cityofthehand: A landscape picture of bright green hills (Default)
The City of the Hand ([personal profile] cityofthehand) wrote2012-06-29 10:10 am

Chapter Twenty-Eight




<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>







Chapter Twenty-Eight


“I wish you’d had this brilliant idea sooner,” Yena said, frustrated, leaning over the map of the Palace and the Capitol Complex on the tea table. They had moved from Councilor Vharoi’s offices to Councilor Stardown’s to plan the details of this desperate strategy.

“Sorry. Next time the city is in mortal peril from a conspiracy at the highest levels, I’ll be sure to have all my good ideas well in advance,” Maira promised and she broke a little bit of a smile, meeting Yena’s gaze over the map before they both looked down again.

“Covering the roads is the most important thing, even with the Asna’isi giving air cover. The Councilor will know if we have her followed from here, we have to pick her up outside,” Yena said and she marked with a red pencil the most ideal spots to lay in wait to follow Vharoi.

“If we get lucky, and we’re certainly due for some luck by now, she’ll take one of the main roads,” Kei-zi said, pointing down to the Avenue of the Capitol, the main road that sliced the Palm in half, going east to west from either side of the palace.

“Unless she takes the tunnels,” Maira mentioned, and frowned at the map incompleteness. It marked main roads, but not smaller ones in neighborhoods or the two levels of underground tunnels that criss-crossed the Palm. “You don’t have them here. And a lot of them are hard to find unless you know where to look.”

“And you know where to look?” Yena asked. Maira nodded. She could, if they wanted, draw most of them from memory.

“Why am I not surprised?” Kharaz grumbled.

“Most likely because it is obvious to all observers that she is extraordinarily clever and resourceful,” Lord Shadow replied, with an hint of sharpness and he looked across the table stony faced, daring the commander to issue even a glance of challenge. When none came, he continued, “These roads are easily visible from the sky, leave them to us. Prime Graymere will assign agents there.”

“With the trustworthy prefects I can summon on short notice, we can take the rest of the streets on ground level,” Kharaz said. “Does your clever and resourceful lady have any idea how we’re going to cover all the tunnels at once? From what I gather, there are miles of them down there.”

Maira wondered if she could get away with punching them. Just once, in the mouth. She didn’t believe in torture, but she couldn’t say she didn’t believe in a good slapping. Restraining herself with a smile at the idea of back handing their smug bearded face, she answered, “We don’t have to cover them all.”

“Oh?” they said, skeptically.

“Can I see your pencil?” Maira asked and Yena handed it over. Taking it, she lightly sketched, marking places along the wards and then tracing them back through the paths of tunnels. It was sloppy work, and some of the routes were off because she didn’t have a straight edge, but it was the best she could do. “These are all the tunnel routes that can get you out to anywhere near the wards. The rest of them come up somewhere else inside the Palm. If she or her people are going, they’ll probably take these.”

“And what if she should choose to surface before she reaches the outer edges?” Kharaz challenged.

Naran spoke up before Maira could. “Commander, I know you’re not enthused about this plan, but it’s only one we have. If you’re not going to let her help, maybe you should just go.”

“It’s not the only one,” they reminded Naran, sharply. “And it’s a legitimate concern. There’s time left to do the sensible thing and interrogate her further until she gives us what she needs.”

“Except it doesn’t make any sense at all!” Maira shouted, throwing the red pencil down. “I don’t care what you think of me. Fine, I am a Palm-rat, I am living garbage, but I’m the garbage that’s right about this. The Councilor only has to hold out for two hours if we go your way. Do you really think she’s that weak? My way actually uses that to our advantage. We convince her we’re about to destroy everything she’s fought for and watch her run. I know what that feels like. You take whatever chance you have to, you run ‘til your legs fall off, ‘til you can’t even crawl. I promise you, commander, that’s what she’s gonna do. She’s going to take one of these routes, and that’s how we’ll get her. So either be useful and help us or get the fuck out of this room because I am done with you!”

Maira had to suck in a loud breath to breathe again, trembling and wondering if she was going to slap them or if Kharaz was going to slap her.

They cocked his bushy brows and suddenly the corners of their mouth lifted, like she’d finally said something that they respected. “How many will it take to cover the tunnels?”

“Only four. The rest of the tunnel entrances are past where we’re set up, so if she takes them the people in the air or on the street will see it.”

“Any other suggestions, then, Lady?” Kharaz asked. The honorific didn’t sound laced with sarcasm this time.

“We have to make her believe it completely before we let her go.”

“That should be well within our abilities to do,” Lord Shadow commented.

