Osidian bowed his head and Carnelian watched the fight leach out of him.
‘We shall depart immediately,’ said the homunculus. ‘It would be better if instructions be given below that none are to impede us.’
Carnelian glanced at Osidian. ‘I will go, my Lord, and see to it.’
As he reached the edge of the platform, he looked back. Osidian was watching the Grand Sapients being sealed back into their capsules with an expression on his face of one betrayed.
Carnelian descended the tower against the flow of ammonites climbing it to begin the process of bringing down the Grand Sapients in their capsules. On the leftway, preparations were being made to leave. He saw that no Marula were entering the cordon of the Sinistral Ichorians and turned to gaze into the night, brooding over what Grand Sapient Lands had said. Light from the camp did not reach beyond the dragons to the sartlar, but their murmuring made him feel as if he stood upon a cliff looking out to sea. He tried to imagine the extent of several provinces of the Guarded Land. Could the sartlar over such a vast expanse really be moving in response to his summons? So much parched earth rising to clog the air. Hri yellowing, unwatered. The harvest meant to feed so many mouths left to rot in the Rains. Was he really responsible for bringing famine to the Commonwealth?
He became aware of a figure near him and turned to see an ammonite. The figure knelt. ‘Master.’
Carnelian regarded the man uneasily. Uncharacteristically, the ammonite had addressed him in Vulgate. ‘What do you want?’ he said in Quya.
‘Carnie, it’s me,’ the ammonite hissed.
Carnelian stepped back, alarmed, confused. He looked up and saw, close by, some Ichorians holding torches, but they were focused on the entrance to the tower. His Marula were within calling distance. Movement drew his attention back to the kneeling ammonite. There was a glint as it removed its silver mask and turned a little into the light. Expecting to see a face smothered in numerals, Carnelian began saying something. His tongue stilled. A chameleon tattoo. He stared at it, shocked. The cypher was achingly familiar and yet so very strange. It took him a while to notice the face smiling tentatively. His throat clenched as did his heart. ‘Tain?’
The young man beamed. It was Tain. It was his brother Tain. The boy become a young man. He fitted his face back into the mask, became an ammonite again, so that Carnelian was left almost feeling he had imagined it. Tain rose and beckoned Carnelian to follow him, who did, his thoughts frozen. Then he had enough to do dealing with getting through the Ichorian cordon, through ammonites, as Tain led him towards the first palanquin. They passed that, passed the second, continuing on, moving away from the tower and towards the rear of the procession. Carnelian’s mind thawed into an avalanche of speculation. He was reluctant to stop the purple-clad figure walking in front of him, though he wanted, needed answers.
At last they reached the seventh and final palanquin. It was quiet here, since most of the ammonites were clustering back near the tower, but one stood as if waiting for them. It indicated the palanquin with his head. ‘You don’t have much time.’
Carnelian stared. ‘Keal?’ It was the voice of his brother, whom he had not seen since he had left him on the coast so long ago.
The man gave a nod. ‘Hurry.’
Carnelian managed to wrench his gaze from his disguised brother to the palanquin. As he did so his heart beat faster. It was more desire than expectation prompting his hope of who might be inside. Unmasking, he reached out to take the handle and slid the panel open.
Peering into the gloom, he withered with disappointment. The old, wizened man inside the palanquin was unknown to him. A Master, unmasked, pale eyes in a sunken face.
The face lit up. ‘My son.’ Carnelian saw with shock it was indeed his father. Horror overwhelmed him. ‘What has happened to you, my Lord?’
Sardian was too preoccupied feasting his eyes on him to answer. He reached out to take Carnelian’s hands. ‘Son, it is a joy to see you.’
Carnelian glanced down at the bony hands gripping his, sapphire veins running over tendons and bones. He took hold of them, brought them up and bent to kiss them. ‘Oh, my father, what has happened to you?’ He looked up and, through tears, saw his father’s eyes sadden. He shrugged in a manner that tore at Carnelian’s heart for he had not seen that gesture for, it seemed, a lifetime. Sardian’s right hand pulled free of Carnelian’s grip and strayed back up his body to hover gingerly over his side.
‘The wound has never healed.’
Carnelian remembered the night his father had been stabbed by Ykoriana’s assassin.
‘The drug the Wise gave me has preserved me in the exact state I was in when I arrived for the election.’
Carnelian gave a shudder as rage rose in him, but his father raised a hand so thin it seemed translucent. ‘Immortality warned me what the drug would do, but I had no time to linger in a sick bed.’ His father smiled and Carnelian was warmed to see something of his beauty still there, though most had now fallen into ruin.
‘You must not grieve for me, Carnelian. On balance, I have had a fortunate life.’ His hand returned to cover Carnelian’s. ‘For instance, I had no hope of seeing you again.’
Carnelian sank for a moment into comfort. He had not felt so safe since, well, he could not remember. A thought came to him that made him stiffen with alarm.
‘What is it?’ his father asked, eyes widening.
‘Why are you here? The Wise…?’
His father squeezed his hand. ‘I have come here with their permission.’ He frowned. ‘We have scant time. Desiring to converse with the Lord Nephron, the Wise persuaded the God Emperor to let them come here. In exchange, they promised to bring Them you.’
Carnelian felt a chill of doubt in his chest. ‘Me?’
His father’s eyes flashed in reaction to something he thought he saw in Carnelian’s face. ‘Do you imagine I would betray you?’
Carnelian only half heard the words, contemplating, with surprise, how his father’s eyes had lost their power over him. Their gaze softened. ‘Forgive me. I have no right to be angry. What do I know of what you have suffered?’
Carnelian tried to work out where to begin, but his father had moved on. He held up his right hand, which bore no Ruling Ring. ‘I am no longer Suth.’
Carnelian’s nod caused his father to raise the ghost of what had been an eyebrow. ‘But I can see you knew that already.’
‘Aurum told me.’
His father’s face darkened. ‘Did he?’
Carnelian focused his mind on the situation. ‘The Wise have promised to reinstate you in exchange for you persuading me to return with you?’
His father nodded. ‘Not only that. They have promised me you will be pardoned so that you can assume the rule of our House.’
Carnelian could see how much his father yearned for that and it filled him with confusion. First he was surprised how much he yearned for it too. Then, even more surprising, his gut reacted against the thought of deserting Osidian.
His father cut through his turmoil. ‘But I have not come here to ask you to return.’
Carnelian looked a question at him.
‘Rather I have come to bid you flee.’
Carnelian was lost. ‘Flee?’
‘You must abandon this ill-conceived venture. Return to anywhere you have hope of finding refuge. Otherwise you will be encompassed in Nephron’s ruin.’ His father paused, suddenly very weary, weak, old. ‘I need to know that you are safe.’
Carnelian shook his head. ‘I do not understand, Father.’ He saw in his father’s face something he had never thought to see there: fear.
‘You know I have loved you since you were born?’
Uneasy, Carnelian gave a slow nod.
‘Never forget that.’
Carnelian watched his father’s face growing ashen and his heart began pounding. What was it that he wanted to say?