‘Thank Rin for that,’ said Isiq quickly.
‘He is not thanking Rin. I am told he fell very hard for that creature, and struggles with despair.’ She smiled darkly. ‘Perhaps that is why he does not mind entangling his fate with my own.’
‘He has joined the cause, then?’
‘Not officially, not as King of Simja. But yes, I believe he has. And he knows more of how I shall achieve my aims than any other monarch alive.’
‘Then I am sure he knows more than I do. Will you tell me, Empress?’
‘Of course not. But here’s our rum.’
The servant was advancing with a silver tray, which he placed on the table. Maisa poured, then handed Isiq a glass. He smiled his thanks (the good stuff, if she only knew how he needed it) but the Empress did not smile in return. They stood silent until the door closed again.
‘Forgive me,’ said Isiq. ‘My loyalty has yet to be sufficiently tested, isn’t that so?’
‘Correct. I am impatient to confide in you, as it happens — but I have conquered nothing in my exile if not impatience. No one learns my plans until they prove themselves, and you are not yet on par with those freebooters out there, gobbling clams on the balconies.’
He bowed his head. He deserved this much censure, it was true.
‘Tell me, Isiq: has Magad kept up the gardens in Etherhorde? Do the flying foxes still roost in the silk trees?’
‘I have heard that they do.’
‘And the arch of roses still shades the Pilgrims’ Esplanade?’
Isiq hesitated, then shook his head. ‘No, Empress. The arch collapsed under its own weight, five or six years ago.’
She looked stricken. He tried to imagine her as a young girl, arms spread wide, running the length of that bee-busy tunnel of flame. But the girl his mind was showing him was Thasha, always Thasha. He cleared his throat.
‘May I at least know if your plans have gone beyond the theoretical?’
Maisa nodded slowly. ‘Yes, you may know that much. They have gone far beyond it — to a point from which there is no return.’
Nothing could have pleased him more.
‘I will be blunt, Isiq,’ she said. ‘I do need a tool. If you will not be that tool I expect my campaign to fall to pieces. It is not blind obedience I ask for. But you may be certain that I wish to use you, terribly and cruelly, in the pursuit of a better world.’
‘And how can I prove myself worthy of your confidence?’
The Empress gazed at him sternly. There was a resolve in her that put his own suddenly to shame. ‘To begin with,’ she said, ‘you can marry me.’
With that she threw back her rum.
13
Pazel’s leg grew worse in their first hours in Ularamyth. He took to bed, much to everyone’s relief, but the pain did not abate. The selk doctors frowned and whispered: the spittle of the flame troll had burned deep into his flesh, and even penetrated the bone. To fight it they had to probe deeply themselves, extracting tiny particles of filth and sand, cutting the dead flesh away. For Pazel the ordeal was very strange. He was in agony; at times he could not keep from screaming aloud. And yet somehow the pain was a distant thing. He observed his own suffering as though from a mountaintop, where a part of him remained at peace. Was it the magic of Ularamyth, or had the selk given him some rare draught that divided body from mind?
The next stage of his recovery was terrible, however. Chills and fevers raced through him, and his wounded leg became too heavy to move. He slept, but in his dreams he saw the Swarm of Night moving among the clouds over Alifros: huge and hideous. Where its shadow passed over the land, colours faded, growing things turned sickly, backs bent with weariness and care. And the Swarm grew larger even as he watched.
Then a morning came when he woke to the sound of shutters opening, and sunlight bathed his face. Neeps was at the window, dressed in fine new clothes, a boy prince on holiday. When Pazel sat up he turned, beaming, then rushed to Pazel’s side.
‘Well, mate, you look like you recognize me, and that’s an improvement. How’s that blary leg?’
‘Fine. Marvellous, actually. What do you mean, recognize you?’
Neeps said that in Pazel’s delirium he would wake but appear not to see anyone, or to know where he was. ‘You were peaceful, fortunately — no mad capers like Felthrup. And the selk told me that faraway look was a good sign. They said it meant you were busy, fighting back to strength.’
‘They were right,’ said Pazel, kicking away the bedclothes. ‘Is there anything to eat? I’m famished.’
‘You should be,’ said Neeps. ‘Four days you’ve lain in that bed. There’s food in the common room — if you’re sure that leg is steady.’
‘Steady!’ Pazel laughed and sprang to his feet. ‘I feel as if I could run.’
‘Try it and I’ll smack you,’ said Thasha from the doorway.
She was dressed with simple elegance, like Neeps, and her golden hair was braided in a style he had never seen before. She came to him slowly, eyes thoughtful and serene. Pazel could feel her health when he embraced her.
Neeps looked away, instantly unsettled. ‘She wouldn’t budge from your side,’ he said stiffly. ‘We were thinking of tying her to a tree.’
Thasha stared hard at Neeps a moment. Then she flung an arm around his neck and pulled him close, and kissed both boys’ foreheads until they laughed and squirmed.
When Pazel had dressed they stepped out into the sunny courtyard. The white dog Shilu rose to greet them, but there was no one else about. Neeps handed Pazel a bowl of rice and vegetables, and Pazel attacked it, not bothering to take a seat at the table.
‘Where is everyone?’ he asked between mouthfuls.
‘Exploring,’ said Neeps, ‘except for Hercol and Ramachni, who will be studying the Nilstone and discussing the Swarm with the elders. And Cayer Vispek, of course. He’ll be crouched in some little room, praying or contemplating death.’
‘Neeps!’ cried Thasha.
‘I’m not blary exaggerating. The man even makes Neda uncomfortable, and she half-worships him. Sorry, mate, but it’s true. And if you ask me, it’s real work to be unhappy in this place. It’s been just four days, but I feel as if I’ve rested four
‘It’s the food,’ said Thasha, ‘and the water, and the air. It’s richer, somehow.’ She looked around. ‘That’s strange. Bolutu and Lunja were here a moment ago. I wonder why they ran off so quickly.’
‘Because we’re here,’ said Neeps, ‘and soon enough we’ll all wake up and find ourselves back on some stony trail, cold and damp and surrounded by wolves. Finish eating, piglet; there’s glory awaiting.’
Pazel finished, and they walked out into Ularamyth with Shilu at their heels. Thasha and Neeps had not done much exploring (Pazel suspected that they had both been watching him night and day, but they had seen something of the immediate area. The township was called Thehel Urred, and tiny though it was, it brimmed with hidden gardens and waterways and strange alleys tucked just out of sight. They showed Pazel a fountain where marble cranes strutted in glittering spray; a woken tortoise who dozed beneath a brysorwood tree, mumbling in his sleep; a pool from which a water spirit was said to emerge in the hour before dawn; a hedge maze where Bolutu had gotten lost chasing beetles and dragonflies, until Big Skip went in after him, unwinding a string.
The selk stopped them often, always with good cheer. They gave the youths small cups of wine or cider, and
