He said, ‘And now, it’s time for you to meet Lalie. She waits outside. Shall I bring her in? I may as well tell you now, she is an Inferno cultist. I use present tense as she’s not yet repented in my hearing.’
That also got their attention. Izven, Mayor of the one city in the world which allowed Inferno cultists to dwell within its walls, looked around at the others’ reaction and shook his head as though baffled by it. ‘Well yes, bring her in!’
‘And make her very welcome,’ said one of the others sarcastically. Izven, in his own opinion clearly more enlightened than they, rolled his eyes. The others smiled at his expense.
Lalie seemed not to know whether to snarl at the Mayors with her teeth bared, or to shyly say nothing and hide her face behind her hands. For their part, they stared at her baldly and waited. Anfen had tried to groom her for this, on top of all else he’d had to prepare, but it seemed that job had been poorly done. When she saw the Tormentor’s hand sticking up from the floor, she yelped and turned to run. Anfen grabbed her.
‘Come now,’ said Izven, smiling kindly at her — and he did have a kind face, alone among the Mayors: a small, soft-looking man who looked like he belonged among books, not planning wars. ‘You need not fear. I will bring you with me to Yinfel, where we have some of your people. There are rules, of course. Some rituals are not permitted within our walls, nor with our citizens, but you will not be hurt.’
The others rolled their eyes at this; yet another sore point, for no Yinfel law prevented the cultists using people of other cities in their rituals. After some more coaxing, Lalie told them what had happened.
Said the Mayor of Faifen, ‘It may be painful to you, dear, but what about their method of killing? I see the sharpness of its hand, but what makes them any worse than, say, men with swords?’
‘Everything slows down,’ Lalie said quietly. ‘It’s like you’re stuck in mud.’
‘Just by being near them?’
‘Not exactly. One reaches for you, and you run. But your legs feel very slow, and so does everything around you.’
‘And they move fast, while you move slowly?’
Lalie shut her eyes in concentration, remembering. ‘No … they move slowly, too. Time all jags around, fast, slow, so you lose balance too much to fight back or hide. And when they pull you apart and cut you to pieces, they do it slowly. But if you watch them do it to someone else, it looks normal speed.’
‘How do you know that? You seem unhurt.’
‘One reached for me. It hadn’t finished with the one it was already killing. I kind of … kind of slipped into … what seemed like a bubble of weird time. It did it slowly, just cutting him apart, and he looked like he could feel it all, over a long time-’ She didn’t finish.
‘How did you survive, dear?’
Lalie didn’t meet their gaze. ‘The High Priest was a big man. I was … I was his favourite. He saw it go for me, and he swung an axe and surprised it. He cut off that.’ She pointed to the hand sticking from the floor. ‘It killed the High Priest. But since it had only one hand left, the High Priest wasn’t as badly cut up as the others. There was enough of him left for me to … hide amongst his … his carcass.’ She swallowed. ‘I crawled in-’
‘That’s enough, dear, that’s enough. We see.’
They sent her out, leaving Anfen to tell them of the new mages, reliving his own trauma for their questions and clarifications, just as Lalie had. Said Ilgresi, ‘Our thanks, Anfen. May we have a summary of your thoughts before you leave us?’
If he hadn’t been so worn from the road, he would have made this speech impassioned and rousing, he knew. But he’d spoken for a long time now, and his voice sounded hollow and tired to his own ears, and, he was sure, to theirs. He said, ‘I believe we have found something that could turn the course of history. The castle rulers have one great fear. Thanks to the Invia and the Pilgrims, we have learned what it is. The Wall at World’s End must come down. I don’t yet know how, but from the Arch Mage’s own tongue, it can be done, and it fills them with dread. We will find a way to do it, if we combine our minds and our resolve. The invaders beyond your doorstep are a sign this war nears its end. Your cities have held out so far but they won’t hold out forever. With new mages on their way, the last seconds tick down.’
A heavy silence drew out. Anfen sensed their mood and his heart sank.
‘What would happen, if the Wall was destroyed?’ said Liha of Faifen. ‘What do we know?’
Anfen was forced to admit: ‘Nothing. We know nothing.’ Liha settled back in her chair as if that settled the discussion.
‘Correction,’ said Anfen, growing angry, ‘we know our victory is impossible as things stand. We know the heavy pendulum of this war swings against us. We know that if it does swing back against them, too much will have been left in ruin behind it for the old world to recover. One lunatic with the power they’re seeking could decide the rest of us are no longer needed. He could kill everyone in the world, and he just might. We know the doom of the Free Cities comes as certain and steadily as the night, and that if a time ever existed for drastic action — even with unpredictable results — it is now.’
‘What is on the other side of the Wall?’ said Liha, in tones a schoolteacher might use.
‘We don’t know,’ Anfen had to admit.
‘Yes. Well, there is talk these things, these … “Tormentors” come from that side. It is, of course, just talk. We simply don’t know.’ Again, maddeningly, she sat back in her seat: that’s settled, then.
‘Consider this,’ said Anfen. ‘The Arch Mage said he had already discovered a plot to do it. Since none of you knows of any such plot, it may be a figment of their paranoia, or it may be some hidden ally in an Aligned city, who has stumbled across knowledge we don’t have. But the castle considers it a plot we would consider. That means it cannot be as contrary to our interests as we may fear.’
Liha looked at him almost with pity. ‘We don’t know who their hypothetical plotters are. It may be some suicidal fool who wants the whole world brought to ash. It may have been a drunk on a street corner, a confession beaten out of a prisoner. It may be someone was misheard, it may be anyone at all. Or no one at all. And we are venturing, now, even further from what we know. I don’t think the matter even warrants a vote.’
The others were quiet. ‘We have not seen this charm you speak of,’ said Ilgresi at last.
‘Has my information seemed good to you, so far?’ said Anfen, though he knew it was hopeless. ‘A military action always has objectives and costs. Our cost is unknown. Our objective is to take away the power stolen from twelve cities and placed in one man’s hands.’
The Mayor of Yinfel, Izven, added: ‘The objective of leaving the Wall alone: not subjecting ourselves to some unknown consequences. The cost: Vous stays in power and one day claims all our cities. An unacceptable cost. I have heard enough. I vote in support of Anfen’s proposal.’ Anfen blinked, surprised. He waited.
Tanton and High Cliffs were two cities in sight of the Wall. Their Mayors had sat grim-faced, saying nothing, while the discussion unfolded. Anfen did not expect their support. Sure enough, High Cliffs Mayor Ousan’s voice was heavy with sarcasm: ‘How do you propose we do it? Have you seen the Wall, Anfen?’
‘I have never gone that far south.’
‘Then let me help you. It stretches from deep underground to the highest point in the sky. It runs so far belowground we are unable to tunnel beneath it. The Wall itself may be thin as a glass window, it may be thicker than a mountain. Stoneflesh giants stand before it and guard it. They allow nothing to get near them, even other stoneflesh giants.’