'I know the creed of your kind. You are the swords. You sate yourselves in flesh and move on. You will not sate yourselves in the flesh of any slave from this eyrie. There are women here who were bred and taught for no purpose but to moan beneath fat uncaring men. They are not wh.o.r.es to be had as the fancy takes you. There are no slaves any more, and I will make a cage for any who act otherwise. You will see to this.

Tuuran slowly got back to his feet. Erect, he towered over her, a full foot taller. A strange play of emotion flickered though him. Hope and pa.s.sion and . . . was that adoration? No, not that. Pride. An Adamantine Mans pride in his speaker and in himself.

'Take what joy you can, Night Watchman. Zafirs words sounded bleak and cold. 'It wont last long. Joy never does. Now find the witch Chay-Liang. The night-skins will come back for us soon enough. She walked off and Tuuran watched her go, wondering how to become what shed asked. Crazy Mad did it by stabbing people with his warlocks knife and disintegrating anything that annoyed him. This had its merits, he supposed, chief being that it scared the living s.h.i.t out of everyone who saw it. Her Holiness got things done by burning people with her dragon if they didnt do what she said, the old-fashioned dragon-rider way of doing things, tried and tested. His old oar-master had been very fond of his whip. All struck him as the same thing: obey or be hurt. Which was fine until some p.i.s.sed-off slave whacked you on the head in the middle of the night and tipped you into the sea.

Well, he didnt have a dragon and he couldnt disintegrate people who looked at him wrong, and he didnt fancy an unexpected night-time plunge off the edge of the eyrie, so none of those. He watched the slaves and the soldiers. They did what they were told because Crazy had quietly gone round and stabbed them with his crazy knife before hed freed the dragon and not left them with a choice, but that was just making slaves in a different way and her Holiness had said not to do it.

He collared a couple of Crazys tame soldiers and told them to find the enchantress Chay-Liang. 'Tell her whats happened. Tell her she wont be hurt as long as she behaves. Tell her Tuuran said so. He didnt have much doubt shed remember him.

He watched the men go and sighed. Letting the hatchlings rampage was all very well and theyd done a fine job of shredding the last Taiytakei soldiers whod wanted to fight, but it seemed more like luck than anything that they hadnt slaughtered absolutely everybody; and now that her Holiness was done burning everything that moved and Crazy was done disintegrating everything that didnt, the eyrie needed slaves to make it work, to cook and fetch and carry and shovel s.h.i.t and build things and wash things and herd things and all sorts, and generally those slaves needed to be alive.

Generally. Of course, Crazy had once managed to find a place where that wasnt so, and there were whispers of others too, but best not to think about that.

Since everything in the dragon yard seemed to be getting on well enough, Tuuran climbed to the wall and looked out over the distant desert and the maelstrom of the storm-dark. The wind in his face made him think of being at sea. He missed that. Hed had enough of the desert, thanks. Never enough to drink and when there was water it was tepid and stale, and sand in everything except when it was ants or scorpions. No, hed definitely had enough of the desert. He glanced at the two of them, Crazy and then the dragon-queen: a starving shackled wretch hed saved from the bilges and a princess hed found pinned against a wall by a drunkard. Gave him a strange feeling. Odd, like they were his children, and that was just daft, wasnt it?

There was a sliver of etched gla.s.s in his boot. The Watcher had given it to him, a pa.s.s to pa.s.sage among the Taiytakei to take him anywhere he asked. He pulled it out and was about to throw it away, as far and hard as he could, then stopped. Zafir wanted to go home. But as far as Tuuran knew, Crazy couldnt cross the storm-dark. He tucked it away again and set his mind to getting the eyrie in order. You never know, eh?

The dull thuds of the lightning cannon had stopped. A handful of slaves ran past Liangs workshop, and then the eyrie fell into uncertain silence. After a while, when no one came, she limped to the door and looked up and down the pa.s.sage.

Empty. She thought about heading up to the eyrie to find out what was going on and then imagined another hatchling lurking and went back for a second lightning wand instead. And maybe a sled. And maybe she could take several gold-gla.s.s spheres and make a shield around the sled, and then she wouldnt have to walk any more. And rockets. She could put the bombs on the ends of rockets. They wouldnt go very far but it would be better than throwing them. And she could sit inside the shield and stick wands out the front and rockets on the side and make a sort of sled for fighting dragons.

