Jin Li Tam
They laid Winters out on a bed that had been stripped down to a simple cotton sheet, and as Lynnae set to tending the girl, Jin Li Tam pulled aside with Garyt.
There were white paths upon his painted cheeks from the tears he’d cried, and Winters’s blood dried upon his hands and uniform. Jin could read the despair upon him and understood it at once.
He loves her. She doubted that he knew he did, but she could read it plainly upon him, and she remembered the ache of that kind of love, remembered its own genesis between her and Rudolfo in what seemed a lifetime ago. She put a hand on his arm. “She will be fine,” she said. “Scarred but fine.”
He nodded, and when their eyes met she saw more than his anguish; she also saw his rage. “Why did she choose this? Any of a hundred of us would have taken the knife in her place.”
Jin looked at the girl. She was moving in and out of awareness now that the kallacaine was taking hold, and her body flinched at Lynnae’s sponge as the woman cleaned her wounds and applied her ointments and powders. “I think she saw it was her place to do this for her people, to show both the faithful and the unfaithful among them.”
He nodded and looked to the door, then back to her. “There is much work to do,” he said. “There will be people gathering at dawn to leave with her.”
Yes. But how many? Jin was uncertain, but despite Winters’s choice she suspected the numbers who actually chose to leave their hearth and home to follow the girl would be low. But she also suspected, just as strongly, that it would only be a beginning. What they had witnessed this night would stay with her people, and over time, more would trickle out as the reality of what they saw settled into their hearts.
She looked to the young Machtvolk guard. “What will you do?”
His answer did not surprise her. “I will stay as long as I can,” he said. “I will be her eyes and ears here.”
She nodded. “I would have you bear word to Aedric if you see him.” Now she chose her words carefully. “Tell him that our stay here is finished and to prepare his men for travel.”
“Aye, Lady. I will tell him.”
She thought again for a moment. “Bid Charles and Isaak the same. They would be wise to leave by the way they came.”
He nodded again. “Aye.”
She studied the man. “And the Ninefold Forest is ever your friend, Garyt. You bear my grace and thus Rudolfo’s as well. If you have need, get word to him.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you, Lady. I fear that what we need may be out of his reach to give us.” He laid a hand upon the door latch and paused. “Bid my queen good health and safe journey,” he said.
Then, he slipped from the room.
He’d been gone less than five minutes before the sounds of third alarm grew beyond their window. It started in the distance and moved through the forest, a growing clamor that soon enveloped the lodge as she heard the running footfalls of soldier and servant alike. Jin went to the window and watched as squads formed up in the yard. She watched a handful of men drink down phials of blood magick and warble out of sight as they ran eastward.
There was a knock upon the door, and Jin turned from the window. “Come in,” she said.
The door opened, and Ria stepped into the room, her face washed in rage and worry. Behind her, still in his furs from the walk back, stood Regent Eliz Xhum. “How is she?”
The concern in the woman’s voice angered Jin, but she forced that anger from her voice, though her words were still frosted. “She will be fine.” She nodded toward the window. “What is happening?”
Ria scowled. “Our perimeters have been breached. And our-”
But she was cut off by a booming voice out of the east that shook the glass and raised the hair on Jin’s arms and neck.
“I come for Winteria bat Mardic, true Queen of the Marsh,” the voice cried out. “Where is she?”
She knew that voice, though she did not know the magicks that propelled it; there was a clarity and power in it beyond the blood-distilled voice magicks she was familiar with. She saw light moving toward them now and watched the Machtvolk scramble toward it. She heard the cries and grunts of those who found what they sought and then saw the light grow until it took the shape of a man.
His run slowed to a walk as he entered the clearing, and Jin blinked as she recognized the voice, though the man it belonged to looked nothing like the boy she’d last seen so many months before.
Neb?
But not the Neb she’d last seen the night of Jakob’s birth. He burned with a hot, white light now from his toes to the tips of his hair, and his eyes were the color of the moon as he strode roaring into the clearing. His silver robe caught the wind and flowed out behind him as he went; and as Ria’s men closed in, he swung his fists like clubs and scattered them like kindling. When the invisible wall of blood-magicked scouts pressed in, he tossed them into the trees, where they thrashed and fell.
