“Stop distracting me,” she told him, pushing him gently away. “I’ve arranged to meet with Delt this morning.”
“You looked like you needed some help.”
“To put my clothes on, not take them off. And it would be much easier to put my clothes on if they didn’t fasten in such ridiculous, difficult-to-get-to places.”
“You’re meant to leave that to servants.”
“If we had servants you wouldn’t be here watching me dress.”
“That’s true. So let me help you dress.”
“No. You clearly don’t know the meaning of the word ‘dress’. Sit down and let me sort this out.”
Shrugging, he returned to the chair he’d been watching her from, wondering how he could be so lucky to have the affections of such a woman. A second time. Despite every bad decision he’d ever made.
“What was I saying before you interrupted?” she wondered aloud.
“Kettin. Trapping her in a world.” He paused to consider. “If the world was full of her machines that would probably lead to her death anyway. The world would be dead. She’d be as vulnerable as any ordinary woman.”
Rielle winced. “That depends on how hospitable the world is. People and animals would have been destroyed by the machines, but not crops. But her death is not what we’re trying to achieve.”
“To avoid killing anyone.” He nodded. “I disagree that luring her machines into a trap is more important. For a start, I doubt she would – or could – send every war machine in existence into one world, and she would just make more if she lost them anyway. Without her, machines will still be made, but the purpose of using them to destroy and control all the worlds would be gone.”
“Unless someone stepped into her place.” Her eyebrows lowered. “Whatever lure we use has to be enough to draw her, all her followers and all the machines. She wants to kill me and the Restorers, and all strong sorcerers.” Turning her back to the mirror, she looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at her reflection. The hems of her dress began to overlap, buttons slowly pushing through buttonholes. “Together we are a great enough lure to attract everything we want to get rid of.”
Tyen waited until she was finished so as to not break her concentration. “So, we put out a rumour that the Restorers have a secret new base, and you and I are there.”
She nodded and turned to face him. “Then let some of her people discover the location. How do I look?”
He nodded in both agreement and approval. She’d not explained why she wanted to dress as a local woman now, and he’d expected it to seem odd. Instead she looked very fine indeed. The dressmaker had adapted current fashion to Rielle’s build extremely well, capturing her grace and celebrating the curves that the last five cycles of true ageing had enhanced – curves he was pleased she hadn’t used pattern-shifting to remove. The colour of the fabric suited her brown skin and dark hair. He brought his attention back to the subject with an effort.
“But would Kettin suspect a trick if all of her targets were coincidentally found in one location?” he asked.
Rielle pursed her lips in thought. “Probably. I would if I were her. I’d want the information verified before I risked approaching.”
“Then all we need to do is let a spy or two into the world and make sure it convincingly looks like the new base.”
“And a stronger one than before, so that she has to bring all of her machines and followers.”
“If we could create a sense of urgency, she’d attack sooner. Perhaps not wait for confirmation.”
She sat down and slipped on her shoes. “A rumour that I’ve become ageless?”
“No, that would make her more cautious.”
“A rumour that I am trying to become ageless, then.”
“Hmm. We should be very cautious about even hinting that you might be. The risk that you may succeed might make her hesitate.”
“Is there something else we could use?” She rose and walked over to the bedroom door and opened it.
Tyen followed but did not get a chance to reply.
“Oh, you look very nice this morning, Rielle,” a familiar voice said from the direction of the dining setting. Tyen smiled, then smoothed his expression and strode through. “Good morning, Father. You’ve let yourself in again, I see.”
Deid smiled. “Well, if I’d known you two were now that sort of friends, I’d have had my breakfast alone.”
Tyen opened his mouth to deny it, then realised he was responding automatically, as if to Tarren’s teasing. I should introduce Tarren to my father, he found himself thinking, then immediately changed his mind.
“It’s lovely of you to have arranged such a fine breakfast, Deid,” Rielle said, glancing at Tyen. She moved over to the dining setting, which was covered in plates of food, and sat down. “Any interesting news?”
Deid lifted the newssheet in his hands. “Plenty of speculation about you two and the Academy.”
“Not surprisingly, considering the quality of that newssheet,” Tyen muttered.
“Indeed. But they do note that the meeting between the southerner couple and the Emperor went well, apparently.” Deid flicked through a few pages. “Then it returns to the usual gossip and complaints. I keep waiting for them to get bored with you lot but—”
A knock at the main door to the apartment interrupted him. Tyen had reached one of the empty dining chairs but not yet sat down, so he answered the door. A young woman – one of the students he’d first brought to this world – stood outside, deep shadows under her eyes.
“Zeke wishes to speak to you as soon as possible, Director,” she told him. Her mind told him a great deal more, but fragmented and fuzzed by weariness. His heart leapt into a faster beat.
He nodded. “Thank you.” Closing the door, he moved back to the dining table, picked up a piece of toast and spooned bluedrop conserve on it. “I’m afraid I can’t stay and discuss the gossip, Father,” he said. “The inventors have made some sort of breakthrough.”
