Диана Дуэйн - To Visit the Queen

"Yeah," he said, "but the spell's not. Radiation."
"The problem won't be the Van Allen belts," Rhiow said. "We're well away from them. Solar flare, possibly – "
Urruah gave Rhiow a look. You are an optimist, he said silently.
"I don't think so," Arhu said. "I need a better look. Come on – "
He started to walk upwards as if on a stairway: a good trick, Rhiow thought, if he was using the air trapped with them to do it. She got up and carefully went up after him, none too concerned about the actual instrumentality at the moment – and much more concerned that the bubble of air should follow them all up, as Urruah came stepping carefully up behind her. She also took some care with how she went in the low gravity. Falling off Arhu's invisible stairway, and down and out of the spell, would be unfortunate.
The spell followed them with no problems: its diameter was at least ten meters, and Arhu had apparently designated himself as its center. They walked upward for perhaps a quarter mile before Arhu stopped, standing there in the middle of nothing and looking down on the desolate landscape. Rhiow looked down too, and drew in a long painful breath. The crater off to the northward, the one which had produced the brown ejecta, lay plain before them. It was at least five miles in diameter, and ran all the way to the far horizon northward. Great fissures ran from it, in all directions but mostly toward the north. The bottom of the crater was glazed as if with ice, but it was not ice: it shone with a bitter, brittle gleam under the slanting light of the sun.
"So what would you make it?" Urruah said after a moment's silence. "A
megaton or so? And there are a lot more of these. Some particularly big impacts up in the northern hemisphere … "
Rhiow's tail lashed furiously. "The only good thing about this," she said, "is that they did this up here and not on Earth. But still –­what a message."
"Yes indeed," Urruah said. "For every other pride of ehhif in the world to see, every time the Moon comes up. "Look what we could do to you, if we wanted to." The question is – which ehhif down there are doing it?" He glanced at the gibbous-waning Earth hanging above the horizon.
"When we come back," Rhiow said, "we're going to have to find out. The Lone One has seen to it somehow that these people have been given the most dangerous technology that they could possibly get their hands on. With the assumption, I'm sure, that they'll certainly destroy themselves. What we're going to have to do is fly in the face of that certainty and stop it."
"If we can," Urruah said. He sounded rather muted: even his supreme self-confidence was having trouble dealing with this.
"Space travel as well," Arhu said. "They can come up here and see what's here … and then they do this." He was bristling.
"If we're very lucky, we may be able to keep them from doing worse," Rhiow said. "But even here, I don't want to linger. The longer we stay in this universe … the more we endanger our own."
"Let's get back down then," Urruah said. The timeslide won't have self-activated yet, but that doesn't matter. It functioned: that part of our test is a success. We can come back when we need to. And as for this – " He too was fluffed up as he looked down around him.
"Arhu," he said after a moment, "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen it this way, you first time out."
"No, it's all right," Arhu said. "We needed to do it: you were right. But let's go home."
He paused, standing there on nothing, and narrowed his eyes. A second later they were standing on the old dock by the Thames again, and Rhiow's ears were ringing with the bang! of displaced air which accompanied their appearance. There were ehhif walking by the river, further eastward, but they paid no attention to the sound at all.
"They probably think it's a car backfiring or something," Urruah muttered.
"Maybe so," Rhiow said, "and I'll be glad to get back where that kind of perception is normal for its time. Come on!"
They made their way as quickly as they dared, sidled, back to Old Jewry, the street where the other end of the timeslide was sited. It was hard to avoid the ehhif, sometimes, they were so crowded together, and Rhiow was bruised or kicked more than once as the team made its way toward the timeslide.
They were about to break into a run across the noise and muck of George Street again, making for Old Jewry, when to Rhiow's complete astonishment, Arhu, ahead of her, suddenly darted through a thicket of walking legs and westward down George Street. "Arhu!' she cried. "What are you – " "Just two blinks – !' he said, and dodged around a corner. Rhiow and Urruah crowded against a nearby building, staring after him. Not quite two blinks later – more like two blinks and a quick scrub –­he reappeared, dodging among the ehhif. He was unsidled, and had something large and white in his mouth: it flapped as he came. Ehhif pointed and laughed at Arhu as he ran.
He ran straight past Urruah and Rhiow, and straight across George Street, weaving expertly to avoid the traffic. Rhiow and Urruah threw each other a look and went after him at speed. All three made it to the far side together, as more horse carriages and a few more of the antique cars came splashing and rattling down through the mud at them.
Arhu was spattered but triumphant. "I saw an ehhif drop it," he said, and dropped it himself, going sidled again.
"How could you see him around the corner?" Urruah said, while Rhiow peered curiously at the thing. It said, THE TIMES, AUGUST 18, 1875, and everywhere else it was covered with small fine print in ehhif English. It would hardly have passed for a newspaper in New York: it seemed to have only three pages, no pictures, and no ads.
Arhu wrinkled his nose up. "I mean, I see him," he said. "I still see him now, even though he did it already. Au, Rhiow, the way we talk about time doesn't work right for talking about vision. I need new words or something … "
"One last check," Urruah said, and held his head up as if sniffing for something. Rhiow looked at him, bemused.
"What?" she said.
"I've been feeling around me with a detector spell ever since we got here," Urruah said. "But to no effect. You remember Mr.. Illingworth? Well, there's no sign of him."
"You mean, after all this, he's not from here?"
"I don't know what it means," Urruah said, "and at the moment, I'm not going to hang around to find out. Come on!"
Arhu picked up the paper again, coming unsidled as he did so, and they headed down the little street together, keeping to one side, for there were some ehhif passing up and down it together. Urruah stopped at one point and felt around with his paw in the mud. "All right," he said, "there's the "tripwire". Now if these vhai'd ehhif will just go away – "
It took some minutes: there were several false starts in which the street would look like it was going to be clear, and then another ehhif or two or three would come along from one end or the other. This left Rhiow with nothing to do but watch her own tension increase, and try to reduce it. Oh, please let the world still be there when we get back, our own world, please – ! Meanwhile, Arhu had to keep dropping the paper and picking it up, to avoid being seen by the ehhif. "It's all right, isn't it?" he said suddenly. "Bringing things back?"
"Or forward in this case?" Rhiow said. "Yes. Things are all right. Anything alive, that's where the complications start … "
"Quick," said Urruah. The street was empty, and he had pulled the
"tripwire'. The circle of the timeslide spell sprang into being around them. "Ready? Brace yourselves – "
Rhiow tried, but against that awful pressure there was no way you could brace, nothing you could do but endure as everything, light and breath and almost life, was squeezed out of you. Hang on, she thought, it can't last much longer, hang on –

"What's the matter?" Auhlae said. "Didn't it work?"
