“I’m not sure that would be prudent, Lord.”

“Perhaps not prudent,” Sethbert said, “but at least proper. I do have guardianship of Windwir for the time.” He loved the irony of those words. He wondered what his cousin, Oriv, would think if he knew the entire truth? Or if he realized the intricate puppetry that had spared this new Pope the fate of Windwir? Sethbert had paid a small fortune to ensure his mother’s sister’s firstborn son was safely away before he shook the cage of Heaven and taunted down the anger of the Gods.

“If my Lord wishes,” Lysias said, “we could ride out this afternoon.”

Sethbert nodded. “That would be fine, General.” He sipped from the chilled coffee. “Is there more?”

Lysias looked uncomfortable. “Word of your-” he struggled to find the right word to say “-involvement in the fall of Windwir is spreading through the camp.” He paused. “At the moment, it is mere rumor. Overheard bits between officers. You’ve not been careful in your boasting.”

Sethbert laughed. “Why should I be? Call the camp together and I’ll tell them all gladly. You were the one who felt it should be kept quiet. I’ve indulged you, General, as much as I am wont to.”

Lysias was a conservative, Sethbert knew, relying on the control of information as a part of his wartime strategy. Academy trained, this old veteran was brilliant at his work but shackled to a way of doing things that no longer mattered.

Because of me, Sethbert thought, smiling. I’ve changed the world.

The general gritted his teeth. “I thought you understood, Lord Sethbert, the importance of discretion in this matter.”

Sethbert waved his words away. “The rumors are inconsequential. Let me show you.” He clapped and a servant entered. “Which one are you?” Sethbert asked.

The servant bowed. “I am Geryt, Lord.”

“Geryt, do you believe I destroyed the city of Windwir with one of the Androfra‹of 0emncines’s metal playthings?”

The servant looked from Sethbert to Lysias, obviously unsure of how to answer.

“Well?” Sethbert said.

Pale-faced, the servant finally spoke. “I’ve heard such, Lord Sethbert, even from your own lips.”

“Yes,” Sethbert said slowly, leaning forward, “but do you believe it?”

The eyes came up and locked with Sethbert’s. “I do not know what to believe, Lord Sethbert.”

Sethbert smiled and sat back, waving the servant away. “My point exactly, General Lysias. No one knows what to believe. One will believe Sethbert speaks the truth, another will say that it is madness to believe one man could bring down a city.” His smile widened. “And some will even believe it was that damnable Gypsy King.”

Lysias nodded, but the dark look in his eyes told Sethbert that the general didn’t agree. It didn’t matter. The old general certainly was right, but Sethbert couldn’t tell him so. Sethbert had been a bit too vocal when he’d first seen the fruit of his labor. The pillar of smoke, the blasted city, even the look of utter desolation on that Androfrancine boy’s face had been the most potent of liquors, driving him giddy with accomplishment.

After all, he thought, who wouldn’t feel a bit drunk after saving the world?

Jin Li Tam sat outside her small tent with Isaak, picking at the bowl of steamed rice and dried vegetables while she listened to the scouts talk in low voices.

So far, they’d encountered nothing but scattered groups of Androfrancines making their way north. They’d moved off the roads to avoid them, and she was grateful that Isaak had permitted this. A part of her had feared he’d wish to join them.

But he hadn’t.

And part of her had thought perhaps he’d not tolerate their need to make camp, to take food, to take sleep along the way.

But he’d quietly acquiesced.

“You don’t want to go back,” she told him between bites.

He looked over to her. He’d pulled back his hood, and the last of the sunlight glinted off his round head. “I am a danger to them,R‹er ew 21; he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “I am a danger to the entire world.”

She’d put as many of the pieces together as she could, and out of respect-if a machine could be shown respect-she’d not pressed for more. But now, just two days away from the Papal Summer Palace and Gods knew what awaited them there, it was time to check her assumptions.

“Sethbert used you,” she said. “This much is obvious. The Androfrancines unearthed some ancient weapon and Sethbert somehow bent your script to his own dark purposes.”

Isaak said nothing for a moment, his eye shutters fluttering like steel moths. When he spoke, his voice was low. “I understand that the sons and daughters of House Li Tam are among the best educated in the world,” he said. “You are familiar with the history of the Old World?”

She nodded. “What of it we know. Most of it is lost.”

“When P’Andro Whym led the extermination of the Young Wizard Kings-the Seven Sons of Xhum Y’Zir-their father shut himself away for seven years, and at the end of that time, brought forth a spell-”

Her breath went out from her. “The Seven Cacophonic Deaths,” she said.

Isaak nodded. “He sent his Death Choirs into all the lands, singing their blood magick and calling down the wrath of that grieving archmage.”

Jin Li Tam knew the story well. After that Third Cataclysm, the Age of Laughing Madness settled upon what generations to come would call the Churning Wastes. A few had survived, but they were driven mad by what they’d seen. A few-a very few-had hidden themselves beneath the ground or in the mountain caves of the Dragon’s Spine that cut across the far north. These had come forth later, digging the ruins and gathering up what little remained for what was left of the world. Of course, by then that first Rudolfo had already disappeared north and west, beyond the Keeper’s Wall, to hide himself away in that ocean of prairie at the far end of the New World.

Jin’s voice lowered. “You have the spell?”

Isaak nodded. “I sang it in the central courts of Windwir and watched the city reel from it.”

Jin shuddered. “How could such a thing happen?”

Isaak turned away. “My script was modified. They were always so careful with us. Brother Charles expunged my memory each night, careful that I should not keep such knowledge. But his apprentice-under Lord Sethbert’s instruction-altered my activity script.”

Jin shook her head. “Not that. I can piece that together myself. Sethbert has fingers on many strings. What I don’t understand is why they would even undertake such dangerous work in the first place?”

Isaak looked at her, and steam trickled from his exhaust grate. “The preservation of all knowledge is at the heart of the Androfrancine vision.”

Jin knew this was true. Along with an abiding curiosity about how and why things work. She’d heard stories of fabulous machines and intricate mechanicals kept locked away in the hidden vaults of the now dead city. Her father, along with others close to the Order, had benefited from this. There was the mechanical bird in his garden-a trinket really. But more practical than that, there were the iron ships at his docks, powered by engines that the Androfrancines had built from ancient specifications and housed in high, broad iron-shod cruisers. It made House Li Tam the most formidable naval power in the Named Lands.

Perhaps, she thought now, the root of Windwir’s fall lay exposed in that.

They hid in their city, guarded by Gods knew what in addition to their Gray Guard. And they doled out scraps of knowledge and innovation to those they favored, withholding it from those they did not. They held on to what they learned until they felt the world was ready for it.

They’d been so cautious about those outside of their city but had somehow not brought the same level of care within their own Order. Somehow, Sethbert had learned of the spell and had then learned how to use it to bring down the Androfrancines.