I let my arms drop back to my sides and we both collapsed into the nearest chairs. My other questions about Varion and the war evaporated. This was only Kyle, tangled in a web of impossibility, struggling with his fate. I couldn't conduct an interrogation as long as I sympathized with him. “Is that what you're going to do?”
“What other choice do we have?”
My fingers grazed the cool metal chain that looped from my belt to the pocket of my corset coat. I couldn't risk leaving it anywhere, so I continued to wear it. Somewhere, away in the West, Raserion waited for me to trace that symbol and cast the medallion down at his brother's feet. He'd have to wait a whole lot longer. I made a vow with myself at that moment to destroy the trinket. I would never betray Kyle Kiteman.
“No matter what happens, Kat, no matter what I need to say or do, I'm always on your side. Remember that.”
Chapter 49: The Ceremony
The rain had let up in time for General Deasun's ceremony, and Caraway was shining. The keep huddled directly atop an entire district, held up by multi-story buildings that acted as pillars of support. The wood, brownstone and brick of every structure were slick with moisture. Rainwater piped from the rooftop gutters and trailed down buttresses like threads of spider silk. Dusk was young, and a soft blush crept up the western edge of the cold, clear sky.
We were at the heart of Caraway: the vast ground-level courtyard at the center of the keep. And so was everyone else. The square was coursing with citizens and soldiers, all easily differentiated by the shade of their clothes. Mechanical lifts raised nobles and soldiers up to the keep's long wrap-around balconies. High above, they leaned over thick bronze-and-stone rails and watched through binocular goggles. The entire city had come to witness the ceremony. A curtain of shadows had fallen over the square lawn, cast by the towering bulk of the keep and the retreating sun, but light was everywhere. Colored lanterns bobbed across the field on rotating tracks, held up by flag posts that rippled with vivid strips of cloth.
Mid-courtyard, a wooden stage shaped like a layered cake served as a platform for a skilled orchestra. I could only hear the music faintly beneath the murmur of thousands of people.
We stood with the prince's entourage atop a two-story stone balcony that attached to the keep by tunneling stairways and mechanical lifts, and to the ground by curving ramps. On the right end of the balcony were Carmine and Rune, with me in the middle, and a whole slew of soldiers behind us. General Deasun's extended family took up the left side, looking a little more ecstatic than proud. I doubted that class elevations like this were a common occurrence. When Deasun was elevated to Lord, his entire family was granted nobility. Hussar Prie was among them, smiling and sneaking sips from her flask.
I wore a bronze gown with skirts that were layered enough to keep me warm. At least the surrounding keep and lower city blocked out most of the coastal wind. Down below, there were enough bodies packed into the large space to generate a little heat, despite the winter. My hair was pulled half back, and my ears were becoming too cold for comfort. I had to stop myself from covering them with my gloved hands. The tip of my nose was beginning to feel numb.
Being propped up on a pedestal before so many people was overwhelming, frightening, and exciting to me, in that precise order. It was a new experience, and if I'd learned anything about myself in the past two years, it was that I thrived on new experiences. Seeing the crowd was a lot like seeing the ocean for the first time. It was a moving medley of skin tones, hair color, and clothes of every shade. Children sat atop their parents’ shoulders, grandparents stood with their arms linked. In such an aggressive world, it was refreshing to see an absence of violence for a change. It almost reminded me of Haven, but not quite. There was an edge, a readiness that Haven had never known. Perhaps the peace in the courtyard was due in part to the heavy presence of the army.
Between Deasun's family and us, was the General-turned-Lord, and Prince Kyle, suited up in Varion's sentient armor. I wondered how Kyle was doing beneath that closed helm. He was expected to speak after Deasun. Sadie remained just behind him, patiently awaiting her next command. She wasn't the only monster at the ceremony. A pair of huge mechanical cats sat at the top of each ramp, facing the crowd. Their bronze bodies glowed from within, and churned with rotating parts. I doubted anyone would attempt to ascend our platform with them standing by.
