Chapter 24
It was after dusk by the time Jaas got back from the celebration, and she was bone tired. She hadn’t participated in any of the Ona matches, even though there had been a fair share of informal matches where anyone could play. She had joined in with the musicians after the tournament had ended, though. As a child, she’d practiced with stringed instruments a great deal. Thankfully the other players had tolerated her lack of practice, until she’d gotten a little more comfortable with the kind of lute they’d given her to play.
She didn’t get the chance to return to the Fishbowl, however. Just like before, she and Nemith had used their fake marks to get back to Telledin patch, but then he’d immediately left the crowd and taken her back to the threads. Arico had been waiting for them, and had spirited her away back to the Hideaway instead. She’d barely had a chance to thank Nemith before he too had disappeared.
“The Sustained will be watching the Enclave very closely right now,” Arico explained as soon as they arrived. “The Hauld figured it’d be safer for us to go here instead.”
Durhu was there as well, waiting for them. He gave his son a broad smile and a big hug, while Jaas looked on uncomfortably. She was grateful Arico had a family that looked after him, but it also reminded her just how far away her own family was. None of them even knew that she was here! That might change, though. If she didn’t keep in regular contact with Lem via the letters leaving the city, he would reach out to her brother for help. Jaas just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She was still hoping to get out of here, and deliver a full and exhaustive report on the city to her superiors back at the Academy. Every time she thought about how they would react, Jaas couldn’t help but smile. They’d probably be torn between disciplining her for breaking the law, and giving her a medal for her discoveries!
As they headed to the secret chamber under the bridge, Arico and Jaas filled Durhu in on what had happened, one after the other. Jaas was surprised to hear that Arico had also taken to the skies, but then it did make sense. The best way to get a message to a hostile crowd without risking your neck would be to drop that message on them from far, far above. It was just something she never would have considered, having never had to think tactically.
Home sweet home, Durhu signed with a wry look, before rolling the hidden door open. Arico looked tired as well. She didn’t see any injuries from the explosion he’d set off, but he was dirty and his shoulders drooped noticeably. He suddenly stiffened, though, looking down into the Hideaway. Flickering lamplight was coming up from below.
Arico and Durhu exchanged glances, drawing their weapons as Arico went down first. Hurriedly, Jaas grabbed a large rock from beside the entrance. It was a poor weapon compared to the ones she’d trained with, but it was better than nothing. Jaas heard a clatter from below as Arico dropped his sword on the floor. Suspiciously, she followed him downstairs with Durhu right behind her.
In the middle of the room, Arico was hugging a strange woman Jaas had never seen before. She was tall and heavyset, with black and gray hair, and wearing simply cut but comfortable-looking brown work clothes. Her expression was one of bliss as she returned the embrace. Durhu immediately sheathed his dagger and joined in the hug with a smile.
Not knowing quite what to do, Jaas stood aside and watched them for a bit. They broke apart and began signing to each other very rapidly. Despite Jaas’ experience with the language, they lost her very quickly. Apparently the stranger was deaf as well, based on the speed her hands were moving.
Jaas gave a polite cough, and Arico suddenly broke away from the group. “I’m sorry,” he said excitedly, beckoning the woman over. “This is my, well… I guess you could call her my aunt, Toria. She’s Durhu’s cousin. We weren’t expecting her until tonight, but Alzhi dropped her off early.”
“It’s so good to finally meet you,” the older woman said, pulling Jaas into an embrace as well. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Somewhat bewildered, Jaas smiled over the woman’s shoulder. Arico had never said anything about his extended family. She’d always assumed it was just him and Durhu in their own little family unit.
Arico seemed to sense her confusion. “Aunt Toria lives in Sevvas patch,” he explained as she let Jaas go. “Or she did until today. She’s been keeping an eye on the Lord Ascendant’s family for us, just like Alzhi keeps an eye on the Ascendant Guard. After my speech today, it wasn’t safe for her to stay there anymore, so she’ll be joining us in the Fishbowl soon enough.”
Jaas nodded. She knew that Durhu’s deafness was a family trait, and it made sense that his cousin would suffer a similar affliction. She must have trained very hard to sound normal. She must be very brave, too, to risk her life by spying on the Lord Ascendant’s manor.
Durhu and Toria paired off, exchanging words quickly and indecipherably, and Jaas let them go. Clearly they had a lot to catch up on. Arico looked like he wanted to join them at first, but then took a breath and looked back at Jaas. “Speaking of surprises,” he said conspiratorially, “I’ve got one for you as well.” He pointed to a corner of the hideout, beyond the cooking pit.