"Perfect!' Urruah said. "Right to the tenth of a second." The rest of his pleasure in the accuracy of his spelling got lost for Rhiow in a rush of astonishment and delight that the world seemed, by and large, to be the way they had left it. But the delight didn't last. She couldn't get rid of the image of that other world's Moon, and of the certainty that, unless they could work out what had gone wrong and what to do about it, their own Moon would look that way before long. Urruah was right: reality resisted being changed. But it could not resist such change indefinitely: and the rumbling dark of the Underground tunnels almost immediately looked a lot less welcome, and started to look rather like a trap.
"We should get everyone together," she said to Auhlae. "If you thought you had trouble with random temporal accesses … when we show you what we've found, you'll wish a few stray pastlings were all you had … "
FOUR
"They have nuclear weapons??" Huff said.
"Whether they're exactly weapons the way we would define them, I don't know," Rhiow said. "We were hardly there long enough to guess anything about their delivery systems. Do they have missiles? I haven't a clue. But do they know how to produce large nuclear explosions? You'd best believe it."
Relative silence fell in the corner of the pub where the London and New York gating teams sat that evening: the only other sound was the occasional dinging and idiot music played by what the London team referred to as the "fruit machines". Rhiow much wished the machines, ranged around the back wall of this room of the pub, would emit something as innocent as fruit, instead of the deafening shower and clatter of one-pound coins that came out of them every now and then when ehhif played with them. As evening drew on and The Mint started to fill up, the hope of a pile of those coins was starting to keep the machines busy with ehhif who drifted in, fed the machines money, and then shook and banged them when they didn't give it back again, with dividends. It was, in its way, a charming illustration of some ehhif faith in the truism that what you gave the universe, it would give back: but they were plainly a little confused about the timing of such returns, or the percentages involved.
"But just the idea of them blowing up the Moon," Siffha'h said. "It's awful. It'll be themselves, next … "
Rhiow, tucked down in the "meatloaf configuration", twitched her tail in agreement. "It was always a favorite tactic of the Lone One's," she said. "Tricking life into undoing itself. And so doing, mocking the Powers, which tend to let life take care of itself, by and large." "They were lucky not to bring the whole thing down on top of them," Fhrio said. "Imagine if they had hit one of those deep lunar 'mantle faults' and blown it apart. Just think of the tidal effects on the Earth … and then the fragment impacts later."
"I'm sure sa'Rrahh would have been delighted," Huff said. He was lying on his side, finishing one more wash after acting as courier for yet another round of snacks for the assembled group. "I wouldn't say that was her main intent in this case, as Lone Power, but it would have been entirely acceptable. As it is, it looks like the poor ehhif back then have been given the quickest way for an unprepared or immature species to kill itself off … tried and tested in other parts of this Galaxy and others. And if that universe settles fully into place before we can dislodge it, we'll find ourselves living on the Earth that's a direct 'historical successor to that one. If 'living" is the word I'm looking for … because we'll be in the middle of the nuclear winter."
"Well, all we have to do now," Siffha'h said, "is figure out what to do about this."
"Oh, yes, that's all," Fhrio said.
Rhiow paid no more attention to this remark than the others seemed to be doing, instead glancing over toward the corner. Half-hidden by the arrangement of a couple of the fruit machines, Arhu's newspaper was spread out on the floor, and he was bent over it, carefully puzzling out the words. Rhiow had always found it useful that understanding of the Speech let a wizard understand other written languages as well as all spoken ones. Normally she didn't get too carried away by this advantage: but Arhu had been turning into a voracious reader of ehhif printed material of all kinds, everything from the big advertisements posted up here and there in Grand Central to scraps of newspaper and magazines that people dropped on the platforms, or the complete papers that Urruah fished out of the garbage bins at regular intervals. Urruah had claimed, with some pride, that Arhu was taking after him in his erudition. Rhiow agreed, but was clearer about the reasons for it. Arhu was nosy … nearly as nosy as Urruah, and with a taste for gossip and scandal nearly as profound. She couldn't really complain: that insatiable curiosity was part of what made them good at being wizards. At the same time, sometimes the habit drove Rhiow nearly crazy. Urruah's endlessly relayed tales about the sexual peculiarities and mishaps of ehhif made her wish very much that Urruah would read more of the kind of newspapers which did not feature headlines like HEADLESS BODY IN TOPLESS BAR.
What had become immediately plain was that, in 1875 at least, The Times of London was not that kind of newspaper. There was hardly anything to it. A front page which was almost entirely classified ads, both commercial and private: then interior pages which reported what seemed to the publishers to be important news – most of it having to do with ehhif from the pride-of-prides "Britain", or other prides closely associated with it – and then long reports about what was going on in the place where the pride-rulers sat, the "Houses of Parliament".
"This is mostly a lot of small stuff," Arhu said, glancing up at the others in the momentary quiet. "Ehhif buying and selling dens to live in, and renting them out: or asking other ehhif to come and work with them: or buying and selling little things, or asking other ehhif to help them find things they've lost. Some other news about shows and plays they want ehhif to go to: and then news about the pride-ruler and what he does all day. That's the interesting part: it's not a
Queen. It's a King."
Huff breathed out heavily. "Then the old Queen is dead in that eighteen seventy-five," he said. "There's a major change. In our world she lived on almost into the next century."
"But the world's different, that's for sure," Arhu said. "They have all kinds of things that the Whispering says weren't there in our world's eighteen seventy-five. A lot of machines like our time's ehhif have: even computers, though I don't think they're as smart as the ones in our time. And they've definitely got space travel, though it's as it is in our world: only the pride-rulers use it. I think it's for weapons too, mostly."
"Orbital?" Fhrio said.
"I don't know," Arhu said. "They don't seem eager to talk about it in here. They talk a lot about war, though … " He ran one paw down the page. "See. Here's the bombing that the Illingworth ehhif was talking about.
