The Ascendancy Veil (23 page)

‘There is another alternative,’ said Cailin. ‘To strike at the witchstones.’

‘It has been tried,’ Hikken said. ‘At Utraxxa. And it failed.’

‘No,’ Cailin replied. ‘At Utraxxa we underestimated the Weavers. But their reaction indicates that we
would
have succeeded if we had been given a chance.’

‘Perhaps you could explain for the benefit of our guests and our audience?’ Kaiku prompted politely. The Tkiurathi had not spoken, except to mutter translations to each other. They knew little about the state of affairs in Saramyr, and were content to listen and learn.

Cailin inclined her head in acknowledgement. ‘When we finally mustered the strength to assault the Weaver monastery that lay in the mountains west of here, across Lake Xemit, the Red Order had another plan in mind beyond simply destroying the witchstone there and ridding us of the blight. We intended to engage the witchstone, to learn about it. Through our own observations of how the Weavers’ power grew with each stone awakened, and the information Lucia gleaned from the spirit of Alskain Mar in the Xarana Fault, we had determined that all the stones were connected in a manner similar to a net or a web. We believed that we could exploit that link, trace it to the other witchstones and destroy them, too. Instead of one victory, we would win them all at once.’

The assembly did not make a sound; only the faint sussuration of the wind could be heard. The temperature was dropping now that Nuki’s light had fled the sky, settling towards a level that was cool but not unpleasant.

‘We never got the chance. Just before we penetrated the chamber where the witchstone lay, it was destroyed. We can only assume that the Weavers used explosives. It was something we would never have expected them to do: they had always prized the witchstones’ welfare above even their own lives. They were protecting the network by removing our way in.’ She swept her gaze across the assembly then, and her tone became fiercer. ‘But I say it was
not
a failure. We were close enough to glimpse the witchstone’s nature as it came apart. Two years have passed since then, and we have not wasted that time. We have studied what we learned at Utraxxa, and we are more ready than ever now to engage a witchstone again. And this time we will destroy them all.’

Kaiku felt a thrill at the determination in her voice. Gods, the promise of action after so long in hiding or retreat or stalemate was enticing to her.

‘And how do you propose to stop yourself becoming . . . cut off, as before?’ Mishani asked.

Cailin settled herself again. ‘The Red Order have reconstructed the network we observed between the witchstones and examined it. There is no stone that cannot be sacrificed, but there is one which will seriously damage the structure if it falls: the hub, if you will. As the Nexuses are the anchor for the beasts they control, so this stone is the anchor for the other stones. The Weavers had plenty of time during our long assault on Utraxxa to prepare explosives. But I think they will be much more reluctant to destroy their hub, the most powerful node of them all. And if we catch them by surprise, they may not have
time
to destroy it. If we can get to it intact, we can use it as a way in to the network, and reach all the witchstones in one swoop.’

Kaiku’s skin prickled at the thought. Was there a chance, even so slim, that they could end this? She had not been at Utraxxa, having been reluctantly kept back by Cailin, but she had heard of the horrors that her brethren had experienced within. Could it be done? To go through the veins of their power structure, spreading like a virus?

‘Do you
know
this, or is it merely conjecture?’ Hikken asked. He was a prickly middle-aged man, with a deeply-etched face and prematurely grey hair, and his manner of speaking was aggressive and confrontational.

‘It is conjecture,’ Cailin admitted, spreading her hands to indicate helplessness. ‘But it is based on very educated guesswork. We have
seen
how these stones operate. This is not a wild theory, nor would we be rushing at this blindly. If it were to be done, it would be our second attempt, and we would not make the same mistakes twice.’

‘Where is this . . . anchor-stone?’ It was Tsata who spoke.

‘It is the first stone that was awakened,’ Cailin replied. ‘The one that started it all. It lies beneath the mountain monastery of Adderach.’

Hikken laughed rudely. ‘And how do you propose we
get
to Adderach? Even if it were not deep in the mountains, it is surely the most fiercely guarded stronghold the Weavers have!’

