The Guns of Empire (49 page)

“I had guessed . . . some of this,” he said when she was done. “We are isolated here, but not so completely as it might appear. There had always been a rumor—more of a legend now—that one of the greatest of the Mages fled to
Khandar with her archives after the fall of the Demon King. The Priests of the Black have tried several times to reach it without success.”

“The Thousand Names,” Winter said, looking at the tablets all around them.

“This is another archive,” the old man said. “A smaller one, though it contains the names of several powerful creatures. The ancient Mages wanted their records to last and to be difficult to steal.”

“So some of these Mages made it to Khandar, and then the archive fell into the hands of the cultists?”

“From your story, I would guess that it was more of a transformation of the one into the other. Traditions change as they are passed down, unless you live apart from the world as we do here.” He shook his head. “I would love to meet this Feor.”

“That can probably be arranged.” The thought snapped Winter back to reality. “If you're willing to let us go, that is.”

“I think I have no choice. If Vhalnich has the Thousand Names, he—or his allies, if he dies—might be able to challenge the Church.” He sighed. “My ancestors may have burned for revenge against Ligamenti and his Purifiers, but all I want is to keep my people safe. We have built a home here. But . . .”

“But?”

“The Beast.” He poked the fire. “The vigil
must
be maintained. One reason my ancestors felt the Purifiers were misguided was that if knowledge of sorcery faded from the world, as Ligamenti claimed it must, then the understanding of the need to keep up the watch might fade as well. The Priests of the Black have banished demons to history and children's stories, but the Beast of Judgment is
real
. If they fall, if their order is destroyed, then it will return. Not immediately—the Beast is powerful, and it can enter our world on its own only with great difficulty. But it
will
come, one year or another, and we will not be able to stop it again.”

“I don't know if Janus knows all this,” Winter said. “But I'm certain that he wouldn't want to release the Beast of Judgment. He doesn't want to annihilate humanity.”

“If I offer you our help, this is my price. You must convince him to take on this responsibility. Will you swear to that?”

“I will,” Winter said. She was surprised at how easily the words came. The Eldest's sincerity was apparent, and she couldn't see how lying to her would help him.
Besides, if we take Elysium, we'll get the truth either way.
If there
was
something
there that could destroy mankind, she was sure Janus would agree that keeping it locked up was only common sense.

“Then you will have our aid, such as it is,” the old man said. He stood and stretched, back popping audibly. “There are ways into Elysium that have been forgotten for a thousand years. And I'm sure Alex will wish to come with you.”

“Is she one of yours?” Winter said. “Did she get her demon from here?”

“Oh, no.” The Eldest gave a sad smile. “From time to time we take in strays. Wild demon-hosts, those who have fled the Priests of the Black and their Penitent Damned. Alex and Abraham both came to us that way, together.”

“The Penitent Damned.” That had been bothering Winter. “You said Ligamenti and the Purifiers rejected the use of demons. Why do the Black Priests use them now?”

“Hypocrisy and hairsplitting.” The old man rolled his eyes. “Ligamenti at least had the courage to reject sorcery outright, in spite of its advantages. Later generations were not so stalwart. They rationalized that while hosting a demon results in unalterable damnation, that sacrifice could be justified—a few souls condemned to eternal torment in exchange for many saved from the endless fires. The Penitent Damned are those who have willingly given up their chance at a reward in the next life in order to help the Church in this one.” He shook his head. “I don't know whether to laugh at them or take pity on those whose self-loathing rises to such a pitch.”

“The Mages don't believe carrying a demon means damnation?”

“Of course not,” the Eldest said gently. “Some children are
born
with demons, remember? Can you look at a sleeping infant and honestly tell me that God would condemn that babe to hell for such an accident? No. God judges us for our
actions
, however we carry them out. A demon can be used for evil, just as a sword can. But it can be used for good, too.”

Winter, never particularly religious, had always been uncertain whether she really believed in heaven and hell. But with Infernivore wrapped around her soul, it was nice to know that there was more than one opinion on the subject.

