arched. “For almost a decade you have served as Master, yet
you have only now, at a time of crisis, come to call. The week
your father occupied your position, he appeared at once.”
Carter raised his own eyebrows in surprise, both at the
man’s presumption and his apparent age. Clearly he was older
than he seemed, perhaps even as long-lived as Chant. “The
significance and even the existence of your office eluded me at
first. As you doubtless recall, I invited you to the Inner
Chambers as soon as I knew to do so.”
Phra’s dark eyes lit with perplexity. “This is the Tower of
Astronomy, the most important structure in Evenmere. You tell
me you were unaware of its magnitude?”
“References to the Servants’ Circle are scarce,” Carter
replied.
“Your butler should have informed you.”
“He found nothing to indicate the relationship.”
“You should replace him. He is clearly incompetent.”
Carter tried to keep his voice level. “It would have been
helpful if you, or any of the other members of the Circle, had
appeared at the Inner Chambers to advise me of your
positions. Or at least sent word. And I did try to call upon you,
but you refused to see me.”
Phra again gave Lord Anderson that expression of half-
puzzlement, half-contempt. “The Masters have been coming to
me for generations. I cannot be wandering the house when the
stars must be watched. The system is too delicate, and I am
often too busy to receive guests. You should have persevered.
Look through that glass.”
Taken aback by the sudden command, Carter grudgingly
stepped across to the telescope. He adjusted the eye-piece,
bringing an orange star with six circling planets into focus.
“What am I seeing?”
“That is the Lotinius system, once a double star with twice
as many planets. There are two modes of organization in place
in Evenmere: the structure of the house affects the overall
patterns of the stars, and I keep those patterns in balance.
Three hundred years ago, a group called the Philanthropists
leveled a portion of Eastwing with fire, causing a shift in the
universe. This was one of the results: six planets and a sun
gone. I did what I could. As soon as I sensed the fluctuations, I
tried to compensate with the astrolabical levers, but the
damage was too extensive. One of the satellites was inhabited
by a crude form of animal life. Stars die naturally as part of the
process of existence, but none should perish before their time.
As you can see, mine is the greatest responsibility in
Evenmere; I cannot waste my time with other concerns.”
Seeing no need to argue the point, Carter asked. “May I
see the mechanisms you use?”
“Of course.”
Phra led through the previously closed door, which opened
onto a narrow stair. They ascended to a larger chamber
obviously positioned directly above the dome in the room
below, for telescopes passed through the floor and beyond to
the ceiling, making the room a mechanical jumble. At its
center lay a glass dome with the star field replicated in three-
dimensional splendor within. Levers, buttons, and valves
surrounded the dome, covered with mysterious labels such as
Foumal Ht .
“From this room,” Phra said, “I regulate the course of the
stars.”
“All of it, from this chamber?”
“There are other controls on the spans crossing the towers,
but this is the central mechanism.”
“And the Poetry Men are coming here. What will happen if
they reach this room?”
“We must not allow it,” Phra said. “We will not. They must
not tamper with the stars.”
“They would do worse than tamper. They are fanatics with
unbelievable power, who may intend on destroying the
towers.”
“No one is that mad.”
“They are.”
Phra stood silent, his face growing pale. “If that were to
happen, order would be lost. Gravity shifts, stellar explosions,
suns blowing across the universe like fireworks, Existence
itself losing cohesion. Everything would go.”
The blood left Carter’s face. Words failed him.
The two returned to the Main Observation Hall below.
Some message must have reached the soldiers, for they were
awake now, sitting in silence beside the mechanisms along the
walls, guns ready. Jonathan passed among them, giving them
encouragement.
“So that is the minstrel,” Phra said. “I have heard of him
for generations.”
“Let me introduce you.”
“Don’t bother,” Phra replied. “He is obviously nothing
more than a vagabond. He and his little stories may have some
small place in the Balance, but he certainly does not hold the
cosmic importance of you and I. Besides, I am not one for idle
conversation. I will retire to my chambers to await the assault
with my wife, Blodwen.”
“Lizbeth told me you were married.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Some of the other long-lived, such as Enoch and Chant,
have chosen to remain single.”
“It is understandable. Our wives age and die, while we do
not; but I have learned to adapt, and have had several
companions throughout my life. My assistants will prepare a
bed for you in our guest quarters.”
“That won’t be necessary. I will wait with the men. A
room for Lizbeth would be appreciated.”
“My people will see to it.” Phra gave a nodding bow and
retraced his steps up the spiral stair.
Carter joined Duskin and Lizbeth, who were sitting on a
pair of low stools.
“Have a pleasant chat?” Duskin asked.
