The Silent River split off from the Song River just east of the capital and traveled straight from there to the sea. It was not, Donal informed them, especially quiet, but it lacked all the waterfalls and sharp turns and unexpected shallows of the Song. This made it perfect for an approach by the skiff.
They moored the craft by the river’s edge, just as the sky was turning red. After they had all clambered ashore, Donal sank the skiff down to the bottom of the river so no early morning craft would run aground on it.
While South Waveborn had seemed strange to Jes because of its trees, and West Waveborn because of its white stone castle, the mainland was just alien. Dozens of different types of birds flew and called around them, and odd furred mammals scurried by in the underbrush. Plant life was everywhere, and thickets and trees crowded directly up to the water’s edge.
Donal led the way through a series of hedges that he explained was a maze. “The key is just one seventh expressed as a decimal,” he explained, “starting with right.” He sighed at their blank looks. “Point one four two eight and so on. First right, fourth left—easy.”
They just followed him, not arguing the point. The maze led them to a back door that was locked.
“I’m sure I have explosives on me,” Donal muttered.
Amalia pulled a pin from her hair. “Let’s save the explosives for after they know we’re here.”
I am the most boring person in the whole world, Jes decided. I don’t swordfight, I don’t blow things up, and I don’t know how to pick locks. At least the last was something she might be interested in learning.
She was reminded of something she did do well when they got inside and the others’ shoes and boots clattered. She put a finger to her lips and crept silently to the first corner. A quick look, and she crept back.
“Okay, I think there are guards.”
“People?” Chris whispered back.
“Spiders. Large mechanical spiders.”
Donal looked thoughtful, but Amalia and Chris both smiled. Chris pulled his sword free. “Perfect.”
I don’t even see any rocks to throw. Jes followed reluctantly as Amalia and Chris charged around the corner.
The six spiders were the size of dinner platters. They also shot webs. Amalia and Chris both ducked the streams sent toward them, and their swords struck with a clatter of metal on metal.
“Those webs may be a problem,” Donal com-mented, rummaging through his pockets. “Here, a short-distance flamer.”
Jes caught the toss easily and then darted up as a web ensnared Chris’s right leg. She flicked the flamer on, burning through the thick strand between his leg and the wall. Chris charged in further, already hitting a second spider.
Donal used a different device to cut the webbings from Amalia’s sword arm. The spiders chittered together—communicating?—then the remaining three backed up.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Amalia said, her eyes blazing. She grinned like a maniac as she raced forward, bringing her sword down to cut one in half. The other two webbed both her arms, and her smile turned to a look of intense irritation. “Seriously?”
Chris darted in, stopping the spiders from biting her, while Donal and Jes moved forward to free her arms. Then, Chris took the spider on the left while Amalia took the one on the right, and then there were only mechanical parts left littering the floor.
Jes slipped the flamer into her pocket. “It doesn’t look like your uncle wants company,” she commented.
Donal nodded. “This isn’t really like him. I’m getting a little worried.”
Jes snorted. “Androids, airships, and treason … and now you’re a little worried?”
Donal shrugged. “No sense borrowing trouble.”
Amalia and Chris kept their swords out and ready as they went forward. After the fight, sneaking in quietly seemed a lot less likely. The door at the end of the corridor was also locked, and once again, Amalia opened it.
The workroom beyond the door looked like a combination of a toyshop and a murder scene. Android parts, disturbingly lifelike, littered shelves and tables, with gadgets in various states of disrepair in between them. At the far end, a tall, slender man with spiky blond hair and goggles was putting pieces together with total attention.
“Uncle Kegan?” Donal asked. “What are you doing?”
The man didn’t look up. “Donal, lad, was I expecting you? Sorry, I have this important project to finish for a friend. You won’t mind waiting, will you? It should only be a few more hours.”
Judging by the scattered plates of crumbs, the project had already been going on for several days. Jes cleared her throat, but Amalia spoke first.
“Actually, there’s a bit of a problem. Aside from your leaving spiders to attack us and sending androids to take over our kingdoms, that is.”
“Attack? Take over? That doesn’t sound right. I’m sure we can sort it all out as soon as I finish this for my friend Mathis. He needs it today for the party Gregor is throwing. Or maybe Mathis is throwing the party for Gregor. I’m not clear on that part.” He still hadn’t looked up, and Jes sympathized with Chris, who looked ready to scream.
“Mathis?” Jes asked. “Your friend is Dark Mathis, the pirate?”
Kegan finally looked up. “Oh, no, that was years ago. Nobody is to know that. They’d lock him up or kill him, and we agreed that he’d get another chance instead.”
Chris crowed suddenly. “He’s the ninth hero!”
Kegan fluttered his hands like they didn’t quite belong to him. “Well, really, none of us felt like heroes. But yes, when we decided that he wasn’t a bad fellow, that he had treated his crew well and didn’t deserve to die—well, the only way out was to pretend he had been one of us.”
Kegan picked up a screwdriver and gestured with it. “The attacks were almost entirely on Alsandian ships, and Mathis told us that he’d been paid by a few of the surrounding countries to carry them out. We held him off at the tiny central island until Melia raised the islands, and that broke two of his ships and beached the last. He couldn’t get away, and if we brought him back in chains, the whole story would have gotten out. There might have been war. So, it was either kill him right there and then or save him. He came back here with me to learn about steam technology and other fascinating stuff, and he’s been a perfect gentleman for the last eighteen years.”
Jes sighed. “Did he ask you to make four androids for him? Tall, pale women with black hair and sharp features?”
Kegan nodded, then shook his head. “Five, actually. They’re a surprise for Gregor. All of this is a surprise for Gregor, for the party. To make it up to him, Mathis said.”
Jes saw when the realization came to each of the others. “Kegan, Mathis is going to assassinate Gregor. And he’s going to set himself up as King of the Waveborn Islands.”
Kegan opened his mouth as though to argue, then closed it again. “Oh, dear,” he said.
“We need to stop it. Where is this happening and when?”
“Across town, at Darrius Hall.” He looked over at a clock. “In about an hour.”