Blood, Ink & Fire

by Ashley Mansour

  “Noelle Hartley, please take your seat,” Juliet, the Prime Listener, orders. “Your turn to be heard will come.”

  My grandfather tears off his amplifier and collapses to the floor. The golden ministers rush to help him back to the stands. I’m paralyzed with the unbearable thought of losing yet another person I love.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hartley, for your testimony. And we wish you well. I would now like to call Rome, the speaker for the legatee ministers and representative of Stoneleigh, to come forward.”

  “Thank you, Prime Listener,” says a young man in a green robe with beautiful skin the color of the earth. He circles the amphitheater, clapping slowly, but with great enthusiasm as he takes the stage. Soon some of the audience join in, too.

  “Well, well,” he says. “That was a very emotional performance from Golden Minister Tyba. Very emotional indeed. But what if I told you that in her plea, Minister Tyba has left out a few key details?” Rome holds up his hands, approaching the audience. “Details, which, I think your discerning minds will agree, are pertinent to the decision before you. You see, folks, I have it on good authority that Noelle Hartley made a deal with Fell, not just for her grandfather’s life in exchange for the volumes, as our golden ministers would have us believe. Oh, no. Miss Hartley’s deal was for much more than this. Would it surprise you to learn that she also offered up her own life in exchange for a peace treaty for the Sovereigns? A treaty that is already being honored as we speak?”

  The crowd roars as Tyba rises from her seat. “What’s the meaning of this? These facts were not presented to us?”

  “That is because they were discovered only upon Miss Hartley’s arrival,” Rome says.

  “Order! Please!” Juliet shouts. “How were they discovered, Minister Rome? Be specific.”

  “They were shared with us as testimony, Prime Listener. From a young man who was there when the deal itself was made in Fort Numb.”

  I can hardly believe my ears. While I was here in my seat, Ledger was advising the legatee ministers? He’s on my side! I search the legatee ministers’ rows and spot him, just a few seats back from the stage.

  “Very well, I will allow it,” Juliet says. “Facts or not, Minister Tyba, we need to hear all testimony to decide.”

  “As you wish,” Minister Tyba says. “But I would like to remind the citizens that Minister Rome does not represent the majority here, being from the Sovereign of Stoneleigh . . .”

  Shouts ring out from the crowd. “Stoneleigh deserves equal representation!”

  “Equality of the Sovereigns!”

  “Equal hearing!”

  “I will have order!” Juliet cries. “Order in my quorum, I say!”

  “My apologies,” Minister Tyba says. “I was merely pointing out a technicality.”

  “Prime Listener, I find this diversion to be in poor taste,” Rome says. “May I continue?” Juliet nods, and Rome takes the center stage again.

  “As I said before, the reason for Minister Tyba’s most impassioned statement is simple. Citizens, the deal with Fell was not just a deal made with our enemy. This was a treaty for peace, which Noelle Hartley did negotiate herself into. That’s right. The volumes are not the only terms of exchange. Her very life was promised to Fell as well in exchange for her grandfather’s life and for our peace and safety.”

  “Rome, can this be true?” Juliet asks. “False testimony is a crime here in Fair Verona.”

  “It’s true!” I shout, rising from my seat. I feel the eyes of the crowd on me, my face growing hot under the pressure. “Fell was going to attack all the Sovereigns, just as they did Pedanta.”

  “Be seated, Noelle Hartley!” she shouts. “I won’t ask you again.” I sit back down and stare at the floor, listening to Rome’s voice.

  “Friends, I will not hold the floor much longer, except to implore you with one more fact, a fact which Minister Tyba has also conveniently left out.”

  There’s a long pause as Rome observes Tyba in the ministers’ seats, waiting for her to object, but she does not.

  “The fact is, Noelle Hartley is not just a girl from the Vale. Friends, let it be known that she has the blood of the Rising in her veins.”

  Moana gasps along with the rest of the crowd. Hundreds of faces turn to stare at me, all at once. I know where this is going, and there’s no stopping it. I need to use it. If it can save Grandpa, I need to use it.

