The Glass Sentence (The Mapmakers Trilogy)

by S. E. Grove

  “He told me about the academy. That he studied there—for a couple of years, a long time ago. And that you worked there. Not much else.”

  “That is correct. Many years ago, he was a student at the Royal Cartological Academy in Nochtland—the capital of the Baldlands and the largest city of the Triple Eras. You’ve never been to the Baldlands, Sophia, so it’s very hard to explain what it’s like, but I’m sure you’ve read about it and heard about it from your uncle.”

  Sophia nodded.

  “It has many regions, and each region contains many former Ages. Nochtland, where I am from, is a beautiful place—sometimes I miss it so much. I miss the gardens. And how, when it rains, it really rains. And the pace, so much slower and calmer.” She sighed. “But it’s also a terrible place. It’s a place where anything can happen and everything can change.” She shook her head, as if to clear her mind. “Let me tell you the story from the beginning.

  “I first met Shadrack more than fifteen years ago. He was a young man in his twenties when he arrived at the academy of cartology in Nochtland. I was the housekeeper. It is a grand old stone building near the center of the city, with lovely courtyards and covered walkways. I had a staff of ten, and I ran everything—the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry. The academy had perhaps fifty students and teachers at any given time. I think it’s fair to say that I was good at my job.” Mrs. Clay smiled wistfully. Sophia smiled back, but in truth she had difficulty imagining the timid and rather scattered Mrs. Clay overseeing even one employee, let alone ten.

  “I’d already been there several years when Shadrack arrived,” Mrs. Clay went on. “From the first moment we saw him, we knew he would do well. You see, having students from New Occident is very unusual. The professors, of course, come from almost all over the globe; but the students tend to be from the Baldlands. We were not certain students from New Occident even knew of our existence. Shadrack had somehow learned of the academy and was determined to go there despite—you’ll excuse me—the backwardness of his home age.

  “During the two years he spent in Nochtland, he grew particularly close to one of the other students in his class, a young woman from the Baldlands—a very gifted cartologer. After the first year, when their degrees were conferred and they began their apprenticeships, they became inseparable. We all were sure they would get married and leave together, heading either north to New Occident or south to her family in Xela.

  “But they didn’t. Shadrack finished his apprenticeship before she did, and their friendship seemed to cool. No one knew what had happened. And then, instead of waiting a month for her to finish her apprenticeship, Shadrack simply said his good-byes and left. It seemed to me that a part of her had left along with Shadrack. I liked her very much, and I worried about her.” Mrs. Clay paused. “Her name was Veressa.”

  Sophia sat up straight. “What? Veressa is a person?”

  Mrs. Clay nodded. “She was at one point your uncle’s closest friend.”

  “But he’s never mentioned her,” Sophia protested.

  “Well, as I said, the two of them evidently had a falling out just before Shadrack left. For all I know, they never spoke again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Shadrack hasn’t mentioned her because the recollection is painful.”

  Sophia shook her head. “He never told me any of this.”

  “I’m sure he has good reasons,” Mrs. Clay said quietly. “You and Shadrack are as close as two people can be.” She furrowed her brow. “Let me tell you the rest.” She poured herself more coffee and took several sips. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts—and her strength.

  —19-Hour #: Mrs. Clay Tells of the Lachrima—

  “AFTER SHADRACK LEFT,” Mrs. Clay began, “Veressa was slow to complete her apprenticeship. She was not well during that time; she seemed only a shadow of her former self. I think she must have loved your uncle very much. When she graduated, she came by my room to say good-bye, but I wasn’t there. She left me a box of sugared flowers.” Mrs. Clay smiled. “Even when she was unhappy, she was always very kind. Well . . . I never saw her again. I heard her name now and then from the professors, but Nochtland is a big city and you can live within its walls a lifetime without ever seeing most of its inhabitants.

