"One of my men?" Sheia frowned. "Not likely. That belongs to one of our other guests... the tawny fellow, you know, the irritating one."
"Sir Chan," said Linden's lieutenant.
"Yes, that's the one. Where is he during all this commotion?"
Linden looked at Calandria. She had nothing to say, but simply shook her head.
"Perhaps you do need to tell us the reason for your travelling clothes," Linden said to her.
"Well then." Sheia crossed his arms and glowered at Calandria. "It seems straightforward."
"Not necessarily," said Linden. "They have no motive. Quite the contrary."
"Maybe they were hired by Sheia," said the lieutenant.
Sheia guffawed. "They're agents of Ravenon, by their own admission. By this one stroke they've sown disorder in both Memnonis and Iapysia. Considering the troubles Ravenon's having, they'd love us to squabble within ourselves. If you don't see that, Linden, you're an idiot."
Linden stepped toward him, white-faced. Sheia ignored him, turning instead to Calandria. "So Lady May was taking the servants' stairs, was she?"
"If the assassin got away," Calandria said, pitching her voice clear and steady, "why did he leave his sword? That seems like a rather large oversight."
"Perhaps he was overwhelmed by what he had done. Or, maybe he was hurt?" Sheia appeared to consider that idea. "It looks like quite a fight happened here. That being the case, brother," said Sheia, "wouldn't you agree we should be hunting for Chan?"
Linden appeared to have regained his poise. He snapped his fingers at two sergeants, who came to attention and hurried from the room. "There," he said. "Now let us get back to the question at hand: namely their connection to you." He nodded to two more men. They moved forward to flank Brendan Sheia.
"Before you make an ugly mistake," Sheia said, "consider your options. Who are you going to put to the question here? I did not kill Yuri. With him gone, the family needs us united—it is imperative to our survival. If my men hear you've imprisoned me, there'll be a bloodbath, and nobody wants that. You can find out for sure who killed Yuri. Ask her."
Linden laughed humorlessly. "We will. But you're not going anywhere until we're done. Bring her." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" August jumped between Calandria and the Boros'. "She is no assassin. I can vouch for her."
"And bring him too!" Linden cried. He flipped his cloak about himself angrily as he stepped from the room. Sheia laughed richly as he followed.
"Wait!" August shouted. A soldier clouted him on the side of the head, and he went down on his knees. Another man took Calandria's arm and pushed her roughly toward the doors.
She had just turned to snap something rude at the man, when the ceiling caved in.
§
Turcaret laughed spitefully. "You are too late. The Heaven hooks have come, to take your young apprentice. Doubtless they will take you, too."
Axel stared at the sky. "Oh, shit," he whispered.
The biggest aerostat he had ever seen was hovering over the manor house. They were a common enough sight in the skies of Ventus, and very similar to the aerostat cities he had seen on gas giants and dense-atmosphere planets. The thing was just a hollow geodesic sphere about two kilometers in diameter. It didn't much matter what you built one with; at that size it would remain airborne despite its mass because, due to its high surface-to-volume ratio, sunlight would trap enough heat inside to create buoyancy. On other worlds entire cities lived in the bases of the things; here on Ventus, Axel had been told, they served as bulk transport for minerals and other terraforming supplies. No human had ever entered one and come out again, of course—they were purely tools of the Winds.
The belly of this aerostat had opened out like the petals of a flower—or more ominously, like the beaked mouth of a octopus. Hundreds of cables woven round with gantries and buttresses tumbled into the high air from this opening. He could see them spiralling down at him in glimpses highlit by Diadem, the world's one true moon.
"They will take you, Chan!" Turcaret shouted. "It was going to happen, if you lived. Somehow you and yours have offended the Winds. They have taken notice of you! My killing you was an act of kindness, don't you see? I would have spared you this!"
"Shut up," Axel said distractedly. What the hell was the thing doing here? This couldn't be some random event; his briefings on Ventus had never mentioned an attack like this. But the Winds treated any technology not of their own creation as a pathology to be removed. Axel had thought he and Calandria had succeeded in hiding their nano and implants from the rulers of Ventus. Maybe it hadn't worked.