When she was done making her armoured sled, it crossed her mind that two lightning wands were all very well, but ten would be better; and it took a while, making all that, and she was still working when she heard new voices outside and another pair of soldiers came to her door. Not the soldiers shed seen before, but at least they didnt look like they were running for their lives this time. Even if they were both Vespinese. Shed given up hating the Vespinese it was just too much effort.

'Enchantress!

'Did the Elemental Men kill it? Whats happened to the dragon? Is it dead?

The soldiers looked confused as if they didnt understand what she meant. 'Lady, you have to come to the dragon yard now. Night Watchman Tuuran gives his a.s.surance youll be safe. The soldier sounded calm, almost asleep, as though hed been chewing Xizic since dawn. No sign of the terror and the panic shed seen in the others.

'Tuuran? Liang shook her head, puzzled. 'Where are the Elemental Men?

'Gone, lady. The soldier offered a hand. 'Some were killed, others fled. Calm as anything, as though it hardly mattered. Liang had to lean on a bench. This was too much. Her voice broke to a whisper.

'The dragon?

'The dragon serves the Black Moon. As do we all. They came towards her, arms reaching to take hold of her. As soon as they touched her, she reached her mind into the gold-gla.s.s armour they wore and froze it solid. She wrenched herself free. One of them toppled over. The other simply stood, stiff as a stone, an expression of bewilderment on his face. Liang shook her head.

'Now theres a lesson for you, she muttered, wincing at the pain in her leg. 'I could make that armour of yours squeeze until your ribs burst, but why not tell me without all that messiness, eh? What in the name of Xibaiya and the unholy Rava are you talking about?

They told her that a silver sorcerer of the moon had come, one of the half-G.o.ds to whom the smiths of Scythia quietly prayed when they thought that no one was looking. Bellis half-G.o.d, who might once, if you believed in the rumoured words of the forbidden Rava, have ruled everything and everywhere. It couldnt be true but that was what the soldiers believed. The worst was how it didnt seem to bother them.

When they were done, Liang dragged the two of them in their frozen armour into the far corner of her workshop and hobbled away to hide.

Tuuran headed into the tunnels with a few of the soldiers Crazy had stabbed with his knife. He found slaves barricaded in their dormitories to keep the dragons out and told them hed keep them safe; and they came out because some of them remembered him and what a pain in the a.r.s.e hed been. The night-skins he found now and then generally threw lightning at him, but there were a few who remembered him from back when hed been the alchemists bodyguard, who did at least say h.e.l.lo before they tried to kill him. He herded the survivors up to the dragon yard and Crazy Mad quietly stabbed Taiytakei and slave alike and handed them back over to Tuuran, heart, mind and soul; and it was like his old galley Crazy and her Holiness the galley masters, and him with a band of frightened slaves left to make sure that stuff got done.

'Thats your dragon-queen, is it, big man? asked Crazy. Tuuran nodded. 'This eyrie. Its hers now. Make it work.

Out over the storm the gla.s.ships were coming. Her Holiness was shouting something, pitting her lungs against the wind. Tuuran listened for a bit, thinking she didnt sound much like a speaker of the nine realms and that old Vishmir the Magnificent or Narammed the Great would have given a much finer battle speech. He climbed the walls and looked around the rim at the cannon. Right then.

Liang limped across the ice-cold morgue of what had once been Baros Tsen TVarrs bathhouse into the spiralling pa.s.sages where the slaves lived. The tunnels were quiet and empty, the rooms deserted. She stepped around scorched bodies and pieces of men, some so mangled as to be unidentifiable. A few rooms here and there had been gutted by fire but most were simply empty. She went to where the kitchen slaves slept, found a stained white tunic and rubbed some of their cheap perfume over her skin to make herself, as best she could, seem just another slave. She returned the way shed come and started looking for Belli. He wasnt in his laboratory so she tried his study and found him sitting on the end of his bed, his head in his hands, rocking gently back and forth. For a moment he didnt recognise her. Then his eyes sharpened and he jumped to his feet. 'Li! Youre hurt!

