Free War Master's Gate by Adrian Tchaikovsky

unthinkable question, to a Moth, but she sensed that she had the authority to ask and she was damned if she would give him any more of her time if he would not expose
himself to that small extent.
    She saw his throat working, as though he were choking on something, and then he spat out, ‘Terastos.’
    It was a useful weather-gauge both of his low station and her apparent standing in the eyes of the Inapt. He did not like her but he could not deny her.
    ‘So tell us what’s going on,’ she invited, sitting back down, cutting the tension from the moment by sidestepping it. ‘We’re none of us friends of the Empire here
– no, not even Thalric. We know the Wasps are on the move again, and they must have taken control of the Alliance cities and Helleron fast, to get here so quickly. Perhaps we can even be of
some help. So tell us.’ Following her lead, her companions had also sat back down at the tent’s mouth, and Terastos shifted from foot to foot, uncertain and ignorant, the worst thing
for a Moth. At last the spy’s practicality overcame the magician’s pride, and he sat down.
    ‘It is no secret that the Wasps are very near, their Eighth Army with all its machines. They have destroyed the Ant fortress that lay east of here, and beaten a field army too. The Sarnesh
had hoped that speed would be their ally. Now they admit that they need real allies to carry the day. They have called on the Ancient League.’
    ‘I remember when the Ancient League was formed. I spoke to your people in Sarn itself before the last war,’ Che recalled.
    Terastos blinked. ‘That was not you.’
    She gave him a small smile. ‘Oh, it was. I was different then. I had not . . . lost touch. But it was me.’
    ‘And here you are now.’ He was shaken more than suspicious. She guessed that a very emphatic coded missive would soon be winging its way to the Skryres of Dorax, or perhaps he would
send the news using his magic, if he was capable. No doubt the next Moth who came to confront her would be made of sterner stuff.
    ‘The Ancient League . . .’ he went on, glancing from her to her comrades and Balkus.
    ‘Is not ancient,’ Che finished for him. ‘The Moths of Dorax and the Mantis-holds of this forest here might be united in their traditions, but there was never a league until the
Wasps came last time. I can guess that, once the Wasps had gone, the League ceased to be, each of you back to your solitary pursuits?’
    ‘And now the Sarnesh have called on us, whereupon we, being the masters of the League, have called upon our servants. And something has miscarried, yes. And you know
nothing
of
this?’
    ‘Not yet,’ Che admitted. ‘But we’ve only just arrived. What are the Wasps doing?’
    ‘Waiting, no man knows for what.’
    ‘What do you mean,
waiting
?’ Thalric demanded, leaning into the conversation.
    The Moth glowered at him. ‘They were advancing, sweeping all before them. Then they stopped. They have been still some tendays now. They keep their scouts ready, and prevent any others
coming close, but they just wait.’
    ‘The cost of keeping an army in the field, at this distance from the nearest city, is enormous,’ Thalric pointed out. ‘Only orders from Capitas could allow it, unless
someone’s playing some very complex game with them.’ His eyes slid aside from the Moth until they met Che’s.
    ‘Capitas,’ she echoed: heart of Empire and domain of the Empress Seda. Seda, who had been touched by the same ritual that had stripped Che of her Aptitude, who shared that intangible
mark that Terastos and the Mantis-kinden perceived on Che. Seda, who had added a swiftly burgeoning magical skill to the vast breadth of her temporal might.
    Che stood up abruptly, tentatively reaching out. Seda scared her, and all Che’s newfound power and knowledge did not help – it simply meant that she knew precisely why the woman was
to be feared. Last time they clashed, only Maure’s intervention had saved Che from