ancient lettering that none of them had ever seen in a book, let alone understood.
Jeza made tweaks to the devices according to Lim’s notes on other creatures, moving the second of them about two armspans further down the workbench, so they were no longer opposite each other. She altered the frequencies and the measurements on the sixteen extra dials they had built into it, mainly by trial and error.
The relic was activated by placing a brass cylinder the size of her arm into the slot at the back, a process that was not immune to Coren’s crude innuendo. Diggsy switched on the second device and they all watched as a web of purple light spread out across the exoskeleton and hovered in the air above. The little crackles of energy never ceased to impress her; they signified ancient knowledge being reused, a line that spanned tens of thousands of years. No one spoke during the process, they were too focused.
Exactly as Lim’s theory described, a second replica of the breastplate began to fade into existence alongside. It finally materialized whole, in its own separate web of purple light, and when they were quite sure the process had finished, Jeza shut off one device, Diggsy the other, and soon all that was left was a dull hum, the faint smell of charred leather and a little smoke as if someone had blown out a match.
Jeza and Coren moved over to the cloned piece and inspected it, waiting for the thin, pale-blue smoke to dissipate. Coren prodded it, first with a metal rod to see if it was genuine, if it was physically there and not some illusion; then when he was more confident, he jabbed it with his finger. ‘Still warm,’ he said, and waited a moment longer while Diggsy and Pilli dragged the two
Eventually, Coren picked up the original breastplate in one hand and the newly ‘translated’ one in his other. The others watched him, waiting. He moved them this way and that and wafted them around in the air, smiling. ‘Same light weight, same feel.’
‘Guess Lim’s tricks never fail to work,’ Diggsy said.
‘Is this what we want to show the military?’ Coren asked. He placed the breastplates back down while everyone turned to Jeza. They waited for her to speak, a new phenomenon for her, and she had to admit not entirely unpleasant.
‘We need to move our
‘Go on. .’ Diggsy urged.
‘Now we know we can do this,’ she continued, ‘we should try to take things further, to show them what we think a more complete piece of soldier’s armour might look like. I think we should try our best to show the finished item. First we write to that albino commander. Get him here, see if he’s interested in the concept. Now’s the time. Later when we have refined this and he sees what we can sell him, he’ll have no trouble opening the Empire’s coffers.’
‘Now you’re talking,’ Coren said, and slapped her on the back.
Diggsy gave her a warm smile and placed his arm around her in that casual, cool way of his, and she couldn’t help but notice Pilli turning away now to fiddle with something on the workbench.
FIVE
She was back in Villjamur, back with Rika.
The warm sunlight falling through her opulent curtains was enough to tell her that this wasn’t quite real, though she didn’t know why. Bright coloured wall hangings and bed sheets, all the books she could wish for, trinkets and toys littered the floor. Everything seemed so pristine. Too pristine. As ever, there was frantic activity outside their bedroom door, which she took to be something to do with her father or his entourage.
Sometimes, when she heard such noises, she would close her eyes and hope that he’d come in — if just for a moment — to see how she and her sister were getting on, what they were up to, how they were feeling. It rarely happened, though. And yet. . now she thought of it, Rika wasn’t actually there. Her bed was a mess, so she had obviously been around recently, but she couldn’t see her anywhere. Eir called out; no reply came. She was utterly alone.
Sighing, Eir stretched fully, pushed herself up, out of bed, and walked to the windows, her legs feeling heavy. The whole movement seemed such an effort. This was the second time she realized something wasn’t right: her black hair was much shorter than before.
Pulling back the curtains, light flooded the room, and she squinted to see the rooftops of Villjamur. Always mesmerizing, always awe-inspiring, she could look down on that city a thousand times and never become complacent with its complex, labyrinthine layout. Each time she looked over the many levels of the city, over the winding rows and dreamlike spires sometimes lost in the mist, her imagination would flare happily.
A garuda flew by, drifting in an arc over the city — no, it had turned and was heading towards her. The bird- soldier glided in, his vast wings extended, his bronze armour glimmering in the morning sunlight. It swooped to her window and, with a thud, gripped the window frame to one side.
He had a panicked look on his face. He tried to sign something to her with his one free hand but she couldn’t understand him.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, trying to climb up to open the window.
But it wasn’t any good.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked again. ‘What’s wrong?’
A jab to her ribs lifted her from the dream. She opened her eyes in a cold, dim chamber, with the wind rattling something outside and a man to her right.
To be fair, she didn’t mind the man at all. Randur looked back at her with a soft gaze, his dark hair falling in front of his face. He was propped up on one elbow, wearing only a thin cream tunic which was a size too large for his lithe frame.
‘You were dreaming,’ he told her.
Slowly she realized she was now awake, and curled in towards him. ‘I. . It felt like that, even though I was asleep,’ she said. ‘It felt like I
‘You’re a lucky thing,’ he said. ‘If you know you’re dreaming, I’d have made myself imagine I was lying somewhere a great deal warmer than this ice palace.’
‘You could always put more clothes on,’ she replied, rubbing her eyes.
‘Nah, I don’t like it.’ He waved a hand. ‘I’m from the islands. We sleep with little on — preferably nothing. It’s much more comfortable that way.’
‘You were always bed-hopping on the islands.’
‘True, but I’m a one-woman man now.’ He laid back down and moved in to kiss her shoulder. When he held his lips there, his warm breath was delightfully sensual on her skin. It seemed a world away from her dream. ‘You should know that.’
His routine never grew old to her, even though they had been together for quite some time. The playful words always drew her out of her reflective moods. These days his charm was one of the few things that brought a smile to her lips, and she knew all too well how rare it was to be happy in this city.
‘What were you dreaming about?’ he asked.
She gave him a summary, dwelling on the garuda at the end. ‘The garuda was trying to tell me something, yet couldn’t. It appeared urgent, as if he had a message for me.’
‘Perhaps he was telling you to put more logs on the fire,’ Randur replied, and wafted a hand in the general direction of the smouldering ashes in the grate.
She slapped his chest. ‘I’m serious. It felt. . wrong somehow. It was very disturbing.’
She looked across to him; he was now lying face down, his head in the pillow. With two fingers she brushed his hair from his face. ‘What will you do today?’
‘Same as usual. Lounge around, wait for a decision to be made. Maybe head out into the city, see what’s happening there. Might see if I can get some decent clothes.’
It was frustrating for them both, she had to admit, not to have much direction now. For all the adventures