  “But more than this, friends, Noelle Hartley is the descendant of a Riser.”

  I feel the eyes of the crowd on me as Rome beckons me to the stage. “Noelle, would you be so kind as to share your testimony with us?”

  I make my way down the steps through the sea of whispers and remarks from the crowd. I don’t give them the satisfaction of knowing I can hear them.

  “She doesn’t look like a Riser . . .”

  “It can’t be true . . .”

  “Hear her out . . .”

  “But she’s just a girl . . .”

  “What does it matter?”

  “She shouldn’t be allowed to speak . . .”

  I take the stage, grateful for the momentary silence surrounding me.

  “Tell them your truths,” Rome whispers to me. “You can do this.”

  “But there are so many people,” I say, looking at the sea of faces before me.

  “People? Noelle for the next few minutes these are not people. Imagine, if you can that they are merely stones, sitting silently, without offense.” His dark eyes widen with intensity. “You must tell your sorrows to the stones, Noelle, or else commit your grandfather to certain death.”

  The faces blur into a wall of a single color as I focus on Juliet, the prime listener alone. Sensing my unease, she comes to my side. “Are you all right?”

  I look out at the thousands of faces. “I’m not sure if I can do this.”

  Juliet’s large round eyes soften. I notice they are blue, like Ledger’s. Like John’s.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she says sweetly. “Just tell me and me alone what you wish to say, and I will listen.”

  “I’ll try.” She takes her chair, and my panic rises. I know I am supposed to begin.

  Start! Stop wasting time!

  “We don’t have quorums like this in the UVF . . .” The crowd groans. Start better.

  I summon my courage and speak up. “That’s because we don’t have voices there, either. Even if we did, there is no one to hear us where I come from. Fell makes sure of that.”

  The audience grows quiet. They’re actually listening to me. I muster the strength to continue.

  “Minister Tyba is right. I was a Valer once, though that part of me seems so long in the past, now that my grandfather and I escaped. And no matter what you decide here today, you have to know even though Fell will come for me, I can never go back to being what I was there. I am different now. The Rising has made me this way. Yes, they will come for the volumes. That is a certainty that no bargaining, or deal, or peace treaty can control. No matter what I do now, nothing will change this fact. Fell believes I have something they want. And maybe they are right.” I pause and gather my thoughts. My heart is racing, and I can scarcely breathe.

  “But Fell has underestimated me. Like Minister Tyba, and maybe some of you, they think I am just a girl. Desperate. Lost. They think they know me. But they do not know who I have become. They do not know what I am capable of. Just as they do not know us. They think because they have me, they have my heart and my mind. They think I will cooperate, that I will help them learn the secrets the Risers swore to protect. But cooperation is not in me. It’s not in my blood. It never was. I was never a Valer. Maybe by birth, but not by blood. The truth is, Minister Rome is right. I am related to one of the Risers.”

  The hum of the crowd grows, but I press on, speaking over them into my amplifier. “I am the great-niece of Prospero. You know she died for our cause and left us this legacy. And with that legacy, the Rising is in me. I stand before you today, submitting myself not t
o Fell, but to you. To your heart’s greatest cause. I may be just a girl from the United Vales of Fell, but believe me when I say I am unique. A descendant of the Rising, I was born with blood, ink, and fire running through my veins. Ministers, citizens, Prime Listener, daughters and sons of the Rising, can you honestly say it does not also run through yours?”

  The crowd groans with approval. Perhaps I have a chance!

  “I would sooner die than become your enemy,” I continue. “I refuse to destroy what we have worked so hard to protect. That is why I made the deal with Fell. So I could protect my family and my friends. So I could protect the good people of the Sovereigns. Our common enemy is out there,” I shout, pointing into the distance toward Fell. “The fight is with them, and it is becoming more real each day. I have seen it. Fell has taken my parents, my best friend, and now they are trying to take my grandfather, too. I will not let them take one more thing. Not from us. Not from this world. And sure as hell not from me.”

