Chapter 107: Sincerity

The feline settled onto the stones. Its breathing slowed, and pale veins briefly spread along its stomach before fading beneath the fur. The old man watched the change, apparently satisfied.

The Manager did not share his relief.

"You have what you asked for," she said. "Now give me the repair method."

"I said I would."

"Where are the diagrams?"

"At the Forty-Second."

For the first time since his arrival, the old man's answer seemed to leave the Manager uncertain she had heard correctly.

"What do you mean, they're at the Forty-Second?"

"They were delivered before I came here."

Her eyes moved toward the breach.

Far beyond the ruined wall, the stampede continued through the Hollow Road toward the Bastion she had left behind.

The old man followed her gaze. "Yes. That is probably why they are going there."

Stone cracked beneath the Manager's boots.

"You caused this?"

"Not intentionally."

"You placed something inside my Bastion that drew a Seventh Rank and half the creatures living beneath the Hollow Road."

"I sent you the means to repair your Beacon. The attraction was an unfortunate consequence."

"Where did you put it?"

"In the foundation vault beneath the Beacon."

"I gave no one permission to enter that vault."

"No. You gave permission for a sealed repair crate addressed to your office to be stored there until your return."

The Manager's expression darkened as she remembered something.

The old man continued, "It should have arrived several weeks ago. A month at most. Plain black wood, iron bands and a seal containing three concentric circles."

"I received notice of a crate before we left," she said. "No sender. No inventory."

"Then it arrived safely."

Frederick looked toward the Hollow Road. "What is inside it?"

"Copies of the diagrams I used here. A sequence for restoring the foundation channels, instructions for reconnecting the Beacon to the remembered structure and several corrections to methods your Bastions have been using incorrectly for centuries."

"That wouldn't attract Abominations," the Manager said.

"The diagrams would not."

Her hands closed. Stone covered them to the wrists. "What else is in the crate?"

"A Seventh Rank core."

Several Reapers turned toward him.

The old man spoke as if he had admitted to packing an extra tool. "The core must be divided among the foundation channels. A Bastion does not remember itself through stone alone. It requires enough condensed memory to restore what has been lost."

"You placed the core of a Seventh Rank beneath our Beacon without warning us?"

"I included instructions."

"In a sealed crate no one opened because we didn't know who sent it."

"That part was prudent. Usually, people open mysterious containers far too quickly."

The Manager took a step toward him. The ground rose beneath her heel. "You knew what that core would draw."

"I knew it might attract nearby Abominations once its concealment began weakening. I did not expect the Forty-Second to empty its experienced patrols and send its leadership into the Hollow Road at precisely the wrong time."

"You expect me to believe this was poor timing?"

"I have made mistakes before."

Frederick glanced at the repaired Bastion surrounding them. "How many cores does it take?"

"One Seventh Rank is the minimum. That will restore the Beacon and stabilize the Bastion around it. An Eighth Rank produces stronger foundations and allows the Beacon to recover sections the Seventh cannot reach. A Ninth could return a Bastion to its full capacity, assuming the original structure still remembers enough of itself."

"And you have a Ninth Rank core lying around?" the Manager asked.

"No. Even I cannot hunt Eighth and Ninth Ranks whenever the mood takes me." The old man scratched his cheek. "Sevenths are considerably less troublesome."

The Reapers looked toward the feline.

It yawned, displaying the darkness that now contained Rook. Mara stepped closer to it, watching the chain between them.

The Manager remained focused upon the old man. "You said you sent copies."

"To several Bastions."

"Each containing a core?"

"Each containing what was necessary for the repairs."

A grim understanding moved through the gathered Reapers. If every crate drew Abominations as the one beneath the Forty-Second had, then the disturbance upon the Hollow Road was not isolated.

"How many Bastions are under attack because of you?" Frederick asked.

"Attack is an unnecessarily dramatic word. Most received advance warning and retained enough Reapers to repel whatever followed the cores. The Forty-Second should have possessed the same advantage."

"Except we came here."

