Prince of Storms (41 page)

Then, ahead, a jostling. It was Mo Ti pushing through. An arm as big as a ham swung out to clear a path. Quinn made it to Mo Ti's side. The big man bladed a course through the bodies, a single-minded barging toward the tent that finally brought them into the midst of the Inyx.

He was safe.

Before anything else could go wrong, Quinn signaled his intention to the Inyx—so no one could be alarmed at his unsheathing his sword. He drew it from its scabbard. Sydney's gaze was locked on him. He nodded to her, and to her credit she held firm, though he was now armed. He had not told her how this would unfold. He didn't trust the Inyx not to reveal it; once the rumors began, his symbolic gesture would be ruined.

He went to his knees before her.

He said, not bothering to project his voice, since the Inyx would do that well enough, “I give you my allegiance, Sen Ni. Please accept the regency. Please accept my loyalty now and forever.” With both hands he gave her his sword. “This is yours, now,” he whispered, lest she give the jeweled sword back.

She swayed alarmingly. Damn Venn for a helpless old fool, Sydney wasn't ready for this.

Sydney glared at anyone who would have rushed forward to help her. Unobtrusively placing a steadying hand on Quinn's shoulder—very like a royal blessing—she said, “I accept. I am very well pleased to have your service. We all thank you for what you have done. You have earned a rest.”

The nearest riders let out a cheer, and to Quinn's relief, many joined them. Then hundreds more. The Inyx had relayed the whole scene. He had given her his sword. Kneeled to her. If they weren't persuaded, there was nothing more to be done.

But they kept cheering. The swell of voices grew into a high, deafening roar. Sydney raised her hand and waved to the gathering. Turning to face all sides, she leaned very heavily against Quinn's shoulder.

The sooner he relinquished the scene to Sydney, the better. He spoke under his breath. “Get me out of here, into the tent.”

Sydney glanced at Mo Ti, and he came forward to escort Quinn into the pavilion.

Somehow, she managed to stand for another few moments. The multitudes were seeing this in their minds—those who weren't close enough to view it firsthand—and they were jubilant. If they needed a leader, they had one.

Mo Ti brought down the flap of the tent so that Sydney could have her moment alone. Quinn was dripping in sweat. He had made it. The pavilion. Sydney standing triumphant. But she must not collapse.

“Better escort her in, Mo Ti.”

Grinning broadly, the big man ducked out to retrieve her.

The crowd roar continued, punctuated by cries of
Sen Ni, Sen Ni.
Then she came back in with Mo Ti, using the sword as a cane. Mo Ti led her straight to her bed.

She turned back to look at her father. “A
jeweled
sword?”

He shrugged. “I'm afraid you're stuck with it. Long story.”

“Well.” She tried to sit on the edge of the bed, but it was more of a controlled fall, with Mo Ti catching her and gently laying her down. Her healers came forward.

One of them said, “We told her she had five minutes at the most. She spent
ten
.” The Jinda ceb said that as though it were a personal offense.

Sydney lay on the cot in exhausted repose, still clutching the sword.

TIEJUN THREW A BALL
, landing it against Sen Ni's shoulder as she sat in a chair by her bed. Instantly, the Jinda ceb healers and Mo Ti swarmed around her, taking the ball, pulling Tiejun away.

“Stop this nonsense,” Sen Ni commanded. Pointedly gazing at the group, she said, “I'm not fragile. And I'm not going to have you all fretting like this. Leave him.”

They had been hovering around her worse than ever since yesterday's presentation of the jeweled sword. But after the stress of her recovery and dealing with the gathering, she loved having Tiejun's boisterous play. The boy had now taken refuge under Riod's legs—Riod being a great favorite. From that vantage point Tiejun looked blamefully at Mo Ti, who had tried to corral him.

Sen Ni turned to find her father watching her from across the tent, a small smile on his face. He stood on the sidelines, perhaps determined not to overshadow her. Catching her glance, he said, “People fret over you. Hard to get used to.”

He said it in English. She wasn't sure that she liked that. But he was greatly changed, and struggling—he must be struggling—to accept what he
was. She had not had much time to talk to him, despite yesterday's events. He was not the same man as before. It distressed everyone who had known him. Still, he was not in as bad a condition as he might have been: the navitar process had been interrupted, she reminded herself.

But now there were matters waiting. Lord Inweer. Venn, representing the Jinda ceb. This Early Day she was well enough to deal with them. She was sitting in a chair, washed and dressed. She gave a last hug to Tiejun and then signaled she was ready. The Jinda ceb doctors left the tent, taking the boy.

