The 'resonance' is an allegory. Your creators wanted to increase the lifetime of a metastable bound state."

Kamoj frowned. "And Jax?"

"He probably descends from the owners. The free state. It's unlikely they all managed to leave here when the Ruby Empire collapsed."

Knowing she might have been bred by Jax's ancestors to work herself to exhaustion was enough to make Kamoj that much more determined to sleep.

Then it occurred to her that Vyrl had invoked more of their ownership customs than Jax ever did.

He stiffened. "I don't own you."

"Our laws say you do." Kamoj hesitated. "If a man's corporation is larger than the woman can match, she becomes his property. It isn't only marriages. We couldn't match your rent, so we had to give you the palace."

"A corporation isn't a dowry."

"Then what is it?"

"The word derives from cla.s.sical Iotic." Vyrl paused. "It means a group that, as a body, has the powers, privileges, and liabilities of an individual.

Corporations can buy, sell, and inherit property."

"As you bought me."

He flushed. "I would never consider you my property."

She spoke with care. "It is almost unheard of for a man to offer a governor a dowry she can't match. With such a merger, his authority extends to her entire province. It is the only way, besides inheriting the t.i.tle, that a person can become governor. That you were already a leader makes it unprecedented as far as I know."

He shook his head. "You're the leader of Argali. I'll help if I can, but you're the one qualified for the job."

Taking a breath, she forged ahead. "Would you sign a contract to verify that arrangement?"

"Of course."

A wave of relief spread over her. She wondered if he had any idea what his answer meant to her. Jax's refusal to sign such a contract was another reason she had delayed the Argali-Ironbridge merger. "I will have a judge prepare the doc.u.ments."

"All right." He hesitated. "I'll be down at the Ridge."

"You mean the palace tri-grain fields?"

"Yes." Shifting his weight, he added, "I told Jak Tager I would talk to him."

Kamoj remembered the name. Dazza had spoken of Tager during their ride in the giant metal bird. "Is he a doctor?"

"Psychiatrist. A healer of emotions." Vyrl's shoulders tensed under his work shirt. "It can't hurt just to show him a few crop variations I'm working on. I don't have to talk to him again if I don't want to."

"I'm glad, Vyrl." She felt a curious sense of release, as if his words had lifted a weight from her. She let her eyes close.

"Kamoj?"

She opened her eyes half-way. "Yes?"

"This morning I went riding with my bodyguards. We saw some people practicing folk dances in the village."

She yawned. "Probably rehearsing for the harvest festival."

"Some were men."

Her eyes closed again. "Men do the Reel of the Greengla.s.s Stags. They stamp their boots a lot in that one. In the Sun Lizard's March they spin torches in the air. And they do partner dances with the women . . ."

She was almost asleep when Vyrl said, "Then it is accepted for men to dance here?"

With a sigh, she tried to wake up. "Of course. Why?"

"I just wondered." Leaning over, he kissed her. "Sleep well, water sprite."

As Vyrl's footsteps receded across the room, she drifted into the downy embrace of sleep.

A smell of burning scales woke Kamoj. The early morning sunlight had a dirty cast to it. When she widened her nostrils, she almost gagged on the stench of ashes. She slid out of bed and ran to the south-facing window.

To her left, the East Sky Mountains towered in forest-carpeted peaks. Before her, the Lower Sky Mountains spread out in fields and then fell away in wooded hills to the distant flat lands, where villages dotted the aqua-blue plains and rivers criss-crossed the land in silver threads. To the west, the Argali Mountains descended in great wrinkles until, out of sight, they reached the village of Argali.

The mountains roared in flames.

Forest fires blazed in the Argali and Lower Sky Mountains. Billows of smoke rose from peak after rolling peak, and tongues of dragon's breath threatened the flat lands. If the outlying hamlets of Argali weren't already burning, they would be soonand then Argali itself.

