Nightside the Long Sun

“My mistress is sometimes careless regarding the safety catch, sir. It may be well to exercise due caution until you have ascertained its condition.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Silk muttered as he gingerly extracted the first.

It was a needler so small that it lay easily in the palm of his hand, elaborately engraved and gold plated; the thumb-sized ivory grips were inlaid with golden hyacinths, and a minute heron scanned a golden pool for fish at the base of the rear sight. For a moment, Silk too knew peace, lost in the flawless craftsmanship that had been lavished upon every surface. No venerated object in his manteion was half so fine.

“Should that discharge, it could destroy my glass, sir.”

Silk nodded absently. “I’ve seen needlers—I saw two tonight, in fact—that could eat this one.”

“You have informed me that you are unfamiliar with the safety catch, sir. Upon either side of the needier you hold, you will observe a small movable convexity. Raised, it will prevent the needier from discharging.”

“This,” Silk said. Like the grips, each tiny boss was marked with a hyacinth, though these were so small that their minute, perfect florets were almost microscopic. He pushed one of the bosses down, and the other moved with it. “Will it fire now?”

“I believe so, sir. Please do not direct it toward my glass. Glasses are now irreplaceable, sir, the art of their manufacture having been left behind when—”

“I’m greatly tempted nevertheless.”

“In the event of the destruction of this glass I should be unable to deliver your message to Auk, sir.”

“In which case there’d be no need of it. This smooth bar inside the ring is the trigger, I suppose.”

“I believe that is correct, sir.”

Silk pointed the needier at the wardrobe and pressed the trigger. There was a sharp snap, like the cracking of a child’s whip. “It doesn’t seem to have done anything,” he said.

“My mistress’s wardrobe is not a living creature, sir.”

“I never thought it was, my son.” Silk bent to examine the wardrobe’s door; a hole not much thicker than a hair had appeared in one of its polished panels. He opened the door again. Some, though not all, of the gowns in line with the hole showed ragged tears, as if they had been stabbed with a dull blade a little narrower than his index finger.

“I should use this on you, you know, my son,” he told the monitor, “for Auk’s sake. You’re just a machine, like the scorer in our ball court.”

“I am a machine, but not just a machine, sir.”

Nodding mostly to himself, Silk pushed up the safety catch and dropped the little needler into his pocket.

The other object hidden under the stockings was shaped like the letter T. The stem was cylindrical and oddly rough, with a single, smooth protuberance below the crossbar; the crossbar itself seemed polished and slightly curved, and had upturned ends. The entire object felt unnaturally cold, as reptiles often do. Silk extracted it from the stockings with some difficulty and examined it curiously.

“Would it be convenient for me to withdraw, sir?” the monitor asked.

Silk shook his head. “What is this?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

He regarded the monitor narrowly. “Can you lie, under extreme provocation, my son? Tell an untruth? I know a chem quite well; and she can, or so she says.”

“No, sir.”

“Which leaves me not a whit the wiser.” Silk seated himself on the stool again.

“I suppose not, sir.”

“I think I know what this is, you see.” Silk held the T-shaped object up for the monitor’s inspection; it gleamed like polished silver. “I’d appreciate confirmation, and some instructions on how to operate it.”

“I am afraid I cannot assist you, sir, although I would be glad to receive your own opinion.”

“I think it’s an azoth. I’ve never actually seen one, but we used to talk about them when I was a boy. One summer all of us made wooden swords, and sometimes we pretended they were azoths.”

“Charming, sir.”

“Not really,” Silk muttered, scrutinizing the flashing gem in the pommel of the azoth. “We were as bloodthirsty as so many little tigers, and what’s charming about that? But anyway, an azoth is supposed to be controlled by something called a demon. If you don’t know about azoths, you don’t know anything about that, I suppose.”

“No, sir.” The monitor’s floating face swung from side to side, revealing that there was no head behind it. “If you wish to conceal yourself, sir, should you not do so at once? My master’s steward and some of our guards are searching the suites on this floor.”

“How do you know that?” Silk asked sharply.

“I have been observing them. I have glasses in some of the other suites, sir.”

“They began at the north end of the corridor?”

“Yes, sir. Quite correct.”

Silk rose. “Then I must hide in here well enough to escape them, and get into the north wing after they’ve left.”

“You haven’t examined the other wardrobe, sir.”