"A debate we've had before, young one," said Eff, nodding without agreeing. "Am I the First Constable Under the Starless Sky?" he asked sardonically. Ess scoffed like a teenager. "Am I the First Arbiter of Matters Not My Own? No. I am the First Master of our grand Theory. My life is lived for our pursuit of knowledge, not for justice, even were I to call what you desire justice. My work is for the betterment of the Theory itself, which again is why I say it matters not who controls Over or the Underlands."
"What if he were to make decrees according to his despotism?" asked Ess. "And outlaw the practice of the Theory? Or the worship of the Blacksmith?"
Eff shrugged. "Then we would have to take action. Kill him? Perhaps. Perhaps not. The Underlord himself would be a powerful convert, don't you think?"
Ess's eyelids had drooped. She seemed to have tired of the argument, but Pierce sensed she wasn't cowed.
"Either way," said Eff, "we are going to make the sky blue. Why not? It could prove a stimulating challenge."
He turned to address the forgemaster directly for the first time and paused. Sev's size seemed to surprise him as he scanned the big man.
"This certainly is a novel occurrence," he said. "It will be a pursuit worth recording," he smiled. "Now, do you have the tools you'll need? Or will we have to make a trip into town?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
School of Mages
As refugees from the strange invasion, it was only natural that Gorgonbane and the garrison men didn't have dangling equipment after all. Agrathor volunteered to ride back into Shiv to get what was needed, and protested only mildly when Pierce said he'd go too.
"Sure you can keep up, kid? You know I don't sleep, right?" the bone man grumbled.
Pierce gave Agrathor a winning smile, trying to match the skeleton's grin. "I'm good for it, sir. There's way too much going on for me to be able to sleep anyhow."
Agrathor studied him a moment, then nodded. "Come on then, let's mount up."
They galloped the raptorions for a time, as long as was healthy for them, then slowed to a canter to let them rest a bit. The two beasts nipped at each other playfully.
They weren't far gone from Chasmverge when Pierce thought he heard Agrathor singing. It was a strange sound, an approximation of breath and tone, with a raspy edge that bordered on growling. It carried across the flats as well as any normal voice, clearly audible over the scraping of the raptorions' feet on the scrubby ground. He had never heard anything like it. He listened intently until Agrathor finished the song.
"That was excellent, sir," he said after the last note died out.
Agrathor eyed him as if he thought Pierce might be teasing, then seemed to see the earnestness on the younger man's face.
"Thank you," Agrathor said cooly. "I never know how it really sounds anymore. It's a little echoey in here." He tapped his skull with a plonk.
"What was it?" Pierce asked. "I didn't recognize it."
"It was actually the long version of the Everlasting Temple's anthem. Back in school, we had to sing it at every assembly and commencement, so it got a little tiresome. Now it's been so long," he shrugged, rattling his armor, "it just brings back memories. You should hear Ess sing the harmony - it'll melt your heart."
Pierce glanced away, hoping he wasn't blushing. Agrathor chuckled drily.
"But she's already done that, hasn't she?" he teased. "Oh you aren't the first, boy. Even the ones that say they hate supra-gen can't keep their eyes off her."
"So you went to school together at the Temple?" Pierce asked, trying to draw attention away from his affliction.
Agrathor nodded. "Best in our class, I don't mind saying. My focus was in force projection. Hers, concentration and augmentation. Those were wonderful times."
"Would you tell me about it, sir?" said Pierce. "We don't have anything else to do."
Agrathor's flame eyes thinned out, and Pierce thought he was going to say no, but perhaps he was just approximating a squint of remembrance.
"Ess was quite the ragamuffin when she first showed up. I, of course, was in my prime - strong body, beautiful long golden hair. I knew it too, and I remember looking down my nose at the girl. Me, in fancy silk clothes, clean-shaven, never lived a day without a bath."
Agrathor put a skeletal hand to his face, as if remembering the prickle of morning stubble.
"Ess's clothes were poor, stained, a tiny step above potato sacks, and her leather shoes were falling apart. She looked every bit a refugee of the Underlands. I was pompous enough back then that if she hadn't been supra-gen, I would have just ignored her. As it was I had to wonder how she got into the school. You either need money, or talent. I figured it was the latter, considering her dress.
"We had scarcely stepped out of the auditorium from orientation when a big Westerling girl accosted Ess out of nowhere. Can't remember her name. Let's call her Kath.
"'Hey blackie,' she'd said. I'll never forget the sneer on her face. 'What you up here for? Why don't you get back down where you belong and suck some muck?' Kath pushed Ess, and she fell back several steps. I might have been stuck up, but my mother taught me not to abide bullies. I braced myself to intervene. It was then that I saw that flash in her eyes, and I knew she was like me - a warrior. I think I grinned - at least I remember the sensation of it. Kath was about to get herself smashed.
"That's not what happened," Agrathor paused. "Not exactly. Ess was tense. She wanted to fight, but something held her back. She smoothed out her ratty clothes, straightened her back, and stood as if waiting for something.
"'What, you're mute too?' said Kath. She was angry at Ess for not falling down, I
