She sipped some more of the sweet liquid down and turned away from the view to look at Sventhan. The stout man looked back at her over his mashed nose. “The Kuh’taenium said you needed help.”

“How is it that you can hear it?” Reih shifted in her seat to question the man.

“Nevermind that lady, what do you want?”

“I don’t know, I never thought about it. The Kuh’taenium said you could help. It didn’t say why.”

Sverthan sighed and unstoppered a pitch black jug. He topped up the drink she held out. The liquid held in the jug for a second, then with a gloop some fell out into the cup. It didn’t splash. “Then why did you come here?”

“It told me to. How can you help?”

“I can help in many ways lady. I am a builder. I know the Kuh’taenium as you do. It speaks to our blood. It is time to call on our support. There is a war coming, and like it or not you are in the middle.”

“I am a councillor. No warrior. I don’t know who I can trust. I only know the threat is real.”

“Then I will do what I can for you. Who’s the lump?“

“My guard, Perr.”

Sverthan stared at him, utterly still. Then, a knife flashed. It flew from under his counter straight at the armoured man’s helm. Perr didn’t flinch but let the blade bounce against the metal, blunting the tip.

Perr, mildly annoyed, looked across to Reih.

“It’s alright.” She said to Perr and turned to Sverthan. “Now really. You shouldn’t upset him. “

“He didn’t even catch it! He’s useless. You are in danger and the man can’t even catch a knife! You should leave now, while you can. How well do you think the Kuh’taenium would fare without you!?”

Perr sighed behind Reih.

“How well do you think it would fare without me. Dead or fleeing, it would make little difference. I’ll not do either gladly. If I leave the Kuh’taenium will surely fall.”

“It will never be unprotected. It has its own defences — after all, we built it.”

“Don’t talk nonsense, man. It’s thousands of years old.”

“Yes it is, councellor, and you would do well to remember that. Let me say the people I represent have a vested interest in it. So just remember, you might think you have her best interests at heart, but if you take one wrong turn we’ll not sit idly and watch her die.”

“Her?”

“Yes, her. I’m sure there are many things that you would not believe, lady, but I haven’t the time or the patience to go into it. You believe her. That is all you need for now. Now, listen to me carefully. The building is the focus of our power, and she must not fall. The builders are on your side now. We are no army. That is up to you. We can protect you, but the time has come to fight. We must destroy the threat if the people are to survive.”

“And bring war?”

“You have no choice. Raise the armies. The rahkens nation already rails against our oppressors. They know our people of old. You will be surprised,” said Sventhan. “The land longs to fight. It cannot bear the weight of the Protectorate much longer…but it is the Hierarchy that are the true enemy, and their fathers, who soon return from the stars.”

“It is no longer possible to remain idle, for to do so will mean the end of this land and every other. You think the land harsh now. The fathers of the Hierarchy will tear each mortal to pieces and feast on their pain, bathe in their blood. You cannot say you are afraid. You do not even know what it means. But if you fail, you will. You will know suffering and terror until your death, and the death of the people you are supposed to be shepherding through this age.”

Reih listened, and if she thought the builder overstepped the mark she did not say so. She listened with a growing sense of dread. Not because he was a great orator, like some she had known, or an accomplished troubadour, deftly spinning a yarn. She listened because in some dark part of her heart, she knew it was the terrible truth…and her twin knew this also.

“How will I raise an army? I can contact the rahkens, but mankind has no warriors. They would be crushed before they could think…and what of magic? Even could I begin to raise an army to oppose them, their mages would roast them alive on any battlefield.”

Sventhan nodded sagely. “At last, you are thinking. There are two nexus points on this land, that wait for this age. One is Sybremreyen, and ancient temple far to the south. The other, as you well know, is your twin, the Kuh’taenium. Together, they can hold back the tide of the Protectorate’s magic…whether they can stand against the darkness of the Hierarchy I could not say. But they hold more power than you could imagine. Send your forces south to Sybremreyen. They will be safe there, until the time comes…”

Sventhan spoke for a while longer, and Reih listened. She knew the time had come. She could no longer return to her old life. She would become a prisoner within the Kuh’taenium, separated from whatever force she could find — builders, thieves, caravan guards…any man or woman who could wield a blade. She would direct, and they would follow. Her life, and theirs, were solely her responsibility. If only someone else could take this mantle…but the Kuh’taenium had chosen her to be its avatar in these final days. The return was near, so Sventhan said. While he did not paint a vivid picture, it was somehow more frightening because of the simplicity of his words, the gruffness of his voice.

Hers would be a secret war, he would be her general, and she was more afraid now than she had ever been before.

Reih left the drink unfinished. Sventhan spoke before she could rise.

“In a month’s time, we wake her powers. I will be ready by then. You must live. Do nothing foolish.”

She nodded, and rose to leave. Perr turned first and followed his mistress back to the Kuh’taenium and the sunny side of the city.

Reih walked on, Perr behind her. She walked straight, deep in thought. The steel clad warrior walking two paces behind her was enough to leave her unmolested as she walked through the east gates and passed the guard into the town where it was once deemed safe.

Safety was something she would have to hold in her heart from now on, for she was under no illusions. War was coming to Lianthre, for the first time in a thousand years.

“Just like old times,” joked Roth from behind Tirielle, bringing up the rear. It was a tight fit for the beast, but it never complained.

She supposed it had endured worse.

For long minutes they had crawled on their hands and knees through thick slime and, almost definitely, ordure. Tirielle tried not to think about it, but try as she might the thought snuck up on her, emboldened by the stench.

“It reminds me of old times, too, Roth, but I wish it didn’t. I’m trying my hardest to think of the good times, back when I was merely a dissident, a captive on my way to certain death. Thinking about it now, at least we had no choice then. It seems worse than folly to endure this because we want to.”

“Would you up and go home then?”

Tirielle thought about it, but it was difficult to think of anything with the reek making her head swim.

“No, I decided long ago to make my own fate, and I choose this path as much as it chooses me.” She shivered in the cold gloom. “But I wish, if I still have the luxury of wishes, that at the end of this tunnel waits a hot bath and a cool drink.”

Roth grunted its agreement, and fell silent. Tirielle concentrated on crawling, telling herself that it was no different to playing mudsnakes when she had been a child. Her nose, however, was firmly rooted in reality.

She crawled for what seemed like an age, knees and elbows growing sorer with each passing yard. The gloom gradually gave way to darkness, then a blackness as pitch as the cities of the Naum. Tirielle felt the primal fear that lurks at the back of every mind, the fear of the unknown, sneaking in the night, stalking the black places of the world waiting to plunge a thief’s dagger deep into a kidney, a timber wolf snarling as the campfire’s embers glow their last, a slithering across a bare foot in a desert cave.