The Sleeping Life

Chapter Thirty-One

"Do you think this is what the Emperor of Kole used to look like?" Auri asked, peering down at him—her—himself.

"Maybe," Fallon said, glancing uncomfortably at his sister, then concentrating on sorting gingerly through ivy leaves to find a patch of exposed flesh. "He’d need some kind of template or physical sample to create a human construct."

"Wouldn’t people recognise him?" Kendall asked. "Aren’t there pictures? And he’s on the money!"

"There is a resemblance to the profile," Sukata said, pausing in her own search to study Auri. "I do not think it is the same, though perhaps that is a matter of age. Emperor Corusar was nearly fifty when he gained the throne."

"Knew he was really an old man," Kendall muttered. "Just didn’t realise how old."

Fallon delicately carved a small cross into the back of the wrist of the woman suspended on the wall in front of him. "I think that’s the last one here," he said. "Let’s hurry."

"I’ll open the next room!" Auri said, but thankfully Sukata caught her before she bounded ahead.

"We must remain cautious," Sukata said firmly.

"I—yes, sorry, I know that," Auri said, in Samarin’s too-deep voice. "It’s just…I feel so real. I can touch things, and move things, and you all can hear me. And everything’s sharp with clear edges—I think that part’s this body. It can see and hear much better than I could, and it’s so strong. Did you know he was so strong?"

"That is not surprising with a construct," Sukata said. "He would give himself every advantage."

"Do you think that I’m stronger than you?" Auri asked. "We could arm wrestle later to find out."

"Auri…" Fallon began, then stopped himself. Who could blame his sister for giddy excitement after three years of not-quite-death?

"And you complain about me not being focused," he said instead. "Let’s get the last of these done before Lieutenant Meniar comes looking for us."

Even if they hadn’t been told to hurry, the fact that the four of them had been sent alone to locate all the mages on the eastern half of the sunken garden would have made the urgency entirely clear. Sukata was obviously exhausted, Fallon wasn’t much better, and neither Kendall nor Auri could cast. But there simply wasn’t time to do this with due caution.

Trying to restrain the bounce in her stride, Auri led them at a more decorous pace to the next of the rooms sealed by a stone door, and moved it aside with evident enjoyment.

"This should be the last on our side," Fallon said. "We’re lucky this place has such a simple layout."

"Four in here," Sukata said, and they separated, each sorting through the particularly thick mass of vines for the people underneath, using the flowers as a starting point.

"Think maybe this lot have been here the longest?" Kendall said, wrinkling her nose. "They’re pretty ripe already."

"They’re definitely going to want a bath," Fallon agreed. The vine had obviously been feeding the mages in some way, and elimination had probably been minimal, but this set of captives were particularly ragged and filthy and rank.

"It’s really more hatching butterflies than ripening fruit, though, isn’t it?" Auri chattered on. "And the problem with that symbology is it almost obliges them to be changed, to be transformed. I wonder if they’ll come out of this with wings?"

"Please don’t say that around Lieutenant Meniar," Fallon begged. "He needs an absolute focus on what he wants to happen, not all the things that might."

"That’s exactly the reason everyone stays away from big, Symbolic magic." Auri had already found and marked her mage, and was now checking other lumps, in case there was one not marked by flowers. "I’d bet we’ll be learning about this casting at the Arkathan next year, or…what’s that noise?"

Sukata, who had been puzzling over a particularly overgrown mage, turned her head with a start, then said: "Finish. Now."

Obeying her own command, she dragged ivy down to expose a man’s shoulder and quickly scratched a neat marking with her pointed nails. Fallon hastily scrabbled, found the lower vines were loosest, and scored a man’s knee far deeper than he’d intended. Mouthing a silent apology, he rushed with the others out the door and let Sukata herd them back to the central courtyard, not wasting breath on explanations until they burst into the open.

"The glass constructs are breaking free," Sukata said, but the news clearly came as no surprise to Lord Surclere, who was standing protectively over Duchess Surclere while she rapidly chalked a Sigillic.

"It’s unfortunate this room is all entrances and no doors," Duchess Surclere said. "We have a few minutes, at most. If they get out before we’ve freed the other mages, I’m going to cast a shield." She glanced up as Lieutenant Meniar and Tesin came hurrying in. "I should be able to maintain that long enough for you to finish, Lieutenant, but if we’re under attack I might not be able to activate what I’ve prepared to close off Nameen’s Working. It’s not very power hungry, but we’re running short of casters who are not nearing a danger point. If you hit your limit, I think you might have to coach Kendall through her first Sigillic."