The Eldest led the way back, following a different path. He brought her to a curtained doorway, which led into a large hall on the ground level, open to the outside with more arrow-slit windows. A number of Mountain people were gathered, in their colorful wool robes, surrounding a small knot of Vordanai. Winter's chest relaxed slightly at the sight of Bobby, Red, and the rest of the Girls' Own soldiers, who were trying to converse with a number of young Mountain men in a fractured pidgin of three or four different languages.

“Winter!” Bobby jumped to her feet as they entered, pushing through the crowd. She didn't bother with a salute, but wrapped Winter in a hug so powerful Winter felt her ribs creak. “Are you all right?”

“I will be, if you let go of me,” Winter said.

“I told them I wanted to see you, but none of them seemed to understand,” Bobby said, stepping back. “They haven't treated us badly, though. There's food, and . . .” She lowered her voice. “One of them can heal wounds. He brought down Ivers' fever and closed the arrow cut on Varner's leg.”

“I know. He saw to my hand, too.” She held up her fresh pink fingers.

“Alex keeps telling us to wait. Do you even know where we
are
? Why is it so warm?”

Winter glanced at the Eldest. “He hasn't explained that, actually. But I told him what we're here to do, and they're going to help us get into Elysium.”

Bobby gave a relieved sigh. “Glad to hear it, sir. I was hoping we wouldn't have to fight our way out. There are a lot of kids here.” She whispered again. “A few other demons, too, I think.”

“It'll be all right,” Winter said. “We're all on the same side. I think.”

“I was surprised when they told me about your followers,” the Eldest said in Hamveltai, coming up beside Winter. “Are all soldiers in Vordan women?”

“Not
all
,” Winter said. “But some. A few.”

“Among some of the northern tribes, the women fight alongside the men,” the Eldest mused. “And of course the Tyrant's Legions infamously took anyone willing to serve.” He smiled at Winter. “One advantage of standing apart from the world is that you can see how the wheel of history turns and turns again.”

“Who's he?” Bobby said. Her Hamveltai was as weak as her Murnskai. For a moment Winter wished Cyte were here, with her gift for languages.
And how she would have loved talking to the Eldest about his wheel of history.
She pushed the thought aside. Cyte was—hopefully—safe, back in the Grand Army's camp.
I wouldn't wish what we went through to get here on anybody.

“He's in charge here,” Winter said in Vordanai. “Sort of a head priest, I think.”

“Oh!” Bobby offered the Eldest an awkward bow, which he returned. “Tell him thanks for the food.”

“It's nothing,” the old man said, when Winter translated. “The Mountain is generous with us.”

The other soldiers had drifted over by now, and Winter found herself pressed into service as a makeshift translator for the next hour, rendering Vordanai into
an ugly mix of Murnskai and Hamveltai. These seemed to be the primary and secondary languages of the Mountain, respectively, though their pronunciation of the latter was a little odd compared to the Velt dialect Winter had learned. The Mountain people were eager for news of the world, though Winter was surprised to find they were remarkably up to date in their knowledge of the outside.

“Eldest!” The curtained door flew open, and a girl in her midteens came in. She wore a long shirt and leather pants instead of the usual robes, and her dark hair was tied in two long pigtails. “Eldest, I have news—” She stopped, eyes widening as she saw the outsiders.

“As do I,” the Eldest said. “Welcome back, Snowfox.”

“Who are these people?” The girl's eyes narrowed as she looked at Winter. Winter concentrated hard in return, but Infernivore showed no interest.
She doesn't have a demon. So why is she picking me out?

“Let me explain,” the Eldest said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Winter, I will send for you in perhaps an hour. It has been a long day, I realize, but from what you have told me time is of the essence.”

“Thank you, Eldest,” Winter said.

With a final suspicious look from the girl, the two of them left the room.

“What was that about?” Bobby asked.

“Damned if I know,” Winter said.

