recognised from Altapasaeda, many more were new to me; all were bizarre and terrifying.
It was a relief when we eventually broke through to the district of the palace — at least until I got my first proper look at it. Nestled deep in the crook of the mountains, its monolithic grandeur was the final move in Pasaeda's game of architectural one-upmanship.
The palace struck an unlikely compromise between splendour and defence. Somehow, it managed to be half plaster and glass confectionary, half unassailable fortress. In contrast to the rest of the city, it was also a riot of garish colour. Every window was stained glass, every roof a mosaic, every wall illuminated with bright curlicues or murals or clutters of interlocking geometry.
It should have been chaotic — and it was. Yet it didn't seem to matter that nothing matched when every column and balustrade was a masterpiece in its own right. The palace crept — in layers of roof and archway and balcony, through endless juts of tower and spire and cupola — up the sheer face of the cliffs, like an ornate beetle clambering to safety.
All told, it made the palace in Altapasaeda look like a dung-collector's cottage. I'd never wanted to steal anything so badly in my life.
As we drew close, however, the fortress aspect of its character grew more apparent, and by the time we entered the palace grounds I felt more intimidated than impressed. We were ushered through a gatehouse in the outermost layer of defences, across a courtyard as big as many a Castovalian village, through another gatehouse, down a wide street bordered by tiers of exquisite garden, into yet another gatehouse in yet another set of walls into yet another courtyard — where Gailus left us, drifting off towards the stables with a jovial 'Goodbye!' — and up a flight of marble stairs, through enormous double doors… until I found myself, at last, within the palace itself.
By then, I'd had my fill of marvels. My head ached to match my feet, and I barely glanced at the colossal hall we'd ended up in. I chose to stare at the floor instead, which was mercifully plain, at least in comparison with everything else.
It seemed too much to ask that someone would offer us lunch, or at least a cup of wine. Minutes passed, punctuated with low-whispered conversations between Ludovoco and the palace staff. Just as I was sure I'd topple over, he ushered us on towards a small, draped archway.
Before we could pass through, however, a voice called, 'There you are!'
It was Gailus — and I couldn't escape the feeling that he'd been waiting for this moment, though I hadn't seen him. He trotted over at a leisurely pace, to Ludovoco's obvious frustration.
'Off to the reception hall?' Gailus asked. 'Why don't I take over from here?'
Ludovoco tensed. 'Take over?'
'I'm a friend of young Alvantes's father, as you're no doubt aware. Since I agreed to hold my tongue on affairs of state, mightn't it be reasonable to ask for a minute to discuss affairs of family?'
'Alvantes is in my custody,' said Ludovoco.
'He must pose quite a threat if you daren't leave him alone for even a minute.'
'Not so far as I know.'
'Or else be determined to escape?'
'There are… protocols.'
'One minute, Commander, is all I ask. Your men can stay close to ensure our friend the guard-captain does nothing uncharacteristically treasonous.'
Ludovoco froze. It was clear he wasn't used to being talked to this way. I suspected a part of his brain was already busy plotting harsh reprisals.
The rest of him, however, seemed paralysed by the unfamiliar prospect of conceding defeat. Eventually, he tipped his head. Without a word, he led us through the curtain, down one long corridor and another, and off into a much smaller room, which I took from its sparse furnishings to be some sort of antechamber.
'Wait here,' he told Alvantes. Gailus he carefully ignored. He motioned his men to one side of the room and disappeared through the drape that hung across the room's only other exit.
Scowling at Ludovoco's men, Gailus beckoned Alvantes and me towards the farther corner. 'With all due respect to the Crown Guard,' he intoned loudly, 'I'm sure your father would prefer his private affairs to stay that way.' When we were as far away from our black-clad escorts as the space allowed, he dropped his voice and added, 'We don't have long.'
In that moment, his manner was unrecognisable. Gone was the cheerful, buffoonish figure who'd ridden beside us through Pasaeda.
'How is my father?' asked Alvantes. He seemed just as thrown by Gailus's changed tone as I was.
'Anxious for news. He thought you might try to come here. One of our men on the walls was ordered to send signal if there was any sign of you.'
'Our men?'
'The faction of which your father is a part — as I am also. He thought it would be more discreet if I met you in his place.'
'I don't know anything about factions,' Alvantes said, sounding unexpectedly defensive. 'I've come here in service to the King.'
'We're all in service to the King. But lately, it grows harder to know how best to serve. His Highness feels himself assailed by enemies… and not without reason. The reports of Moaradrid's death have done nothing but fan the flames in the far north.'
'I heard such talk in Aspira Nero.'
'No doubt. The Bastard Prince. A joke that has long since ceased to be funny.'
There was that name again. What was going on in the far north that had everyone so nervous? As far as I knew, Moaradrid's rebellion had begun with him. I'd assumed until now that it had ended in much the same way.
Any last hint of levity left Gailus's voice as he asked, 'Are the rumours true? About Prince Panchetto?'
Alvantes looked uncomfortable. 'The news I have should reach the King's ear before any other.'
Gailus nodded. 'Then they are. Your commitment to duty does you credit, Lunto — but be careful. Enduring so much has made His Highness… unpredictable.'
It was obvious he had more to say, but Ludovoco chose that moment to reappear from behind the door hanging. He looked at Gailus and Alvantes with unconcealed suspicion, and to Alvantes said, 'Go through. His Highness will arrive shortly.'
'Well… your father will be glad to hear you're well,' said Gailus. He'd unblinkingly resumed his previous character, with the ease of someone pulling on a favourite overgarment. 'Pass on my regards to the King, won't you?'
Alvantes replied to Gailus with a short bow, which he noticeably failed to extend to Ludovoco. Then Alvantes led the way through the narrow doorway Ludovoco had left and returned by, and I followed close on his heels.
The room beyond was large and hexagonal, built around a raised stage at its centre that echoed its shape. Opposite where we'd entered, a throne of elaborately engraved, gold-inlaid wood perched on a stepped dais twice the height of the platform. Along the other five walls, high-backed benches were arrayed. There was ample space for a hundred people, so seating a mere dozen men and a couple of elderly women left them conspicuously empty. All of those present were finely dressed, at least, more than enough so to show up our own travel-stained garb.
Alvantes took a seat on the bench to our left, and I sat beside him. As though our arrival were a signal, discordant pipe music blared immediately from behind another drape in the wall to the left of the throne. I couldn't help noticing how the three men waiting nearby jerked to their feet and edged away.
The music died abruptly. The curtain swept back. In the space beyond was nothing but darkness.
Then two figures danced out with rapid steps and leaped onto the stage. They wore long, open robes over loose shirts and trousers. Alarmingly, their faces were covered with cloth masks, blank apart from narrow slits for eyes and mouth. Masks and clothing both were patterned with interlocking diamonds, black and white endlessly alternating. Any two diamonds appeared identical, yet together the effect was chaotic, seeming to shift whether the pair moved or not. Worse, their costumes were contrastingly chequered, as though each was a distorted reflection of the other. Between their disguises and the bagginess of their clothing, it was impossible even to guess at their sex.
I knew I'd never seen them before, or anyone remotely like them. Yet I couldn't escape a sense of familiarity.