"Darian is finishing the last room," was all Lieutenant Meniar said, while Fallon—and, he noticed, Kendall—tried not to look appalled.

The Lieutenant began rapidly walking around the room, reviewing the several sets of Sigillics that had been prepared, and most particularly those that bracketed each of the four channels filled by the vine’s roots.

"A few months ago I would have run from the thought of casting this," he told Duchess Surclere. "When we’re back in Tyrland, I’m going to do my best to talk you into at least doing a few guest lectures at the Arkathan. You’ve widened my view of magic enormously."

"You’re feeling confident?" the Duchess asked, smiling as Lord Surclere lifted her from her finished Sigillic.

"I’m sick to my stomach and one more set-back from vomiting. But not running yet."

"Then I think we’d best begin," Duchess Surclere said, as a light, rapid step warned them of the only runner at that moment—Darian Faille.

"Complete," she said, and without any further delay Lieutenant Meniar began to power Emperor Corusar’s Sigillic.

Fallon, unsure where to put himself, started when Auri moved him briskly to the wall directly opposite the statue. Kendall and Sukata joined them, while Lord Surclere stood with Duchess Surclere by the shield Sigillic, and Darian Faille, sword in hand, chose the entrance nearest to the penned constructs, with Tesin at her side.

"Can you hear them still?" Fallon whispered to Auri.

"Chip, chip, chip, chip. I can’t tell how the doors are holding up. If they get in here, what do we do?"

"Prevent them from reaching Lieutenant Meniar," Sukata told them. "There is no reason to believe we can’t kill the constructs, but the risk is that they will distract him."

"And all the fruit spoils," Auri said, but thankfully too low for Lieutenant Meniar to possibly have that image enter his intent. Then she added: "That was a different noise."

"Part of one of the doors has given way, I think," Sukata agreed.

The Kellian girl moved so she was standing closer to the central statue, where Lieutenant Meniar was now cutting a deep x across one of his palms with a piece of glass. Letting the blood well freely and drip from his fingers, he made a splattery circle around the statue, crossing all four of the root-filled channels. Then came the critical act of the casting: he took a single leaf of ivy and placed it over the bleeding wound like a bandage, commanding it to make his hand whole. An enormous outflow of power roared away from him, following the ivy roots through the whole of the garden.

"They’re coming," Auri whispered. "Just the little ones, I think."

With a glance at Lieutenant Meniar, Darian Faille stepped out of the room, leaving Tesin standing uncertain. After a moment’s consultation, Lord Surclere put Duchess Surclere on her unshaky feet and strode quickly after his mother, Tesin trotting at his heels. Sukata stayed where she was.

"I thought we were going to use a shield?" Auri said.

"If only the smaller constructs are coming, then we might be able to forego the need for a shield," Sukata replied. Her gaze rested briefly on Kendall, and she added: "It is best to reserve our options."

"I could help," Auri offered eagerly. "I’m very strong."

"We are the second line of defence," Sukata said calmly, but the whole of her body was tense, and she twitched at a ring of steel on glass.

"How long does this stupid spell take to cast?" Kendall asked, shifting from foot to foot in that silence that followed that single, shattering sound.

"Impossible to say," Fallon told her. "Thirty subjects over quite a large area, and—" He couldn’t help but flinch at further noise, and cast a worried glance at Lieutenant Meniar, who was holding his hand directly above his head now, palm turned to the sky.

Sukata whirled and leaped upward—a streak impossible to track until she was on the downward arc, hurling something as she landed. It shattered against the wall, and Tesin, who had been chasing it, reversed course and returned to the corridor, only to reappear a moment later with Lord Surclere and Darian Faille.

"The rest are still trying to get out," Auri said. "Is the casting even progressing?"

"Look at the walls," Tesin said.

A tinge of rust. There were far fewer leaves in the central courtyard, so the shift had probably been more noticeable out in the corridor. All the leaves had dark rims, and even as Fallon peered more closely the colour spread, flushing darker and darker until it seemed the room dripped with blood.

"Sounds like a whole door’s gone now!" Auri gasped, and Lord Surclere gave the Duchess a nod to indicate it was time for the shield.

She turned, but even as she looked toward her Sigillic, Lieutenant Meniar let out a loud gasp, and crumpled in a heap, the now red-black leaf falling to the ground. Immediately, Duchess Surclere limped to the tight cluster of sigils she’d marked on the statue itself, and filled them with power.

