Hear Faint Strains of Music

(1:3:0)

“So.” Gedahr raised his eyebrows expectantly, half-leaning back against the heavy table containing the drink barrels.

Seih sighed, the sound buried beneath the chatter and music of the regularly-scheduled party in the political and social heart of the city, the gardens filled with an oblivious populace pulled from the highest and lowest echelons of society. At least people like Ged were enjoying the free food. He and his people had taken to coming here in their off hours as an excuse to mingle, typically for more nefarious reasons than gossip. It had practically become the new Hub, but without the risk of Divinations pulling their sedition from the stream of consciousness.

The Hub itself seemed to be crumbling. These days, without its bartender at the counter quietly running the whole place, it seemed to be mostly an empty room full of free-for-all arguments. The last time he’d been there, someone who seemed in favour of negotiating—maybe even joining—Darkness had filled the gap. He’d left quickly once it became clear Firemount was one of the main points of conflict.

Though not before hearing from Dotz that Blassin had gone to fight. Hopefully he was still alive, somewhere. Still fighting.

Like they weren’t. Sighing again, he tossed back the remnants of his glass, the warmth of it sitting heavily in his stomach. “Nothing. No progress. It doesn’t help that Firalk’s not convinced mobilising some kind of force is a good idea.”

“All we need are a few Divinations suited for the job. Those things could do the job of ten men. Can’t be corrupted either.” The man inspected the pastry he’d picked up critically before popping it into his mouth.

“The problem is that Hafest’s point that the Unity is keeping them back is... well, it’s a good one.” He rested the cold glass against his forehead, staving off a mild headache—probably caused by his increasing lack of sleep—that had only grown after being locked in debates all day, putting forward propositions and plans for a potential force that could be created. Only to have it all summarily dismissed. “Nevermind that they’re not making progress. They’ve been stuck in Nife’s Pass for... a couple of months, off the top of my head. And if anything, their forces are the ones being slowly eroded.”

“The Light constructs we made are helping.”

“Only with the assistance of the Angels’ waters. And it still takes them a long time to recover from infection, if they don’t simply die instead.”

“Have you tried the muklets?” A familiar teenager with a messy mop of dirty-blond hair popped up, tossing a moist, dark-coloured square of something in his mouth. “’oo ma’e all ‘is ‘tuff, ‘nyway? Is this where all the kernels my family’s paying the void are going?”

“Celaph’s shop makes them.” Seih watched, raising an eyebrow as the other produced an entire stack and offered one to Ged. “You wouldn’t believe it, but this has its own fund dedicated to it. It’s supposed to stimulate the economy and ‘provide for the community’. They have something like it in all ten complete Dominions, all provided for by local bakers.”

“Jondice?”

“Tambo and Hafest support him.”

Dais made a noise of disgust. “Always knew Tambo was a slick fish.”

“He’s following the approval of the public, and right now they’re turning towards anything that makes it feel like the world isn’t ending.” He took the one Dais offered him and downed it in one bite, pausing a moment to swallow. That’s the stickiest thing I’ve ever tasted. Not bad, though. "Firalk and I and anyone associated with us have been falling out of favour, and honestly if this goes on any longer he might just cut ties, too—”

Something heavy and wet splatted across the back of his head.

He flinched as it registered, vaguely fruity liquid meeting his fingers, his gaze connecting with the enraged eyes of a gaudily-dressed woman drawing her hand back for another throw. What in the—? She had some kind of yellow fruit clutched in her hand, yelling something indecipherable he didn’t catch in the sudden jumble of the moment.

He did catch Dais’s abrupt swear, a rough hand that had to belong to Ged snatching him and shoving him back before he could catch his bearings, the back of his thigh banging into the edge of the table. His view spun as another fruit smacked into a barrel just a hair to his right, locking on a man further over, more ammunition in his hands.

“—Doom us all! You’re trying to kill us in a war while you sit in your fancy villa!”

He froze, eyes jumping from one to another, more fruit flying from at least three different directions, startled partygoers finally beginning to react, cries and a shriek tearing through the music and chatter. Ged pressed him further back, and he gritted his teeth, peripherally aware of others who’d been nearby scrambling to get away from the assault.

I know I’m not the most popular right now, but this is new—

“We’ll be taken over by Arathnea!”

“Down! Down! Down with the end-bringers!”

“Are your heads made of scalelets?!” Dais shouted back, his voice cracking. “You’re the ones dooming us!”

“Alright. Back.” Ged shoved him down, herding him under the table before he could protest.

“Gh!” His head whacked against the edge, only catching a glimpse of Dais throwing something back with alarming accuracy and force, a pained cry rising above the chaos. “Reyahn— did they plan this?”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s only a handful.” The other man ushered him out on the other side, directing him around a sculpture and through carefully-cultured bushes into another grassy section closed in by string-lights and shrubbery. Twisting a look over his shoulder, though, he managed to see the scene devolving into a scuffle, others he vaguely recognised as part of Ged’s group seizing some of the fruit-throwing assaulters, Dais wrestling on the ground. “Security will handle it. And I’ll have to dig the boy out with them, from the looks of it.”

Seih hissed between his teeth, the back of his neck prickling as he swiped at the goop on his head, a deep sense of unease crawling up his spine. “I can’t believe they’d come in here just to... plaster me....”

He trailed off as an eery wail rose over the distant shouts, every hair on his body slowly standing on end. That— that—

For an instant, he saw a shadow lunging at him, jaws wide and fangs glinting.

The image cracked with an echoing boom, and he flinched for the second time that night before belatedly recognising the sound as a drum. The wail, though, that wasn’t singing. That was a cry of despair, coming from somewhere beyond the fruit-throwers—a dirge that itched from the inside of his bones to shiver over his skin. A cry spreading like wildfire, taken up by different voices; sweeping over a crowd hitching and freezing and falling utterly silent.

“—Fallen, fallen! The Loh Unity has fallen! Arathnea has betrayed us—

“—The Arachnid Queen has joined with Darkness!”