Lamentation

the line of his face.

He’d had a professor of human studies at the Francine School named Gath. “Show me the line of a man’s face,” Gath would say to his classroom, spanning the students with his finger, “and I will tell you the intentions of his heart.” Petronus stayed late after class three afternoons per week and asked that old professor every question he could think of.

It had never failed him, and he knew exactly what the line of the boy’s face meant.

The intention of his heart was to kill Sethbert, and as careless as he was studying Sethbert’s circumstances, Petronus was fairly certain that his intentions wouldn’t matter once the guards saw what he was doing.

Petronus shouted and raced beneath the canopy.

Jin Li Tam

Jin Li Tam rode across the prairie ocean and watched the metal man beside her. He’d been silent most of the day, his eyes fluttering as the lids flashed up and down. He was drumming his long, slender metal fingers on the saddle.

Every time she looked at him, she remembered his tone when he’d told her he knew how Sethbert destroyed Windwir. Somehow, Sethbert had used this mechoservitor to bring down a city and end an era where knowledge of the past was carefully preserved… and protected.

She shuddered. “What are you doing, Isaak?”

His fingers and eyelids stopped, and he looked over at her. “I am ciphering, Lady. I’m calculating the supplies and surface are cnd eyea necessary to rebuild the Androfrancine Library.”

She was impressed. “How can you possibly do that?”

“I’ve spent a number of years logging expeditionary expense ledgers and cataloging the financial reports of various holdings,” he answered. “Once I’m finished, I will modify my numbers based on the economic growth patterns between now and the day the reports were written.” A gout of steam from his back. “These will merely be initial inquiries,” Isaak said. “I will have to present Lord Rudolfo with something far more accurate.”

She smiled at the metal man. “You really mean to do this, don’t you?”

He turned to her. “Of course I do. I must.”

Jin Li Tam chuckled. “It’s a giant task.”

“It is,” he said, “but a pebble shall fell a giant and a small river make a canyon over time.” She recognized the quote from the Whymer Bible. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact passage-and she certainly couldn’t find it if you pushed that heavy, square book into her hands.

“Hopefully you’ll have help.”

“I’m sure Lord Rudolfo will free my brothers.” He paused and blinked. “But of course, there will be other Androfrancines that were not in Windwir when I-when it fell.” He looked away.

Others, she thought. Others. The expeditions, the scattered schools, missions and abbeys. They would be out there, and soon-if not already-they would hear about the fall of Windwir.

“What do you calculate the library holdings outside Windwir to be?” she asked.

“Ten percent. The mechoservitors-all of us-account for another thirty between us.”

“Gods,” she whispered. She thought about all that was lost, but it was quickly burned out with what they could save. Forty percent of that massive library would still be a significant trove of knowledge. This was what Rudolfo had chosen when faced with the end of an age. And he’d made this decision, sending them north to the Ninefold Forest, before he made his final decision about going to war.

That was a rare thing. A man who thought of what to guard before he thought of what to kill. She smiled at this. Of course, this Rudolfo seemed to be a man who could do both at the same time.

And she smiled at that, as well.

“I am hoping you will help, as well, Lady Tam.”

Now it was her turn to blink. He was clever, this metal man. “I see.”

“Your father’s bank holds the Androfrancine accounts,” Isaak said. “I’m sure that Lord Rudolfo intends to combine some form of Entrolusian reparations supplemented by Androfrancine holdings in order to fund this venture. It far exceeds the Ninefold Forest Houses’ economic capacity.”

“I’m certain my father will be interested in this endeavor of Rudolfo’s.”

He certainly would be. She wouldn’t be surprised at all if there were a bird waiting for her already, encouraging an alliance with the Gypsy King to keep House Li Tam connected with what little knowledge of the First World remained.

She wasn’t sure she minded that at all.

Neb

When the summons arrived, Neb decided to use it as an opportunity to see exactly what he was up against. He listened to the Overseer’s chiding, all the while counting the guards, counting the steps he’d need to take and planning his route to and from the Overseer’s assassination.

Sethbert was well guarded, especially since yesterday’s defeat at the hands of the Wandering Army. They’d at least doubled the contingent of honor guard that took up positions within view of the Overseer and his creaking wooden throne. And there had to be Delta scouts nearby, though Neb couldn’t see them.

Magicked or not, he doubted he’d survive the attempt. And he wasn’t even sure he’d be successful. The Overseer was easily three times his size, and Neb had nothing but his rage to guide him. Beyond a few fistfights with the other boys, he’d never raised his hands in violence… much less raised a knife.

The woman’s words came back to him: Sethbert has destroyed Windwir. He felt the anger stir inside him, and he summoned a memory of his father, Brother Hebda, with his arm around him sitting in the park. He reminded himself of how that would never happen again because of this man, because of what he’d done.

Even if it cost his own life, Neb had to go through with it. He could think of nothing else to do.

He heard shouting, and looked up.

An old man was running toward him, shouting a name he did not recognize.

“Del,” the old man said, “thank the gods I’ve finally found you.” He looked vaguely familiar; Neb couldn’t place it.

He was a large man-not nearly the size of Sethbert, but broad shouldered and powerfully built. He had to be approaching seventy, but he moved like he was younger. His white beard stood out from his face, long and unruly, and beneath his straw hat, wisps of white hair poked crazily out. His eyes were set in laugh lines and crow’s-feet, and before Neb could react, he’d been swept into the man’s embrace, squeezed and lifted by those massive arms. Putting him down, the old man gave him a stern look. “I told you to wait for me.”

Neb looked at him, not sure what to do or say.

Sethbert cleared his voice. “You know this boy?”

The old man looked surprised, then turned. “Yes, certainly. Humble apologies for interrupting, Lord-I was overcome with relief.”

Sethbert squinted at him, too, and Neb wondered if the old man seemed familiar to him as well. “You’re the old man my scouts took by the river.”

He nodded. “Yes, Lord. We were returning to Windwir when the city…” He let the words trail off. “I’d been looking for survivors when-” he patted the boy’s shoulder and Neb felt the strength in the large hand that settled on him “-when Del here must’ve wandered off.”

Neb opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. What was this crazy old man doing?

Sethbert looked at him then, his eyes cold and calculating, his lips pursed in thought. “I was under the impression that he had seen the city fall. My medicos believe some trauma or another has stolen his voice.”

The old man nodded. “Aye,” he said. “But we only arrived after.” His voice lowered. “His mother passed some days ago; he’s not spoken since.” Then he leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s never been altogether right if you know what I mean, Lord.”

Sethbert’s eyes narrowed. “What is his relationship to you?”

The old man blinked. “He’s my grandson. His father was an Androfrancine. They wanted to put him into their orphans’ school but I wouldn’t allow it.” He met Sethbert’s eyes. “I don’t hold to their secrets and their smugness. His mother and I raised him.”