Blood of the Mantis

‘I thought your kin employed… people to do that sort of thing for you?’ Parops said.

‘But the Moth-kinden? And the Mantids? They’ve been trying to hold back time for five hundred years,’ she said. ‘You can imagine what they think of this.’

‘Is that what they’re saying out in the Foreigners’ Quarter?’ Stenwold asked her.

‘They’re saying all manner of things, Stenwold, but it’s a pattern I recognize. They’re saying that the Vekken are going to attack here simultaneously when the Wasps do, and that Sarn should finish Vek off for good. They’re saying that the Assembly of Collegium will fold if the Empire comes against it, and will then make a deal to betray Sarn. They’re saying that the Ancient League will try to bring back the bad old days, and then make everyone slaves of the Moths.’

‘Nothing unexpected then.’

‘It’s exactly the sort of thing we were spreading, back when…’

She did not finish the sentence, but he understood. Perhaps Parops did not know that she had been Rekef originally, but he was the only one in the room that did not.

‘So you think the Wasps are active here.’

‘It would be surprising if they weren’t,’ she said. ‘They’re no fools, after all. They’ll want to use our age-old enmities to break up this alliance, and they’ve got a lot of raw material to use. Half of the ambassadors are only here to keep eyes on their old enemies.’

‘I won’t believe that,’ Stenwold said, with more force than hope. ‘I can’t believe that. This must work. We have no other option. Everyone is thinking about what might happen after the war is won, but without an alliance we won’t win the war! How can they not see that?’

‘Because they’re Lowlanders,’ said Arianna. She went to stand behind Stenwold, putting her hands on his shoulders and kneading the tension there. ‘I hate to say it, Sten, but you Lowlanders all look out on the world with one eye closed. Even you, Sten. You look a little further, but it’s still mostly inwards. In the Spiderlands we look in all directions, see all possibilities. Our brand of politics teaches us that. Even the Empire looks outwards: it’s young, aggressive, pushing at the borders all the time. That’s why it’s here.’

‘So what are we going to do?’ he asked quietly. ‘What do I say, when the Queen of Sarn demands this wretched invention? Who do I betray?’

‘So long as it’s not me, and it’s not yourself,’ Arianna told him, ‘I trust you to make the right decision.’

A Sarnesh servant arrived then, almost on cue.

‘Master Maker,’ he announced, ‘the Queen is ready for your private audience.’

Stenwold glanced at his fellows and took up the prototype snapbow. Who do I betray? There was no answer, and yet he was running out of time to avoid that question.

‘Lead on, Master…?’ he said, because he had no idea which of the Sarnesh this servant was.

‘My name is Lyrus, Master Maker,’ the servant said cordially. ‘If you would please come with me.’

Fifteen

Taki had used her second chute to rewind her engines, and Che was beginning to wonder how much longer her own machine would keep running. They were currently out over the middle of the Exalsee, a broad and island-studded expanse of sun-dappled water. That was when Taki suddenly pulled back, and Che could see her gesturing wildly, shouting something that could not be heard over rush of wind and the Stormcry’s low growl.

What? I’m clear of the water, was Che’s first thought. Taki was still gesturing, though, swinging closer and then further away to try and convey some urgent message. Che almost thought she could hear her Fly companion’s high voice over the engine’s throb.

Despite herself, she looked down, and felt a chill as she noticed a shape in the water, a great dark ellipse. It was not some fish or water monster, though, but simply a huge shadow.

She looked up to see an airship drifting high above them, shimmering blue and silver and reflecting all the colours of the sky. The words of the Creev came back to her: How are they getting in? But, of course, an airship the same colour as the sky might go many places and not be seen.

At first she thought its pontoons bore four engines, but then she saw them fall away from the main craft, accelerating towards her. Orthopters: four of them.

A moment later she saw a finger-sized hole punched through the fabric of the Stormcry’s wing and realized they were shooting at her.

Taki threw the Esca Volenti round in a tight turn, wings beating furiously. Without thinking, her hands were releasing the catches that engaged the cogs of the rotary piercer mounted in front of her. With a low whine the weapon began to spin.

The sky arced round before her as, in her mind, Taki began working out how long she had left before her engine began to run down.