'He's just Trallo,' she said. 'Nothing more than Trallo. And you'd better watch him, Bella. He's a rogue.'

Trallo's easy smile neither confirmed nor denied it.

When Che returned to their lodgings that night, she found Praeda out on the balcony, a silent figure against the raucous background noise of Mannerly Gorget and at least two Solarnese strumpets. The Collegiate woman could almost have been one of the Vekken, and engaged in their silent communion. They had not sufficient funds for a view of the lake, and so Praeda was staring blankly at the buildings just across the street. Che would have gone straight to her own bed and tried for some sleep, save that there was something uncharacteristic about the way Praeda was standing there.

'What are you doing out here, Miss Rakespear?' she asked, joining the woman in the open air. Fly-kinden buzzed overhead, either messengers or just late in going home.

'Not stabbing Manny,' Praeda said flatly, keeping her face turned away from Che.

'He didn't-?'

'He decided to subject me to another broadside of his affection,' Praeda snapped. 'And I do mean broadside.'

'Drunk, I suppose ...' said Che and then caught herself. 'Meaning no reflection on you, save that he always seems to be.'

Praeda's shoulders shook, just briefly, hunching forward about her feelings. Che suddenly felt horribly awkward.

'I know what they say,' the other woman said. 'Don't think I haven't heard. I'd hoped to get away from ... that kind of talk, save that wretched Gorget has brought it with him. Che ...' But she killed the thought, the reaching hand s.n.a.t.c.hed away. 'I apologize, Miss Maker. I will soon be myself again.'

'Cheerwell, please. In fact, I'd prefer Che,' Che told her. 'And can I-?'

'Praeda, please,' Praeda confirmed. 'Thank you.' She turned, valiantly, and Che could see the redness round her eyes. 'It's been a long journey and I'm tired,' she said with dignity, at which Che could only nod.

'It's a three-stage business, the road to Khanaphes,' Trallo explained. Despite the warnings about him, he had been working hard for his money in making arrangements. 'We may as well fly to Ostrander. There's a regular run of airships making the jaunt there. From Ostrander we'll fall in with a larger caravan, hiring pack animals and porters. There's always a pool of villains there waiting for work. We go overland to Porta Rabi, almost the longest part of the journey.' He had taken Che to a Fly-kinden chocolate house overlooking the water, and ostentatiously insisted on paying for everything. She was not sure whether this was business as usual for a Solarnese caravan master or whether he was trying to impress her.

'Why not fly straight to this Porta Rabi?' she asked.

Trallo laughed unkindly. 'You're a foreigner, so perhaps you don't know about our neighbours in Princep Exilla.'

'The Dragonflies you mean air pirates?'

'Any airship near Princep is fair game. So we go overland, and in company, since it's not the safest of roads. From Porta Rabi we find a ship heading for Khanaphes: there'll be one every few tendays.' He shook his head. He had met Master Gripshod and the rest earlier that day and not seemed much impressed. 'They don't like questions in Khanaphes, Bella Cheerwell, so I hope you know what you're doing.'

'So do I.' Here in Solarno, such a long way from home, all of Stenwold's plans and Drillen's ambitions seemed weak and hazy.

'Tell your boffins that we'll take ship in three days,' Trallo continued. He had not met the Vekken yet, which was probably for the best.

'They'll be ready. They're keen to investigate new ground. Solarno has been the talk of Collegium for months.' She hoped that was true for all of them, since Manny had shown a particular liking for the seamier side of this city.

Trallo stood up with a flick of his wings, then changed his mind and sat down again, abruptly waving to a servant for another bowl of chocolate.

'I don't know this place you come from,' he said. 'So I asked around what's this College place like, I ask them. Nice, they tell me. Busy, hard-working. A bit fond of the pomp and gravitas. They don't tell me about the politics.' His voice had lowered.

'Politics?' Che felt something uncomfortable stir inside her.

'People here are taking an interest. n.o.body's been so cra.s.s as to offer me money yet, but I'm almost waiting for it. You're being watched, and it's not just cos you're new in town. Anything particular I should know, is there?'

She shook her head slowly. 'I don't think that can be from back home. It's too far, surely. Who ...?' She stared at him for a long time. 'Tell me, does the Wasp Empire keep any ... people in Solarno?'

'Oh there's an emba.s.sy, an amba.s.sador,' he replied lightly, but he was looking straight into her eyes and nodding. 'I don't mind, but it may cost extra, and it's only right I should know.'

She shook her head. 'It must just be because of the war. They probably still keep tabs on every Lowlander in Solarno.' He was looking doubtful, though, and she hardly believed it herself.