“I have never met anyone more aloof.”
“It’s the danger of having the word ‘Grand’ in your title,”
Duskin said. “It makes you realize how humble Enoch is, who
has lived centuries longer.”
Carter laughed. “Ah, but Enoch is merely in charge of
Time. As Phra pointed out, he is master of the most important
thing in Evenmere.”
“And where would Phra be, without Chant to keep the
stars lit?” Lizbeth asked.
“Still, I understand the astronomer’s intensity,” Lord
Anderson admitted. “Who knows how I would feel if I were
Master for hundreds of years? Makes you understand why we
should be replaced now and then.”
Carter withdrew his pocket-watch and raised his eyebrows
in concern, for it was after ten o’clock. “Duskin, I must enter
the dream dimension to guard Jason.”
“We need you here. Our scouts say the Poetry Men are less
than a mile from the base of the Tower. An assault may come
at any moment.”
“We could wake you, if necessary,” Lizbeth said.
“That is impossible,” Carter said. “By its nature, once I am
within the dream, I have to wake myself.”
He stood in a sudden agony of indecision. “I
will have to
pass back and forth between waking and sleeping. It’s the only
way.”
Carter laid out his bedroll in a quiet nook between the
spiral stair and the wall. Lying on his back, he spoke the Word
Which Masters Dreams. The room trembled only slightly, and
he was soon walking the Inner Chambers once more.
Chastising himself for his tardiness, he hurried to his son’s
room. The position of the lamp indicated that Jason was
asleep. For all Carter knew, Armilus could have already found
his way into the dream. Why had he wasted time speaking to
the overblown astronomer? What kind of father was he, to
forget his son?
Cursing the paradoxes of the sleeping world, he
momentarily paced the floor, then spoke the Word Which
Brings Aid, hoping to summon Sarah or Mr. Hope. To his
surprise, Jason himself came drifting down the corridor,
dressed in blue pajamas and looking puzzled.
“Hello, Papa,” the boy said, as if Carter had never been
away.
“Hello, Son.” Carter scooped the lad into his arms,
hugging him tightly. “I love you so much. You know that,
don’t you?”
“I love you too, Papa. Where is Momma?”
“Oh, this is just a dream you’re having and she isn’t in it.”
“Oh.” The boy’s brow furrowed thoughtfully.
“Let’s put you in your bed, and you can tell me about your
day.”
Once Jason was tucked in, Carter sat by his bedside. Dread
welled within him as he thought of deserting his son to return
to the Tower of Astronomy.
“We had bread pudding after dinner,” Jason said, “and Mr.
Hope played ball with me.”
“You like Mr. Hope, don’t you?”
“Yes. He’s funny.”
“Funny old Mr. Hope.”
Lord Anderson !
Carter leapt to his feet. The voice came from down the
hall.
Carter debated leaving Jason in his bed, but picked him up
instead.
“Who is that?” Jason asked.
“Hush.” Carter went to the door and glanced around its
corner. The hallway lay in the twilight cast by a single gas-jet
burning at either end, and a heavy figure waited there, his face
half-illuminated. Behind him stood the beast Lord Anderson
thought he had killed, or another exactly like it.
“Nothing rash, sir,” Doctor Armilus said. “No Words of
Power, no Lightning Sword. I mean no harm; I want only to
parley.”
Keeping close to the doorway, Carter turned sideways,
putting himself between his son and any weapon the doctor
might be carrying.
“I would like to approach, but won’t get too close,”
Armilus said. “Are you agreeable? A temporary truce?”
“Come ahead.” Lord Anderson wanted to set Jason down,
to send him back to his room, but feared doing so, lest this be
some trick. Carter drew his pistol from beneath his jacket.
“Far enough,” he said, when the doctor had come within a
dozen paces.
Armilus halted. A contest of wills seemed to occur, each
man waiting for the other to speak first.
It was Armilus who broke the silence. “As you can see,
Lord Anderson, I have finally penetrated into the Inner
Chambers. It was difficult, even with the help of The Book of
Lore .”
“What do you want?”
“To demonstrate my capabilities. Your son, as you must
realize, is not safe; but let us not lose sight of my goals, of
which the child plays no part. He is only a pawn, a means of
controlling you. I am actually fond of children and would
rather not waste my energies threatening young Jason.”
Armilus curled his lip in distaste. “A black strategy really,
rather beneath any of us. I have a proposal.”
“I won’t relinquish my responsibilities.”
