This box was a crude, miniature version of Orso’s classic method of twinning reality—which meant that when she placed the imperiat in the box, its twin also believed it contained the imperiat, as well as the command it was issuing out to the world.
And since this twinned box had been planted nearly a half mile away, beside one of the biggest foundries close to the Dandolo estate, this meant she had just instantly killed the giant lexicon located within it.
There was a quake in the air. Some of the buildings around her shook unpleasantly, and the scrived lamps flickered as if they’d suddenly become confused. She cringed—but, to her relief, nothing failed or fell apart.
She stood and looked across the city, toward the foundry she’d just killed. She couldn’t see the building itself, of course, but she could see the sky above it. And since she’d killed it, she’d also eliminated all of the commands that Crasedes had been feeding into it—including the command for eternal night.
The sky above the foundry suddenly turned lighter, shifting from inky black to a dark purple—as did the sky just beyond it, like the illumination in the skies was extending outward toward the edge of the city in a wave, growing slightly fainter the farther it went.
Like the spokes of a wheel, all gathering at the center here, she thought, turning back to the Dandolo estate. But I just broke one big damned spoke. She took out a rapier. Let’s hope the rest of this goes so well.
* * *
—
The grand ballroom shook strangely, a quiver in the walls and floor that made all the glass from the broken windows tinkle and dance.
Crasedes leaned back from Orso. “What?” he said. “What was that?”
He looked around as the quake grew, and then receded. Then he flitted over to the broken windows and peered out at the city…
…and though Sancia wasn’t sure, she thought she could see the sky lightening faintly out there—still night, just a different time of night.
Crasedes stared at it. Then he slowly turned back to look at her. “What…What have you done?”
“I didn’t do shit,” she said. “But I guess you know where the imperiat is now, yeah?”
He looked back out at the mottled sky. “What is this? What are you doing?”
“Nothing. My ass is still strapped to this goddamn table. But I’m guessing Berenice found a way into the enclave, and she’s running around out there using the imperiat to kill your lexicons. That’s what I’d do. I guess you can either sit in here and watch as she tears your big, distributed rig to pieces, or you can go look for her yourself. Your choice.”
Crasedes stared out at the city for a moment longer. Then, trembling with rage, he pulled Clef out of his cloak.
Yet then he froze. He looked at Sancia over his shoulder. “You…You want me to leave. Don’t you?”
Sancia said nothing.
Crasedes stewed for a moment. Then he took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was tremendously loud. “GREGOR!” he bellowed. “TO ME, TO ME!”
Good, thought Sancia. The next bit’s done.
“Still you defend her,” he spat at Sancia. “Still you make yourself her tool.”
“This has shit-all to do with Valeria,” said Sancia.
“You still have no idea what she is, or…or even what she’s done to you!”
“What do you mean?”
“You think you could become an editor, and there’d be no consequences?” he said. “That the construct could bless you with such powerful permissions, and you’d pay no price? Are you mad, Sancia? Are you stupid?”
Sancia was silent. She heard the sounds of footfalls in the hall outside, and knew Gregor was nearby.
“It takes life to earn the privileges you wield!” said Crasedes. “The blurring of the boundaries between life and death! You always, always pay a price. I had to do a lot of work to prevent them from impacting Gregor—that’s practically why I altered his time in the first place. But for you…”