They discussed further details in relative calm, deciding who should cover which tunnels. Luckily, there were only four of them left - her, Naran, Yena and Kei-zi. Naran, of course, suggested talismans and said that with a quick return to Xiaka’s shop, he could rig them to let him track where everyone was going. Kharaz fronted him money to buy the supplies before the commander left to hand pick the agents to be assigned to the streets, taking Yena and Kei-zi along with him. Graymere and Lord Shadow left Stardown’s sitting room to organize the agents that would watch the skies.

For the first time in days, Maira was truly alone. Silence roared like ocean waves and she sat down on a cushion, feeling oddly emptied when she expected to feel nervous, frightened, or even tired. None of those emotions came. Easiness swept over her and her eyes drooped. She heard the crinkle of the paper, still in her breast binder, on which the spell was written. She wondered if she would feel an emptiness inside herself when the device was taken out.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed between closing her eyes and waking when Kei-zi gently shook her and offered her a cup of steaming tea. She mumbled her thanks and took it as he patted her gently on the shoulder and sat beside her. She sipped cautiously, gazing over the blue glazed rim of the cup.
“Are you certain you’re up to this?” Yena asked. “I can find an agent to take your place.”

Maira shrugged. “I’m fine. I know the roads and tunnels better than anyone you have. Besides, what else would I do? Sit around here?”

“You could,” Naran replied. “No one would blame you.”

“Oh come on. It’s not even that dangerous. We’re just following her. She’ll probably take one of the roads and I’ll end up sitting in a tunnel for a while until someone runs her down. Nothing to it,” she said.

“Unless the device has been moved,” Yena said, pointedly. Maira just smiled.

“It’s where it’s supposed to be, don’t worry.”

“How can you be certain? You haven't had time to check on it in several days.”

“I…just know,” she replied, though she wasn’t sure there was a need to be coy about it. Perhaps it was just nice to spar a little, see if Yena could work her way to the truth. “Nobody would be able to search for it unless they knew where it was.”

Yena narrowed her eyes and sipped tea lightly from her own cup. “You’ve said this before. Interesting. If one already knows where the device is located, there is no need to search, but you say this is so. Which would mean that knowing the device’s location does not guarantee knowing where that location is. Therefore, it is a location that is not fixed.”

“You completely lost me, love,” Kei-zi said with a yawn. He slouched in his chair and bobbed a heeled foot up and down. “How can a location not be fixed?”

“Easily. The device is located somewhere that is constantly moving,” she said. Maira’s heart quickened and she tried her best to control her face.

“Or the device itself is moving constantly,” Naran said and he grinned. “If Andaric enchanted it, all you’d have to have is a means for calling it to yourself.” There was pain in his voice, even through his smile. Maira gave him a sad smile in return, realizing that for him it would never be over. He had forever lost his friend.

“So which is it?” Kei-zi asked.

The door opened before Maira’s mouth could. Kharaz strode in and announced, “She’s gone back to the other Tsaqa, and we’ve planted the information where we can. Her known spies should confirm what we’ve told her.”

“You let her keep spies in the Red Hand?” Maira asked.

Yena laughed as she rose from her seat. “Don’t sound so surprised. It’s better to know who they are and keep them close. It’s a good way to control information.”

Kharaz and then Lord Shadow confirmed twice over that everyone remembered their positions and knew what to do. Naran gave out the talismans and explanations on how to use them, which was as simple as he’d promised. They were nothing but flat circles of blue glass with tiny holes punched to let a black cord through. He put one over Maira’s head and she ducked a little to let him do so.

“Do you remember the word?” he asked, speaking so softly that she knew it was just for her. She raised her head and tucked the glass under her shirt.

“Yeah,” she said.

“If anything happens, say it. Shout it. I’ll be there in moments,” he said and rested his hands on her shoulder.

“I’m just going to be standing in a tunnel, that’s all.” She touched his arm lightly before she took her position beside Lord Shadow to leave the room, once more assuming the appropriately cool, blank look that suited such a place. She looked sidelong to Graymere as they walked. He inclined his head to her with a grin so slight Maira didn’t quite believe she’d really seen it.

Lord Shadow stopped at the gates, short of the ring of lamps that illuminated the outer palace walls. He alone could not continue on, too conspicuous to be part of the detail and too valued to be permitted to take risks with his safety, even small ones.

Maira gave him a little bow before she went with the others, and hoped he would know that it was a way of saying thank you, a way of promising him that she would not fail, perhaps even a way of forgiving him for his high handedness.

The Asna’isi fluttered, nearly silently, into the air and the Red Hand separated. Naran and she traded a parting glance and she broke away to the north and east, seeking out her assigned tunnel. She had no time to savor the delicious emptiness of the world, it felt like eating a rich dinner in a hurry as though it were just rough bread and beer, a waste of something precious. But she did not dare slow.