"Lots of them coming, fast," Auri said, her hand closing painfully on Fallon’s shoulder.

"And how long is this one going to take?" Kendall asked, but the answer to that was no time at all, as the chained woman, the swirling vortex, and the thing of barbs and teeth swam back into visible existence, only to become painful to look at as the bright chains flared, then shattered. The statue tilted forward.

Duchess Surclere hopped hastily back, stumbled, and was caught by Sukata, who bounded clear. Darian Faille blurred to snatch Lieutenant Meniar out of the throat of a roaring gale. Fallen leaves, pieces of glass, and dropped bits of chalk slid forward to be swallowed by nothingness, and Fallon hastily put his foot on Kendall’s coat before it and its collection of focuses followed.

For the briefest moment, Fallon thought he saw the woman again. The fragment of an Elder Mage, a creation of the gods themselves, tasked to shepherd the world in their stead. She stood tall and free, unmarked by chains or the creeping blight of the Eferum-Get. Possibly she nodded. And then she, too, was gone.

As if a door had slammed shut, all the noise went away. Even, Kendall noticed with immense relief, the endless pulsing of the shield and the too-clever-by-half ivy. No more spell.

Unlike everything lying about loose, and the muggy warmth of the room, the vine hadn’t vanished, but most of its leaves had fallen, and it looked withered and dry.

"Are the bugs still coming?" she asked.

"The casting should have removed much of their motive power," Rennyn said. "But there may be a remnant."

They all listened intently, and then Fallon’s sister said: "I can hear noise, but I don’t think it’s bugs."

"Thirty mages." Lord Surclere crossed to take Rennyn from Sukata.

"Thirty confused, dirty, scared, cross mages," Kendall predicted.

"Hungry, too, I expect," Aurienne said. "And most of them weren’t dressed for the cold, and some didn’t have shoes."

They shared a mutual glance of what a headache, which became very odd for Kendall thanks to the Imperial Smugness' insufferable face getting in the way.

"How is Lieutenant Meniar?" Rennyn asked.

"Breathing," Darian Faille said.

"That was closer to his limit than I care to think about." Rennyn shut her eyes, but seemingly out of relief, not tiredness.

"Look at his hand," the Pest said, and then lifted Lieutenant Meniar’s hand so that they could see the cut he’d given himself, neatly healed, and surrounded by a deep imprint of an ivy leaf.

"Thirty cross mages with leaves for hair," Aurienne said, brightly.

That made Rennyn laugh. "I hope not. As for the other concerns…I am going to attempt to reverse Nameen’s Walk. It’s a very energy-hungry casting, and I don’t understand it enough to change the departure or destination points, but I think I can hold it for the amount of time it apparently took me to walk here in the first place." She glanced up at Captain Faille. "I think it’s the best choice in the circumstances."

All Captain Faille did was nod, but there was no doubt he didn’t like the idea. Not because he didn’t trust Rennyn’s casting, but because she was injured, sick, and a really big spell was guaranteed to lay her out. Though that was probably the exact same reason he didn’t object. Back at Aurai’s Rest there would be all the Sentene mages and the other Kellian to deal with whatever problems came up. The longer they stayed here, the less time and energy could be devoted to making sure Rennyn woke up tomorrow.

"They will find us frightening," Captain Faille said, frankly. "Fallon and Aurienne, do you feel you can act as less unnerving intermediaries?"

"Of course!" Aurienne said, and shot at her brother: "My Kolan’s not that bad."

"Do you wish them brought to the entrance, or here?" Captain Faille asked Rennyn.

"I came out at the entrance, but I think this is the origin point. Perhaps the shield interfered? Anyway, yes, here would be best."

Kendall had never been more pleased not to know any Kolan than when she and Sukata were told to stay and look after Rennyn and Lieutenant Meniar, while everyone else went to herd mages. Since Rennyn simply sat herself before the wall where this Walk was supposedly written down, Kendall turned to the little matter of broken golems. The one Sukata had smashed had vanished, but the south-facing corridor was all over glass.

Months of practice hadn’t made Kendall as strong as Sukata yet, but she had definitely made leaps and bounds in the tidying things with her mind stakes. She swept all the big chunks to one side with a satisfactory clatter, and began work on the shards.

"You will bring back your headache," Sukata said, standing under the arched entrance to the central courtyard.

"Don’t think I could make my head hurt worse than it already is," Kendall said, shrugging. "You just watch—you need to rest."

Sukata produced an uncharacteristically visible frown. "You will make yourself ill," she said.