'I killed a dragon, she said and then giggled a little shrilly at how ridiculous that sounded. And yet it was true. 'It was only one of the little ones, she added sheepishly.

Belli might not even have heard for all she could tell. Just like the last time. He was on his hands and knees already, looking at her leg. Shed wrapped a piece of cloth around it to try and stop herself spattering blood all over the floor of her workshop, and it was saturated. A trickle of red dribbled along her calf and dripped from her ankle. Belli shook his head and tutted. 'You never look after yourself, Li. He tried to untie the knotted cloth and merely ended up with her blood all over his fingers. He went to get a knife.

'Why didnt you kill it? she asked.

'Kill what?

'The dragon. Was it because of her?

'Zafir? He shook his head as he cut the bandage. 'I would have argued for her life with my own, but the dragon? The Elemental Men told me it must be done and they were right. It was the slave who said I should not. He looked up at her and there were tears in his eyes. 'The Silver King, Li. The Silver King! How could I not obey? He returns. Or so I thought . . . He looked down again and shook his head. 'And then Zafir tried to kill him, and, Flame help me, I think she was right! Somehow she had a knife from an Elemental Man. She tried to kill the Silver King. The Silver King, Li! With a killers blade but it turned to ash in her hand. He was trembling. 'Only this is not the Silver King I thought to serve. He shook his head and shuddered. 'He set them free, Li. He woke the dragons with a snap of his fingers and set them free.

Belli was trembling. He cut himself with the knife and smeared his own blood over the wound in Liangs leg and Liang squealed at the sting of it. After that he bandaged her up again and then dabbed and fussed at the cut on her face until she sat him down, held his head in her lap and made him tell her exactly what had happened, over and over until she understood.

'I dont know what to do, he whispered when he was done.

'We must each pick a side, she answered softly.

'I will pick whatever side has you, Li.

'I will fight them, Belli.

'I cannot defy this Silver King to his face, Li, not for anything. He shook his head. 'I cannot. He is . . .

She kissed him on the temple. 'Then keep me safe and I will fight them for both of us.

For a long time they sat together and she stroked his thinning hair and rocked him back and forth until he began to doze, and it was only when she heard brisk footsteps coming towards the door that she let him go and quickly hid under the bed.

The Taiytakei Crazy stabbed with his warlocks knife did what Tuuran told them because Crazy had said they had to, but Crazy hadnt told them they had to pretend to like it. The slaves were a bit of this and a bit of that. Some put on armour of gla.s.s-and-gold with an eager glee, others slunk away. Tuuran let those ones go and sent them back down into the eyrie to carry on pulling out bodies and setting the place to rights. The ones who had the will to fight he set to work learning how to use the black-powder cannon. The eyrie shook every time they fired, and even over the wind the noise made him jump. From the corners of his eyes he watched the dragons. The hatchlings circled the eyrie. The big one stayed sat on the wall, still as a sentinel.

The bodies in the yard were almost gone, the dead sorted and stripped, the corpses thrown over the side. He hadnt had much of a chance to look at them and he wasnt sure he wanted to. Hed had a lover when hed been here before. Yena. Didnt much like the thought of finding her again, charred and hacked into bits. Theyd parted badly, but still . . . Maybe she wasnt even here. Maybe she was dead. Maybe she was cowering in a room deep under the dragon yard, terrified of what hed do when he found her, terrified because shed been too afraid to run away with him.

Which reminded him . . . He called up a pair of soldiers from the yard. 'The white witch. Where is she? Yena had been a slave to the enchantress, and it struck him now that he hadnt seen her even though hed sent men to find her. Hadnt seen Grand Master Bellepheros for a while either.

The soldier shrugged.

'Best you and I go and have a look then.

Bellepheros woke as Li shifted under him and scrambled under the bed out of sight. The footsteps stopped outside his door. He straightened himself but no one burst in. Instead there was a polite firm knock. His knees creaked as he stood up. Every part of him carried a weight today, a heaviness. Failure. His purpose, above all other things, had always been to keep the dragons dull and stupid. To fulfil the legacy of the Silver King. And now the Silver King himself had come in the guise of a man and undone everything hed ever stood for. All of it gone at a stroke.

