Ventus

Armiger walked over to the parapet. The monastery was just over halfway up the vertical eastern face of the north Gate. Invisible from the valley was a broad ledge, almost a plateau, that narrowed to nothingness a hundred meters north, but broadened to the south as it swept around the curve of the mountain face. The monastery buildings were built towards the north end, so that the very last towers hugged the cliff itself with sheer rock below them. The stairway arrived midway along the south edge of the plateau, where the monks had built a garden around the front gates of the monastery.

"What lies that way?" asked Armiger, pointing to the southerly curve of the narrow plateau.

"Habitations of the Winds," said the Abbot.

"Desal machines," added Galas. "There's bottomless pits, waterfalls spouting out of the cliffs... it's hard to describe."

"And the distance to the southern peak?"

"About three-quarters of a kilometer at this point," said the Abbot.

Armiger nodded. "Too narrow for a vagabond moon to fit."

"What are you thinking?" she asked him.

"I'm satisfied about the stairs down," he said. "But I somehow doubt that's where our threat will come from."

"Why do you say that?"

"Look." He pointed at the moons. As far as she could tell, they hadn't moved. They hung over the far end of the valley and the foothills, seemingly close enough to touch, but in reality kilometers away.

Armiger must have seen her uncomprehending expression. He said, "Count them."

She did so. There were eleven.

"An hour ago," said Armiger, "there were twelve."

A new sun came on, exactly at the zenith. It appeared first as a sliver of brightness, then bloomed over a few seconds into a square too bright to look at. In those few seconds, the sky underwent a complete transformation from twilight to day; every shade of blue flashed through the heavens as the stars went out everywhere except near the deep blue horizon. Way out there, clouds and the edges of the furthest vagabond moons lay in shadow; nearer in, they gleamed in pure sunlight.

Axel squinted up at the light. "Solar mirror," he said. "Big sucker."

Jordan nodded. He had seemed subdued ever since Axel and Marya had told him what they'd learned about thalience and Turcaret. Axel had seen him shake his head several times, scowling.

"So we're going to meet the infamous Armiger," Axel said. "I've been wanting to do that for almost a year. You say you spoke to him once? You still think he's not a resurrection seed?"

Jordan hesitated. "I don't think so," he said. "But I'm not sure."

"Don't say that," said Axel. "Say, 'Axel, he's not a resurrection seed, and I can prove it.' That would make me happy, if you could say that to me."

"He's up to something, and I'm not sure what," Jordan said. "I don't think that proves anything either way."

"You said he took the secret of commanding the Winds from you, but he hasn't used it. And you don't know why not."

Jordan shook his head. "He should have started using it right away. He could have taken over the world by now if he'd been able to."

"He has the technology, but not the keys," said Marya. "It's exactly like Turcaret. He can speak to them, but they're not listening."

"Oh, they're listening," said Jordan. "They hear what I say, and they talk back. That's not it."

She shook her head. "But thalience..."

Jordan barked a laugh. "Whatever thalience is, the swans have given up on it. They're bitter, and they're in the mood to clean up after neglecting their jobs for a long time. So they plan to wipe humanity off of Ventus."

Jordan's companion said, "You said this fellow Turcaret had to have a certain kind of... thing in him."

"DNA." Marya nodded vigorously. "Yes, that must be it. Armiger doesn't have the proper DNA."

"Not quite true," said Axel. "The fact is, he probably doesn't have DNA at all. ...So that's it."

Jordan nodded. "He has the broadcast power, but not the 'password'."

"That's what we came to find out," said Marya. "Let's get back to the ship."

"No!" Jordan ran several steps ahead. "We're nearly there!"

"Nearly where?" They had come to an almost vertical cliff—the end of a long sinuous drape of Titans' Gate stone. The cliff was seamless, and at least fifty meters high.

"There's a door into the Gates here," said Jordan.

There was a flash of lightning, and moments later a grumble of thunder from fairly nearby. Tamsin pointed up through the trees. "Here they come."

The Heaven hooks were descending on the valley. They were no less impressive in daylight than they had been at night; it was simply clearer now what they were. Three of the vagabond moons were edging over the valley; together they would fill the sky over it from one end to the other. Their very bottommost sections had petalled open, and now long black gantries and cables were unreeling. From a distance these looked delicate, but the gantries were thicker than the trees below them.

As Axel watched, lightning stuttered from the cables of the lead craft. A long line of explosions stitched across the valley floor.

"If we're going to get to the ship we have to leave now," said the Voice.

Jordan shook his head. "The swans are waiting if it takes off. They haven't moved against it because the Hooks are going to take care of it."

"How do you know that?"

"I used to rely on Mediation to relay what they were saying. I don't need to anymore. I can hear them myself now."

They all stopped walking and stared at Jordan. He put his hands on his hips and glared back.

"Are you go

Surprised, Axel laughed.

"But, the ship!" wailed Marya.

"The ship is about to be eaten," said Jordan with a shrug. "We're going this way." He pointed to the cliff.

Marya glanced at Axel; he shrugged.

"Apparently we are," he said.

43

"What are they doing? I gave no orders for them to move!"

Lavin stood perilously near the open door of the vagabond moon. He needed this vantage point to watch the proceedings below. It was obvious from here that three of the other moons had broken formation and were moving, like ponderous floating islands, to cover the valley.

Lavin's own moon had sailed south and swept around behind the Titan's Peaks. For a while as the moon rotated he had seen nothing but ocean, sunlit for a few kilometers then abruptly plunged in darkness. Then the Titans' Gates had appeared again, very close.

The moon had been moving with frightening speed. Although the wind didn't penetrate the doors, somehow, he could hear it roaring, and all across the floor of the moon the guy wires popped and groaned as the great craft strove to keep its shape. Almost continuous flashes of lightning lit its interior, and the smell of ozone was overpowering. Once or twice as they passed the lower peaks south of the Gates, brilliant bolts had shot down, apparently from right under Lavin's feet, shattering wind-sculpted pine trees on the tops of the mountains below.

A different Lavin would have found the experience thrilling, as many of his men obviously did. They were keyed up to an almost intolerable degree, waiting in their ranks for the order to move.

A bast sauntered over to Lavin and turned its amber eyes to where he pointed. "We move to obliterate a threat in the valley," it said. "It is not your concern."

"A goodly portion of my army is in that valley."

The bast shook its head. "They have been pulled back, except for a few squads that are nearing the stairways. Your suggestion to attack from this direction was heeded and acted upon. Your army is not threatened."

"Then you have no need for it anymore?"

The bast shrugged. "For the moment, no."