She was sagging against the wall again. Her legs were like iron, inhumanly heavy. She was spent. This wasn't possible, this stupid climb to the absurd top of this ridiculous tower. It was simply beyond her endurance to keep going like this, to ascend to heights that humans patently were not meant to reach. Was the air up here... scarcer? It certainly felt like it. Her lungs were laboring painfully. Her heart was working faster than normal. She felt as if both her knees were about to give way. She closed her eyes, rested her head against the cool stone wall. Cultat was just going to have to see her some other time...
'Beauty?'
A line creased between her closed eyes as she felt a new sharp surge of annoyance. 'Beauty' had been Xink's affectionate name for her early on in their relationship, before things had turned so disastrous, before she'd learned that the handsome sixth phase University Attache was just Honnis's tool. The war studies head had put Xink deliberately on to her, and like a blithe virginal fool she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. It had all been devised to keep her singularly focused on analyzing the Felk advancements. It had worked. She had neglected her normal studies at Febretree, and Xink had filled her innocent heart with love and her nights with untold sexual ecstasy.
Oddly enough, despite seeing her lover in this new, much less flattering light, she did still feel love for him. And he professed to have legitimately fallen in love with her.
'Don't call me that,' she muttered.
'Praulth,' Xink said, with some insistence, 'we're here.'
She opened her eyes. The two of them had been searched for weapons by a contingent of guards at the foot of this tower, then passed on to the stairwell, and told simply to climb until there was nowhere else to go. No guards had accompanied them on their ascent into these implausible upper reaches.
Without her noticing, the endless stairs had finally played out. They had reached a broad landing, the floor a dark red stone polished to a high gleam. Another contingent of guards was here, their uniforms lustrous, their bearing formal. Praulth pushed herself off the wall with some effort as one approached.
'You may come this way,' he said.
'Oh,
They entered a chamber, and whatever scornful retort Praulth might have made when their escort told them to wait died on her tongue. The room was barely furnished, though it had an elegance lent it by a few tastefully placed fixtures. What drew Praulth's total attention, however, was the wall composed entirely of glass, which looked out over the immense vista of the city.
It wasn't that Petgrad was magnificently large and sophisticated. It was that; but after two days here she was already acclimating. What pulled her toward the glass was the fantastic height of this vantage. She had understood, intellectually, that climbing to the top of this tower, all the way up to where it was capped by a metal cupola, would take her far into the heavens, virtually up among the clouds. But to
She was still walking toward the glass, the view broadening and deepening with every step. It was approaching sunset, and lights were appearing among the array of buildings below. It all looked so small! Up here she felt enormous, aloof. It was intoxicating.
Too much so. Before she had reached the glass wall, hearing Xink trying to get her attention again and ignoring him, Praulth's limp legs finally did give out. As she dropped toward the floor, it felt as though she were falling into the incredible panorama before her, falling from this vast height, falling toward the streets of Petgrad, waiting far far below.
A frightened cry was just tearing from her throat as a strong hand caught her, stopped her, drew her gently back onto her wobbly feet, and held her there until she could stand without aid.
'There, Thinker Praulth. You're not the first to swoon at the sight.'
She blinked rapidly. The vertigo was passing. How strange. The view had seemed to physically
'I'm all right, Premier,' she said. This wasn't how she'd wanted to present herself before Petgrad's ruler. It was the second time she was meeting the formidable royal personage, the first having taken place at a secret gathering at the University, the same night she'd learned such terrible secrets about Honnis and Xink.
'Once you get used to it, though, it's really quite soothing,' Cultat said. He let go of her, and she tottered a few steps back.
Petgrad's premier was as fearsome as she remembered, hair a thick red and gold, a greying beard of the same colors dressing a craggy face, where harsh blue eyes burned. He was tall, broad of shoulder, perhaps fifty years old or more.
Praulth had been made to climb the arduous outrageous height of this tower to see him, and what did she do when she was finally here? She fell to her knees. Obviously the climb had symbolic value. It made one a supplicant before one ever arrived. It drained one of physical energy. On every slogging riser of this upward journey Praulth had promised herself she wouldn't let the trick work. She was no longer the unassertive University student. She, by dint of her value as an expert war strategist, was someone to be reckoned with. Cultat would have to learn that.
'It's a pleasure to see you again. Your quarters, they're comfortable, I hope?'
'I... yes, Premier.'
'Good. You have my heartfelt appreciation for agreeing to come to Petgrad on such short notice.'
'It's, uh, my honor.'
A smile touched his worn, weary but ferociously alive features. This was no doddering elder. This was a vital leader of a great state, the largest the southern half of the Isthmus had to boast.
And with those few rumbling words and a supporting hand he had disarmed her completely, robbing her of the necessary heat of her self-righteousness.
'I've gathered a conference,' Cultat said. 'It's been very loud, very contentious, and so far has accomplished very little beyond the fact that we've all come together in a single room, without anyone seizing anyone else's throat. These are representatives and consuls from the states and lands unconquered as yet by the Felk. My hope... our only hope... is to turn this alliance from an admirable notion into a functional reality. We are ready now, Praulth, for you.'
He was gesturing toward a set of doors. The wood, Praulth noted, was blood-oak. She was hesitant.
'Your messenger,' she said. 'The one who came to Febretree. Merse. He said your neighboring states were all agreeing to the alliance, ready to pool resources and manpower against the Felk.'
'See the ease with which the words are said? Yes. It's a sensible plan. It's the
'Of course, Premier.'
'That's fine. Your aide can wait here. Come in now, won't you, and show these squabblers the excellence of your abilities.'
Her hesitancy had been a simple case of stage fright. Her academic life hadn't prepared her to face a roomful of people who were hanging on and judging her every word. Her years at the University had been ones of private efforts and solitary studies, of judgments rendered by individual instructors. One could pass an entire lune at Febretree, if one tried, without having direct spoken contact with anyone.
But the maps spread over the large table were so irresistible, so familiar. She had seen them before, renderings delivered to her by Master Honnis. These were a comprehensive history of the Felk war, so far. And
She didn't now entertain these grand thoughts. Her mind was occupied with the meat of it all, with the
