spirits-who-ride-within?” Embar Khair’s mutilated metal face managed a frown.
“The aliens,” Dreams-of-War said patiently. Embar Khair had died only a handful of years after the arrival of the Kami, but her armor had been their gift. “I need to know everything you know.”
“It is not a long story. We first learned of the Kami through Nightshade, which had sealed itself away for centuries. Then Nightshade sent a ship to Memnos, with news of new technology that had been granted by aliens. They gave us haunt-tech, and the Chain.”
“And what did the Matriarchy think about these gifts?”
“They did not trust Nightshade. I remember—” but here, Embar Khair’s form twisted, half-melting.
“Armor! What is the matter with you?”
“I cannot recall . . . I am half-here.”
Dreams-of-War rose to her feet and put her face close to the half-visage of the armor. “But you must.”
“Cannot . . .”
“Wait,” Dream-of-War instructed the armor. “I have an idea. Reduce yourself.”
The armor did so, melting down into its customary ball. Dreams-of-War picked up the ball and strode swiftly down the hallway, to the chamber that contained the mansion’s black light matrix.
She had never had reason to enter this chamber before, and she hesitated at the door. Leaning forward, she spoke quietly into the oreagraph opening.
“The Grandmothers. What are they doing?”
They sleep, the oreagraph replied after a moment.
“Good. Deactivate the weir-wards to this chamber, then tell me when the Grandmothers wake.” Dreams-of-War leaned closer, so that the oreagraph could scan her soul-engrams through the lenses of her eyes. She blinked, and then the door was opening. Dreams-of-War carried the ball of armor into the black light chamber and set it upon the couch.
“Resume your form.”
The armor did so.
“I am going to activate the matrix,” Dreams-of-War said, “to bring your spirit wholly through from the Eldritch Realm. I am unfamiliar with these matters, so you must instruct me. Will this work?”
“It should.”
“Then tell me how to turn this thing on.”
The armor issued instructions, with which Dreams-of-War complied. It was not so very difficult. Within a few moments, the matrix began to glow.
There was a sound like the echo of a shriek within the chamber. Outside the door, Dreams-of-War heard the rattle of activated weir-wards. She spoke hastily to the oreagraph. “I told you—deactivate!” The sound stopped. The armor stood before her, calm now, and full-faced. Dreams-of-War stared.
“I am here,” Embar Khair said.
“Tell me what I need to know.”
And Embar Khair did so.
The women stood at the entrance to the ship. Above them, the Memnos Tower shone red in the last of the Martian sun. Frost cracked beneath their boots.
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