" 'The Continental powers have once again defied the King-Emperor's edict by using mechanical flying bombs based at Calais and Dieppe to strike at civilian targets in the south of Sussex and Essex. The Royal Air Force, led by units of His Majesty's 8th Flying Hussars, succeeded in destroying nearly all elements of the attack, but several flying bombs were knocked off course by the defending forces and exploded in suburban areas of Brighton and Hove, causing civilian casualties and destruction to a large area. The Ministry of War has announced that these attacks will be the cause of the most severe reprisal at a time of the Government's choosing – ""
Arhu stopped, his tail twitching slowly. Fhrio was growling under his breath. "This island has not been bombed since the second of the great ehhif wars in this century," Huff said. "That they should have been doing such things then … Does it say what they mean by "the Continental powers"?"
Arhu looked at the paper, reached out and carefully turned the middle leaf of it over with his paw. "I don't see any specific pride names," he said. "Maybe they expect everybody to know what they're talking about."
Huff sighed. "There's no question that this is useful," he said, "but it's not nearly enough to base an intervention on. How I wish the Whispering could throw some light on this … "
Rhiow shook her head. "She seems unable to discuss what's happening in an alternate universe," she said. "Is it possibly outside the Whisperer's brief? Would it be speculation, even for her? – which as we know is something she won't indulge in. Or is this simply something we're supposed to have to find out for ourselves … ?"
"Whichever," Urruah said, stretching, "the result is the same. But I wouldn't take too long about it. That other universe has 'become real' … and now it and ours are going to be starting to fight it out for primacy between them, though we can't feel the effects at the moment."
"We will soon enough," Fhrio growled. "The gates will be the first symptom. When something starts going wrong with them – "
"You mean, besides what's going wrong already," Arhu said.
Fhrio sat up, glaring at Arhu, and lifted one paw. Urruah looked over at Fhrio.
"I wouldn't," he said. "Anybody gets to shred his ears for tactlessness, it's me. Arhu, don't you think your tone was a little snide?"
"Sorry," Arhu said, not sounding very much so. Rhiow sighed.
Arhu had gone back to reading the back page of his paper. Rhiow watched this process with amusement that she hoped was well concealed. Besides being useful, the paper had given him an excuse not to try to speak or even to look at Siffha'h for the whole early evening so far. "Hey, listen to this," he said, and began reading aloud with some difficulty: not so much because of the words themselves, as because of how odd some of them seemed in context. "If its what Mr.. Illingworth was talking about."
"What?" Rhiow said. Even Siffha'h sat up at that.
"I think it is, anyway.
" 'Maskelyne and Cook – Dark Seance. The latest novelty and most startling performance ever presented to the public … the seance includes the floating of Luminous Instruments, distribution of flowers with dew, appearance of materialized spirit forms, spirit hands, spirit arms, strange and apparently unearthly voices, music extraordinary, the inexplicable Coat Feat, all accomplished by Messrs. Maskelyne and Cook while bound hand and foot, the ropes secured with knots executed by the most perfect adepts in the art of rope-tying, elected by the audience.' "
He paused and looked up. "But that doesn't sound like such a big deal."
"It does if you're an ehhif and not a wizard," Urruah said. "We have ehhif like that at home: they do shows where they pretend to be wizards. Without the ethical element, anyway. It's 'magic' rather than wizardry: mostly they pretend to do things that would normally kill them, and make things disappear."
Fhrio muttered something under his breath. Rhiow, having occasionally shared what she suspected was Fhrio's sentiment, had to put her whiskers forward just a little. " 'In addition to the great sensation the Dark Seance and exposes of so-called spiritualism,' " Arhu said, " 'the following leading features amuse the audience at the present program: Mr.. Maskelyne's extraordinary comical illusions, extraordinary Chinese plate-spinning, lady floating in air, the animated walking-stick, the Tell Tale Hat, etc. The original and inexplicable Corded Box Feat is performed at every representation. Every afternoon at three, every evening at eight.' "
Arhu looked up again. " 'Spiritualism?' "
Rhiow shook her head and started to tilt her head sideways to listen to what the Whisperer might have to say: but Siffha'h said suddenly, "It's where ehhif used to think that their dead still stayed around to speak to them after they were gone. The live ehhif would try to get advice from their dead ones, and ask them what was going to happen in the world … things like that."
"But it doesn't work that way for ehhif, surely," Auhlae said, sounding dubious. "When they go, they're gone, aren't they?"
A pang went through Rhiow. She stared at the floor for a moment while trying to manage it, aware of Urruah looking at her but not saying anything, just being there.
"And no matter what happens to them, I wouldn't think the advice of the dead would do the living much good in any case," Auhlae said. "Surely that must have occurred to even ehhif. Their priorities would be very much different … "
"Nonetheless, some of them wouldn't care," Rhiow said. "Some of them miss each other very much, and they don't have the kind of knowledge we have, it would seem, about what happens to them afterwards. All they have are a lot of different stories that mostly disagree with one another." She swallowed. "It makes them feel very afraid, and very alone … "
Auhlae was looking at her. "I'm sorry," she said. "My apologies, Rhiow. I hadn't realized … "
"It's all right," Rhiow said, though how long this statement would stay true, she wasn't sure: she tried to keep a grip on herself. "She's somewhere safe, my ehhif: though I haven't any idea of what she does there, how she is or what she knows … probably any more than she would normally have had of what awaited me after any given life. Maybe it's a privacy thing that the Powers preserve between species. Our paths cross, we live together, we part … is it really our business where ehhif go? Or theirs, what happens to us?"
Auhlae said nothing, merely looked at Rhiow with eyes thoughtful and a little sad. Rhiow sat still for a moment and did her best to master herself, while the back of her mind shouted Yes it is, yes! She held very still and concentrated on her breathing, and on not looking like an idiot in front of the others.
"Well," Huff said after a moment, "we still have a fair number of problems to deal with."
"You're not kidding," Urruah said. "I'm still trying to work out what in the worlds 'The Tell Tale Hat' might be."
"Besides that," said Huff. "Mr. Illingworth, who has been to see Maskelyne and Cook, is one of them. You said you didn't find any trace of him in that universe."
"No," Urruah said, "and I'm at a loss to know why. The most likely possibility that occurs to me is that that wasn't the universe we were heading for, but a close congener."
"An alternate alternate universe?" Siffha'h said.
"You might as well call it that," Urruah said. "When you start messing with timelines, altering them, whole sheaves of new universes are created from each branching point – some of them very likely, some of them less likely, some of them hardly there at all. The more likely they are, the more likely you are to come across them. Think of them as 'waves' in a wave tank which is chiefly populated by the two universes which are trying to achieve equilibrium. You get troughs and crests of probability and possibility as the two universes attempt to absorb one another's energy – and matter, though that's a more problematic process. The sheaves of alternates don't persist for long. As one universe or the other starts winning the argument, the other's 'alternates' vanish. Then, last of all, the universe that spawned them vanishes too: dissolves into the other one, all its energy absorbed. I think Illingworth came from the sheaf of 'possibles' surrounding the main one."