The floor under her feet vibrated. A giant bird of gold and black metal roared over the tower, shaking the building with its pa.s.sage. It arrowed south, where other birds soared over the fires, their metal plumage aglitter in the sunlight.

One released a purple cloud that billowed across the flames. The burning orange tongues cowered, beaten back, then flared anew, relentless in their advance.

"Sweet Saints," Kamoj muttered. Why had no one woken her up? She had to get out there to help. She had no doubt Vyrl's first reaction had also been to join the firelines. Was he out there now, or had the Ascendant ordered his return to its fortress above the sky, forcing him to safety against his will?

Kamoj ran into her chamber, to the rose cabinet where she stored her clothes.

As she paused to open it, she saw herself in the mirror, a young woman with a wild mane of black curls that poured down to her hips. She wore only a translucent underdress, her nipples outlined against the pink silk. Rubies and gold glittered at her neck, wrists, and ankles. Collar and cuffs? Was that the origin of these family heirlooms? She gritted her teeth, knowing she would never see her wedding jewels the same way again.

Metal clinked on stone in the master bedroom.

"Vyrl?" Kamoj went back to the bedroom, to see if he had news. The suite, however, was still empty. She checked the landing outside, leaving the foyer doors open, but found no one there either.

Inside the suite, she heard metal sc.r.a.pe stone again.

Puzzled, Kamoj went back into the bedroom. Still she saw no one. She walked to the window And froze.

An iron tri-hook gripped the sill like a huge dragon's claw, piercing the shimmer curtain. Even as Kamoj watched, a hand came over the sill and slapped onto the wood. Then a woman pulled herself up into view, a husky archer dressed in Ironbridge colors. She hauled herself up onto the sill in one smooth motion.

Kamoj wasted no time on questions: she spun around and ran. As she raced out onto the landing, she heard boots thud on the floor in the suite. She ran down the tower stairs, her bare feet slapping the steps. Why hadn't Morlin warned her of the intruder? Was he still "down," whatever that meant?

At the bottom of the stairs, the door to the Long Hall was jammed open by the body of an elderly butler who had probably been coming to warn her about the fires. When she saw the gash in his head, she dropped to his side.

Mercifully, he still breathed, unconscious but alive.

The sounds of pursuit grew louder above her, boots pounding on stone in the stairwell. Kamoj scrambled over the butler and ran down the Long Hall. She couldn't outfight or outrun the archer, who had both height and body ma.s.s over her, but she knew these mountains far better than Jax's people. As soon as she made it outside, she would easily lose her pursuer in the forest.

Bodies lay in the hall up ahead, two maize-girls, bound and gagged. For a instant Kamoj feared they were dead. Then she realized no point existed in binding or gagging dead people.

Far up the corridor, near the maize-girls, an Ironbridge stagman stepped out from a doorway.

"Hai!" Kamoj skidded to a stop. Whirling around, she saw the archer striding toward her from the other direction, the woman's long legs covering ground fast. Kamoj ran straight at her, trying to reach the nearest doorway before the archer reached her. She made it and ran into a sitting room filled with gold and white furniture. Bronzed sunlight poured through its floor-to-ceiling windows, the promise of escape. She raced toward them Someone grabbed her around the waist. As Kamoj yelled, the archer swung her around, lifting her feet off the floor. Half-carrying, half-dragging Kamoj, the woman strode back into the Long Hall, where the stagman met them.

When Kamoj tried to shout for help, the stagman shoved a sponge in her mouth and tied a gag around her head, while the archer held her arms pinned. Then her captors each grabbed one of her upper arms and took off, forcing her to run between them or be dragged.

In seconds they were outside, racing across the courtyard. A cart waited for them, hitched to four bluegla.s.s bi-hoxen, bulky six-legged mammoths with sparks of sunlight flashing off their scales. The stagman climbed onto the driver's seat, a plank of wood set across the front of the cart. Kamoj caught only a glimpse of his actions, being otherwise occupied in her struggles with the archer. The woman hefted Kamoj up and threw her into the back of the cart, between two rolls of carpet, by a coil of rope. As she vaulted in after Kamoj, the cart jolted into motion. Kamoj tried to scramble out of it, but the archer shoved her back down on her back.

