Iron Garland (Harbinger Book 3)

by Jeff Wheeler

  “Hello, darling,” he said to the structure, a half-mocking smile on his face. Then he turned to face her and nodded to the abbey.

  Cettie looked up and grinned at the sight of Aunt Juliana striding energetically toward their sky ship, outpacing the men from the abbey, who’d likely been sent by the Aldermaston. Rand let Cettie go down first, and as soon as she reached the bottom, Aunt Juliana caught her in a powerful hug and lifted her off her feet.

  “Cettie, what are you doing here! Look at you! What a treasure you are. Why have you come?” She beamed at her and kissed her on the cheek before looking up at Rand coming down the ropes. “Who’s this?”

  “Commander Patchett at your service, ma’am,” he said, bowing to her.

  The two older men arrived. “You know this young lady, Captain?” one of them asked Juliana.

  “Of course I do. She’s family.” Turning away from them, she asked Cettie, “Why are you here?”

  “We came to see Caulton. I didn’t know you’d be here. Did you get Stephen’s message?”

  Juliana nodded. “I did. In fact, I was about to leave to go to Dolcoath. I’ve spent a fair bit of time at this abbey over the years.” She gave Cettie a knowing look. “Well, if you need to see him, I know where to find him. It just so happens he hasn’t had his first class quite yet. Come with me.” Then she shooed the two men away.

  “Do you want me to wait with the ship?” Mr. Strong asked Cettie.

  “Yes, please. I don’t see us staying here long.”

  As they started to walk, Juliana cast Cettie a probing look and slightly inclined her head toward Rand.

  Cettie shook her head no.

  Despite the early hour, there were already a few students wandering the grounds. The large clearing around the abbey was filled with gardens and lawns interspersed with small cottages. Cettie admired the view, trying to absorb all the sights. At Muirwood, she could see the hills in the distance, but this abbey was completely engulfed in black pine.

  Caulton was in his classroom, preparing for the lessons of the day. He looked as she remembered him—a dark-haired man in his thirties, dressed in a simple waistcoat and white sleeves. When she entered, he gave her a surprised but welcoming look.

  “Cettie,” he greeted cheerfully. “I’ve always hoped you’d come for a visit.” Then his eyes fell on Rand, and he looked even more taken aback. “Randall Patchett?”

  “Good morning, sir,” Rand replied softly, hands clasped behind his back. He had an almost guilty look on his face.

  “A day for surprises,” Caulton said. “What brings you all to Billerbeck? I had no notion you were coming.”

  Cettie noticed that Juliana had joined Caulton’s side and brushed something from his arm. There was a look of intimacy between them. Of shared affection.

  “We came seeking your help,” Cettie said.

  “Show him the medallion,” Rand said.

  She had the medallion in her pocket, so she reached in and pulled it out. At that moment, she felt uneasy showing it to him. Part of her feared he might take it from her. She dangled it from the chain and held it up for him to see.

  Juliana squinted, but didn’t appear to recognize the bauble. Caulton recoiled in surprised recognition, his expression instantly alarmed.

  “Where on earth did you get that, Cettie?” he demanded.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HETAERA

  Seeing Caulton’s reaction to the medallion, Cettie immediately closed her fist around it and pulled it back. He was no longer merely surprised—something about the amulet both terrified him and angered him. Juliana looked on in concern.

  “The man who kidnapped Anna, who tried to kidnap me.”

  “Have you had it all these years?” Caulton asked in dread.

  “No!” Cettie explained, “We just came from Dolcoath. The monster in the grotto is loose. When we went there, that man—the kishion—was waiting for us. Rand and the other guards killed him, and they found this around his neck. You clearly recognize it, Master Forshee. What is it?”

  “It is called a kystrel. There has not been one in the empire for hundreds of years. They were all destroyed back during the time of the first empress. That one looks quite old.”

  “There is a lot of tarnish on it,” Rand said.

  “Yes, I noticed. This is terrible news, Cettie. I have a book in my study that shows what they looked like. Come with me.”

