Free The Chamber in the Sky by M. T. Anderson

out over the construction. On the other side of the wall rose the ruins of the palace and the Imperial Plaza. Giant chunks of heart jerky were being lowered into place, blocking the view.
    â€œTrue,” he agreed. “I am building a wall.” He nodded his head toward it. The wall was not yet very tall. It was pink and striped. “But the Court will have to decide which side of it they want to be on. Tomorrow, it’s going to take a sharp turn — there . They’ll notice that it isn’t a wall around the palace. It runs next to the palace. But unless they change their tune, it’s going to enclose what used to be called the Easybones Quarter.” He smacked his shins together sharply and kept walking. “Our duty is to protect the Norumbegan people. Not the Empress Herself. (May the sun always shine on her radiant face.) So yes, Mr. Kalgrash, we’re building a wall. We’re raising up a fort to repel the Thusser menace. And we will protect anyone who requests our aid and asylum. But unless the Court sends a petition to General Malark of the Mannequin Army, they will discover themselves to be sitting outside that wall when the Horde arrives.” He swiveled his head and said, “Incidentally, you’re being followed by two young gentlemen. You’ve noticed?”
    Kalgrash nodded. “They seem really friendly. I mean, they haven’t talked to me yet, but they showed up this morning and they’ve been walking around with me everywhere. They’re kind of bashful. They keep on hiding behind stuff. But they must have heard about my exploits.”
    â€œSmiting, Mr. Kalgrash?”
    â€œExactly. All the smiting.”
    â€œGood. But you might want to —”
    At that moment, there was a rumble, and everything rippled. The ground shook. People shrieked in surprise.
    Malark ducked down, grabbed the troll’s arm.
    Both of them squatted behind rubble.
    â€œEarthquake,” said Malark.
    They looked up.
    The shaking had dislodged one of the huge blocks from the wall. It was toppling over. Mannequins were running from the collapse.
    The block hit the ground with a dull thud.
    â€œWhat was that?” asked Kalgrash.
    â€œDon’t know,” muttered Malark. “Let’s get back to HQ and find out.”
    An hour later, they knew. Everyone in New Norumbega knew. Word had come through the radio. All over the city, people were panicked. They didn’t know what to do.
    For the first time in a century, one of the other hearts had beat.
    The Great Body was alive.

    Blades swung all around Brian — he ducked — the instruments of dismemberment and torture dangled from their harness straps, slapping together as the Thusser guard pulled him and Gregory out into the open.
    Brian scampered back against the desk.
    The baby-faced guard inspected them both with his black eyes, and inspected Gwynyfer, who he saw crouching still.
    He looked back at the boys. His tongue paddled at his lips.
    â€œI am nobly born,” said Gwynyfer. “You will want to ransom me.”
    The Thusser looked at them all again, this time with a terrible, wounded sadness, because he would have to kill ones so young.
    He gazed down at his array of cutting and sawing and gouging instruments. He touched a few, as if to remind himself to use them later — where the joints were particularly soft, perhaps, or the bone particularly sturdy.
    He yanked Gwynyfer out from under the desk. Wincing, she rose to her feet. She chanted out, “The Honorable Gwynyfer Gwarnmore, daughter of the Duke of the Globular Colon, who is himself of the Imperial Council of New Norumbega, submits to — your grip is rather clampish — listen, I am only submitting to you insofar as you are a representative of the Magister of the Thusser Horde . Is that understood? I don’t submit to you as a private person. Please state your rank and greet me with joy in your good fortune at so fine