  I feel the tears threatening to overwhelm my eyes and blink them back. There’s one more thing I have to say. If I could just get it out. “Please,” I beg them. “Let me save my grandfather’s life. Trust me with the volumes. Let me surrender to them, and with my life, safeguard what you have built. Let me help save our future.”

  “Thank you, Miss Hartley,” Juliet says. “That was . . . exceptional. And now if there is nothing else, we will—” A hand shoots up from the audience.

  “Oh, how unusual. We have a question. Please stand.”

  An amplifier is passed to the person, who I see is a young girl in the tenth row. “My question is for Noelle.”

  “Very well. You may ask,” Juliet says.

  The girl breathes heavily into the amplifier. “There was one thing you didn’t tell us. Minister Tyba says you are the reader. Is that true?”

  Juliet turns to me. “You may answer.”

  I take a moment. The pause is not for them. It is for me. So that when I answer, I believe myself as much as they do.

  “Yes,” I say. “It is true.”

  When I get back to my seat, the weight of the last few minutes hits me. I feel like I’ve been speaking for hours instead of minutes. Moana puts her arm around me when I sit down. “You did well,” she says. “It is not an easy quorum.”

  I smile, grateful, but it’s hard to feel grateful when my grandfather’s future rests in the hands of the people of Fair Verona and Stoneleigh. The truth is, I don’t know if what I told them is enough to persuade them to help me.

  A group of ministers from each side wheel out two large glass cylinders onto the stage and position them on either side of the prime listener.

  “What are they doing?” I ask Moana.

  “Those are the vessels. One for the votes in favor of you and the legatee ministers, and one for the votes in favor of the golden ministers. When we are ready, we must tell our votes to the prime listener so she can record them.”

  Sure enough, the public begins lining up in front of the prime listener. One by one, they make their way toward her, and one by one they decide whether my grandfather will live or die. I search the crowd for Ledger, who’s watching from the lower tier. When Moana gets up to cast her vote, I stand, too, to make my way over to Ledger.

  “You can’t leave your seat,” she says, lightly. “Or else they might think you’re tampering with the process.”

  I sit back down and search her face for some indication of her leaning. She smiles, guessing at my thoughts. “I believe you,” she whispers. “I’m going to vote in your favor.”

  As the votes are registered, the vessels begin to fill with color denoting the number of votes for each side. The golden ministers’ side is ahead, their vessel rising golden over the heads of the people in line. My vessel—green—is only half as high.

  I could have done more. I should have argued better. But those thoughts are useless now. The voting continues. Rome and Ledger observe with the legatee ministers. Their faces say everything. Our side is not doing well. It isn’t looking good. Someone taps Rome on the shoulder and points out a group of people about my age at the back of the line. His face lights up when he sees them. So there’s hope yet. Soon, the first of them is before Juliet, casting her vote. The green vessel lights up, registering her vote in my favor. Slowly, one by one, the others vote the same, and the green vessel creeps up to match the gold. We’re tied.

  I scan the audience, looking at the remaining people, trying to figure out which way they’ll lean. My heart sinks when I see them. They are all my grandfather’s age. If the elders side with the golden ministers, then it’s over and they’ve won.

  The last group stops before Juliet, and one of them approaches her. “Citizens, it is not customary to our rules, but one of the elders wishes to address Miss Hartley before the final votes are cast. I have granted my permission for Mr. Benson to speak, given his status as our oldest living citizen. Please, take the floor, Mr. Benson.”

  The man steps forward, his age disguised only by the flashes of vibrancy in his eyes. A woman stands next to him, holding his arm gently. He sways back and forth a little, trying to find the amplifier, which the woman eventually holds for him. He stoops to speak into it, gingerly grasping the hand that holds it.

  “Miss Hartley,” he starts, his voice full of age and memory. “Your grandfather is old enough to remember a time before Fell. A time when our world was a little less noisy.”

  He steadies himself and takes a breath. “But I remember a time when there was hardly any noise at all. When the world was still quiet enough to think in. I am not a golden minister, but I am a hundred and twenty-three years old, older than anyone in our sister cities. These volumes are our last hope.”