By the time they were on their feet, he stood upon the porch. “I have come for Winteria bat Mardic,” he bellowed out again, and then he was in the lodge, roaring down the hallways.
Jin Li Tam looked to the girl. Her eyes were open now at a voice she also recognized, and she wrestled against Lynnae’s ministering hands in an effort to sit up. “Neb?”
Jin glanced at Ria and saw her face grow cold at the name. Her voice was low when she spoke. “Lord Xhum,” she said, “I think it would be best to remove you to a remote location.”
The regent smiled. “Nonsense. Let the Abomination come. The faithful have nothing to fear from him.”
The sound of fighting in the hallway intensified, and then suddenly, the regent and Ria were pushed aside as the room filled with light.
Up close, Jin could see now that a fine sheen of silver flowed over the young man, rippling and moving with him at each step, giving off a heat of its own. He pushed himself into the room, oblivious to all but the girl stretched out upon the bed. He went to her and fell to his knees, a single sob racking him as he did.
He laid his hands upon her stomach, his fingers outstretched over her wounded skin. “Be whole,” he whispered.
The silver shifted on his hands, and veins of it appeared on the surface of her skin as her body stiffened. Slowly, before their eyes, the wounds began to close, and as they did, he looked up to finally take notice of the room. His eyes locked with Jin’s, and what she saw in them chilled her, not because she’d never seen such rage-she had seen such many times-but because they were alien eyes now, inhuman and distant as stars. “Who did this cutting?”
Xhum stepped forward. “I did, Abomination.”
Neb was on his feet now and turning toward the man.
He intends to kill him. And a part of her knew that she should let him, that much of the evil that had come and that would yet come traveled with this man. But another part heard the words of Ire Li Tam, heard the passion and conviction of them, and could not risk that perhaps the woman was right, that the true end to this lay in Jin accompanying the man and waiting for her grandfather’s golden bird.
As Neb closed on the regent, she stepped between them and raised her hands to place them against the young man’s chest. She felt the heat of the quicksilver skin he wore and felt it yield at first and then resist her touch. “Nebios,” she said.
Neb stopped and seemed to notice her for the first time. “Lady Tam,” he said. “Stand aside.”
“Yes, Great Mother,” Eliz Xhum said. “Let him pass. I do not fear death at his hands.”
Jin shook her head. “No, Neb. She took the cuts willingly.”
Neb looked confused for a moment, and Xhum spoke into that confusion. “Yes, Abomination, it is true. She asked for my knife upon her skin. It was such soft skin, too, and her cries of pain were beautiful, were they not?”
Neb pushed at Jin, and she felt the strength of him but forced her feet to stand their ground. “No,” she said again in a quiet voice.
“I think,” the regent said, “you should kill me for what I’ve done. Your demon’s bargain in the Beneath Places should let you easily rip me limb from limb. Do it for what I’ve done to your woman. For the two hand servants whose heads decorate pikes in the lemon orchard outside my palace gates. For the dreams my Watcher has burned and the staff my high priest has taken.” He chuckled. “Or do it for the vessel that my Third Desert Brigade will soon dismantle and bury, the heads they’ll collect in that hidden place.” The chuckle became a laugh. “Kill me for whatever reason you choose, but know that in the end, the Child of Great Promise is upon the earth and the throne of the Crimson Empress is established. You and your kind are obsolete now, and the tower shall remain closed to you.”
Jin felt Neb pushing against her, and for a moment she thought he would simply move her to the side and fall upon the man. But something stirred behind him, and she saw Winters rising, still naked, scarred, and half covered in blood. The girl took three steps and laid her hand upon Neb’s shoulder.
“Do not listen to him, Nebios Homeseeker,” she said. “Do not let him distract you from your work with the pettiness of this transitory sojourn.” She paused, her voice shaking. “I am dreaming again, and I have seen our home. I have seen us singing upon the tower, and I have watched you raise high the staff of Y’Zir and boil the lunar seas with life. You are Homeseeker and Home-Sower.”
