Free The Ascendancy Veil by Chris Wooding

Nomoru. ‘I went looking for you. Tracked you to the Inker that did you last. He said you—’
    ‘Juto!’ she snapped suddenly, cutting him off. ‘Not their business.’
    His eyes blazed for a moment, and then an expression of dangerous calm settled on his face. ‘You haven’t been Nomoru en Garika for a long while,’ he said with an unmistakable threat in his voice. ‘You be careful how you speak to me.’
    She just stared at him, a challenge in the set of her shoulders, a scrawny creature with hair in spiky tangles levelling with somebody twice her bulk. There was no fear in either of them.
    ‘How are things in the city?’ Kaiku asked, in an attempt to break the stalemate. It worked better than she intended, for Juto bellowed with laughter and shook his head.
    ‘Were you wearing blinkers on the way here?’ he asked in disbelief. ‘The people are crushed. The Lord Protector has the city under his boot heel and he’ll keep on grinding until all that’s left is powder and bone. Axekami is the lucky recipient of most of the remaining food in the north-west and still hundreds starve to death every day. The only good thing I can say is that at least we don’t have the nobles siphoning all the supplies as we would have done under the magnificent government of the Empire.’ His sarcasm was obvious and scathing. ‘The workers get the food. And the Blackguard and the Weavers’ damned Aberrant army, of course; that goes without saying. But the Poor Quarter suffers as ever, because some of us would rather die than go to labour in those gods-cursed constructions they’ve built in place of our temples.’
    ‘And what do they do in there?’ Phaeca asked. The Sisters had never been able to establish the purpose of the Weavers’ buildings in the cities.
    Juto curled his lip. ‘No idea. Each worker only knows his own task, and what all those tasks amount to, nobody seems to be able to work out. They don’t seem to produce anything. That’s the cursed mystery of the things.’
    He got to his feet and went to the window-arch again, looking out past the veil. When he spoke again, it was more measured. ‘Then there’s this murk. Old men cough themselves to death, mothers miscarry, the sick don’t get better and cuts gets infected. What kind of people take over a city and then poison their own well? What idiocy is that?’
    The question did not seem directed at any of them, so they stayed silent. He turned around and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. ‘They’ve outlawed the gods,’ he went on. ‘All of them. They’re crippling any chance of rebellion by not allowing us to gather and coordinate. That’s the reason everybody thinks they took down the temples. But heart’s blood, it doesn’t make sense! Letting the people have their faith would keep them calm, discourage revolt.’ He scratched his ear and snorted. ‘Some say they just want us to know that we haven’t any hope. I don’t believe that. I just think they hate the gods. Either that, or they’re afraid of them.’
    ‘And has it worked?’ Kaiku asked. ‘Do you think Axekami could be persuaded to rise against their oppressors?’
    Juto sat down again, shaking his head as he did so. ‘You could march an army up to the gates and they wouldn’t dare to open them. It’s not only a matter of spirit, though there’s little enough of that left. We’re weak and sickly. The Blackguard are fed and strong and there’s more of them each month because people join up all the time. They see their families dying and their principles fade like mist in the morning sun. Then you’ve got informers and spies, all working to fill their bellies. The Weavers seem to know everything, whether by the cursed powers they possess or by the folk who’ve sold themselves. As fast as rumours start spreading about a new leader there are rumours that they’ve died or disappeared. And on top of all that, there’s the Aberrants. The Weavers just have to say the