"I suspect it’s fine, Sukata," Rennyn said, from around the corner. "Come talk to me a moment, Kendall."

Suspicious. Kendall had had a sense all day that she’d missed part of a conversation, but she wasn’t going to show her confusion, walking back to stand, arms folded, over Rennyn,

"Sit down," Rennyn said, and once Kendall had obeyed added cheerfully: "You don’t lack for pigheadedness."

"Thanks heaps." What the Hells had she done to earn a lecture?

"It’s a valuable trait in a Thought Mage. What you don’t seem to have noticed is you made a transition, holding open Nameen’s Walk. There is absolutely no way you could have achieved that without abstract Thought casting."

"What?" Kendall stared from Rennyn to Sukata, then shook her head. "I was just propping the roof up."

"Ideally, your day today would have involved a lot of meditation and carefully controlled exercises. Though I doubt you would have been much impressed by the meditation. On the whole I don’t hold a great deal of concern about you accidentally setting things alight: your control is very good. However, I would prefer you didn’t cast unnecessarily over the next few days while I am busy being unconscious."

Hot all over, Kendall started to speak, threw away a half dozen things she wanted to shout on the subject of important information that should be mentioned sooner, and finally said: "And if you kill yourself with this Nameen’s Walk stunt?"

"Then I have most conveniently written a little manual on how to become a Thought Mage in six simple steps," Rennyn said, and obviously thought herself funny. "Seb can take over your training—he truly is capable of focusing on the practical aspects instead of the theory—but I’d recommend not waiting until you get back to Tyrland before going through the exercises I outlined."

The roaring sound had come back, but it seemed to be all inside Kendall’s head. She glared at the source of her anger, snapped: "Shouldn’t you be concentrating on figuring out that spell?" and went back to clearing away glass. And not thinking about setting things on fire.

Sukata had followed her, but was being all hesitant, so Kendall made herself cool down a little and asked in an even sort of voice: "You knew?"

"I was not told," Sukata said, which meant Kellian hearing.

"And you didn’t tell me because—?"

That made Sukata turn particularly grave. "Because I do not repeat private conversations."

There was no answer to that which wouldn’t make Sukata feel all tied up, so Kendall dropped the point. "It should have been you," she said instead.

"Why?" Sukata started to hold out her hand, then lowered it. "I know I made it seem like we were in competition, that I was angry that you—"

"No you didn’t," Kendall said, sharply. "I never thought you were—well, not for more than five minutes. That’s not how you work. I’ve told you that."

"And avoided me. Stopped talking to me. Wouldn’t meet my eyes."

"That’s because of that stupid Emperor!" Kendall snapped, and then regretted it because she couldn’t just leave it there. "He—he went on at me about how people just go around doing what the Kellian want, and asked what you get out of me and…and…" Kendall had made it worse, and hurried on frantically. "I didn’t believe him, told him he was an idiot. I’m sorry. I didn’t believe him, but I kept remembering what he said. And I couldn’t answer his question. I couldn’t say why you were my friend and…" She hung her head, feeling worse than she ever had in her life because whatever she tried she just seemed to keep hurting Sukata.

And Sukata laughed. Kendall hadn’t even known that she could. It was a strange little muted sound, but definitely a laugh and though Sukata wasn’t smiling when Kendall’s head shot up, her eyes were blazing bright.

"Have you noticed," Sukata said, in her thin, broken voice, "that the best parts of being alive don’t need an explanation?"

Kendall had never been kissed before. She did not know what to do when Sukata bent her head. She felt clumsy and awkward and confused and resentful.

And happy.

"I am so proud of you, Kendall," Sukata said, and squeezed her tight, then kissed her again.

Someone cleared their throat. Kendall hastily let go and turned to find a woman standing watching with an air of patience, as if she’d been there for a while. One of the mages.

She didn’t have leaves for hair—it was braided in an elaborate style, though with strands sticking out all over the place—and dressed in what had once been a very nice dress and now…was not. But that was not the thing that made Kendall struggle not to stare. The deep brown skin of the woman’s cheeks was ever-so-faintly indented by the unmistakeable outline of a leaf, of an entire, interconnected pattern of leaves, as if she was a puzzle put together from ivy pieces.

She talked in Kolan gabble, of course, but didn’t fire up at whatever Sukata said in response, and followed without fuss when Sukata led her to the central courtyard. Kendall was not quite glad about the interruption, but it gave her a moment to try to put what had just happened into some sort of recognisable state. She felt as if she was Rennyn: as likely to fall down as to take the next step.

