Page 106 of The Book that Broke the World

“Stop!” Hellet shouted, though whether at Livira or his sister’s creature was unclear. Assistants never shouted but this one had, and in the same moment the ganar-automaton swept him up, grabbing both his legs in one hand. The swing of Hellet’s body sent Kerrol flying backwards, his hands on fire, the orb making a glowing red streak as it spun free.

A heartbeat later the automaton hammered Hellet into the ground like a fisherman might brain his catch upon a rock.

**

“No!” It had been a hundred years since Celcha last saw her brother. A hundred years since he’d failed her. But still she cried out as though his pain was hers, and as he cracked, her heart did too. Had he seen where her vengeance would take her? Had he seen her now on the day he asked her to set it aside? With every ounce of her will Celcha tried to force her avatar to stop. But this day had already happened, and the past has never cared about regrets.

**

Assistants didn’t shout and they didn’t break. This one did both. Where he’d hit the library floor mother-of-pearl blood coated the stone. The automaton brought him crashing down again, this time aimed at Livira. She could see the fist and body descending from on high and knew herself to be the target. It seemed slow, as if she should easily be able to step to one side, and yet somehow, she could not. Instead, she stood stuck between heartbeats, waiting to be turned into a gory paste.

Something tumbled her away at the last instant. The thing turned out to be a person throwing her aside with their own weight and sending her to the floor where the outer curves of the metal fist came close enough to brush against her legs.

Again, the fist shot towards the ceiling, dangling Hellet’s remains and leaving another splat of his strange blood, this time mixed with crimson. Of the person that had saved her there was no sign. Perhaps the scream that came from Leetar’s mouth was a name, but heartbreak made it an incomprehensible howl. Even so, Livira knew it had been Meelan who had knocked her clear.

**

Celcha might have carried the deaths of thousands upon her shoulders for a lifetime rightly or wrongly, but the human that vanished into a welter of her brother’s blood beneath the blow struck by her avatar was so unequivocally her fault that at last the weight of her guilt took her to her knees.

**

The ganar-automaton stamped forward, one huge metal foot crashing down within arm’s reach of Livira’s head. It raised an arm to swing Hellet’s dripping corpse at Evar, still helpless on the ground. The world slowed around Livira once more as she began to sit up. She stretched her arm towards Evar, his name on her lips, frozen in the tragedy of the moment.

Beside Evar, Clovis waited with her useless sword. Starval, moving so quickly as to make even canith look slow, whipped upwards with a broad strip of leather. The oversized slingshot released its stone at the height of its arc, and the still-smouldering orb shot out of Livira’s view.

Hellet’s body smashed down and broke into bloody pieces, missing Evar by a yard. The automaton staggered backwards, its feet crashing to either side of Livira. She turned and saw that fire filled its open mouth, as if the orb had rattled down its throat. Two more backward steps and a muffled detonation shook the automaton from head to foot. It fell slowly, venting white smoke from every joint, and hit the ground with the sudden speed of a rock falling from a great height.

Livira stood unsteadily. The automaton’s steel and brass body blocked the room’s exit and already the smoke was starting to obscure its remains. “Evar!” She began to stumble towards him.

Clovis ran towards their fallen foe, seeking a path past its corpse to reach Arpix. The smoke drove her back, choking. She staggered away, eyes red, and rasped at Livira, “Make sure my brother gets out of here. I have something to do.” So saying, the canith sheathed her sword then advanced, still coughing, on Yute, pushing aside the terrified civilians in her way. “You!” It didn’t look as if covering her blade was an act of peace—rather that she intended to rip the librarian apart with her bare hands. “You...” It seemed no other word could get past her anger. The one who sent the sabbers among her people stood before her. She advanced on the author of her life story, the one who had written in the first line of it that her family would fall beneath invaders’ swords, ending the soft days of her childhood in the space of one bloody hour.

The people Yute had saved from the death of their city scattered before the canith’s wrath, leaving her a clear path. A path into which Wentworth stepped, eyes narrow, tail twitching, teeth bared, showing for once the face that must have been the last thing in life that ten times a thousand rats had seen. Also at least half a dozen cratalacs.

Clovis paused.

Livira fell to her knees at Evar’s side and took his hand in hers. He smiled weakly and she smiled back through her tears. Behind her, Leetar’s sobbing gave voice to her own heartbreak.

Yute spoke, addressing Clovis. “In the past, when the ganar-automata were damaged beyond a certain level, they would explode. Oanold’s predecessors took care to lead them to empty chambers before serious battle. I don’t imagine we have very long before this room fills with jagged pieces of machinery flying faster than stick-shot in all directions.”

“I’ll die with your heart in my hands then,” Clovis snarled.

Yute bowed his head. “My mistakes have caused great harm. But would your time not be better spent getting your brothers to safety?”

“Safety?” Clovis frowned at him through the mist-like smoke. “We’re trapped in here with a bomb.”

Yute stifled a cough. “Lord Irad said we would divide ourselves between three paths. I see three doors leading to three quests.” He pointed to the faintly iridescent pools of Hellet’s blood, the three largest sufficiently big to admit even a canith into whatever worlds lay beyond their surface.

Mayland, who had been leaning almost nonchalantly against the Mechanism, shrugged himself forward and set a hand to Clovis’s shoulder. She flinched beneath his touch.

“Looks like I’m Jaspeth’s pick. Though I’d have torn this place down without him if he didn’t exist.” He took his hand away. “Leave this one to his floundering. He’s been failing for centuries. There’s no worse punishment for his kind. He’d welcome what you want to do to him, believe me.” And with that he went to join Livira, Kerrol, and Starval at Evar’s side. Clovis glanced at his departing back, at Yute, at Wentworth, and then with a snarl she turned to follow him.

Yolanda went to stand by the pool that Leetar knelt weeping beside. “Lord Irad has charged me with representing his cause. Any who wish to bring his true vision into being and replace this”—she waved her arm at the surrounding chaos—“failed experiment in compromise between opposites with something pure and glorious should come with me.”

Yute stood alone by the third pool. He looked at his daughter and seemed suddenly old, the centuries piled upon him. “I’m fluent in more languages than I can count, but in none of them can age speak to youth. I say compromise—you hear weakness and cowardice. I say wisdom—you hear blinkered thinking, you see me hidebound, afraid of change. I say that the solutions will be messy, unsatisfying, and may leave both sides feeling dirty. You hear the call of distant trumpets; you see the vision of a future glittering on some high hill, raised above the murky swirl of warring faiths.”

“Are you trying to get us all killed?” Yolanda returned the ache of his gaze with a cold glance. “Go. Let’s not stand here talking until we die.” And with that she stepped into the glimmer of Hellet’s blood and was gone.

Clovis bent to take Evar with her through the pool Mayland had chosen. Livira glared up at her, tightening her grip on Evar.

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