Rielle put down her cup and rose. “Really? I’ll come with you.”
Deid shrugged, barely raising his eyes from the paper. “When such important news calls you away, I can’t complain.”
“Thank you for arranging breakfast,” Tyen said. “I do wish I could have enjoyed it with you.”
“Another day. Go save the world.” Deid paused. “Worlds.”
Rielle laid a hand briefly on the old man’s shoulder, then followed Tyen out of the apartment. Once in the corridor Tyen quickly ate his toast. He increased his stride when he was done. There had been no urgency in the student’s thoughts, only a tired excitement and, inexplicably, disappointment.
“Should we seek out Zeke’s mind?” Rielle asked.
Tyen shook his head. “I suspect he wants to explain in person, or to demonstrate something, or he’d have sent a clearer message.”
Since the hotel was not far from the Academy and it was still early, it was faster to walk than order a carriage. The streets were busy despite the hour, but not so crowded that anyone who noticed them couldn’t make a little space. At the main Academy doors, Halyn waited. He knew Zeke had requested Tyen visit, but not why.
“Anything urgent I need to attend to first?” Tyen asked. Halyn shook his head. “Come with me.”
The three of them made their way through the Academy to the mechanical magic wing. The rooms were uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Zeke stepped out of a doorway several steps away.
“Tyen. Rielle. I hope I didn’t interrupt your breakfast.”
Rielle chuckled. “There will be other breakfasts.”
“Many more, if we are right about this.” Zeke beckoned them into the room. Unlike the student messenger, he showed no signs of fatigue, Tyen noted. Perhaps Dahli had healed it away.
When Tyen and Rielle stepped inside, they both paused, taking in a strange sight. Machine pieces littered the floor. A buzzing drew Tyen’s attention to a swarm of metallic insects circling above them.
Noting Dahli standing at the back of the room, Tyen inclined his head. The man returned the gesture of respect. Zeke moved to a shelf and took one of Kettin’s less developed machines down. He placed it on the floor, then manipulated something under its casing.
It sprang to life, hobbling forward with one bent segmented leg.
A high peep came from something in Mig’s hand. The swarm of insects dove. As each tiny mechanism landed on the machine, it began to scurry over the casing. Their numbers decreased rapidly, and Tyen understood why when he noticed one disappear into the seam where a leg met the body.
The machine stopped and began to let out a series of creaks and pops.
And then it convulsed. Legs froze. The sensors that gave it machine sight popped out of their fittings. The body seams popped open and the casing clattered apart.
“They cut wires, undo screws and inject glue or shrapnel to clog up moving parts,” Mig explained. “Kettin’s machines can’t sense them. They’re too small to be detected and they use very little magic.”
Tyen nodded. “How do they get past the machine’s shield?”
“They land on top of the shield and wait until the machine switches from shielding to attacking.”
“They’re fast enough?”
“Just.”
Rielle shook her head. “So Kettin’s machines can’t shield and attack simultaneously?”
“No,” Zeke answered. “It’s not as great a weakness as you might think because it happens too quickly for an attacker to take advantage of it. Sometimes a lucky shot has landed at the right moment, but it’s so rare, and the number of machines in a battle so large, that it makes little difference.”
“Why don’t they shield and attack simultaneously?” she asked.
“To take magic into two reservoirs would require doubling the components,” Mig answered. “The machine would weigh more, and therefore spend more magic on levitating.”
“More likely it’s because they aren’t sophisticated enough yet,” Zeke disagreed. “As you know, in order to push stilled air or heat outwards while shielding you must create holes in your shield for it to pass through. Since those holes only exist while a strike is passing through, a point of weakness isn’t created. Even if machines could attack and shield at the same time, they aren’t yet able to shape their shields as we can.”
“Yet.” Rielle looked from Zeke to Mig and back. “Sounds like those are weaknesses that would eventually be overcome.”
The pair nodded. “War invention is always a race of ideas,” Zeke said, then smiled at Mig. “Sometimes all you need to get the upper hand is a fresh idea. Mig’s original insectoid didn’t use magic but a kind of mechanism that stored energy in springs. It didn’t run for long however. We considered how to use magic to extend that, then realised we were looking at the wrong part of his idea to adapt. Our usual way of storing magic is more efficient, but instead of that magic being used to still, move, heat or chill outside the machine, we use it almost exclusively to move parts within the insectoid. In effect, we’re aiming to use magic as little as possible rather than take Kettin’s approach of getting machines to do everything humans can.”
“The hard part was finding a way for the insects to find the right target,” Mig added, “so they don’t destroy all the machines in this world. It was a modification Zeke came up with to improve Kettin’s machines that turned out to be their weakness.” His expression became grave. “Her machines detect and target the heat and movement of living things. Once they find it, they signal to others. The communication isn’t audible to humans, but it’s unique to Kettin’s machines. We’ve designed our swarms to home in on that.”
Tyen looked around the room. “Have you tried your swarm on the repaired machine Rielle brought back from the battle?”