Axel had to get to Calandria, and Turcaret happened to be standing on the only door. "Out of the way, you bastard," Axel said. Turcaret's face was lost in darkness, but Axel could see he was shaking his head.
"I will deliver you to them," said the controller. "It will be my pleasure." He shouted something into the sky in some old language. Past his dark outline, Axel saw a thing like a caged claw, big as a house, fall straight at them. Just before it hit, great lamps like eyes blazed into life from its crossbeams.
The roof disappeared with a great slap Axel felt in his bones. Dust and scraps of shingle and wooden beams shot into the air, and he was airborne too before he knew it. He landed on his side on the roof, which swayed and pitched like the deck of a ship. Something bright as the sun, and howling like a million saws, planted itself in the roof next to him and twisted this way and that. He smelled hot iron and ozone.
Axel rolled onto his stomach. Turcaret was crouched two meters away, also looking up. Axel willed himself to stand up, but his strength momentarily failed him. As he was struggling onto his elbows, Turcaret sent him a silent, contemptuous glare, and hopped down through the hole in the roof.
A metal tower reaching all the way to heaven was heaving its base back and forth through the ruins of the manor. Only part of one wing had collapsed, so far, but the thing had hundreds of arms, and these pounced out and down into corridor and chamber, and through the dust he could see some of these arms passing struggling human forms inward to the thing's central cage. Horrified, he rolled away from the sight.
He came up against the door, which had popped open. The stairs leading down appeared quite unscathed. A last glance back showed Axel that other giant arms had landed on the grounds and by the stables, in a rough circle around the main building. They were eating the trees.
Axel wailed and fell through the open door.
§
Calandria sorted herself out of the tangle of lead triangles and glass flinders on which she had landed. She had never read of, seen or VR'd someone jumping through a leaded glass window before; it had turned out to be a lot more difficult than she had expected.
It had taken two tries, but she was on the ground now. Poor August was still upstairs, but there was only so much she could do. She rolled to her feet, rubbing blood out of her eyes.
Madness had fallen from the sky. She had a perfect view of the grounds from here in the bushes by the front steps of the manor. People were running back and forth, trying in equal numbers to get into and out of the house. An aerostat hovered over the estate, visible in the light of fires that were springing up all over. Calandria stared at it for a moment, then shook her head to clear the muddle of half-thoughts that filled it. Bits of glass flew from her hair.
A deep crash sounded from inside the manor; the front doors flew open, and a waft of dust blew out. There was no going back in there—but she had to find Axel. She bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment, debating whether to use radio to contact him.
A huge metal arm plowed into the earth a hundred meters away. Its end flopped there for a second or two, then split into a hundred bright threads, which coiled outward. Each thread—which must be a motile cable as thick as her body—bent and probed the ground ahead of itself as it moved. She realized suddenly that this thing might be able to smell her out from the radio waves, and her scalp crawled with sudden fear. She had
been about to contact Axel. Its cables continued to unravel and lengthen, and some were heading towards her.
With a terrible rending crash, one wall of the manor fell outward. Calandria screamed as the air around her was filled with flying stone. At least ten people had been hurrying across the patch of ground the wall had hit.
She stood back and cupped her hands around her mouth. ."Axel!" Twenty meters away, a gleaming metal snake reared into the air, its mandibled tip quivering. It slid deliberately in her direction.
A hand fell on her shoulder. It was Axel, coughing and covered head to foot in blood and grey dust.
"You're hurt!" She gingerly peeled his sticky shirt aside.
"It's superficial. You look a bit rough yourself. You okay?" he said.
"So far. Look at that!" She pointed at the questing snake.
He glanced at it briefly. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."
"Which way?"
"We need our supplies. Where's your stuff?"
"August's got it. He's... well, we got separated. How about yours?"
Axel pointed wordlessly at the heap of rubble even now being picked through by metal scavengers.
