The attacking khentauree’s forehead erupted in a glow of cyan, and they focused on the larger group. Ragehill rebels raised their weapons, even though the terrons would intercept any beam and have it die harmlessly on their skin. Lapis pulled Rin and Scand back behind the ones with tech, to Brander, Dagby and Tamor. On impulse, she grabbed Ty’s arm. He yanked away, slapped his hand on his bicep, and glared; she just raised an eyebrow and jerked her head to Scand’s side.

He tried to say something, but Vory hissed at him before turning back to the confrontation. He smashed his lips shut, then took a few steps back as Jhor dragged a fuming Sanna to them.

A beam shot towards them; Chiddle leapt into the way and spun the spear. The attack dissipated as flicks of color puffed away. The local bounded back, their head swiveling to Vision and Heven before snapping back, and the glow intensified.

The group kept their tech weapons pointed at the attacking khentauree.

“Do not fire. He wants the khentauree to finish his program,” Sanna said. “He is giving him time.”

Time? Was that why he did not fight the tera-khent with the unique weapon? Or did the spear only work against tech attacks, not physically thrown objects? Still, if he could form a spear, why not a shield, an item meant for protection?

The head of the attacking khentauree became so bright, Lapis squinted away, hand blocking the rays. The light burst apart again on the spinning defense and wafted harmlessly away.

“Oooh!”

Lapis glanced at Scand, who watched with rapt, open-eyed awe, and internally sighed. Why use a spear instead of a shield? Because it was cooler. The mechanical beings were not so different from humans in that way.

Chiddle reared and struck with his hooves, close enough that his opponent jumped back, but nowhere near hitting him. Distraction, feints, buying time. The attacker pivoted on his left hind hoof, before bringing the front down and kicking out with his hindquarters. He missed, a lack of precision that surprised Lapis. Khentauree could calculate the most effective strike position, so it seemed odd to miss.

He turned and aimed at the smaller group at the cliff. Perhaps he, too, missed on purpose, because he wanted to harm human and terron infiltrators, not a fellow khentauree.

Chiddle turned the beam into wispy haze.

“He doesn’t listen,” Sanna fretted.

“Chiddle?”

“No. The other khentauree. He is deaf to the one on the cliff. Vision thinks he should listen to her. He does not.” She buzzed and kicked at the pebbles in the dried-up stream bed, her fingers curling into fists.

“How good do you think the local is at fighting?” Lapis asked.

“If he mined, he is not good,” Sanna replied. “Owners did not want khentauree who mined to do anything but mine, so it was not in their programming. If he were a guard, he maybe has some skill. But guard khentauree were not the most stable. Meergevenis sent them with modified battle code to Taangis. No one knew until the code broke and some attacked human miners and owners and other khentauree. It was a scandal, and Gedaavik took advantage of it. He stripped the ones at Ambercaast of the bad programming and made them mine khentauree. The owners were relieved and gave him extra money.”

“What about Chiddle?”

“Chiddle was a hunter. Gedaavik made his special code relate to those skills. But we needed a guard, so he is a guard.”

“Hunters had two tasks,” Jhor murmured as the attacking khentauree attempted yet another shot at them. The spear broke it apart, and the aggressor backed further into the tunnel. “They hunted game for the dining table, and they took care of khentauree who went berserk. He hated it, and asked Gedaavik to help him. He didn’t mind using weapons, but he disliked harming the animals and the khentauree. So Gedaavik switched him with a newer arrival, the owners had no clue, and Chiddle became a fake miner. But he still has weapons programming, and he likes being a guard. He protects, rather than harms.”

The brightest attack yet made the humans wince away from the confrontation, though the terrons did not appear affected. Mint rumbled, craned his neck around, and signed. Rin nodded.

“He’s wantin’ t’ know, if he ‘n Tia should take ‘m out,” he said.

Jhor shook his head. “No. Chiddle will care for him. They should remain as bulwarks, just in case an attack gets through.”

For a khentauree who had no qualms about attacking Dreamer and disconnecting Ree-god from the computer, the care in handling the local confused Lapis. “Then why isn’t he taking him out?”

“To take him out means damaging the chassis, maybe to the point he goes to silence. There’s only so much sponoil a khentauree can lose before that happens, and we’re not near a ready source.”

“No, we brought sponoil with us, because Spring’s hurt. So there is some, though I don’t know how much a khentauree needs to function.”

“A lot more than a few cans,” the modder said drily.

