Weaveworld
“Eighty years of exile in the Kingdom of the Cuckoo, worshipped and reviled by turns, almost losing their sanity amongst the Adamaticals, but driven to endure countless mortifications by their hunger one day to have the Weaveworld in their avenging grasp.Now they hung in the air above that rapturous earth – its touch so antithetical that walking upon it was a trial – and surveyed the Fugue from end to end.‘It smells too much alive,’ said the Magdalene, lifting her head to the wind.‘Give us time,’ Immacolata told her.‘What about Shadwell?’ the Hag wanted to know. ‘Where is he?’‘Out looking for his clients, probably,’ the Incantatrix replied. ‘We should find him. I don’t like the thought of his wandering here unaccompanied. He’s unpredictable.’‘Then what?’‘We let the inevitable happen,’ said Immacolata, gently swinging round to take in every sacred yard of the place. ‘We let the Cuckoos tear it apart.’‘What about the Sale?’‘There’ll be no Sale.
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