Wheel of the Infinite (32 page)

She stepped forward and leaned on the balustrade, reaching for the Adversary. It was slow to respond, and she prayed it wasn’t losing whatever hold kept it here with them. It was their only hope.

“Are they people?” the Temple Master whispered.

“No,” Maskelle said, almost as softly. “They can get past the barrier. One already did.”

Raith was staring at her. He turned back to look out at the dark. “They must know we mean to destroy their Wheel,” he muttered.

“A traitor,” Mirak said grimly. “We know the creatures can take human shape, imprison human souls. There’s one here, with us.”

Maskelle shook her head, frowning.
Something wrong there
. “Gisar, the demon has escaped. It’s too much of a coincidence. It could have warned them.” She saw Rian’s sharp glance, but he said nothing. If by some trick of the Ancestors, Gisar was helping them, she didn’t want to reveal it just yet.

“How?” Mirak asked sharply.

Raith spared a moment to give the Chancellor an annoyed look. “The same way a human traitor would have.”

Maskelle stopped listening to them. She could feel the Adversary’s presence now, hear its voice in her head though the words came too quickly to follow. She closed her eyes and felt it fill the space around her. Whatever those creatures were, they had been dead a long time. She felt a flash of contempt, bitter and hot, and wondered where it came from. Not from the Adversary, surely. She must have felt the emotion herself, and it was reflecting back to her from their tenuous connection to the Infinite.

She blinked and opened her eyes. She was sitting on the floor of the gallery, Rian supporting her. The Temple Master knelt in front of her, chafing her wrists. The Throne, Mirak, and the guards had left. The night was silent again; the howl of the whirlwinds and the creatures on the plain were gone. “What. ..”

“It’s all right,” the Temple Master told her. He didn’t look as if it was all right. He looked as if he had seen something that had horrified him.

Rian helped her to her feet and she looked for the creatures. The whirlwinds had vanished, and there was no more movement out past the wall. She said, “They left?”

“They died,” Rian told her. As she steadied herself on the balustrade, he pointed. She squinted, trying to see, and finally made out still shapes lying on the stone.

“The Adversary?” the Temple Master asked.

Maskelle nodded weakly.

“I didn’t know it could do that,” Rian said, sounding impressed.

As soon as the cavelike darkness began to lighten to grey, Maskelle went to the south gate in the outer wall and through the barrier with Rian and Rastim. After the attack last night, the priests had altered their chant slightly, just enough to change two vital steps of the path through the barrier. It would be changed again tonight, as darkness fell, and again every night they spent here.

The sentries on the gate watched them curiously, the older one pointing out to Rian that they couldn’t cover them while they were outside the barrier. Maskelle didn’t think that would be a problem; their opponents had shown no inclination to attack during the day.

The sky was still heavily clouded, but the air was warmer and smelled faintly of smoke. Despite the dimness of the morning light she could already see that the dark plumes over the distant mountains were larger.

The bodies of the creatures who had tried to attack still littered the ground outside the wall, but as Rian kicked one over Maskelle saw that, like Marada’s remnants, they weren’t bodies at all. Rocks, fragments of carved stone, smashed pieces of dark-colored pottery clung together in a roughly man-shaped form. It didn’t seem to have a head, but then Maskelle supposed whoever had created it hadn’t thought the creature needed one.

Rastim stared. “That’s all that’s left?”

Maskelle shook her head slightly. “That’s all there ever was.”

“Something just put them together out of whatever was lying around and sent them after us?” Rastim said in wonder, looking around at the debris. “Like puppets.” He shivered in disgust. He was taking Gisar’s activities very much to heart, and seemed to think that he and the other Ariaden were somehow responsible for the trouble it was causing. Maskelle didn’t have the time to sit down and convince him it wasn’t true, that no one could have anticipated any of this, especially not the bizarre change in Gisar’s demon.

Even the Adversary hadn’t been able to warn her; at least, not in a way she could understand.

“Like that armor in the Palace,” Rian said, poking at the remains of the creature again. He sat on his heels to turn the pieces over. “Like Gisar. Or what it changed Gisar into.”

Maskelle pushed her hair back and let her breath out wearily. Her skin was gritty with the wind-blown dust. “It would help if we knew if it led you to the spot where Marada was coming through the barrier by accident or design. And how Marada learned the way through at all.” Gisar had been seen throughout the night in the outer court and the third gallery, sometimes as close as the lower level of the second gallery. It had hurt no one so far, only appearing long enough to make people chase it. Maskelle had been awake all night, bracing for a possible second attack from outside and trying to get the Adversary’s help to track down their resident demon, but the Infinite had been unresponsive. Rian looked weary too; she knew he had gotten only an hour or so of sleep, sitting up against the wall outside the room where the Celestial One lay. He was as determined to catch Gisar as she was.