He opened the door. Tuuran grinned and opened his arms as though offering an embrace to an old friend, as though nothing had changed and hed left only yesterday and the whole ugly business with the slave woman had never happened. But it had, and most of a year had pa.s.sed and everything was different. Bellepheros stepped back out of reach.

'What do you want?

'Grand Master Alchemist! Tuuran was still grinning as he stepped in.

'Dont pretend were friends, Tuuran. Not any more. You brought him here. I saw you with him. The monster.

Tuurans face turned solemn. 'The Isul Aieha, Grand Master Alchemist.

'No. Bellepheros shook his head. Couldnt be. Couldnt accept that. 'Youve brought a monster that will end us all.

'Ive brought freedom, Grand Master. Freedom for you. For me. For us!

'I dont want freedom, you stupid man! I want us to be safe! All of us! Safe from the fire that comes from the sky! Safe from tooth and claw and tail! Dont you see what youve done? But he didnt. The look on Tuurans face showed that. No shame, no guilt, no fear, just hurt and anger.

'Grand Master Alchemist, the eyrie and its people have been handed over to her Holiness Zafir, speaker of the nine realms and- 'No, no, no! Bellepheros turned away and raked his hands across his scalp. If hed had more hair then he might have pulled it out. 'Great Flame! And now what? Has she declared war against the entire Taiytakei race yet? How many must burn before it ends?

Tuurans face hardened. 'I do not know, Master Alchemist, but what she has done so far is to command me as her Night Watchman to prepare this place for the defence that must come.

'You? Night Watchman now? Bellepheros laughed at the twist of it. 'Well as you must very well know, grand master alchemists and Night Watchmen have a long tradition of antipathy, and I see it set to continue. Go. Leave. I do not want you here. I serve my order and the realms, not you or your speaker.

Tuuran shook his head. 'You serve the memory of the Isul Aieha. And he is returned.

'Its not him! Bellepheros screwed up his face and clutched his head again. But he couldnt refuse. Not if the demon came at him in person.

The scowl on Tuurans face was so dark now that Bellepheros thought the big man might pick him up and carry him away but at last Tuuran bowed his head.

'I came here to ask you as a friend, he said. 'As a man who was taken against his will by these Taiytakei as I was, for your help to keep our new freedom. The Isul Aieha will take us home, where we belong. I know this. I knew this man before you and I ever met. I ask, as a friend, that you help us to survive. Where is the white witch, Master Alchemist?

Bellepheros shook his head. 'You have woken dragons. I stand opposed. Go, Night Watchman. Youll have no help from me.

Tuurans face tightened. He sighed and nodded. 'Ill do what I can to keep you safe. Ive not forgotten how we sailed from the dragon-lands together, slaves both, nor how you spoke to me of the land we left behind and taught me our stories and legends.

Bellepheros turned his back. He didnt move or speak until Tuuran was gone. After the door closed, he waited a while longer, then quietly crept to it and opened it. No one was listening outside.

'Patience, Belli, whispered Li from where she hid. 'The killers will come. And when they do, I beg you to hide.

Under the sound of the roaring wind and cannons firing, Zafir hauled Sea Lord Lord Shonda from his cage and the Crowntaker stabbed him in the back with his shimmering knife. When there wasnt any blood, Zafir frowned. The Crowntakers eyes had silver in them again.

'This Taiytakei will be mine, he said. 'He will do everything we ask. He can help us, no?

Zafir looked at the other Taiytakei in their cages. MaiChoiro and Shrin Chrias. 'A kwen would- They come. Diamond Eye, in her head, a warning the others didnt have, and she was already sprinting before she wondered why the dragon had bothered to tell her. He was in the air, throwing himself from the wall towards her, wings stretched out. She understood at once. Killers. The only safe place was beside him.

