The throbbing between Lapis’s temples grew in tandem with the loudness of the rats. The bitter night’s frozen bite had brought more than the reading circle to the Eaves, and since regulars decided to remain indoors rather than trek to the tavern, they had retrieved friends and spread out.
Dachs clunked a mug in front of her. She squinted up at him, and he nodded at the deep brown liquid. “That’ll help.”
Did she look like she needed a strong drink?
The barkeep hovered as she tasted the mixture, nearly gagged on the alcohol burn, but dutifully drank the rest. Before she finished gulping, her headache slowed to a light pounding.
“That does help,” she admitted, handing the mug back, concerned at the quick response.
“I already had some,” he said. “My granna used to make somethin’ like it, only with numble leaf.”
Lapis raised her eyebrows. “That must have been a potent relaxer.” She had found more than one stake passed out, drooling, from drinking the numble liqueur. Paying for a wagon to cart their limp asses to the guardhouses annoyed her, and made her small pay even smaller.
“Fresh numble leaf puts you under. She had several plants, and made tea from the leaves so she could sleep through the aches of being old.” He carted the mug back to the counter. A blast of freezing air shot through the room; he looked at the door and grinned. “Welcome back!” he bellowed.
She wondered at his cheer, as Rik stomped his snow-laden boots on the sopping rug at the door. Behind him came Jhor, who looked like he needed a bit of the stuff Dachs gave her.
“Knew you’d be down here,” Rik said, grinning at her as he tugged off his outer mittens, then his inner gloves. “Look who I brought!”
“So I see.”
“There’s no reason to let someone I know tromp further in this cold than they have to.” The courier slid onto a stool next to Shoose, who breathed in more of the hot meal than she ate. “Megan didn’t want to be out in it, either, so went ahead and put her up. It’s not like there’s much cargo to haul right now.”
“The air has teeth tonight,” she agreed. Jhor plopped down across from her, sending a chill breeze wafting over the table. He grinned at her shudder, though not with the humor he usually held.
“I’m expecting business to be sparse, these next few days,” Rik continued.
“You need a break,” Shoose said, then cupped her hand around her mouth. “Hey Dalia! Late meal for Rik!” A reply Lapis did not understand came from the kitchen. Dani peeked out, noted the courier, then the modder.
“Need anythin’, Jhor?” Dachs asked.
“He gave me some nice drink that soothed my headache,” Lapis said. “You look like you need it.”
“I’ll take that, then.” Jhor rubbed at his temple, laughing. “And whatever meal’s being served.”
“Biscuits with butter and jam, meat with gravy,” Dani told him. “We’ll even give you tea. Hearty and warm.”
“I could use warm,” Rik declared, and the tavern custom murmured assent.
“Warm cup in cold hands sounds good,” Jhor said with a charming smile. Lapis raised an eyebrow at him, which he shrugged at. Had something happened at the House, or had he needed to get out?
“Everything’s OK?” she asked in a soft voice.
“As OK as it can be right now,” he murmured, rubbing at his face. “I’m just tired, and I’m not getting rest at the House. The khentauree are upset, and I can’t blame them, but sifting through the head of an injured one is like tiptoeing through prickle plants. It takes time, especially with the equipment I have access to here.” Dachs settled the drink on the table, and Lapis slid over so the barkeep could sit next to her. He plopped down with a relieved sigh; it was not like he had a brimming crowd to entertain that night.
Jhor sipped the concoction, coughed, and downed the rest in one gulp. His wince did a wrinkled page proud, and he shook his head before rubbing his eyes. “Remind me to ask after the ingredients next time you offer a strange drink,” he wheezed.
“Headache’s goin’, though, isn’t it?” Dachs asked with more merriment than Lapis thought warranted.
He paused, then nodded. “Yeah.” He sucked in a breath, then sagged. “I need a de-stresser. Worried khentauree can be harsh khentauree.”