—

The boy was about five years old, his hair a white blond almost as light as Winter's. He hid behind his mother, peeking around the edge of her skirts. The woman had the pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes of most Murnskai, which made the boy's features all the more arresting; in addition to his mop of golden hair, his eyes were a bright, shining yellow, like the eyes of a cat caught in a lantern's glare.

“He read the name of a demon?” Winter said. The woman spoke only Murnskai, so the conversation was a slow and inexact affair. “Really?”

“Yes. The Eldest said that of all the young ones, he was the best—” And then a word Winter didn't understand.
Candidate? Sacrifice?
“The Sunbringer prefers children as its hosts.”

“You weren't afraid that it would hurt him?” Winter said.

“Of course I was.” She pulled the boy close with one arm and gave him a squeeze. “But someone must bear the burden if we are to survive. Besides, the
Sunbringer is one of the gentlest of demons. And Rimi has always been a bright child. It took him barely a month to learn its name.”

“Ivn-fa-toth!”
the boy said. His mother grinned and ruffled his hair.

“That kid keeps the whole valley warm?” Bobby said.

When Winter translated, the Mountain woman nodded. “Rimi visits the wards spread around the edges of the valley once a year and renews their power. He and Snowfox keep us safe and happy here.”

“Happy,” the boy agreed solemnly.

There was a rustle in the curtained doorway, and Alex appeared. Rimi gave a happy cry and rushed over to her.

“Hello, Rimi,” Alex said.

“Alex! Can we swing?”

At Winter's questioning glance, Alex blushed slightly. “The kids like it when I use my power to swing them along the cliffs.” She glared at Winter as though daring her to comment.

“That sounds like fun,” Winter said, a little awkwardly.

“Not now, Rimi,” Alex said. “I need to take Winter and Bobby to see the Eldest. Stay here with your mother, and we can swing later, okay?”

After detaching the child, which took some effort, Alex led Winter and Bobby through the maze of corridors the Mountain people had carved into the rock. They followed the same staircase Winter had taken the last time, to the room where she'd been introduced to the Eldest, which she gathered was some kind of inner sanctuary.

“I think I understand a little better what it might have cost you to bring us here,” Winter said as they climbed. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Yes,” Alex said. “Well. I couldn't just leave you to die, could I?”

“You could have.”

“I'm just glad you managed to come to an accommodation with the Eldest,” she said.

“How long have you been living here?”

“Half a year or so. They saved us from the Priests of the Black.” Alex shuddered slightly. “Abraham seemed happy to just settle down, but I couldn't stand it. When I heard about Janus, I went to find him.” She frowned. “I'm sorry I couldn't tell you all this before.”

“I understand.” Winter grinned. “Given how it turned out, I can hardly complain, can I?”

They reached the big room, where they found the Eldest waiting. Beside him was the girl Winter had seen earlier and the young priest they'd called Maxwell. The six of them sat on pillows in a rough circle. Alex, beside Bobby, kept up a running translation for her benefit.

“Snowfox,” the Eldest said, “I want you to tell Winter and the others what you saw.”

The girl still looked suspicious, but she nodded. “I was on one of my regular routes, swinging around the south end of Elysium. When I saw there was a lot of activity, I stayed to watch. People were leaving, a
lot
of people. They had wagons, horses, mules, everything.”

“Which way were they going?” Maxwell said.

“Southeast,” Snowfox said.

“That's the Mohkba road,” Alex said for Winter and Bobby's benefit. “It goes south to the pass, then east to the capital.”

“How many people, exactly?” Maxwell pressed. “Dozens? A hundred?”

“A lot more than that,” Snowfox said. “Thousands.”

“It can't have been
thousands
,” Maxwell said. “There aren't that many people
in
Elysium. The Priests of the White and Red can't be more than ten thousand altogether.”

“I didn't
count
them,” the girl said. “But I know what I saw.”

“I believe her,” the Eldest said. “And I can think of only one explanation. The Church thinks Vhalnich's army will reach Elysium, and they are fleeing beyond his reach.”