Fault-lines tremble underneath my glass house

-- Sleeping At Last, Earth

Zi Yao took a careful step towards the window. Lian and Lady Yuan hovered behind him, far enough away that he was walking on his own but close enough to catch him if he fell. He made it safely to the window before his legs began to wobble. His mother promptly scooped him up and carried him back to bed in spite of his protests.

"That's enough walking for you today," she told him as his servants tucked him in.

"He's getting stronger," Lian said. "Tomorrow I think he'll be strong enough to have a short walk in the garden."

Someone coughed politely behind him. He turned to find a servant he didn't recognise. The man bowed to Lady Yuan then told Lian, "The foreign princess wishes to see you urgently."

Lian blinked in confusion. "Me? Are you sure she doesn't want to see Prince Mirio?"

"No, sir. She specifically stated she means you, and said she wants to meet you at the bridge. She told me you would know the place she means."

When Lian arrived at the bridge he found Abi pacing back and forth.

"You said there was something wrong with my magic," she started without any explanation. "What did you mean? Is it still there?"

Lian studied her magic. "Yes, it's as if you've cast a spell that's sustaining itself."

Abi nodded grimly as if she'd thought as much. "What sort of spell is it?"

That unfortunately was a question he couldn't answer. She'd need to ask a scholar who specialised in how different spells affected a person's magic. "I don't think it was cast recently. It looks like it's been there for about a month. Long enough to establish itself and not need any conscious thought to control it."

"Do you think it's necromancy?"

He paused and thought very hard for a while. "I can't tell. Honestly it looks more like a healing spell."

Abi made an exasperated noise and resumed her pacing. "I've never cast any healing spells. I don't know how. Unless you count resurrecting Ilaran, and look how that's gone for both of us."

Lian looked at her magic again. There was something about it that he knew should seem familiar. After a minute he realised what it was. "Have you by any chance visited the Land of the Dead?" Abi nodded with a shudder. "It's left its mark on your magic."

"Then it is necromancy."

To Ilaran's relief the telepathic link seemed to fade after a day of consciously trying to block it out. Abihira's thoughts became increasingly indistinct and finally turned into nothing but a faint hum in the background. Therefore he wasn't amused when she did the telepathic equivalent of knocking at his door and then coming in anyway. He was especially unamused because she did it during a council meeting.

What do you want? I'm busy! he snapped. Luckily he had perfected the art of keeping a blank expression at all times. Councillor Osiamil continued droning on in the background, blissfully unaware that his prince wasn't even listening. But then, Ilaran rarely listened to Osiamil. The man hadn't had an original thought in his life and only stayed on the council because his county -- for reasons beyond Ilaran's comprehension -- continued to elect him vatun[1] after vatun.

Sorry. I just wanted to ask if you still feel something strange.

Ilaran considered this for a moment. Yes, I do.

Have you heard about anything that might be causing it? Reports of, well, walking corpses or anything like that?

Ilaran very nearly let his shock show on his face. He dug his fingernails into his palm to distract himself. I thought you said you only raised one! he yelled at Abihira.

I did! Well, sort of. I also raised a few skeletons. But I think I un-raised them again. I'm not sure. It happened on Muirus 9436. Could you check if there's any news there?

Yes, he certainly would check. And if it turned out she'd unleashed a plague of man-eating monsters onto an unsuspecting planet, there would be hell to pay.

Icily he said, It may interest you to know my homeland has a proverb meant as a warning to ambitious magicians: Ahabámín tur tsyeyel, jhalibosz gelčí leknem. For you it should be Ahiloromín tur tsyeyel, jhalibosz čmerg bikvnem.

...What does that mean?

The first one: do not cast spells you cannot undo. The second: do not call up that which you cannot put down[2].

Everyone on the walls watched warily as the single figure approached. Various people offered their opinions on what to do.

"It's just one person. One person isn't dangerous, right?"

"They're dangerous! Get a crossbow and shoot them before they attack!"

"How exactly do you think they're going to attack when the gates are closed?"

"Look, she isn't covered in blood. I think she's a normal person."

They all fell quiet at that remark. Now that they looked more closely -- and now that the figure was near enough to be seen clearly -- they realised the speaker was right. Whoever she was, the person below was uninjured and running much faster than any of the monsters had. When she got within hearing range someone shouted down to her.

"Hey! Did you see the monsters?"

She was too out of breath to answer. She didn't stop running until she reached the town wall, and then she practically collapsed against it while gasping for air.