“Not yet,” Zeke replied. “We have only one of them, and once it is destroyed it may be harder to study it.”
Tyen nodded. “How many insectoids do you have?”
“Just these right now,” Mig replied. “But they are quick to assemble when you have the right components on hand.”
Tyen looked from him to Zeke. “We’re going to need a lot more.”
Zeke nodded. “At least two for each of Kettin’s machines. Preferably ten.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Tyen considered the size of the task. He could order all members of the Academy to begin assembling them, but that wouldn’t come close to enough people. Much of the work could be done by non-sorcerers, but sorcerers would have to supervise. He’d need all of the machine makers of the city, and possibly of the entire empire. It was unlikely nobody would protest, when every machine-part maker in Leratia had to put aside current orders and turn their expertise and factories to manufacturing insectoids. But if cities and countries outside Beltonia were told it was for their own defence, they would be more cooperative.
“Halyn, send a message to the palace. I have a request to make of the Emperor.”
“Right away, Director.”
As the sound of his assistant’s footsteps faded, Tyen turned to Rielle. “We need to get a message to Qall.”
She nodded, her eyes widening a little. “I’ll change my appearance.”
“No, you stay. I’ll go. Kettin doesn’t want me dead, as far as I know.”
“But you—”
“I’ll go.”
They turned to regard Dahli. “Kettin’s watchers might read your mind,” Tyen said.
“If they do they won’t find any memory of the location of this world or the threat to Kettin’s machines,” Dahli replied. He looked at Rielle. “You must stay here. If I can notice the change in you, others will too.”
Her eyes widened. “You’d better hide that memory, too.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” he assured her.
Zeke looked puzzled at the exchange, but as Dahli looked at him, he shrugged. “I won’t ask, but… you said we should stick together.”
Dahli nodded. “I know. You will be safer here than coming with me. Don’t worry, I won’t be recognised and I won’t be away for long.”
Zeke did not look happy, but he did not argue either. He turned to Rielle. “How high above the ground do Kettin’s machines extend to when they enter worlds?”
She paused to consider. “Four, five hundred paces maybe.”
He straightened, glanced at Mig, then turned to Tyen. “Have you ever transported an aircart between worlds before?”
“No,” Tyen replied.
“The swarms would be most efficiently released from above. If the Academy sorcerers who know how to fly them were willing to join in the battle, they may prove very useful.”
Tyen looked at Rielle. She guessed what he was thinking: if their plan to lure Kettin and her machines into a world and isolate it went ahead, no Academy sorcerers need risk their lives, but he couldn’t reveal that now. “If they are willing, and the Emperor approves.”
“Of course.” Zeke shrugged.
Tyen nodded. “In the meantime, you and your helpers need to draw up specifications for making machine parts and instructions for assembly, as well as make some to test on Kettin’s most recent machine.” He looked at Dahli. “The sooner we contact Qall the better. I’ll send a messenger when I’m back from the palace.” Next, he turned to Rielle. “You wanted to speak to Kep and Annad,” he reminded her.
“Yes, I’ll do that now before I am too busy to see them.”
“Give them my regards.” Tyen nodded to Dahli. “I’ll see you soon.” He headed for the door, but when he got there he noted that Rielle was not following and looked back. She smiled and waved him away, so he entered the corridor alone.
His footsteps echoed in the quiet. Two breakthroughs, he thought. Two sources of hope. But Rielle doesn’t yet know how to isolate a world, and we can’t be sure if Mig’s insectoids can bring down one of those spheres of machines, l
et alone several of them.
Then another thing occurred to him. If Mig’s insectoids can, Rielle didn’t need to become ageless after all. The words “of course she did” rang in his mind. He was immensely relieved to find the woman he loved had not disappeared, replaced by someone strange and inhuman – a god or demon or something else. If she’d changed so dramatically, he would have grieved and regretted his decision. But if what she became was what she was meant to be, I had no right to stop it. Unless it was truly going to destroy all the worlds, that is.
The only person who seemed bent on doing that was Kettin.
They had two possible weapons against her and her machines now: an ageless Maker and Mig’s insectoids. Hopefully that would mollify Qall when he found out that Rielle had not kept her side of their agreement, and Tyen had helped her.
PART TEN
RIELLE
The easiest way to tell a native of the city of Beltonia from everyone else was to wait until the sun came out. Even in summer, periods of sunshine were short in the city, the only difference being a greater frequency of them. So when the sun came out, the locals did too, and if they couldn’t they grew restless. Even Tarren had commented that it was hard to get his students to concentrate whenever the clouds parted.
For more than thirty days now, Tyen had been occupied from early morning to late in the night with organising the manufacture of Mig’s insects. The Grand Hall was filling with boxes of them. He’d taken the design to countries around the world, including the south, and shown the locals how to make and deploy them. It was a benefit of the great spread of the Leratian Empire that he was able to find people and materials for making the insects anywhere within its territories. In the Far South the only places where people were capable were in the city beneath the ruins of Spirecastle, and the school of sorcery.
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