Mirror Gate

by Jeff Wheeler

  “It is my pleasure, Aldermaston Thomas,” Mr. Case said, “to reintroduce you to the prince regent. I believe you were a teacher here when he was a student.”

  “I remember him,” the Aldermaston said with a slight bow.

  Father looked uncomfortable as he gazed at the ceiling and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “It is a bit dark in here,” he said in an annoyed tone. “Darker than I remember. Seraphin, be so good as to brighten the room.”

  Mother’s eyes flashed. “This is the Aldermaston’s manor, Richard. That would not be appropriate.”

  So he was testing her already. She was not going to fall for the bait. “I’m glad you have come, Father. Mother. I have missed you both. What tidings bring you to Muirwood? You know I would have come had you summoned me.”

  “Your grandfather has passed,” Mother said.

  “I will speak,” Father interjected quickly. He looked offended by her words. “The privy council must needs decide on a new emperor, as you undoubtedly know. There is also a delegation coming from the court of Kingfountain that I insist you—”

  “I already know these things,” Sera said brightly, hands behind her back. “I’m prepared to come with you.”

  Her father looked at her in surprise. “How did you . . . ?”

  “That doesn’t really matter, does it, Father? I am very well informed regarding the state of the empire. I have a meeting with the privy council tomorrow.”

  “The privy council?” said Father, perplexed.

  Even her mother looked surprised, and Sera relished it.

  “Oh yes. I look forward to it. I appreciate you coming all this way to get me, but it was unnecessary. I planned on coming regardless. I’m especially concerned about the cholera morbus disease rampaging the City. I’ll be interested in hearing the council’s report on what they have done about it so far. Shall we go?”

  In her mind, she asked if the lights would please brighten. With the Aldermaston standing nearby, she felt confident they would obey her. She didn’t struggle so much. As Sera walked toward her parents, the lights within the chamber began to beam brightly.

  The look her father gave her wasn’t one of tenderness from father to daughter. It was the scrutiny of a rival plotting her fall.

  There was, in his wrinkled brow, a look of determination that she would not be allowed to speak to the privy council.

  CETTIE

  In days of old, every abbey had someone designated as its defender. This person, chosen by the Aldermaston, was allowed to bear arms and evict those who would violate the peace. It has been several generations since that practice was abandoned. The closest person to that role that I now have is the pilot of the abbey’s zephyr. His name is Mr. Neal. Per the advice of Sera’s advocate, I asked Mr. Neal to look around the village for evidence of a newcomer, a stranger in the village. Many have seen this scarred stranger and wondered at him. No one knows where he is staying or why he is here. I fear the abbey’s defenses may have been breached by an agent of one of the ministries.

  —Thomas Abraham, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey

  CHAPTER NINE

  ALONE

  After Cettie’s last class of the day, advanced mathematics, she remained behind to help tidy the room. The melancholy of Sera’s departure the previous day had tormented her keenly. It was expected that her friend would be gone for a week or two before returning to take the Test, and so Cettie had the small dormitory to herself. She resolved to seek out Anna and spend more time with her almost-sister.

  “You are so good to stay and help,” said Mrs. Romrell in a kindly way. She had been teaching at Muirwood for many years. Her husband also taught in the Mysteries of Wind, and Cettie enjoyed both of their classes.

  “I’m glad to do it,” Cettie replied as she straightened the stools beneath the desks. The other students had already left, leaving the two of them alone.

  “I am going to miss you when you leave,” Mrs. Romrell said. “I thought you might have left with Miss Fitzempress, yet you stayed.” It was phrased as a statement, but there was a tone of curiosity in her voice.

  Cettie glanced her way, feeling her cheeks grow warm. Mrs. Romrell was the kind of teacher who treated all students equally, regardless of their background. It was one of the many reasons Cettie admired her. “I don’t really belong at Lockhaven” was all she said in reply.

  Mrs. Romrell went about her work quietly for a while, arranging her notes in her leather satchel. “Cettie,” she finally said. “Do you have a place to go after you finish here? I don’t mean to pry, and I’m sure Minister Fitzroy has already arranged things for you . . . I just hadn’t heard.”

  Cettie bit her lip. Her cheeks were flushing even more. She didn’t know what to say. The only arrangement was for her to return to Fog Willows indefinitely. That would leave her alone with Stephen and Phinia, and she had never grown close to either of them. What would Cettie do there? How would she fill her days? She longed to take the knowledge she had gained and put it to use somewhere.

  “Have I upset you?” Mrs. Romrell asked.

  “No,” Cettie stammered hastily. “My situation is complicated. I do not have a place arranged for me yet, Mrs. Romrell.”

  Her teacher looked sympathetic. “I wondered if that might be the case. Cettie, you are one of the most capable and gifted students I’ve ever taught. One of my past students is a young mother living in a floating manor in Wellton. Her husband works for the Ministry of Wind and travels frequently. She is in need of a governess, someone who would be patient with her small children. I’ve had several students in mind for the position, but your name kept coming to me. I don’t wish to intrude on your affairs, but if you would be interested in learning more about it, I believe the position is still open.” She gave Cettie a hopeful smile.