Like Tuft? Her warring thoughts slammed into each other and burst apart in a spray of confusion. At the Shivers, the icy khentauree had not been nice, warm, or understanding. Harsh described his mannerisms and actions. But his care with her the night before held a gentle warmth at odds with his previous behavior. He had sat with her until morning, and she woke with him holding her hand. She had nightmares, but he hummed a soft, calming tune, a song she had never heard but one which pierced her heart and spread her ragged emotions out to dry.
That’s how Patch found them. He asked no questions, just plunked his empty wake juice jug on the end table, curled up with her on the couch, and immediately began to snore. She did not appreciate the quickness in which he fell into slumber, especially after the amount of wake juice he imbibed, and Tuft’s amusement at her disgust confused her as well.
She leaned forward on her elbows and clasped her hands together. “Jhor, would you mind, answering a question about the khentauree?” Why not ask, when she had him semi to herself?
He shook his head, set his elbow on the table, and propped his cheek up with his hand, a half-smile playing at his lips. “I can try. The khentauree are still as much of a mystery to me as the day I met Sanna.”
“How did you meet?” Dachs asked. Not what she planned to ask, but a reasonable question.
“I was looking for an appropriate room in the Caast mine to serve as a base for my Gedaavik research searches. I stumbled upon a hangar with chassis and other parts, and discovered a room that must have once been an office. It had enough space to house the equipment I wanted to bring in, and satisfied, I turned around and nearly died from a fear-induced heart attack. Sanna stood in the doorway, staring, her forehead whirling, still as a statue. So I said hi.”
“You’re brave,” Lapis said, aware the rats had quieted somewhat to hear the tale.
“I didn’t feel brave, and considering what was running down my leg, I didn’t look brave, either.”
The rats made ick faces and Dachs chuckled. “Can’t imagine meeting one in the dark like that, without knowing they existed.”
“I’d believe in ghosts, if I met Ghost or Tuft in a dark mine room,” Gabby told them, eyes wide. “Especially if they glowed!”
“That’s how I met Tuft,” Lapis said. That impressed the rats, but stumbling upon a khentauree when she knew they existed, and Jhor encountering Sanna for the first time without that knowledge, were vastly different experiences.
“Well, all I had was a handheld light and a notebook, so the room was definitely dark and spooky. Check two, because I thought all the Taangin mechanical beings had ceased operations centuries ago, so she could have been a ghost.” He held up his hands, palm out. “I showed her what I carried so she could see I meant no harm, and asked who she was in Lyddisian. She didn’t respond, so I asked the same thing in Jilvaynan. She didn’t answer, just asked why I was there. So I told her I was researching better ways to help those with physical disabilities and my previous research on a man named Gedaavik led me to the mines.
“She didn’t trust me, and I wasn’t certain what to make of her. I had read old accounts of mechanical beings, but facing a working machine who survived the ages?” He cleared his throat and lowered his hands. “Sanna, in a mood, will intimidate the bark off a tree.”
“I think Sanna’s nice,” Gabby declared, stretching her arms out over the large book she read and curling her fingers over the top of the pages.
“She’s been checking on Lykas,” Scand said. “Lady Thais taught her how to check on his rib, and she can look inside and see the crack.” He ran his finger along his right-side ribcage. “She’s pushy about him taking medicine, too.”
“She knows he needs it.” Jhor dangled his arm over the back of his chair and studied the rat. “And it’s easier for her to push and get results than to have Jandra do it. She’s a bit more coercive when she’s firm.”
The tavern raised glasses to that, even though most of them only knew Path, not Sanna.
“I’m surprised they still function, let alone scold rats into drinkin’ their meds,” Dachs said.
“They seem like story characters come to life,” Rik agreed. Shoose hummed in agreement as she breathed in the steam rising from her meal.