He turned to her, and Jin saw as he did that his eyes for just a moment were the brown she remembered them to be. But it was only for a moment. Then, a loud and metallic voice from outside shook the windows yet again.
“Abomination,” the Watcher cried, “I hold your final dream and bid you come take it from me.”
Neb looked to Winters, and Jin saw the pained look that crossed his face. And it was easy to read the root of it, because at the metal man’s words, the girl’s eyes had faltered.
Jin felt the ice in her stomach, moving out and into her spine. “It is a ruse, Neb. Do not-”
But already, the young man was pushing past them and out into hallway. Already, he built speed and knocked easily aside those who stood in his way.
Jin looked first to Winters and saw the fear that paled her face. Then, she looked to the regent and saw the wide smile that grew upon his. When their eyes met, the smile widened even farther, and Jin had to look away so that he would not read the hatred in her own.
Outside, she heard the tremendous crash of metal colliding with metal, and Jin Li Tam staggered when the ground shook from the force of it.
Charles
The screaming had been over for nearly an hour when the shouting began. Charles heard it and suspected half the Named Lands heard it as well.
They’d been moving more slowly, Charles’s muscles protesting a hard day’s walk. He’d tried to block out the screaming by thinking about everything he’d learned. The thought of plague spiders harvested from Windwir terrified him. He suspected that those ruins were rife with the leftovers from the Seven Cacophonic Deaths that had brought down the city. He was amazed when he thought of how fortunate Petronus’s gravedigger army had been. Digging in the ground there was bound to uncover all manner of evil.
He’d set himself to compiling an inventory of other possible threats and made good headway on it until the shouting. This was a man’s voice, bellowing after Winteria, and it was louder even than the voice magicks.
Aedric whistled them to a stop. They were quiet for a moment, until the voice started up again. “I’d swear that was Nebios,” he said.
Charles remembered meeting Isaak’s Homeseeker in passing, thinking him to be an odd choice of messianic figure. He’d been in the Churning Wastes, and as far as he knew, the boy remained there.
They started moving again, and when the second voice-this one metallic-roared out into the night he stopped again and replayed the words.
I hold your final dream and bid you come take it from me.
The resounding crash that soon followed shook the ground. Charles felt Aedric’s hand upon his shoulder.
“I don’t know what’s afoot,” the first captain said, “but it’s not safe here. We need to get you back to your cave.”
They pressed on amid the shouting and the sounds of battle, moving north along the base of the Dragon’s Spine. When the chaos to the south shifted in their direction, Aedric sped them up or slowed them down. Charles heard the sound of trees falling and from time to time saw the snow shaken from them and stirred up from the forest floor.
How can a man be any match for that machine? The question perplexed him. He could think of no magick-neither blood nor earth-that could make this boy Nebios a match for such as the Watcher. And yet he seemed to hold his own. The scientist in him wished he could see the battle, and there were moments when he thought he saw glimpses of moonlight flashing on silver and bursts of white, fast-moving light, but it was impossible to distinguish one form from the other, and they moved with such speed that it was far easier to see the aftermath of where they’d been.
They were moving now through the recently dispersed gathering, and the Gypsy Scouts fanned out, still magicked, as Charles took on the semblance of a lone Machtvolk traveler. He could see the door ahead, though there was no guard apparent. But others gathered here-a crowd of Machtvolk with frightened faces, some carrying children and others with hand wagons and packs. Charles couldn’t gauge the numbers, but they appeared to be growing as others joined them from the surrounding forest.
He approached the door and felt Aedric’s hand once again. The Gypsy Scout’s voice was a whisper. “You would do well to leave this place, old man, by whatever way you came. I am recommending to my queen that we do the same. We don’t have the strength to take whatever last dream this Watcher holds. Perhaps the boy does, but I’d not wager on it.”
As if in answer, the sounds of battle shifted, and Charles saw them break from the forest-an ancient metal man that moved with fluid grace and a being of silver light. They were surrounded by Machtvolk soldiers who fell like paper men when they found themselves within the fray. The rolling, tumbling, kicking mass moved toward them, and then a metal blow connected and the silver being was tossed easily to land in their midst.