The pavilion had two entrances, forward and rear. From the rear, Venn entered, having been with the orphans in their tent. From the front entered Lord Inweer, stooping under the open flap. Now the room contained the former regent, the Tarig lord, and a Jinda ceb representative as well as Riod and Mo Ti. So many contending factions, and it was not even clear whether they were competing anymore, nor what their relationship was to Sen Ni herself or to the question of the Rose.

Things that had been so clear to Sen Ni before were now mired in confusion. The Rose, the Rose. She still could feel nothing for it.

Inweer stood before her. Her father had made sure that Inweer was seen to come to her, in her tent. Nevertheless, Inweer now turned to her father. “I thought you would keep the mantle of power.”

Her father murmured, “I almost did.” An answer of disarming honesty, she thought.

Inweer nodded. “Hnn.”

Sen Ni surveyed the Tarig lord. He had persuaded the solitaires to leave. She ought to feel gratitude to him, but old hatreds died hard. He was tall and ugly, with an indelible cast of cruelty. The Tarig had slaughtered the sentients of Rim City. Surreptitiously, she glanced toward Complete One Venn. Here was another one who hated the Tarig. She felt a kindred bond there.

She concentrated hard on a thought so that Riod might pick it up:
Does he mean us well?

Riod answered,
Their thoughts are always closed.

As the quiet in the room began to be uncomfortable, her father said, “Perhaps Lord Inweer has earned freedom from his prison ship.” Her father had already asked this of her, and she was ready to grant it.

She looked up at the lord. “You are free of the prison ship, Lord Inweer.”

Inweer said, “May I keep the ship? Perhaps I am safer in such a home. And there is much yet to see.”

That gave her pause. He would have a powerful advantage in such a ship. But he was only a lone Tarig. And it was true that the sways still hated him, and had killed off his fellow Tarig at every opportunity. But she wasn't quite ready to be magnanimous.

“If you repent your crimes, then you may keep the ship.”

Inweer cut a glance at her father. It annoyed her extremely.

Then Inweer replied to her, “I cannot have regret over what I once was. It was what we all were. It was natural to us.”

“Yet you changed.”

“Only at the end of civilization. I sent my cousins away to save them, not to save you.”

“Then why should we forgive you?”

This time he didn't look to her father. “I do not know about forgiveness. There are past crimes”—he stared rudely at her—“and there is a future relationship. Perhaps we should forgo talk of what some of us have done.”

He was bold to remind her of what she had done and almost done. But she would not be provoked.

“A good suggestion. Let's look to the future. Perhaps you'll show your good faith by removing the mechanism by which the Entire is
folded up
.”

“It cannot be removed. It is buried too deep.”

Sen Ni looked at Venn.

“That is what we think as well,” Venn responded.

The room was very quiet. From outside, the noise of the encampment was a low murmur. “Not a good beginning,” Sen Ni said.

Inweer murmured low, so that not everyone could hear, “I gave you Rim City.”

That came as a slap in the face. She didn't like to remember that he had arranged for her to have that post out of consideration for Johanna. She didn't like to remember that he had had a relationship with Johanna.

“What are you asking of me, Lord Inweer?” So far he hadn't stated what he was here for.

He answered this now: “To stay, Regent. I wish to stay.”

She felt Riod's presence. Reassuring. Not alarmed. “Then swear service to me. I will ask service of you someday, perhaps.” As he seemed to vacillate at this generous offer, she said, “Swear, or find another realm to dominate.”

Then, easily enough, he said, “I swear to serve you.” He lifted his chin. “And—”

By God, she did not want to hear any demands....

“And I recommend Breund to you for commendation.”

Those in the room visibly relaxed. She attempted a lighter tone. “A prisoner extols his warden?”

“Yes. And there is one thing more.”

She did not like his presumption. She did not like
him
. But this was politics. Cixi would have listened to him. Sen Ni would listen.

“As to the Rose,” he began, “I have been exploring possibilities. The engine is demolished. But the Entire still has need of support. If you have no stomach for drawing upon the Rose—the easiest solution—then there are other realms.”

Her father stepped closer. “Regent, may I speak?”

She nodded at him, glad to have him less reticent.

“Lord Oventroe told me that the other realms have already been exploited.”

Inweer shook his head. “Not true.”

Titus went on. “Lord Oventroe said there were no alternatives. Why would he lie, my lord? He said that some of the six universes are devoid of mass in any case, and those that have some mass are not adequate.”

Inweer said, “There are more realms than that.”

“If so…” Her father paused. “But, my lord, Ji Anzi told me that she and Su Bei confirmed—using the correlates that Lord Oventroe gave me—that there
are
six other realms, including the Heart, which is dimensionally unsuited to provide fuel.”

Sen Ni listened to this recitation of universes. She had heard from Cixi that Lord Oventroe had been in league with her father. Now it appeared that Oventroe had also shared many secrets with Titus. More and more interesting. And most interesting of all: Inweer had something to propose.

