Authors: Jay Lake
Mainspring (21 page)
“Butâ” Hethor stopped himself. Then: “You sent them, didn't you?”
Malgus' face flickered with the ghost of a smile. “I no more call the winged savages than I can call the storm.”
Hethor gave the Chinese a long, slow look. “You, then? They did not come to me on their own.”
“Who am I to say?” He tipped his head forward. “Enough,” he said. “I neglect my hospitality to you.” He pressed his palms together again. “I am the abbot of the Jade Temple. The esteemed Mister Malgus you already know.” He paused. The silence invited Hethor to speak.
Hethor stopped, took a deep breath. “I am Hethor Jacques, a seaman on Her Imperial Majesty's ship
Bassett
, of late stolen away by those creatures. I began as a clockmaker's apprentice of New Haven, Connecticut. In New England. In America. And I am very thirsty and hungry.”
Bassett
, of late stolen away by those creatures. I began as a clockmaker's apprentice of New Haven, Connecticut. In New England. In America. And I am very thirsty and hungry.”
“I know where Connecticut is,” said the Jade Abbot gently. “And I know what it means to suffer terrible thirst and hunger.” He clapped his hands once, very gently. Hairy men of the same race as those in the orchards outside promptly streamed into the room. Their robes were orange as well, and their hairy feet were bare.
This group brought trays to set before the Jade Abbot, Simeon Malgus, and Hethor, along with great ewers of water, lengths of linen, and a small stool for Hethor to sit upon. They came and went in one lengthy, sinuous movement, as the waves wrapped around the rocks upon the Connecticut beaches. They left only their offerings behind.
Hethor studied his tray for a moment, even as he reached a trembling hand for a ceramic cup of crystal water. There were dates, olives, apricots, along with a seed-covered dark purple fruit he could not name. Little balls of rice with bits of vegetable in them. Flat leaves rolled up around yellow paste. A small bowl of steaming soup that smelled both alien and delicious.
Chinese cooking? Hethor had heard of monkey brains and dog stew and warm plates of slugs. This food was appetizing, almost ordinary even in its unfamiliarity.
Malgus had a similar tray, but the Jade Abbot's held only two dates and a pomegranate. Hethor sipped his water as the Jade Abbot folded his hands again.
“Homage to the Divine, homage to the Spirit, homage to the Community,” said the Abbot. “Blessing on this food and those who made it.”
“Thanks be to God,” Hethor said. He knew a prayer when he heard one, even if it was to some heathen Chinese deity.
For a while he became lost in the flavors on the tray. The fruits were wonderfully fresh, the seed-covered one filled with a tart, fibrous flesh pale as ice. The rice balls were tangy, the soup vinegary and sour and peppery all at once, while the paste within the leaves proved to be an unexpected admixture of bananas and corn. The smells wove with the tastes to settle Hethor's stomach and smooth his sense of self back to something resembling the ordinary.
Hethor finally emerged from the spell of the food to find both the Jade Abbot and Simeon Malgus studying him. The Abbot had not touched his sparse meal. Malgus snacked slowly.
“I'm sorry,” Hethor said, unsure what he was apologizing for.
The Jade Abbot smiled. “Sometimes there is immense pleasure in observing the satisfaction of others.”
“Feel better?” Malgus asked.
Hethor poured out some more water and took a long
drink before answering. “Yes,” he said, “though I expect I should clean my clothes soon.”
drink before answering. “Yes,” he said, “though I expect I should clean my clothes soon.”
Malgus nodded, with the ghost of a wink.
The Jade Abbot smiled. “Now that you are rested and returned to sound mind, how may I help you?”
Hethor studied Malgus for a moment. “What is he doing here? For that matter, what am I doing here?”
The Jade Abbot also stared at Malgus, who cleared his throat and stared briefly at his hands before meeting Hethor's eye.
“As should be clear to you, I am not merely an officer in Her Imperial Majesty's navy.” Malgus sighed. “I took an oath at my commission, which I continue to regard seriously. But I also serve other, higher callings.”
Nothing is higher than this place
, Hethor thought,
save the gears themselves.
, Hethor thought,
save the gears themselves.