“I’m sure random adventurers nosing about thought so when a cyan beam struck the rock at their feet and they fled. Getting away from Ghost, Sanna or Chiddle is not a fun way to spend one’s time.” He laughed. “Scared or not, I was bold in my curiosity. I asked Sanna how she still existed despite the years. She told me the earth did not rhyme with the sky, but both carried on. I should have realized then, how much of a poet she was, but I didn’t think machines understood emotions. I thought they mimicked us.”
“I think khentauree have emotions,” Gabby piped up.
“Me too,” Brone and Scand said in unison.
Jhor nodded, smiling at the kids. “It’s hard to see them as cold, heartless machines. At least, the ones you’ve met. Path is quite the extrovert. Not all follow her lead.”
“Ghost and Sanna and Chiddle are nice,” Brone said. The rats nodded in solemn agreement. “Ghost even invited us to his pool after the snow melts so we can see them perform their dance rituals.”
“That’s a rare offer and shows how much they adore you lot. But not all are as outgoing and personable. Some, like Duxe, prefer to hide. Considering the trouble the markweza and Caardinva brought to them, that was a wise decision.”
“Humans have different personalities,” Gabby said. “So they’re like us.”
“For the khentauree that ran Gedaavik’s special code, yes, they’re like us. For the others? At the Ambercaast mines, the ones who lacked that program didn’t have the same capacity to understand human behavior, let alone emulate it. They went to silence after the humans left, and that was that. Most who remained had grown beyond their primary programming and swam through strange waters. Not all khentauree are like Ambercaast ones, though. The Cloisters and the Shivers mine had more who followed centuries-old commands and did nothing else. The ones we faced at Torc Bedan had not grown beyond military orders, either.”
Lapis shivered at that. She did not like the thought of the military khentauree reaching southern Jilvayna and causing problems for settlements who had no way to fight back. “So you don’t think they just mimic humans.”
“No. I’m not saying they think and feel like we do, but there is something that differentiates them from typical machines, and it isn’t mimicry. Sanna’s been more forthcoming about her changes since we visited the Shivers, intimated a few things I guessed at but now have confirmation of.”
“She’s attached to you.”
“You noticed?” He chuckled. “I can’t picture life without her peering over my shoulder in curiosity, giving advice, and making stressful situations bearable through odd poetry. I didn’t expect that when I entered the Caast mine searching for answers about modding damaged bodies.”
The rats had more questions, and Lapis let them pester Jhor; she could wait until things settled to dive into hers.
By the time food came, Jhor looked ready for a bit of peace. He quietly thanked Dani before devouring the meal. The rats returned to their books and discussions, and the regulars returned to their warm drinks and conversations. Dachs retreated to the kitchen, brought a tea kettle and three cups, and Lapis appreciated having a warm drink to hold and savor.
“I have a question, a bit more specialized,” she said, leaning over her tea, her words low enough she hoped the rats did not hear. “It’s about Tuft.”
Jhor waved his fork at her to proceed before devouring the meat. When was the last time he ate? Maybe she should suggest he get seconds, considering how fast he shoved the food into his mouth; Dalia was not a Night Market cook, but her meals were tasty.
“So you know how he iced me and Linz and the scientists into a room in the Shivers. Without Heven breaking it with her back hooves, we wouldn’t have made it out. We would have frozen to death.”
Dachs’s eyebrows shot high onto his forehead as Jhor shook his head at her. “I think you underestimate your drive and ability to solve problems,” the modder said.
“Maybe. Because of that, though, and because of the Cloister’s gossip concerning him and Luthier, I didn’t see him as nice, but violent and vicious. And he unhooked Maphezet Kez. If he did that before he naturally died, well . . .” She looked down into her tea rather than into Jhor’s eyes. He must have caught her hitch of breath because compassion and concern wrinkled his face, and she did not want sympathy, but answers. “When we were running back to the vehicles from Torc Bedan, I wanted to know why he asked me to help him. He could have distracted the khentauree and soldiers by himself, and probably done a better job. He said he doesn’t like to be alone.