“I am an honest man.” Deasun's voice rang out, projected by radio speakers throughout the courtyard and the city. “It is true that I was born with common blood running through my veins. Unlike our fair nobles of this great city and many others, my ancestors were not among the soldiers of our Prince's first army centuries ago.”
A murmur moved through the sea of people watching us.
“But I, Vance Deasun, enlisted at sixteen years of age. I studied, struggled, fought, climbed and earned my place in Prince Varion Argent's army... two hundred years ago. Many of you know me. Your families have known me, and so have your very ancestors. When I was struck down in battle at the age of forty-eight, my name was not written on the wall of my family's home. The number of my many conquests was not writ beside it. It is no secret that I died that day. Prince Varion saw fit to use his mighty Abilities to revive me. I have lived, worked, and served this kingdom then and now. I might have been born a common man, but our prince has given me the opportunity to be something greater. I thank him for that, and I thank you for accepting me as the new Lord of Caraway.”
For one tense moment, I wondered whether anyone would support him, but soon enough, the crowd roared with applause. Kyle stepped forward holding a bound scroll in one hand and a regal blue cloak in the other. He handed Deasun the scroll first, and when the general knelt, Kyle placed the cloak over his shoulders. The orchestra struck up an inspired tune and onlookers cast handfuls of streamers down on the courtyard.
And not one mention of Headly. Do these people have no curiosity at all?
“Rune,” I whispered, leaning toward him as Deasun resumed speaking. “Where's Dylan? I thought he was going to be here.”
Rune stiffened and would not turn to look at me.
“Did he leave with the ships to Breakwater last night? I haven't seen him.”
Still no response.
Irritated, I elbowed him in the side. That got his attention, and he looked sharply down at me.
“We're not supposed to be speaking. This is an official ceremony!” he whispered back.
“But don't you think it's a little strange? If he left, I would have thought he'd say goodbye.”
By his expression, I could tell that Rune was not at all pleased with me for continuing to talk to him. “Axton does as he pleases. You know that.”
I clasped my hands together, tapping my fingers lightly. Using the Pull wouldn't do me any good. I'd find myself tugged in a certain direction, but my handy Ability didn't describe an end location. I'd be pointed in the direction of the clearest path with no idea how long it would take to get there. Dylan could be in the keep, or hundreds of miles away, for all I knew.
Carmine looked over at me. “Were you talking about Dylan?”
I nodded.
Rune looked up at the citrus sky like it was taking all of his willpower not to pretend he didn't know us.
Our pilot was dressed in a gown the same color as mine, but with slight alterations. Though we were nearly matching, I felt underdressed beside her. “I know it may not seem out of the ordinary,” she said in hushed tones. “But he was acting strangely when I saw him last. Maybe it's nothing.”
“He might be resting,” I thought aloud. “He wasn't completely recovered.”
When Kyle stepped forward to speak, all other thoughts left my mind. If he trembled within his armor, it didn't show. All I saw was a giant, larger than life, convincingly lifelike and yet not quite human. I saw a prince.
“I...” Wick's deep voice coated Kyle's words. “I stand before you, people of Caraway...” He trailed off, and the resounding silence of so many p
eople was impressive. “To offer you a better era. A brighter future.” He stopped again, looking slowly from one end of the population to the other. “I don't need to tell you how ruthless our enemy is. I don't need to explain the daily atrocities they commit or the extent of their determination to strike us down.” He cast his eyes down as though he was reading from a script. It was probably fastened to some part of Wick's inner armor. “In an effort to confuse the West, I have shielded my identity behind a mask. It is a tradition that I intend to bring to an end... today.”
Is he really going to do it?
“I almost can't believe it,” Carmine said with mist in the corners of her eyes.
I couldn't believe it either. We might have been able to steal away and flee before now. Sure, the odds would have been against us with so many guards patrolling the keep, but we could have tried. Kyle was about to lock himself into a role that he knew nothing about. It was a mystery that had not been solved, and here he was, committing to it.