‘That is also conjecture,’ Phaeca put in. ‘We have no idea what awaits us at Adderach. Nobody has ever been there. I may remind the council that several times we have found the Weavers rely too much on their shields of misdirection and not on physical guards.’

‘Those were in the days before the Red Order became known to them,’ Mishani said.

‘But they may think themselves protected by the mountains,’ Phaeca argued. ‘They may not be able to get enough food to such a remote place to sustain an army. Who knows what the Weavers think?’

‘There are many ways to Adderach,’ said Cailin. ‘But none of them are easy.’

‘And you think the Weavers will not notice an army marching towards Adderach?’ Hikken cried. ‘How exactly
do
you intend to do it?’

‘We go quietly,’ Cailin replied. ‘And we—’

‘This is pointless!’ Lucia said suddenly. She had been customarily distracted up until this point, but she appeared entirely focused now. At the sound of her voice, everyone in the hall fell silent and looked to where she knelt.

‘Pointless,’ she repeated, softer this time. When she spoke, it was with surety and conviction, and she sounded like her mother the Empress. ‘Even if we did attack Adderach, even if we succeeded, in our absence the Weavers would cut a swathe through the Prefectures and cause such murder as would make any victory too costly. And if the Weavers discovered our plan, they need only send one of the demons to defend Adderach and all would be lost. Whatever our other intentions, we need to be able to tackle the feya-kori. And the only way to stop an entity like that is with a similar entity.’

She stood up, and when she spoke, her voice was stronger than Kaiku would have believed possible from such a slip of a woman.

‘It has been ten years since I was taken from the Imperial Keep in Axekami. Ten long years, and in that time there has been more blood shed for me than I dare think of. You have placed such hope in me and I have given you nothing in return but death. Now the time has come to live up to your expectations.’

She paused for a moment, and Kaiku noticed that even the spirits had quieted, and the ancient attention of the idols was on her.
Do not say it, Lucia
, she thought.
Do not do this
.

‘A friend once told me I was an avatar, placed here by the gods to do their will,’ she continued. ‘I do not know. But I know this: we can face these demons and beat them, but we can only do so with the aid of the spirits. The entities that have lived in this land since long before we ever came here. If the Weavers can raise an army of such beings, then so can I.’ She took a breath, and there was an infinitesimal tremor as she drew in the air, the only flicker of uncertainty that she showed.

‘I will go to the oldest and most powerful spirit that our lore knows, deep in the heart of the Forest of Xu. I will speak with that spirit, and rouse it to our banner. The soul of the land will rise to its own defence.’ Her voice was rising to a crescendo now. ‘We shall make such war as the gods themselves will tremble to see it!’

The explosion of noise from the crowd was earsplitting. Cheers and cries of support rang around the hall and floated up into the night sky. This was the sign they had waited for all this time: the call to arms, the moment when their saviour would enter the fray and turn the tide. They did not care whether such a plan was even feasible; all that mattered was that Lucia had taken a hand, and with that, she had become the leader they had so desperately needed.

But though the people around her rejoiced, Kaiku was silent. She knelt where she was, and looked up at where Lucia stood, so terribly frail in the face of this riotous adulation. A battle had been lost today. Lucia was theirs now, irrevocably; she had forsaken her last chance of turning away.

As if sensing her thoughts, Lucia’s eyes met hers, and in them was such sorrow as made Kaiku want to weep.

After that, there was little else to say.

The assembly dispersed with a sense that things had been left unfinished. Lucia’s announcement had effectively ended the conference. Kaiku saw Cailin muttering into Yugi’s ear, and she suspected that the seeds of action put forward today had only just begun to germinate. But diplomacy was not her strong suit, and she was content to leave it to people like Mishani, who appreciated the subtleties. She looked around for Nomoru, still worried about the scout’s intentions, but could not find her in the crowd. Instead, she led Tsata and the Tkiurathi out of the temple and into the cool night beyond.

‘We will go with you, if you will have us,’ Tsata said to Kaiku, as they came to the edge of the complex where the trail ran back towards the Tkiurathi village.