"Get a ladder!" she shouted when she could talk. "Whatever you do don't open the gates! Those things will wake up later and come back!"

A chorus of horrified exclamations followed that. Someone ran down the stairs to fetch a ladder. They brought it up to the walkway and lowered it over the wall as quickly as if their lives depended on it. The woman scrambled up the ladder at lightning speed.

"I need to get a message to Saoridhlém," she said before she explained anything.

One of the townsfolk said, "We've already sent messages to the capital. They'll send word to Saoridhlém."

She shook her head. "I need to get a message to a specific person. The person who caused this."

The telegraph office of Gradoné, capital city of Muirus 9436, rarely received any interesting messages. The vast majority of telegrams to come to it were about riveting subjects such as "Someone's letting their cow into my vegetable garden" and "I forgot your birthday but don't worry, I'm bringing a gift home with me". Therefore the telegraph operators were shocked to receive an urgent -- and even more unusual, a very long -- telegram for the prime minister.

"Crowd of monsters outside Luinnakied stop Possibly shaberos stop All night they tried to get in stop Send help at once stop Town in danger stop."

When that message was transcribed the workers stared blankly at each other.

"It's a drunkard's idea of a joke," one of them said.

Another shook his head. "At two yaim a word? No one spends fifty-two yaim[3] for a joke, not even a drunkard."

Eventually they took the telegram to their boss. She read it then looked at them as if they were very stupid. "Well? What are you waiting for? Send it through to the prime minister's secretary!"

One of them objected. "But ma'am, we don't know if it's true. It sounds ridiculous."

"Who cares if it's true? It's the most exciting thing that's happened in this city since that boat blocked the main shipping route. And if it's just someone trying to put their hometown on the map, let's help them do it!"

After that meeting Ilaran went in search of Kivoduin. As he expected he found her in her office poring over the household accounts.

"We need to reduce the amount of candles we use," she said. "Have you seen the size of the bill from the candlemakers?"

He had, and he would have some questions for certain members of his staff about just why they'd needed so much light. He'd heard rumours of a distillery heated over candles in one of the butler's pantries. Long ago he'd learnt not to interfere in what the staff did in their free time, but he drew the line if it was costing him money.

Ilaran pushed that thought aside and focused on the reason he'd come. "I need to find out what's happening on Muirus 9436."

Kivoduin didn't bat an eyelash. "I'll have the information within two hours."

True to her word, she came to him after an hour and a half with a faintly troubled expression. Ilaran's heart sank.

"It's very odd," she began. "There's certainly something happening there, but no one seems to know what. The prime minister's office received a telegram this morning telling everyone that hungry ghosts are besieging a city. The prime minister laughed it off. Now all of the capital's newspapers have received the same telegram and are using it to sell more copies. It seems the prevailing thought is that it's an elaborate prank, but some people believe the telegram. There's talk of sending the army to investigate."

Ilaran's blood ran cold. If the hungry ghosts were possessed like he had been, then everyone they bit would get possessed too. The more people who went to investigate, the further and faster the possessions would spread. "Thank you," he said more calmly than he felt. "Pass that information along to Empress Raivíth. I'm sure she can draw her own conclusions from it."

Kivoduin didn't ask why he was suddenly so interested in a planet he'd never mentioned before, and he didn't volunteer the information. Both of them knew each other so well that they know when explanations were required and when it was simpler to do something without explaining. She left without another word. Ilaran reopened the telepathic link.

You blithering idiot! It's lucky for you you're so far away because if I could get my hands on you I'd send you to meet Death again!

He felt Abihira's shock turn to horror. You mean--

Yes. You've unleashed god alone knows how many parasites on that planet.

I've got to do something to stop it!

How?

An uncomfortable pause followed as Abihira realised she didn't know how. Well, I exorcised you, didn't I?

Do you intend to turn into a phoenix and burn all of the parasites?

Yes, if I have to. Have you any better suggestions?

No, he had to concede he hadn't. At least, not unless... Wait a minute. Irímé's a dragon and dragons breathe fire. If you're going to stop the zombie apocalypse, you might as well take him with you.

Lian wasn't really surprised when Mirio invited him to tea and he found Abi there too, looking even more agitated than she had this morning.

"I've made an awful mistake," she announced. "The corpses I raised first? They're still awake and they're on the loose. I have to go and get rid of them."