The stagman looked around, the reins of the bi-hoxen gripped in his hands.

"Tera, keep her still."

Tera, apparently the archer, just grunted as she and Kamoj wrestled. Kamoj raked her fingernails across Tera's arm, drawing blood. Then the archer flipped her onto her stomach and yanked her arms behind her back. Kneeling on Kamoj's legs, she bound her prisoner's wrists together with the rope.

The bi-hoxen plodded on, oblivious to the struggle, pulling the cart up into the North Sky Mountains.

Ancient trees towered over the path, clogged with moss and Argali vines.

Black-scaled thornbats hissed among the foliage, searching for puffs to skewer with their needled beaks. Their high-pitched cries echoed in the h.o.a.ry forest. Except for the rare Argali rose or puff lizard, the trees hunkered in dark hues, their scaled iridescence subdued by the weather. A misty drizzle was falling, mixed with fog that glinted from the scale dust suspended in it.

The cart rolled on, jolting up the narrow path, crushing vines and roses under its wheels. Tera sat next to Kamoj, as she had throughout the ride, silent, watching her captive. Bound and gagged, Kamoj had shivered at the start of the trip, until Tera wrapped a carpet around her shoulders.

Kamoj glanced at the boda-bag on Tera's belt. She had neither eaten nor had anything to drink since yesterday.

For a while Tera watched Kamoj watching the boda-bag. Then the archer spoke, her Ironbridge dialect so strong Kamoj could barely understand her. It sounded like, "Be you still o'piece, move I yer quieter?"

Kamoj nodded, hoping she had guessed the correct meaning of the question: will you be quiet if I take off the gag?

Tera removed the gag, then pulled the sponge out of Kamoj's mouth. The archer took the boda-bag off her belt and unscrewed the top. Tilting its narrowed end to Kamoj's lips, she squeezed the bag, making wine squirt into Kamoj's mouth. As much as Kamoj disliked the harsh mead brewed in Ironbridge, she disliked her searing thirst even more. She sucked the bag dry.

When Tera lowered the bag, Kamoj said, "Will you untie me?"

The driver answered, what sounded like, "Maybe a'can," to which Tera responded, "Lector, we cannee risk her a'run." Kamoj wasn't sure if Lector was an oath or the driver's name; either way, it came from a contraction of Electromotive Force. Legends painted Lector as a great hero who converted humans into energy. Why converting people into energy was heroic, Kamoj had no clue, but the name was popular in Ironbridge.

"I won't try to run," Kamoj said. She almost meant it; she had no idea where they were now, besides which, she would be even colder wandering in the woods than sitting here under a carpet. Even so, she was willing to try an escape.

She didn't fool Tera, though. The archer made no move to untie her. "Out there you be peat for Argali vines," she said.

"Look," Lector said. "That wild greengla.s.s again. I'd spend a Long Year to catch that beaut."

Kamoj looked, and saw a huge stag keeping pace with them, half-hidden in the trees. She doubted Lector would have success with this greengla.s.s.

Greypoint would never allow anyone but Vyrl to ride him. And it was Greypoint following them, she was certain. But why? The Current only knew what the animal had thought yesterday when a giant metal bird took away Vyrl. Had Greypoint been pacing the woods since then, undecided whether or not to return the Quartz Palace?

Tera was watching her. "The animal follows you." She grinned, showing teeth browned from chewing cabarque leaves. "We caught us a forest nymph guarded by the king of stags, heh?" Her smile faded. "Or else we caught us a witch."

"Donnee talk of Argali that way," Lector said.

Tera answered something about, "vile business" and "Lionstar," to which Lector nodded in agreement.