The first Elemental Man appeared behind the Crowntaker. Shonda let out a startled cry. The killer vanished and Shondas head rolled off his shoulders in a fountain of blood. Diamond Eye smashed into the dragon yard and slid across the stone. Zafir threw herself forward and rolled. In the dragons thoughts she saw the killer rushing like the wind towards her. The dragon read his mind and showed her, and she saw where the killer would be and how his knife would cut her head from her shoulders and the exact moment he would be flesh and bone again. She ducked and jinked, timing perfect. Diamond Eye roared inside her. The killer vanished and appeared ahead of her, and again she saw it unfold a moment before. She twisted away from the blade but it cut through her shoulder, through her armour and sliced open her skin. She struck back at the air where the killer had been standing an instant too late. When he came at her a third time, Zafir threw her knife the moment before he became solid. His outstretched edge sliced a thin shallow cut in her side as she dived away. The Elemental Man looked down at himself, at the hilt of Zafirs blade sticking from his chest. He mouthed a word as he fell.

How?

Diamond Eye flattened his head to the stone as she reached him, inviting her onto his back.

Why? she asked.

55.

The Secrets of the Queverra Tsen was beginning to think the tunnel under the desert went on for ever. The sled moved slower than a gla.s.ship but it was faster than walking. His inner tvarr, who calculated things like this in his sleep, estimated two days to reach the Queverra, five if hed got it wrong and they were heading for the Konsidar. He couldnt be sure. It wasnt a terribly comforting thought because it dawned on him in a slow and roundabout way that if hed chosen wrong then hed sentenced them to die of thirst, whereas if hed set off in the right direction then they might survive. He sighed and agreed with himself that next time hed give it some more thought before he charged off down a mysterious tunnel into G.o.ds-knew-where. Yes when next there were killers hunting him, maybe he could ask them all nicely to wait a moment while he got his bearings and made sure he had plenty of food and water. Maybe a permission note from the Arbiter. A writ or a warrant or something. And perhaps some dancing boys and a few singers to relieve the boredom too, eh? A full circus why not?

'What did you say?

Talking to himself aloud again? He squeezed Kalaiyas hand. 'A while longer, my love. It will take us to a place we can rest. Nothing like a little groundless optimism to pa.s.s the time. Maybe, he supposed, if he said it enough, he could delude himself that he had an ounce of a clue where he was going. d.a.m.ned Desert of Thieves was a maze of cliffs and mesas and canyons and chasms and dead ends and old dried-up river beds that went nowhere. He wondered how quickly a sled might fly there using this tunnel. At least as fast as a galloping horse, which was about as fast as the enchanters ever made them. Cheaper and safer than flying sleds over the dunes. They could travel in chains linked together, one at the front towing twenty behind it and only one man to guide them.

He sighed. Tvarr-ish thoughts and he wasnt a tvarr any more. Wasnt much of anything, but he knew hed be stuck with thoughts like that for ever. He was a tvarr, like it or not.

The tunnel widened. Pairs of great bronze doors the height of three men pa.s.sed on either side, each carved into a relief of a giant four-armed guardian wielding scimitars in each hand. Tsen stopped the sled and spent a while looking for a way to open them, but they had no handles, no locks, no keyholes, nothing.

'Where do they go? Kalaiya asked, and he had to admit that he didnt know. He couldnt think of anywhere useful they might pa.s.s on the way to the Queverra not that might have water. Yes, he could think of all sorts of names for all sorts of places and point to them on a map but hed never actually visited them because there was nothing actually there. Nothing useful to a tvarr, anyway. Just aesthetically interesting rocks and carved cliffs and giant statues and the occasional long-abandoned ruin.

Thirst slowly drained them. The sled drifted steadily on, Tsen and Kalaiya draped across it. After the second day, Tsen could barely keep his head up. He stopped at another set of bronze doors like the first and couldnt find a way to open those either. At the third and fourth he didnt bother. By then he was drifting in and out of sleep. Maybe there were more, maybe not. The tunnel crept into his dreams. Sometimes he woke with a start and a shout with no idea whether hed been asleep a moment or an hour. He lost all sense of time and distance.