Mirio made a noise somewhere between a groan and a humourless laugh. "And if you think for one minute that I'm letting you go alone, then necromancy has done something to your mind."

She scowled at him. "You can't come with me! I'll have a hard enough time sneaking out alone without being caught."

"You're going to insult your hosts if you run off without an explanation," Lian pointed out.

Abi nodded solemnly. "I know, but that can't be helped. I have to do something."

"I have an idea," Mirio said. "The two of you go. Then I'll tell your aunt -- and," he grimaced, "my uncle -- that Lian has gone to fulfil a challenge to prove himself worthy of marrying me, and Abi has gone to help him. That might stop them thinking too harshly of you."

There was a moment's dead silence. Abi and Lian stared at him as if he'd started speaking in a foreign language.

"That," Lian said flatly, "is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. In fact it's so ridiculous... it will probably work."

It was an unfortunate turn of events that led to the real disaster. After much arguing with the rest of parliament the prime minister ordered the army to investigate the situation. By the time the first group of soldiers were in the vicinity of Luinnakied, it was evening. Within minutes of the sun setting, things began to stir in the forests and empty houses. And soldiers on the march made a lot of noise.

Yireyi's head snapped up. "Did you hear that?"

Her mother paused in the middle of pouring her a cup of tea. "Hear what?"

"Screaming. In the distance."

Most of the townsfolk had crowded into the town-hall and there was so much noise it was hard to hear anything. After a minute her mother shook her head. "I don't hear anything."

Yireyi got up and went to the main door. She listened in the doorway. There it was. There was no doubt about it: people were screaming.

The soldiers who had stayed at the base went on with their duties and then turned in. They weren't particularly surprised that their comrades hadn't come back yet, and -- since there were currently no enemies threatening to invade the planet -- they left the gates open.

Late at night the guards noticed a strange sound, like a large group of people running towards them.

"Who goes there?" they shouted.

No one answered. Out of the darkness streamed a ghastly group, soaked in blood and snarling like animals. The guards had no chance to open fire or sound the alarm. Within minutes the barracks were overrun.

From the barracks the city of Nihred was clearly visible. Its lights shone like a beacon, and drew every monster towards them.

It took Irímé very little time to find his way around the archives in Viniok Palace. He carefully took note of everything in each folder, added each topic mentioned in it to a reference book he was compiling, and placed the folder in a clearly-marked space set aside for it. No one could possibly put a folder in the wrong place after he was done with it. And if anyone messed up his filing system, heaven help them.

In spite of how boring the work seemed Irímé found he enjoyed it. There was nothing stressful about it, he had plenty of free time in which to write his stories, and he didn't have to work with anyone so he could give free reign to his own ideas. Ilaran checked on his work the first few days and then left him to himself. It was the most peace Irímé had got in his life.

That was why it was a nasty shock when Ilaran came to the archive room looking grim. "I have very bad news," he said.

Irímé looked around at his work nervously. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, not you. It's Abihira. She's set more parasites loose on an unsuspecting planet. I'm going to send you to help her destroy them."

There were several things Irímé could say to that. They included "why hasn't she told me herself?" and "she's done what?". Instead he settled on the most important one. "Why me? How can I help her?"

"You're a dragon immortal, and fire kills the parasites."

When the sun rose over Muirus 9436 it shone on a scene of devastation. Nihred was a shambles. Trains had derailed, buildings were on fire, and blood covered the streets. A crowd, much larger now than it had been before, shambled slowly out of the city in search of more prey.

The city's mayor had barricaded herself into her bedroom when she heard the screams drawing closer. Now that there was silence she risked removing the furniture piled in front of the door and opened it a crack. The landing outside was covered with blood. She opened the door far enough to poke her head out. A trail of bloody footprints led downstairs. There was no sign of a body on this floor.

The murderers must have gone, she thought. Unaware of what was really happening, she assumed her house had been attacked by a band of murderers.

Very slowly she tiptoed out of the room and up the stairs that led to the roof and to her personal flying machine stored there. A dead girl lay sprawled on the stairs. Her chest had been torn open and her internal organs spilled out. The mayor tiptoed past her with a shudder.

The girl's head snapped to the side and she sank her teeth into the mayor's ankle. The mayor yelled and kicked her away. She stumbled up the rest of the stairs and onto the roof. Only after she was safely in her flying machine did she take the time to check her ankle.

The skin was broken. She wiped away the blood and tied her handkerchief around the wound. Then she took off and headed for Gradoné.