  “Then we had some quiet years. The students came and went, and the professors continued their teaching and their research. I was very happy. Then, about seven years ago, my troubles began.” Mrs. Clay stared into her coffee cup and sighed. “No matter how much you’ve read, Sophia, there are things you don’t know about the Baldlands. There are,” she paused, “creatures there that don’t exist here. Oh, I know they make a fuss about the raiders at the borders and people with wings or tails or whatever else. But those are, after all, still people. There are other creatures that few have seen and that no one understands. It was my misfortune to meet one.

  “I remember that I first heard it on a beautiful Sunday in October. Most of the students spent Sunday resting in the gardens or visiting attractions in the city. I had hung all the bed linens to dry on the back patio, and because the sun was so pleasant I sat at the edge of the courtyard, watching the white sheets flutter in the breeze. My staff took Sunday afternoon off, so I knew I was alone. In those days I wasn’t afraid of the silence, the way I am now—on the contrary. I sat there for nearly half an hour, simply soaking in the sun and the silence. And then I heard it. At first I thought it might be coming from the street, but it sounded much too close. It was the quiet, unmistakable sound of someone weeping.

  “I sat up, concerned. The sound was quiet but piercing; a stab of grief pulled me to my feet. My thought was that one of my staff had holed up on the back patio to have a cry. I went to look, and as a sheet fluttered in the wind I saw someone hurrying away. Perplexed, I tried to follow, but the person was gone.

  “The sound of weeping continued from one of the rooms—I did not know which—and as it did all the sadness of those muffled cries pierced me, so that tears spilled down my cheeks. Suddenly, I was grieving, too. I took all of the bed linens, which had dried, off the laundry lines, and then stood in the middle of the empty patio, trying to control my tears and pinpoint where the sound came from. That’s how two of the girls who worked in the kitchen found me—standing there, crying. As soon as they approached me, the weeping stopped and the sense of despair I had felt lifted. ‘Did you hear that?’ I asked them. They shook their heads, shocked at my appearance. ‘Hear what?’ they asked.

  “The next day, I heard it again—the moment I awoke—and the horrible sensation of grief returned. Before even getting dressed, I knocked on the doors of the rooms to my right and left. No one was weeping; no one could tell me where the sound I heard came from. Still, I believed that there had to be someone who was hiding, sneaking into corners to cry in private. And over the next few days, the weeping grew more constant. I began to hear it everywhere, all the time, even when others were present. And then they began to hear it, too.

  “Wherever I went, the sound of weeping followed, and the sadness began to wear on me; though I knew it had no rational cause, as long as the weeping was audible my grief was uncontrollable. The sound was heartbreaking. At times, the thing I heard wept quietly, bitterly. At other times, it moaned and sobbed. And still other times it nearly screamed, as if subjected to some terrible violence. I had no choice, then, but to accept the truth: I was being followed by a Lachrima.”

  Theo made a noise of surprise. “A real Lachrima?”

  Sophia remembered what she had heard Mrs. Clay saying to Shadrack, on the day parliament had closed the borders, and she asked the question she had been unable to ask then. “What’s a Lachrima?’

  “I’ve never seen one,” Theo said. “They’re supposed to be horrible.”

  The housekeeper nodded sadly. “They are. No one knows what the Lachrima are or where they come from. Some believe they are spirits. Others believe they are creatures from a terrible future Age. There are so many stories about them that it’s hard to know which
are true. All I know is what I heard—and saw.”

  “You saw it?” Theo asked breathlessly.

  “For several weeks, the professors at the academy put up with it very kindly, insisting that the presence of the Lachrima was no fault of mine. But the truth is that everyone—not just me—found it unbearable. Imagine what it is like to hear the sound of weeping all the time—even when you are trying to sleep. Imagine feeling that burden of inexplicable, inconsolable grief. For the sake of the others, I shut myself up in my room, thinking that, if I simply waited, the Lachrima would tire of following me and go on its way.

  “One night that week, I finally saw it. The exhaustion of several days without sleep caught up with me, and I fell finally into a heavy slumber. I woke in the middle of the night to a terrible sound—horrible cries, like those made by a frightened animal. I sat up with a start, my heart pounding. And then I saw it. The Lachrima was huddled by my bed.”

