Page 127 of City of Stone and Silence

It all burns. The streets where I grew up, where I watched Isoka suffer to try and feed us, keep us safe. The alleys where she was beaten, the doorsteps where she begged. The basement where we nearly froze to death for want of a few scraps of wood, now burning brighter than a furnace.

The family whose minds I destroyed are burning, now. See? I want to tell them. It wouldn’t have mattered. You would have died anyway.

I know that doesn’t mean anything.

And, of course, the Ward Guard are burning. Thousands of them, trapped in the labyrinth of alleys, unable to outrace the leaping flames and get to the sea or the gates. I can’t hear the screams above the roar of the fire, but I can imagine them.

Around me, people are cheering. Jakibsa is gone, hurrying back to Hasaka’s side. Giniva remains, her face impassive.

“What happens now?” she says.

“Now?” I let out a breath. “Now the Emperor calls in the Invincible Legions to destroy us.”

“And what are you going to do?”

Find Kuon Naga. Find Isoka. Or …

“What I can,” I say, “with what I have.”

24

ISOKA

The Harbor system is like the most perfect map ever made, of a city larger than any that ever existed.

It draws itself in my mind’s eye, lines of silver-gray ghost-light spreading outward in a branching, intersecting network, thin in some places and drawn tight into knots in others. I can see the angels, like sparkling ghosts, drawing power from the conduits running under the soil as they go about their tasks. In the distance, Soliton is its own tree of knots and branches, tied into the Harbor system at the edges, still transferring power in a massive flow into the city’s reserves. It’s almost done, I can see now, the great ship nearly empty.

Closer to, there are more draws on the system’s energy, the simpler, cruder designs of Prime’s walking corpses and monsters. I exert my will, and the system responds, closing down these unauthorized taps, and their glowing shapes vanish in an instant.

That’s a good start, Silvoa says. She manifests beside me in the strange non-space, looking considerably more solid than I ever saw her in the real world.

I have no idea what I’m doing. I stare at the system, in all its intricate complexity, and fight off despair. I can touch it, change it, I can feel that, but I have no idea how. Closing off Prime’s monsters was simple, but beyond that I feel like I’m walking through a house made of spun glass. I didn’t realize it would be so … complicated.

It’s not as bad as it looks, once you figure things out, Silova says.

You’ll help me?

As much as I can. She smiles. Like I told Prime, I’ve been living—existing in here for five years.

Is Hagan all right?

She nods, and does something I can almost follow, a flurry of Eddica energy that passes between her and the system. A moment later Hagan is standing with us, outlined in gray light.

Worried about me? he says.

A little.

He gives a rueful smile. Considering you killed me in the first place, I’m not sure how to feel about that.

Wait, she did? Silvoa says. I thought you were friends.

It’s … complicated, I say. And I apologized for that. Didn’t I?

This is a story I have to hear, Silvoa says.

Later. I shake my head. Meroe and the others. Are they all right?

Most of them, Silvoa says. They’re in no danger now that you’ve shut down the corpses.