His brothers glanced up at him nervously as he entered the watch-tower atrium. He bade them rise from their knees and their faces lit up, knowing his voice. Uncertainty returned as they saw Carnelian’s companions walking in behind him.
‘Father?’
‘He sleeps,’ said a familiar gruff voice. When the speaker appeared from behind a pillar, Carnelian did not at first recognize him. He had changed so much and yet Carnelian saw the man he had known in the ruin that remained. It was Grane, his eldest brother, his eyes put out and replaced with stones. Carnelian did not feel comfortable staring at him, even though Grane could not be aware of it. Shocked, angry, Carnelian wanted to know how Grane had come to be blinded. He became aware of the pain in his other brothers’ eyes. ‘I’ll not disturb Father.’
Grane nodded, clearly relieved. Carnelian felt a pang of worry for his father’s condition.
‘Who’re these others?’ said Tain.
‘Are these your brothers, Carnie?’ Carnelian turned to Poppy. He could not help smiling behind his mask. She was standing her ground, stating her claim of intimacy with him by using his diminutive. Tain and Keal were staring at her, wondering who she was. Carnelian extended his arm to take in Fern and Krow as well as Poppy. ‘These’re as much my family as you are, Tain.’
Of his brothers, only Grane did not frown. Carnelian introduced Poppy and Krow. Then he indicated Fern. ‘This is Fern, your cousin.’
At that, even Grane looked shocked.
‘His mother was Ebeny’s elder sister.’
Tain and Keal gaped at Fern. Carnelian saw that even Fern’s moroseness was lightening a little with curiosity. He looked from one to the other, enjoying their interest in each other. He fancied he could even see a common resemblance. Then it occurred to him that Fern was more closely related to his brothers than was he. That made him feel sad, then angry.
‘Seraph?’
An ammonite had appeared at the foot of the ladder that led up into the tower. ‘My masters wish to converse with you, Seraph.’
Carnelian was about to object but twisting in the surface of the man’s silver mask were shadowy greens and blacks. He glanced at the Ichorians who had escorted them into the tower. The last thing he wanted was any bloodshed. Besides, he knew he would have to confront the Wise. Now was as good a time as any.
He looked towards his brothers. ‘Grane, please take care of my friends. I’ll return as soon as I can.’
His brother gave a solemn nod. Carnelian noticed that Krow had extended a protective arm around Poppy. Fern had regained his grim demeanour. Carnelian felt content they would sort things out among themselves.
As he approached the ammonite, the man moved aside. Reaching the ladder Carnelian glanced up into the tower and saw a complex pattern of light seeping in from the various levels. Even through his nosepads he could smell burning and myrrh. His heart fluttered at what lay up there, but he began to climb.
‘We have been expecting you, Suth Carnelian,’ said the homunculus.
Four capsules stood open against the walls. One was empty and its occupant was looming behind the homunculus that had spoken. The horns of the Grand Sapient’s silver mask were almost forking the ceiling. Carnelian recognized the emerald finial of the staff the homunculus was holding before him, which was carved into the form of a man.
‘Immortality.’
The homunculus murmured and a little later its master inclined its almost featureless face. In their capsules, the other Grand Sapients remained as motionless as the dead.
The myrrh-thick air had already made Carnelian queasy with anxiety. The unexpected presence of another Grand Sapient quickened his heart to fear. He felt in his bones that Immortality was there because of him. ‘My Lords, if you vow to reinstate my father in his House as you promised him, then-’
Another high homunculus voice broke in. ‘That depends on what you have to tell us.’
The staff it held proclaimed its master to be Law. ‘That was not what I had- I shall tell you what I know, but it might be less than you had hoped for.’
‘Perhaps you know more than you imagine.’ This was Lands’ homunculus.
‘You will submit to an examination,’ said Immortality.
Carnelian only became aware he was backing away when he felt the door of the cell against his back. ‘Examination?’
‘Disrobe.’ The face of the homunculus was impassive, but a sharpness in its voice seemed to convey the menace that was in its master’s mind.
Carnelian felt trapped. ‘I don’t understand. Why?’
‘You will find it more comfortable if you submit willingly.’
The voice seemed to be dissecting him. He took in the four homunculi. He did not believe they could easily overpower him. Immortality’s bones seemed as if they would snap under the merest impact. The other Grand Sapients did not appear to have enough strength even to leave their capsules. Carnelian felt the door at his back. He could turn, flee, except that the tower was filled with ammonites and surrounded by Ichorians. Besides, there was his father to think of, Fern and Poppy and Krow, his brothers.
He felt the thick silk of his military cloak, then pulled it off. It fell to the floor like a shadow. Carefully he released himself from his commander’s leathers. They fell away like discarded skin. The ritual bindings were stained beneath his arms, down his chest, his crotch, his inner thighs, his feet. The cloth gave off an odour of stale sweat that even the myrrh could not conceal.
‘Approach us.’
Carnelian gazed at Immortality’s mirror mask and obeyed. As he came close, the Grand Sapient released his hold on his homunculus and his pale hands opened to receive Carnelian, who shuddered as they floated towards him like colourless moths. One finger then another settled upon his chest. Quick as a serpent, the other hand stung his neck. Carnelian reached up instinctively, then fire poured into the roots of his veins. His flesh felt as if it was fraying apart; his bones melting to oil. He was on the floor. A tearing sound and the surface of his body seemed to be releasing its tension. Like a ripe fruit spilling its seeds.
‘Why did you summon the sartlar?’
The words formed a perfect calligraphy like smoke and could not be denied, yet Carnelian struggled to fight against their compulsion. It was his own voice that betrayed him, though not completely. ‘To use them against Molochite.’
In some remote chamber in his mind, Carnelian smiled. They would ask him about tactics, but he could give them only emptiness in reply.
‘Where did the notion come from?’
Carnelian rushed away, closing doors behind him so they could not follow. An arch of pain formed inside his shell like a trumpet blast, forcing a groan out against his will.
‘From where?’
He tried to hide, but then he was exposed naked in a coruscating flash of pain. His voice like an animal’s. ‘A dream.’
‘Describe this dream.’
Carnelian tried to choke his throat, but the words poured out like water between his fingers. He relived the dream through his own voice. The blood tide was pulling him out to sea, but he was caught, like a jelly fish impaled upon a stick. Questions probing his soft, exposed, transparent innards.
‘Calculation on the basis of the brothers’ cusp birth remain stubbornly inconclusive.’
‘Could this shed light?’
‘Confirm his birth date.’
‘No correlation.’
‘Can it be incidental?’
‘Something is missing.’
‘Shall we terminate him?’
‘Dare we? They will have Their price.’
‘There I could examine him more minutely.’
‘What could he reveal in Their hands?’
‘Is it conceivable They could extract more than we?’
‘Hatred blinds Them.’
‘But if he dies?’
‘Then he is not the missing factor.’
‘Besides, by intervening we might have sundered his connection to the crisis thread.’