Curious, Jaas rounded the firepit and saw her old pack leaning against the wall. Giving a cry of joy, she rushed over and opened it up. “My scrolls!”
Everything was out of place of course, but it was definitely her stuff. The genealogies, histories, astronomical observations, and maps of the old city… years of her work, suddenly returned to her! Her focus was in the bag too, though inside the city it was really nothing more than a carved twig.
Jaas jumped up and hugged Arico fiercely. “Oh thank you, thank you thank you thankyou!”
He laughed lightly as he lifted her off the ground for a second and then put her back down. “I wasn’t able to get everything, sorry. They were examining some of the documents in another patch, but I figured you’d want that pack at least.”
“You figured right! But how did you get it? Didn’t they have it all under guard?” She let go and looked up at him.
“They were being stored in one of the upper levels of the Library in Penntu patch. It’s where most of the Sustained records are kept, including the Registry itself, though that’s much more heavily guarded. Apparently the Lord Ascendant didn’t trust any of the other Houses with them, so he had his own people watching that floor. After my little display this morning, all the Ascendants had their hands full watching the Laentana and the dwarves, so I decided to hit them where they were the most short-handed.” He rubbed his hands together, and Jaas saw bits of dried blood flake to the ground. “The guards didn’t see us coming, but they still put up a fight anyway.”
“Us?”
“Me and Sabra. After Alzhi pulled him out of the celebration, I brought him to Penntu with me. Then he came back here with Aunt Toria.” Arico pointed over to another corner. In the darkness, Jaas could make out the massive, slow-breathing form of her giant friend lying on two cots pushed together. Jaas hadn’t noticed him before, what with Aunt Toria’s presence. He must have had a hard time squeezing through the human-sized entryway to get down into the Hideaway.
“I’ll thank him when he wakes up,” Jaas said brusquely. Her fatigue suddenly forgotten, she sat down on the ground near the firepit and began organizing her papers without delay. After a few minutes, she realized they’d brought her bag from the Fishbowl as well. Along with her field notes and the records of the local language changes… this could take all night! Dimly she was aware of Arico joining the other conversation across the room, and giving her some space.
-.-
Dawn crept its way over the hill, sending rays of warmth and light across the abandoned streets and buildings near the Hideaway. Arico sat cross-legged on one of the bridges, trying to center his breathing. He wasn’t worried about being spotted (he was far enough away from the threads), but the enormity of the task he’d just begun was finally settling in on him. Odjes had taught him a few meditation techniques that helped, but none of them staunched the feeling that he would soon be drowning in responsibility.
All the same, he still felt giddy from yesterday. He’d spoken to the entire city! He’d laid bare the lies the Council had been spinning for centuries. He’d papered the Sustained celebration, and gotten Jaas’ records back as well! And soon he would be seeing just how much traction his revelations had gained with the stra’tchi.
“Do you feel pride over what you’ve done?”
The voice was misty, intangible. Arico opened his eyes and saw Odjes sitting facing him on the bridge.
“Shouldn’t I?” Arico said defensively. “I’ve done something no one in Patchwork has ever done before. Several things!”
“Oh, there’s no denying that,” Odjes admitted softly, reaching out between them. A game board appeared under his hands, and he made one of his typical aggressive moves. “I’m certainly proud of you.”
Arico felt taken aback. It wasn’t like his dream-friend to just admit to that. He’d been friendly and reliable to Arico over the years, but sparing at best with his praises. He’d served as a sounding board, always willing to hear Arico out and respond with witty and insightful advice.
“I am concerned, though,” Odjes continued more predictably. “Are you sure your heart’s in this fight you’ve started?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Arico felt a little more comfortable now that Odjes had returned to his advice-giving pattern. “This is everything I’ve wanted… everything I’ve trained for, for my entire life!”
“Not all your life,” Odjes countered softly. “Remember Nouma?”
His lip twisting at the thought, Arico didn’t respond at first. The game board was set up just like it had been during his last dream. Sometimes a game between them would last for several weeks. Sometimes the game was the only part of the sha’haln dreams he could remember. “As if I could forget Nouma,” he answered at last, moving one of his own pieces to reinforce his beleaguered left flank. “It was a mistake, to think I could fit love and a happy life into my mission. And it won’t happen again.”
“Really? Then what’s she doing here?” Odjes tilted his head to the left, his eyes on something behind Arico.
