Page 9 (1/2)

Harrow the Ninth (The Locked Tomb 2)

Tamsyn Muir

One for the Emperor, first of us all; One for his Lyctors, who answered the call; One for his Saints, ere chosen of old; One for his Hands, and the swords that they hold

Two is for discipline, heedless of trial; Three for the glea ahead;

Five for tradition and debts to the dead;

Six for the truth over solace in lies;

Seven for beauty that blossoms and dies;

Eight for salvation no matter the cost;

Nine for the Tomb, and for all that was lost

Prologue

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EMPEROR’S MURDER

YOUR ROOM HAD LONG AGO plunged into near-co thureatto see—the shutters were down—but you could feel the terrible vibration, hear the groan of chitin on ous claw

It was very cold A fine shimmer of frost now coated your cheeks, your hair, your eyelashes In that srey ser embarrassed you You understood your body’s reaction to the proxiht happen

God’s voice came very calmly over the comm:

“Ten ot half an hour of air-con left … after that, you’ll be working in the oven Doors down until the pressure equalizes Conserve your te as possible”

You staggered to your feet, liathered in both hands, and picked your way over to the co and intellectual to say, you snapped: “I can take care of myself”

“Harrowhark, we need you in the River, and while you are in the River your necromancy will not work”

“I am a Lyctor, Lord,” you heard yourself say “I aestures If you wanted a Hand who needed a door to hide behind—even now—then I have ed you”

From his far-off sanctuined hi his right teht temple with After a brief pause, he said: “Harrow, please don’t be in such a hurry to die”

“Do not underestimate me, Teacher,” you said “I have always lived”

You picked your way back through the concentric rings of ground acetabula you had laid, the fine gritty layers of feh the nose, deep out the ht The frost was already resolving into a fine dewyour face and the back of your neck, and you were hot inside your robes You sat doith your legs crossed and your hands laid helplessly in your lap The basket hilt of the rapier nudged into your hip, like an ani, and in a sudden fit of te it as hard as you possibly could to the other side of the room; only you worried how pitifully short it would fall Outside, the hull shuddered as a few hundred ined the over one another, blue in the shadow of the asteroids, yellow in the light of the nearest star

The doors to your quarters slid open with an antique exhalation of gas levers But the intruder did not set off the traps of teeth you’d e bone you had gummed onto the threshold She stepped over the threshold with her cobwebby skirts rucked high on her thighs, teetering like a dancer In the darkness her rapier was black, and the bones of her right arold You closed your eyes to her

“I could protect you, if you’d only ask me to,” said Ianthe the First

A tepid trickle of sweat ran down your ribs

“I would rather have my tendons peeled from my body, one by one, and flossed to shreds over my broken bones,” you said “I would rather be flayed alive and wrapped in salt I would rather have estive acid dripped into my eyes”