  Caulton’s study was connected to his classroom by a door. They followed him inside and Cettie stared in wonderment at his collections from his travels. There were Leerings of varying sizes—small ones used to fix seals, larger ones the size of bread loaves. There were so many, each with its own unique power, and a feeling of sweet music ignited her senses. She longed to touch them all, to learn their secrets. A hexagon-shaped one was carved out of a deep-black rock. It looked naturally formed, and she remembered from her studies that basalt formed such a pattern. There was a three-leaf sigil carved into it instead of a face.

  Caulton went behind his desk to examine the bookshelves suspended from the walls, loaded with volumes and some golden tomes that were clearly of ancient origin. He rifled through the books as the three of them gathered around his desk. The small room felt crowded and confined. Rand stood very close to her, but his gaze was on his old teacher.

  After some searching, Caulton took one of the books away from the shelf and laid it flat on his desk. The desk was tidy, but it, too, held a collection of oddities—an hourglass filled with white sand, a small leather-bound book wedged in between a sculpted set of bookends carved to resemble mythical dragons, an assortment of stubbed quills and inkwells and stacks of paper, scriving tools, and a wax tablet. The room smelled interesting, of leather and burnt metal, and it reminded her a little of Fitzroy’s study.

  Caulton flipped through pages, gazing at the book intently.

  “What exactly is a kystrel?” Juliana said, leaning over the desk to gaze at the book. “I thought they were a species of bird.”

  “They are,” he answered and then tapped his finger on one of the pages. He beckoned Cettie over to examine the image. “Look. Isn’t that the same design?”

  Cettie opened her hand and compared the two. The medallion did appear to match the picture, especially the whorl-like pattern found throughout nature.

  “Is this one of the Mysteries?” she asked him.

  He nodded. “One that is reserved for the Ministry of Thought. Any vicar would know that symbol, but not many from the other disciplines do.”

  “Why keep it a secret?” Juliana asked. “You’ve never told me about them.”

  “The main reason we don’t talk about it, with anyone, is to avoid the temptation that comes with curiosity. There are those, especially in our society today, who would seek out a power such as this without stopping to consider the potential cost of using it.”

  “Power?” Rand said with wariness. “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps a little history lesson is in order,” Caulton replied. “Centuries ago, there was an order of women called the hetaera. The members of this order were skilled in the arts of deceit and manipulation, and they hungered for power. You all remember taking the maston oaths when you took the Test. Well, there were other oaths, secret promises, covenants of evil and usurpation. No record of them exists today—the documentation was all destroyed by order of the first empress. The hetaera had a Leering, one that could bind a Myriad One inside the body. It left a mark on the shoulder, as I understand it. It gave them great power, especially over the emotions of those around them.” His eyes were intense as he spoke, his voice throbbing with worry. “The hetaera knew how to forge kystrels.

  “There are two ways to gain power. One is by free will and surrender. The other is by force. Anyone in possession of a kystrel can achieve the latter. That is what makes them so dangerous. The hetaera expanded their power and influence by seducing others into wearing the amulets they made. Through the kystrels, they could sense the t
houghts and intentions of their followers—they could manipulate their feelings and lend them power. Some manipulated their way into the nobility and held kings in thrall. These rulers they then persuaded to persecute and murder the mastons. These were terrible times for the empire.”

  Cettie felt a darkness spreading inside of her, a worrying sickness. She was grateful she didn’t live in such evil days.

  Caulton looked down at the pages before him and sighed. “The hetaera destroyed nearly every man, woman, and child who lived within the borders of the empire, back when it was composed of separate kingdoms. A great curse was brought down upon the people, a Blight unlike any other. Some were rescued from death by fleeing by sea to another land—Assinica—across the ocean. After the people here were destroyed, marauders from Naess came to inhabit these lands. Do you see that stone with six sides?” He pointed to the one Cettie had admired earlier. “That is a Naestor rune. They took over these lands and began to live in our empty cities. They also found the abandoned kystrels and used them to re-create a religion called the Dochte Mandar, which had originated centuries before in Kingfountain. When the ships from Assinica began to return, the civilizations comingled. Some Dochte Mandar even earned trusted positions in the realm. When Empress Maia came into power, she banned kystrels and destroyed the Hetaera Leering.”