'Change the arrangements at the last minute,' she suggested. 'Make it two days, not three. I'll pay for any inconvenience. If someone's interested, let's surprise them.'

Trallo nodded, already making the changes in his head. 'Wise,' he muttered. 'Very wise.'

Across the mirror of the Exalsee, the glitter and dance of an aerial duel was takng place. Che leant on the rail, fascinated. She could just make out the combatants. The match was something peculiar to this region, uniquely uneven: a dragonfly-rider from Princep Exilla was flying against a mechanical orthopter. The insect was vastly nimbler in the air, hovering and darting in circles about the machine. Its rider had only a bow and throwing spears. Barring the luckiest shot, he would merely waste his arrows. If the orthopter's rotating piercers found their prey then it would be over in a moment but the machine, sleek and deadly as it was, seemed to lumber through the air. Eventually it would run short of fuel and the pilot would have to break off from the contest. The Dragonfly would count that as a win.

Trallo joined her, stretching theatrically. Their current transport was a more utilitarian beast than Captain Parrols's piece of luxury. The Fighting Craidhen Fighting Craidhen ran pa.s.sengers and light cargo in short, quick hops around the Exalsee. Aside from the impressive engines, which stank of a mineral oil that made Che feel queasy, there was no spare weight or needless decoration in the airship's design. ran pa.s.sengers and light cargo in short, quick hops around the Exalsee. Aside from the impressive engines, which stank of a mineral oil that made Che feel queasy, there was no spare weight or needless decoration in the airship's design.

'Here.' Trallo handed her a spygla.s.s. She took it, abruptly glum, and even looked into it. She saw only blurs and smudges wheeling and dancing at the lens's far end. It made her think of Trallo's little people.

'Your kinden ...' It was an awkward thing to ask. 'Some of you are Inapt, yes?' She already knew it was so. She had even seen Fly seers in Tharn.

'Hardly,' Trallo said, nevertheless. 'What use would they be?'

In Solarno things are different. Still, she stared at him until he shrugged. Still, she stared at him until he shrugged.

'Oh a few,' he admitted. 'A few are born each generation. Less and less, I'd guess. They have a blasted hard time of it, I'd guess.'

'Quite.' She handed back the spygla.s.s to him.

The Fighting Craidhen Fighting Craidhen flew on through the night, and the academics were given nothing but some blankets thrown over the bare boards of the hold on which to sleep. Che made it plain she had no time for their complaints. She had not explained to them why they had left Solarno so precipitately. When Praeda questioned the wisdom of hiring Trallo, she had likewise not been drawn into debate. To her astonishment, her fiat on such matters was grudgingly accepted. flew on through the night, and the academics were given nothing but some blankets thrown over the bare boards of the hold on which to sleep. Che made it plain she had no time for their complaints. She had not explained to them why they had left Solarno so precipitately. When Praeda questioned the wisdom of hiring Trallo, she had likewise not been drawn into debate. To her astonishment, her fiat on such matters was grudgingly accepted. They all think I know what I'm doing! They all think I know what I'm doing! She could have laughed. She could have laughed. I'm making it up as I go along. I'm making it up as I go along. She knew that Stenwold would have done better. She knew that Stenwold would have done better.

Trallo came to shake her by the shoulder, a very little after dawn. She twitched awake suddenly, reaching instinctively across the hard floor for a slight man who was not there. For a moment she felt disoriented. Surely Achaeos had been kneeling beside her only now. Where was she, and where had he gone?

The avalanche of a year's history brought her back, trading happy fantasy for hard fact. 'Oh,' she said. 'Oh, yes. What is it?'

The Fly-kinden tugged his beard, which she recognized by now as a sign of good humour. Leaving the academics to bicker, and the Vekken to their stony silence, she had been spending most of her time with the caravan master. His cheerful talk reminded her of Taki. There was an open flamboyance to these Solarnese Fly-kinden that their Lowlands brethren lacked.

'You should see this from the air,' he said. 'We're coming up on the place now.'

Blearily she stumbled up on deck. Dawn had done little to shift the night's gloom, but she could see that beneath them the water was giving way to solid ground. Trallo had reached the bow rail with a flicker of his wings, while she trod heavily after him.

'What am I looking for?' she asked him. After a pause, she changed that to, 'What am I looking at?'

It was a mountain, only it was too narrow, altogether too smooth. She could see the cl.u.s.ter of buildings at its base: a walled enclosure of huts and houses built in its shadow. It cut into the sky like a knife blade, looming bigger and bigger as the Craidhen Craidhen neared it. neared it.

Che shook her head. 'I give up,' she said. 'What?'