“And last night, he stayed with me in the parlor when I fell asleep. I had nightmares, and he hummed a song to me to calm me down. He even held my hand. After the Shivers, I don’t want to trust him. But—”
Jhor smiled as he cut the biscuits into bite-sized bits. “Some of their behavior seems odd to us,” he agreed. “I have guesses about that, and maybe I can pry something out of Sanna.” He chewed while he nodded to himself, then glanced at Dachs before concentrating on her. “As far as I can tell, there are khentauree who did not receive Gedaavik’s code, those that did, and those who received an additional, special code. The additional code allowed those who ran it to ‘grow’ faster, but all khentauree who implemented his initial program became more . . . human, I guess. I don’t know if that was the intent, but those with his code increasingly viewed the world in a different way than those who lacked it. They saw beauty and ugliness, joy and heartache, in life. They formed attachments to objects, other khentauree, and people. Realizing a vast, exciting world existed outside their sheltered home prompted them to expand their knowledge, even if that meant defying their human owners to acquire it.
“The special ones discovered they could do things others could not—like Ghost manipulating his sprites. They hid those talents because they knew the owners would send them to silence if they found out, and cautioned all khentauree with the code to keep quiet. Taangis left, others not so wed to strict control took over the mines, and khentauree had more freedom. When Dentheria destroyed Ambercaast, the khentauree inherited an environment in which they could develop in peace, without fear of retribution.
“And that brought a problem. Gedaavik’s khentauree experienced love, joy, resentment, hate, and numerous more emotions, feelings, beliefs. They discovered they didn’t know how to handle them.
“Now, the Ambercaast khentauree were lucky, because they could speak with the terrons about these things. They learned to navigate their emotions, and how to express themselves better, by developing those friendships and asking questions.”
“I thought the terrons and the khentauree didn’t associate after Dentheria killed the mine owners,” Lapis said, frowning. She did not mistake the shock and terror when the mechanical beings invaded the cave where they grew their crops.
“Ghinka withdrew and forbade contact, that’s true, but the Hollows didn’t. Vali and Nathala didn’t see a need to separate the communities, and that’s why the attack you withstood shocked them. The Hollows knew how many khentauree lived beneath the pool. They knew the Meergevens must have reactivated the ones they faced, and when the populations discovered Ghinka had an agreement with Gredy and the markweza, they assumed she knew about the reactivations but didn’t warn anyone. Nathala’s leadership fight was as much a response to that as it was a chastisement against Ghinka for poor governance.” He whirled his fork in the air. “There’s a lot more resentment and suspicion swirling in those loyal to Ghinka than you might think. It’s going to cause problems, and I hope Nathala realizes it.”
Lapis assumed threats motivated Ghinka, but having witnessed terrons in battle, she did not think the lizards were as vulnerable as humans might assume, especially when it came to tech weapons. Secrets, on both the khentauree and terron sides, had bit them when they faced an external, motivated threat.
“Up until the Meergevens, the Hollows and the khentauree had friendly contact. The Shivers and Cloister khentauree did not have a similar opportunity to interact with living beings; humans were the enemy, and there was no one else. Tuft and Vision disappeared while the others suffered under Kez and his people until the Taangis Empire fell. That bred distrust and jealousy among them, and the ensuing years did not heal emotional wounds, but exacerbated them.
“Basically, the khentauree had no idea how to handle themselves and their new existence, and the ways they attempted to make sense of things often harmed rather than helped. Hundreds of years later, nasty humans with nasty desires arrived, and they had to navigate around people who only saw them as machines, an exploitable resource to break apart and research at will.
“That didn’t improve their views on human behavior. But then a small, intrepid group of rebels infiltrated their home, not to harm or study them, but to help them. At least, that’s how Vision looks at things. She said the Cloister khentauree who follow her rather than Luveth see you, Patch, and Linz as saviors because you unhooked Ree-god.” He waved his hand before taking another bite and washing it down with tea. “Take that for what it’s worth, coming from her.”
