Labyrinth's Heart by M. A. Carrick

Author:M. A. Carrick [CARRICK, M. A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2023-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

15

The Face of Balance

Kingfisher, Lower Bank: Pavnilun 22

Ren didn’t know what Grey had said to Alinka. But after a fascinated Arkady arrived at the temple saying he was in Kingfisher with “what’s left of Vargo,” Ren and Ryvček hurried across the river to find Alinka bandaging wounds with no expression but clear-eyed determination. Whatever anger she held toward Vargo over her husband’s death, it didn’t stand in the way of helping an injured man.

And Vargo was injured, appallingly so. His face, his hands, his feet, his ribs; the worst was the bandage over his heart, mute testimony to the damaged numinat there. Peabody hunched above it like a helpless and miserable poultice.

Ren slumped on the floor against the wall, too exhausted to stand. Laying those cards… No pattern had ever drained her this badly. In the Seven Knots labyrinth she’d merely made choices; here she’d made those choices matter. Aža’s Call had wanted to be the risk, the illusion of the Rook becoming reality, bearers losing themselves to his power. It had taken everything she had to lay down Reeds Unbroken instead, wondering all the while if that was an improvement, placing the burden on the backs of so many yet to come. As if the position of risk could ever be comforting and safe.

She would have sworn only minutes went by while she considered the options, balancing what she hoped the Rook would be against the tension of his pattern. But when she looked up from the completed wheel, Ryvček told her hours had passed.

Hours in which Grey had done the impossible. Single-handed.

He looked like he wanted to collapse next to her. She’d only imbued a pattern; he’d imbued the Rook. But he remained on his feet as he drew Ryvček aside, away from Alinka. “I know not whether it was real or imagined, but in my journey… I thought I had Quinat with me.” He’d stripped out of much of Fontimi’s costume, gloves included; his knuckles whitened as his fists curled tight. “I—I gave it up. I can’t be its holder. Not when I’m also…” Yvieny was asleep in a chair, but he left that sentence unfinished anyway.

“Assume for now it was real,” Ryvček said. “Where think you that you left it?”

Grey’s gaze was limp with gratitude. “You mean you…”

“Cannot let you take all the credit for dealing with this? Of course not.” Her light tone belied the tension in her shoulders.

“If it isn’t still in Westbridge, it’s in the Depths. In one of the burial niches.”

Where they’d found Stezze Chetoglio with Ninat. Where Gammer Lindworm had once lurked with Tricat. Ren had never liked any part of the Depths, but she was coming to loathe that bit.

Ryvček was already heading for the door. “Get your inscriptor friend ready. The other one, I mean.”

Tanaquis. “We’ll need a story to tell her,” Ren said as Ryvček left. “Unless you are all right with her knowing.”

Now Grey gave in to exhaustion, dropping into a graceless pile next to her. “He would prefer me not to.

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