Trallo was grinning. 'There's a fellow I once met who went deep into the Forest Aleth that's all the green stuff south of the Exalsee. He went real deep, said that these things were all over there, just rising up from the canopy, big as you like, with some kind of albino Ant-kinden just building them up from the ground. Anyway, that's one of them. Been abandoned for a long time by whoever did make it, but it's like a castle. There's rooms and pa.s.sages and all sorts inside, and even more underground. A tribe of the Alethi live there now, won't let much anyone in. I hear they're only using a tiny portion of it, though.'

More light struck the vast dagger of earth and stone, turning it the colour of honey. It was a hundred feet high, perhaps more, for the scale of the buildings in its shadow was hard to guess. Che had a strange feeling in her stomach at the sight which, after some hesitation, she identified as excitement.

Ostrander was but the door to greater mysteries. We are leaving behind the things that we know. We are leaving behind the things that we know.

Seven.

They ran into trouble at Ostrander. It caught them unawares, having come so far without.

Trallo had found them lodgings in one of the shacks within Ostrander's wooden walls, and was now busy making arrangements for the trek onwards to Porta Rabi. The Vekken amba.s.sadors would not venture out, because Ostrander was a hostile Ant city-state as far as they were concerned, even though the Ants of the Exalsee seemed to behave differently to their Lowlander cousins. (But doesn't everything, here? was Che's thought on that.) Che herself shadowed Trallo, because he was always good company and because his companionship was teaching her something of his trade. The academics she left to their own devices, which would also prove to be a learning experience. was Che's thought on that.) Che herself shadowed Trallo, because he was always good company and because his companionship was teaching her something of his trade. The academics she left to their own devices, which would also prove to be a learning experience.

Trallo had spent the day haggling with a succession of merchants over pack animals and automotives, and had concluded his dealings with each by angrily springing up and declaring that he would never do business with such a villain ever again. They would then meet the next day and renegotiate. It was a way of trading that exactly suited both the hot-blooded Solarnese and the proud Dragonflies of Princep Exilla, and the trading crowd in Ostrander was made up of both. There were a few Spider-kinden as well, and a miscellany of renegades and halfbreeds from Chasme. The actual locals took no part in Ostrander's role as a caravan stop, save by tolerating the rabble of newcomers' buildings in the shadow of their artificial mountain.

Che spotted the natives around, although fewer than she had expected. They were Ant-kinden of an unhealthy shade, greenish-white and anaemic-looking. The vast majority of them did not venture beyond the caverns of their pirated home, and they only came out to tax those who sought shelter in their shadow. They carried spears and crossbows and wore a mismatch of armour, from clattering vests of chitin shards to Solarnese plated leathers and full chainmail. Che already knew that most of the Ant-kinden of the Exalsee lived nomadic lives in the Forest Aleth and were reckoned a primitive lot, by the Solarnese at least. The Ostranden, however, had broken from that lifestyle, settled down in their inherited fortress and acquired civilized vices. In fact they were starting to become a mirror of the fiercely territorial Lowlander city-states that Che knew all too well.

With evening coming on, Che and Trallo found themselves sitting discussing alliances with a Spider-kinden woman and a Solarnese man. Travellers did not set off singly down the road to Porta Rabi, for the desert fringe held too many dangers to be travelled alone. The Solarnese was a rug-trader, the Spider was a slaver, and Trallo had brought them together and, as a reward for the introduction, earned a place in their company. Che had the vague impression they would be paying him for the privilege as well but, as they only made veiled allusions to money, she could not be sure.

Manny burst in just as they were concluding their business, thundering through the door and almost falling at Che's feet. The Solarnese and the Spider had drawn blades on the instant, and Che found her own shortsword in her hand by some instinct she had not known she still owned. The fat man was running with sweat, his fine clothes ripped down the back.

'Hammer and tongs!' Che swore at him. 'What's wrong with you?'

Manny shook his head so hard that his jowls quivered. 'Not me,' he got out, 'the others ... Soldiers come to the lodgings ... trying to arrest everyone-'

Trallo was out of the door at once, wings a blur. Che ran after him, trying to resheathe her sword as she went. The wretched Mannerly Gorget was left to recover his breath.

They found a dozen greenish Ant-kinden standing some distance from the lodgings as they arrived. Che saw that they had apprehended Praeda already, holding the Beetle woman tightly between two of them. A dark bruise was emerging on the scholar's face. Armed with crossbows and bows, the Ant-kinden were keeping a respectful watch on the lodging-house, and Che noticed movement in one of the ramshackle building's upper windows.

