'The strong survive. Owain fears you will replace him. You still can. You can take his place, Edeard. You can shape the world to your vision. I would help you. We can be together yet.
Edeard looked at his wife. He looked at his friend Dinlay. He looked at his parents who had so much faith in him. 'I will not be Mayor, not now. And you; you will not be Pythia.
'Fool! Salrana screamed at him. She spun round and raced out of the bedroom.
Edeard realized that the ability to sense through concealment was not one of the gifts and treats Owain had bestowed upon her.
Arminal and his men charged into the hall. They started firing indiscriminately as they ran forwards. Bullets chewed up the walls, shredding the furniture. Muzzles blazed as they swept back and forth, seeking out the Waterwalker.
Salrana's shield wasn't strong enough. Eight bullets struck her as she flailed desperately. Huge blood plumes burst across her Novice robe. She was flung backwards; her body landing inelegantly on the elegant pavonazzeto floor to sprawl inertly. Her soul was already staring down at it.
Edeard dived behind the big bed, allowing the thick mattress to absorb the hail of bullets. Now, as the gang hurriedly swapped their exhausted magazines for fresh ones, he raised his head. 'I wish you well, he told Salrana's soul. 'I hope you find peace in the Heart.
'Edeard? she said. 'Oh Edeard, what have I done?
'Go, he told her. 'Find the Heart. I will join you there.
Her soul wavered, drifting up through the pavilion's ceiling. There was a final surge of distress, and she was gone.
Arminal finally slammed the fresh magazine into his rapid-fire gun, and brought it up. His farsight swept through the pavilion, eagerly searching for the Waterwalker.
The magazine suddenly crumpled, the thin metal buckling as an inordinately powerful telekinesis squeezed it. And the Water-walker materialized in the bedroom.
'Kill him, Arminal shouted at his squad. But their rapid-fire guns were equally useless as delicate components and casings were crushed and mangled.
'Last time we say goodbye, the Waterwalker told him.
Arminal hardened his shield, and turned to flee. The pavilion doors slammed shut with a bang that reverberated through the entire wooden structure. Arminal spun back to face his enemy, catching a glimpse of Edeard in the bedroom as his black cloak fluttered around him. Edeard held up both arms, his fingers splayed wide. Lightning ripped out from each fingertip.
Within seconds the entire pavilion was on fire. Joists, rafters, doors, walls, window frames, shelves, furniture and roofing shingles ignited as they were raked with lightning bolts. Thick black smoke swirled out from the roaring flames, clotting the air.
Edeard pushed the bedroom door open, and walked out on to the veranda. Inside, the squad were coughing and yelling in fright as the smoke clogged their lungs and the heat began to roast their flesh. The bedroom door closed. Edeard hopped over the rails and landed on the grassy field. Inside the pavilion, the squad were blundering into each other. Voices reached a crescendo of pain and fright; several had already fallen. Edeard folded his concealment around him like an outer cloak and walked away into the night.
The trusted Weapons Guild guards that Owain sent to eliminate the Waterwalker skirted the burning ruins of the pavilion. They wrinkled their noses up at the stench given off by the smouldering corpses inside, but carried on tracking their quarry. Several among them claimed to be able to perceive right through the Waterwalker's concealment, and hurried after the dark figure they said skulked through the trees just up ahead.
At the bottom of the mountain, the militia regiments completed their deployment, forming a tight ring just outside the fringes of the forest. As ordered, they drew their pistols and waited. Farsight tracked the squads high up on the slopes past the smoking pavilion. Occasionally there was a burst of gunfire that made them flinch. But the guards armed with their deadly new guns pressed onwards and upwards.
Edeard kept ahead of them easily enough. He'd only headed up because there was nowhere else for him to go. A squad was guarding the cliff face with the cave mouth. He'd never be able to climb to it and escape. Salrana must have told Owain about the cave, about the travel tunnels… everything. So up he went. The terrain wasn't exactly tough, the trees were few and far between above the pavilion. Grass was ankle high. Small streams trickled down the steep slope. Eventually, even the trees were behind him. Now there was just grass and boulders. He could see the summit already.
And that's when I have to decide.
'I could imprison them, he told his small ethereal court of advisers. 'The city can create rooms without doors or windows. They would have food.
'I think death would be more merciful, his father said.
'Remember what happened to poor Argian when you did that to him, and that was only for a couple of days.
'He's right, Dinlay said. 'Locking them up is just for the benefit of your conscience. They have to be wiped out. We know how ruthless they are now. If you don't remove them altogether they will come back again and again. How many times do you want this to happen to the city?
'Once was too much, Edeard said. 'But to kill so many…
'The Lady will understand, Kristabel assured him.
'They half expect it, Dinlay said. 'That's why we are where we are. He gestured at the groups of men making their way up the slope. At best, the lead squad was twenty minutes behind.
'I'm not so sure I can get past them all, Edeard said. 'Owain seems resolute.
'Of course he does, Kristabel said. 'He knows you are the only thing left between him and absolute power.
'Perhaps if I retreat out to the provinces, form a legitimate opposition.
'A revolution? his mother asked. 'It would take years, if not decades. How many would die in that struggle. No, if this is to be done it must be done swiftly. That will keep the bloodshed to a minimum. Every day you hesitate sees him consolidate his authority still further.
'You sound so certain.
She smiled, nebula-light shining through her diffuse silhouette. 'You don't grow up in Makkathran without knowing all about politics.
'You are from Makkathran?
'Yes. The fifth daughter of the fourth son of the family Herusis. But that was many years ago. My sisters and brothers will have even less status now.
'Herusis? Edeard paused, trying to recall what he knew of that family. A wealthy trading enterprise with large land holdings on the Iguru and a small fleet of ships. 'Isn't Finitan a Herusis?
'Yes. One of my great uncles.
'Finitan is my relative?
'Yes.
'I wonder if he knew?
'He probably suspected. Akeem certainly did.
'But… Mother, why did you leave?
'I was engaged to a lout of a Kirkmal, it was arranged between our families. I didn't want to go through with the wedding. I wanted my life on my terms, even if it meant giving up the money.
'That's where he gets his stubbornness from, Kristabel said.
'I'm not— he gave a wan smile. Even now she could tease him.
He covered the final slope quickly. The summit was mainly boulders and loose stone, with tufts of wiry grass growing out of cracks between pebbles. A gentle breeze was blowing in from the sea.
Edeard stood there, and turned a complete circle until he was facing Makkathran. The city's orange lights cast a strong glow into the air above the streets and canals. He could just make out the jagged outline of the towers. The first time he'd seen the city it had been so compelling, as if he was finally coming home. That yearning was still there, but the grief was a stronger force. He could barely bring himself to look at it.