Nothing.
It made a little circle before the door, reared up again and pushed.
Nothing.
The third time, with the door still stubborn, it started around the room again, and Kendall heard Rennyn let out her breath.
The rescue party waited, still wordlessly, until the constructs had followed the same pattern three times over. Finally, Captain Faille said: "Next patrol."
They moved, repeated the exercise with all the same knotted-stomach tension, and then circled back to the entrance.
"Now we get to the guesswork and luck?" Kendall said, as Lieutenant Meniar flipped the slate and read over, for the half-thousandth time, the apparently tricky Sigillic Rennyn had come up with to get through the shield.
"I should think the Sigillic will work," Rennyn said.
"I wasn’t talking about getting in. What do we do once we’re in, when something goes wrong?"
"Well, don’t sit in one place for an extended period of time, for a start. But that’s why I’ve written the shield Sigillic on the reverse of each slate—any mage should be able to cast it, including you, Kendall, should it be necessary to run."
Kendall stared at Rennyn, then let her face show exactly what she thought of that. But there was no use pointing out that it might have helped if Kendall had even once been allowed to practice casting Sigillics before they stepped on the ant’s nest.
"I agree that it’s best to investigate the heart of the garden before working on freeing the mages," Rennyn was saying. "I’ve too many guesses on what we might find there to suggest an ideal approach."
"We will avoid conflict if we can," Darian Faille said. "But at this stage I would recommend responding to a direct attack decisively. We will attempt to take attackers alive, however."
Wondering if Captain Faille would try to fight while holding Rennyn, Kendall let herself be shuffled into a Sentene defensive formation, with Darian Faille and Sukata taking lead, and Tesin in the rear to catch any attackers coming up behind them. Unable to think of anything more useful, Kendall picked up a rock to throw if they did get to fighting.
She listened to the way the sound of the shield changed as Lieutenant Meniar cast, and made sure to step forward with everyone else when he was done, since the longer he held open the shield, the more tired he’d get. Her shoes crunched over something, and Kendall looked down to see glass, and had to push away a vision of Sukata, shattered into pieces and trampled upon. Even the first Kellian had been nothing like these bug-caterpillar-things. So far as Kendall could make out, once the Black Queen wasn’t around to give them commands, the first Kellian had been a lot like babies—deadly, six-foot, clawed babies—who just needed some time to start wanting more than to be told what to do next.
They walked down the entry ramp and then paused, listening. The play of magic was distracting, making it harder to focus on ordinary noise, and the whole place felt heavy and a bit wet. A lot warmer than it had been outside the shield, too. It smelt like a hothouse.
"An experiment first, please," the Imperial Smugness said, and pressed his hand against a relatively clear spot on the nearest wall. "And you as well, Lieutenant, and perhaps Sukata and young Tesin."
No surprise that the ivy didn’t even seem to notice Tesin, while almost immediately reaching out tiny little white threads toward Lieutenant Meniar and Sukata. Kendall stared hardest at the last hand, Samarin’s, and saw that the ivy did react to him, but only after a much longer pause.
"You might want to mind your ankles," Rennyn said.
Kendall looked down and saw that the little filaments were reaching toward her feet. In one mutual shudder, everyone moved, even those who didn’t have any mage ability. Even Captain Faille. It was like the place was trying to eat them.
"Let’s not linger," Samarin said. "Direct to the centre."
Direct didn’t mean all that fast, and Kendall’s headache started back up with the thrum, thrum, thrum of the place. Corridor, fountain courtyard, corridor. The garden wasn’t really all that big, and with the glass bugs shut away like the mages, there wasn’t anything but ivy and old stone. As they slowed near the open central space, everything felt like it was pressing down.
The last time Kendall had felt like this, it had been when the Black Queen had succeeded in her Grand Summoning, and a whole mountain of power had squashed down into the one place. This wasn’t even a tenth so bad, but it was the strongest casting Kendall had felt since that time.
"Not an attack," Captain Faille said.
"Around what I’d expect of twenty or thirty strong mages in a joined casting," Rennyn said, sounding more interested than anything else. "I’m still not clear on the intent, though, yes, definitely not an attack. The focal point is directly ahead. Is that…?"
"Statue, not person," Darian Faille said briefly.
Another step or two made this less cryptic. In the middle of the next courtyard was a statue instead of a fountain. It wasn’t nearly as worn as the ones out by the lake, though it seemed a similar enough shape. A tall woman with long braided hair, wearing a robe. She held her hands out before her, cupped together, as if praying to the Dawnbringer.
And nothing much else. A lot less ivy. The walls were almost clear of it, revealing swirling patterns etched in the stone, but there were roots growing neatly in channels leading directly to the base of the statue.
Rennyn murmured something to Captain Faille, and he took her up close to one of the walls.
"I shall be most impressed if you’re able to read proto-Efanian, Duchess Surclere," the Imperial Smugness said.
"Unfortunately not," Rennyn replied. "But this, I think, is Nameen’s Walk. It is strong enough, and has been used often enough recently, for me to make out the shape of the casting.
"What in the Hells is proto-Efanian?" Kendall asked.
"The name given to the casting language used by the Elder Mages," Sukata said, her whispery voice making clear she was impressed. "No-one knows how to read its written form."
"I could reconstruct this, I think," Rennyn added, sounding pleased. "Well, with a lot more strength I could." She paused. "I think my focus is somewhere in this room. I can feel it."
The Imperial Smugness fished his mask out from its big inner pocket, and put it on before surveying the room again. If he really couldn’t cast, maybe the mask was the reason he seemed able to hear as well as a Kellian. Whatever the case, Kendall would still bet he was a liar.
He glanced her way, so she glared at him, then concentrated on finding Rennyn’s focus. Not on a chain around the statue’s neck, which would have been too convenient—and worrying. There were precious few places to put things in the open courtyard, unless there was a hidden cache beneath the paving stones.
They all looked a little ridiculous, pacing about while still acting like they expected the jaws of some trap to swing shut at any moment. It was the Pest, entirely out of place in his grubby bedclothes, who stooped and plucked a chain out from among the roots that filled the channels leading to the statue. From the chain, in a little wire holder, was a clear stone almost the size of a hen’s egg.
"Belonging to one of the other mages?" Rennyn said. "Can this casting actually be able to make use of our focuses?"
While Darian Faille stood guard, and Rennyn continued to study the decorated walls, everyone else scrabbled about pulling focus after focus from among the roots. The first was joined by another, and another, and became a pile. Kendall shrugged off her jacket and they used it as a makeshift bag.