Wick's helm split and rotated backwards, and his chest panels lifted and swung open to reveal Kyle's head and torso. He wore a white pressed shirt, a brilliant vest of blue and gold-thread brocade, and a heavy, navy coat with a thick, folded collar that swirled with embroidered embellishments. In such fine regalia, he didn't only look like a prince– he looked like a king.
I marveled at him, impressed by his resurgence of courage. His speech could have been delivered more smoothly, but all things considered, he'd presented it fantastically. Upon showing himself, the sea of Caraway's citizens, cheered. Three syllables spread like a ripple through the crowd until all voices carried the chant.
“Va-ri-on!”
“Va-ri-on!”
“Va-ri-on!”
It was a genderless roar, inspired, powerful, like the rhythmic sound of the tide crashing against Breakwater Keep.
With Wick's helm removed, Kyle's own tenor fed into the microphone through the many speakers and across outreaching radio waves. He raised his great mechanical arms, holding his palms up to quiet the crowd. “You've seen my face, and I've seen yours. Lord Deasun, myself, and all of you are not just brothers-and-sisters-in-arms. We are not strangers who ignore one another in our city's streets. People of Caraway, we are family and our ties run deeper than blood. Tonight, we not only celebrate General Deasun's lordhood– we unite in the common goal to end this war and to give our family the future that it deserves.” Cheering swelled and Kyle allowed a lengthy pause before adding, “I will see to it that you know peace. Thank you.”
Kyle didn't know these people. They really were strangers to him. Still, what he said sounded genuine. He turned to look at me from his seat in the bulk of Wick's armor. His smile was hopeful, vulnerable, and meant for me. I nodded to him, knowing without spoken words that he wondered if I'd thought he'd done okay.
You did better than I would have.
The sunset was the color of rosy water lilies on a darkening pond. Flocks of birds soared overhead, returning to their nighttime sanctuaries. Just as I'd taken in a deep breath, savoring the relative success of our task, the booming sound of cannon-fire nearly stopped my heart. I jumped visibly, and in the corner of my vision, I saw that Kyle did too. Rune reached out to touch my wrist. He didn't seem at all concerned.
“It's only the fireworks.” He was clearly amused with my reaction.
“Fire works?” I was confused but I didn't need to wait long for an explanation. There was an explosion of light overhead, and before me or Kyle could flee from the perceived attack, a bloom of sparkling red light showered down from the sky and disappeared. Another set of cannon-fire shots deafened my ears, and bursts of glittering blue and gold light rained down. I'd never seen anything like it.
Carmine took one look at Kyle's wide-eyed wonder and began to chuckle under her breath. I almost laughed, myself. It sounded scary but it was perfectly safe. No one else seemed rattled by the display.
Another pop, and I winced at the sound. A web of green light crackled over us, and it was so large I thought it would land on our heads for certain. It dissolved in a flurry of golden fireflies.
The orchestra played an uplifting song, and people in the crowd had begun to dance.
“Gravity, it's beautiful!” I said, barely able to pry my eyes away from the lights in the sky. “And so loud!”
Rune's grin showed his white teeth, and his eyes creased at the corners. He was laughing at me! I pushed myself up onto my toes, tugging him down low enough so that I could kiss that infuriatingly perfect dimple of his.
“What?” I said, struggling to compete with the volume of the celebration. “Don't tell me I can't kiss you after the ceremony. This is the North. They do that sort of thing here!”
“I'm not complaining.” He waited for another burst to pass before speaking. “If you like these now, you should see them in the dead of night.”
“I'd like to,” I said dreamily, staring up at the fireworks. Boom, pop, shower. Boom, pop, shower. Boom, boom, boom, pop, shower. Boom. Boom. Boom, pop, shower.
While I studied the show, I noticed that the pattern had changed, and became less predictable. With so many booms, there should have been more to see. “I think some of them are defective.”
Rune's smile faded away as he noted the rhythm. I could see dim flashes of light beyond one end of the Keep. The cannons were firing, but some of the fireworks were missing. I saw the wind escape his lungs as he reached some kind of conclusion in his mind. He suddenly plunged past me, dodged Carmine and rushed for Kyle and Deasun.