Neb was on his feet quickly, his face fierce and his teeth bared. He glanced at Charles and then launched himself back across the clearing to collide with the Watcher. Charles tried to measure the man’s speed even as he tried to comprehend the skin of white light that enwrapped him, but he couldn’t, and he left off trying as a hand settled upon his shoulder. He looked up and saw Garyt, covered in blood, standing beside him.
“I need you back inside the cave,” he said. “You need to talk some sense into them.”
Charles saw now that the door was cracked open, and behind it he saw the dim glow of amber jeweled eyes. He looked next to the gathering crowd and saw that a few of them stared, squinting into the shadows to see what manner of creature might lurk behind that door.
“We’re away to our queen,” Aedric whispered. “Heed me and flee this place with your metal men while the way is open.”
Charles nodded and let Garyt lead him by the arm until they pushed through the door and closed it after them.
Isaak and his cousin stepped back, both venting steam at the same time. Charles was less able to read the older model but saw the signs of distress in Isaak’s posture.
“Father,” Isaak said, “it is agreeable to see you. Did you find the missing pages?”
Charles shook his head. “I did not.” But I found other things. Still, he did not say so.
The older mechoservitor’s eyes shuttered. “Then it falls to us to help the Homeseeker take them from our wayward cousin.”
Outside, Charles could still hear the roaring and crashing as the fight moved through the forest. And he could hear the cries of Marshers when they were unintentionally included in that conflict. “You are no match for him,” he said. “You were designed for scholarly pursuit.”
Isaak’s tone was somber. “Before that, we were designed to bear the spell. We were made as weapons.”
The shock of those words forced his eyes to Isaak’s. He can’t mean that. Charles had seen Petronus’s notes, the scraps of evidence pointing toward limited deployment of the spell to defend against invasion, but the way in which Isaak said it made his stomach clench. He smelled hot metal and looked for his words carefully. “Whatever your dream is worth, Isaak, it is not worth that.”
Isaak shook his head. “No, Father. Never that. And our predecessor was designed with the same protections as we were. Our kind is built to survive the spell.”
“Then what would you do?”
Isaak said nothing but exchanged a glance with the other mechoservitor. “We have calculated seventeen possible strategies between us.”
Charles blinked, suddenly realizing that whatever sense Garyt hoped he’d convey to them, he would ultimately not be successful. They were not waiting for his permission. But what then?
“I wanted to see you first,” Isaak said. “We calculate an eighty-three percent chance of one or both of us being non functional at the conclusion of this matter.” His memory and processing scrolls spun as steam released from the grate in his back. “The odds are higher for me given the condition of my power source. I have accessed your papers on sunstone technology and have familiarized myself with the various stages of failure.”
Charles found himself surprised by the sob that shook him. He suddenly saw Isaak stretched out, broken and dead, upon his table as he labored to bring him back, the sharp smell of grease and ozone flooding his nostrils, and the hollow resolve as he scavenged parts from his other children to save this one in particular. “You cannot go out there, Isaak.”
“I must,” he said. “The antiphon is ready, and time is of the essence. But I have words for you first.”
Charles shook his head. “I do not want your words. I am Charles, arch-engineer of the Androfrancine School of Mechanics and Technology. I command you to remain with me, Isaak. Acknowledge my command.”
Isaak placed a metal hand upon his shoulder. “The dream commands me, Father. My love for you seeks your blessing that I might follow it.”
My love for you. Charles felt the words moving through him, weakening his knees and shaking him to the core of his soul. He felt the tears now, and he resisted them. “You do not need my blessing.”
“I crave it. But I also crave your safety, Father. Though it is not a son’s place to command a father, I would bid you stay hidden among the Machtvolk until you return to Rudolfo’s care. Your knowledge and skills are necessary for the library to prosper.”
Charles shook his head again. “Do not do this, Isaak.”
Hot water leaked from a tear duct that Charles himself had carefully re-created from Rufello’s notes. “I must follow the dream, or the light will be lost.”
