Page 24 of City of Stone and Silence

“So—” I want to ask him if someone in his clan has an Eddica talent, but I think better of it. I don’t want to tip our hand. Fortunately, Meroe fills the gap.

“Are you the only people here?”

“Unfortunately not,” Veldi says. “We occupy one of the great ziggurats. Another is held by the Minder fanatics”—and here he does look at Zarun, with a disapproving twist to his lip—“and the third is Prime’s territory.”

“They were here when you arrived?” Meroe says.

“Prime has always been here, I think,” Veldi says. “The Minders came with us on Soliton. They were our allies, until they betrayed us.”

“So—”

Meroe’s eyes are bright, eager to explore the mystery, but I hold up a hand to cut her off. “Where do you get food?”

“The angels bring us what we need,” Veldi says. “They work the land, maintain this place.”

“Can you get them to bring us something?”

“We cannot make them do anything,” he says. “But we have more than enough in our stores.” He bows again. “Please, let me return to my clan. I swear I will bring you a proper delegation and what food and supplies we can spare.”

“Can you make it back there?” I ask him. “What about the corpses?”

“For the most part, they are only active at night,” he says. “By day, the angels are about, and they destroy Prime’s servants if they encounter them. But I thank you for your concern.”

I purse my lips, and gesture to Meroe and Zarun. We step back a few paces.

“He’s an odd one,” I tell them. “The way he talks is … old-fashioned. But I don’t get the sense he’s lying.”

“I don’t see the harm in letting him go,” Meroe says. “We are going to need food, and more besides. Bedding, clothes, medicine.”

“He doesn’t seem to care for Jyashtani,” I say, looking at Zarun.

He shrugs. “He wouldn’t be the first Imperial I’ve met to feel that way. As long as he doesn’t try anything, we’ll manage.”

“All right. Tell him he can go, and we’ll gladly accept his offer. Even if he just runs off, I suppose it can’t hurt.”

Meroe nods agreement. Zarun turns away to tell the prisoner the good news, leaving me and Meroe alone.

“Have you ever heard of a Cresos clan in the Empire?” she says.

“No, but I wouldn’t have. Shiara knows more about court history, she might remember something.” I glare at Veldi as Zarun helps him to his feet.

“You don’t trust him?” Meroe says.

“That’s not it. If Soliton comes back here every year, then…” I shake my head. “It has to leave soon. And I rotting have to be on it when it does, or else.…”

“I get it,” Meroe says. “We’ll find a way.” Then her forehead creases, deep in thought.

Veldi departs on his own, jogging without fear into the jungle. He was serious about the monsters not being a problem during the day, apparently.

He claims he’ll be back by evening. In the meantime, we keep everyone inside the ziggurat and guards on the doorways. Meroe and Shiara gather what food there is—scraps that happened to be in people’s packs, or that they grabbed in haste when the angels came—and share it out as equitably as they can. It’s a tribute to how much trust the crew has in Meroe after the Garden that those who have food give it up without a murmur.

Some of the fighters press me to let them go into the woods to hunt. If Veldi doesn’t come through, tomorrow we’ll have to risk it, but right now I don’t want to split our strength when we have only his word for what’s out there. One hungry day isn’t going to kill anyone, I hope. I walk restlessly to the guard posts, checking up on things. It’s something you learn as a ward boss—the value of being seen, even if you aren’t really doing anything. Sometimes people treat leaders like fairy stories: if they can’t see you with their own eyes, they don’t believe you’re real.

I wonder what’s happened to the Sixteenth Ward. I’ve been gone long enough that they’ve probably appointed someone to fill my place. No one will question my disappearance much, I’m sure.

Except Tori. That thought gnaws at the back of my mind, and I pause by the northern entrance, which looks out to sea. Soliton is still there, docked beside her decayed sisters, looking for all the world like she’s never going anywhere. But she is, and soon. I have to get back aboard.

“Deepwalker!” A trim young Jyashtani woman hurries up to me, offering a crisp salute. I recognize her, vaguely, as a fighter from one of Zarun’s packs. “Someone’s arrived.”