Foundryside (The Founders Trilogy #1) - Robert Jackson Bennett Page 0,21

became slang for the sexual practice of…

said Clef.

she asked.

said Clef.

There was a long pause. he said, and he sounded somewhat unsettled.

Another long silence. asked Clef quietly.

Sancia took that as a no.

he said,

Sancia froze.

said Clef.

she demanded.

Clef said, now sounding confused again.

Sancia slowly leaned back against the wall. The world felt wobbly and distant to her as she tried to process all of this.

To begin with, it now seemed abundantly clear that Clef was suffering from some kind of memory loss. It felt odd to diagnose a key with a mental affliction, given that Sancia still didn’t understand how or even if he possessed something resembling a mind. But if he did have a mind, that long time spent trapped in the dark—decades, if not centuries—would have been more than enough to break it.

Perhaps Clef was damaged. Either way, it seemed Clef did not know his own potential—and that was troubling, since Clef already seemed stupefyingly powerful.

Because though few understood how scriving worked, everyone in the world understood that it was both powerful and reliable. When merchant house ships—scrived to part the waters with incredible ease, and sporting altered sails that always billowed with the perfect breeze at the perfect angle—pulled up in front of your city and pointed their vast, scrived weaponry at you, you understood that all those weapons would work perfectly well, and you’d promptly surrender.

The alternative—the idea that those ships might malfunction, or fail—was inconceivable.

But it wasn’t anymore. Not to Sancia, clutching Clef in her hand.

Scriving formed the foundation of the Tevanni empire. It had won countless cities, built up an army of slaves, and sent them to work in the plantation isles. But now, in Sancia’s mind, that foundation was beginning to shift, and crack…

Then her skin went cold. If I were a merchant house, she thought to herself, I’d do everything in my power to destroy Clef, and make sure no one ever, ever knew he’d existed.

said Clef cheerily.

She was wondering that herself.

She rubbed her mouth. Then she stood up, hung Clef back around her neck, and started off.

6

Sancia slipped down alleys and passageways and crossed the carriage fairways of Foundryside until she came to the next Commons neighborhood—Old Ditch. Foundryside might have been unpleasant to live in because of the residents—the neighborhood was notorious for its dense concentration of criminals—but Old Ditch was unpleasant due to its environment: since it was situated next to the Tevanni tanneries, the whole area smelled like death and rot.

Sancia did not mind such odors, however, and she wandered down a meandering alley, peering through the staggered rookeries and wooden shacks. The alley ended in a small, bland door, but hanging above it were four lit colored lanterns—three red, one blue.

Not