Her tunnel was beneath an old stone foot bridge on the edge of the Secound Round. Sleeping forms gathered under the bridge paid her no attention, even in her fancy clothes, as she slipped in the blackness of the tunnel and guided herself along the rough, cold brick walls. She traveled until she came to the first intersection, choosing to wait around the corner, crouched and waiting, willing herself to maintain sharp focus without drowsing in the darkness.

Shoulder pressed to the bricks, Maira keened her ears to every sound around her, peeking occasionally to check the small, round entrance. She studied the sound of the sleeping vagrants, the early morning breeze, and then, finally, the distant footsteps over her head. She peeked once more.

At the entrance, a cloaked form blocked out the dull pre-dawn light. Quick footsteps and soft, delicate flittering - more like a dragonfly than a bird - echoed off the bricks. The scarce light reflected the delicate outline of wings as the form came closer. Maira caught herself on the wall, heart stuck between her chest and her throat. She pressed harder to the wall, standing by slow degrees to avoid making noise. She even held her breath.

Vharoi mumbled to herself, half walking and half jogging, inefficient and clearly nervous. She passed Maira by at full bustle, so close that her cape brushed the back of Maira’s hand without her noticing. Maira pulled back into the intersecting tunnel and whispered at the talisman to activate it, buttoning up her jacket to disguise the bright glow.

The footsteps got distant, but still sounded. The next intersection - the next chance of losing her - was a long way off. She could afford to wait and hang back until she had sufficient distance to maintain cover. She prayed Naran wouldn’t teleport in until they were out of the tunnel and had a better idea of Vharoi’s final destination.

Maira stayed close to the wall and low to the chase, following at the farthest possible distance, breathing through her nose for fear even a gasp would give her away. They went straight on, passing three other intersections which would have taken Vharoi east or west. Those neighborhoods were actually closer to the edge of the city than her chosen route. She seemed to be going directly northeast, aiming to follow this tunnel all the way to the Dhatan extension into the border between the Asna’isi and Pahali Tracts.

Maira curled her lips in to contain her gasp of shocked, sudden realization. She thought of the argument at Lord Shadow’s table, the tales of the old Sky War and swallowed down the fear so she wouldn’t choke as her chest spasmed with fear.

So that was the plan: let the demons in to wreak terrible destruction and set the Asna’isi and Pahali at each other’s throats, each blaming the other. Neither would back down and war would come, even more terrible than the demons.

In the darkness, her mind whirled, thinking of Shadow’s black wings spread like death’s own coming and of Walksbetween taking up dagger, sword, and arrow again, lighting the air with unbearable, incendiary fires. Yena and Graymere would fight again. Maira winced at the mere thought of them hurting each other and flashed her teeth in a scowl Vharoi couldn’t see. For a moment, she contemplated racing ahead and jumping Vharoi, testing how much strength those fragile wings could withstand, but did not.

She held her peace and her slow pace until they reached the light from the tunnel’s end. So it was true. Vharoi was going to the Pahali Tract, at the tiny border where the two fingers of Tract land touched for a mere quarter of a mile. However, she did not go into the light, but rather took the stairs leading to the lower level tunnels. Maira let the Councilor clear the stars before she took to them herself, hurrying into the earthy, damp darkness below.

The lower tunnels were graced with dim lighting the Dhatan had put into the floor, thread thin lines that gave enough illumination to guide someone without making anything else really visible. The walls were wet and slick, the ground so soft that it swallowed the sound of footsteps entirely. Maira used the advantage to get closer, afraid of losing Vharoi so close to the end. If the councilor had bothered to be quiet for a moment, that might have happened, but she still muttered to herself furiously and buzzed her wings.

The tunnel stopped in steep steps. Maira waited there was well and then raced up them, thighs burning at the exertion. The moment she emerged on the first level tunnel, she put herself to the wall and sidestepped along it into the dawning morning like. They were definitely in the Pahali Tract now, and on mostly open ground in an empty district of what looked like theatres and arenas. A round bowl of a tournament auditorium dominated the landscape in the distance. Closer was an open air stage. By Maira’s reckoning, they were less than half a mile from the wards.

The plan was more insidious considering this. At a busy time — a holiday or a rest day — the casualties from a demon onslaught would have been horrendously high, especially for any Pahali that couldn’t get aloft. The sick, very elderly, very young and wingless Rok would have been most endangered. This was a strike at innocent civilians when they least expected it.

