Read Thousandth Night for Free Online

“All this because of a maze,
Fescue? I never had you down as quite that bad a loser.”
    “You
have no idea what is at stake,” he repeated. “Change is coming,
Campion—violent, sudden change. The only thing that will hold the line together
is self-sacrifice.”
    “Is
this about the Great Work?” I asked.
    “It’s
about duty,” he said. “Something you seem incapable of grasping.” He looked
back at my maze, as it willing it to crumble to dust. “Keep playing with your
toys, Campion. Fritter away your days in idleness and dissipation. Leave the
important things to the rest of us.”
    Fescue
stalked off. I stood blinking, regretting the fact that I had mentioned the
Great Work. Now my interest in it was known to at least one Advocate.
    A
hand touched my shoulder. “I see the old fart’s giving you a hard time again.”
    It
was Samphire, pushing into my personal space. Normally I would have edged away,
but for once I relaxed in his presence, glad to unburden myself.
    “I
don’t think he was thrilled about the Mood Maze,” I said.
    “Don’t
take it personally. He’s been acting odd for weeks, giving everyone hard
stares. What’s his problem?”
    “Fescue
doesn’t like me spending time with Purslane.”
    “Only
because the craggy bastard couldn’t get a shag out of her.”
    “I
think there’s a bit more to it than that. Fescue’s mixed up in something. You
know what I mean, don’t you.”
    Samphire
kept his voice low. “No idea at all. Other than that it’s a work and
it’s great. Are you any more clued up about it than me?”
    “I
doubt it,” I said. “But whatever it is, Fescue think it’s a lot more important
than the kind of lazy, self-indulgent things Purslane and I tend to get up to.”
    “Has
he tried to rope you in?”
    “Not
sure. I can’t work out whether he totally disapproves of me on every level, or
whether he’s just bitterly disappointed that I waste so much potential talent.”
    “Well,
I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. Fescue’s just a wasted old bore. His strand
didn’t exactly set the island ringing, did it?”
    “Nor
did mine.”
    “Difference
is Fescue obviously expected more. Between you and me . ..” Samphire hesitated
and looked around. “I think he was just a tiny bit economical with the facts.”
    I
frowned. “You’re saying he fiddled his strand?”
    “A
few details here and there. We came close to meeting around the Hesperus Veil:
near enough to exchange recognition protocols.”
    I
nodded. There’d been a supernova near the Hesperus Veil, and a number of us had
planned close approaches to it. “That’s not enough to prove that he lied,
though.”
    “No,”
Samphire said. “But according to his strand he skipped the Veil altogether. Why
lie about that? Because either before or after that he was somewhere else he
didn’t want us to know about. Probably somewhere a lot less exciting than the
places that showed up in his strand.”
    I
felt a tingling sensation, wondering if Fescue might also be implicated in the
Burdock business. Could the two of them be accomplices?
    “That’s
a pretty heavy accusation,” I said, my mind reeling.
    “Oh,
I’m not going to make anything of it. I’ve already edited down my own strand so
as not to embarrass him. Let him trip himself up. He’s bound to do it one of
these days.”
    “I
suppose you’re right,” I said, not quite able to suppress my disappointment.
The idea of seeing Fescue publicly humiliated—revealed as fabricating chunks of
his strand—tasted shamefully delicious.
    “Don’t
let him get to you too much,” Samphire said. “He’s just a sad old man with too
much time on his hands.”
    “The
funny thing,” I said, “is that he’s no older than the rest of us.”
    “He acts old. That’s all that matters.”
    Samphire’s
revelation improved my mood, and I took great delight in telling Purslane what
I had learned. Robbed of their sting, Fescue’s warnings only emboldened the