The landing balcony for the marant was two-thirds of the way up the central spire and Kirven’s legs ached from the stairs. Her guards had not come into the balcony with her, they waited inside the spire. If an assassin was committed enough to climb all this way up the outside of the spire then Kirven thought they probably deserved the kill. The spires were notoriously slippery.
But she was not worried about assassins. No one would climb up the spire simply to kill her, there were far easier ways. Even thinking of it was a flight of fancy; she was generally not given to such flights but she needed to occupy her mind with something. Otherwise she would ask the signaller behind her if the marant had returned their flashes yet and she knew very well it had not.
Before her were two spires, and between them the marant, making its leisurely way towards her. Beneath it Harnspire town, the stately circles of the spirecrown and the dirty squares of the city, the mazes of the streets, dotted with trees, dirtied by vines and partially obscured by smoke. It was better up here, she thought, fresher, the air clearer.
“Have you…” she began, tailing off and then restarting, “been a signaller long?” The woman behind her was surprised by the question, and Kirven wondered whether it made her appear as soft as if she had asked if they had signalled yet.
“All my life,” they said, “learned it from my secondmother, can read a mirror flash the same way some would read a scroll.”
“Good,” said Kirven. “I like that we have the best on the spire.”
“Would you like me to signal again, High Leoric?” She would, she absolutely would.
“No, it will be here soon enough.” The signaller said nothing, not that sending a signal mattered as she could not ask what she really wanted to know. “Did you find my child?” The most she could ask would be, “was the mission successful?” Even a yes on that was not a definite answer telling her Venn lived. Quite like one of the Rai to tell her the mission had been successful because they had found corpses, knowing full well what she meant. Cruelty thicker than blood. Even this, their refusal to return a signal, was a sign of it. No doubt Galderin ignored her because he could and no doubt he would have some good excuse for it. A small cruelty, but one that reminded her how she must rule them, and never make the mistake of thinking them her friends or allies. They were her enemies as much as the forces of Chyi in the south were.
Though she needed the Rai on her side, some of them at least.
The marant was nearer now, she could make out passengers. Galderin, next to the goader, flanked by two Hetton, more behind him and there, bundled up, so familiar in their miserable posture, was a shape that made her heart leap. Venn. She knew them as well as she knew herself. Whatever had or hadn’t happened, they were coming back. She stepped to the side of the balcony as the marant came in, so she was not accidentally pushed off. Realising as she did that this was how she would kill someone if she had to up here. A “marant accident” would be far easier than climbing assassins.
The beast came down, filling the air with its buzzing and the warmth of its body; the nausea of being near the Hetton quickly followed.
She had no eyes for the marant. Only for Venn. They looked tired, and dirty. Keeping their eyes down, not looking at her, at the Rai or Hetton around them. What had they been through? What had been done to them? The signaller tied the beast down as Rai Galderin stood and pushed a small ladder over the side, climbed off. Followed by the Hetton, she noted one was missing, then Venn struggled down the ladder and she thought of nothing else. They looked barely able to walk and she wanted to go to them, to help them, but she did not. She could not show weakness. She could not make Venn look weaker than the Rai already thought them.
“Rai Galderin,” she said. “You did not answer our signals.”
“Forgive me, High Leoric,” a small bow of his head. “We lost our signalling mirror.” Was there a smile on his face? So hard to tell through the make-up. “We did, however, bring back what you care about most.” She heard a noise from the other Rai, the one still on the marant, possibly a laugh, or it could have been a cough.
“Hetton,” she said, “return to your barracks.” Her words met with hisses, in among them she was sure she could pick out the word “return” repeated multiple times. The Hetton trooped past, her mouth filling with saliva, her stomach threatening to rebel at their presence. They revolted her, but they answered to her and were part of her strength. Even the Rai were wary of them.
“The trion,” whispered Rai Galderin as he closed with her, “will not talk about what happened, and what they do say is not the truth.” She nodded. “Venn walked out of the forest unharmed, while Vanhu, Kyik and Sorha died. It seems, unlikely.”
“The false Cowl-Rai?” Galderin glanced back at the trion standing behind them, not looking at her. “Venn says they were badly hurt and they escaped, that he is probably dead. I left a Hetton behind to find the truth of it.”
“You do not believe them?” Galderin’s face creased into something dark, something cruel.
“The details, I think they are true. But they do not tell everything.” Galderin scratched his cheek. “I can find out, if you wish.” She ignored that, instead stared at her child.
“What of their cowl,” she whispered to Galderin, “was Vanhu successful before he died?” Galderin blinked, very slowly, and there was something deeply unsettling in the way he did it, something that reminded her Rai were no longer people in the way she was.
“Something has changed,” said Galderin. He looked at her, and then he did smile, a real smile as his eyes flicked over her. “They are no longer helpless,” he said. If she had ever doubted that she was right in not trusting her ally, that settled it. His opinion of her clear in that moment. She was not Rai which meant to him she was prey. The smile vanished. “But they are not Rai as I know it.” He was thoughtful then. “Though I have never met a trion with a cowl before, maybe it is different for them.” Kirven nodded.
“Thank you, Rai Galderin,” she said. “You may go now.”