She held up a hand to forestall further argument. “Tell us your proposal, Lord Inweer.”

Inweer nodded at her father. “It is true there are six kingdoms, not including the Entire.” Turning back to Sen Ni, he went on. “Six kingdoms touching the Entire. Six that might have been able to transfer energy across branes to the Entire. It is true that these, except for the Rose, will be unproductive. However, I have been considering the role of the Empty Lands.”

Sen Ni was startled. The Empty Lands? Each primacy was bisected by an unstable region that could not be entered or crossed, except on the Nigh that flowed through it. She had seen the outlines of such a region once, shimmering on the steppe. Everyone knew such lands were not normal, nor had anyone ever ventured into one and returned.

Inweer went on. “They can be modulated. They are not solid matter, nor constrained by ordinary laws. The Empty Lands of each primacy could be extended indefinitely. They could reach past the local cluster to the realms beyond, and the bright—thus elongated and interfacing with other membranes—could draw energy.”

Mo Ti glanced at Riod, no doubt looking for Riod's sense of truth and lies.

Finally Sen Ni said, “If this were possible, why are we hearing of it just now?”

Inweer answered, “I preferred a simpler solution.”

Yes. The Rose. Sen Ni turned to Venn. “Why didn't
you
think of this?” It came out more blamefully than she had intended.

Venn's very skin seemed to contract. “Because it is no solution. Is it better to steal from a universe far away than one close by?”

“Perhaps it would be voluntary,” Inweer said.

Sen Ni was tired of looking up at him. “Bring Lord Inweer a chair. And please sit down,” she said to him, unwilling to call him
my lord
, as seemed the protocol. Mo Ti brought a chair, and Inweer folded himself into it. Then Sen Ni said, “Now tell the rest of this plan.”

“I have not your delicacy over using the Rose,” he said. “It is all one playing field. If you fail to be strong, you will die.” He nodded at Sen Ni. “You see why it is useless for me to repent. Nevertheless, I do not control matters, but you do, Mistress Regent. Therefore, if you have scruples about
the Rose—I had heard, however, that you did not—but if you have, then reach out beyond the local universes, first sending a delegation to trade for energy. What you have may not be valuable to them all. But some of these universes will be young. They will not have higher civilizations, not as high as we.” Here he included Venn in his glance. “If you find such realms, and if you can bring them into agreement among themselves—not by any means guaranteed—then you can offer them what we excel in. Knowledge.”

“Knowledge,” Sen Ni repeated.

“Knowledge. The physical attributes of the very small. The manipulation of the foam that lies under matter. The nature of time; the cosmology of the many realms. Many things that they may wish to know, that can raise them up from ignorance and poverty.” He shrugged. “Ask for energy in return; in any way that you can bargain for it.”

Venn said, “It would take too much energy to transfer from so far.”

“Not if the bright pierced that universe. It would pass through, where the branes touched.”

Her father said, “Would there be enough? Could the Entire survive on such transfers?”

Venn scoffed. “No, not nearly enough.”

Inweer said, “Perhaps Mistress Venn is correct. Eventually the Entire dies. But surely you would have a billion days.”

“Things might last a bit longer than that,” Venn said. When she had everyone's attention, she went on, “We could introduce something new.” Her glance slid to Inweer. “Nighttime.”

Inweer's voice was a soft growl. “I like it not.”

She shot back, “Perhaps you like cutting off minorals better.”

Inweer stirred in his seat, staring fixedly at Venn. “Your minoral was costly. You had need of a controlled atmosphere.”

“The Ascendancy was costly,” Venn responded, “So much more sensible to build a city on the
ground
.”

He leaned forward. “We could have thrown you into the void.”

“Some of us believe that's precisely what you did.”

Titus stepped forward, pointedly standing between Inweer and Venn. “We already have a waxing and waning bright. It could be a more profound ebb.”

Venn nodded. “It needn't be done all at once, of course. It could be a gradual introduction. To night.”

Sen Ni hid a smile. Night. The fiends had always hated the dark.
Oh Cixi, if only you were here.

Inweer's voice was soft, as though he had already conceded the argument. “The bright bestows long life.”

“At a price,” Sen Ni responded. “We will let the Entirety decide.” She fixed him with what she hoped was a firm but not challenging look. “These are new times, Master Inweer.” And with that she had not only put an end to debate, she had set a new protocol for addressing a Tarig.

Venn spoke up again. “Even with all these measures, it may not be enough to save the Entire.”

Inweer turned to Sen Ni. “Nothing in the realm of being lasts forever. Even the Rose dies a natural death in time. So then, does the Entire.”