Their words were an unwelcome reminder to Kamoj of Vyrl's dismal reputation. No one had trusted him before and now he had trampled their customs. All in the Northern Lands would have the same thought: if a stranger could overthrow Argali and humiliate even Ironbridge, no one was safe. Jax must have marshalled that fear to augment his army, bringing in archers like Tera who usually served on a highborn woman's bodyguard. He would have left enough archers and stagmen to protect Ironbridge and taken the rest with him. While Vyrl rode on Ironbridge, Jax was somewhere up here, high in the mountains, sealing his plans for Argali.

As the bi-hoxen plodded onward, Kamoj brooded. Would the Ascendant help Vyrl find her? Could they find her? She had no concept of what the Ascendant could do, no referent to understand either it or its people. Besides, either Lector or Tera would go back and hide their tracks. Probably Tera. She had a venerable name, one that originally derived from the Volterra line in Argali, though the Volterra penchant for travel had long ago spread it across the Northern Lands. Volterras had a knack for solving problems that involved a preferred direction. They made good trackers.

Groggy from hunger and drunk from mead, Kamoj fell into a daze, watching the trees go by. The cart finally rolled into a high mountain clearing.

Saturated in mist, a camp lay before them, black tents with purple ta.s.sels hanging from their roofs. Stagmen moved about the clearing, cutting wood, mending clothes, cleaning weapons, tending campfires. They all wore boots and fur-lined clothes, protection against the sleet that drizzled from the overcast sky.

When Tera tugged the carpet off Kamoj, a blast of freezing air cut through Kamoj's underdress to her skin. Then Tera pulled her out of the cart. As Kamoj's bare feet hit the iced ground, she gasped and jerked. With her hands tied behind her back, she lost her balance and fell against the cart.

Lector came over to her. He lifted Kamoj up, settled her in his arms, and then set off into the camp, carrying her with one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. She gritted her teeth against the stares of the encamped army. Her rose-hued dress was the only bright color in the camp, and she knew glimsilk glowed on overcast days. It was like a beacon drawing attention to her loss of status. Jax had stripped her of authority in both a literal and figurative sense.

Lector stopped at a large violet pavilion with black ta.s.sels hanging from its fringed roof. When he nodded to the two stagmen posted outside its entrance, the taller man inclined his head and went inside the tent. Kamoj was shivering uncontrollably now, her dress frozen in the sleeting rain.

The flap lifted, releasing a puff of warm air. The stagman looked out at them.

"He meets with an advisor now. He be calling you when they finish."

Kamoj stared at him. Did Jax mean to freeze her?

"Sweet saints, man," Lector said. "She cannee survive this cold."

Another stagman inside lifted the flap, releasing more warm air. "You may come now," he said.

As Lector carried Kamoj into the tent, warmth closed around her. She closed her eyes, hating herself for the grat.i.tude she felt. Did Jax plan these things, or did he just have an inborn instinct for controlling people?

Silk panels hung on the walls, violet, silver, and black for Ironbridge. Rugs covered on the ground and a bed made up with purple velvet stood in one corner. On the floor, braziers with iron grates gave out heat that rippled in waves, distorting the air above the scrolled grills.

"Over there," a man said. That voice Kamoj knew. Jax. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him sitting with a judge at a table across the tent. He returned to his meeting without acknowledging her.

Lector set her on a pile of furred blankets near a brazier. As he covered her with the furs, she craned her neck to look at Jax again. Unexpectedly, he was watching her. When he realized she had caught him doing it, he turned away, focusing on his advisor, who was struggling to decipher a map.

Heat from the brazier warmed Kamoj, melting the ice on her clothes. She began to feel again: rivulets of water ran down her neck from her hair, Lector's jacket scratched the skin of her arms, and waterproofed fur rubbed her thighs. Closing her eyes, she soaked in the warmth. She knew she was pa.s.sing out but she didn't care. Exhausted, she let darkness carry her into oblivion.

IX.

IRON ROSE.