  “What did it look like?” Theo asked eagerly.

  “Very much as I’d heard it described, only far more frightening than I’d imagined. It was tall and slender, dressed in thin white robes that trailed down to the floor. Its hair was dark and very long, and its face was buried in its hands. Its whole appearance was worn, as if it had lived for years in some dirty corner and was only now emerging. And then, as it continued to weep, the Lachrima lowered its hands from its face.

  “I could never have imagined anything so horrible. I saw that its face—its face wasn’t there. The Lachrima had only smooth white skin: skin that showed clearly the shape of its eye sockets and mouth and jaw; skin that looked as if someone had smoothed away all its features.

  “For a moment I was too terrified to do anything. And then I bolted from my bed and ran. Though I fled to the other side of the house, I could still hear its distant wails. When I returned to my room at dawn it was empty, but the sound was still in my ears, and I knew, then, that I had to leave. That very morning I packed my belongings and told the director of the academy. He didn’t try to stop me.

  “Part of me had, perhaps, hoped that if I left the academy the Lachrima would remain behind. But of course this didn’t happen. For months I tried to outrun it, staying first in Nochtland and then in the smaller towns outside it. Everywhere I went the Lachrima followed, bringing me and everyone near me nothing but terror and despair. After many months of attempting to elude it, I finally made my way north to the border. I no longer cared where I went or what I did, as long as the sound of weeping stopped. The grief wore so heavily upon me that I could not remember what it felt like to live without it. In those days I had yet to discover my faith in the Fates, for the people of the Baldlands follow other religions. But now that I know and believe in those fickle, kind, cruel, and mysterious powers, I believe they were setting me on a deliberate path. They had woven a terrible net around me and were insistently drawing me forward.

  “On a day in November, more than a year after the Lachrima first appeared, I found myself in the northern Baldlands, near the border of New Akan. A family of traders was leaving the state, and they took pity on me and took me with them. We entered New Occident at night, and I remember that I fell asleep in the open wagon, listening to the quiet, incessant weeping and watching the stars above me. Then I fell asleep.

  “When I awoke, it was midmorning and the young mother sitting next to me in the wagon was quieting her crying baby. The baby began sucking its fingers and a complete silence fell upon us. I could hear the steady clomp of the horses’ hooves and the creaking of the wagon wheels and the satisfied noises of the drowsy baby. The weeping of the Lachrima had stopped.

  “I knew only one person in New Occident—your uncle, Sophia—and I went about trying to find him. Fortunately, he had made quite a name for himself, and it wasn’t difficult to learn that he lived in Boston. I took the train, and when I arrived I asked Shadrack to help me. He was kinder than I ever could have expected—as you know, Sophia. You have both been very kind to me. With time, I discovered that though the Lachrima was gone, it had left me changed. Now I cannot bear to be in silence. And I find that I can no longer concentrate as I used to.” Mrs. Clay shook her head. “My mind isn’t what it was. Still, living with the memory of the Lachrima is better than living with the Lachrima itself. You see now, don’t you, why I can never go back?”

  9

  Departure

  — 1891, June 22, 0-Hour 54—

  Citizens of New Occident who wish to travel beyond its borders must now carry the identity papers and lifewatch issued at birth, along with an official birth certificate. The serial number engraved on the lifewatch must correspond to the identity number found on the birth certificate. Certified copies by a clerk of court are acceptable in cases where originals have been destroyed.

  —Parliamentary decree, June 14, 1891

  THEO HAD TO satisfy his curiosity about the appearance of the Lachrima, and Sophia had to learn as much as she could about Veressa. Mrs. Clay told them what she knew, and it was very late when they finally exhausted their questions. She persuaded them to stay the night in her sitting room, in case anyone came to the house, saying that they would all decide what to do in the morning.

  The tinkling sound of the chimes above Sophia’s head and the anxious thoughts coursing through her brain prevented her from sleeping. The image of Shadrack being led out of the house returned to her, followed by a vision of a faceless creature, wild with grief. Sophia opened her eyes to dispel the image. She could see in the dim light that Theo, bedded down on the carpet, wasn’t sleeping either.

