Heartland

do to change that?'

'That's a very good question,' I said. 'I seem to remember you saying how you hated unanswerable questions. This time, though, I do know the answer to your question. In fact, let's not bother with that one, since I know the answer. Let's ask a different one instead.' I nodded at the others. 'Do you speak for all of them, when I ask you, Chief Librarian of the Imprisoned Sisters, would you rather wait until dawn to find out if the promises made to you are going to be kept, or would you rather make your own choice? Would you rather find your own path to freedom?'

Her mouth opened and closed several times before words came out. 'You're a lunatic,' she said. 'Your mind has been shattered. You have lost too much blood, and don't have enough sense to die.'

'Probably,' I said as I held up the last card. 'But I've got one card left.'

'The Valet of Cups? What can that possibly signify?'

I spelled it out for her. 'I have the spirit of the Hierarch in my head. A lot of his arcane knowledge, too. I was supposed to pass on what is in my head to whoever was Crowned. You can have all of it instead, in exchange for some assistance.'

Vivienne was too stunned to say anything, and I heard a buzz of voices from the other sisters. Before Vivienne could tell them to be quiet, or even find her voice to admonish them, Nuriye spoke the all-important words. The ones that told me the answer to my question.

'What sort of assistance?'

'I need to crash the party. Before dawn.'

'That answer is a non-answer. You must offer us some specifics if we are to properly judge the value of what you offer.'

I went down the list. 'I need a flight circle. From the roof of this building. Targeted to the roof wherever they are doing the ceremony.' I laughed. 'I only made Journeyman, remember. I don't even know where the ritual takes place.'

'Sacre-C?ur,' Nuriye said. 'On the hill.'

Of course. I should have known. It was in the background during my visitation to the apartment where Marielle and I had spent New Year's Day. The vision that was both memory and precognition, brought on by the etheric storm at Mont-Saint-Michel.

Vivienne whirled on the other woman, who stood her ground. 'What?' she said with a shrug. 'In the shape he is in? He wouldn't make it past the first rank. Telling him gives him nothing of value.' Nuriye raised her eyebrow at me. 'But the flight circle is a matter of conveyance, a way of easing your journey. Hardly a worthy trade for the Hierarch's knowledge.'

'True,' I admitted.

'If you only made Journeyman, I doubt you have the skill to inscribe one properly; plus, you need someone to anchor it for you, to keep the target aligned.'

'Yes,' I said, pretending that I knew the details of how the circle worked. It coincided with my plan anyway.

'But how do you suggest we help you with that? We cannot leave the Archives.' Even as she asked the question, I could tell Nuriye got it. She knew what I was suggesting.

'I guess I'd have to give you the tools to let yourselves out, wouldn't I?'

Nuriye laughed as Vivienne's face grew dark with anger. 'You go too far-' she started, but Nuriye cut her off with a stroke of her hand.

'I want to hear what he has to say, sister. He did not come back from the hole the Protector threw him into just to toy with us.' She directed her attention at me. 'But tread carefully, solute frater. We are not caged animals. You cannot taunt us with impunity. Speak your offer plainly.'

'I'll give you what I have in my head in exchange for whatever aid I need, and I acknowledge that part of that assistance will require you to be freed from your duties as keepers of the Archives.'

'You can't release us,' Vivienne ground out. 'Only the Hierarch can do that. And until one is Crowned, there is no one who can release-'

'Not even your father?' I interrupted. The Hierarch may have been the one who could bring down the wards that kept them here, but I was willing to bet that Lafoutain-as Preceptor in charge of the Archives-knew as much as any man could about how the wards were maintained.

Her face went rigid, a mask of frozen emotion. I had just stabbed her, and she was trying to not show how deeply my jab had gone.

'I need to get to the Coronation,' I said, listing the items on my fingers. 'I need to get past the host of Watchers that are, obviously, standing guard to keep soluti fratres such as myself out.'

'True,' Nuriye acknowledged. 'That's two.' She noticed that I was holding the Valet of Cups with two fingers. With two raised, there was one left. 'What's the last thing?'

'A pair of swords,' I said.

'Swords?' she echoed.

I nodded. 'All things must end the way they began. This started with a duel under the bridge five years ago. A duel over a woman. It's going to end the same way.'

'A list of three,' Nuriye said, with a curt nod. 'In exchange for the knowledge of the Hierarch.' She glanced at Vivienne and then at the other sisters. 'We will have to consider your offer. It is a dangerous thing you ask of us, freedom or no.' She returned her gaze to me. 'I am not so stupid to think that the only thing you want is revenge against your rival. If we were to provide you access to the Coronation, we would be acting in opposition to the entire rank. We must consider whether the knowledge of one man is worth the wrath of all his brothers.'

'I said that I would give you everything in my head,' I said. 'I've got more than one Architect up there. The Hierarch, the Visionary, and-' I looked at Vivienne. '-your father.'

It was more than she deserved for what she had done to me, but I was past that now. My terms. Not hers. Not Philippe's. Not Marielle's. This is what I offer you. This is how we embrace the future.

'There is no need to consider this offer. I accept these terms, and the responsibility that comes with them,' she said, and her voice broke.

The wall came down.

XXXIV

It turned out to be more than three things, in the end. Nuriye let it slide. The daughters of Mnemosyne were still getting a deal. In addition to the circle and the swords, I also asked for a corner in which to lie down for a few hours, some medical attention, and a new hand. Antoine was the better swordsman, and even though he was down a hand too, he had had five years to learn how to fight left-handed. If there was going to be a handicap, I wanted it to be in my favor.

I begged off on the transfer of the Architects for a few hours too, even though they were howling in my head. A slender daughter named Lusina brought me to one of the outer offices, and had me lie down on the leather couch in the room. With the lights off in the room, I concentrated on my breathing while she pushed and pulled ley energy through me, knitting bone and repairing flesh. She managed to apply a web of scabrous tissue to cover the wound made by the Spear, and although she couldn't do anything for my missing hand, she accelerated growth in the stump until it was a knot of scar tissue. Good enough.

Finally, she laid her hands on my forehead, quelling the restlessness in the Chorus, and for a little while, I slept.

When I woke, the sky was still dark, occluded with thick clouds. The Chorus, somewhat resigned to the fate in store for certain of their members, responded to my commands. They touched the ley, and felt the swollen frustration of the Akashic Weave. Dawn was only a few hours away, but you'd never know from the ambient light in the sky. The clouds were too thick, there was rain in the air, and the atmosphere around Paris was turgid with denial. The sun was going to break through the cloud cover when it rose, and if there wasn't a proper