through, the revelation hit her like a hammer blow. Che dropped to her own knees, staring at the old woman. The Mantis leader — priestess? the unfamiliar word came into her mind — was scrabbling at the muddy, bone-littered ground in front of the idol, trying to claw some distance between herself and the shuddering grey stain in the air. Her eyes were wide.
Give me your power.
Che heard the imperious command, and she thought of the old saying, Servants of the Green, Masters of the Grey, and how the Moth-kinden had always commanded, and the Mantids obeyed.
The old woman was well clear of the idol now, and the ghost flowed into its vacant frame, its trailing edges boiling and dissolving into the surrounding air.
'Che?' said someone, and she blinked down from the supernatural to the mundane to see Thalric and his comrade staring up at her.
What can he think? But she was too far removed from any world that Thalric might know. He would only see the Mantis-kinden backing off from her as though she was on fire, as though she was sacred. She held out a hand to him, and somewhere in the gesture it turned from an offer of help to a plea for it. She felt the world swimming, her eyes drawn relentlessly back to the ghost of Achaeos hanging within the idol as though it was caught on the bars.
Thalric and Osgan were crawling towards her, trying to avoid notice. The Mantids had no time for them any more. They watched only their leader and she watched Achaeos.
Within the prison of the idol, the grey smudge waxed and grew, forming shapes — hands, features. Che waited for him, waited to recognize those blank eyes, the sharp features. I set you free, she thought. Please, be free.
It was not working. The ghost billowed and surged within the prison of the canes, but she could see that this was not enough. She heard that same harsh voice again, this time almost spitting the words. Is this all? How many years and how many deaths have led to this? Has all your duty and reverence and labour been to give birth only to this nothing?
The old woman wailed, hiding her head, and if there were words there, Che could not catch them. The other Mantis-kinden were slipping away into the trees and the water, as if unwilling to witness the torment of their leader.
You wretched wasters of power! the ghost continued. You traitors to your past! There is nothing here, nothing! Betrayers of your kinden and your heritage! There was no trace in that raging voice of the man she had once known, and Che thought, He is going mad, tied to me, tied to this world. I do not know him any more.
The tirade continued, showing no sign that it might ever stop, and Che wanted to rush forward, to shout into the face of the idol that he should stop it, that it was doing no good — but she managed one step only. The sheer fury that rippled through the ghost's substance was too much for her. She had not known that he was capable of it. Perhaps it had taken death to bring it out of him.
'Che, we have to go,' said Thalric, sounding distant, and she knew from his tone that this was not the first time he had said it. He was barely audible over the ghost's rantings, but of course he could hear none of that. Only Che herself and the Mantis woman could. But I am not the only one, and I am not insane, and this is real. Something in her, some echo of her past, wailed that this was all impossible, but she found in herself an acceptance that the world was made of these things, that the world worked by such means. It was clear to her now, in the way that the workings of a crossbow or a lock would never again be.
'We must go,' she agreed, and turned to find Thalric holding up his friend, who was pale and shaking. He met Che's eyes: two harrowed gazes, each with its load of untranslatable grief. Then she too put an arm around Osgan, keeping clear of the crude bandages, and the two of them helped guide him off into the swamp towards the river. The going was hard enough to limit any further words until the boats found them and they became separated once again.
They sat in silence in their room within the Collegiate embassy, one standing by the window, the other one by the door: Accius and Malius, the Vekken ambassadors.
They had been invited to join the hunt, of course: they had ignored the invitation. Instead this had seemed to them a golden opportunity for a little quiet, some space to think without the Collegiates crowding them with their constant noise.
We have watched for long enough, Malius decided. The King would expect some action from us by now.
The King does not know the conditions here, Accius thought darkly.
We are merely being distracted. No doubt that is the intent.
Agreed. Accius watched Khanaphir servants outside as they tended the gardens of the Place of Honoured Foreigners. This city is irrelevant.
Primitive, agreed Malius. There is no advantage to be secured for Collegium here. Even ten thousand Khanaphir soldiers could not stand for more than a moment against aVekken army. Bows and spears! In the voice of the mind, derision was so much purer and more satisfying.
So why are they here? Accius posed the riddle they had been slowly pondering for days.
Their scholars are almost certainly nothing more than that, Malius admitted reluctantly. They may have other standing orders that have yet to come into effect, but we have witnessed nothing about them to suggest that their claims hide anything more devious.
They are the typical irrelevant chaff with which Collegium always hides its true purpose, Accius agreed. Which purpose-
Which purpose is therefore embodied in the person of their ambassador. No doubt we were intended to watch the academics, or the city itself — the Collegiate contempt for the abilities of others, once again. Malius loaded the thought with particular emotion. It was their one pastime, really, this disparagement of their enemies. It enlivened the silence, and it even made the noise more bearable.
Her movements have been mysterious. She has been evading scrutiny and she has been impossible to track, Accius thought. She has an agenda that even her foolish compatriots do not realize. She is the real reason they are here, and they can look at all the stones and rocks they want. That much is clear.
That much is clear, Malius echoed. And we must now unearth her purpose. It is obviously something more than we had thought.
The King was wise to send us on this mission.
Indeed. We have seen where she visits most, who she associates with.
And that skirmish in the courtyard, Accius recalled. How swift she was to disarm it, and then spending so long speaking to the Wasp.
It is clear they have come here, so far from the Lowlands, because it is a neutral city where arrangements can be made.
They both paused then. Their joint conclusion, inexorable, was sufficiently dire for neither to wish it voiced. At last it was Malius who finished the thought.
Collegium has no stomach for another war, therefore they seek an alliance with the Wasp Empire.
Neither needed to state the obvious consequence of that. Where else could the combined eyes of such an alliance turn, save to Vek?
We must prevent this, at all costs, Accius decided. We must create disharmony between our enemies.
There is only one way, Malius concluded for him. Their secrecy shall
