She glances toward the central towers of the Moon-Eater’s fortress, which is probably where the palace of the Vertex Seal would be.Will be? And so this is where the temple will be. Back in the temple, she unleashed whatever array held the Moon-Eater down, and the blowback, or something, brought them here. Exact same place, different time. With enough power, she could probably slingshot them back, because this infant array likely wants to be a massive loop. A circle. That’s how it’s breathing. Nausea twists low in Iriset’s guts.
With the stylus she’s been keeping in her sleeve now, she sketches the outline of one of the most basic elements of Holy Design: Aharté’s knot. It’s eight lines and two overlapping squares, with all points interconnected. It can be turned until it’s ready to be set, and Iriset draws lines away from the anchor, then steps back.
The earth under her shivers.
Iriset’s bones themselves seem to resonate with the vibrations of the array. She can’t see it, but she can imagine it, and feel it. It feels like—it feels like standing in the center of the mirané princes on the Day of the Crowning Sun, when the empire’s most holy array—the Holy Design itself—is revitalized. Here is an echo of it only, a promise.
This is the first knot of an untethered array, a massive, centuries- and city-spanning array. It’s trying hard to pull itself into alignment with the Great Steeples at each cardinal corner. With the perfect, balanced alignment of the palace of the Vertex Seal and the spokes of forces threading intricately throughout Moonshadow City.
But this isn’t Moonshadow City yet. Thereare no steeples. Yet.
This anchor isn’t going to stop trying to reach them. It needs the steeples. Meanwhile there will be more earthquakes.
“Fuck,” Iriset whispers. When she was observing—feeling—the rivation of the Moon-Eater’s prison, she thought there needed to be four points in the central knot, but she saw only two. But it was only two pointsthen. The other points are here.
Iriset presses her palm to the center of the impact. If she couldsunder already, maybe another answer would present itself. But right now if she tries to destroy it—or recommends the Moon-Eater destroy it—there’s no reason to think it won’t explode through the city anyway, and maybe even explode back and forward through time.
Worst of all, Iriset did this. When she was bleeding and furious, standing on a centuries-old secret, and ripped apart a knotjust like thisto free the Moon-Eater. She set this in motion.
So, there is a massive array attempting to unfurl in the center of the crater city, anchored deep in the crust of the planet, and yes, Iriset put it there—but it wasn’t intentional! Nobody could expect her to predict a consequence like time travel, but Iriset might have realized the destructive potential in demolishing the pin that held the structural design of an entire empire in place if she’d thought for just a moment before reaching in to tear open the Moon-Eater’s prison.
Nevertheless Iriset feels perfectly justified in telling the group of experts and small kings and design bosses or whatever they call themselves gathered around the smaller arrival crater that yes, she knows what this is, and yes, she can definitely figure out how to save the entire city, but first she needs to lie the fuck down and then make herself a new eye. So could they please get some kind of emergency stasis field in place to buy some time? When her eye is ready, she’ll lead a task force on the Moon-Eater’s behalf and get it all settled in no time at all. (Ha ha ha, she thinks, perhaps a little hysterically.)
The Moon-Eater, standing beside her with his arms crossed over his chest, looks very smug.
“Will there be more earthquakes?” someone asks, an edge of panic in their voice.
“Probably,” Iriset answers. “Definitely. That’s what whatever stasis fields are available will help with. While I, this designer, figure out how the forces will be directly affected and in what cascading effect.”
“Iriset Sunderer,” Amado Chimera calls out, “would a comprehensive map of the crater city, including all lines of force and design-pockets, be useful?”
“Sure,” Iriset says, flopping one hand around.
The Moon-Eater adds, “Make sure it’s done, then, Amado. Everyone.”
Then he scoops Iriset up in his arms and leaps into the air, laughing merrily. “You’re cold, sunderer,” he says, face bent close to her ear.
Reaching her free hand up to pat his jaw, she accidentally hooks a finger in his open laughing mouth. He nips at her, and Iriset bares her teeth. They fly quickly, and itiscold this high. This late in the year.
The wind dies down as the Moon-Eater hovers. Only gentle gusts buffet them.
She looks up at the Moon-Eater’s stony expression. The sky behind him is deep blue, and as she stares the light changes as a puffy cloud masks the sun. Suddenly she’s aware they’re just floating here, still and quite high over the fortress complex. She wonders what people see from below.
“Is this array anchor that is damaging my city a part of your Holy Design?” he finally asks, gaze cast far.
“Notmine,” Iriset says, shoving at him before she remembers she is literally quads of paces in the air. “Ah, but—yes. I think it’s connecting us, this time, to that time. Maybe… through you.”
The Moon-Eater’s lashes flutter. “Because I am the Holy Design in the future. My unraveled energy fuels it. So it can’t exist here as long as I exist in the way that I am.”
“I definitely don’t think we should tell anybody else about that part.”
But Shade looks back at her with a wry grin. “Ah, Iriset, it is true you are no politician.”
Iriset scowls.
“Several people at that crater just now would delight to know that a potential solution to these tremors is my destruction. You could find some powerful allies.”
“Gross,” she mutters.