'What's this?' Trallo demanded, touching down ahead of her. 'What's this? Open arrest on the streets of Ostrander?' He pitched his voice loudly enough to carry to all the traders and travellers and caravaneers loitering nearby, all the other foreigners. The Ostranden Ants remained packed close together and Che could see that the incident had already attracted more notice than they were happy with.

It must be the Vekken, she decided, with a sinking heart. Had they not been able to resist antagonizing enemy Antkinden?

'You claim responsibility for these?' demanded one of the Ostranden, a woman. 'They have transgressed against us.'

'What? What have they done?' Che asked. She spotted a pitch-dark face at the upper window, and guessed that the Vekken had crossbows ready up there, and better ones than the locals.

The Ostranden woman stared coldly at Che. 'We demand our rights for trespa.s.s,' she insisted.

Che saw Trallo visibly relax. 'Oh, money,' he said, almost dismissively. 'We'll talk money. money. We'll come to an arrangement. Let's go do it now, before nightfall. There's no need for all this.' He glanced along the street, leading Che's gaze in the same direction. She saw another score of Ants approaching, called by their comrades' silent summons. We'll come to an arrangement. Let's go do it now, before nightfall. There's no need for all this.' He glanced along the street, leading Che's gaze in the same direction. She saw another score of Ants approaching, called by their comrades' silent summons.

The Ostranden turned away, along with her soldiers, then turned back sharply. 'Tell them, them,' she said, jabbing her spear towards the lodging-house, 'they must leave. If they are still here at tomorrow sunset, we will burn them out, if we must.'

Che stormed off towards the house, determined to set some limits on amba.s.sadorial freedoms. Behind them she heard Trallo begin to negotiate for the return of Praeda.

A crossbow bolt flowered suddenly in the dirt five feet ahead of her. She stopped dead, glaring up at the windows. She saw one of the Vekken there, knowing it would not be the shooter, who would now be out of sight and reloading. I cannot let these madmen have free run of the world I cannot let these madmen have free run of the world, she decided. We must observe reason We must observe reason. She took a deep breath and marched towards the door. There was no second bolt.

She stormed upstairs, and they were waiting for her, standing almost shoulder to shoulder. One kept an eye on the street outside, the other faced her, expressionless.

'What have you done now?' she demanded. They said nothing. She waited a count of five for their answer, and then pressed on. 'There is an entire mountain full of Antkinden just over there, so what do you hope to gain?' She was fighting to keep her tone reasonable, though not entirely succeeding.

The Vekken stared at her for a moment longer. 'We defend ourselves,' said one, who must therefore be Accius. 'They bring the war to us and we defend ourselves.'

'By doing what?' she asked him. 'Trespa.s.sing, they said. Where did you go? Were you spying on them?'

There was a dry cough from a corner of the room. She now noticed Berjek Gripshod there, looking somewhat the worse for wear. His robes were dusty and there was a graze across his forehead. She had been so intent on the Vekken that she had missed him entirely.

'My apologies, Madam Maker, but the trespa.s.s was mine mine and Miss Rakespear's.'

Che stared at him and the old man gave her a weak smile. 'We went to look at their home, that extraordinary construction. It would seem we were paying too much interest. One forgets how Ant-kinden can be.'

Che heard footsteps on the stairs and a bedraggled Praeda Rakespear stepped into the room. She had obviously heard the end of Berjek's statement, because she was nodding agreement.

'Suddenly they were looking at us in an unfriendly manner,' she said, always given to understatement. 'We decided to withdraw. They followed. Then they caught me when I stumbled.'

'I'm afraid for our Vekken friends here it was something of a confirmation of all their fears,' said Berjek. He was shaking slightly, but she thought she discerned a dry amus.e.m.e.nt now that the immediate crisis was past. 'They broke out the crossbows and starting sending out warning shots at the locals. If you and the Fly had not arrived when you did, then matters might have become considerably worse.'

There was no particular grat.i.tude in his voice but Che realized that it was thanks nevertheless. She waved it away, mumbling something about it being due to Manny Gorget's finding her. Underneath, the two scholars were still reeling from having been under such unaccustomed threat so recently. Che felt the Vekken still staring at her. She supposed she should be thankful that they had not shot any of the Ostranden dead. All of a sudden she felt very tired.

'Well, it could have been worse,' she declared.

Berjek exchanged a sidelong glance with Praeda. 'It may even have been worthwhile,' he suggested, choosing his words carefully. 'What expense we have unwittingly incurred, I shall cover from my own funds. Madam Rakespear and I observed some remarkable things in the short s.p.a.ce of time we were allowed. It has quite whetted our appet.i.tes for Khanaphes.'

