I opened my eyes again as soon as I could trust the curve was safely behind us. As I expected, now I could look down into the tops of even the tallest trees. That was worth getting past the curve.

  The new sights were so captivating, I don't know what made me turn to the left, to the mountain wall. It's not as if I'd expected to see anything other than sheer rock. Maybe I wanted to know how close we'd gotten to the top. The mountain was even more imposing from up close, as you'd expect, but that wasn't all. There were carvings all over it, abstract figures with incredibly straight lines. I couldn't even draw something like that with a pencil and paper, so the idea of painstakingly chiseling it in the mountain wall made me shudder. Those forms reached almost all the way to the top, and though moss had spread over them, they looked in good shape.

  This was the eastern face of the tepuy. Maybe the people leaving for I Lesecani got to see those carvings. Maybe the angle was wrong. Maybe the treetops rose high enough to hide the carvings out of sight.

  Had anybody gotten to admire the handiwork of the Khachimik carvers in the st few centuries? Somebody had to. I couldn't believe nobody had. But I had to admit it wasn't likely many people did. Valentino hadn't even mentioned the carvings. You probably couldn't see them from the other tepuy either.

  This time, I didn't wonder why I felt nostalgic.

  The first thing we glimpsed of the city was a spindly blue-green spire, soon crowded out of the sky by many homely chimneys of gunmetal steel. Some of them spewed clouds of vapor, but many more were quiet. One turn left and we left the ramp behind, climbing into the pteau and entering the city's industrial outskirts, a solid block of factories and warehouses covering enough ground for a few Omeduras. Some vomited their hangover on the river flowing west—many others had chained-up gates and boarded-up windows.

  Well, well. Whatever anybody tried to cim ter, the strikes still went on.

  "Please hold on tight, Your Excellency."

  I did. Valentino's motorcycle shuddered and stopped. Over his shoulder, I counted eight guards blocking our way.

  Valentino stood up, making sure to put himself between the guards and me. I didn't really disagree with the feeling, but it unnerved me that a Sabrewing, of all people, would feel wary about them. Especially because he hadn't been wrong so far.

  "Is anything the matter, officers?" he asked.

  The guard in front adjusted his cap—of course he didn't get a feather. "You'll have to show me an identification."

  I remained where I was, a drop of sweat making its slow way down my back. We learn that as kids—don't talk back to guards, tell them what they wanna hear, roll with the punches, only fight back if they're gonna kill you. Valentino could handle them better than me.

  As for the man himself, he'd removed his helmet so that the other guards could get a good look at him. "I'm Sergeant First Css Valentino Vargas. The mission that occupies me has been assigned by Her Magnificence in person. We must reach the airport posthaste."

  The guard in chief crossed his arms, craning his neck to get a better look at me. He was about fifteen years older than Valentino and probably had never been as athletic. But of course that didn't mean much. We didn't even know what kind of spells he could do.

  "Why didn't you take the shuttle?" the guard asked.

  Valentino didn't turn around. "His Excellency wanted to take the Emperor's Path and see the scenery. Is that not allowed? We saw nothing to forbid it."

  Several of the other guards stretched out their necks, too. Looked like they thought I was hiding the real His Excellency in my pocket.

  The chief turned a skeptical look to Valentino. "See, I don't know who His Excellency is supposed to be. What I know is there's no reason to skip past a free ride, unless you don't want to be seen by the w. Or unless you want to go lookin' somewhere folks ought not to go lookin'."

  Well, he wasn't wrong. I'd taken the scenic route in the hopes of seeing more of the city than Cassel and his cronies wanted me to see. He had no way to prove it, though, and I'd never admit it.

  Valentino removed his left glove. The green arrow-bird glowed in his the back of his hand. "Now you see your accusations were unfounded."

  "You seem to be mistaken." The guard in chief spoke as if to a small kid. "We have a duty to protect this city as best we see fit."

  My stomach sank even more. I'd never heard of a Sabrewing being dismissed so easily by a common guard. I didn't think it was possible.

  "You'll do that by allowing me to fulfill my escort mission without interference."

  "I still don't know who this person is supposed to be."

  "I answer to Her Magnificence and Their Excellencies, not you. May I see your identification?"

  The other guard frowned. "You think you're funny?"

  "How am I supposed to know you're who you cim to be? True servants of Her Magnificence wouldn't prevent her orders from being fulfilled."

  All of the other guards tensed, ready to fling spells at him—no, at us. Of course they were the real thing, and Valentino knew it perfectly. Guards take fast offense to many things, especially someone who questions their right to do whatever they want to.

  "As I'm not threatening the peace or breaking any ws simply by driving through a public street," Valentino went on, "I shall continue escorting His Excellency to his chosen destination."

  He turned on his heel, but before he could walk the single step separating him from the motorbike, the ground shook under our feet. Merely a warning. In a crowded street, I might not even have noticed.

  Valentino only looked over his shoulder. "And impeding Her Magnificence's orders constitutes treason, as I think you know."

  When I truly needed a hole to fall into, I couldn't see any! As Valentino showed no signs of backing down, the guards looked ready to come to spells. Well, he'd protected me six against one when the Tekitekis attacked. I might as well help him back now that he faced eight-to-one odds.

  I stood up, unrushed, as if there was nothing wrong other than a small misunderstanding. "Please, Sergeant Vargas, allow me." I fished the Megarchon's letter out of my bundle and handed it to the chief guard. "I'm Azul Mamani."

  He scanned the letter. "Kind of a girly name."

  "Yeah." What, was he going to accuse me of impersonating myself? That was deranged enough that, at this point, I was ready to accept it.

  "Why would Her Magnificence summon you?"

  "It's not my pce to specute."

  The guard tapped the letter against his hand. Maybe he'd accuse me of forgery instead.

