Carnelian could see the embers of belief he had rekindled in Osidian’s eyes. ‘With less leverage your mother managed to bend them to her will.’
Osidian observed him. ‘But dare I go to the watch-tower leaving Legions unwatched?’
Carnelian felt trapped. Every moment that passed exposed Fern to discovery by the Lesser Chosen commanders. Never mind the disaster that would ensue should Aurum return. Osidian had to return to the dragons immediately. Carnelian knew what this was going to take. He tried to keep dismay from his face and voice as he said: ‘I’ll deal with Legions.’
Osidian looked uncertain. ‘How?’ He gazed at the floor as if he were trying to see through it. ‘I know more about them than perhaps they suspect, but I’m not fool enough to imagine I know a fraction of their secrets. Who knows what powers Legions may have to wield against us?’
Carnelian put on a smile. ‘Much of the power of the Wise comes from the awe in which they are held. Can you think of anyone in the Three Lands who’s less likely to be impressed than I?’
Osidian regarded him with a frown, thin hope warring with doubt. At last he shook his head. ‘Have it your own way.’
As he masked, Carnelian copied him with relief. Behind his mask he could release his face into what he knew must be an expression of near despair.
As he opened the door leading to the vault, Carnelian was overwhelmed by an odour that, for some reason, made him recall his wounded father. It was only myrrh. He could see its smoke creeping up the steps. He listened out for what might be happening below. Though he feared it might be sorcery he dared not give in to that fear. If anything, it was even more reason for him to confront it. He began a careful descent of the stair.
Smoke hung like mist in the vault, pierced by rays emanating from some lamp. Creeping towards the light he began to see a small figure hunched before Legions’ open capsule. Within its hollow stood the Grand Sapient, arms folded across his chest, ribbed bands across his abdomen, thighs and shins holding him fast. His face seemed a skull set above his cadaverous frame. Carnelian dared go no further. As he watched, the homunculus raised a bowl to the Grand Sapient’s groin from which liquid began emanating in a stream. For a moment Carnelian was startled by the thought that Legions was a woman. Then, with disgusted fascination, he recalled that the Wise were castrated. It had not occurred to him the mutilation might be so complete. Feeling he was observing something shameful and forbidden, he wished to retreat. Such delicacy was inappropriate. When the Grand Sapient ceased urinating the homunculus stooped to put the bowl down. One of his master’s arms unfolded and its four-fingered hand reached out, questing. Seeing it, the homunculus clambered up into the capsule, raising its chin to facilitate the coiling of its master’s fingers around its throat. Its gaze found Carnelian and it began murmuring. A shiver went up his spine as he felt that Legions was looking at him through the creature’s eyes. The murmuring ceased. The pale fingers moved. The homunculus spoke. ‘I have already been too long awake.’
Carnelian stared, not knowing what to say. The fingers released the homunculus and the arm folded back across the Grand Sapient’s chest. With a gloved hand, the homunculus reached into an array of amber beads set into the rim of the capsule. It plucked one out and, clambering up the capsule, it touched the bead to Legions’ lipless mouth, which opened to receive it.
As the homunculus climbed back down to the floor, Carnelian crept to its side. ‘How often does that drug need to be administered?’
Stooping to retrieve something from the shadows, the homunculus rose to regard him with its old man’s eyes. ‘Every day, Seraph.’ It raised the thing it had in its hands. A silver mask from whose single eye gleaming tears ran down the long tapering cheek. As the homunculus adjusted the mechanisms on its reverse, Carnelian peered at the creature, reassuring himself it was fully detached from its master. It seemed unnatural that it should be speaking on its own behalf. ‘You will do this every day for him?’
The homunculus shook its head and indicated the triangular space between the Grand Sapient’s legs. ‘Normally I sleep there, with my master. Ammonites administer the elixir, overseen by a Sapient of Immortality.’ The homunculus regarded the chamber with hooded eyes. ‘We dare not entrust my masters to the ammonites here.’ He made a gesture asking Carnelian for permission to disengage from their conversation. At Carnelian’s nod, the creature scaled the capsule again. He leaned in to peer at his master’s face. ‘He sleeps.’ He placed the mask carefully over the skull face, fitting the mechanisms into the cavities. He pressed the mask back, and its crowning lunar crescent gripped the central sphere of three that were set beneath the upper rim of the capsule and hung above Legions’ brow like planets.
Back on the floor, the homunculus closed the lid of the capsule. Legions formed a dark core in the ivory vessel. The homunculus raised a stick of wax and melted some to fall into a circular recess on the edge of the lid. Then he pressed a seal into it. Carnelian craned over the creature and saw the impression of a cross that had been left in the wax. The nearer of the other two capsules was similarly sealed. ‘Is that to protect him?’
The homunculus jumped, startled, and did not calm down until Carnelian had backed away. ‘It shows who was responsible for the last feeding, Seraph.’
‘You have sole responsibility for the Grand Sapient?’
‘And for his servants, Seraph.’
‘Who are they?’
‘His Seconds, Seraph.’
Carnelian did not understand what the creature meant. Something else sprang to mind. ‘Will they wake?’
‘Only when the effect of the elixir wears off, Seraph.’
‘How long will that be?’
The little man frowned. ‘Around midday tomorrow. I shall have to feed them then.’
Carnelian could not believe his luck. It seemed his problem of overseeing the Grand Sapient had solved itself. ‘You will come with me.’
The homunculus paled and his eyes widened. ‘Seraph, my master has bidden me guard his sleep.’
‘You can stand guard upstairs, but, henceforth, you will remain always at my side.’
Carnelian saw how fearful the creature was. He began walking back towards the stair. Not hearing footfalls following him he turned. ‘Obey me,’ he said, putting an edge into his voice that all not Chosen were right to fear. Reluctantly, the homunculus obeyed.
In the bedchamber, head bowed, its mask hanging from its hand, the homunculus seemed so like a child Carnelian found he was beginning to feel paternal towards it, but then it looked up. That wizened face was not a child’s, nor its ancient, rheumy eyes.
Carnelian looked away. Finally, he had time to think. His mind blanked. He tried to focus on the issues, but his attention kept slipping from them. Exhaustion washed over him. Feeling under observation by the homunculus, he yearned to be alone. He glanced towards the outer door. Dare he trust the creature to the care of Aurum’s household? He preferred to keep it where he could see it: the homunculus was the key that kept the Sapients locked in sleep, safe within their capsules.
He longed for the oblivion of sleep, but once he was asleep who was there to stop the creature creeping back to its master’s side? He imagined the Grand Sapient, woken, coming up the stairs to loom over him as he dreamed. He shuddered and looked around for some solution to the problem. In the end he dragged some feather blankets into the corner and made himself a bed in front of the door to the vault. He told the homunculus that it would have to find itself a place to sleep. The creature bowed low, then crept away into the gloomiest part of the chamber. Standing over his makeshift bed Carnelian watched it make a nest. This arrangement would have to do.
‘I am about to unmask,’ he announced. The homunculus immediately put on its blinding mask. Carnelian hesitated. The silver child face was staring at him across the room more intently than had the homunculus’ own. He turned his back on the creature and released his mask with a sigh of relief. It was a struggle to free himself from his robes. He did this all as quietly as he could. At one stage, he realized how ridiculous he must look and could not help laughing. The sound echoed around the chamber. When he was free he slipped under a blanket, his heart beating as he listened for any furtive sounds the homunculus might be making.