Arico looked over his shoulder. Jaas was there too, about twenty spans behind him and surrounded by her papers. She waved at him with a friendly look in her eyes, before returning to her work.
Arico supposed he should feel upset, but didn’t really. It was the first time Jaas had ever come here. Something about her presence felt… right, though. She didn’t pay any notice to Odjes, even though she’d certainly never met him before. That meant she was just another part of his dream.
“She’s here because she’s important to the cause, obviously.” Arico explained patiently. “She’s a noted scholar, a mage, and of course, the Harbinger.”
“But why haven’t you told her that?” Odjes insisted. “Wouldn’t it be better if she heard the whole thing from you or Durhu, instead of hearing it from some stranger?”
“I’m getting to that. I just needed to find the right time.”
Odjes only raised his eyebrows. Letting out a frustrated growl, Arico concentrated briefly. In answer to his summons a great wind swept past them, blowing her image through the threads and out of sight. For once though, the wind he called down on them actually felt like wind! An instant later, Arico was back in the glider, barreling down towards the threads at high speed with the wind whipping past his face.
Only this time the glider had a second seat, and Odjes was in it. “She’s taken everything else you’ve told her in stride,” his voice cut through the wind. “Why hesitate to tell her the truth about the prophecy as well? I think there’s more to it.”
Arico shook his head and tried to focus on the ride. “Think what you want.”
Odjes didn’t say anything[/i] more, but Arico could feel his gaze to the side. As always, his dream-friend would keep gently persuading him, dream after dream, until Arico eventually admitted that he was right. Or that Arico was right, actually, because Odjes was nothing but a part of Arico’s mind.
Closing his eyes, Arico began to control his heart and breathing again. It was more difficult than usual, possibly because he liked the wind so much, but before long he could feel the dream-scape start to shift around him again. The sun’s rays faded away, and the wind’s noise gradually disappeared as well.
Replaced by the faint sound of a fireplace.
Breathing deeply, Arico opened his eyes and sat up in the Hideaway. Durhu and Sabra were still asleep in their cots along one wall, Aunt Toria along another, and it seemed Jaas had finally decided to get some rest as well. She was laid out on the ground next to the flames, surrounded on three sides by papers arranged on the floor.
Odjes had made a clear implication: that Arico had feelings for Jaas. For once though, he was dead wrong. True, she’d shown up in the sha’haln dream, but that wasn’t surprising. She’d already been an enormous help to the movement, and as the Harbinger she might be even more important soon. Arico squared his shoulders as he looked down at her. His time with Nouma had been a mistake—him trying to live a life that wasn’t his to begin with. He could have very easily put her life in danger, and he wasn’t about to repeat that mistake. Jaas deserved better than that.
-.-
“So, lass. What’dye think?” The Hauld peered up at her with a sly smile on his sturdy features.
In truth, Jaas didn’t know what to think. The machine in front of them was a mystery to her. But she supposed she should come up with something nice to say. “It looks… very impressive, sir.”
There was an awkward moment of silence between them, as the Hauld’s smirk gradually grew bigger. Jaas smiled as well, finally admitting defeat. “All right. All right. I’ll ask the question. What is it?”
For once it was just her and the Hauld. They were in a small room off the main corridor in his keep. When he’d deemed it safe, Arico had brought everyone from the Hideaway to the Fishbowl, and most of them had set up shop there, including his aunt Toria. He and Durhu had moved back into the dwelling already arranged for them off of one of the Fishbowl passages. Sabra had his own room near the top of the Bowl, which despite being the largest one they had, was probably still massively uncomfortable for him. Not that he would complain about it, though. Deathwatchers never whined about things that annoyed them, and despite not being human, Sabra was no exception to that.
Arico was still upstairs working on something else, and the nearest guards were a few rooms away standing at their posts. In private like this, the Hauld seemed more comfortable. More personable. Still chuckling, the Hauld stepped over to the machine and lifted a long wooden covering from the front. “See fer yerself.”
Beneath it, Jaas could see two black metal plates inside the machine. A closer look showed that each had… letters on it. They were written in Vasrah, just slightly above the rest of the metal. She didn’t understand. Why would anyone carve letters into metal plates? It was sturdy, sure, but it would be terribly heavy, and the writing itself must have taken days!
“We call this tha Stamp,” he explained, slowly removing the plates and showing them to her. It was hard to read what was on them against the black backdrop, but she could make out bits and pieces. With a breath of realization, she recognized the speech Arico had made at the Laentana! Or a variation of it anyway.