  Gratitude swelled in Cettie’s heart. Someone she valued had noticed her need and offered to help. She pushed in the last stool and blinked quickly, trying not to weep.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Romrell. It means so much to me that you’d . . . that you’d consider someone like me.”

  Mrs. Romrell approached her and touched her arm gently. “I don’t mean to overstep, Cettie. Perhaps the minister has something in mind for you. This epidemic is keeping him a very busy man, no doubt. I just wanted you to know that you have impressed me and other teachers here. We all want what is best for you. Remember that you have friends here. I could even see you teaching at Muirwood someday. Once you have gained some experience in the world, you might find yourself back here to teach others.”

  Cettie gave her a hug and offered her thanks again. “I will talk with my guardian about it.”

  “You do that,” Mrs. Romrell said, patting her shoulder. Cettie’s heart felt lighter as she left the classroom. She was needed, wanted even. It was a delicious feeling, the butter on a hot bit of toast. As she left the wing of classrooms, she took a moment to admire the iron-framed windows, the stubby shingles that crowned the roof. The grounds were also full of students relaxing and wandering the extensive yards. Oh, how she would miss it. Cettie decided to visit the apple orchard, and she’d started that way when she spied Anna and her friends coming toward her.

  “Cettie!” Anna said excitedly and rushed forward to give her a hug. The two embraced, and the warmth in Cettie’s heart began to overflow. No matter how alone she had felt today, it was only a feeling, not the truth. Anna squeezed her tightly and then turned to her friends and waved them away. “Go on without me. I need to talk to my sister.” Turning back to Cettie, she added, “Can I walk with you? Where were you going?”

  “The cider orchard,” Cettie said.

  “Let’s go together.”

  “Are you sure?” Anna’s friends had walked off, but a couple of them were still throwing disappointed glances back at them.

  “We don’t spend nearly enough time together anymore. And now that Sera is gone, you’re all alone. Come, there’s much I wish to tell you.”

  Anna’s long, wavy blond
hair fell down her back. It looked like it had been spun from sunshine, and, indeed, being around Anna felt like sitting in the sun on a cool fall or spring day. Of all the Fitzroy children, Anna was the most like her parents.

  Arm in arm, they walked briskly toward the walled area surrounding the cider orchard, talking all along the way.

  They’d almost reached the orchard when Anna asked, “Do you think Phinia likes Adam?”

  Cettie was startled. “What makes you ask that?”

  “Maybe I’m being suspicious. She keeps asking me if I’m worried about him going to the Fells to work as a doctor. She gets so frantic about it.”

  “Aren’t you worried?” Cettie asked.

  Anna looked at her quizzically. “Adam Creigh is brave and compassionate. You know I admire him for wanting to help people. It has always been his dream to go to the Fells. Why would I hesitate or interfere in that? Let him pursue his dream. I have every faith he’ll make a difference. He’s such a hard worker.”

  Cettie could feel Anna’s devotion to him throbbing in her voice. It made her uneasy, and not only because of the secret feelings she bore for Adam. She couldn’t imagine Anna living in the Fells. Apparently Phinia felt the same way.

  “I think she’s worried about him for your sake,” Cettie said.

  “Do you really think so? They are the same age, and he’s always so courteous to everyone. I just wish I knew . . .” She scrunched up her nose and fell silent.

  “Knew what?”

  “I wish I knew if he even cared for me,” Anna said softly.

  Therein lay the problem. Adam would never say something to commit himself unless he really felt it. He was gregarious and pleasant to all, but he was not flirtatious. To her knowledge, he had never overtly expressed interest in any young woman at the abbey. His focus had always been on his studies.

  “He hasn’t said anything to you?” Cettie asked softly.

  Anna shook her head. “No. But he wouldn’t do that, would he? I know he needs to be strict with his studies because he has to make a living. It’s disgusting how wasteful some young men are. Many of them would rather gamble the day away than study or learn. Adam is quite serious in comparison.”

  “He isn’t going to inherit a fortune,” Cettie said. “He doesn’t have the luxury of being idle or unwise.”

  “Like Stephen,” said Anna disparagingly. “He keeps pressuring Mother to let him change the library into a small theater. He wishes to bring in performances and actors and actresses. To throw balls and galas.” She winced. “Father has said no, of course. But he is often gone, and so Stephen keeps wheedling Mother. I’m sure he’s a bitter disappointment to them both. His only ambition is to spend what others have earned. It’s not right.”

  It did not require a storm glass to see this unpleasant weather brewing. Cettie sighed. “He’s twenty years old. He has too much time and energy.”

  “I know,” Anna said. “Father wants to see him try a profession. Even something that requires money, like being a part of the parliament. Father would gladly pay for it. But the stage? Balls?”

  “It’s a wonder that you haven’t fallen prey to the same spell.”

