Februaren.
“Well, well.”
Anna asked, “Can I go, now?”
“Certainly. Catch hold of that word and drag it along. That’ll keep any others from sliding in while the door is open. Once you close that, give the word a shove to put it in motion. It’ll drift around and rout out any more lurking things. Lurking! I love that word. It should last twenty minutes. The floating word should, that is.”
Anna followed instructions, refusing to be impressed or intimidated by the unexpected.
The door chunked shut.
“So what do we have?” Hecht asked.
Everyone stared at the flakes. Hecht downed some more coffee. Finally, Delari said, “Bronte Doneto has gone clever on us.”
Heris asked, “Why do you think it was him?”
“Because of the flakes. Any true Night thing would’ve left an egg. In this size, a bead. These were specially created from Night things, then trained by a sorcerer who had the inclination to spend a lot of time shaping them.”
“All that from a couple flakes?”
“All that. I’d guess they represent years of work.”
Heris asked, “How did you know?”
Februaren tapped the side of his nose. “Talent, sweetling. Talent. Take my word. Since you don’t have it yourself you’ll never really understand.”
“I understand when somebody is blowing smoke, though.” Heris was irked but only mildly so. Februaren had not been condescending. “Won’t their disappearance tell him you’re on to him?”
“He has half a brain. He should assume that anyway.”
“When he doesn’t know you’re still alive?”
“He’ll know that as soon as he gets the news from the show downstairs.”
Principat? Delari said, “I have no love for Bronte Doneto. But I have an almost boundless respect. He’s done an amazing job of crafting himself, almost entirely in secrecy. I still have no real idea what he was up to in the catacombs with the Witchfinders that time. You be careful of him, Piper. He must have figured out that you and Armand helped me escape.”
Februaren added, “Keep an eye out for rogue Witchfinders, too.”
“Rogue Witchfinders?”
“You’ve been around the Brotherhood of War most of the time since you arrived in Firaldia. Have you figured out what the Witchfinders were up to in the catacombs? Or in Sonsa, at the Ten Galleons?”
“No.” And he had tried to find out. Cautiously.
“Chances are, nobody knows anymore. Except maybe Bronte Doneto, the only survivor. Barring Lila or Vali knowing something they’ve never reported.”
“There’s nothing there.”
Heris said, “You could always ask the Patriarch himself.”
The others chuckled charitably.
The Ninth Unknown asked, “How soon till you go haring off after your impossible fantasy, Piper?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sure you won’t resist the blandishments of Alten Weinberg. I’m hoping you hold out awhile. So Muno can get you connected to the Construct.”
Hecht’s response was instant aversion.
Februaren revealed a lot of teeth. Those could have used more attention. “You aren’t in the Realm of Peace anymore, Piper. And it’s important.”
Delari observed, “The Realm of Peace turned its back on you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I get it. But I don’t like it. I don’t like being an exile, either. I’ll spend as much time with the Construct as I can.”
Heris remarked, “Note that he denied nothing about Alten Weinberg, nor the Empire, nor the two pullets running the farmyard there.”
Februaren said, “Oh, we noted.”
Hecht’s cheeks grew heated.
Breakfast at Anna Mozilla’s house. The Consent family visiting. No? in the kitchen with Anna. Little Consents infesting the place like they were twice their actual number, playing some game where they fled from Pella and the girls, shrieking and running.
Hecht slumped in a comfortable chair, sipped a mint tea, and enjoyed the domestic chaos. Titus occupied a chair facing him. He had said nothing since they finished eating. He sipped from a showy Clearenzan glass filled with grape juice. He, too, was savoring the moment. Finally, reluctantly, he asked about Alten Weinberg. “Are we going?”
Hecht nodded. “I don’t know when. I visited the Penital. Told them we’ll take the job if the Empress still wants us.”
“Us?”
“She takes everybody. Or nobody. Has Prosek decided?”
“He waffles. He loves the stinks and bangs and won’t get to play with them if he follows the Brotherhood to the Holy Lands.”
“I don’t want to lose him. Or Kait Rhuk. By the way. There’s a new ambassador. Bayard va Still-Patter. Graf fon Wistrcz got called home. His wife did something to offend the Empress.”
“Bayard. Not so good. He didn’t like us taking over his place.”
“All is forgiven. If he hadn’t been made to suffer through that, Katrin wouldn’t have given him this plum assignment.”
“What’s holding you here?”
Hecht made a gesture to include their surroundings. “And Principat? Delari. That old man is a slave driver.”
“Having you do what?”
“He claims it’s education. I’m not allowed to talk about it.” And did not want to. Encounters with the Construct left him feeling inadequate, even retarded. Heris said she had felt the same in the beginning. He could accept that intellectually but never before had he had difficulty mastering any skill.
“All right. We’ll go when we go. I won’t need to look for work right away. But I do worry about No? getting sick of having me underfoot.”
“I can empathize with that.” Hecht was uncomfortable. Titus no longer seemed able to conceive of life without his being part of Piper Hecht’s staff.
Consent said, “By the way, I’ve found where Krulik and Sneigon are relocating. Which isn’t anywhere near where I expected.” He took a folded sheet of paper from his sleeve, handed it over. Hecht opened it, smoothed it. On it was a painstakingly produced map of the upper Vieran Sea. A red circle lay in the wild mountains over on the Eastern Empire side. “Somewhere in there. I found it because Krulik and Sneigon are recruiting veterans to defend something. Some of my agents were approached. I had them sign up.”
“I presume you know more than this.”
“Of course. Hidden in rough country that’s mostly empty. Plague wiped out the population several hundred years ago.”
An odd and terrible time that had been. The plague hit hardest in the Eastern Empire just as the Praman Conquest reached its ferocious peak. Some believed that the vast movements of peoples at the time spread the disease. Within the Eastern Empire urban populations became so depleted that rural folk flooded in hoping to prosper. Many of them died as well. Vast tracts of country had gone back to nature. And remained wilderness even now, centuries later.
“Why just there?”
“Splendid isolation, yet a river wide and gentle enough for small barge traffic. Vast old forests to turn into charcoal. And nearby ore deposits. Not the best but still good. Especially if they use forced labor. There’s no