“Even if we don’t think her visions are real, she does,” Lapis said.
“So does the Cloister population. When Heven or Spring aren’t guarding everything they say, they speak with awe about her fortunetelling. Anyway, my point is, the khentauree had opportunities to interact with people who respected their opinions, who listened to them and helped against the bad humans—quite opposite previous interactions. You, especially, have a special place in their thoughts because you helped Dreamer download into a new chassis, despite how he treated you.”
She had not helped. She let experienced others take the lead.
“But what made the greatest impression was you risking your life to help humans you did not know who, in the end, betrayed you. Convoluted emotions rose. Vision seemed better prepared to handle them, but Tuft was not. So he latched onto the one he felt could help him grasp what was going on inside him—you.”
“Me?” She gaped at Jhor, stunned. He mistook many things, to make that statement.
“I had the same reaction when I realized it about Sanna. Khentauree want to bond with someone who understands their turmoil. It’s a kinship experience they can’t share with mechanical beings who don’t have the code and, as in the Shivers case, distrust and resentment corroded relationships to the point friendliness was unthinkable. Tuft is further along his journey than, say, Luveth or Dreamer, and he’s been alone for most of it. I’m sure Vision did what she could, but he needed someone beyond her to help him interpret how he felt—and right now, that’s you. You, after all, saw the need to unhook Ree-god, just like he saw the need to unhook Kez.”
Was that why Tuft kept referring to that act? “Then why did he ice me into a room?”
Jhor chuckled. “I don’t think he wanted to hurt you. He protected you in the only way he could, by blocking access to the room. I’m not sure it occurred to him that humans might not survive the ice like khentauree, but he knows now.”
Considering how many mercs he froze to death, he should. Lapis’s thoughts spiraled down in sizzling shock. Yes, she wanted his opinion, but she never anticipated his words. Tuft, liking her enough to latch onto her like Sanna latched onto Jhor? Whatever gave him the impression Tuft saw her in that way?
Dachs sipped his tea, deep in thought. “I can see that,” he murmured. “As children, we learn from our elders how to act and behave. The khentauree only had Gedaavik as a role model, but considerin’ how long they’ve existed, he was only alive for a small part of that. After he died, they had to figure out everythin’ on their own.”
“They had him, but didn’t see much of him,” Jhor said. “While he visited the mines across Theyndora, he never stayed long except at Ambercaast. He couldn’t.”
Lapis blinked back tears. Maybe that explained Dreamer’s reactions, more so than him being a self-motivated, violent ass. Maybe that explained Luveth’s insistence on following the worship program humans installed. It provided stability, consistency, and did not rely on churning thoughts they struggled to comprehend.
Her luck, she had Patch’s support after her family died. And Rin. And the rats. She had never been as alone as the khentauree, and while she fought loneliness in Jiy before her partner moved in, it was not the same as spending centuries with only one’s thoughts as company.
“I know, it’s a lot to think about,” Jhor said as he finished his meal. “Believe me, I’ve spent years pondering whether they’re alive, whether they feel things, whether that affected how they treated me, because of a special code Gedaavik developed. I’ve wondered how he chose the khentauree to receive it. I’m betting they already showed signs of breaking free of their original programming, and he sped up the process. That’s just a guess, as I don’t have his diaries, just his code—a code, I might add, that is different in each of the khentauree who received it. When they grow, they grow in unique ways, and the code reflects that.” He set the strainer in his cup and poured water over the loose leaves. “There’s so much I don’t understand, but I’ve decided that I care enough about Sanna, it doesn’t matter. I’ll accompany her on her journey, and we’ll see where it leads us.”
“So why me? Why not Patch, or Linz? They’re the ones who helped Chiddle disconnect Ree-god from the console.”