No peace could possibly be preserved after such an act. The Pahali would want - no, need - war. They would have it from whatever convenient source was near and for so many, the old grievances against the Asna’isi were still in living memory.

The councilor remained careless, and though Maira used the cover of trees and structures to sneak along behind her, she did not look back once as she threw off the hook of her cloak, shaking out sea green hair. She pulled out a long, curved instrumental horn and another object. It was hard to see, the size of a large roundfruit with sharp metal edges that glinted in the blue morning light. Vharoi turned it over in her hand and held it by a sharp protruding pole coming from it’s center. She turned it in her hand, making the center of the object clear.

A green jewel.

Maira froze, stopped by panic and wondering why Naran hadn’t shown up yet when Vharoi was this close to the wards. Past the last street was a bridge marking the edge of the district and an open field. In the distance, a line of wild trees. Maira ducked behind a bridge pillar and took out the talisman, fractically whispering the word three more times. It pulsed again when she spoke, but nothing changed. Naran didn’t appear.

On instinct, she crouched and watched. Vharoi abandoned her cloak in the field and marched through the knee-high golden-brown grasses. At a point known only to her, she stopped and put the horn to her lips. A thin, reedy wail sounded on the breeze, louder than Maira would have expected.

When the sound finally died, the air around Vharoi lit up golden white. Seven forms appeared, teleporting around her. They were a mixed bunch. Two were Tsaqa, one a winged Pahali-Dhatan Rok, another an Asna’isi, and two were either human or Rok, too distant for clear identification. They all carried mechanical pieces with them. Maira let a whispered curse word slip, directed at Naran for not being there.

“Please, Naran, I can’t do this myself, I can’t,” she mumbled, digging her fingers into the stone frowning desperately. How long should she wait, how long could she?

The air behind her popped and she startled, hugging the column, until she recognized Naran. He moved quick, crouching side her.

“Where the fuck were you?” she hissed.

“I had to make some jumps, I’ll explain later,” he said. “I’m sorry!”

She shook her head. No time for fighting now. “There’s seven with the councilor. We have to stop them now. Tell me what to do,” she begged, grabbing in fists and getting in his face.

“I know, just stay here, I can bring the others much quicker. Don’t do anything.”

“We don’t have time!”

He teleported away and she drew the small, insufficient ceremonial knife she’d been allowed with her garb. Vharoi and her seven accomplices finished talking. Now they started assembling something in the field. Maira rose against the pillar, moving her weight nervously from foot to foot. Their time would come down to seconds, she felt it. She prayed each moment for them to go slower, for their construction to go wrong, but it didn’t. They moved efficiently. They had practiced and planned this, clearly.

They added component on component until they’d build a tall, thin base twice a person’s height topped by a round wheel with pointed spikes on it’s rim and a green jewel at it’s center.

Councilor Vharoi, too short to reach, lifted up on her wings and touched a spike. The brief contact set it spinning so quickly it blurred. Maira thought - hoped - the entire contraption would spin itself apart. Vharoi shouted something and touched ground again. The other seven scattered, getting away from the device. She went toward the invisible line of the ward, towards the wild green trees, sounding her call with the horn over and over again.

Crackling green lightning shot from the wheel’s center, white smoke puffed from it. The air by the trees rippled in both directions, up and down the ward’s length, as if still water had been rippled and the image were only a reflection in a pond.

The trees themselves shook in a wind that did not blow on the city side. Even from her distance, the furious rustling reached Maira’s ears. The angry, ravenous forest woke, she thought, until she saw the gray forms emerging from between the trees, making their way to the very last inch of the Undominated Lands, summoned by trumpet calls.

Behind the councilor, the wheel spun faster and faster, generating more wicked green lightning that struck at the invisible wards over and over.

Time was up. She’d waited too long for Naran. Maira raised her blade, gathered herself with a breath and charged into the field quietly, keeping low. She had to get as close to the machine as possible. Halfway there, one of the seven spotted her. With a loud cry, they alerted the others and eight angry faces turned in her direction. she had waited too long here, hoping for Naran’s return. She had no way to fight them all, but she ran to meet her fate with her knife raised higher. They were going to rip her to pieces, but they’d given her just enough distance to get within throwing distance of the machine.

They would rip her to pieces, but she would throw her knife before she did and if it landed true, it might disrupt or destroy the thing that attacked the wards. The first three came close enough for her to see the colors of their eyes, the textures of their skin and wings, hear their breathing. The closest, the Dhatan-Pahali Rok reached out and before they fell on her, she threw the knife, high and hard and with all her strength.

Post a comment in response:

If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

If you are unable to use this captcha for any reason, please contact us by email at support@dreamwidth.org