Possibilities swirled through her head. Did they mean to memorialize his speech for future generations? No, they would have written it in dwarven. What was it, then? The Hauld slowly lowered the metal plates to the ground, and gave her a curious look. “Arico told me wha’ he stole fer ye, lass. Papers upon papers, includin’ a list?”
Jaas nodded. “The names of people who used to live here before the Threading, and their professions.”
“An’ how long dye think it’ll take ta copy tha’ list?”
Jaas grimaced. “Days. Maybe weeks to copy everything. I wanted to make a copy in case my pack was stolen again, but it would just take too long!”
The Hauld chuckled again, and patted the machine. “Na wit’ this, lass. Here, lemme show yeh.”
He lifted the plates again and moved to behind the machine, beckoning her to follow. Back there, resting on a large table, was a kind of leather-bound oval bowl attached to a metal stick about the length of her forearm. The Hauld deposited both plates on the table, words facing up, and picked up whatever the bowl thing was. From underneath the table, he pulled a pan filled with black powder and poured a small bit of it on the table.
It looked like sparkpowder, but it was a little too fine for that. Suddenly all the pieces fit together, and Jaas smiled. She almost interrupted, but decided she wanted to see the whole process.
The Hauld rolled the bowl-shape in the powdered ink for about a minute, and then transferred the ink to the metal plates. It must have been made of something soft, because it spread the ink pretty evenly across the metal as he brought the bowl down repeatedly. Finally, he picked up the plates again and put them back in the machine.
“This is why we call it tha Stamp,” he said, and pulled a long wooden lever near the top of the machine. His muscles strained with effort, and the space between the top of the machine and the metal plates quickly disappeared. A flat piece of paper inside the upper portion was compressed into the metal plate. He held it there for a few seconds before releasing the lever and removing the paper inside.
Jaas stared at it with an amazed smile. “Incredible.” The writing was perfectly legible and understandable. She doubted she could have written it more perfectly.
The Hauld merely shrugged. “Tha Sustained use smaller machines like this one. We jus’ made i’ better is all.”
“And you want to use this to copy my list?” Jaas said slowly. “That could take a while. You’d need to make a metal plate for each page, so you’d need a few blacksmiths working together. You’d also need a lot of paper. How many copies do you want to make?”
“One fer each patch, lass. Mor’n five hundred in all. But dinnae ye worry. We’ll make one copy fer now, an’ make more when we find enough paper. We were gonna copy tha Book o’ Aquun firs’, so when you showed up wit’ yer list, i’s a small-fry by comparison.”
That made sense to Jaas. She’d been able to read passages out of the Hauld’s copy of the Book of Aquun. It referred to everyone living in Patchwork as children of Aquun—all equal, and all loved equally. If they could teach the stra’tchi to read, and distribute enough copies of the Book of Aquun, it would give the people another example of how they were being exploited and controlled. Apparently her list of names took priority over that, though.
“I take it you like what you see?” Arico’s voice filtered down to them from back by the stairs. Jaas turned and saw Durhu and Toria peeking past him into the room as well.
“Oh, I love it,” Jaas said truthfully. “There are spells in the Outside that people use to copy messages, but I never thought anyone could do it this fast or this accurately without magic! This is wonderful!” Belatedly, she noticed a carefully folded cloth in his hands. “What’s that?”
Arico hesitated, and gripped the cloth in his hands. “I assume you heard talk about the prophecies during the Laentana. About the Harbinger? Nemith said you were asking about them, but he didn’t know how much to tell you.” He glanced at the Hauld with a not-quite-accusing look in his eye. “We kept this secret before now because we felt it was safer, but now that the movement is out in the open, you need to know everything.”
Jaas felt a little unsettled at that. Between the theatrics at the Laentana, and the return of her papers, she’d somewhat forgotten her questions about the Harbinger. Now it seemed they would be answered whether she asked them or not.
“Yeh saw tha ruins o’ tha old palace, right, lass? Tha crystal shards outside o’ Sevvas patch?” The Hauld inquired, sitting down on one of the benches near the Stamp.
Jaas nodded as she and the others followed suit. There was plenty of room here, most likely for dwarven metalworkers to be comfortable while they reconfigured the metal lettering. “Well, o’r tha years, people’ve been findin’ messages on those crystal pieces. Four or five in all, we think. Each fragment had some message abou’ tha future, once translated. An’ each message event’ly came true.”
“The first one predicted a Tumult that no one saw coming,” Arico put in, while Jaas just sat there. She’d never believed in prophecies before. They were all lucky guesswork or attention-seeking stunts, as far as she was concerned. Even so, it seemed most of the people in this room were taking them seriously.