"So you're going to have to alter your timeslide's settings to find the 'core universe', the one which engendered all these others," Fhrio said.
"Yes," Urruah said, "and as yet, I don't know how they're going to have to be altered, or how to construct a spell to tell it how to manage the alteration. Also, I don't understand why the 'settings' I saved from Illingworth's gating didn't lead us straight back to his home universe. Add that to your list of problems … "
"You seem to know more about timeslide theory than the rest of us," Huff said to Urruah. "Do you have any sense of how much time we might have to work in, at this end of things, before that other reality starts to supersede ours?"
"Maybe as long as a month … but I wouldn't care to bet on it," Urruah said. "My guess would be more like days … at least, I think it'd be safest to play it that way."
"But, but it's just dumb!' Siffha'h burst out. "The Powers wouldn't just let an entire reality be wiped out! They'd send some kind of help!"
"They did," Rhiow said. "They sent us."
Siffha'h opened her mouth and shut it again. "But if we can't do anything about it, They'll help: They have to – "
"Do they?" Huff said. "Where does it say that in the Whispering? Listen hard."
She did … and her mouth dropped open one more time.
"You need to understand it," Rhiow said. "We are all the help there is. The seven of us are, apparently, the best answer which the Powers that Be can offer up to this particular problem. If we fail, we fail, and our timeline fails with us. It would be nice to assume that if something goes wrong, one of the Powers will drop down out of the depths of reality to pull us up out of trouble by the tail. But such things don't normally happen: the Powers have too little power to waste. There is nothing particularly special about our timeline, except to us, because we live in it: it has no particular primacy among the millions or billions of others. For all we know, other timelines have been wiped out because of such attacks, and because their native wizards couldn't act correctly to save them. Myself, I wouldn't much care to ask the Whisperer about that at the moment: the answer might depress me. Let's just assume we must do the job ourselves, and get it right. Huff … ?"
He thumped his tail once or twice on the floor in disturbed agreement. "There's nothing I can add to that."
For a few moments everyone looked in every possible direction but at each other, unnerved. Then Arhu sat upright and stared toward the front room of the pub. "Oh, no, here he comes – "
Rhiow looked around to see what he was talking about: but no one but their own two groups was anywhere near them. "What?" she said.
"I see him a few minutes ago," Arhu said, sounding slightly put out. "I was hoping he might change his mind, or the seeing might turn out to be inaccurate … but no such luck. Get sidled – "
They all did but Huff, who looked curiously at Arhu, then turned his head, distracted. A young ehhif was heading over toward the fruit machines. He was one of a type which seemed common in that part of the City, a suit-and-tie sort with a loud voice and his tie thrown over his shoulder. As he came, he was suddenly distracted by the presence on the floor of a sheet of paper … The Times. He bent down to pick it up.
"Oh, for Iau's sake," Arhu growled, and put one invisible paw down on the paper. Rhiow watched with interest as the ehhif failed to get the paper to come up off the floor: tried to pick it up again, and failed, and failed again. He got really frustrated about it, trying to get even just a fingernail under one of the newspaper's corners and peel it up, and failed at that as well, managing only to break a couple of nails. The ehhif straightened up again and walked off swearing softly to himself.
"Nice one," Auhlae said. "How'd you do that?"
"Made it heavy for a moment, that's all," Arhu said. "It was part of a tree once, after all. I just suggested that it was actually the whole tree." He put his whiskers forward. "Paper fantasizes pretty well."
"You'd better make it invisible as well," Huff said mildly: "he'll be back here with my ehhif in a moment. I know what that kind gets like when they're confused, or balked."
Arhu shrugged his tail. A moment later, when Huff's tall dark-haired ehhif came back, there was no paper there, or seemed to be none, and only Huff, lying at his ease and finishing his wash. Huff's ehhif took one look at the floor, and saw nothing there but his cat lying there and looking at him with big innocent green eyes. Huff blinked, then threw his rear right leg over his shoulder and began to wash. His ehhif raised his eyebrows, and headed back to the bar.
Huff finished the second bit of washing, which had been purely for effect, and glanced over at Arhu. "Does that happen to you often?" Huff said.
"You mean, seeing? Once a day or so … sometimes more. I wish it was always about important things," Arhu said, looking rather annoyed, "but usually it's not. Or I can't tell if they're important, anyway, till they happen. The trouble is, they all feel important … until it turns out they're not."
"How very appropriate," Siffha'h murmured, and looked away.
Arhu gave her a look that had precious little lovesickness about it: it smelled more of claws in someone's ears. He opened his mouth, probably to emit something unforgivable, and Rhiow, concerned, opened her mouth to interrupt him: but at the same moment, Huff said, "Arhu, have you thought of going to see the Ravens?"
"Who?"
The Ravens over at the Tower. They have a problem rather similar to yours."
"Are they wizards?" Rhiow said, curious.
"No," Huff said, "but they have abilities of their own which are related to wizardry, though I'd be lying if I said I understood the details. They are visionaries of a kind … though I wouldn't know if they describe the talent to themselves in precisely those terms. In any case, the few times I've talked to them, they've sounded very like Arhu. Rather confused about their tenses." He put his whiskers forward to show he didn't mean the remark to be insulting. "They might be of use to you … or to us, possibly, with this problem."
Arhu looked thoughtful. "OK," he said. "It can't hurt."
"No, I would think not. Now, Urruah will be working on resetting his timeslide, recalibrating it – "
"It'll take me a day or so," Urruah said. "I want to explore as many of the possibilities as I can, as many of the universes in the 'sheaf', when we do our next run."
"And meanwhile there are a couple of other things we're going to need to find out," Rhiow said. "First, if there's any way to manage it at all, we must find the original contaminating event or events. If it happened using your gates, the logs may give us some hints … if we can ever get them to yield that data, which Urruah hasn't yet been able to do. If we can't find evidence from the gates, then we're going to have to go back to that alternate time again, much as I dislike the prospect, and search for information there. The other thing we must discover is the nature of this attack on the ehhif– Queen, Victoria – " Rhiow went out of her way to try to get her pronunciation as close to the ehhif word as she could – "and also discover whether this great change in the past-world we saw would have happened anyway, or has something specific to do with her death or life."
