Alone, Layanna remained standing.

The circle of Navy troops closed in. Their guns seemed huge.

“Submit!” called a voice from among the Navy personnel, and their ranks parted to reveal a severe-looking officer. “Do not resist.”

In answer, the air shimmered around Layanna, and strange colors began to dance along street and cars.

“Now!” the officer shouted.

Figures emerged wearing a different sort of armor and carrying long, faintly translucent whips that dripped moisture and stank of otherworldly poison. A full dozen men and women bore the whips, and they completely encircled Layanna, closing in fast. This was why they’d arranged the deception, Avery realized: so they could block her off from the sea and employ the whips, which Sheridan must have ordered for them. They knew the sea was the source of Layanna’s strength and that if they had revealed themselves too soon she would not have allowed herself to move away from it. But how had they known she was here?

Tires squealed and a solid line of vehicles rushed up the street. Guns fired overhead. The thunder of a tank boomed.

Army vehicles, Avery saw, over twenty of them, transports and jeeps, and several tanks, too. They barreled onto the scene, smoke boiling from their exhaust pipes and guns, soldiers firing into the air from running boards and exposed seats. They were only warning shots, but that could change in a heartbeat.

“Fall back!” the Navy officer shouted.

The Navy troops, including the ones with the blurwhips, backed off, and the Army vehicles screeched to a halt. Soldiers erupted from the transports and arrayed against the outnumbered Navy storm troopers.

“Come with us,” a woman said through a bullhorn, standing up from the passenger seat in the lead jeep and addressing Layanna. “We mean you no harm. Hurry!”

The Navy officer barked into a radio, demanding backup. It would only take minutes to arrive, Avery knew, with Fort Brunt being so near. Just the same, Layanna returned the Army woman’s gaze coldly, mistrustfully. For a moment it appeared she would refuse the woman’s request, but then she closed her eyes and seemed to make herself relax. The air around her stilled. Everyone in the area gasped and shook their heads, as if reorienting themselves. Even the air changed texture.

Avery picked himself off the ground, then Ani. Janx stood, casting suspicious glances at the Navy troops. They didn’t lower their weapons, but they made no move to advance. Hildra bent and beckoned to Hildebrand, who had scurried away at the onset of violence. The monkey ran up her arm, eye wide.

“Quickly!” repeated the woman in the jeep, gesturing to the empty seats behind her.

Taking Ani’s hand, Avery led the way over and climbed into the seat behind the Army woman, putting Ani on his knee. That broke the indecision. Janx, Hildra and Layanna approached and squeezed in. It was a tight fit.

Captain Greggory, who’d risen off the ground, was glaring from the Army soldiers to the Navy, but said nothing.

“Roll out!” the Army woman called, and half the military vehicles, including the jeep, lurched forward. The half-convoy turned down a side street and moved from the marina while the other half remained to prevent the Navy troops from giving pursuit. It was only when the procession turned again, and the stand-off was lost from sight, that Avery realized he’d been holding his breath.

“I’m General Tav Hastur,” said the Army woman, turning in her seat. Now that she was closer, Avery could see she was not much older than himself, perhaps forty-four or –five, but physically his opposite, tall and spare, even gaunt, with visible bones in her face, her eyes glinting from deep sockets. Her voice was flat and brusque, used to giving orders and having them obeyed. She reminded Avery of a rifle, lean and cocked and lethal.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said when none of the others spoke. “I’m Dr. Francis Avery, and this is my daughter Ani.”

“Hi,” Ani squeaked.

“And these are Janx Corlul Maigard, famous whaler and notorious prizefighter, Hildra—ah, Hildra—and Layanna of the House of Uul.”

“Pleased to meet you all,” the general said, not batting an eye at the last appellation. Janx, Hildra and Layanna watched her stonily. “I’m sorry about your reception back there,” Hastur said. “A little misunderstanding between us and the Navy.”

“Fucking misunderstanding I’ll—” Hildra started.

