The Emperor of Everything

“It seems an oddly complicated system, in a place where one may as easily soar through the air,” remarked Dolmaero, as if he couldn’t quite believe in such an eccentric concept.

“Perhaps,” said Ruiz. “But it works reliably, uses little energy, and provides a safe and picturesque means of travel. For example, we wouldn’t have crashed into a mountainside, had we traveled by barge.”

“A point,” Dolmaero conceded.

“And how do we summon one of these barges?” demanded Flomel.

Ruiz smiled a bit sadly. “You’ve cut to the heart of our present difficulty, I fear. We have no means of calling up a barge — we must hope that one happens by before Corean catches up with us.”

Flomel snorted contemptuously. The others looked stricken, except for Nisa, who perhaps had come to rely too greatly on Ruiz’s luck.

“It’s not so bad,” Ruiz said. “One passed through just a few minutes ago. I rode it a short distance, to see if it was feasible.”

“So that’s where you were?” Dolmaero looked just the smallest bit skeptical, and Ruiz realized: He knows me better than any of the others, even Nisa.

“Yes. The barges move rapidly, but not so fast that we won’t be able to jump aboard — provided that their decks are undefended, as the last one was.”

“Meanwhile, what shall we do? Shall we eat? It’s lunch-time.” Molnekh looked cheerfully famished.

“Why not?”

They sat on the landing’s steps and ate the last of Corean’s food. Ruiz tried to clear his mind of the unpleasantnesses that, it seemed, must soon occur. He had no reasonable hope that another barge would pass through before Corean caught up with them; still, why deny the sweetness of the moment. The sun was warm on his back, and Nisa sat close to him, her thigh pressed comfortably against his. It was possible that Corean would not arrive until tomorrow morning — if not, he hoped to enjoy another night in Nisa’s arms. It seemed a worthwhile way of spending his last night.

No! He mustn’t accept, he mustn’t give up. Cold rationality would be of little use at this point; an entirely rational being in his position would have long ago perished.

He examined the landing with an eye to ambush. He had the splinter gun. He could hide the others in the bushes. He could tie Flomel to one of the landing’s poles, a sacrificial goat. Maybe Corean would assume Flomel to be excess baggage left behind when they fled, and stop to question him. Who could tell; perhaps Corean would be foolish enough to emerge from her boat unarmored, and he could potshot her. He looked up at the carved gate. If Corean’s craft approached the clearing at a low level, as would be the case if she was using mech sniffers, Ruiz might be able to hide atop the lintel, in the wingfolds of one of the granite reptiles.

Well, it was a plan, though not a terribly good one. Still, it was far better than supine acceptance.

Ruiz finished his lunch and leaned back against the warm stone. Suppose another barge actually did arrive. How would he get everyone aboard? The barges apparently moved at a fairly high speed. Ruiz might be able to run fast enough to keep up with one for a short distance but none of the others seemed that quick. They’d have one chance to jump aboard; anyone who missed would be left behind. Flomel would try to be a problem; if he dragged his feet, he might slow one of them disastrously.

The others had finished their lunch and were sitting in a silent group on the other side of the landing steps, looking about aimlessly.

Ruiz stood. “Come,” he said. “Let’s discuss strategy.”

The others rose. Dolmaero tugged Flomel to his feet; the mage now regarded the Guildmaster with the same virulent hatred he directed at Ruiz.

“To the canalside,” said Ruiz.

When they all stood on the bank, Ruiz spoke. “The problem is more complex than it looks. The barges move rapidly, and we will have but one chance to board — supposing that the barges are uncrewed and undefended, as the last one was. Also, we don’t know which way the barge will be coming. If it’s going south, that would be best, since we are on this bank. However, if it’s going north, it will travel in the far channel.”

“How will we reach it?” asked Dolmaero.

“A good question. I have a plan; it may work.” Ruiz glanced at the trees on the north side of the clearing. He selected an overhanging branch about the diameter of Flomel’s neck, pulled the splinter gun out, and fired a burst. The spinning wires cut through the wood and dropped the branch into the canal, where it shuddered and disintegrated.

Molnekh stepped cautiously back from the verge. “I’d been hoping for a bath,” he said wryly.

Ruiz smiled and shrugged. “Inadvisable.” He turned to Flomel. “I must warn you now, Master Flomel. If you’re in any way obstructive, I’ll have to use the gun; I can’t let Corean catch you, as richly as you deserve that fate.”

Flomel swallowed, eyes wide. “I understand.” For the moment the mage seemed subdued and tractable.