  The time for emergency measures had come.

  I fixed the guard with the best scathing gre I could muster—probably not that great, to be honest—and rolled my left sleeves up.

  The silver snake licked the air specutively. The way that guard reacted, though, you'd think it had tried to bite him. A part of me was horrified at what I'd just done—intentionally arming a guard was simply not done, not ever!—but I couldn't deny how satisfying it felt. It was almost disappointing to hide the snake bracelet again.

  "I'm her great-grandson. Look it up if you don't believe me. May I have my letter again?" I stretched out my hand.

  Valentino gred at the guards down his beaky nose. Either he was ready to fight all of them at once, or he could bluff as good as Vanth.

  The other guard returned the letter without looking me in the eye. "See that yellow rope?"

  I looked around. Someone'd done their best to surround the factory with a rope dipped in yellow paint. It didn't go all the way 'round, but you got the idea.

  The factory was also barricaded far more efficiently with sawhorses and steel drums—from the inside. I wanted to wave in case anybody was looking, but that'd get me arrested on the spot.

  "Sure do."

  "If you see it again, just turn around and leave. Actually, you'll enjoy your stay much more if you don't stray from the nice side of town." He tipped his cap. "Enjoy your stay."

  Valentino gred at the guards. "Some people are worse than endometriosis."

  I could feel the tension in his body as he kicked the motorcycle into motion. The other guards must've noticed too—he was ready to run them down. In the end they stepped aside, though so slowly my sleeve brushed a woman's leg as we sped past.

  They still stared at us in the motorcycle's rear view mirror as we turned the next corner.

  "I won't let Your Excellency come to harm." I could barely hear Valentino's voice under the motor and the wind.

  "I know. They set my nerves on edge is all." 'Course, that's what guards want to do to someone like me. "Sorry about your menstrual problems, though."

  "'S fine. I don't have an uterus anymore."

  I didn't have to wonder why those guards were so excitable. The strikers had to get food and water somewhere. This had gone on for how long? One month? They had to be very well prepared and funded. Or maybe—they had a very well-prepared ally with deep funds.

  That, from Cassel's viewpoint, would be bad enough. But even an ally with deep funds didn't expin how the supplies reached the strikers. If these guards were ready to jump at someone with a Sabrewing's badge, they had to be at their wits's end.

  Soon enough we moved on to an area of residential houses five and six floors high, most of them brick and stone, blocks and blocks of them, and when I was sure we were going to run out of city any time now, the houses turned into shopfronts, blocks and blocks of nothing but shopfronts one after the other. So many people crowded the streets, too: carriages and cyclists and pedestrians, making us stop at most corners to wait for them to cross, until I wondered if we'd reach our destination before sunset.

  Of course this is normal in a city as big as this one, but I had only visited one a couple of times since I returned from Vorsa. Though High Tomenedra isn't quite as immense as the capital of the Protectorate, it boasts of a popution over a million, and at least several thousand tourists at any given time.

  As we waited for a particurly rge crowd to move along, we got another look at the blue-green spire, at our right this time. Four spires, in fact. I think they were aligned with the cardinal points, and surrounded a caved-in dome—no, an unfinished dome. It looked like a white pastry someone had taken a bite out of and discarded. A bit unfortunate, then, that its central pcement meant you could get a good look at it from anywhere in the city.

  If that wasn't the Big Project, it was closely reted to it. I wasn't in a mood to care about it, though. My stomach felt empty and my arms heavy. It was time for us to reach our destination soon. It had to be. No city can go on forever.

  We passed an open field with a few weird towers and warehouses. That was all there was: no buildings, nothing growing taller than short grass, only metal carcasses glowing in the afternoon sun. A bit underwhelming, to be honest. But it was still an airport, the one where we'd board our pne in a couple of days or so. One of the few pces of its kind in all of the Protectorate.

  "Here we are," Valentino said.

  I could see the marquee of the Luxury Heights Hotel only a couple of blocks away—"only" that. High Tomenedra was already affecting my brain. If Hotel Rekul had a desert thing going on, I could already tell this one had attempted to grow its own jungle out, a a sea of palm trees over which loomed the hotel's name and the Megarchon's winged tiger—we were already too close to the center of the Megarchon's power for people to remain quiet about their allegiances. Though any attempts ot mimicking a jungle were soon spoiled, as the vegetation was way too orderly to be natural, and even from across the street I could glimpse practical tiled paths. There were also tall wooden structures made to look like watchtowers, connected by imitation rope bridges. Rich people will pay for the weirdest shit.

  "Unless Your Excellency wishes to spend the night elsewhere?"

  "Eh, not really. I think we'd better stick to whatever's expected from us. This looks like the hotel a Lemarezin would choose, doesn't it?"

  "Wise choice, Your Excellency."

  That day I learned motorcycles are usually kept in carriage houses. There's precious few buildings for the specific purpose of storing motorcycles, though one supposes this will change soon enough. I tipped the stablehands generously, seeing how it was that woman's money I was spending.

  Valentino also used her money to buy a newspaper from a kid hanging out between the coaches. As we walked to the hotel's front gates, he opened the newspaper near the back and paged around a bit.

  "See, Your Excellency? The timetable for this week's flights. The next one headed south leaves Tuesday."

  I nodded. It was Sunday. Hopefully that'd give me time to do everything I needed to do.

  "If Your Excellency doesn't mind," Valentino went on, "I'll buy our tickets. But first, let's get a room for the next two days, shall we?"

  "I'll let you do that too." I forced myself not to look at the guards talking to each other not far from the front gates. After our st encounter with their ilk, my patched work clothes made me feel like I had a target on the back of my head.

  I'd better teach myself to walk past the guards without even looking in their direction, like a Lemarezin would.

  broccolifloret