Exodus from the Long Sun

“No, Your Eminence.

“What day is it now? As we, ah, converse.”

How many times had their captors halted to eat and sleep? Three? Four? “I can’t be sure.” Maytera Mint was begi

“Guess, General. What day?”

“Hieraxday or Thelxday, I suppose.”

“Bodies, eh? Vultures?”

“No. Just the skylands, the building and the stones.”

“Mirrors, monkeys, deer? Cards, teacups — ah — string? Any colored string? Poultry, nothing of the sort?”

“No, Your Eminence. Nothing of the sort.”

“Space — um — largeness? Skylands, eh? You were — ah — not insensible of them?”

“I knew that they were there, Your Eminence. In fact they seemed significant, though I can’t say how.”

“We, er, progress? Yes, progress. Actually happened, you said? Building fell, eh? You rescued.”

“Yes, it was at the begi

“We were like children who have gone to palaestra for the first time the year before. When the next year starts, children like that feel themselves old hands, veterans. They give advice to the new children and patronize them, when the truth is that their own education has scarcely begun.”

Remora grunted assent. “I have observed, um, similar.”

“And now — I mean before we went out to that house where the calde was rescued. Things had quieted down. We had the Fourth pe

She waited for Remora to speak, but he did not.

“People came forward. They would appear, so to speak, to tell us how bravely they’d fought and all they’d done. And I’d think, who are you? Why didn’t I ever notice you before, if you were such a famous fighter? Bison had done everything, taken part in almost every fight.

“And Wool, I’d think. Wool has done a great deal, never shirked, not always saying I’ll do it, General, like Bison, but when we were repulsed and I’d look back and see one person still there, still shooting when the rest had fallen back and there were hoppies — Guardsmen, Your Eminence, troopers of the Civil Guard — close enough to touch, it would be Wool.

“Then I’d remember that Wool was dead, and think where were the ones who rode with me, where was Kingcup who brought us her horses when her horses were all she had? I hope she’s alive, Your Eminence, but I couldn’t locate her, couldn’t find her, and all these new people telling about the wonderful things they’d done, when I didn’t remember them at all. Skink led an attack on the Palatine and had both his less blown off. Where was he? Where was the giant with the gaps in his teeth? I don’t even remember his name, but I remember looking up at them, he must have been twice my height, and wondering who had been big enough to hit him way up there, and what he’d hit him with, and what had happened after he did it.”

“What was his name?”

“The giant, Your Eminence? I can’t recall it. Cat? Or Tomcat, something like that. No, Gib. That was it. Gib. It means a male cat, Your Eminence, so that would make it Snarling Sphigx, the Patroness of Trivigaunte. Cats are hers, cats and lions. But Gib wasn’t in my dream.”

“The man who saved you.”

“Oh, him. It was Rook, but rooks aren’t sacred to any god, are they, Your Eminence? Eagles for Pas. Hawks, too, because hawks are little eagles, or something like them. Thrushes and larks for Molpe, but rooks can’t sing. Poultry for Thelxiepeia, as Your Eminence said a moment ago, but rooks — wait.

“I’ve got it, Your Eminence. I was thinking lists, wasn’t I? Thinking about lists instead of animals and what they look like. And a rook looks like a night chough, like the calde’s pet. The calde got him to give to the god who enlightened him. People think it was Pas, almost everyone seems to think that, but I asked the calde about it and he said it wasn’t, that it was one of the minor gods, the Outsider. I don’t know much about him, Your Eminence. I’m sure you must know much more than I, but night choughs must be sacred to him. Or if they aren’t, they’re associated with him now, because that was the sacrifice the calde chose. Isn’t that correct, Your Eminence?”

Remora did not reply.

Maytera Mint thought of getting up to see whether he had gone. It seemed to her that she had slept even as she spoke aloud; but it was too delicious, far too delicious to lie where she was, with Bison in the other bed snoring softly and Auk to watch over them. “Auk?” she called softly. “Auk?”

Auk would bring them water, would surely bring water if she asked for it, a carafe of cold clear water, fresh from the well, and glasses. More loudly this time: “Auk!”

Yeah, Mother. Right here.

“Auk, my son?”

“Sorry, Patera.” Shivering in the afternoon sunlight, Auk returned his attention to Incus. “Thought I heard something.”

“You desired to speak with me?”

“Right. Back in the manteion you explained what he said.” Auk felt uneasy among the Palatine’s gracious mansions of gray stone; until now he had visited them only to steal.

“I endeavored to explain, certainly. It was my sacred duty to do so, thus I strove to make clear the divine utterances.”

“You were clear as polymer, Patera,” Hammerstone declared loyally. “I felt like I could understand every word Pas ever said before you finished.”

Voices called for them to halt, and they did.

“Bios with slug guns, Patera. I heard them behind us, but I was hoping they wouldn’t mess around.”

Afraid he was about to be arrested, Auk grumbled, “Can’t a man walk uphill any more?”

By then the patrol leader had noted Incus’s black robe. “Sorry, Patera. It’s the soldier. They say some are on our side. Is he one?”

Hammerstone nodded. “You got it.”

“Indeed, my son.” Incus favored the patrol with a toothy smile. “You have my sacred word as an augur and your — well, let us not go into that. You have my sacred word that Corporal Hammerstone longs for the overthrow of the Ayuntamiento, even as I do myself.”

“I’m Sergeant Linsang,” the patrol leader said. “Are you going to the Grand manteion, Patera?”

Incus shook his head. “To the Prolocutor’s Palace, my son. I am a resident thereof” His voice grew confidential. “I have been favored with a theophany. Great Pas himself so favored me. It is not the first, but the second time that I have been thus favored by the gods. You will scarcely credit it, I know, for I scarcely credit it myself. But both my companions were present upon the latter occasion. They will attest to the theophany, I feel quite certain.”

One of Linsang’s troopers raised his slug gun so that it no longer pointed at Auk. “Aren’t you Auk? Auk the prophet?”

“That’s me.”

“He’s been going all over the city,” the trooper explained to Linsang, “telling everybody to get ready for Pas’s Plan. He says Tartaros told him to.”

“He did,” Auk declared stoutly. “Pas wants me to keep on doing it, too. What about you, trooper? Are you set to go? Set to give up on the whole whorl?”

Linsang asked, “What did Pas say? That is if I’m not—”

“It is irregular,” Incus conceded, “but not contrary to the canon. Do all of you desire to hear the words of the Father of the Gods?”