I did glance at each other, all urge to smile gone.
“Ah,” Ta’uz muttered, and we tried to follow the line of his eyes.
“There,” Yaqob mouthed at me, and pointed surreptitiously. Ta’uz was staring at a small pile of stones to one side of the workmen; they were using them to build a ledge on which the capstone would rest.
The sunlight was bright, and the distance great, but what happened next I saw in such clear detail it was as if I was but three paces distant from the peak. None of the five workmen were close to the pile of stones at that moment, all absorbed by some problem in the mortaring further around the peak. But somehow…somehow the topmost rock lazily lifted itself from the pile, seemingly hovered as if indecisive – as if choosing – then hurtled towards the ground, impossibly fast, too fast, a blur, and embedded itself in the head of a slave walking out of Threshold’s mouth.
It hit with such impact that it burst the man’s face and skull in a shower of blood and brain, and still had enough force to cleave his neck apart and completely embed itself between his shoulder blades.
Threshold’s shadow winked.
For an instant, the entire site stilled, then Ta’uz gave a great cry and ran to the prone figure at the top of the ramp. Yaqob and I were only a step behind him.
Ta’uz dropped to his knees beside the headless corpse – everything within two paces had been splattered with blood and brain – and reached out a trembling hand. He stopped himself just before he touched the man’s shoulder, the top of the rock clearly visible amid his smashed vertebrae.
I took a step backwards, sickened, but not before Ta’uz had raised his face to Threshold and whispered, “Why?”
9
TA’UZ recovered within moments of the death. He ordered the body’s disposal, then, beckoning impatiently to Yaqob and myself, he proceeded inside to inspect the Infinity Chamber.
It was bad, far more so than usual. Normally the glass screamed within the chamber, but this day it was subdued. Terrified. Whatever had possessed Threshold had also shocked the glass into almost complete silence, and when Ta’uz demanded of me why tears ran down my cheeks, I said it was because of the slave who’d died outside.
“Foolish girl,” he snapped. “Lives are for us or Threshold to dispose of as we will. Does the glass fit well enough?”
“It fits well enough, Excellency. The stresses are minimal and it sits full square.”
“Good.” He paused. “You share quarters with Raguel, do you not?”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“Then tell her to be at my quarters by star-rise. And tell her to wash first.”
“As you will, Excellency.”
With that he grunted and turned to Yaqob, telling him to hurry with his measurements.
The incident laid a pall over the entire site. Too many people had witnessed the death of the slave for any to discount the story of his lazy, deliberate execution at the will of Threshold.
No-one within our workshop had known the slave, but we heard of him quickly enough. He was a simple labourer by the name of Gaio, and he was not an Elemental. There was no reason why Threshold should have chosen to kill him, save the fact of his existence. It could have been any of us.
The body had been removed quickly, but somehow the stain of Gaio’s blood remained on the stones surrounding Threshold’s entranceway for weeks, despite the most strenuous attempts to wash it off. It wore away only with the passage of feet, and then only slowly, for most took great care to avoid it.
If the Magi were perturbed, they hid it well. They stalked the precincts of all three compounds, their faces masked, eyes vivid with power, and they gave away none of their inner thoughts or worries – if, indeed, they had any.
But Ta’uz was disturbed. There were moments when his doubts showed through. After a week or two, Yaqob and Isphet thought to question Raguel closely about her time with him, and she reported that he was distracted, sometimes so distracted he sent her away without using her.
“The night of Gaio’s death he told me to lie on the bed, and I did so. But then he paced to and fro, to and fro, staring out the window at Threshold. He muttered to himself, but I could not catch his words. After some time he turned and jumped, as if startled to see me. He used me, nevertheless, although I think that