Studier,” he said, “Ephan says he’s already told you all he knows. Therefore if you’ve called me to relay your question about the Qerys and the Full Blossom, he will not answer it. He also says—”
“Tell him to come now.”
The boy wiped his bloody hand on his tunic. “He won’t.”
Psal shouted in the corridor. “Cloud! I’ve heard another tower. Come now!”
“He has an answer for that as well.”
“Don’t you have duties to attend to? Garlic and fig poultices to make?”
“Already made. I was about to take inventory of our pharma after leaving the sick room.”
“Oh? Well, then…do the inventory. And after…try to sleep.”
The child frowned. “Are Chief Orian’s rescued warriors to live with us?”
“It seems so. Nahas has his reasons, I suppose.”
“Orian is hard to endure, is he not?”
“Quite hard to endure.” Psal raised his voice. “Cloud! Have you not heard me?”
Moments later, Ephan appeared, his tunic also stained with blood. He leaned against a nearby wall as if the wall alone could hold him up.
“Did you hear this other tower?” Psal picked up a spyglass from a nearby shelf.
“I have.”
“Remember the day I thought I charted a Falconer tower and it turned out to be a Peacock tower. Could it be…I was wondering…maybe Cassia’s tower added some false notes to their own song. The Peacock Clans have been experimenting with coded and musical interference—”
“While it is true that the Peacock Clans have learned some tricks from the Mockingbird clans, it is not a Peacock tower. Truly, Storm, is this why you’ve called me?”
Psal pointed to the forest. “Then, a night-tossed tower’s nearby. Several different rhythms, but primarily Peacock rhythms.”
“Sleeplessness has made you wary. The Peacock Clans are not ‘upon’ us ready to strike. Now, may I return to my sick room?”
“You’ve taken Rangi,” Psal observed. “You’re always nasty when its influence begins to wane. Even if it helps you bear your duties better, you must avoid it. Daris imitates us and—”
“I have not enslaved myself to Rangi. But you.…” Ephan took a deep breath. “You exasperate me, Storm. All night and morning you have been agitated worrying for Cassia. If Nahas suspected.…”
“My only concern is this stray Peacock tower in our fields,” Psal defended himself.
“Give me the parchment.” Ephan slowly slid down the wall to sit. A gray parchment that tracked the warring Peacock Towers lay near, but he reached for a blue one and a yellow chart that noted changes in level two tower songs. “As I expected. It’s a night-tossed tower that has happened upon our fields.” He looked back and forth between the two parchments, then dipped his stylus in the jar of red dye and made a correction on a blue parchment. “Its song’s a cross-pollination. Towers are good students. Always learning. Even when they’re damaged. It’s been here and there and has created a lovely song along the way. But no, not a warring Peacock tower.”
True, towers often modified their songs, tuned them to other towers they crossed paths with, or to human dwellers, or to regions. They were always adding strange variations. The tendency of damaged towers to transform their tunes made tracking them difficult.
“Mostly Peacock rhythms, though?” Psal’s ivory dagger leaned against a large thatched basket. He picked it up. “The towers are their own clan. They would rather avoid each other than meet while some dispute still persists. So why is this tower here? It should not be here in Wheel Clan lands.”
Ephan hauled himself to his feet and walked toward the door. “Why pay attention to level two night-tossed Peacock towers? No one cares about them. And since the war began, few communicate with them. They’re useless in war.”
Lan entered, rubbing his eyes. “Watchmen,” he asked, “what of the night?”
“The Qerys tower lies fainting at the end of this region,” Psal told him. “And—contrary to all common sense—a strange Peacock tower has arrived in our fields.”
“The Qerys?” Lan frowned. “Shall I go to them?”
“You and Deyn, perhaps. If the king allows.”
Lan walked to the window. “As for this Peacock tower, warring towers avoid each other unless a skirmish is planned. So, unless it’s one of Tsbosso’s tricks, it’s probably night-tossed.”
Ephan sorted through the parchments scattered on the floor, then picked up the blue one that tracked the level three towers, those well-maintained towers whose inhabitants had little or no tower science. He then studied the tracks of the abandoned and failing level four towers.
“They are indeed night-tossed.” He pointed to a tiny speck. “Orphaned from the Peacock Clan. They’re hardly worthy of the Peacock name. They probably aren’t even aware we’re at war. There’s no indication they’ve encountered any of the great Peacock Clans or any of its allies since this damned war began.”
“And yet,” Lan said, “Tsbosso is so wily.…”
Ephan stifled a yawn. “It’s difficult to give a tower a false history. The Peacock Clans are not that clever. No Peacock towers are missing or unaccounted for, are they? Therefore, we will tell Nahas to let these night-tossed orphans glean today in our fields while we burn our dead. When night comes, they will be glad to be rid of our corpses and pyres.” He stumbled toward his hallway. “It really is quite a lovely song! Their tower’s core rhythm is wholly swallowed up by other tunes. It flows gently, unrestrained. Even with the drumming undertones.”
Psal pushed aside the embroidered cotton screen and limped into the hallway, but he returned immediately. “Convincing Wheel Clan warriors to allow a stray Peacock Clan to glean in our field? Their very presence…here…on a day we are burning our dead? Cyrt and Seagen’s son was burned here. Lebo’s son. How can I ask them to spare—”
Ephan groaned. He took a spyglass from a straw basket. “Upstairs!”
“Nahas isn’t cruel,” Lan said. “He will not kill innocents. And, look, it is possible these night-tossed aren’t of the Peacock Clan at all. Perhaps some other clan found this tower and now inhabit it. Perhaps this is all useless worry.”
“I had not thought of that,” Psal said.
* * * *
On the tower’s rampart, Psal and Ephan searched the forests and the home fields for the green-brown tunics of Peacock Clan warriors. They saw none. The unexpected tower lacked the grandeur and sophistication of Tsbosso’s longhouse or any of the larger Peacock Clanhouses. Like all smaller Peacock Clanhouses, its tower was built at one corner and attached to a rectangular dwelling. Two stories tall, the top story was built like a wooden cage that served as both a keep for their animals and
