Surrender to the Will of the Night (61 page)

That did not improve Hecht’s temper. “Early enough for me to have time to get myself together?”

“Good idea.”

Heris and Delari began arguing softly. Hecht paid no attention. He gathered his family round, suddenly fearful that this might be his last chance to enjoy them all together.

Anna wanted them to be alone.

But the children were determined to get a share of him, too. Hecht was touched that the bonds of family included Lila, now.

He led everyone to a lounging room where the furnishings were low divans and large pillows. Delari called it his orgy room, though nothing of the sort had happened there in recent centuries. It was a comfortable place to relax with loved ones.

Hecht took the opportunity to catch up on all their lives, devouring the trivia. What seemed so dull when it was there every minute, all around, was a treasure from afar.

Pella claimed he was going crazy. That he had to get out. And not to any stupid studies at Gray Friars or down under the Chiaro Palace. And, damnit! Yes! He did know that actually doing what he wanted might well land him in the clutches of somebody who would use him to gain leverage on the Commander of the Righteous. It was not fair! He never asked for this!

“That’s life, boy. If you’re lucky, you’ll have problems for another hundred years.”

Lila was still too shy to chatter about herself. Vali, however, had lost all her reticence. Hard to believe that she was the quiet little girl who had attached herself to him and Pinkus in Sonsa.

She said, “Pella is right. Gray Friars is really, really boring. Especially if you’re a girl. But afterward we get to go to school with Grandpa Delari. That’s fun.”

“Doing what?”

“Learning the Construct. I’m not so good with it and Pella doesn’t pay attention but Lila is like a genius. She already knows how to …”

Hecht finally cut her off. Despite having no private time with Anna he was pleased to have these rare hours with his unexpected family.

***

“Time to head out, little brother.” Heris shook Hecht’s shoulder again.

He had fallen asleep with Anna and the children piled around him. Only Anna and Vali stirred as he extricated himself.

Heris whispered, “It’ll be dawn in an hour. We need to go.”

He whispered, “I’m not sure I can take that again.”

“No option, Piper.”

“I know.” He scratched his left wrist.

Anna wakened. She got her feet under her, got up, leaned against Hecht groggily. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“I wish I didn’t, too.”

“There’s so much to talk about.”

“I know. If everything goes right I could be back in a few days.” He scratched again. Then started, raised his hand, and stared.

Anna clung. Vali joined her. Lila and Pella went on snoring. Anna said, “I’ll pray that it goes that well. But I don’t have much hope.”

Nor did he.

“Piper! Come on. We’re running out of time.”

***

“Heris, I need to see Grandfather first.”

“He isn’t awake. There isn’t time. Come on.”

“Then you need to tell him when you get back. There’s something coming. Something dark. My amulet started nagging me a few minutes ago. It hasn’t done that for so long that I thought it had stopped working.”

“Let’s hope nobody knows you’re here. I like Turking and Felske.” The implication being that those two could be the only sources of leaks should news of his presence get out. And that the price they would pay would be dear.

There was a harsh soul inside a harsh woman, Heris. Very harsh.

Hecht did not remind her that their enemies had darker and sneakier espionage resources. Though he imagined that it did take human eyes to look inside Muniero Delari’s house.

The harsh soul promised, “I’ll see him as soon as I deliver you. If something is headed our way he’ll deal with it.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“Piper, enough! Let’s go.”

***

Hecht found this transition no easier than the last. And it could have been worse had he not been distracted by concerns about Anna, the children, and Principaté Delari.

Their situation was sure to grow riskier by the day.

***

Titus Consent rousted Hecht out. Hecht congratulated himself on having unbarred his door before he collapsed, too exhausted to dwell on nightmares seen during the transition. Consent said, “Time to get up, boss. Work to do. Man, you look like shit warmed over. What’s the deal?”

“Nightmares. Bad news nightmares, Titus. I think they mean that there are some Night things around here and they’re looking for me.”

“Sent by someone? Or just local spooks?”

Hecht shrugged. “One, the other, or both. Doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll look into it.” Consent’s tone suggested deep skepticism. “There have been no reports. And the villa is warded at double and triple depth.”