That night, for once, Che absented herself from Trallo's company, leaving him to play dice with Manny and a pair of Solarnese he seemed to be looking to hire. Instead she sought out Berjek and Praeda, as they sat together in a corner of the lodging house's common room. The old man nodded when he saw her approach.

'I thought so. Still some scholar there beneath the amba.s.sador.'

'What did you see?' she asked them.

They exchanged looks. 'The building ... or perhaps artifact ... is entirely artificial,' Praeda explained. 'It is made of stones and earth cemented together. I have never seen anything like it before, and so it is impossible to say how old it is, but ...' She gestured to Berjek.

'There are carvings,' the old man continued for her. 'Around the base to a height of perhaps twenty feet. Continuous carvings, made of many small, discrete images. They have eroded so far that it is impossible to make out the detail, but the style ... I have seen some of the papers that Master Kadro sent back to Collegium, though I had to pry them out of Jodry Drillen's hands. The style of carving is Khanaphir, no mistake: Kadro had made rubbings and sketches. The tradition that was responsible for etching this monument, long before these Ostranden took up residence, is alive and well in Khanaphes to this day.'

In her dream she was below ground, walking beside a subterranean river in a darkness that was no darkness to her. The walls she pa.s.sed were heavily carved, the details obscured by moss and damp. Ahead, where watercourses met and crossed, there was a plinth and a statue rising from the murk. The statue was long ruined. Only its broken base, showing the lowermost folds of a robe, still spoke of whatever dignitary or hero had been immortalized here. It was all so old that, in her dream, she wondered, Is this Khanaphes? Is this Khanaphes?

When she awoke she realized that her dreamscape was no more than the sewers beneath Myna: the ones they had rushed her through after rescuing her from Thalric's cells and torture chambers. For a moment she laughed at herself, but then she thought again: old. old. The Mynan sewers, seeming impossibly large, had been carved for another city were the only relic of a time when the Apt folk of Myna had been mere slaves. There were also buildings in Collegium parts of the Amphiophos and the College that dated back to before the revolution. They had been put up by Beetle hands, but not for Beetle masters. The Mynan sewers, seeming impossibly large, had been carved for another city were the only relic of a time when the Apt folk of Myna had been mere slaves. There were also buildings in Collegium parts of the Amphiophos and the College that dated back to before the revolution. They had been put up by Beetle hands, but not for Beetle masters.

We know so little. For the Beetle-kinden, history proper began five centuries before, when they had thrown off their chains and driven out their masters. Of what had gone before that she had never really thought, until she had met Achaeos. The world appeared different to him, for he stood on the other side of that historic line. To him, the history of the world stretched back and back, full of ancient wars and pacts and rituals, but had been stripped bare in the last few centuries by the voracious jaws of progress. For the Beetle-kinden, history proper began five centuries before, when they had thrown off their chains and driven out their masters. Of what had gone before that she had never really thought, until she had met Achaeos. The world appeared different to him, for he stood on the other side of that historic line. To him, the history of the world stretched back and back, full of ancient wars and pacts and rituals, but had been stripped bare in the last few centuries by the voracious jaws of progress.

And I am standing on his side of that line now. Achaeos knew of entire kinden that his people had once fought, traded with, defeated and cast into the darkness, that were mere myths to the Beetle-kinden, or less than myths. The scholars of Collegium were only now rediscovering the deep roots of the world they lived in, and their tragedy was that they would never understand what they uncovered. Their Apt.i.tude, and therefore the limits of their world-view, would always stand in the way. Achaeos knew of entire kinden that his people had once fought, traded with, defeated and cast into the darkness, that were mere myths to the Beetle-kinden, or less than myths. The scholars of Collegium were only now rediscovering the deep roots of the world they lived in, and their tragedy was that they would never understand what they uncovered. Their Apt.i.tude, and therefore the limits of their world-view, would always stand in the way.

There was magic in the world, once. And her fellow Collegiates would never believe it.

On the road to Porta Rabi, only the slaves travelled first cla.s.s. The Solarnese rug merchant had not been able to conclude his business in time, and so the Collegium delegation were obliged to set out beside the Spider-kinden slaver and her merchandise. She rode beneath a parasol in a howdah atop a burly, plodding beetle, while her stock in trade sat in a covered wagon drawn behind her. They had shade, they had water, and they were always fed first.The guards rode on footboards alongside the trailer, exposed to the sun and dust. Only after a day into the journey did Che realize that these guards were also slaves.

'Why don't they escape?' she asked. 'Why not free the others and escape?'

Trallo gave her the look he reserved for mad foreigners. 'Why should they? They've got it good: get fed, even get money. Only thing they ain't got is freedom, and that's an overvalued commodity.'