“I’m sure I heard another voice,” he said. He shook his head, still staring down at the litter, though she could tell his thoughts weren’t on it. “I think she knew the way through because someone told her. Which means they know our plans.”

Maskelle nodded grimly. They were still going to send out the search parties. There was nothing else they could do.

Rastim had moved over to the other heaps of debris that lay nearby, picking through the remains. Maskelle saw Karuda and a few guardsmen come out of the gate, make their way through the barrier, and stare around at the “bodies” of the creatures.

Rian got to his feet and absently rubbed his hands on his pants. “You can’t go out with a search party,” he told Maskelle.

Rastim looked up, his expression intent.

Maskelle stared from one man to the other. “Oh, so you two decided this?”

Rastim scratched his head and looked away. Rian sighed and stared up at the dark cloudy sky. “Yes, that’s it. While we were tearing the place apart looking for a demon puppet, we’ve been plotting against you.”

She rubbed her forehead tiredly. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“You can’t go with us. All the priests are keeping the barrier up. If Gisar goes after the Voices, or the Celestial One, or the Wheel—”

“I know,” she said sharply. “I know.”

“I’m going,” Rastim said conversationally. He stood, looking off at the buildings to the south, their spires and domes wreathed in mist. “Which direction are we taking? I think—”

Rian stared at him. “Who are you talking to?”

Ignoring that, Maskelle asked the Ariaden, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Rastim tucked his thumbs in his belt uneasily. “I talked it over with the others and we’re all going out, except for Mali and the girls.” He told Rian, “I’m going with you.” With a shrug he added, “It stands to reason. We’re not needed here. And we want to pull our weight. Especially after the ... Gisar incident.”

Maskelle threw her arms in the air. “Chasing him last night was helping.”

Rian eyed the actor-manager for a moment, then said, “If you go with me, what are you going to do?”

Rastim bridled. “Help. What else?”

“No. What are you going to do?”

Rastim hesitated. Maskelle folded her arms and looked at the ground, hiding a smile. Rastim huffed and finally said grimly, “Whatever you say.”

“All right. You can come.”

“Well, thank you very kindly.”

“Now that we’ve got that settled . . .” Maskelle looked around, trying not to think about anything but this present moment. “Which way are you taking?”

“South,” Rian said, talking to the ground. She was a little surprised to see it; he had won arguments with her before. She seemed to recall that he had won most of them. She realized he knew how she felt at being forced to stay behind, and sighed a little. He said, “There’re three groups going out this way. We’ll spread out to cover more ground.”

Maskelle looked south, hoping for guidance. Her eyes passed over a tall structure with two spires standing up like horns, then came back to it. Something . . . No, she wasn’t sure. She shook her head in annoyance. Since this had happened the Adversary was either too close for comfort or completely absent. “I’ll follow you in spirit form as long as I can.”

Outside the gate in the south wall, Karuda folded the square of paper that had their plan for the search drawn on it and said, “If you find it, no heroics. Send someone back for help immediately.”

Rian nodded mock-solemnly. “I know. We agreed on that last night.” The sky was only a little lighter and the men who would form the search parties for this direction were gathered around, checking their weapons, and curiously examining the remains of the creatures as he, Maskelle, and Rastim had earlier this morning.

Karuda grimaced but didn’t reply, tucking the folded parchment into his belt. The Kushorit noble had meant to lead one of the parties going to the east, but now he was staying behind to oversee the defense of the Marai. He didn’t look happy about it. He looked, in fact, like the circumstance left him not only badly embarrassed but had irreparably injured his honor. Rian knew he must have been ordered to stay behind by Mirak or the Emperor.

The group Rian would lead had two Palace Guards, one temple guard, two temple servants, and a monk, plus Rastim and Rian. There were two other groups going out from this side and Rastim was helping with the others who were dividing up the supplies. By turning out the entire contents of the temple storerooms, they had scrounged up several coils of rope and enough candles and handlamps to go around. There were also water flasks for everyone and a ration of food. Everyone was armed, though some only with makeshift clubs.

Karuda said shortly, “Good luck,” and walked away.

Rian turned to realize they had had an audience, that his men and the other two groups were watching them with concern.

“Lord Karuda is very proud,” one of the Palace Guards said. Rian thought the man’s name was Idoru.

“That’s why he should be with us,” Rian said, which made everyone happy except Rastim, who rolled his eyes and muttered, “Diplomacy, who would have thought it?”

Rian made sure everyone knew the altered steps to go back and forth through the priests’ defensive barrier. After performing the maneuver for the fifth time, Rastim objected, “Look Sintane, I have sixty-three plays in my head. I can remember a few dance steps.”