  “Poor Mrs. Clay,” Sophia whispered. “I had no idea she had such a terrible story in her past.”

  “I wish I’d seen the Lachrima,” Theo whispered back.

  “Why would you wish that? Look what it did to Mrs. Clay!”

  “I’ve heard that if you get close enough you can see through their skin, and that they actually have faces underneath. But hardly anyone gets the chance. If you ask me, the risk is absolutely worth it.”

  “I suppose. But if I have to go the Baldlands, I would rather not see or even hear one.”

  She could feel Theo’s attention sharpening. “So you’re going to the Baldlands?”

  “I have to. Shadrack said to find Veressa, and that’s probably where she is. I think I have to go to Nochtland and ask at the academy.”

  Theo lay silently in the darkness for a several seconds. “Tell you what,” he said eventually. “Seeing as I don’t have papers, it’d be a lot easier for me to get back to the Baldlands if I traveled with you. If you see me to the border, I’ll help you get from there to Nochtland.”

  Sophia knew she could not ask Mrs. Clay to accompany her. Miles and the other explorers Shadrack counted as friends were gone, quick to leave after news of the borders’ closing. Traveling by train to New Orleans, the closest point to Nochtland, would be easy, but traveling into the Baldlands by herself would be a significant challenge. Sophia knew she could do it; she had confidence in herself as an explorer. She also knew that she could use help. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks,” she added, after a moment.

  “No problem. Only fair—you help me, I’ll help you.” She heard him turn over and settle himself for sleep.

  Sophia closed her eyes, somewhat relieved now that she had a way forward, a way to follow Shadrack’s instructions. But she did not sleep. Her mind turned gratefully from the disturbing images of Shadrack and the Lachrima to train schedules and other preparations. She began listing the items that she would need to pack.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound beyond that of the chimes. She lay with her eyes closed as Theo rose from his pallet and left the room. Sophia thought nothing of it until she heard, with surprise, that he was opening the door to the downstairs apartments. Her eyes flew open. She lay motionlessly for a moment longer, listening as he walked down the steps, and then she got to her feet.

  She could hear Theo downstairs. He had stopped on the second floor. Sophia could see the pale y
ellow light of the flame-lamps stretching over the floorboards of the hallway. She frowned, a sense of unease spreading through her. What is he doing? she wondered. Very quietly, she began descending the steps to the second floor.

  By letting her sense of time relax, Sophia could move so slowly that she made almost no sound. Several minutes later, she stood in the doorway of Shadrack’s bedroom, watching as Theo opened and closed the drawers of her uncle’s wardrobe. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  Theo jumped. Then he saw Sophia in the doorway, he shook his head, chuckling. “You’re good at that. How’d you walk down so quiet?”

  “What are you doing in Shadrack’s room?”

  “Don’t get upset,” Theo said placatingly. “I just had an idea.”

  “What idea?” Sophia asked. For a moment she thought he might have remembered a clue, a sign: something that would lead them to Shadrack.

  “I was thinking that, you know, likely your uncle didn’t have time to take his papers and lifewatch.”

  The next moments expanded in her mind to encompass a much longer sense of betrayal. “You were going to take them?” she whispered. “You were going to steal Shadrack’s papers?”

  “No!” Theo protested. “No, I wasn’t going to . . . steal them.”

  “Then what?”

  “I just thought it would make the trip easier if I had them—you know, if I borrowed them.”

  “You were going to take Shadrack’s papers and leave on your own,” Sophia said, her tone hardening.

  Theo rolled his eyes. “I was not. I was going to use the papers so it would be easier along the way and then give them back to you when we got to the Baldlands.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would you need to travel with me anyway if you had papers? Stolen papers,” she added bitterly.

  “Because I already said I would,” Theo replied, suddenly angry as well. “I said I would go with you—we agreed.”

  “Then you could have just waited until the morning and asked. Don’t you think I know where Shadrack keeps his papers?” Sophia’s voice was trembling.