“So you have said. You are an honorable man, Lord
Anderson, as was your father before you. A shame that such as
we are not allies, but …” Armilus gave his massive shoulders
an almost imperceptible shrug. “Still, for both our sakes, some
understanding must be reached. The Poetry Men will soon
assault the Tower of Astronomy. If they destroy it as they did
Jossing, the consequences are unimaginable.”
Armilus paused. Carter remained silent, wondering how
the doctor knew of the invasion.
“A truce, Lord Anderson. A truce and I vow to never again
attempt to steal or harm your son. Not only that, but my men
will do what we can to protect the Tower of Astronomy and
the rest of the Circle of Servants. In return, you will not
actively work against my party so long as the Poetry Men are a
threat, unless you see that we are directly endangering the
house.”
“Everything you do endangers the house.”
Armilus gave the barest smile. “You of all men know
better. This is not some childish play, utter good against
complete evil. We are both men of principle. I ask only for
some leeway. I am rebuilding the party; let me do so. Between
us, we will end the threat of these poets.”
In utter weariness of mind and soul, Carter glanced down
at Jason, not daring to admit how badly Armilus’ presence in
the Inner Chambers unnerved him. Even now he needed to
return to the Tower of Astronomy, but could not leave his son.
Nor could he continue this draining nightly vigil much longer.
He thought of the attack on Chant and the burning of the
forest, the death of the Smith of Welkin Well, the annihilation
of the company at Lookfar Passage. Everywhere, Evenmere
was besieged. He had thought to divide his energies between
protecting Jason and saving the house; he should have realized
he could never do both.
“A truce,” he finally said. “For tonight, and until the
Poetry Men are defeated. But if I see that your actions imperil
Evenmere, I will oppose you. And I will be the judge to decide
if you cross that line.”
The doctor gave no hint of emotion. “No arbitration? Very
well. This is not a time for pride. The stakes are too high. I
will trust to your honor. We have an agreement.”
“How can I trust a murderer?”
“Yes, I have murdered,” the doctor replied, his mouth
turned down in a scowl. “I have murdered for the greater good.
I have become hardened to murder for the Great Cause. But I
do serve a cause; I am not merely a fanatic. The Poetry Men
are insane; they will kill us all unless we stop them. So you
have the word of the Supreme Anarchist not to harm your son
on this or any other night. Jason is free. Good evening, Lord
Anderson.”
Armilus touched his hand to the brim of his bowler and
vanished, leaving Carter trembling in rage and despair.
“Who was that, Papa?”
“A very bad man. If you ever see him when you are alone,
you must run as fast as you can and hide in the deepest corners
of the house. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
> “Now let’s get you back to bed.”
Carter tucked Jason under the covers. “Sweet dreams,
child. Now return from here to a dreamless sleep.”
Jason slowly faded away, leaving Carter heartsick and
alone. He had done that which he had never thought to do. He
had made a deal with the devil himself; and the consequences
of that action might bring ruin to all of Existence.
Battle for the Tower
Carter brought himself out of the dream dimension,
waking in the Main Observation Hall to find Phra shaking him
by the shoulder. “You must rise, Lord Anderson. Our foes are
nearly upon us.”
Carter stood at once, unreasonably irritated at the
astronomer. “What do the men report?”
“Nothing as yet,” Phra said, “but they soon will. I perceive
our enemies approaching, burning with an energy akin to that
of stars. I have never felt anything like it before, except from
the heavens. Can you sense them?”
Carter paused, opening himself to the house. “There is a
slight shifting of the Balance, but nothing more. The
impressions you are receiving must be related to your
particular talents.”
All around the chamber, the soldiers were already on their
feet, readying their weapons, mostly pistols since battles in
Evenmere usually involved fighting at close quarters. Duskin
was speaking to Lieutenant Sedger, the officer in charge of the
White Circle Guard, a warrior Lord Anderson had known for
years. Carter gave a wave to the two men, and Duskin broke
away and strode to his brother’s side.
“Sir!” a man called to Duskin from the chamber entrance.
“Captain DuLac sends word that a company is climbing the
stair.”
“We’ll be right there.” Duskin turned a pale face to Carter.
“DuLac is a good officer. He will have a fine career if we live
until morning. Are you ready?”
Lord Anderson drew his pistol and Lightning Sword. “Yes.
Is Lizbeth safe?”
“As safe as any of us can be. She’s with Phra’s wife in the
upper chambers.”
Together the brothers hurried to the downstairs chamber.
The captain and thirty of the soldiers from North Lowing
stood crowded into the small room. A heavy table had been
placed against the double doorway to form a low barricade.
Carter strode to the opening and stood beside the shrapnel
cannon, looking down the long stair curving away to the left,
Evenmere (The Evenmere Chronicles Book 3) Page 21