The attacking khentauree swiveled his torso backwards and leapt onto a jutting rock before his head turned back. Chiddle buzzed, swept to the side, reared, and struck the base. The stone crumbled, and weighed down by khentauree, pulled free. The local shot while falling, but the beam whirled into nothing when it hit the spear.

“Sighted Swifts!” Mairin called from the entrance. Lapis spun around, her heart pounding. Swifts? “Looks like they’re having trouble staying in the air.”

Dagby and Tamor hurried to the entrance, along with a scattering of Ragehill rebels. “They look like the transport crafts we saw at Ambercaast,” Dagby yelled. “I think they’re going to land in the glade. We left trails and the sleds are still there, so they probably think it’s safe enough.”

Had Bov Caardinva called for help? Who answered? Not Requet or the markweza. Maybe the Red Trident mercs? Or . . . Gredy? Vision’s prediction slammed into her, and she punched back, reminding herself that fortune tellers did not tell real fortunes.

“Get the backup inside!” Vory commanded. “We don’t want a fight right now!”

“Chiddle, you must hurry,” Sanna shouted. “Trouble comes.”

“He must finish his program.”

Sanna blared. Lapis slapped her hands over her ears with everyone else, the terrons flinched, and Chiddle jerked. He held out his other arm; another spear appeared.

“I will hurt him enough so he will run his diagnostic. Spring finished the program when she did so.”

Jhor was not the only one who did not backtalk when Sanna became upset.

The attacking khentauree aimed higher, at the rocks above their heads. Chiddle spun the spears and flung them into the air, intercepting the attack. The strike bounced off the whirling weapons and struck the local’s front legs and chest; the metal crumpled, and he collapsed to the side, buzzing. The khentauree froze as the spot of cyan dwindled and simmered.

“He runs the diagnostic,” Sanna said, pushing past everyone else and prancing to her cohort. Jhor trotted after her and knelt by the fallen mechanical being. Well, if he needed sponoil, they had some.

The clatter of the cart caught Lapis’s attention. It tumbled away from the cliffside and Linz snatched it as Vision and Heven dangled Spring over the edge by her human arms. Mint and Tia rushed over to help. While they could not reach high enough to pluck the injured khentauree off the face, they did snag her hindquarters and ease her down. Patch mounted Heven, still holding the sponoil, and the two locals grabbed the rest before taking the jumpy way down.

Lapis did not envy her partner, needing to stay on a slick back while jostling the cans.

“The Swifts are definitely landing!” Mairin shouted. Tamor held up his tech and took a picture before retreating with the others into the cave.

Sanna spun and hummed. “The interference harms them, and they cannot fly further. The interference at Ambercaast was the same. The markweza made Jhor modify equipment to work despite it.”

Lapis sighed. Perhaps she and Patch should have said nicer things about Maphezet Kez and his insidious, Starry-eyed cult. Their turn of luck seemed in keeping with the mythic Ill-Winds of the Stars.

Sanna amplified a few short bursts of buzzy sound. Vision clicked and took two leaps to make it down. Heven landed hard and pivoted; Patch’s knees strained under the pressure he put on the barrel.

The locals looked up at the cliff while everyone else backed away, the terrons carrying Spring.

A khentauree, as glowing and beautiful as Ghost, stood at the edge. They had long, ethereal hair and tail that blew in the soft breeze, the strands thin to the point of transparency. Two round silver pendants with red gemstones in the center held a chain that draped down to the bridge of their nose. Tassel-like earrings dangled to their shoulders, brushing at streaks of red that ran to their chest. Rings decorated fingers and hooves, some glittering with small gems.

They looked like the mythological khentauree who became the inspiration for the mechanical beings. Chittering fear, more intense than what Lapis experienced when she first beheld Ghost, drummed through her. Something about them, something sinister . . .

Two others flanked them, one pawing and pacing and flicking their hand at Vision and Heven, while the other regarded the cave with the same lack of emotion Chiddle used when angry.

Vision held out her hands, palms up, as if pleading with the new arrivals. Heven firmed her shoulders and buzzed. The three stared at her, then the ghosty one raised a hand.

Clouds with a sparkle of frost formed from nowhere, filling the air, fogging sight. A low, ominous sound, as if an out-of-tune bell continuously rang in a fuzzy woolen blanket, beat at Lapis’s eardrums, but with a soft insistency rather than ear-splitting intensity.

BOOM!

The ground shook and black, acrid smoke burst across the entrance. The frosty clouds disappeared as all eyes tore away from the three khentauree on the cliff, and focused on the glade.

Apparently the ill-winds blew for everyone that day. Hopefully they tangled more with the enemy than her group.