"Rennyn Claire!" the leafy woman repeated, when Sukata had made introductions, and then when Rennyn indicated the faint carvings on the wall, the name Nameen came up in all the gabble that followed—gabble that grew and grew as Captain Faille and the Pest escorted in four more mages, and Darian Faille and Aurienne brought five more, and left almost right away. Not all of these wanted to talk about Nameen, and one was shouting more than gabbling, and Kendall could see that Rennyn was going to be left with no voice at all if she tried explaining the same things over and over. She’d already moved past croaky on to hoarse.

Remembering she had a coat full of distractions, Kendall handily drew off almost all of the mages by offering the collection of focuses. And then the first woman they’d met, who seemed to be called Maja Keshkant, took charge. She shooed everyone away from Rennyn, and made them stand in line to take a turn scuffling through the collection in Kendall’s coat. She sent Sukata off for water. She examined Lieutenant Meniar, then snaffled his slate and chalk box and cast something on Rennyn to help with her throat.

Maja was Kolan for Magister, and since everyone in the room was an upper-reaches sort of mage, and they were all talking at each other, it was Maja, Maja, Maja all over the place. They sounded like a herd of cranky goats. But, Kendall had to admit, most of them soon shifted to quiet listening, explaining things to the next group of arrivals, and organising a hunt about for any focuses that had been missed among the roots of the vine.

When Sukata came back carrying a lot of water in a segment of golem, one mage figured out a way to smooth the edges of other collected pieces so they had some useable glasses. Another filched all the slates and made detailed sketches of the readable sections of the carving Rennyn had been studying.

"Do you think maybe we should try and talk Herself out of casting this Walk?" Kendall murmured to Sukata, when the Kellian girl had finally been freed of water duty, and Kendall couldn’t find any other way to shut up the argument in her head about whether to take hold of Sukata’s hand. "This lot can cast all the spells we need."

"Look at the Duchess' feet."

Kendall looked, and grimaced. Although Captain Faille had been carrying Rennyn about most of the time, the bottom of the makeshift bandages was dusty-black, and damp in patches. Oozing. Even with all the advantages of a couple of dozen mages, they were still out in the middle of nowhere having to make their supplies from scratch, and were already close to running out of spare shirts.

"We spent all morning building a house for nothing."

"I was not looking forward to sleeping in it."

"I suppose we would have all caught Herself’s cold, too."

"Perhaps." Sukata reached out and took Kendall’s hand, and squeezed it. "She will come through this. She has her own brand of pigheadedness."

"Bah," Kendall said, and squeezed back. The air was decidedly nippy now, but she felt hot all over.

Captain Faille had returned once again, and the mages clustered closest to Rennyn parted like magic to let him through to pick her up. Kendall guessed that he told her that there were no more mages to come, for she nodded briskly, and said something to Maja Keshkant, who promptly clapped her hands together like a teacher bringing a class to order.

"We are to line up in pairs," Sukata translated, as the Kolan woman began speaking. "It is important that we stay as close as possible together, and move briskly. If anyone lags or stumbles, those around must do what they can to keep them moving. It is important to not prolong the casting time."

Darian Faille had Lieutenant Meniar slung over her shoulder. The Pest and his sister-Samarin linked elbows. The more squabbly of the mages reluctantly found someone to hang on to. Tesin, toting the Imperial Smugness' sword, trotted down to play rear guard—and perhaps gee up anyone who started to lag.

Invisible, intangible, loudly there, a tunnel opened. Kendall clutched Sukata’s hand, remembering the headache she’d earned last time, and how that had apparently let her in for accidentally doing all sorts of things. That was probably important not to think about right now, so she kept her head down, and trooped forward with the rest.

It seemed like no time at all before the feeling of a tunnel went away, along with the last trace of late afternoon. They were somewhere dark and cold, and Kendall briefly wondered if Rennyn had managed to send them altogether wrong, but then she turned and saw the lights of Aurai’s Rest. And there came Lieutenant Faral, bounding at the head of a crowd to find Lieutenant Meniar in the confusion and snatch him into her arms.

She must have squeezed him tight, because he woke up with a gasp, and then said: "Keste," in a pleased little voice, before going straight back to sleep.

Rennyn had actually managed to keep her eyes open. Too many people were crowding around her for Kendall to get a proper look, even when they started conjuring little lights, and moving toward the nearest buildings. But she’d got them here, and there would be a warm bath, clean clothes, and probably half a dozen healers to fuss over her. Rennyn would be all right.

She would.