"Inside!" She went to grab his arm, and thought better of it; she didn't know where all his wounds were. "Oh, Axel, what happened?" She gestured for him to follow her up the pillared steps. The snakelike thing was only a few meters away now.
"Can't we just run for it?" He stood swaying slightly, staring at it.
"Come on!" Abandoning care, she hauled him inside. The foyer of the manor was a chaos of screaming people. One staircase had collapsed; a weeping woman dug frantically at the wreckage, screaming "Hold on! I'm coming!" Some soldiers with their swords in their hands stood in a knot, staring hectically at the shadowed ceiling. Men were hauling injured people and corpses in from one of the side corridors.
"There's nowhere else to go," said Axel.
"What's happening?" She pulled Axel to face her; his expression was lost in darkness, since the only light came from a couple of oil lamps, and from fires burning outside.
"Turcaret says they're after Jordan," said Axel. "I guess his implants set them off somehow. The bastard did this to me," he said, raising his arms then wincing. "Tried to set me up for the murder of Yuri."
She shrugged angrily. "Yes, I saw the result. Where's Jordan?"
"No idea." One of the front doors fell off its hinges. With everything else that was happening, this didn't seem momentous. But harsh cones of electric light pierced the dust from outside. Calandria heard a loud whirring sound, accompanied by undulating movements in the doorway.
"What do we do now?" she said.
"Nothing," he said, staring into the light.
"Not nothing!" She let her breath out in a rush, coughed on dust, and said, "We shoot down the aerostat."
Axel's eyes widened. "With what?"
"Call the Desert Voice. Land her here. Have her take out the aerostat on the way."
"But Jordan—"
"Axel, we're done here! We need to get Armiger and get out of here. Axel—" she couldn't prevent her voice from rising as she spoke—"they're killing everyone here! Because of Armiger!"
Axel's lips were drawn in a tight grimace. He clenched his fists and glared at her while around them people screamed. "All right!" he said finally. "Do it!"
Calandria closed her eyes and opened the link.
§
Turcaret ducked involuntarily as something nearby fell with a crash. The manor was coming down around him, but he couldn't leave it until he had taken care of his people.
He fought his way past running servants to his people's quarters. The maids and footmen were clustered at the windows, staring outside in disbelief. "Run!" he barked at them. "Quickly now. Get outside before the rest comes down."
"What's happening?" wailed one. "Is it the war?"
He shook his head. "Just go."
They made for the door.
He sighed. Duty was satisfied; now to find Jordan Mason.
He had no idea whether the assassination of Yuri had gone off successfully, but that seemed unimportant now. The Heaven hooks were in a rage. He could hear them, a deep sussurating chorus in his mind.
Never in his life had Turcaret been in the presence of such powerful Winds. He had heard voices as a child, and long before he met anyone who could explain them, had decided they were Winds. Little things spoke to him, trees and stones, and sometimes he could reply. They generally rambled about subjects he didn't understand, but every now and then they brought news of the Hooks, or the Diadem Swans, and once or twice had told him of the activities of the desals. He clearly remembered the day he learned that the desals had chosen to put the lady Galas on the throne of Iapysia. She was blessed by the Winds; it was this fact that finally made him throw in with Brendan Sheia, because she had somehow angered the desals, and he feared what the Winds might do if that happened.
Now the voices discussed their search for a man. The Winds were acting to eliminate a threat—but how could that be? In all his years, Turcaret had never heard the Winds speak of any sort of danger to themselves or the world. They were all-powerful.
Sometimes when the Winds were very near, Turcaret could see secrets within things. That was happening now, but on a scale he could never have imagined. Everywhere he looked, ghostly words and images seemed to hover in front of objects—the chairs, walls, casements and jittering chandeliers each had its orbiting retinue of tiny visions. He knew if he had time to stop and examine them, each would reveal some secret about the object behind it. You could learn all the crafts, from masonry to bookbinding this way.
