moved well past his understanding, as I will explain.”
Lenares felt as though she was about to expire. “Are you the Undying Man? Kannwar of the North? The man my Emperor sought to defeat?” But she knew the answer. The numbers poured through her mind.
The tall man nodded. “At your service,” he said, and held out his hand.
She slapped it away. “You lied to me. I can’t be of any use to people if they keep lying to me! I need truth!”
Red mist swirled in her brain. A small part of her mind spoke. Don’t lose control, they’ll think you’re a lackwit.
“Why can’t people tell the truth!” she screamed.
Her numbers began appearing in her mind, rising into her consciousness, obliterating her sight. She no longer saw nor cared how the others reacted. She was ready to abandon herself to her sea of numbers, to the way the world really was, when someone whispered in her ear.
“Lenares, I love you. Please don’t leave us.”
At his words she fell in a swoon.
“—was all the things you say, and more,” a voice was saying. “You have every right to be horrified. But as I explained, my goodness or evil is not the issue. I’ve been asked to do something important that is also in my own interest, and I have agreed.”
Someone said something Lenares did not catch.
“Proud? Of course I am proud! Knowing that, you should ask why I would tolerate being questioned by people like yourself, having to put up with your suspicion and hatred, when I could wipe you out with a gesture. The Lord of Bhrudwo, suffering the scorn of the ignorant! I am here, hazarding so much, including my empire and even my life, to save you and your world.”
Lenares opened her eyes to darkness and a howling wind. The air on her skin was warm, bringing her out in a sweat.
“Why is there a fire?” she asked, her words coming out as a croak. “It’s too hot for a fire.”
“There is no fire,” said a voice in her ear. His voice. “The wind is warm.”
At his words she relaxed, sank back to the ground and closed her eyes. Let her numbers learn as her ears listened.
“That may be so,” said a Falthan voice. Sauxa. “But I lost an uncle and three older brothers in the Falthan War. My father told me what it was like having to grovel on the road as you and your army rode by. He told me what you did to those who stood up to you. My father himself lost a hand to one of your generals for refusing to draw water like a woman. Destroyed him, it did.” The man’s voice was taut, nothing like the laconic, teasing tone he normally used. “Even if you offered us eternal life,” he finished, “I can see no reason to insult his memory by cooperating with you now.”
“You have it all wrong. Well, actually you have it mostly right. But you are not cooperating with me; I am cooperating with you. Isn’t it your desire to bring down the gods and heal the hole in the world?”
“Aye, but not at the cost—”
“Then I can help you. In fact, I am commanded to assist you by none less than the Most High himself.”
“Makes no odds,” Kilfor said, his voice prickly like the hiss of a cat. “We’re not staying with you. If I thought it would do any good, I’d bury this knife between your shoulders and consider my life well spent.”
“Already been tried.” The voice was weary. “Ask your friend Robal how successful he was at killing me. Ask Stella what the consequences were—ask her whether she misses her arm. Please listen: I’m not defending my actions. You already know as much of my story as anyone alive, and more than I’d care to tell you. By your lights I’m evil, and I’ll not waste your time denying it. But consider this. You’re a farmer, well used to pragmatic decisions: if your hated neighbour died, wouldn’t you use his bullock if he left it to you in his will? Wouldn’t you count every day on the plough behind that animal as a victory? Don’t you see that every day I remain in your service, pulling your plough, is a victory for you? The Most High has had his way with me after all, two thousand years after I first resisted him, and I have had a bare few months to come to terms with the futility