  Anna shrugged. “Is it really? Mother is different than her sisters. She is very different than her brother who was so seduced by wealth that he disowned them all. I’m grateful that Father has set aside money for each of us to inherit. Even you, although Stephen and Phinia likely resent it. Why they should, I don’t know, because you have helped increase our family’s fortunes tenfold! They’ll get more because of you. I wish they could see that.”

  “I really didn’t do that much,” Cettie demurred. Still, there was no denying the other Fitzroys’ attitude toward her rankled.

  They held hands as they walked through the doorway leading to the orchard. A few families were working the corkscrew cider presses along the inner wall, and wooden tables loaded with buckets full of apples had been set up near them. Some young men stood on ladders to harvest the apples from the higher branches.

  Muirwood cider was the sweetest thing Cettie had ever tasted, and the orchard was one of her favorite places on the abbey grounds. Whenever she was there, she felt connected to something larger than herself, to the history of this great place.

  She and Anna kept talking as they wandered through the lines of trees together.

  “What do you think Father will do about Stephen?” Cettie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Anna replied sadly. “Just because he is the oldest doesn’t mean he will inherit the manor. Father will decide who he thinks will manage it best. And that won’t happen until he dies . . . years from now. I’m afraid the tension between them will only grow.”

  “What if he chooses to give Fog Willows to you, Anna? The law allows him to decide, just like it will allow the privy council to decide which of the emperor’s heirs will replace him.”

  “I don’t know what he will do,” Anna said, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’m any more worthy of it than Stephen or Phinia.”

  “Which is another reason he might choose you,” Cettie said with a smile. “I think Father will give Fog Willows to the person he trusts the most to look after it the way he does.”

  “That means he should give it to you,” said Anna wryly.

  “He can’t,” said Cettie, brushing away the compliment. “I’m not his daughter. I may never be.”

  Anna pulled Cettie closer. “If there is a way, Father will find it. Don’t give up hope yet. We will become sisters in truth. Now that Sera is gone to Lockhaven, you’re all alone in your dormitory. I think I should stay with you. Will you let me?”

  It was another kindness she did not feel she deserved. “Anna, you are so sweet.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you being alone.” She gave Cettie a loving look. “When I was frightened of the dark, you stayed with me. You tried to protect me when Mrs. Pullman sent that awful ghost to attack us.”

  “It’s only going to be a short while, Anna. Sera will be coming back to take the Test.”

  “But it may take longer than she expects. I see you are hesitant. Perhaps you were longing for the quiet?”

  Truthfully, Cettie was looking forward to it as much as she was dreading it. Sera was more like Anna, more prone to talking and sharing feelings. Cettie was more private and reserved, and she had a lot of thinking to do these next weeks.

  “Say no more,” Anna said, squeezing her hand. “But I will come by and visit you more often than I have lately. Summer is nearly here, and we’ll be back at Fog Willows before you know it. We can share a room then.”

  “I would like that,” Cettie replied. “But there is a chance I may have another opportunity. I only just learned of it.”

  “Do tell!” Anna said with eagerness.

  The almost-sisters spent a delightful afternoon and early evening together and then shared dinner at one of the inns in the village. Several times Anna had tried to circumvent Cettie’s defenses to see if there was a young man who interested her. Each time Cettie had deflected her away from that sensitive topic. There was only one young man she admired in that way, and she couldn’t bear to tell Anna about it. Not when they loved the same person.

  The cook at the inn had done a wonderful job of searing the pork chops, and the spiced rice was so flavorful and delicious that both had eaten their fill before they devoured some of the fresh apple crisp that came straight from the ovens. The harvest had produced copious amounts of apples that year. There was just a little chill to the air as they walked arm in arm back to Anna’s home, where they exchanged hugs and kisses. After the door closed behind her, Cettie walked down the street to her own dwelling. There were some students about still, but lights beamed merrily from the windows of many of the little cabins.

  When she arrived at her little gate, she opened it and reminded herself to tend to the lavender bushes the next morning. She approached the door and willed the lock to open, which it did, and then the Leerings flared to life in
a warm glow. For a moment, she expected to hear Sera bustling around, but the room was still. The feeling of emptiness began to nudge her feelings away from the contentment of the afternoon.

  She decided to read a book by the window seat as she usually did in the evening. With a thought, the hearth fire lit, and the flames began to dance and weave within it. Cettie walked to the window seat and found the book she’d discarded that morning. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands.

  It was then she sensed the presence of someone else in the room.

  The Leerings should have warned her at the front door. They should have prevented the person from entering. That they hadn’t caused a stab of fear in her heart.

  Cettie turned her head and instantly saw the dark-haired man she’d observed in the street. He was already halfway across the room.

  He’d made no sound.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BREATH

  Terror struck Cettie down to her bones—immediate and instinctual. Her mind froze with the panic, her muscles locked, and her knees began to quake. In just a moment, her entire body had seized against her will. The strange man should not be in her room. It wasn’t possible. Yet there was no denying it was happening.

  “How did you get in?” Cettie asked, her voice trembling as much as her legs. She was trapped against the window, far from either door.