“We must follow Vision!” Sanna shouted. “She knows a tunnel the enemies cannot enter.”

Which ones?

Lapis jerked back to the cliff; empty. Where had they gone?

Tia lifted Spring onto Mint’s back, haste rather than caution driving her; the khentauree straddled him with her horse legs and accepted sponoil cans from Patch before he dismounted. Poor being, leaking the stuff down Mint’s side. Hopefully Jhor could help when they reached a safer place.

“Lapis, you must wake the other khentauree,” Chiddle called, looking at her. “Heven says we cannot leave them to Tuft.”

“Tuft? The glowing khentauree?”

“Yes. I think there is something wrong with him, for they speak too cautiously, and with coded words.”

So her instinctual reaction was not so mistaken. Jhor still held Ghost in cautious esteem, but Lapis found him a softer being than she originally thought. She did not think any further experience with Tuft would end in the same way—unless Ree-god’s code had something to do with it. Insane, powerful khentauree would make this little jaunt more difficult than it already was.

He held up a finger. “Say, “Lepaad narjill zank.”

“Lepaad narjill zank!”

As one, the sleeping khentauree buzzed to life, their heads turning to regard her.

“Say ‘Nevisa mounk.’”

“Nevisa mounk!”

As one, they pivoted and waited until Vision rushed to the lead, then followed her. Mint went next, and Tia hurried to Chiddle and Sanna, who pushed the attacking khentauree onto her back. Abastion rebels spanned the cave, weapons pointed at the entrance and the cliffside.

Lapis had doubts, about their effectiveness if Tuft attacked. She knew well, the damage a ghostly khentauree did to a squishy human body, even one wearing tech armor. Ghost took out the Red Trident mercs without trouble, protecting the Ambercaast khentauree—and Rin and Tovi—with a clean, efficient strike exterminating the threat.

Rin and Scand held a leg on each side of Tia and ran to keep up with the terron’s quick gait. Light blazed from multiple handheld tech, and the rest of them followed Vision’s soft glow into the darkness.

Lapis had not realized how fast a large group under pressure of enemy discovery could move, but they raced along the streambed at a good clip, heavy boots, heavy breathing, and the clack of hooves on stone echoing around them. Vision veered to the left when they reached two sliding doorways the size of the one in the tera-khent’s room. She pressed her hand against the rock to the side; the metal groaned as it pulled back into the wall. As soon as the gap was large enough for khentauree, they scurried through and continued on.

Lapis shooed Rin and Scand inside, and she and Brander took their place holding the khentauree to Tia’s back. If the Swift flyers reached them before they escaped, if Tuft and his companions popped back up, she wanted them on the safer side. Rin pursed his lips at her but followed orders he did not want to follow, like a good apprentice. Ty’s smugness at her request irritated her, but the annoying teen was not her current problem.

The agonizing wait for the doorway to widen enough for the terrons had her staring down the tunnel, expecting shadows to erupt from the darkness. She thought reverberating shouts paraded through the air, but Tia moved, and her attention ratcheted back to the escape.

They hastened through, and Patch pushed another rock panel; the door ground to a halt and proceeded to laboriously close. He and four Ragehill rebels persisted at the entrance while the slabs slid back into place. Lapis glanced at him, worried, but he remained preoccupied with the tunnel.

She definitely heard shouts echoing to them as she scurried with Tia and Brander down the grooved-metal corridor.

It widened, and they entered a room heated by a bubbly pool in the center.

Chiddle trotted up to Lapis. “You must tell the khentauree to go rest. It will make them go to safe places. Say, ‘Medoaa keethem ba vara.’”

“OK.” She cleared her throat. “Medoaa keethem ba vara.”

The khentauree looked at her as one, she repeated, then Vision hum-clicked. They turned and hustled into the right exit, one that had a large golden plaque hanging from one screw above it. Three stepped up to Tia and slid the attacking khentauree from her back, then carried him into the corridor, one hind leg trailing on the ground.

Heven helped Spring from Mint, but neither followed the other mechanical beings.

“This is . . .”

Caitria’s strained words caught Lapis’s attention. She walked to Rin and Scand, who stared at the walls, and took in the room.

The pool filled most of the room, with a glass walkway across the water that linked a small, flat platform to the shore. The platform looked like a giant speleothem someone had spiked deep into the bottom, and she assumed it was as fake as the ozicon ones in other parts of the workstation. A stone podium stood on top, though pieces of it and debris from the ceiling littered the ground at its base. A stalactite had fallen and taken the right-hand edge with it.