The royal guards stopped his progress, telling him to slow down.
“General!” Rune shouted over the noise, craning to see past the guards that blocked him. “Lord Deasun! The fireworks are masking cannon-fire! The city is under attack!”
Kyle turned sharply to face Rune. “What?”
Deasun had barely heard him, but seemed to catch onto the last portion of his statement. “I don't think that–”
All at once, a siren began to wail through the city, and even the crowd quieted to listen. There was one more boom, no fireworks followed. A bullet ricocheted off of Wick's shoulder guard and struck a soldier behind us. Kyle staggered backward, unharmed but afraid. His armor closed up around him, hiding his body and protecting him on all sides. Deasun had begun to bellow orders. There were screams. I searched for the bullet's origin and found the orchestra, standing atop their multi-tiered stage. They'd thrown their instruments down and taken up rifles. Even as I watched them, they stomped onto the wooden platforms, and leaped into the crowd. Altered by some mechanism, the platforms buckled, folded and fell from their hinges. The panels fell away to reveal the last thing I'd ever wanted to see again.
I don't know if I said the words aloud, if I'd thought them, or if they'd simply escaped, abandoning me to my fate. It didn't matter if no one heard me because everyone saw what I did, and we only had moments to live.
“It's a Monarch.”
Chapter 50: Warmachine
The weapon was the size of a small cottage, and glossy black, like oil had been spilled all over it. Pipes fanned out from its sides, belching steam. Tubes and cords belted across its midsection, severing the chains and bearings and wheels from the closed upper deck. It looked like a bloated tick, with low, brassy pipe wings that were far too small for its girth. I didn't doubt the pipes were purposely cut in the shape of butterfly wings. It was like a cruel joke. Painted on the nose of the machine was a copper monarch butterfly. It was upside down and bleeding oil and rust.
Most disturbing was the foggy glass tube that plunged out of the vehicle like a single horn. The silhouette of a person was thrashing within. It was her. The final member of Paperglass. Barry Block's only living companion. A Lodestone, ready to be used as fuel in the one creation that all of history had feared most.
Chaos spread like wildfire. Kyle's guards closed around him like they were magnetized. Deasun was shouting and pointing. Our platform was crowded, and the soldiers couldn't move asi
de fast enough to open an escape route into the keep. Below, the panicked crowd fled in all directions. When one person fell, they'd topple another, and another, until entire sections of people flattened. Then the crowd would surge again, trampling those who had fallen. From our raised balcony, I could see it all. I even spotted a few members of the “orchestra” shooting their weapons into the crowd.
All the while, cannons were firing on the city, and the Monarch was purring. At first, the sound was barely audible, but it rose with smooth intensity.
Why are they running? The Monarch is already firing, and if it's anything like the draining device, after three pulses, it will strike out a mile in every direction. Do they really think they can get away fast enough?
This war machine was the reason my people fled into Haven, sealing themselves off from their war-torn cousins, locking themselves away so that they might forget the atrocities that they had been victim to. One Lodestone, drained to gray mummification could provide that device the energy it would need to emit a shockwave so large, it would cause everyone with the slightest hint of Ability to combust. How badly would it hurt to explode?
Rune looked as resigned as I felt. Though we were being jostled on all sides, he reached down to touch my hair and cup my cheek. His smile was gentle and fond. “I couldn't have asked for anything more.”
Captivated by the look in his eyes, I felt my own surrender. I'd been so safe in Haven, so blissfully sheltered, I wasn't at all prepared for the harsh reality of the Outside World, but for all the fear that had spurred my survival, I felt strangely at peace now. I hadn't expected that.
Deasun and his soldiers took Kyle and burrowed their way into the keep tunnel. Carmine and Sadie hastily followed.
I wrapped my arm around his and let my palm soak up the warmth of his hand. “If there was one chance in a million that you could save us all, would you take it and risk dying alone in failure? Or would you spend your last living breaths with the person most special to you?”
War of the Princes 03: Monarch Page 30