“Was it exorcised before we moved in?” He was taking the pretense too far but could not stop.

Consent said, “That might be it. We’ll move you to a room far away from this one.”

“That’s all right. I like this one.”

“Despite the nightmares? You’re getting scary, boss. I wish you’d stop.”

Hecht understood perfectly. He had done a lot, lately, that Titus considered troubling.

“Titus, I don’t do it on purpose.”

Consent seemed to understand what he meant.

***

Hecht told his staff, “You’ve all been worried about me lately. I point out that I’m still doing my job. And the Empress and I expect you to go on doing yours. Which will be whatever she tells us it is. I don’t expect you to be happy about that. I’m not. But the discretion I enjoy will be limited because she’s right here with us. I
can
argue with her. She tolerates that. And lets me change her mind occasionally. But that’s only when there aren’t any witnesses. If someone is watching she won’t budge to save her own life.”

Clej Sedlakova asked, “What’s your point?”

“That, going forward, we won’t have the freedom of action we’re used to. We’ll operate according to the Empress’s mood because she plans to stay right here with us.”

Rumble rumble. Somebody growled, “That’ll draw unfriendlies like shit draws flies.”

Hecht nodded. Having trouble staying awake.

Sedlakova quickly established himself as the loudest voice. “Boss, we need to get a lot stronger before we go racing around in open country. I’d bet they could have a force ten times the size of ours up here by tomorrow. If they’re really in a mood to be nasty.”

Consent observed, “That all depends on one man. Serenity.”

Hecht asked, “You suggesting we go on the defensive, Clej?” Disinclined to mention Heris’s suggestion that Serenity might field a mob twenty thousand strong.

“We aren’t known for that, I admit.”

“But that’s your recommendation. And I agree. Much as I’d like to go whooping through the hills and vales toward Brothe, setting fires and ruining Patriarchal vineyards. That’s why I have all those scouts out. They’re looking for a place to make a showing if we’re forced to. That’s why you’re all supposed to be thinking about ways we can protect ourselves while we wait for our friends to show up.” Twenty thousand. He could not get that number out of his head.

“Will she be patient?”

“She’s impulsive but she isn’t stupid. She’ll listen.”

Drago Prosek asked, “You think we can count on the Grand Duke to answer her summons?”

The key question, perhaps.

“I do. For reasons to do with his character rather than his notion of an obligation to the Grail Throne.”

Consent inquired, “So now we buy time?”

“Aggressively. As aggressively as we dare. Making Serenity focus on our trivial force while the real storm gathers behind him.” Twenty thousand.

Prosek said, “That’ll be easy. All we need to do is what they did with Sublime, back when. Destroy his family stuff. Whatever he sucks money out of.”

Sedlakova did not like that. Neither did he like Serenity. But he could never be comfortable while hearing a Patriarch accused of corruption, even obliquely.

“Come on, Clej. Even you got to admit …”

“Never mind,” Hecht snapped.

Kait Rhuk, who had just arrived, settled next to Hecht. “I found the place. It’s perfect. I’ve got people moving up there already. Hey! You all right, boss? You don’t look so good.”

Hecht muttered something about the pain from his wound. Then he fell asleep right there, in the middle of the meeting.

He dreamed unpleasant dreams.

35. Realm of the Gods: Triangulation

Heris guessed right, first try. The entire brain trust of the divine liberation expedition had assembled in the Aelen Kofer tavern on the waterfront to refine nebulous plans by lubricating them liberally. Cloven Februaren started barking the second she stepped inside. “Where the hell have you been, girl?”

The Ninth Unknown was not a happy man. There had been no mischief whatsoever for him to get up to for however long he had been confined to the Realm of the Gods.

With no clear proof Heris could not be sure, but after her several passages to and fro, she suspected the time differential between the middle world and the Realm of the Gods was inconstant. There might be a predictable cycle, though time would never pass slower here than it did at home.

She told Februaren, “There were things going on in the real world, Double Great. None of them happy.” She offered a synopsis. The old man plucked additional meaning from between her words.