  This is it. It’s really over now. The last votes will be golden, for sure.

  “We are falling from the greatness of our past, plummeting from the plinth we ourselves have constructed. Now, as we fall faster and faster toward the open mouth of our disastrous end, I ask you this: Should we grasp fitfully for the stony edge of that plinth? Or, accepting the inevitability of our fall, should we cast our arms skyward with the hope that we may yet find the stars? Because even the faintest, most faraway star seems a worthier friend than a stone when you’re falling. Would you agree, Miss Hartley?” I pause, thinking over my response. “I would.”

  “Very well,” Mr. Benson says, trembling.

  I’ve blown it. We’ve lost the swing votes.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” he adds, turning back. “When you give yourself to Fell, remember: the stronger the vessel, the calmer the sea.”

  My ears prick up at the familiarity of his words. They remind me of our saying in the Vale, only they feel more powerful. Original.

  Mr. Benson steps toward Juliet. He leans forward, casting his vote in her ear. My blood stills as I wait for one of the vessels to light up. Whichever it is, I know it will decide my fate as all the elders will follow suit.

  Juliet looks to me, then back to Mr. Benson. “Are you sure?”

  He nods once before walking back toward his seat. The green pillar glows once, then keeps glowing as the other elders each cast their votes. But the level barely moves.

  The two pillars are so close, it’s impossible to make out which side has won. The crowd rises with a dull roar as Juliet takes the amplifier at the center of the stage. Her voice booms much louder than any other heard tonight.

  “Citizens and ministers, I bid you, rest. The results are in favor . . .” she pauses, as though making us all hang on her every word in penance for the results which we collectively have produced. “In favor of Noelle Hartley and the legatee ministers!”

  I feel dampness on my cheeks and search for Ledger in the crowd. We did it, I think, smiling. And then I see him. Gazing up at me, eyes warm with pride, but also something else, too. Something a little too much like love.

  It all happens very swiftly, like wind rushing through the bioslice, carrying the scent of the outside world. That’s how f
ast we move when the final verdict is read. Soon, ushers from each side of the amphitheater bring in a single volume each. The crowd cheers as they bow to give the beautiful books to Juliet, who smiles graciously. Finally, she turns to address me.

  “Citizen Noelle Hartley,” she calls into the amplifier. “Your case has been won. Please step forward to receive the legacy of our Sovereigns.”

  I make my way down to the stage as the cheers and jibes from the crowd hit me from all angles. As I approach, I feel a rush of emotion and can hardly contain my composure. Juliet pulls me next to her, grips my hand and raises it high. The crowd cheers wildly. In that moment, Juliet turns to me, her eyes turning sapphire in the light. “I know you are afraid,” she says. “That you understand what is before you, the violent ends that are to come.” I nod hesitantly.

  “But you must know I don’t believe in the fate of the stars,” she says. “I believe we can choose our own destiny and that this great sphere is just one earthly stage on which we carve out our roles and play them.”

  Juliet lowers the volumes—VI and VII—into my hands. “If you are the one Prospero dreamed of, then you will know your role: the words may have been written, but what you may make of them has not.”

  She stares at me, her eyes widening with a sudden surge of emotion. “Remember this, dearest Noelle, when Fell tries to break you.”

  NOELLE

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Mount Memoria is in a place Juliet calls the Cat-Skulls. I picture something terrifying when she says it. I keep my eye on our time. We spent five hours at the quorum and have been driving almost seven more. As we near the mountains, my panic returns. We have less than twenty-eight hours left and still two more Sovereigns to reach.

  The elevation changes, the RV slows, struggling to climb the steep mountain roads. Just when I think we can’t go any farther, the RV begins to smoke. The engine seizes. Ledger wrenches up on the emergency brake and looks at me. “It’s overheating. We’ll have to get there on foot.”

  I go back to wake Grandpa, but he doesn’t stir. He mumbles something and tries to open his eyes, so I know he’s not sleeping. The poison is taking hold, and he’s too sick to go anywhere. I bolt back to the front of the RV. “How far away are we from the Sovereign?”