  He rubbed his lips and stared at the drawing of the kystrel.

  “So the hetaera are just a myth now?” Juliana said. “There are no more?”

  Caulton shook his head. “Would that it were true,” he sighed. “There are many in my ministry who believe that some hetaera survived and crossed worlds. Why does Kingfountain keep attacking us? They say because of trade. Because of dominance. They say we pervert the true faith, even though we both worship the same Knowing. The kishion who attacked you—twice—is of that world. And he wore a kystrel. This is solid evidence the hetaera may still exist! Or that someone intends to bring them back. The Dochte Mandar used kystrels centuries ago to control the people, so their order is dangerous enough in its own right. This also means the war we are engaged in may be even more dangerous than we believed. If Kingfountain defeats us, there is no doubt in my mind that either or both of those orders will try to infect us again. Our history is filled with the tragedies spawned by the medallion in your hand.” He reached out. “I ask you, Cettie, to give it to me so I might share it with the Aldermaston here and inform the privy council. If there are any hetaera or Dochte Mandar already in this world, we need to hunt them down at once.”

  Cettie saw his outstretched hand and felt a sudden, blinding hatred for Caulton Forshee, accompanied by the urge to attack, maybe even kill him. The power of it startled her. She wavered a moment, engulfed by the brutal and horrific emotions. Why did he want it so much? Was he seeking to use it for himself?

  Although her thoughts tortured her, she overruled them and quickly dumped the medallion into his palm. He immediately stuffed it into his vest pocket, and the feelings she had experienced left her. Relief followed.

  “Thank you, Cettie,” he said with respect. “I felt the struggle in you. That was quite terrifying.”

  “We came here for another reason,” she answered, trying to slow her wild heart. “The monster that escaped the grotto needs to be found. We hoped to use the Cruciger orb to locate it. Rand knows how to kill it.”

  Caulton nodded. “Tell me about this monster.”

  “It’s called a Fear Liath,” said Rand. “Some think they are only legend.”

  Caulton pursed his lips. “Far from it.”

  “You know of them?” Juliana asked. “I’ve never liked Dolcoath because of it. The river walk to the grotto always made me wary. I spent too many years there not to notice it.”

  “No, a Fear Liath is a creature of incredible power and danger. The population on our island alone is three or four times what it was centuries ago, and most of our people live in close-packed cities on the surface. They would do much harm to the populace. I will notify the Aldermaston of the threat, but I cannot imagine the privy council refusing permission to hunt it. The Cruciger orb is right on the mantel . . .”

  His voice trailed off, and his eyes narrowed with concern. He rushed around the desk and walked over to the mantelpiece. An ornate gold stand sat there, the size and shape of which indicated it once held an orb. But it was empty.

  “Where is it?” Caulton asked in astonishment. “I . . . it’s always been right there!”

  A sickening feeling of dread went into Cettie’s heart. She blinked quickly, feeling a queer sensation of satisfaction inside. Why would she feel that?

  “When was the last time you saw it?” Juliana asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “Yesterday maybe? I don’t think about it.” His distress was palpable. “It has been handed down in my family for centuries. I don’t . . . no, he couldn’t have.”

  “What?” Cettie asked worriedly.

  He shook his head. “I had a visitor some weeks ago. An advocate from some office in the Fells. Skippling? I don’t remember.”

  “Mr. Skrelling?” Cettie pressed.

  “Yes, that’s the one!” Caulton declared. “He came seeking information from me and asked if I could use it.” He looked at Cettie, his countenance changing. “He wanted me to use it to find your mother.”

  That news jolted her. Mr. Skrelling?

  “W-what did you tell him?”