Malgus continued. “On the other side of the Equatorial Wall lies the Southern Earth. It is vastly different from our contentious, industrialized Northern Earth. Where we have smoky mills and laboring children and great cities of brick and wood, the Southern Earth has cathedral forests whose dwellers live free of misery, without even the need of labor for their daily fare. Where we have competing empires shaking the very air with the thunder of their cannon, the Southern Earth shakes to the thunder of hooves as great beasts migrate across endless plains. Where England and China each struggle to bend Creation to their will, the Southern Earth abides comfortably in the lap of God's world. As man was meant to do.”
“So you are an agent of the South?”
“No, no.” Malgus shook his head, irritated. “It is not so simple. There is no âSouth,' in the sense that there is a China or an England. There are just races, the hairy men and the fliers among them, who live side by side with men very similar to ourselves. There are animals and forests and oceans untrammeled by steel and flags. If I am an agent, I suppose I am an agent of Creation.” His voice trailed off a moment; then Malgus gave Hethor a
look that was almost haunted. “But yes, it could be said that in part I serve the interests of those who abide in the Southern Earth.”
look that was almost haunted. “But yes, it could be said that in part I serve the interests of those who abide in the Southern Earth.”
Hethor was skeptical, but could not find it in himself to be scandalized. “As well as your oath to the queen?”
“In a practical sense,” said the Jade Abbot in a pleasant voice. “Do not be swift to judgment. Malgus takes counsel with me from time to time. I have certain ⦠counterparts on both sides of the Wall. Every soul has its place in Creation. Some of us are blessed with an occasional glimpse of how those places are fitted together.”
He would find no higher, holier destination than this, Hethor realized. As best he could tell, Malgus had never betrayed his trusts, not directly. Though he supposed Captain Smallwood might see that question quite differently. Nevertheless, the Jade Abbot was a man closer to God than Hethor ever would be.
“So you are holy, and Malgus is worthy. What about me? At least three men died to bring me here. Why?”
“Were you not bound upward already?” the Jade Abbot asked gently.
“I am searching for ⦔ He had been so cautious of his tale, since the disaster at the viceroy's court in Boston. Perhaps it was time to entrust his story to words again. “I met the archangel Gabriel,” Hethor blurted. “He came to me in New Haven with a message. Was he one of those winged savâflyers?”
“Are you a savage?” The Jade Abbot's eyes sparkled with amusement.
“No. Neither do I resemble an angel.”
“There are many races here upon the Wall and in the Southern Earth,” Malgus said. “Different images of God's will, perhaps. But if your angel spoke to you, he was not of the winged folk. Manlike though they are, and of some little intelligence, the fliers do not have the gift of speech. Their blessings lie elsewhere. As do their services.”
“Angels are what you make of them,” the Abbot said.
“Up here in the sky, so close to the gears, we hear the voice of God every day when the track of the world thunders overhead. I have never seen a messenger of Heaven in the flesh, though there are signs aplenty of God's will in the world.”
“Up here in the sky, so close to the gears, we hear the voice of God every day when the track of the world thunders overhead. I have never seen a messenger of Heaven in the flesh, though there are signs aplenty of God's will in the world.”
He leaned forward slightly, communicating a certain eagerness. “If you have truly seen an angel, you are blessed. You would be welcome and more than welcome to remain here in the Jade Temple. You would be a member of our community of spirit, and take part in the nightly Sacrament of Listening.”
“No,” said Hethor, blushing. He had no desire to live here in the thin, cold air among hairy men and walking statues. Even so, the invitation was a balm to him.
Bassett
had been home, however briefly. Before that, Master Bodean's house. Here was another home, freely offered. It was tempting. “I must be free to move on. Gabriel's message was a warning. The Mainspring of the world is running down. I must find the Key Perilous and wind it again.”
Bassett
had been home, however briefly. Before that, Master Bodean's house. Here was another home, freely offered. It was tempting. “I must be free to move on. Gabriel's message was a warning. The Mainspring of the world is running down. I must find the Key Perilous and wind it again.”
Hethor crossed his arms and set his lips, awaiting scorn and worse.
Malgus did not disappoint. The Englishman burst into laughter. “The Key Perilous? You've been reading too many penny dreadfuls, boy. Or drinking belowdecks with entirely the wrong sort of Spiritualists.”
Hethor cringed at the navigator's words.
