Winterstrike Read Online Free

commenting on a particularly inferior dinner party.
    ‘You’re telling me. The city’s a mess. Public transport’s breaking down, there are scissor-women everywhere. They seek distraction, to blame all their economic problems
on us rather than on their own incompetence. The news-views whip up the population, night after night. There are posters everywhere saying we’ve desecrated Mardian Hill, that the shrine
belongs to Caud.’
    ‘Nonsense. The shrine was built by the Matriarchy of Winterstrike, it’s documented, no matter what fantasies Caud likes to tell.’
    ‘Caud’s constructed on fantasies. Dangerous ones.’
    And that’s why we must have a deterrent. Even if we don’t go to war, they’ll find some other excuse in a year or so’s time.’
    ‘If a deterrent is to be found, it will be found in the library. What’s left of it.’
    They’ve delivered an ultimatum. Hand over the shrine, or they’ll declare war. You saw that?’
    ‘I saw. I have three days.’ There was a growing pressure in my head and I massaged my temples as I spoke into the antiscribe. ‘Gennera, this isn’t realistic. You know
that.’
    ‘Find what you can.’
    A fool’s errand. I’d said so when the news of the mission first came up, and I hadn’t changed my mind. I’d have added that it was me risking my life, not Gennera, but
that was part of the deal and always had been: I was indentured and I didn’t have a choice. It was pointless to think I could argue the toss.
    ‘I have to go. The battery’s running down.’ It could have been true.
    Gennera frowned. ‘Then call me when you can.’ And be careful, look after yourself, I waited for her to say, but it didn’t come. The antiscribe sizzled into closure as I
reached out and turned the dial.
    I put a pan of dried noodles over the lamp to warm up, then drew out the results of the day’s research. There was little of use. Schematics for ships that had ceased to fly a hundred years
before, maps of mines that had long since caved in, old philosophical rants that could have been either empirical or theoretical, impossible to say which. I could find nothing resembling the
fragile rumour that had sent me here: the story of ancient weapons.
    ‘If we had something that could be deployed as an edge over Caud, it would be enough,’ Gennera said. ‘We’d never need to use it. It would be enough that we had it, to
keep our enemies in check.’
    If I believed that, I’d believe anything.
    The Matriarchy remember what you did in Tharsis,’ Gennera said. ‘You have a reputation for accomplishing the impossible.’
    ‘Tharsis was not impossible, by definition. Only hard. And that was nine years ago, Gennera. I’m not as young as I was.’ That sounded pathetic. I was in my late twenties, and
making out that I was middle-aged. I certainly felt middle-aged. But I wasn’t surprised when she gave a snort of derision.
    That should benefit you all the more,’ Gennera said.
    ‘If I meet a man-remnant on the Plain, maybe not. My fighting skills aren’t what they were, either.’
    Even over the antiscribe, I could tell that she was smiling her frozen little smile. ‘You’d probably end up selling it something, Hestia.’
    But I had not come to Caud to sell, and I was running out of time. Not just my time in Caud, either. When I looked at my life, the years seemed to be slipping away, lost in Gennera’s
bidding. I’d been indentured to her for a decade now, still knew little about her. I’d had reservations at the start, but she offered a way out from under my mother’s Matriarchal
thumb, a life that promised adventure. Powerful in her own right, she’d protected me against my mother’s temper and my aunt’s bids for authority.
    And all I’d really done had been to exchange one kind of dependence for another.
    In the morning, I returned to the library. I had to dodge down a series of alleyways to avoid a squadron of scissor-women, bearing heavy weaponry. These