"Yes. An inconvenient decision."

The Manager's stare sharpened. "We came here because this Bastion reappeared where it did not belong. Then your creature prevented us from leaving."

"She kept you alive."

"She trapped us."

"Those conditions also overlap."

The Manager pointed toward the feline. "Was that why she kept circling the Bastion? Why she drove back anyone who tried to leave?"

The old man looked at the creature, and for the first time, a trace of discomfort crossed his face.

"I left her with a simple instruction. Anyone who discovered the Seventy-Second before I returned was to remain inside. She understands commands extremely well. Explanations are more difficult."

"You knew we were here."

"Not immediately. By the time I learned who had entered, the first movement had already begun in the Hollow Road. If she released you, your group would have met the stampede inside the tunnels without the protection of either Beacon. You would have died, and the people most capable of understanding the diagrams would have been scattered across the road."

"You could have come sooner."

"I did come sooner."

The old man lifted his cane and showed them its worn lower end. Several fresh cracks ran through the wood.

"I was much farther away than anticipated."

The Manager did not appear satisfied, but the explanation left her with less to attack. She looked toward the breach again. The Pale Abomination had already escaped. The road to the Forty-Second was filled with creatures, and most of her strongest Reapers were standing inside the wrong Bastion.

"Why order her to imprison anyone who discovered this place?" she asked. "If your goal is restoring Bastions, why hide the first one you repaired?"

"Because I needed the other crates delivered before anyone learned this was possible."

"Why?"

"News moves quickly when it gives people hope. It moves even faster when it gives them power."

Frederick frowned. "Repairing the Bastions should be shared. Everyone in the Underworld benefits from having safe ground."

The old man turned toward him. "Everyone?"

"Who wouldn't want the Bastions restored?"

"You cannot genuinely believe every Reaper wants the same thing."

"They want somewhere safe from Abominations."

"Most do."

The old man walked toward one of the repaired foundation lines. He placed the end of his cane inside the groove and traced the unfamiliar pattern carved around the Beacon.

"Restored Bastions would reopen roads that have remained closed for centuries. Settlements cut off from one another would reconnect. The authority held by the surviving Bastions would spread. Trade would change. Borders would become enforceable again. Captains who built kingdoms around dead Beacons would discover that the old laws could reach them once more."

The old man noticed.

"Some people have survived very well in the ruins," he continued. "Some have accumulated followers, territory and power precisely because the Underworld remains divided. To them, a repaired Bastion is not a shelter. It is an invasion."

"Then why send the diagrams at all?" Mara asked.

"Because hiding them forever would preserve the world they created."

"You said you wanted secrecy."

"Until enough Bastions possessed copies that destroying one would achieve nothing." He tapped the pattern with his cane. "If I handed this to the Forty-Second alone, someone could burn your records, kill your Remembrancers and bury the knowledge with your Beacon. If several Bastions begin their repairs at once, the people opposed to it must reveal themselves before they can silence everyone."

Frederick looked at the unfamiliar lines running throughout the Seventy-Second. "You used the crates as bait."

"I used them as insurance."

"For whom?"

"For the knowledge."

A distant impact rolled through the Hollow Road. Dust slipped from the damaged ceiling, followed by a roar too far away to identify.

The Manager turned toward her remaining officers. "Gather everyone still capable of moving. We return to the Forty-Second immediately."

"The main road is occupied," one of them warned.

"Then we carve through it."

"You will lose half your force before reaching the first descent," the old man said.

The Manager faced him. "Do you have a better route?"

"Yes."

"What will that cost?"

His eyes moved toward the feline, then toward Mara.

"The same agreement."

Mara followed the translucent chain disappearing beneath the creature's ribs. She could still feel Rook at its other end, faint but present. His condition no longer seemed to be worsening.

She tightened her grip around the dagger.

"Then start walking."

The old man smiled and lifted his cane from the foundation line.

Behind him, the repaired Beacon continued burning, its light passing over the diagrams that could restore the Underworld or begin a war between everyone who wanted it left broken.