"It very well could," Auhlae said. "She was a tremendous power in her time, though she had very little direct power – compared to some of the pride-leaders who went before her, anyway. Certainly they would have gone to war had she been assassinated, and if they were able to prove that some other pride they knew of had been involved. There was fierce rivalry between them for a long time: the shadows of it remain, though most of the ehhif powers in Europe are supposed to be working together now … "
"Huff," Rhiow said, "how much do you know about ehhif history of that time? The eighteen seventies, say?"
"Very little," he said. "It's hardly my speciality: like most of us, if I need to know something I go to the Whispering." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "But you know," he said, "there are People for whom it is a speciality. And they don't live far from here. In fact, there's one in particular who's famous for it. He used to live at Whitehall, but now he's out in the suburbs. You should go to see him. I'll show you the coordinates, and you can lay them into one of the other gates."
"That sounds like a good idea," Rhiow said. "Would he be available today, do you think?"
"More than likely. Probably your best bet is simply to go out there and meet with him."
"All right. What's his name?"
"Humphrey."
Rhiow blinked. "That's not a Person's name … " "It is now," Huff said, amused. "Wait till you meet him."
"Meanwhile, I think the rest of us will be minding the other gates," Fhrio said, "and watching to see if they start betraying any sign of instability. If they start acting up, we'll know we have less time to deal with our troubles than we thought."
Rhiow nodded. "And as for the rest of it," she said, "we'll meet again when it's dark, and see who's best sharpened their claws on the problem before us."
The others agreed, then got up and shook themselves, preparatory to heading off in their various directions.
"Now look at this," Arhu said, crouched down again, and oblivious. " 'Princess Christiana of Schleswig-Holstein visited His Majesty and remained to lunch – ' "
Urruah looked up. "Does it say what they had?" he said, coming to gaze at the paper over Arhu's shoulder.
Rhiow glanced over at Huff and wandered over to him. "You look tired," she said. "Are you all right?"
"Oh, I'm well enough," he said. "Rhiow, we're all too old for this! Except for them – " and he indicated Arhu, and off on the other side of the room, already heading for the back door, Siffha'h. "But no matter … we'll cope." He sighed, looked at her, as Auhlae came wandering over and laid her tail gently over his back. "It's just hard, sometimes, discovering that after a long period of steady and not terribly dangerous work, your reward for getting it right is that you get to save the universe … " His look was dry.
"It's always dangerous to demonstrate talent," Auhlae said. "Least of all to Them. But that's our job: we accepted it when it was offered us … and what can we do now?"
"Do it the best we can," Rhiow said. "There's nothing else." She rubbed cheeks with Huff, when he offered, and did the same, a little more tentatively, with Auhlae. The two of them headed off toward the front of the pub: and Rhiow made her way out toward the back, and the cat-door, thinking thoughts of quiet desperation … but determined not to give in to them.
Half an hour or so later, Rhiow was padding down a street in one of the northern suburbs of London, looking for a specific house in one small street. She had a description of the house, and a name for a Person: or rather, that peculiar ehhif nickname which Huff had given her. According to the Knowledge, the nickname (bizarrely) came from an ehhif television show, and was a reference to an astute but extremely twisty-minded politician. Rhiow was uncertain whether any Person, no matter how jovial, would really want to be called by such a name.
She found the house, at last. It was actually bumped sideways into another house, in a configuration which the ehhif here called "semidetached." There was a narrow wall of decorative concrete blocks about four feet high separating the two houses' front yards and driveways. Rhiow jumped up onto this and made her way back to where it met another wall, taller, one which divided the houses' two back gardens from one another. This was actually less a wall than a series of screens of interwoven wood, fastened end to end. Rhiow jumped up onto the nearest of them and paced along it and the subsequent screens carefully, looking down on the left-hand side, as she had been instructed.
The right-hand garden was less a garden than a tangle of weeds and rosebushes run amuck. The left-hand one, though, had a lawn with stepping-stones in it, and carefully trimmed shrubs, and small trees making a shady place down at the far end. There was a birdbath standing in the shade, but no bird was fool enough to use it: for lying near the birdbath, upside down in the sun, was a black-and– white Person with long fluffy fur.
Rhiow paused there for a moment looking at him as he dozed, wondering how to proceed. From a tree nearby, a small bird appeared, perched on a nearby branch, and began yelling, "Cat! Cat! Cat!' at Rhiow.
She rolled her eyes. One of the great annoyances associated with becoming a wizard was, oddly, identical with one of its great joys: learning enough of the Speech to readily understand the creatures around her. It was very hard to eat, with a clean conscience, anything you could talk to and get an intelligible answer back. "In your case, though," she said to the small bird, "I'm willing to make an exception … "
Except that she wasn't, really. Rhiow sighed and turned her attention away from the bird, to find that the black-and-white Person's eyes had opened, at least partially, and he was looking at her, upside down.
"Hunt's luck to you!' she said. "I'm on errantry, and I greet you."
He looked at her curiously, and rolled over so that he was right side up again. "You're a long way from home, by your accent," he said. "Come on down, make yourself comfortable."
Rhiow jumped down form the wall and walked over to the respectable– looking Person, breathed breaths with him, and then said, "Please forgive me: I don't know quite what to call you … "
"Which means you know the nickname," he said, and put his whiskers forward. "Go ahead and use it: everyone else does, at this point, and there's no real point in me trying to avoid it."
"Hhuhm'hri, then. I'm Rhiow."
"Hunt's luck to you, Rhiow, and welcome to London. What brings you all this way?"
She sat down and explained, trying to keep the explanation brief and non-technical. But Hhuhm'hri was nodding a long time before she finished, and Rhiow realized that this was one of the more acute People she had met in a while, with a quick and deep grasp of issues for all his slightly ditzy, wide-eyed looks.
"Well, that's certainly a different sort of problem," Hhuhm'hri said. "At first I'd thought perhaps you were one of the People who's just been added to the standing committee on rat control."
Rhiow restrained herself from laughing. "No, the problem's a little different from that … "
"Certainly a little more interesting. I must say I wouldn't want our timeline to be wiped out, either, so I'm at your disposal. Though I must admit that the temptation to alter just one piece here or there, with an eye to improving things, must be very strong … " "By and large it doesn't work," Rhiow said. "There are conservation laws for history as well as for energy. Remove one pivotal event without due consideration, and another is likely to slip in to take its place – often one that's worse than the one you were trying to prevent."
"Conservation of history … " Hhuhm'hri mused for a moment. "That's the only odd thing about this, to me: if such a principle exists, why isn't it protecting you in this case?"