  “I told him no. They are not to be used for personal matters. Only by command from the privy council. Very few people have the strength of will to even summon its power. Most don’t believe it will work for them, and so it doesn’t. I know you can use it, Cettie—I saw you use it the night we searched for Anna. But humility must be foremost in the person who uses it. Otherwise, there’s a danger they’ll be tempted to look for something they would be better off not finding. Sometimes the Medium will give us what we are craving, even if it hurts us.” He turned back to the mantel, his distress growing. “But I know he didn’t take it. I thought I saw him touch it, but I noticed it was still there later that day and the next. No one can get into this office without me opening the door.”

  Juliana put her hand on his shoulder. “You are certain you didn’t take it off that pedestal for any reason?”

  “I know I did not,” he answered in bafflement. “I rarely touch it. Skrelling was the last one who mentioned it.”

  And he was missing . . . unless Mr. Sloan had found him . . .

  Cettie’s heart began to sink even more. Her shoulders sagged.

  “What’s wrong?” Rand asked her, noticing her reaction.

  “Mr. Skrelling works for Sloan and Teitelbaum,” she said huskily. “Mr. Sloan came to visit recently to tell us about . . . about a personal matter. He asked if I’d seen Mr. Skrelling. Said that he had come to this abbey to visit about a private concern. He hasn’t been seen since.”

  “I must tell the Aldermaston about both predicaments at once,” Caulton said firmly.

  Cettie wanted to leave immediately, but Caulton asked if they would wait for him. He locked his office door after they departed and even invoked a sigil on it to further secure it. Alas, it felt a little like locking the factory door after all the materials had been stolen.

  Juliana went with him, leaving Cettie and Rand alone. Perhaps recognizing how badly she needed a distraction, he offered to show her the grounds while they waited.

  There were fewer students than there were at Muirwood, but the feeling of the abbey was similar, even though the trees looked foreboding. The small student cottages reminded her of her time at Vicar’s Close, and she felt a familiar stab of longing for Sera. Everything was so green and vibrant, and the air had a wet smell to it.

  Rand took her to a stone bridge that crossed a small stream at the foot of a tiny waterfall. The ground on either side of the bridge was covered with moss, as were most of the stones that formed the bridge. Tall pines and weak saplings filled the ground. Even though the sun was firmly
established now, the path lay in shadow.

  “I’ve always like this old bridge,” Rand said, sighing, stopping part of the way across. “My mind is still reeling from what he told us, though. Did you know any of that lore before?”

  Cettie shook her head and rubbed her arms. “I knew that Empress Maia hunted down all the kishion. If they murdered for the hetaera or the Dochte Mandar, then I believe we know why.” Had her father worked for a hetaera? That thought made her wince.

  “What?” Rand asked again, sensitive to her mood.

  “It’s nothing,” she said.

  “You still don’t trust me,” he said. “Well, I can’t blame you. I don’t trust myself.” He stooped and picked up a stick and flung it upstream.

  “Please don’t think that, Rand,” she said. “It’s not that at all.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me?” he asked, watching as the stick freed itself from some of the waterfall rocks and drifted toward them.

  She bit her lip. “Because it’s painful.”

  He still wouldn’t look at her, but she could tell he was not convinced. “I always thought this forest was full of secrets. It reminds me a little of Pry-Ree.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Why is it that we keep the abbeys such a secret? They’re all hidden amidst forests or surrounded by water.” He shook his head. “What Master Forshee told us . . . Should we not have learned that while we studied? Knowledge is so guarded and controlled in our empire.” He frowned deeply. “I don’t think it’s fair.”

  “Neither do I,” Cettie agreed.

  Then he turned to look at her. “Secrets can be so damaging. Can’t they?”

  The sound of approaching footsteps called them to attention. Caulton and Juliana moved swiftly toward them, and Rand and Cettie left the bridge to meet them halfway. Juliana looked as if she’d been struck across the face. Her eyes watered.

  Caulton’s gaze was hard and intense. “I’m going to Lockhaven at once. The Aldermaston contacted the privy council.”

  “We can take you,” Cettie offered, then realized Juliana would likely be the preferred choice. The two were clearly more than friends, which gave Cettie a bit of joy amidst all the doubt and uncertainty. Her aunt deserved happiness.