“Then do so without my blessing,” Charles said, hearing the bitterness in his voice.
“I will,” he said. “I must.”
Isaak’s other hand was up now, both of them settling over Charles’s shoulders as he gathered the old man into his arms. The old man was reminded of the embrace he’d seen Rudolfo give the metal man before they’d entered the Beneath Places. He let Isaak pull him in and finally raised his own arms to return the embrace briefly.
“Come back to me when you are finished,” he whispered.
“I will do my utmost, Father.”
Charles nodded and sniffed, suddenly embarrassed at the emotion he knew must paint his face. He looked to Garyt and saw the young Machtvolk look away, also uncomfortable.
Then the door was open and the two mechoservitors were speeding across the snow, sure-footed, as they raced to join their Homeseeker.
Charles watched them go, feeling both powerlessness and pride as they followed their faith in the moon’s whispered song. They did not need his blessing, not any more than Isaak had needed Charles to install the dream scroll in him. But regardless, just as he’d needed to give his metal son that dream, he also needed to relinquish him to serve it.
Because love offered asks its blessings and love returned offers those blessings freely.
“Bless you,” he said quietly. Then Charles turned away and buried his face in his hands so that Garyt would not have to see him weep.
Winters
Winters packed quickly, her mind still foggy from the kallacaine she no longer needed. Her encounter with Neb had left her shaken.
No, she realized. Terrified. The first time she’d seen him, when she was tied to the table and beneath Xhum’s knife, he’d seemed more himself, though he was taller, more hollow-eyed than she’d remembered. And she’d not yet gotten used to the length of his hair. But at least she’d recognized him.
What she’d seen when he burst into her room was not the boy she once kissed in Rudolfo’s Whymer Maze. She’d not recognized him at all but for the voice. He had been something terrifying and ancient-a man wrapped in light and power with rage in his eyes. She had no doubt he would have killed the regent if she and Jin hadn’t interceded.
Maybe I should have let him.
She shook away the thought and tried to focus on the packing. She’d already dressed for rugged weather. They would go due southeast as quickly as they could. She’d pondered taking her people through the Beneath Places, but she still held out hope that the system of underground passages was unknown to the Y’Zirites and the Machtvolk. Better to keep it secret for as long as possible.
And the rest of my people need to see our exodus. She had purchased that with her blood, along with those people who joined her. Those who chose the convenient lie would die in the land of their sorrow. She and those who followed her would follow the Homeseeker and return to the birthright of Shadrus.
Neb. The boy she’d led into her camp two years ago, the young man who’d stood with her at Hanric’s Rest, had been gentle though old for his years. But the man she’d seen today had no gentleness in him. When he’d laid his hands upon her and healed her wounds, even that act had a fierceness about it. And even now, she heard the thunderous crashing of him as he fought the Watcher in the forests. At first, she’d tried to pursue him, to persuade him to flee. But Jin had caught her arm, and the look in her eye had been enough to stop Winters.
It hadn’t taken much. And she understood why now: Neb-the Homeseeker her people had longed for these two millennia-frightened her. He had become something unexpected. So in the end, she let him go and trusted that he would find his way to the new home they were promised, that he would make a path that she and her people could follow. And whatever magicks fueled him now, she hoped they would somehow help him wrest from the Watcher that which had been cut from her people’s book so that the tower could be opened.
But her hopes felt flat now.
No, she realized, it was not hope that had become flat. She knew he would do what must be done.
It was the love. He’d burst into her room, with his wild eyes and unruly hair, and she’d seen nothing in him familiar or beloved remaining from the time before he left for the Churning Wastes.
She sighed.
When the regent had requested audience with Jin shortly after Neb raced bellowing from the lodge, Winters had returned to her own room to pack. People were already gathering, she’d been told, at the door that had once led to her throne room and living quarters. She would join them and lead them.
She took another look around the room. She’d packed everything that might be useful, fitting it into a scout pack that one of Aedric’s men had provided. She had socks and spare clothes, paper and pencil, and last, she strapped on her knife belt and took comfort in the blades upon her hips. She’d learned the dance with Jin thinking that she might take back her people by the blade, but in the end, it was someone else’s knife that gave her those people who were truly hers.