"Because of the nature of the Power which has intervened to cause the change," Rhiow said. "Mostly time heals itself over without a scar if the change is small, or made by a mortal. But when the Powers that Be become directly involved … and in this case, one of the oldest and greatest of them – the fabric of time is entirely too amenable to Their will. It's unavoidable: They built time, after all … "
Hhuhm'hri blinked. "Yes," he said. And then he added, "You'll forgive me a second's skepticism, I hope. One doesn't often expect to run into one of Them, or Their direct deeds, in the normal course of the business day."
"Of course," Rhiow said, at the same time thinking that, from the wizard's point of view, that was all anyone ever ran into: but this was not the moment for abstract philosophy.
"Sa'Rrahh, eh," Hhuhm'hri said after a moment. "So the bad-tempered old queen's at it again. Well, I'll help you any way I can: we'll play the Old Tom to her Great Serpent, and put a knife or two into her coils before we're done. I may not be walking the corridors of power any more, but all my contacts are still live … in fact, I have rather more of them since I came out to the green leafy confines of suburbia."
Rhiow cocked her head. "I'd heard something about your retirement," she said, "from the Knowledge: but even the ehhif in New York noticed it. A lot of talk about you being thrown out of Downing Street – and then maybe murdered – "
Hhuhm'hri put his whiskers right forward and sprawled out, blinking at Rhiow like a politician after a three-mouse lunch followed by unlimited cream: and he smiled like someone who could say a lot more on the subject than he was willing to. "It wasn't that bad," he said. "At least, as far as political scandals go … "
Though a lot of ehhif had thought it was. The new Prime Minister's wife, a suspected ailurophobe, had dropped a few remarks on moving into Number Ten which indicated that she thought cats were, of all things, "unsanitary". The remarks had provoked so massive an outbreak of ehhif public concern for "Humphrey" that an official statement from the government had been required to put matters right – making it plain that Humphrey's normal "beat" was the Cabinet Office and Number Eleven, and his position was not threatened. Shortly after that had come the photo opportunity. Rhiow had been looking over Iaehh's shoulder at the television one night and had chanced to catch some of those images: the lady in question looking conciliatory, but also rather as if she very much wished she was elsewhere, or holding something besides a cat: while "Humphrey" gazed out at the cameras, as big-eyed in the storm of strobe-flashes as a kitten seeing a ball of yarn for the first time. "Glad it wasn't me," Rhiow said. "I wouldn't have known what to do in a situation like that."
"You hold still and pray you won't walk into anything when she finally puts you down," Hhuhm'hri said, amused. "Sweet Queen above
us, ten minutes straight of flash photography … ! I was half-blind at the end of it. But other than that, I did what I had to. I shed on her." He put his whiskers forward in a good-natured way. "What else could I do? What kind of PR advice was she getting, to take a photo call with a black and white cat in a black suit? Did they expect me to stop shedding in one color? She should have worn a print, or tweed … Well, she was only new to the job. She's learned better since. While I stayed there, I steered clear of the children, by and large, which is mostly what she was worried about. No point in tormenting the poor woman. Then my kidneys began to kick up, and I thought, why should I hang about and distract these poor ehhif? They've got enough problems, and my replacement's trained. So I took early retirement –­and there was a press scandal about that too, unavoidable I suppose – but I was happy enough to let "Harold" move in at Number Ten, and go off to get the kidneys sorted out and settle into domestic life. I still have more than enough to do."
"Not just the rats, in other words."
"Oh, dear me, no. As I said, now that I'm quartered out here, People who might otherwise attract notice if they came to see me in Downing Street don't feel shy about it any more. No more cameramen hanging about all hours of the day and night … " He yawned. "Sorry, I was up late this morning. Tell me what kind of help you need from me, specifically."
"Advice on personalities," Rhiow said. "I need to know what People can best help us in that time, in the eighteen seventies … ideally, in the target year itself, where their intervention will do most good. We think it's eighteen seventy-five. The possible error, my colleague thinks, is a couple of years on either side."
"Eighteen seventy-five," Hhuhm'hri said. "Or between eighteen seventy-three and eighteen seventy-six. Not a quiet time … "
He mostly-closed his eyes, thinking, and for a few minutes he lay there in the warm dappled shade and said nothing. Rhiow waited, while above a growing chorus of small birds scolded at them, and her mouth began to water slightly at the thought of foreign food, whether she could talk to it or not.
"Well," Hhuhm'hri said suddenly, as Rhiow was beginning to concentrate on one small bird in particular, a greenish-yellow creature with banded dark wings and a bright blue cap which was hanging temptingly close on a branch of a dwarf willow. There are certainly a fair number of resources: though the Old Cats' Network was really only getting started, then. One in particular should be of best use to you, though. 'Wilberforce' told me about something that had come down to him from 'George', or maybe it was 'Tiddles', the one who owned Nelson … something concerning the British Museum's cat at that point. 'Black Jack', the ehhif called him. An outstanding character: he worked at the Museum for something like twenty years, and what he didn't know about the place, or about things going on in the Capital in general, wasn't worth knowing. He passed everything he knew down to his replacement, 'young Jack' – and it's through that youngster that a lot of information about that time comes down to us. Either one of them would be the one you'd want to talk to: but I can give you a fair amount of the information which has come down from them, so that you'll start to get a sense of what questions you need to ask. How much background do you need?"
"All you can give me."
"Is your memory that good?" Hhuhm'hri said, looking thoughtful.
"It can be when it has to be," Rhiow said. "I can emplace everything you say to me in the Whispering, as I hear it. I won't be much good for conversation while you're at it, but it'll be accessible to me and the rest of my team afterwards, and any other wizards who need the information."
"That's very convenient."
"It is," Rhiow said, though privately she thought that what would not be convenient was the headache she would have afterwards. "If you'll give me a moment to set up the spell, we can get started."
It was nearly five hours later that she made her way out of Hhuhm'hri's back garden: the sun was going down, and even the dimming sunset light made Rhiow's eyes hurt. Her whole head was clanging inside as if someone was banging a cat-food can with a spoon. And I'm ravenous, too, she thought, heading back to the vacant lot into which she had originally gated. Parts or no parts, if I go straight home after this, I'm eating whatever Iaehh gives me.