He and Ferris Renfrow immediately insisted, “I have to get back there.”

Heris said, “I’m only an amateur observer but I thought the great horse of chaos was galloping along just fine without either one of you yanking on the reins.”

Neither was in a mood to be chided. Each wanted to drag her off for a private interview.

The ascendant, who never spoke, had a glint in his eye, too.

Heris ignored them all. “Iron Eyes. I came up with an arsenal of the kind of weaponry we ran into at the Bas … At Ferris Renfrow’s palace. Plenty enough to give us the edge with these Instrumentalities. I need Aelen Kofer help getting them here, though.”

“Indeed?” Sourly. Then, “Really?” with more enthusiasm, as some stray thought wandered through his head.

Which Heris identified in one.

The Aelen Kofer were the artisans of the gods. How hard could it be for them to improve the new weapons? Dramatically?

Might not be the best plan, letting them get intimate with such deadly but essentially simple tools, the efficiency of which was limited only by the difficulties inherent in casting them.

Clever artificers like the Aelen Kofer would be quick to find alloys, casting and cooling processes, and spells that would help them create bigger, lighter, more accurate, and more deadly falcons. Especially when they had the temporal advantage of working under the hill.

Februaren and Renfrow went on fussing about their obligations in the middle world.

“So go!” Heris growled. “Asgrimmur and I can manage things here.”

It turned out that there would be serious problems. The Aelen Kofer could not reach the Krulik and Sneigon works directly. There would be a lot of walking the middle world needed. Though, Heris discovered belatedly, that would not require the whole dwarf race to go traipsing across the Grail Empire in a loud, gaudy mob. One skilled magic-using dwarf could do the walking and opening of the way. Which, evidently, was an escape skill many Aelen Kofer learned early.

Of course, a gang would be needed to haul the weapons away. But they, and their goats, could make the journey in lazy stages on the other side. The dwarves never mentioned their rune-laden standing stones.

“Double Great! Before you bail out on me. You heard what we’ve been talking about.”

“No. I wasn’t listening.”

“Listen now. I have a cache of weapons over there with nobody guarding them. I didn’t think about that when I asked … for them. You understand me?”

The old man sighed and nodded. “Give me the gruesome details. I’ll take care of it.” Like Pella, she reflected, when he was asked to do a chore. Totally put-upon.

Cloven Februaren was an eternal adolescent. Incredibly powerful, a genius — with all the acquired personal skills of a spoiled fourteen-year-old.

With all that talent and genius he had no need to be mature.

***

Cloven Februaren and Ferris Renfrow went away. The Aelen Kofer followed, leaving only a skeleton crew. In time, Heris had only the ascendant and three sour, elderly dwarf women for company. And, occasionally, a young mer who called herself Philleas Pescadore. The mer thought that was funny but never explained. She shifted shape and left the water, stark naked and achingly beautiful, only when Asgrimmur was around.

Heris knew she was imagining actions and motives because the fact was, Philleas needed Asgrimmur to translate in order to communicate.

Philleas was both intensely curious and deeply naive about the world above the waterline. For her that world was more mythical than was hers to humanity. Only a few mer in any generation, most female and young, could change and pass for human, briefly. Naked young women who dared not venture far from the sea would not see the best of land dwellers.

Philleas was doubly ignorant. Her entire world had been the harbor. The dangers she knew were shark and kraken.

Heris found the girl more irritating than interesting. She never stopped asking questions.

Out of the blue, a few days after the old men left, Asgrimmur announced, “I’m not interested in Philleas the way you think. She isn’t interested in me that way, either.”

“What?” Taken completely off guard.

They were on the quay. The ascendant wore his most manly man form. He stared through the portal at the brilliance of the middle world.

The gateway was open so Heris could go if she must.

“Her people have found the survivors of another pod out in the Andorayan Sea. They mean to merge pods by uniting Philleas and Kurlas, a mer her age in the other pod. That should be interesting. Philleas has picked up a lot of romantic notions from us. Especially from the old man. Meanwhile, the sea pod has spent a century hugging the warm water round a slow power leak. They’ll have turned quite strange.”