'Tsen! Tsen! Kalaiya shook him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, trying to work out if this was a dream or whether it was real. Two bronze doors barred the tunnel. They hung open and were decorated like the doors hed seen with Sivan, carved with snakes. Beyond them it was dark. Tsen slowed the sled and let it drift to a stop. His heart was suddenly beating a lot faster. He forgot he was tired and thirsty and nearly dead. The desert men had all sorts of stories about the Queverra: gateways to Xibaiya, half-living half-dead things, man-monsters, terrible sorcerers, a clan of white-faced scorpion-priests who worshipped the forbidden old G.o.ds, and that was just the start of it. If even a few of the stories were true then the depths of the Queverra were as busy as Khalishtor on a Mageday market. Nonsense, of course, all of them.

'Tsen! Kalaiya clung to his arm. She was younger than he was, faster and probably stronger and definitely more likely to get away, but he appreciated the gesture anyway. He stroked her hair. It soothed him. Maybe it soothed her too.

The sled drifted on. It carried them through the open bronze doors and into a darkness like the inside of a cave, and Tsen could smell stone. Damp stone, which meant there was water; and as the sled emerged into the bottom of the Queverra and Tsen saw the faint glimmer of daylight above and heard the rustle of a river, he rolled off the sled and fell to the sand and crawled on his hands and knees until he found it.

Water.

Freedom.

When they were both sated, Tsen started looking for a way out and something to eat, and that was where everything started to go wrong again.

Red Lin Feyn stepped out of her gondola at the edge of the desert abyss. The first surprise was the slaughter. The camps of the slavers had been torn down and abandoned. The corpses littering the sand and the stone had been dead for a good few days and the vultures had had their fill. Most of the bodies were picked to the bone. No one had come back to burn them.

The second surprise was finding two of the killers beside her. She felt them an instant before they appeared, a moment long enough to wonder whether they were here to murder her. They bowed though, and their knives stayed sheathed.

'The dragon and its rider, she asked. 'Is it done? She didnt want them here.

They didnt know. Theyd followed her from the eyrie all the way, whispering breezes around the sanctuary of her gondola. She tried ordering them to leave but they wouldnt. Shed pa.s.sed her judgement, they reminded her. She was no longer the Arbiter of the Dralamut, merely an exalted navigator, and so they would do as they pleased; and what pleased them now was to know why shed come to the Queverra and not returned home.

'Well you might as well make yourself useful, she told them, 'and find out what happened here. She walked among the bones and tatters, picking at the ruins of the camp, trying to piece the story together. When the desert men fought among themselves, they tried not to kill each other because there was no money to be made from a corpse while a healthy living man could be sold. This was something else. Hundreds of men had come through and all at once. There were no tracks except the ones that led away. Some of the corpses wore rags torn by the vultures. A few had pieces of armour. There werent any weapons. A lot of the dead had either been stripped or been naked to begin with. She found a corpse under a collapsed tent. When she gingerly pulled back the canvas, what was left of the dead mans skin was painted white.

She began to see.

Lin Feyn moulded a globe of gold-gla.s.s into a sled. She stepped on it, sat cross-legged and guided herself up and out over the Queverras abyss. 'I believe I will find the last of the missing eggs here, she told the two killers. 'And the skin-shifter who took them. That is why I am here. I do not require your help.

The killers didnt answer. After a short time she felt them go. Doubtless theyd be waiting for her at the bottom. As she sank into the depths and a twilight gloom closed around her, she looked for firelight from further below and saw nothing. She let herself fall, gently and steadily, calm and composed. The twilight turned to near-dark, split by a bar of brilliant sky miles above. Near-dark turned to night-black, gashed by faraway dazzling sunlight. As she approached the chasms bottom, Lin Feyn slowed to let her eyes accustom themselves to the deep darkness. The ledges and terraces were abandoned and lifeless. She reached with her ears and heard only the rustle of water over sand. She knew what had happened now.

She reached the bottom. As she stepped off her sled the killers reappeared. She bowed to them and they bowed back. They kept their forms as flesh here out of courtesy, for the Queverra was a place where neither the Taiytakei of the surface nor the shifters of the Konsidar exerted dominion yet both claimed it as their own. In truth, the depths of the Queverra were a forsaken place, but Lin Feyn considered the shifters had the better claim.

'The painted men have gone, they said. 'There is no one here.