It had been worth it, though. Her brains felt so crammed full of ehhif political and non-political history of the 1870s that she could barely think: and after a sleep, she would be able to access it through the Knowledge, as if taking counsel with the Whisperer, and sort it for the specific threads and personalities they needed. It helped, too, that Hhuhm'hri's point of view was such a lucid one, carefully kept clear of uninformed opinion or personal agendas. It had apparently been an article of honor for the long line of Downing Street cats to make sure that the information they passed down the line was reliable and as free from bias as it could be, while still having an essentially feline point of view. They counted themselves as chroniclers, both of public information and of the words spoken in silence behind the closed doors of power, in Downing Street and elsewhere: and they suffered the amused way that ehhif treated them, put up with the cute names and the often condescending attention, for the sake of making sure someone knew the truth about what was going on, and preserved it. Not that there hadn't been affection involved, as well: Hhuhm'hri had been quite close to the Prime Minister before the present one, and Churchill's affection for the People he lived with had been famous – Rhiow could not get rid of the image of the great ehhif sitting up in bed with a brandy and a cigar, dictating his memoirs and pausing occasionally to growl, "Isn't that right, Cat Darling?" to the redoubtable orange-striped "Cat', veteran of the Blitz, who had worked so hard to keep his ehhif's emotions stable through that terrible time.
They were an unusual group, the Downing Street cats: genuine civil servants, and talented ones. Over the many, many years they had been in residence, they had learned to understand clearly ehhif speech of various kinds – the first "cabinet' cats, dating back to the pride– ruler Henry VI, had been ehhif-bilingual in English and French – and they were assiduous about training their replacements to make sure the talent wasn't lost in this most special of the branches of the Civil Service. Not quite wizards, Rhiow thought: though there may be wizardly blood in their line somewhere, or occasional infusions of it from outside –for not all the Downing Street group were related. They were a rrai'theh, a working pride without blood affinities, part of the much larger pride which referred to itself as "the Old Cats' Network". Rhiow wondered if, as in other non-wizardly cats, another talent to "spill over" from wizardly stock had been the one for passing through closed doors unnoticed. She suspected it had: in their line of work, such an ability would have been invaluable.
She made her way down to the Tower Hill Underground station with her head still buzzing with Hhuhm'hri's briefing. It was unnerving, the way thinking about ehhif affairs for four or five hours straight could make you start looking at the world the way they did. Rhiow wasn't sure she liked it. Oh well … an occupational hazard. But the one word which seemed to have come up most frequently in Hhuhm'hri's reminiscences was "war". Try as she might, Rhiow could not understand why ehhif could kill each other in such large numbers for what seemed to her completely useless purposes. Fighting for land to live on, for a territory that would provide food to eat, that she could understand. All People who ran in prides, from the microfelids to the great cats of this world, did the same. But they usually didn't kill each other: a fight that resulted in the other pride running away was more than sufficient. If they tried to come back, you just drove them away again.
Ehhif, though, seemed not to find this kind of fighting sufficient. What troubled Rhiow most severely was tales of ehhif killing one another in large numbers for the sake of land that was nearly worthless – going to war simply because they had said that a given piece of land was theirs, and some other ehhif had disputed the claim. Or when they went to war for the sake of prestige or injured pride: that was strangest to her of all. And it seemed to her, from what Hhuhm'hri had told her, that the pride-of-prides, which its ehhif called Britain, had gone to war for all these reasons, and for numerous other ones, over the past couple of centuries. Granted, they had done so genuinely to preserve their own people from being killed as well: the second of the great conflicts of this century had been one of that kind, and the British had defended themselves with courage and cleverness at least equal to their enemies'. Nevertheless, Rhiow was beginning to think she knew who most likely would have blown up atomic weapons on the Moon in 1875, if they'd had access to them.
And how did they get them? And how can we undo it?
It was going to take time to work that out. At least they had a little time to work with … but not much.
She made her way among the ehhif at the Underground ticket machines and past them, under the gates and down to the platform where the malfunctioning gate and its power source were being held. Hhuhm'hri had told Rhiow that thousands of ehhif had hidden in tunnels and basements near here during the bombings of London in that second great war. That had resolved, for Rhiow, the question of something she had been feeling since she came down here first – a faint buzzing in the walls, as if at the edge of hearing: the ghost-memory in the tunnels and the stones of ehhif not just passing through here, but staying, and sleeping near here in the faintly electric-lit darkness. Their troubled and frightened dreams still saturated the bricks and mortar and tile of the tunnels – and "behind" them, if you were sensitive to such things and you listened very hard, you could just catch the faintest sound of the shudder and rumble of falling bombs. That un-sound, intruding at the very edge of a sensitive's consciousness, could easily get lost in or confused with the rumble of present-day trains through the stone.
At least I know what it is now, Rhiow thought, making her way to the platform, and jumping up. A relief. I thought I was going a little strange …
Only Urruah and Arhu were there just now. "Luck," Rhiow said, going over to breathe breaths with Urruah, who was sitting and looking at his timeslide-spell, apparently taking a break after having doing an
afternoon's worth of troubleshooting. The timeslide was presently lying quiescent on the platform floor, in a tangle of barely-seen lines. "How's it going?"
"Slow," he said. "I wanted to have another look at the disconnected gate's logs before I started changing my own settings around."
"Find anything useful?" Rhiow said, glancing over at Arhu. He was tucked down in "meatloaf" configuration with his eyes half-closed, unmoving.
"No," Urruah said, following her glance and looking thoughtful. "But, Rhi, I think the logs are being tampered with."
She sat down, surprised. "By whom?"
"Or what," Urruah said. "I can't say. Normally when a gate's offline, its logs are 'frozen' in the state they were in when the gate was taken off. I hooked the gate up again briefly to the catenary to have a look at the way the source has been feeding it power – and found that some of the logs weren't the way I remembered them. In particular, the logs pertaining to Mr. Illingworth's access were in a different state than they were when I left them. Specifically, temporal coordinates were not the same."
Rhiow looked around her and then said privately, Fhrio?
I don't think so. For one of us to tamper with a gate's logs would normally leave "marks" that an expert can see … alterations in the relationships between the hyperstrings of the gate. Now, I'm an expert … and I can't find any "marks".
The Lone Power … Rhiow thought.
Urruah hissed softly. Rhi, I know It's been meddling in the larger sense. The contamination of the 1875-or-thereabouts timeline is certainly Its doing. But by and large It's not going to do something like this. It's still one of the Powers that Be, and has Their tendency not to waste effort Itself when It can get someone closer to the problem to do the dirty work.
She had to agree with him there. "So what are you going to do?"
He shrugged his tail. "Try the altered coordinates," he said. "Or at least lay them into my timeslide and see what happens when we try to access them."
