Ventus by Karl Schroeder

at last Ka was ordered to withdraw.
Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 385
The lock made a very loud click as it turned over. Jordan
held his breath past a tight grin. Had the guard heard?
Apparently not. He pushed the door open slowly.
The brawny man who had hit him earlier was sitting at
a table in the hall outside. He was industriously carving leaf
designs into the capital of what was obviously going to be a
chair leg. Three other half-completed legs lay on the table next
to him.
The knife he was carving with was very large.
What would Armiger do? Jordan asked himself. The
general knew when to attack, and when to be discrete. This
was a time to be discrete.
It was interesting that Ka had been able to move sound
from upstairs down to Jordan’s waiting ear. That implied all
kinds of things about sound that he hadn’t thought before--that
it was a substance, that it could be packaged and carried
around. Maybe you could also choose not to carry it?
He focussed his attention on the hinges of the door, each
in turn, and said, "make no sound," with his inner voice.
Each hinge acknowledged his command, but he had no
idea if they would obey. Gingerly, he pushed the door open.
He could feel a faint vibration under his fingers, as if the rusty
hinges were grating--but he heard nothing.
Once outside, he slowly closed the door again. Holding a
torrent of Vision at bay, Jordan stepped into the earth-floored
cellar behind the guard, and backed his way slowly to the stone
steps that led up. His heart was in his mouth. When he got to
the steps he let out the breath he had been holding, but still
went up them one at a time, pausing after each to look back at
the broad back of the man with the knife. He knew he