She had no eyes, but somehow she looked deeply into his eyes. “Then you did the utterly unthinkable. You promised to free us. We do not know if you can do this, because you do not know if you can do this. But one thing we do know. We have the means in our own hands now to flee with your people into a place where the Emperor will have to work very hard to reach us. And for as long as we can stay out of his reach, we will be freer than we have been since we entered this accursed trap.”
Scullen looked at him, the cynicism gone from her eyes. “You did that?”
Kordas nodded. “Yes . . .”
“You’re an idiot,” Scullen stated. “But you’re brave, and you’re compassionate, and I’ve never seen that here in the Capital in my entire life. I thought both things were extinct in the Empire.” She stood there silently for a moment. “By all the gods big and small . . . now you give me hope.”
He tried to stop himself. He really did. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t. Besides, he was going to take the Dolls with him when he fled, but how much good would that do if he didn’t eliminate the means by which they were being made?
He turned to Star. “Will alarms go off if we free them?” he asked. And Scullen’s eyes widened with shock.
“This is where things are put to be secure and forgotten. In the Palace, nobody cares how things are made, or by whom. They only want the result. If there was an alarm, whoever created it is probably long dead.” Star paused. “This one is compelled to tell you that this one does not know. But it is true that all things here are made by Dolls and serviced by Dolls. No Dolls have ever seen this room being scryed, and no Dolls have seen a human visit or work here in a very long time.”
What’s that old saying? “If you’re going to be killed for stealing, you might as well be killed for stealing a horse rather than a dog.”
But—wait—
“If this thing was broken, could it be fixed?” he asked. “I mean, if the Trapping and Doll-making is going to be able to be started up again—” Can I figure out a way to keep that from happening?
Now all of the dissidents were hanging on the chainlink, breathlessly staring at him, some in disbelief, some in desperation, but the rest with growing hope in their eyes.
Star went rigid, consulting with the rest of her kind. “We . . . think not. There are only two Innovator mages left. Until three years ago, there were four, but their laboratories collapsed, and they were felled by debris. And the two that are left are not the two who worked on the Trap and the Dolls.”
“So . . . if we break the Trap, we free those of you who are already caught,” Kordas said slowly. “And if we break the prison and free the bait, there won’t be any reason for vrondi to be attracted here, and those that are freed to flee can warn the rest of your kind. That will at least buy you time to get out of range of another Trap and never return. Right?”
“But what if the Emperor figures out some other Elementals—” Beltran began.
“Stop!” Kordas begged. “Just stop! I’ve already made more promises than I think I can keep! I won’t be able to do anything if you keep trying to think of more things I should be doing! I’m not superhuman! I’m one man with bigger ideas than he can pull off alone, more scared every day, and only my friends old and new to save me. To save me while I save others. I know it can all be done, but it just keeps getting more dangerous. And anyone I can’t save, I’ll have killed them by failing them.”
Beltran’s mouth fell open in shock for a moment at his vehemence. Then he closed it, and slowly nodded, blushing a little with embarrassment.
The discussion lasted most of a candlemark without a single warning from Star that they were being watched. So Star was right. No one was scrying this place. No one cared what happened here. People lived, and probably died here, and no one cared except to drag away bodies or shove more people in the cage. And probably the dissidents weren’t at all amusing to watch. After all, even if someone had a personal enemy in here, Kordas had the impression that such passive revenge was nothing like bloody enough for the rapacious weasels that inhabited the Court.
“All right,” he said. “Star, leave the Curiosity Trap off. I want the Dolls to start bringing packs and supplies down here for the people in the cage. Travel food, some extra clothing, bedrolls, water bottles. And a good warm coat or cloak, and boots for all of them. If—when—they reach the refuge, they are going to need all of those things. It’s only until next moon until the Regatta—” Now he looked directly at the people behind that chainlink fence. “Can you bear to stay here for a couple more days? Because our best chance of getting everyone free is to stage everything at once. The last of my people are going to the refuge during the Regatta. The Dolls are all going then. Your best chance of getting out is to leave then, too.”
Scullen spoke for them all. “We can manage,” she said fiercely.
“And you,” he turned to Star. “Before those of you here leave, can you break the Trap and open the cage, and take these people with you? You promised to bring the hostages. Will you bring these people too?”
“We will,” Star said immediately. “It adds very little complication to what was already planned. We have already begun stepping up production of provisions.”
“When would the best time to go be?” he asked.
“When the Emperor leaves to view the Regatta,” Star told them. “That will be no sooner than noon and no later than afternoon. Once he is seated in his chariot, he will no longer require Doll attendants, and he will dismiss us.”
“Then that will be the signal,” he told them all. “When the Emperor is in his chariot—we run for the Gates. You break this place, you each grab a prisoner or a hostage, and you run for the Gates. You’ll have your talismans. This all needs to happen at once, so nobody who would oppose it can coordinate a defense. And hopefully—” he looked at Beltran “—hopefully my Herald and I will be right behind you.”
* * *
—
Kordas certainly hadn’t planned this diversion, and after seeing the Trap and the bait in it, he really hadn’t wanted it, but it seemed important to Star that he speak with the Record Keeper, and if it was important to Star, it was obviously important to all the Dolls. So the two of them stepped through another of the many Gates that seemed only used by Dolls, as Star said aloud, “The Office of Records.” They emerged in the strangest—room?—Kordas had ever seen in his life.
It was not strange enough to cool his anger, but it was strange enough that it got his attention through his anger.
At the very front of the room was a Doll: faceless, as usual, but with much more of a suggestion of features sculpted into the front of its head than the rest of them had. It sat at a desk facing the Gate; there were some stacked papers to one side of the desk, and what looked like a series of seals lined up neatly, fitted into a wooden holder, at the front of the desk. Yarn, dyed long ago and now a faded gray, had been fastened to its head in place of hair or a wig, and tied back into a tail at the back of its head. It was fully clothed, as far as Kordas could tell, in a shirt, breeches, and shoes, with the Imperial tabard over all.