Sunk into the ozicon next to the podium was a tall wooden pole that looked ready to flake into oblivion. Tarnished gold rope wrapped around it, with thin threads running from the top to vertical stone slabs embedded in the walls. The threads were tied to curled hooks, some of which had pulled away from their holes and dangled into the circular walkway. Many covers had missing parts, revealing human remains within.

Gold lamé limply draped over them, tied at one shoulder. Necklaces and jeweled rings, marred with dust, weighed on necks and fingers, and belts with embroidered glyphs held the tunics to their frames. Lapis thought she glimpsed the same ties that held Ree-god to the floating discs, but these bound chests and ribs to keep the deceased upright. Bones, some busted, some little more than dust, accompanied by bits of hair, clumps of mummified flesh, cloth, a few gemstones, and fallen jewelry, littered the floor beneath them.

The plaques on the slabs had images of the Star’s champion, Navonisaan—or she assumed they were images of Navonisaan. The figure sported the typical vest with fringe, a wrapped skirt and heavy leather and fur boots. He held the Shard of the South Star in one hand and the Point of the Black Star in the other. Unfortunately, the facial features were anything but; Maphezet Kez’s visage stared out.

Quite the hubris, liking oneself to the mythological man who fought to allow spirits an afterlife instead of nothingness.

Sanna buzzed, annoyed. “Vision says they are the remains of the exalted who died while in the Cloister. They were not to be buried here, but Maphezet Kez insisted on it. The authorities said no, but he and his successors did so anyway. They hid them away, so no one but the Cloister knew.”

“The exalted?” Lapis asked as Patch slipped an arm around her waist. All must have gone well with the door closing. She smiled up at him and he produced a lop-sided grin that reminded her he was a little unhappy with her taking off as she did.

He did so on missions, all the time. He simply did not like being on the agonizing wait side.

“They were leaders,” Sanna said. “They taught initiates and told the khentauree when to pray.” Her deeper tone hinted at the depth of her disgust. “Khentauree were told to take care of the exalted until Ree-god returned.”

Lapis much hated Maphezet Kez and his successors. “How long did this cult last?”

Sanna hummed her question, and Heven answered. “There was trouble with Dreamer,” she translated. “He wanted to go outside, and the grandson of Maphezet Kez told him that his purpose was to pray and do what he was told. He broke. He attacked the humans and destroyed everything he could. The workstation connected to the mines, and he collapsed the tunnels between that he could reach. Heven says the grandson was very old, with snow-hair and baggy eyes. The strain was too much on him and he died. The Cloister humans numbers became less and less after that. She is not certain at what point no more humans remained. The mine lasted longer, but they lost contact with the khentauree there. She thought all had gone to silence when Luthier and the breakaways had no trouble moving there. But Tuft is from the Shivers. And he is now here, with Luveth and Dedi.”

“Luveth is the priest in the temple connected to Dreamer’s room. I don’t know who Dedi is,” Lapis said. Interesting, that neither side pursued further contact. Why not? Heven even mentioned that tunnels connected the workstation and the mine. Vision’s reaction, his reaction . . . dislike, perhaps distrust, played a role.

Maybe they had Luthier’s reluctance to speak all wrong. Maybe she protected Tuft, instead.

“Heven says only caretakers come here. Most khentauree hate this room.”

She was not fond of marching through a crypt, either.

The walkway around the pool was thinner than what Mint and Tia could easily navigate, and they spent time carefully stepping and leaning away, so they did not brush against the slabs. Relief that she only had to avoid the dangling hooks filled Lapis, which only made her feel worse about subjecting the terrons to the uncomfortable situation.

Tamor took pictures. Of course he did. Lapis wondered if the Minq would visit, if he captured images of the riches in the Cloister. Antiquities would fetch high prices, and a criminal organization could do a lot with the funds.

As with the Ambercaast khentauree, perhaps the locals needed to claim the workstation as their home. Any choices about selling stuff would fall to them and not greedy humans.

The corridor that Vision chose was not the same one the other khentauree took. It had golden tiles, shiny despite the chips and divots, decorating everything, top to bottom. A human attempt at creating the Tunnel of Light to the afterlife? For all the good it did them. Their skeletons now fell apart and littered the floor of their final resting place. No light, there.

They entered an echoey chamber with a ceiling so tall, the blare of lamplight from humongous golden chandeliers did not reach it. Mops, ragged cloths, tipped buckets of water that ran dirt-infused liquid across the floor mosaic were evidence that khentauree, busy with cleaning, had not expected the Ree-god interruption.