“Why are you and Rin so close?” Jhor asked. “The bonds between you and the other rats are obvious, but there’s a specialness between you two that rises above. It may be intangible, but it’s there.”
She had nothing to add to that. “I have more questions, but there’s one I keep thinking about. Are there khentauree children?”
Dachs looked surprised, Jhor humorously annoyed as he dumped the leaves out of the strainer and took a sip of the fresh tea. “I don’t know. I’ve asked Sanna about it, and she shuts up. They might have blanks they program with Gedaavik’s code. I haven’t met one, if so. The community of khentauree at the Caast mine hide in the chamber only accessed by Ghost’s pool, so maybe they have new ones down there. If you’re concerned about maintaining your population, that makes sense, though I’ve never gotten that impression from the khentauree I’ve dealt with.” He pursed his lips before blowing on the steaming drink. “There is something there, though. They mention children too often for it to be a meaningless idea.”
Dachs sighed, shaking his head in wonder. “I’d never have dreamed, livin’ through such extraordinary times. Mechanical beings from the past showin’ up, terrons, weird cults and the destruction of an empire.” He rubbed at his chest, and Lapis understood the uncomfortable apprehension underlying the motion. “I never believed in Stars’ luck. Seemed a bunch of nonsense spewed by the pious to excuse their cruelty. But this fits right in.”
Jhor chuckled and she grumbled. If she once had any, she had used it all up before the current troubles. What her life had become was far beyond the brief detour she expected when the Blue Council arrived in Jiy. Nothing would remain the same, and she dreaded the coming days would prove her more than right.
But that did not mean she could not provide a bit of nice, first.
The front door slammed open and icy wind tore through the tavern, causing the lamps to spit. Everyone jumped, and attention riveted to the three men bundled up in dark green woolen coats, the color of the palace guard uniforms.
“How many times do I have to tell you, curfew’s on?” the front man seethed.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t care?” Dachs grumbled as he rose.
“You lot!” the front man shouted, pointing at the silent rats, then thrusting his arm wide. “Get back to your cubbies.”
“They’re coming upstairs with me.”
The guard’s eye twitched as Lapis set her palms on the table and stood. “What did you say?”
“I said the rats are coming upstairs with me. It’s freezing out, and it’s warmer in my room than in their cubbies.” She leaned over the table, meeting his fury with her own. “What kind of man tells children to go outside and freeze?”
The entire tavern quieted. The reaction startled her. How did she sound, to make those who knew her stare in shock? It was not because she faced guardsmen from the palace, was it?
“They aren’t children.”
“They are children.” She looked at the rats and jerked her head; they cleared out as quick as a sneeze.
“Who are you?” the man growled, taking one more step inside.
“Lady Lanth, the chaser who teaches street rats to read.” She slid out from the bench, folded her arms, planted her feet, and blocked the way to the stairs. The customers finished their meals, drank their dregs, and slowly pulled on coats and gloves. They pushed past the three standing inconveniently in the doorway. The front man grimaced and stepped aside, and when the last one but for Jhor meandered out, slammed the door shut behind them.
“This is your final warning,” he snarled at Dachs. He shook, but whether from anger or cold, Lapis could not tell.
Dachs sullenly returned the glower, and the three vacated, leaving the portal wide open. Grumbling, he closed the door and Dani and Dalia hustled to pull down shades. Shades? Who installed those? He dimmed the lighting as Lapis felt two hands on her shoulders. She glanced at Rik, who grinned and winked. She moved aside for the rest of them to enter from the back and reclaim their seats.
“Stupid shanks,” Dachs grumbled. “Thinkin’ they can waltz on into my tavern and tell me what to do.”
The rats drifted downstairs, still clutching their books, peering around, and the barkeep eyed them.
“Keep it down,” he advised. “Least until they’ve gone on to bully someone else.”
All in hand, it seemed. She sat down, Jhor winked at her, and she deflated as the custom ordered more drinks.
She could not wait until the palace no longer posed a threat.