didn’t do him justice. He pulled his hat down further and scanned the front page.
A call for the prelate to resign dominated, and seemed the main topic of conversation at the stall.
“Better a sane king than an insane prelate. Licio’s the best of the councillors at any rate.”
“Bloody councillors are just as bad as the nobles ever were. This equality business only means nothing gets done because they’re too busy arguing about it. Except taxes. They always agree on bloody taxes.”
“Shrive’s busy again too. Getting to be just as bad as the old king, Bakar is. At least the king didn’t expect us to wave a sodding flag at him for being a tyrannical bastard.”
“Be glad if the Ikarans did declare war, then maybe we’d get someone with a decent head on their shoulders.”
“But they’d be Ikaran shoulders, and we’d be dead in our beds. And you’re an idiot. I’d not be glad; I’d be down by the docks stowing away as fast as I could.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing, you’re still an idiot. No one’s glad about war excepting the rich buggers what make money off of it and don’t risk their own necks. Here, does that bloke look familiar to you?”
One of the gossipers jerked his head in Vocho’s direction, who didn’t let them get a better look and, discretion being the better part of keeping his head attached to his shoulders, got himself good and lost in the crowds. He found Kacha and Cospel as arranged, by the bodyguard pen. Kacha in particular looked pensive.
“It’s crazy,” she said in answer to Vocho’s question. “Or the prelate is. Taxes on everything, war looming. They had bread riots down at the docks last week. No iron or coal coming down from the mines on the border because of the whole Ikaras thing, so half the clockers’ factories are just spinning their wheels. Ikarans sending more and more men to the border, and the prelate’s worried about bloody flags.”
“Ikaras again. That keeps cropping up,” Vocho replied. “As does my name and face.”
She grinned. “You always wanted to be famous, Voch, and now you are.”
“I’d rather be alive and famous, thanks very much.” He peered up at the sky, where the sun was sliding towards dusk. “Time to get going. Where’s Dom?”
Dom was sauntering up an alley between two stalls, managing to look jaunty and smug at the same time.
Cassalily was waiting for them when they got there, half seen in the gathering gloom until she stepped forward. The whirring of her hands was very loud, and Vocho was hypnotised by the wind-ups slowly spiralling out their power.
She smiled regally at them all and picked up the papers along with some newer ones written in a bold clear script.
“Here you are.” She handed them to Kacha. “Quite a find. Of course, all their plans will be useless once I become the Clockwork God again. Such blatant disregard for logical truth, such doubting.” She sighed. “All shall become purified by fire and truth when I ascend.”
“Er, thank you,” Kacha managed.
“No, thank you. Look.” Cassalily indicated a small table to one side. On it sat a brass clockwork heart, its movements mimicking the rhythmic beating of a human heart. “Thanks to your truths, all of you, I now have my heart. The rest is only a matter of time.”
“I, er, I’m pleased for you,” Vocho said. “Only won’t fitting it hurt?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Clockwork feels no pain. Clockwork feels nothing except the fire of empirical truth and the strength of power in motion. Surely you all know your scripture?”
“Of course,” Dom interrupted smoothly, cutting off Vocho’s sarcastic reply. “And I’m sure we all look forward to the Clockwork God truly being among us again. Don’t we?”
He turned a bland and watery-eyed face to Vocho, forcing a weak “Yes, of course” from him.
Dom twittered out a few more banalities that left the proto-goddess looking giddy with pleasure while the rest of them hurriedly left. He caught up with them at the edge of the roof.
“Such an interesting woman, don’t you think?”
Kacha gave him a pointed look. “If interesting means crazier than a bag of foxes, then yes, she’s interesting. But not as interesting or as pertinent to our future as what she’s given us. Come on, let’s see what we’ve got.”
The streets were busy, and it would take them a long time to squeeze their way back to the Hammer and Tongs at this time of day, so they found a little tavern with a