“One of the lords in House Mason kidnapped a Farrier princess over two hundred years ago,” he elaborated. “It sparked a fight that lasted over a year, and spread across nearly all of Patchwork as the other Houses jumped in on one side or another. But no one expected it to start in the first place! Somehow, whoever wrote that prophecy knew what would happen, and left a warning for others to find on that crystal!”
“Tha nex’ one predicted a flood o’ tha Waters o’er two months in advance, an’ tha’s precisely wha’ happened,” the Hauld confirmed.
“No one knows why they’re recorded on those crystal fragments, or who wrote them,” Arico concluded grimly, “but they’ve all come true. Aquun herself must have blessed whoever put them there, because some of them have actually been used to avoid a lot of suffering.”
“Let me guess,” Jaas continued for them. “The most recent prophecy, whenever it was dug up, was about someone coming from the Outside. And it named that person the Harbinger?”
Toria’s jaw dropped fractionally, and Arico and Durhu smiled over at her. “Told you she was quick,” Arico said smugly.
Jaas ignored the compliment as she considered the ramifications of what she’d heard. Divination magic could accurately gather information over great distances, but then magic didn’t work here. It might be possible for a skilled spymaster—such as this Huun woman she’d heard of—to make predictions about a coming war, but that didn’t explain the prediction about the river. No, she still didn’t buy it. There had to be another factor here, something no one had considered yet.
Arico seemed to sense she was ready to hear more. He unfolded the cloth and carefully showed it to her. As he displayed it, a sense of quiet fell over the room. It seemed infectious, because Jaas felt a kind of reverence come over her as well. Curiously, she looked over the words written on the cloth.
“The most recent crystal fragment was dug up five years ago,” Arico explained gravely. “Aunt Toria got ahold of one of the copies made of it, though she couldn’t see the original. The crystal’s locked up deep in Penntu patch, in a heavily guarded vault.”
“I can see why you wanted me to take a look at it,” Jaas admitted. “It’s written in Aseonic Patali: an obscure dialect.” She looked up at them. “I assume you’ve had it translated?”
“As much as we could. I’m no language expert, but the Hauld had his own people look at it. I was hoping you’d be able to help with that.” He cleared the table and carefully spread out the cloth so she could read it.
Again she felt that sense of importance from all of them. Jaas decided to read it aloud. “When the threads are torn and the fabric weakened, the Harbinger arrives from beyond. The twin powers of Unborn and Shorn serve as guide, the Archivist with knowledge, and under the Harbinger’s gaze, comes the end.”
Jaas looked up from the tablet. “Well, that’s pretty much solid nonsense. It could mean anything!”
“Maybe not, lass,” the Hauld said softly. “Tha dwarves ne’r really believed in these prophecies, but i’s kinda hard te ignore anymore. Ye’r tha firs’ person, ever, ta come into Patchwork. If tha prophecy’s true, then ye’r tha Harbinger. No doubt abou’ it.”
“This prophecy was written at least five years ago, probably much longer. How could they possibly have predicted you would come here when no one else has?” Arico’s voice was firm. His earlier statement about Aquun rang in her ears. He probably wouldn’t confirm it aloud, but it was pretty clear he believed it.
Jaas stayed quiet, looking over the original text. The translation seemed pretty easy, start to finish. The text was faded though, and the cloth itself had been ripped. Probably when Toria had stolen it, but maybe even before that. “Unborn and Shorn are written in the accentuated transitive form,” she thought out loud. “So is Archivist. In Aseonic Patali, that means they’re proper nouns. The names of people. Do you have any idea who they could be?”
Arico shook his head. “And we don’t know for sure what the ‘fabric’ is, either. There was an earthquake, for the first time anyone can remember, that happened just as you arrived. Maybe the magic that holds the threads in place—the fabric of threads—was weakened when you passed through them.”
Jaas looked over the last part of it again. “Under the Harbinger’s gaze, comes the end. But the end of what?”
No one answered her at first. Arico and Durhu shared an uncomfortable glance. The end of the city, some think. Durhu signed slowly. Many people think the Harbinger brings the end of all life here.
Jaas shook her head. It was just another prediction of doom, and she’d heard her fair share of those Outside. So as far as the people in this city were concerned, she was some kind of prophetic icon. Part of her wanted to blame Arico for ‘outing’ her in his speech, but she supposed it would have gotten out eventually. “I guess we play this by ear, then.”
