the wall," Rastim continued. "Maybe even outside the barrier since it would have been safer to look for him from the other side, with him trapped inside it and unable to get to us. We'd have run right into those things."

  "So?" Rian prodded, though he knew what Rastim meant.

  "So it was lucky. And odd."

  Damned odd, Rian thought, but there were no answers. He craned his neck to look up at the buildings around them. The one right above them had a bridge coming out of its dome, stretching across the plaza to a tall thin pillar. "Here's another one with a bridge." He turned and waved to the men across the square, who started back toward them.

  Rastim sighed and looked back again at the heart tower of the Marai, just visible between the two buildings behind them, but made no other comment. Rian had been looking for a building with a bridge or balcony that they could climb up to and get a better perspective on the city but all those they had found so far had been unreachable.

  As the others reached them, Rian stepped back, looking up again at the dark windows high overhead. "Come on, let's try to find the way in."

  "Perhaps there isn't one," Rastim suggested hopefully.

  Rian started away, following the curve of the wall. "Then in that case I hope you like to climb." He gestured up to the windows, a good fifty or sixty feet up the side. "What did you think I brought the rope for?"

  "That was a joke, wasn't it? I ask, you know, because I wasn't aware it was possible for a Sitanese to have a sense of humor."

  A few of the men hid smiles, which Rian ignored. Rastim was keeping everyone's spirits up, and though Rian hated to admit it, the Ariaden's comments were funny. They started to work their way around the building and found the doorway on the far side. It was square and large enough for a river cargo crane. All the doorways had been large; it made Rian wonder if what had lived
here had been people after all.

  The interior was dark and they had to pause and light the lamp before going any further. As the temple servant who carried it held it up, they saw that this chamber was filled with rubble too, but something had made it all fall to one side of the structure, so it made a rough ramp against one wall. Rian squinted, trying to see if the opening to the bridge was reachable. He could see it wasn't blocked by debris; there was a faint daylight glow coming through it.

  "What did that?" one of the men asked, puzzled by the odd pattern of the debris. "The rest of the floor is clean, as if it's been swept."

  Rian took the lamp and lifted it, seeing the man was right. He shook his head. More mysteries. He handed the lamp back and said, "Wait here. I'm going to see if I can get up to that bridge."

  The Koshan monk, whose name was Aren, stepped forward. "I'll go also."

  "Me, too," Rastim said firmly.

  Rian didn't argue with him. Rastim had a need to prove his bravery, and Rian was willing to let the Ariaden do it.

  They started to climb, Rastim scrambling agilely along. Occasionally their progress dislodged rocks or fragments that rolled down on the men watching below. Rian could hear them cursing as they dodged out of the way. About halfway up, he could feel a strong breeze from the bridge opening.

  They reached the top of the pile and Rian could see the square door was just within reach. It was nothing more than a short tunnel through the wall of the building, then it opened up into the bridge.

  As the tallest, it was easy for Rian to reach the opening, haul himself up, then help the monk, who turned back to give Rastim a hand. Rian went forward cautiously to the end of the tunnel and paused at the mouth.

  The bridge was a slab of stone about twenty feet wide with a low balustrade, only a foot or so high. It stretched out to the pillar, but strangely there didn't appear to be a door on the other end. The view was just as incredible as Rian expected, and the city now lay before them.