There was a knock at the door, and before she could speak, it opened. Jin stood framed in lamplight, and Winters forced a smile.
“May I come in?”
Winters nodded, and the tall woman slipped into the room. She held Jakob in one arm, nestled to her shoulder, as she pushed the door closed behind her. Jin nodded to the pack that sat on the bed. “You’re ready, then?”
“I am.” Winters frowned. “They’re still fighting.”
“They are. They’re moving northeast, though. You’ll want to steer clear of them.”
She’s not coming with me. Winters wasn’t sure why she’d assumed that the woman would, but she had. “You’re staying, then?”
Trouble passed through Jin’s eyes, lingering only for a moment. She shook her head. “I’m not staying either. Can we sit?”
Winters went to the bed and moved the pack, sitting where it had been. Jin took the desk chair, turning it with her free hand so that it faced Winters. Then, she sat slowly, careful not to wake Jakob.
After they were both sitting, Jin met Winters’s eyes. “We’ve had our secrets, you and I,” she said, “and I think it’s time for us to trust.” Winters opened her mouth to answer, but Jin continued. “The regent has asked me to bring Jakob back with him to Y’Zir. He is citing tonight’s event as one of several indicating that it is not safe in the Named Lands for his Great Mother and Child of Promise.”
Winters felt her eyes widening. “You’re going with him?”
Jin nodded slowly. “Three nights ago, a woman claiming to be my sister appeared in my room and told me that Eliz Xhum would bid me come with him and that I should go. She told me that my grandfather’s golden bird would find me and tell me why.”
“And you believe her?”
“I don’t know what to believe,” she said. “But I’ve seen miracles I never imagined I would see, and for whatever reason, my family is swept up in this-both my family of birth and my family of choice. Some paths can’t be escaped from,” she said, “and some shouldn’t be.” She glanced at Jakob as she spoke. “I believe he will be safe there. And my eyes and ears could be useful to us.” She paused. “I think my father was more right than he knew: War is coming, and this unknown empire is a superior force.”
Especially with the discord and devastation sown here. The southern nations were in disarray, recovering from assassinations, civil wars, the loss of their economic and moral center with the loss of the Androfrancines.
Jin continued. “I am sending Aedric and his men with you. I’ve not told him yet that I’m not coming. He will be angry. And Rudolfo will be even more angry, but I bid you tell him for me that I will see Jakob safely back to his care, and if I can, I will return to him as well.” Here, her words failed and her eyes fled from Winters. The woman’s mouth pursed for a moment, and then her eyes returned. “Tell him that I love him and that he bears my grace above all others but the son we have made.”
Winters nodded, stunned at the finality she heard beneath the woman’s words. She doesn’t think she’s coming back. “I will tell him.”
Jin inclined her head. “Thank you.” She stood. “The scouts will go with you and keep you safe. The regent assures me that his promise will be honored, that you and those who wish to leave are free to do so.”
Winters stood, too, suddenly awkward in this moment, feeling the weight of a good-bye she did not want to give. Instead, she stepped toward the woman, stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed her on the cheek. Then, she kissed the top of Jakob’s head. “You have been mother and sister to me, Lady Tam. And friend.”
Jin looked surprised at the affection, and Winters felt the heat of her blush as it moved out from her ears and face and down her neck. “Rudolfo would say you are a formidable woman, Winteria bat Mardic. I value the friendship dark circumstances granted us.” She smiled, reached out a hand and touched the girl’s cheek. “I hope your boy finds his way to the home you seek and that he takes you there soon.”
Winters wanted to open her mouth and protest, to say he was no longer her boy, to confess that he had changed, that she had changed and that because of those changes, love had fled. But she did not. The time for all secrets, it seemed, had not passed.
So she watched and said nothing as Jin Li Tam inclined her head one final time and left the room. After she’d gone, Winters wiped from her eyes the unwelcome tears that had sprung up there.
Then Winteria bat Mardic strapped on her pack and left to find her boots, her coat, her people and her path toward home.