“All right, fine.” Rian wiped dusty sweat off his forehead and gave in. He picked up one of the packs with their supplies. “Let’s go.”

He waved to the leaders of the other two groups and they started away in the same direction Rian and Karuda had taken yesterday. Rastim positioned himself at his side, talking cheerfully. They would be able to see and hear the other groups for a time, but the plan called for them to spread out as they searched, to cover more ground. As they neared the first building, the one they had examined yesterday, Rian glanced back at the temple and movement caught his eye. He stopped, gazing back at it, squinting against the blown dust.

Rastim kept walking—and talking—for a few moments before he noticed. He jogged back to Rian’s side and asked with annoyance, “Did we forget something?”

“No. I thought I saw someone following us.”

“Ah.” Rastim shielded his eyes with his hand. “Perhaps it’s just someone coming along for a little while, you know. Out of curiosity.”

Rian turned to stare at him, incredulous. “What, like dolphins after ships?”

Rastim immediately became defensive. “Why not?”

Rian shook his head, looking back at the temple. He didn’t see any movement now. Perhaps it had only been someone left behind and running to catch up with the other group. Or his imagination, or a trick of the light.
In this place? With our luck? Not likely
.

“That’s me,” Maskelle whispered in his ear.

Rian just managed to turn his alarmed twitch into a shrug and rubbed the back of his neck. He remembered that she had said she would follow in spirit and he hadn’t really considered what that would mean.

Rastim was frowning at him.

“Come on,” Rian said, settling his pack more firmly on his shoulder and smiling a little.

“I was going already, you’re the one who stopped.”

“High Revered?”

Maskelle’s eyes were filled with the strange city backed by the smoking mountains. It took a moment of concentration to say the word aloud and not whisper it in Rian’s ear. “What?”

“A person has come from the Celestial Emperor. He wishes to speak with you.”

“The person or the Emperor?”

“The Emperor.”

Ah, well. This had to happen soon enough
. And at least Raith had chosen to make his request before the searchers had gotten too far into the city. She extended her spirit out toward them again and whispered, “I have to go. It shouldn’t be long.”

“We’ll try not to have fun without you,” she heard Rian say aloud.

“What?” Rastim sounded startled.

Smiling faintly, Maskelle brought herself back to her body. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, focusing on the nun who had brought the news. “Who came with the message?”

“A courtier, High Revered. I do not know him.” The nun looked a little worried, as well she might; they had seen no one from the palace contingent except Mirak and Karuda and the guards.

“Well, I probably don’t know him either.” Maskelle stood and stretched, ignoring the twinge from her knees. She went over to check the Celestial One.

As she knelt beside him, Old Mali said, “Still dead.” Despite the irreverence of her words, the old woman’s tone was bleak, her brow creased with sorrow.

“I didn’t suppose any different.” Maskelle touched the old man’s forehead lightly. His skin felt dry and cool.
I could use some help here
, she thought to him.
It’s not like you to hide from a fight
.

Maskelle stood and went to the door, brushing aside the makeshift curtain. In the gallery outside a courtier was waiting, being impolitely stared at by Doria and Killia. Doria was holding a bori club, though fortunately she wasn’t actively threatening anyone with it. The man was young, not much older than Raith, and looked as grim and tired as everyone else; the only thing that marked him as a courtier was the silk brocade of his robe. He bowed to her and said, “High Revered, the Throne—”

“I know,” she said. “I’ll go with you.”

Killia touched her sleeve. “Are you sure?” she whispered, speaking Ariaden. “What if it’s a trick?” Doria nodded worriedly.

“It’s all right,” she told them, raising placating hands. “Really.”

“You want us to come with you?” Doria asked, eyeing the courtier with wary suspicion.

“No, wait here. I won’t be long.”

She followed the courtier through the gallery and out into the central court. The courtier glanced up at the men and women lining the upper galleries. They were all still rapt in concentration, the soft murmur of their chant rising and falling in the dry air. He said, “How long can they do this?”

Maskelle glanced at him and saw the uncertainty under the veneer of grim determination. “As long as the food and water hold out.”

He led her to the corner tower and the stairs that went up to the second-level gallery. She caught glimpses of the other members of the royal party in the tower rooms and the chambers to the side, their festival clothes showing the wear after the days of unaccustomed use. A few of Karuda’s archers, left out of the search parties to guard the temple, were posted at regular intervals. Everyone watched her with the mix of curiosity and fear she was long accustomed to. Except now there was something else in their expressions.
Hope
? Maskelle wondered. That would be typical.
They look to me for their salvation, and I have only questions, no answers
.

A room had been divided off from the gallery by a couple of festival banners, and outside it waited more guards and another couple of courtiers, these two armed with swords. One of the guards drew the curtain back and the courtier who had brought her here bowed and gestured for her to enter.