“Neither of you is making any sense,” he snarled.
“Be calm, Glim,” Annaig said in their private cant. “Just be still and let me explain.”
Annaig watched Glim’s face as he listened to her, as she tried to explain to him that he was still Glim, still the friend she had grown up with, that she had rescued him, not murdered him.
But his face wasn’t exactly the same. It looked younger, which made sense, but there was also a little something different about the shape of it; the same for his coloring, which had more rust in it now. If she had seen this body a few months ago, she would have thought it one of Glim’s brothers, but she wouldn’t have mistaken it for him.
But inside, he had to be the same. He had to. Sure, he seemed somehow more distracted than the old Glim, seemed to have a hard time focusing on what she was saying, but surely that was a side effect of the incubation process. To go from a worm to an adult with eighteen years’ worth of memories in a few days had to be a shock.
But Glim didn’t come to that conclusion.
“You’re saying I’m not me anymore,” he said, in as strange a tone as she had ever heard him use. “I’m a copy.”
“No,” Annaig said. “You have the same soul, Glim. The poison I made caught it before Umbriel could take it away.”
Glim scratched at his flesh. “But this isn’t my body. It isn’t even a Saxhleel body. It’s grown from a proform. I’m not-” He jerked to his feet.
“This is all I’ve ever been to you, an experimental subject! ‘Drink this, Glim, you’ll turn invisible, this will let you fly, this will kill you and bring you back to life,’ but not quite right, never quite right!”
Annaig felt as if layers of cloth were wrapped around her, muffling everything, hiding what Glim ought to be able to see, trapping anything she could say that might help in dense warp and weft.
“I’m sorry, Glim, it’s all I could think of,” was the best she could do, and she saw now that it wasn’t good enough, might never be good enough.
“Listen,” she said, reaching to soothe his spines, “I know this is a lot right now. I know you may hate me. But I need to tell you a few things, about what I’m planning-”
“No,” Glim said, jerking away from her touch. “I’ve had it with your plans, with doing things your way. I’m finished with it.”
“Glim, listen,” she said, but he turned and stamped from the room. She went after him, but his wet footprints led to the balcony and ended there. She stood looking down at the spreading ripples far below, while Fhena came and stood by her.
“Go back to the Fringe Gyre,” she told Fhena. “I’m sure he’ll find you there, if he doesn’t get killed again immediately. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
Fhena nodded and padded silently away, leaving Annaig staring out at the wonder and madness that was Umbriel.
Her locket chimed.
She held it up and stared at it for a moment, then flipped it open.
Attrebus looked like he hadn’t slept in a month.
“Hello,” he said. “How are you?”
“As best as can be expected,” she replied.
“Look,” he said, “I may not have long. Sul and I think we’ve found a way to get up there. I’m not sure exactly when it will happen or where we’ll be.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Hierem, my father’s minister-he’s in league with Umbriel. We think he’s been traveling up there and back using a magical portal. We’re hoping when he comes down, we’ll go back up.”
The threads about her seemed to tighten.
“What can I do?”
“We’re going to try to use the sword, as we discussed earlier,” he said. “I’m not exactly sure what will happen then, even if we manage it. But I thought you should know, so you can be ready if-if any chance for escape comes.”
“What about you?”
“When it’s all over, Sul may be able to take us into Oblivion again.”
To her ear, it almost sounded like he didn’t care if he survived.
“Attrebus,” she said, “I’m sorry if I seemed angry before-”
“It’s okay. I think… I think maybe you had a right to be. I think we might have to talk about that someday.”
“Right,” she said. “Someday.”
“I’m going to put Coo up now-I need to be ready to fight whenever this happens. I just wanted you to know what was going on. If I have a chance to contact you after we get there, I’ll try.”
“Do that,” she said.
The locket went dark.
She took one last look at the vista beyond the balcony and then began striding purposefully toward her kitchen.
Hours passed, and Attrebus began to fear that perhaps Vineben was right, and Hierem had no intention of returning to the Imperial City. The wait did provide the time for a fuller exchange of information, but beyond that it was sheer torture. His mind kept trying to return to the feelings Hierem had violated him with, and he feared if he let that happen he would be useless in any confrontation, and so pressed for more conversation when he could.
“Arese?”
“Yes, Prince Attrebus?”
“You say you worked for my father.”
She glanced at her companion, but he didn’t give any sort of reaction. She pulled her shoulders back.
“I was at one time in his small circle, majesty.”
“You have the brand?”
She nodded and reached to show him, but he shook his head.
“That’s okay. I believe you.” He took a deep breath. “So you knew, then? About me?”
“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Prince-”
“I’m sure you know exactly what I mean,” he said.
She made a little grimace, and then acknowledged with a tilt of her head.
“Can you tell me why?” he asked.
“Your father-he’s a brilliant general, a cunning emperor. I’ve never known a man so strong. But when it came to you, he always had something of a weak spot.”
“Weak spot? My father doesn’t have a sentimental bone in his body.”
“I don’t mean that way,” she said. “I mean he had no idea what to do with you. When Hierem suggested you be groomed as a sort of boy hero, I think he was relieved to have some sort of direction. It was a way to keep an eye on you and keep you entertained at the same time.”
“Yes, when I was ten, I might see that,” Attrebus said. “But when I was fifteen? Nineteen?”
“Sometimes when something like that gets started, it takes on a life of its own. No one saw how far it was going to go, how locked into the role you would be. It’s been ten years since I could talk freely with the Emperor, but I’m sure he was hoping to draw you out of it gradually, marry you, settle you down, prepare you to rule.”
Attrebus absorbed that, remembering Gulan saying something about marriage not long before…
“I got them all killed,” he murmured. “And I should have known better. I should have seen it myself, but I didn’t want to. And for that, everyone who rode with me-”
“Hierem did that, not you,” Vineben cut in.
“He’s right,” Sul said tersely. “This is no time for this sort of thing.” His voice softened a little. “Maybe you should do what he suggests-go to your father. If I can’t kill Vuhon by myself…” He trailed off.
“Then me being there won’t help?” Attrebus finished. “What about all of that about needing Coo?”
“I’ll find him,” Sul replied.
