What was the result? Now, when the Orb is back, sorcery has grown so strong from the new skills that what was
inconceivable before the Interregnum, and impossible during it, is now commonplace. Teleportation on such a level
that some fear it will replace trade by ship and road. War magics so strong that some believe the individual fighter
will soon become a thing of the past. Even resurrection of the dead has become possib—"
"What has this to do with Kelly?"
"Eh? My apologies, impatient Easterner. Things were discovered by your people, during that time, things that
go all the way back to those who first discovered this world."
"The Jenoine?"
"Before the Jenoine."
"Who—?"
"It doesn't matter. But ideas that have been preserved far too long, and from another place, lay dormant until then. And even when they were unearthed, no one understood them for nearly two hundred years, until this Kelly-"
"Goddess, I don't understand."
She sighed. "Kelly has his hands on the truth about the way a society works, about where the power is, and the cause of the injustice he sees. But it is truth for another time and another place. He has built an organization around these ideas, and because of their truth, his organization prospers. But the truth he has based his policies on, the fuel for this fire he is building, has no such strength in the Empire. Perhaps in ten thousand years, or a hundred thousand, but not now. And by proceeding as he has, he is setting up his people to be massacred. Do you understand? He is building a world of ideas with no foundation beneath them. When they collapse ..." Her voice trailed off.
"Why don't you tell him so?"
"I have. He doesn't believe me."
"Why don't you kill him?"
"You don't kill ideas like that by killing the one who espouses them. As fertilizer aids the growth of the tree, so does blood—"
"So," I said, "you decided to start a war, thinking they'd march off and forget their grievances so they could fight for their homeland? That doesn't—"
"Kelly," she said, "is smarter than I thought he was, curse him. He's smart enough to destroy every Easterner, and most of the Teckla, in South Adrilankha."
"What are you going to do?"
"Consider the matter," she said.
"And what do you want me to do?"
"I'm sending you home at once. I need to consider this." She gestured with her right hand, and I found myself, once more, before a window in Morrolan's tower. The window looked upon the face of the Demon Goddess, who stared at me and said, "Try to stay out of trouble, will you?"
The window faded to black.
Lesson Nine
MAKING FRIENDS I
Morrolan and Aliera were where I'd left them, Norathar had gone. I checked through the Orb and discovered that I'd been gone less than two hours, and most of that time had been taken up walking to and from the tower. I sat down and said, "I'll take that refill of wine now."
Morrolan poured it and said, "Well?"
"Well what?"
"What happened? I should judge that you have just had a moving experience of some sort."
"Yes. Well. I suppose. I haven't discovered anything that will help get Cawti out of the Imperial Dungeons."
Aliera shifted. "Did you see Verra?"
"Yes."
"What did she say, then?"
"Many things, Aliera. It doesn't matter."
Morrolan considered me, probably wondering whether he ought to push for more information. I guess he decided not to. Aliera was frowning.
"Well, then," said Aliera, after a moment. "We're back to planning another jailbreak. We've been doing quite a bit of that lately. I wonder if the Cards would have predicted it, had I thought to attempt a reading."
"I don't think a jailbreak is in order," I said.
Aliera turned her blue eyes on me. "Why not?"
"If Cawti won't accept an Imperial pardon, what makes you think she'll accept being broken out by force?"
Aliera shrugged. "We'll have to get the whole batch of them, that's all."
I shook my head. "I don't think they'll go. I think they want to stay in prison until they're all released together."
"What makes you think so?"
"I've spoken to them. That's how they think."
"They're nuts," said Aliera.
"That's more true than you know," I said. "Or less."
"And so," said Morrolan, who had never looked happy about the notion of breaking into the Imperial Dungeons, "what do you suggest?"
"I'm not certain. I'll have to think about it. But I know what I'm going to do first: find out just what, by the blood on Verra's floor, is going on in South Adrilankha."
"Blood on Verra's floor?" said Morrolan. "I don't think I've heard that oath before."
"No," I said. "You probably haven't."
The next day was going to be short. That is, it was the day before the Festival of the New Year, so most people quit working around noon. I kept all of my people working, since Holy Days are some of our best times, but I gave them all bonuses. I had no idea if either of the people I needed to see was going to be working all day, some of the day, or not at all, so I awoke much earlier than usual. I broke my fast and spent some time throwing things for the jhereg to snatch out of the air and fight over. "Loiosh, Rocza seems funny. Is she pregnant?" "Huh? No, boss. At least, I don't think so. I mean, the way things work—"
"Never mind. What is it, then?"
"Well you know she's been a little closer to Cawti than I have, so, I mean-"
"Oh, I get it. All right."
I slugged down my klava, dressed, collected Loiosh and Rocza, and headed out for my first errand. Aibynn was in the blue room but hadn't stirred. I envied him.
Kelly's group had moved twice since the last time I'd visited their headquarters, and this last place was a great deal different from the others. Up until now they'd met in a flat that two or three of them lived in, but they'd recently found an empty storefront not too far from one of the farmer's markets that appeared irregularly all over South Adrilankha. Whatever windows it once had were boarded up, either as a painfully inadequate defensive gesture or because they couldn't afford oiled paper or window glass. I stood there for a while and considered. As always when visiting the Easterners' part of town, I felt a slight relaxation of tension, but this time it was hardly noticeable as I studied the low, wood-frame building.
It was pretty obvious, once you got near it, both for the banner hung across the front that read "Stop Press Gangs!" and for the troop of Phoenix Guards who stood across the street from it, silent and ominous, ignoring the dirty looks they got from passersby. As Cawti had said, they all seemed to be Dragonlords and Dzur. That is, they were professionals, not conscripted Teckla, which meant there'd be no reasoning with them, and they'd fight well.
But never mind that. I watched from down the street where I could keep an eye on both the Phoenix Guards and whoever went through the door of the storefront. Eventually someone I recognized went in. I left my place, waved cheerfully to the goldcloaks, and followed him in.
He greeted me with all the warmth I remembered from our previous encounters. "You," he said.
"My dear Paresh," I told him. "How is it that they didn't arrest you, too? No, no, let me guess. They only hauled in the Easterners. Either they decided that a Dragaeran, even if a Teckla, doesn't deserve prison, or they decided that a Teckla, even if a Dragaeran, must be harmless. Am I right?"
"What do you want?"
"My wife back. How do you propose to get her out of prison?"
"We will be giving a demonstration of our strength tomorrow. We expect five thousand Easterners and Teckla, all of them committed to fighting until conscription stops and our friends are released. Many of them are determined to fight until the Empire itself is run by us, and for us. Do you have all that, or shall I repeat it?"
"I'll read it back to you: You aren't doing anything except shouting at each other about how mad you are and hoping the Empress laughs herself to death."