“And a way to disguise yourself, otherwise?” He nods to my arm.
“Diago’s going to give me away,” I point out dryly.
“Diago? Oh.” He registers I’m talking about the alupi, and smiles. “How droll. Don’t worry about that. Your arm?”
I frown, but see I’m not getting any more from him. Concentrate.
The hundred iron triangles I’ve been keeping as a snug layer of protection beneath my shirt begin to quiver. Slide, flowing upward and into the dangling sleeve on my left. Slowly they coalesce, fitting into place, filling out the cloth. At the end of it, the glimmering iron outline of a hand appears.
I calmly reach into my pocket, pull out a glove, and tug it over the smaller triangles that form the fingers, completely concealing any trace of the metal.
“Gods’ graves.” Relucia stares at me with what I think is a newfound respect.
“Indeed,” murmurs Ostius. A glint in his eye as he examines me. “How much control do you have?”
I raise my gloved metal hand, and slowly unfurl the middle finger in his direction.
“Oh you arefun, my boy. Relative Harmonics, I assume? Differently-sized pieces but all the same form, to most effectively use the link. You just need to know how you want them to fit together.” He paces around me. Squeezes the arm, confirms that it won’t move. “Low weight, mostly Will-locked except the joints. Easy enough to change its form when you need to. Yes. Hm. And you must haveforgedthese, too! More reliable than stone, a little of your own Will already in every piece. Clever. Very clever.”
I restrain a scowl, annoyed that he deduced it all so quickly. Harmonic imbuing is one of the most difficult skills to learn, and mentally locking similar objects to one another comes at a high enough cost that it’s usually eschewed by Sextii. The benefits, generally, aren’t considered worth losing the majority of your Will on a single imbuing.
But there are two major advantages, for my purposes. The first is that after the initial outlay of Will, it’smucheasier to add components to a Harmonic arrangement than it is to imbue them normally—it’s the only way I can control enough of these pieces at once to serve my purposes. And the second is that while difficult to initially construct, a Harmonic imbuing is actually quite easy to maintain once it’s established.
“And your mask?” Ostius has finished his inspection, though still looks almost childlike in his apparent delight at my ingenuity.
I separate more triangular pieces from my chest, this time letting them move up and settle over my head. They soon sit warm against my cheeks and scalp, a complete metallic encasing of my face, hair, and neck. The only openings are for my eyes, which will be completely black once I pour the last of my Will into self-imbuing, and a thin slit to breathe through. I know from looking in the mirror that the effect is eerie.
“Striking,” says Ostius with an approving nod. “Intimidating.Memorable. Yes.Yes. This will donicely.”
I hold the mask and arm in place. The arm in particular is easy, almost natural—partly from months of training but I think partly also because of what Lanistia suggested, what feels like an eternity ago. It doesn’t feel like an extension of my body, as imbued objects normally do. It’s instead the replacement of something that I still, in many ways, expect to be there. “For what?” I flex my gloved false hand. Several of the pieces of iron in it are more heavily worked than the others. Reinforced and razor-sharp. I’ve been practicing with those, too.
“Much better to show you.” Ostius swivels and almost dances over to me, his step light with anticipation. He grips me by the shoulder and places a hand on Diago’s neck. The alupi growls as my own anxiety rises. “Keep that mask on until I tell you.”
His eyes flood to black.
It’s a moment and it’s an eternity. I am frozen in place and not even my lungs will respond. Unbearable compression threatens to crush me. Unbearable decompression tries to flay the skin from my body. I cannot scream. I cannot breathe.
I see Relucia watching us but she is not moving either. There is no sound. Everything is shaking and folding and popping and twisting and fading. I take it in and cannot understand it, cannot make sense of what I’m seeing.
Then I hear it. Just for a second. Deep. Bringing me back to a terror far worse than whatever is here now.
Thrum.
And we’re somewhere else.
L
SCATTERED PETALS ARE A WHISPERING BLANKET OF VIbrant red and blue and purple, their gentle shifting underfoot occasionally reflected in the black mirror of the obsidian statues and obelisks dotted around eastern Duat. The vivid colours compliment the chattering and giddy laughter permeating the city as people all but dance to their respective feasts with their departed loved ones, lit by Ka’s deep golden glow that represents the last fading of the light outside.
“They grow all these on the upper levels?” I nudge a few petals with my foot.
“Somewhere in the temple, I believe.” Netiqret’s expression and body language matches that of those around us, a joyful energy to it that I know is feigned only because I know her. “Every year for the Return, iunctii emerge with great baskets to scatter them along the main paths. There’s no space in the Apex, so I can only assume.”
I grunt. The upper level of Duat is where the majority of the iunctii serve, droves leaving from the west each day via the great staircase, a solemn procession of white. All to sow and harvest indoor crops that still grow, despite being sealed away from the sun. From what Ahmose has described, it’s an extraordinarily large version of Qabr’s garden. “And this is their only purpose?”
“As far as I know.” She must see my distaste for the excess because she shakes her head, ever so slightly. Smile still firmly in place as she scans the way ahead. “Look happy. Excited. Ka is showing his benevolence and power, and you’re on your way to seeing relatives who you get to speak to only once every year.”
I adjust my fine tunic—covering the uncomfortably sheer dancer’s garb that would draw far too much attention, with me accompanying the clearly noble Netiqret—and do as she says. Ahmose trails us at a respectful distance, wrapped in white. One of many iunctii on the street. It would be improper to speak to him directly in public, but tonight is one night he won’t seem at all out of place here.