He had always felt exalted by such gifts. They were proof that he was special, destined in some way to be a great leader and master over both Man and Nature. When he heard whispers of the coming of the Heaven hooks last night, Turcaret had assumed they knew of his plot with Brendan Sheia, and were preparing to marshal the forces of heaven itself behind their attempt to wrest control of the Boros family. Sheia didn't believe him when Turcaret told him, so they had continued with the conservative approach: framing the visiting imposters for the assassination. But Turcaret had suspected such detail work would prove unnecessary in the face of what was to come.
Now the Winds had arrived, and they were destroying the estate! He would have thought they disapproved of Yuri's assassination, were it not that he could hear plainly they wanted only one thing: Jordan Mason.
Turcaret himself meant nothing to them. That knowledge came as a deep blow, worse than anything Chan had inflicted.
At the foot of the stairs, people were spilling into the courtyard. He could see Linden Boros trying to organize his men among tilting statues. The terrifying arms of the Hooks reared overhead.
Turcaret ignored them; they were no threat to him. He scanned the faces in the courtyard. He had seen Mason once, being hoisted aloft in Castor's courtyard for some minor victory. And indeed, there he was coming out of the front hall. He looked more boy than man, his dark hair tousled, eyes wide.
"Give me your sword," Turcaret demanded of a passing soldier. Dazed though he was, the man hurried to comply. Turcaret hefted the blade and walked through the mob, eyes fixed on Mason.
What was this boy to the Winds? He was nothing but a loutish tradesman, and yet the Heaven hooks were willing to kill everyone on the estate to get at him. "You!" Turcaret levelled his sword at Mason. "What did you do to anger them?"
"I don't know!" shouted the boy. He shook himself and glared at Turcaret. "And who are you to accuse me?"
Anger always calmed Turcaret; it gave him focus. He smiled now at the boy. "You've spent too long with Chan. Answer me! What have you done to offend the Winds?"
Uncertainty crept into Mason's eyes again. He was lit in intermittent flashes of lightning, making him seem to shift in place. If he tried to run, Turcaret was prepared to kill him.
"I don't know why they're doing it," Mason said simply. He seemed guileless; whatever he had done, he was pro
bably too stupid to remember or connect it to tonight's events.
The Heaven hooks would keep tearing the estate apart until they found Mason. He was the cancer at the heart of the night, and only his removal would restore the correct order to things.
Killing him would also surely make the Winds notice Turcaret at last.
"Stand still," he instructed the youth. He stepped forward and raised the sword.
Lightning flashed again, and Turcaret caught a glimpse of Mason's eyes. In them Turcaret saw something he had never believed he would see.
Words and images flickered like heat lightning in those eyes. Somehow, this youth was both Man and Wind. The whispering voices of nature spoke from within him. All the people on this estate—all people everywhere—appeared to Turcaret as absences, silhouettes against the glow of the Winds. All except Mason, who shone like nature itself.
Mason glanced up at the sky. Suddenly everyone in the courtyard was screaming.
Mason jumped back. People were running for the walls, so finally Turcaret tore his gaze away from the youth.
He just had time to count the claws on the giant hand before it fell on him, took him, and crushed out his life.
§
Jordan met August Ostler in a cellar hallway choked with dust and swarming with terrified people. The soldier looked stunned, and Jordan had to take him by the shoulders and shout in his face to get his attention.
August blinked at him. Despite the warm red light of the torches, August's face was deadly pale. "The Heaven hooks have come," he said.
"I know," Jordan said impatiently. "Where's my lady?"
A series of scraping thuds sounded overhead, like the foosteps of a bewildered giant. The crowd grew suddenly silent; their gleaming eyes rolled and glanced to and fro.
Jordan felt curiously detached. He knew he would be in the same state as these people, if he didn't know who the Heaven hooks wanted. But they wanted him; knowing that made his mind wonderfully clear. He was sure he was as afraid as anyone here, but his fear was focussed and sharp. He knew the thudding steps above were the gropings of a god which was determined to take the manor apart stone by stone until it found him.
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