“Simeon.” The Jade Abbot's voice was a warning.
“I'm sorry, boy,” Malgus said, his tone gentler now. “You were taken in by a mummer or a magic lantern show.”
“Perhaps,” the Jade Abbot said. “But there truly is a Key Perilous.”
Hethor stared at the Abbot, his humiliation forgotten as quickly as it had arrived. Malgus wheezed, as if he struggled to raise objections.
“It is real enough,” the Jade Abbot continued. “Though certainly legendary as well. When your Christ was broken
on the wheel-and-gear of Roman punishment, He left you seven Great Relics. The Key Perilous is one of those.”
on the wheel-and-gear of Roman punishment, He left you seven Great Relics. The Key Perilous is one of those.”
“Where is it?” asked Hethor.
“I do not know.” The Jade Abbot smiled. “But there are those who might. Christ's word has never found favor in the Southern Earth. The Equatorial Wall blocks much besides the guns of Englishmen from crossing over. But the Relics did cross, centuries ago and more. There are wise men in the South who may well know where to find the Key Perilous.
“Whether your vision of Gabriel was false or true I have no way to say. But there is something wrong with our days of late. The gear has slipped, and the Wall shakes like a dog awakening from sleep. You are the first person to bring a theory to my ears that is neither sheer foolishness nor self-serving.”
The Jade Abbot gave Malgus a long look, then turned his small smile back to Hethor. “I feel free to say that Simeon would be pleased to escort you over the Wall and down the other side. There he can help you find and meet with these sages of the Southern Earth who might guide you further in your quest.”
Malgus choked on his water, setting his ceramic mug down as he sprayed the woven mat at his feet. “I have important work afoot in London and Damascus,” he cried. “My contacts in Boston bear fruit, and Iâ”
“Simeon,” the Jade Abbot said again in that quiet voice. “Other men and women will carry your standard a while. This is a chance unplanned for by any of us. We should bow to God's will, even when His hand touches us unlooked for. Especially when you are fit to lead him across and down the other side, and you are here now. There is no coincidence in this world.”
“I will of course bow to your wishes,” Malgus said stiffly, “as you have heard my protests and judged them according to your wisdom. If we are to go this midnight, I must make preparations.” He stood. With a nod to Hethor, he stalked from the room.
“I have to believe this is the right thing,” Hethor said. “But it is so easy for me to doubt.” Was he ready for the Southern Earth? Going beyond the Wall was an irrevocable step.
“When the angel came to you in New Haven,” the Jade Abbot said, “did it give you a map, a compass, instructions to follow?”
“No. Just a warning.”
“So without knowing what the right thing was to do, you found your way here.”
“Yes. Through peril and happenstance.”
And perfidy
, he thought, but this did not seem the time to complain of his ill treatment at the hands of William of Ghent. For one, Hethor had never been certain what if any connection pertained between the sorcerer and Simeon Malgus.
And perfidy
, he thought, but this did not seem the time to complain of his ill treatment at the hands of William of Ghent. For one, Hethor had never been certain what if any connection pertained between the sorcerer and Simeon Malgus.
“It seems to be a great happenstance indeed that you are here. Many hands must have touched your journey. A prayer shared across miles and days. Is this not true?”
Hethor nodded, thinking of Librarian Childress and the viceroy's man Phelps and all the other people who'd helped him. Even Pryce Bodean had advanced his cause, in a peculiar way. It seemed odd that the petty, vengeful divinity student might have been working God's will. Or perhaps they all followed some strange magic from beyond the Wall. Drawn forward by the Key Perilous, as it were.
Even William?
He wondered.
Even William?
He wondered.
“Trust the divine,” the Jade Abbot said, “and you will be rewarded. You have not been wrong so far.”
“Many have died,” Hethor whispered, thinking of the earthquakes and the attacks. “Lost their lives so that I might reach this place.”
“The world winds down. This is the reason for your journey. So their lives would have been lost regardless of your passage, yes?”
“Perhaps.” Hethor felt miserable. “Probably.”
“The account does not lie with you. It was time for their souls to pass onward and follow the wheel once more.”
“Maybe. But I would not like to be the reason for their deaths.” Hethor paused to frame his thoughts. “Still ⦠sir ⦔
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