More dead trees with watered soil stood between two-story paintings of Maphezet Kez, Ree Helvasica, Juni Lepaa and several other figures Lapis assumed were significant members of the cult. Each had a gold frame with different symbols at the bottom; their names? Too bad she could not read the language.

Her gaze lingered on Ree-god. The stiff, haughty woman dressed in the same lamé tunic and overabundance of jewelry the dead wore, but with a matching flowing skirt, glittery shoes, and a lace veil that trailed down her back and glowed an unearthly gold. Lapis lifted her lip. The khentauree may call her god, but that honored her, and she did not deserve it. The fake had a better ring to it. Her eyes drifted over Kez; two together, the fake god and the fake prophet. How much harm they wrought, placing themselves in exalted, Star-struck roles.

“What is this place?” Linz asked, staring at the towering paintings in shocked disgust.

“Maphezet Kez, who ran the Shivers and this workstation, built a temple to the Stars down here,” Lapis answered. She pointed to his grand picture, where, instead of a fitted outfit, he wore the flowing, glittery robes of the Star’s ancient arbiter, Najordisaan. “That’s him, and the one next to him is Ree Helvasica, the khentauree re-coder who thought she could put herself in a khentauree blank and achieve godhood.” She laughed, her sarcasm echoing through the room. “It didn’t work.”

The group turned around, taking in the extravagant sight, some so enchanted with the gleam of gold and jewel-like paint they tripped over the dropped cleaning supplies. Buckets clattered away, spraying muddy droplets across the tesserae creating the night sky, dimming the dozens of stars that represented the interest of otherworldly beings.

Patch eyed the reactions and gritted his teeth. “He brought in artifacts from Taangin temple ruins. Arches and other large relics, to prove how godly he was.” He flung his arms out. “This is a golden monument to a wealthy man’s greed and hubris. And where’d it get him?”

“Dead and forgotten,” Lapis supplied. More than one person nodded and sounded their agreement.

She knew, they thought of Dentheria’s puppet rulers and their supporters. People of wealth and power and standing, whom they hoped to relegate to the dustbin of history, just like Kez and his cult.

“If there’s a room with khentauree supplies and a main terminal, I should be able to help Spring,” Jhor said, crashing through the awe. Lapis suspected he did so on purpose, to pull attention away from ostentatious paintings and to their present predicament. “I also should be able to install code to wipe this Ree-god program and get the khentauree to stop attacking.”

The modder, Sanna and Chiddle, and Tearlach and Vory, stood with the local khentauree, their discussion more fruitful than gaping at the display. The Jilvaynan contingency hurried over, while the Ragehills remained rooted in their wonderment.

“That’s a primary concern,” Tearlach agreed. “It will be safer for all involved, if they return to where they rest.”

“From what Heven and Vision say, the program concerning Ree-god just needs to complete. I can help that along,” Jhor said. “And I can add Lyddisian to their memory banks, as Vision requested. Anyone that doesn’t want to keep it, I can delete it later.”

“You need a team,” Lapis said.

“Yeah.” Tearlach smiled. “Since you and Patch now have so much experience with the local khentauree, you need to go with Jhor.”

She did not enjoy his amused sarcasm. The tera-khent attack had everything to do with Chiddle, not her, and the khentauree and her partner disconnected Ree, not her.

“I will go.” And she doubted anyone, including Jhor, would deny Sanna her demand.

Tearlach glanced at the modder. “How large a group?”

“I’ll need Linz, and someone to help move Spring. She can’t walk.”

Tia rumbled, signed, and Scand cleared his throat. “Tia says she can carry Spring. It’ll be good, because she can interfere with wayward khentauree if she needs to. Their beam weapons don’t affect terrons.”

“Good.” Jhor jerked his chin at the rats. “Rin, find a clean cloth so Mint can wipe down. Sponoil touching skin isn’t healthy, even for terrons.”

“Aye,” he said before scurrying to complete the task.

Vision and Sanna had a quick chirping interaction.

“Heven will lead the rest to the Shivers, Vision will show us the main console.”

“Get going,” Tearlach said. “The sooner you can get the khentauree calmed down, the sooner we can aid those scientists and figure out exactly what Bov Caardinva is searching for.”

Lapis glanced at Rin, and Brander winked. “We’ll take good care of him,” he promised. Her emotions fell, but she nodded. Now that she knew he and Scand had joined the expedition, she wanted him near, to keep an overprotective eye on him. How sad for her, that she knew he, as an ingenious street rat, could well care for himself, but guttershanks were not foreign mercs or code-addled khentauree. Or one jealous teen, who eyed him with narrow dislike.