He was assuming that she would not let Lucia follow this course alone. And what was worse, Kaiku reflected, was that he was probably right.

‘Xu is no ordinary forest,’ Kaiku said. ‘The spirits hold sway there, and have done since before my people ever set foot on these shores.’ Her eyes were grave. ‘There is no more dangerous place in all of Saramyr for our kind.’

‘The more reason for you to take us,’ said Tsata.

Kaiku felt too weary to try and argue. She thanked them all – though she suspected by Tsata’s expression that she did not need to – and bade them farewell, leaving the offer open. She was not the one to make such decisions, and she had no intention of bearing the responsibility for their deaths inside the Forest of Xu. Only the gods knew what awaited them in there.

It occurred to her, as she walked back to her house in the Libera Dramach village downslope of the temple complex, that she was already thinking about the journey in terms of
when
she went, rather than
if
.

Heart’s blood, where did all my choices go?
she thought in a morose moment, then snorted with disgust at her own self-pity.

She shared a house with Mishani here at Araka Jo as she had in the Fold, though the two of them were rarely there at the same time, as turned out to be the case tonight. She presumed Mishani had gone elsewhere with other members of the assembly to continue their discussions privately. The house was near the building where the Red Order met and where most of the Sister had their rooms, but Kaiku had not felt comfortable with the idea of living there as Phaeca did: it felt too much like surrendering a part of herself. The place was relatively nondescript and a little cold in the wintertime, but Kaiku had given up on the idea of having a stable home at least until the war was over, and as long as she had a roof and a private space she was happy.

It felt empty tonight. She slid the outer door closed behind her and listened to the darkness for a time. Outside, night-insects were chirruping and clattering. She walked through to her bedroom. The glow of the lanterns rose gently as flames kindled in their wicks at her passing, sparked by a small and frivolous use of her
kana
. Cailin would have disapproved. Kaiku didn’t care.

Her bedroom was small: she only came here to sleep. There was a comfortable mat of woven, springy fibres, upon which was laid a thick blanket, and then a further blanket on top of that. Simple, unadorned, utilitarian. On the wall facing the curtained doorway was a mirror, an old one of Mishani’s; she caught her reflection, and thought how well the make-up of the Order hid the melancholy mood that had descended on her. Even now, she projected a certain aura of authority and aloofness. On the far side of her sleeping-mat were a pair of chests flanking a dressing-table with another mirror, and on one wall hung a scroll with a verse from Xalis, another donation from Mishani. Kaiku was terrible at decorating: it seemed so unimportant to her. Her interest was not in material things.

She had sat down at her dressing-table and was preparing to remove her make-up when she spotted the Mask. She saw it over the shoulder of her double in the small vanity mirror, leering at her from where it hung on the wall, and it startled her so badly that she jumped with a yelp and sent little wooden pots of lip-paint scattering noisily to the floor. She stared at it, meeting its empty gaze in the mirror. It stared back at her.

Her skin crawled. She could not remember putting it up there.

She got up and slowly walked over to it. Its face of red and black lacquer was mischievous, mocking.

‘Gods curse you,’ she whispered to it. ‘Leave me be.’

She took it down from where it hung on the wall. The contact of her hand brought a faint sense-memory of her father, the indefinable warmth of his presence. She bit back tears and put the Mask back in its chest.

Why couldn’t she just destroy it? Why put up with that malevolent, insidious lure night after night? She could not have said herself. Perhaps because it was the last piece of her father she had. Perhaps it was the practicalities involved: she had used it twice before to breach the Weavers’ barriers, and since the Weavers were still no wiser as to how she had done it, there was no reason it could not be used again. Cailin had made a brief stab at studying it, but there was little to learn beyond what the Sisters already knew. As True Masks went, it was young and weak and unremarkable, but no Sister dared probe too far into the workings of a True Mask, even one such as this. That way lay insanity.

Perhaps she kept it to remind her of what she was fighting against, and why she was fighting them. For this Mask had started it all for her: it had cost the lives of her family and set her adrift in the world. Until she found the Red Order; until she found another red and black mask to wear.