“Ka take us,” he murmurs. “Who could make such a thing?”
I follow his gaze. Slow as well. “The better question is, who could destroy it?” I mutter.
Up ahead, the cavern finally ends, but not in a wall like the ones around us. Instead the way is clogged by rubble and wreckage, great boulders surrounding the rusting remains of some kind of massive construction. Steel thicker than a man’s body juts twisted and crumpled from the stone, snaking upward into the concealing gloom. Only its base remains clear, several more holes sucking the remaining water greedily into their darkness.
Our guide hasn’t paused, is apparently unfazed by the sight as she angles us toward the debris that, I realise, will allow us to clamber across to the other side of the flow. I push Ahmose gently back into motion. Heart quickening.
It’s been hard to tell for certain but if my mental map is right, we’ve been following the path of the Infernis above.
This might be a way to the east.
I examine the ruins of the massive device as we draw closer. Hints of huge cogs in amongst it all, though everything is so damaged and corroded it’s hard to tell. It reminds me a little of the sketches I’ve seen of some of the great machines the Hierarchy built with Will, the ones used in mining and other areas I’ve had no cause to see in person. We studied them at the Academy. Emissa once noted one of them appeared to be a giant middle finger, constantly raisingfrom and retracting into a clenched hand. Praeceptor Nequias was furious for the rest of the class when none of us—not even Iro—could restrain our smirks whenever he referred us to the diagram.
The sight, the memory, brings a twinge. Is the version of me in Res relaxing somewhere with Emissa, right now? Laughing with Callidus and Eidhin? Or did he somehow manage to win the Iudicium and find a peaceful escape to the embassy in Jatiere? Caeror’s words ring true again and again as I navigate this place, this world. Once, I would have given anything to be free of the Hierarchy.
But things can always be worse.
I take a deep, acidic breath and square my shoulders, following the woman and child as they begin the somewhat precarious journey across the rubble. I may not like where I have ended up, but without me, there will be no better life—here or in Res—if I don’t succeed.
“What is this place?” My curiosity finally overcoming the woman’s very obvious lack of desire to talk to us. “Are we beneath the Infernis?”
“Yes.”
I examine the rushing torrents we’re making our way over, and then the streams of water plummeting from the darkness in the distance. “So this is some sort of overflow.” I’ve seen the water level of the Infernis rise and fall constantly in the valley outside the city, but above us, in Duat, it never seems to change. I picture the massive waterfall on the northern exterior of the black pyramid, where the river spouts from Duat and almost immediately drops a hundred feet. “It funnels the excess down here, then connects again outside the city?” The relative elevations would make sense.
She gives me a shrewd look. “I am told some of this water feeds the wells. Other than that, I wouldn’t know.”
I reexamine the channels disappearing beneath our feet. There are only a few wells in Neter-khertet, though I know from Ahmose that they are far more common in the east. Clean water, available to all for washing or drinking. But the Westerners don’t need it for the latter. “How is it made safe?”
Our guide either doesn’t hear or, more likely, ignores me. And probably doesn’t know the answer either way. I let it drop.
Soon enough we’re across the main flow, then choking our way back through two more green-tinged clouds before the woman finally opens a relatively small gate made of obsidian bars, gesturing us through. Inside is dim, lit only by theshimmering green from the rushing water outside. I peer into the gloom, straining to see anything beyond Ahmose’s silhouette and austere grey walls.
Behind us, there’s a booming sound.
I spin. Curse. Dive. Too late. The stately stranger and child stand on the other side of the barred gate, and I know even before I slam into it and try yanking it open that it’s locked.
“So. Now we can talk,” says the woman, holding up the key she just used to lock us in before tucking it into a pocket. “And make your answers honest. You were most astute in your observation before; these ways serve as an overflow for the Infernis, when the great storms to the south swell it beyond what should flow through Duat above. That happens every few days, and when it does, the space you are in is flooded.” She shrugs, leaving us to extrapolate the remainder.
Vek. I’d considered trying to surreptitiously imbue the girl at her side, based on what Ahmose said earlier, but it felt wrong because of her age. I’m regretting my delicateness now. “We’ve been nothing but truthful.” I keep my tone calm and steady. As much for Ahmose’s sake as my own; I can see my companion’s inevitable panic coming from the corner of my eye. I study the woman’s evident sense of control. Suddenly frown. “You’re Netiqret, aren’t you.”
Only a flicker of irritation to indicate I’ve guessed correctly. She squints through the bars as if we’re a puzzle to be solved. “And your companion is Ahmose al Maq. Iunctus and fugitive from Ka. While you … you do not appear to exist. What is your name?”
“Siamun.” The name Ahmose and I decided upon, when it became clear I wasn’t going to be able to complete my task with the alacrity I’d hoped. Face wrappings can’t hide a name that sounds notably unusual.
“Well, Siamun. I must admit, when I heard someone was asking to see me, I assumed you were a new type of iunctus. Some new trick of Ka’s. I do not usually have clients on this side of the bridge.”
“Clients?”
Netiqret cocks her head to the side. “I assume you are seeking the services of amesektet?”
I don’t know the word, but when I glance across at Ahmose, I can see immediately that he does. There’s a tightening of his jaw.
Whatever Netiqret is, he doesn’t like it.
“Ah.” Netiqret sees it too. “Ah. Well. Thatisinteresting. If you are not after my services, then why have you been asking for me? Andhowdid you getmy name?” Her shadowed brown eyes bore into mine. Unflinching. A hard woman, beneath her refined façade. She’s genuinely not letting us out unless she’s satisfied.
I step up to the bars, spreading my hands in a careful display of nonaggression. “We just need to get across to the other side of the river. I wasn’t lying about where I got your name. I got it from a man named Djedef. He said you helped him escape the city, and I thought if you knew how to get someone outside, perhaps you had a way of getting around which the Overseers didn’t know about.” I gesture to the space outside. “Which seems like it was a good guess.”
