"I'm sure it was arranged. This might be why Sublime hasn't given the go order."

"Maybe. But this isn't critical. And I'm busy."

"I'm sorry, sir." Consent retreated downstairs.

"What was that?" Delari asked.

Hecht sketched the news.

"A scheme to keep Sublime preoccupied sounds likely. Sit down. The lady has been made cognizant of the implications of her situation."

"You ready to cooperate, Bit?"

"Your sorcerer convinced me. It makes more sense to fear the devil at hand than the one lurking in your imagination."

"Absolutely true. Tell me about the girl."

"Erika Xan brought her. She said she was the girl's mother. She wasn't. Erika Xan had dark hair, dark eyes, and dusky skin. The child doesn't. She speaks Firaldian with very little accent. Erika Xan had a heavy Artecipean accent. She paid me well to hide the girl. She never came back to reclaim her."

Hecht looked for Principate Delari's opinion.

"She's telling the truth she believes."

"Artecipea again."

"Yes."

"Bit, why hear this Erika Xan's appeal in the first place?" Her scowl told him that was a question she had hoped she would not be asked.

"She was my cousin. On my mother's side. At one time she was in the life, too, but she found a sponsor. She was scared to death when she came to me. She was mixed up in something really wicked. She wouldn't talk about it."

"And she was Artecipean. Meaning you're Artecipean."

"Yes."

"I missed. I thought you sounded Creveldian."

Principate Delari asked, "Where is your cousin today, madam?"

"I don't know. I assume that what scared her caught up with her."

"And she told you nothing about the girl?"

"No."

"Piper, I believe her. She didn't want to tell the truth and only sidled up to it, but she told it in the end. Madam, what is the child's real name?"

"I don't know."

Hecht asked, "Where did she come up with Vali Dumaine?"

"She never used that around me."

Delari said, "Yes, Piper. Ever more threads lead to Artecipea."

Hecht asked, "Bit, did your cousin mention where she'd come from? Or where she'd gotten the money she paid you?"

"She came from the island. I expect she stole the money."

"And she told you nothing about what was going on?"

With strained patience, "She was running. She didn't have time."

Principate Delari stopped Hecht's interrogation. "Wait, Piper."

He waited. The old man meditated more than a minute, then said, "Other lives, other ways of thinking, Piper. You can understand that."

Hecht nodded. A brothel was foreign territory. How could he understand how things were done there? "Who else did Ghort bring back?"

"Mostly hostages from the Three Families, but some relatives of this woman as well."

"I want a girl Vali's age. This one's granddaughter. I don't remember the name."

"I think we have that one."

The old woman showed no reaction. A hard life had schooled her well. She said, "Interrogating the mistress of a sporting house is a waste of time, Captain-General. The essence of the profession is discretion. Clients expect you to fail to pay attention."

Delari responded, "That, madam, is first cousin to your earlier fabrications. Every whore or whoremaster who ever was looked for ways to squeeze their marks. You may not be able to provide the answers the Captain-General wants. But you will be honest when you answer him. Or this will be a long visit for you."

Hecht had the old woman returned to Ghort. "We have to explore this Artecipean connection. It just keeps coming up."

"Knowing my grandfather, that's already well under way."

"He's out there, you know. Sniffing around like a wolf scouting a sheep cote. Which reminds me. Mutton would be a nice change."

"Are you ready to question the Society assassin?"

"It never ends."

"If you'd stayed a spear carrier you'd be somewhere loafing right now, hoping your petty officer won't find you and make you dig a latrine or cut firewood."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you made your choices. You said yes every time someone handed you more work. Oh!" Delari went white. He slammed both hands to his chest. For an instant Hecht thought it was his heart. Then -

The earth slammed up, fell down, shimmied like a belly dancer's bottom. There had been tiny, barely perceptible tremors for days. Nothing like this. Accumulated dust and dirt fell from higher up in the mill. Chunks followed. "Downstairs!" Hecht ordered. "Everybody out! Earthquake!" Hecht's left wrist itched cruelly. "It's sorcery, not…"

Principal Delari, a ghastly pale, already starting down, said, "I know. Get out. Get the situation under control."

The panic faded. Hecht got down and out. He pushed through a mob of gawkers, all facing downriver. The ruined castle could not be seen. A cloud of dust, or fog, intervened. A breeze shredded that and carried it westward, over the river into the Connec.

Principate Delari poked Hecht in the ribs. "Don't gawk, move."

Hecht moved. Toward the cloud. Which faded to a trace.

His wrist continued to nag. He barked, "Colonel Sedlakova! Have the officers assemble on me immediately."

The earth continued trembling.

From the vantage of a hummock two hundred yards southeast of the mill Hecht could see that a quarter mile of hillside, sloping toward the river, had split like a rip in the seat of too-tight trousers. At several points he saw a pale bluish mother-of-pearl surface. Pulsing.

Puffing, Muniero Delari trudged past. "Come along, Piper. Come along." The old man's course angled uphill. He wanted a closer look at the crack.

The ground shivered. The pearlescent blue moved.

Pinkus Ghort caught up as Hecht and the old man climbed to where they could look down the length of the tear in the earth. He blurted, "Holy shit! It's a giant-ass fucking worm!"

"Grub," Delari corrected. "A larval stage." A wave of motion ran along the thing in the crack. Its downhill end moved forward slightly. The itching at Hecht's wrist amplified severely. "Piper! You should…"

Hecht had decided what he should. "Consent!" Puffing, Titus was catching up. Random officers followed, seriously confused. "Bring out the falcons! With special loads! I need them up here yesterday! Your Grace. Are we seeing what I think we're seeing?"

"The birth of a god. More or less."

"But what… ?"

"I don't know anything you don't. This could be the hatching of an egg left over from before mankind reached this part of the world. But we don't have the luxury of taking time to worry about who, what, where, and all that. We have to act."

True. That thing would be no friend of Piper Hecht's. Or anyone else round here.

It was Esther's Wood all over again. Another race against time. That thing was maturing. He could sense it nursing on what little free power was in circulation nearby. Soon it would want to feed in earnest.

A backward curved horn began to form atop the downhill end.

"That the head down there?" Hecht asked.

"It would seem," Delari replied.

"Pinkus, you aren't in the chain of command but you have a way with words. Go make those gawking fools take this seriously." The whole army wanted to see the monster. No one seemed smart enough to be scared. "Tell my idiot officers I want everyone moving upriver. With the animals. Except the artillerists."

The falcon crews were running round in confusion in the meadow where they had built bunkers to store their weapons and firepowder. Hecht hoped they would not try to tow the weapons. No. Here came Kait Rhuk and his gang, two men dragging the falcon and three lugging ammunition. The other crews seemed intent on following Rhuk's example.

Hecht told Principate Delari, "I should go run this show. They know what to do only in theory. If you think of anything useful to do, don't hesitate." He stumbled down the slope. Several officers intercepted him. He repeated his orders to get everyone out of harm's way. "This thing is going to want to eat. Let's don't be its first meal."