“I think I understand that much,” Avery interjected. “The Navy’s loyal to Admiral Haggarty. It seems the Army is loyal to the Prime Minister. The struggle between the two continues unabated, then.”

The general nodded guardedly. “That’s about the size of it. But how it got to be this way—well.”

She was just a soldier following orders, Avery realized. Loyal to the government and confused why a fellow leader of the military, albeit a separate wing, would not be. Avery could have enlightened her, but he doubted the answer would have reassured her even if she had believed it.

“Where are we bound?”

“The Parliament Building. Prime Minister Denaris is waiting for you.”

“The P.M. her own self?” Janx said, sounding intrigued.

“She’s quite looking forward to it.”

For the first time since the marina, Layanna spoke. Her voice was not cold, but it was cautious: “Are we prisoners of the Army?”

The general seemed shocked. “You’re not prisoners at all. Why, you’re honored guests.”

They fell into silence as the procession wended its way toward the Parliament Building. The grim black buildings of the Ysstral Empire, bedecked with sinister arches and nightmarish gargoyles, loomed all around, infesting the city with their presence, but more modern art-deco buildings stood amongst them. Hissig was a city known not just for its bloody history but also for its art and poetry, and there were art galleries and taverns where writers would gather, all silent at this hour. Temples to various gods hunched here and there, some quite ancient, dating back to times even before the advent of the Atomic Sea.

The changes to the city amazed Avery.

“It’s so empty,” he said.

It was true. He judged that over half of the refugees that had flocked to Hissig during the war, awaiting transportation over the sea or the means to purchase it (however desperate), seemed to have vanished, leaving their detritus behind. They had erected shantytowns in markets, plazas, alleys and sidewalks, and though the refugees had disappeared, their shantytowns remained. Avery saw a group of elderly folk, retired volunteers perhaps, already out sweeping up leftover garbage and knocking lean-tos down. He wondered how long it would take to completely remove the refugees’ traces. Perhaps forever. Some scars just didn’t heal.

“Yes,” the general replied. “The sparrows have gone back to their roosts—most of them. We’re still trying to get rid of the rest. They’ve turned to thievery, murder for hire, drug trafficking, prostitution. It’s how they’ve survived so long. Many starved to death, or sold themselves or their children into slavery to foreign ships off the coasts. The ones still around found ways to make it, but they’ve had to become parasites to do so. Some were doctors and lawyers back home, but here ... killers, drug dealers, peddlers of flesh, whether their own or someone weaker. They’re a blemish on the city, and we’d like ‘em gone, but the fact is Octung still occupies many territories, and they don’t all have places to go.”

“Octung’s still around, huh?” Janx said. “I thought we got ridda ‘em.”

“Oh, they’re much reduced, but they’re still around, rest assured.”

“I feel ...” Layanna said. Gazing around, she blinked slowly.

“What is it?” Avery asked.

“Something ...” Suddenly she clutched her head, a gasp at her lips.

“Layanna! What’s wrong?”

“It’s—” She let out a sound almost like a growl. “It’s a ray.”

Avery’s head snapped up. For a moment, he saw nothing. But then, appearing from around a building, drifted the vast dark wedge-shape of a creature much like a manta ray, its wings stretching a mile to either side and its long, barb-tipped tail trailing miles behind it. Air blurred around its wings as it moved, cleaving dimensions like a man would cleave ice cream with his tongue, and though it must be flying miles above the city it still seemed huge.

Avery let out a hiss. “I’d hoped they were all dead.”

“There’s still that one,” said the general. “Grand Admiral Haggarty’s favorite pet. It, or the psychic working through it, can strike fear into the hearts of my troops, make them seize up or even go mad. Some just fall to the ground. That’s when Haggarty’s troops attack, when we’re helpless.”

“Can’t believe there’s open fighting between the Army and the Navy,” Janx said.

“It was rare until recently, but the incidences are increasing. Soon it will be all-out war.”

To Layanna, Avery said, “Are you all right?”