"It could very well be a trap of some kind … " Rhiow said.
"Yes, but we don't have to put our foot right into it," Urruah said. "We can look before we jump. A habit of mine."
Rhiow put her whiskers forward. "All right. Anything else?"
"Well, one other possibility," Urruah said. "I think our problem in finding Mr. Illingworth's home universe, or not finding it, may have to do with the timeslide still being powered out of the malfunctioning gate's power source. We noted from what few logs were left from the "microtransits" earlier that the far end of the gate– timeslide was lashing around in backtime, like the end of some ehhif's garden hose when they let it go with the water running at full pressure. The end whiplashes around, coming down first here, then there … never the same place twice. I think the fault for that could possibly lie in the power source rather than the gate."
Rhiow blinked at that. "I can't see how. The power source isn't supposed to have any coordinate information in it, or anything like that … "
"I'm not sure how either," Urruah said, "but what else am I supposed to think at this point? The gate itself wasn't connected to the power source, but we still had a failure in my timeslide, although it was a small one. Big enough, though, in terms of what we were trying to do." He sighed. "I think the next time we try this, we should keep the timeslide off the gate's power source and power it ourselves."
"That's going to be hard on you," Rhiow said.
"Yeah, well, I don't see that we have the option," Urruah said.
"Excuse me," someone said pointedly from behind them.
They both looked over their shoulders. Siffha'h was sitting there behind them.
"I couldn't help overhearing," she said. "But you do have a power source. What about me?"
Urruah blinked. "Uh. I hadn't — "
" – thought about it? Or maybe you just don't trust me, because I'm young yet." Her tone was very annoyed.
"Siffha'h," Rhiow said, "give us the benefit of the doubt, please.
We're very aware that our being here at all imposes on your team
somewhat. We're unwilling to impose further when there's any way that ii
"Look," Siffha'h said, "our whole reality is going to be rubbed out if we can't stop what's happening, and you're telling me you don't want to impose? Come on."
Rhiow glanced at Urruah, rueful but still somewhat amused. "Well," she said, "you've got a point there. Ruah?"
He looked at her with his tail twitching slowly. "You are unquestionably hot stuff," he said, "and any time you want to power a timeslide of mine, you're welcome."
"You build it," Siffha'h said, "and I'll see that it takes you where you want to go. When'll you be ready?"
"Tomorrow afternoon, I think."
"Good. I'll be here."
She strolled off, tail in the air. Rhiow glanced over at Urruah. She really does remind me of Arhu sometimes.
Yeah, Urruah said. In the tact department as well.
Rhiow put her whiskers forward. You know how it is when you're young, she said. Life seems short, and all the other lives a long way away … You want to be doing things.
So do I, Urruah said. Preferably things that'll solve this problem. He looked rather glumly at the spell diagram for the timeslide.
"All right," Rhiow said. "Anything else that needs to be handled?"
"He said he wanted you to see what he saw," Urruah said, glancing over at Arhu, who was still crouched down in meditative mode. "I'm going to look at it later: right now this is more of a priority."
"Right … "
Rhiow went softly over to Arhu: then, as he didn't react, she sat down by him and began to wash – not only because she didn't want to interrupt him in whatever he was doing, but because she felt she badly needed it. She was tired, and needed to do something to keep herself from falling asleep. Rhiow had just finished her face and was starting on one ear when she felt something thumping against her tail. It was Arhu's tail: he had come out of his study and had rolled over on his side to look up at her.
"You wash more than anybody I know," he said. "Are you nervous or something?"
She looked at him, then laughed. "Nervous? I'm terrified. If you had a flea's brain's worth of sense, you would be too."
"I'm scared enough for all of us," he said. "Especially after what I saw today."
"You went to see the ravens," Rhiow said. "How was it?"
"Weird." He put his ears back. "I'm not sure I understood most of it … but I put it all in the Whispering, the way you showed me."
"Good," Rhiow said. "I'll have a listen, then." She crouched down, tucking her paws under her in the position which Arhu had been using: comfortable enough to let go of the world around and concentrate on the inner one, not so comfortable that she would fall asleep. Well, she said silently to the Whisperer, what has he got for me?
This …
Normally the voice you heard whispering was Hers, the familiar, steady, quiet persona, ageless, deathless and serene. But material the source of which was a mortal being would come to you strongly flavored with the taste of its originator's mind. Knowing Arhu as well as Rhiow did, this was a taste with which she was also familiar. But now, as the point of view changed to early afternoon on the riverbank, suddenly Rhiow found herself immersed in the full-strength version of it – a quick, excitable, excited turn of mind, by turns cheerful and annoyed at a moment's notice, interested in everything and with a taste for mischief … though also with a very serious side that would come out without warning. Rhiow actually had to gasp for a moment to catch her breath as she bounded, with Arhu, down the walkway that led to the main gateway to the Tower: past the ehhif who were lined up at the gate, letting the security guards there check their bags and parcels: through the gateway, looking up at the old, old stones of the arch, and through into a cobbled "street" which Arhu's memory identified as "Water Lane".
This little street ran parallel to the river inside the main outer wall. To the left, as Arhu went, was another wall studded down its length with several broad circular towers: this ran on for about an eighth of a mile, to where the outer wall came to a corner and bent leftwards. The stones in the left-hand wall were mostly rounded, as if they had come out of a river, but some had been cut down roughly into squarish shape, and they looked and smelled ancient. From them,
as Rhiow had from the bricks and stones of the Underground, Arhu caught a faint sense of much contact with ehhif, but the flavor was strange, a compendium of old, faded triumph, and equally old abject fear. Arhu paused for a moment, feeling it on his fur, feeling it especially strongly from the right side where he passed a latticework gateway of metal that let out onto an archway leading down to the river. Traitor's Gate, the Whispering said in his mind: and just briefly, as he did then, Rhiow saw, in a flicker, the way Arhu saw with the Eye.
A flicker, there and gone. Ehhif standing up, ehhif lying down and being brought up to the gate in boats, ehhif dying and in fear of dying coming in, ehhif dead going out: queen-ehhif and tom-ehhif, proud, dejected, defiant, afraid, bitter, reluctant, confident, desperate: plots and schemes, offended innocence, furious determination, all rolled together in a moment of vision, all spread out over long years of history, circumstance, and confusion; the conflicting needs and desires, the long-planned machinations of the powerful and the requirements of the moment, terror-horror– resignation-life-death-brightness-sickness-cold-blood-release– darkness –