by Jeff Wheeler
No one appeared in the doorway, but Cettie could sense her father’s presence. The magic was cloaking him. She sensed its power, felt its threads weaving the illusion—and, with a twist of her mind, she unraveled them. The illusion dropped away, revealing her father standing in the doorway, one hand clutching a pistol.
He stared at her in surprise.
Just as a bullet hit him in the back of the head.
His eyebrows arched and then his legs crumpled, and he fell backward. Standing behind him, pistol in hand, was Aunt Juliana.
“Got you this time,” she muttered darkly, lowering the weapon. Only then did she notice Cettie standing before her.
“I was coming after you,” Juliana said. Her tempest, Serpentine, hovered above the courtyard behind her, its rope ladder swaying in the wind.
Cettie stared down at the body at her feet, the eyes still blinking, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. He was still alive, paralyzed. His eyes were haunting, frantic, desperate. His whole body began to quiver.
“Daw . . . tur . . .” he choked out.
Daughter.
She stared at him in shock. The hate and revenge that had motivated him throughout his cursed life was spilling away now, trapped beneath limbs that would not move as he directed them. Blood pooled behind his head on the cobblestones. He was dying. He was helpless.
Cettie felt anguish seeing him like that. There was no illusion this time. No forgery. He was truly dying. She had no Everoot left to save him.
“Daw . . . tur . . .” he whispered again, his voice fading.
He was not her true father. Not in any of the ways that mattered. But she didn’t hate the man who had given her life. Not even for shooting Fitzroy.
She pitied him.
“Save . . . mmmgghh!” His eyes fixed on her in desperate pleading. He was going into the beyond, to face whatever punishments awaited him. She could see the torture in his eyes.
Cettie knelt and took his hand in hers. She squeezed it as she watched the embers of life flicker within him.
His struggle lasted only seconds more. Then his final breath came out in a wearied gasp.
Cettie bowed her head. She was not sorry he was dead. But she was grateful to have been with him at the end. And even more grateful that she hadn’t been called upon to kill him.
“The Genevese are coming,” Juliana said urgently, glancing behind Cettie. “We must go. We must get the prisoners to safety.”
Cettie noticed a bulge in the pocket of her father’s coat. Her head tilted sideways. Carefully, she reached her hand into his pocket.
And found the Cruciger orb.
CHAPTER TWENTY−FIVE
WIZR
All of the prisoners of the poisoner school were brought aboard Serpentine. Cettie checked each one, inspecting for invisible rings, brands, or kystrels. The zephyrs continued to patrol the skies while the prisoners were secured on the tempest. Before the last was loaded, cracks of musket fire began to assail the zephyrs, which they responded to by rising vertically into the air.
“Get them on board, now!” Juliana barked. “We’re leaving.”
The last few prisoners were hurried up the ladder, Cettie and Adam climbed up after them, and then Serpentine vaulted into the skies. Cettie clung to the railing, looking below as the sky ship cleared the walls. Cavalry riders lined the road leading to the poisoner school. Some wagons hauling cannons could also be seen farther off. Another quarter hour, and there would have been too many enemies to fight with such a small force. The Genevese were clearly incensed at the intrusion into their lands. There would be consequences.
The ordeal in the dungeon beneath the poisoner school had left Cettie completely drained. She felt no connection with the Mysteries at all, numb even to the magic of the sky ship. The fatigue would make her useless unless she kept busy. Amidst the commotion on deck, she spied Caulton Forshee gazing at the Cruciger orb, studying it intently. Adam attended to the injuries of the new passengers. Some had been bitten by the serpents. Others bore injuries that spoke of their poor treatment in confinement. Her heart throbbed as she watched him treat each of them with solicitous care.
Trevon sat alone, arms folded, his look dark and depressed.
She went to him, sitting down nearby, and he looked at her with eyes full of suspicion. “You fought like a Fountain-blessed,” he told her. “You’re not the girl I once knew.”
She clasped her hands together and gazed down at them. No, she wasn’t. She was someone entirely different. “I’m not,” she agreed, “but part of me is. I’m glad we found you, Prince Trevon.” In the past, he had asked her to call him Trevon, without the honorific, but they would need to rebuild their friendship for her to do so again.
“Where are we going? Lockhaven?”
“I think so,” Cettie replied. “What do you know about what has happened?”
He pressed his hands against his face and shook his head. “I know that General Montpensier betrayed my father. He killed my family.”
Cettie shook her head, and he looked at her in surprise.
“One brother, as I understand it, survived. He’s leading the revolt against Montpensier. He married the Duke of Brythonica’s daughter.”
Trevon’s eyes widened. “Kasdan?”
“I believe so. I only heard this news recently. Sera has been meeting with him.”
The look of relief on his face transformed him. “That contradicts what Jevin told me. I . . . I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Jevin?” Cettie asked in surprise. “What did he tell you?”
“That all my siblings were dead.”
Cettie shook her head in disbelief. “It’s not so.” She paused, then added, “You saw him disappear through the fountain with the Water Leering, did you not?”
“I did see that,” Trevon agreed. “It was a ley line.”
Cettie scrunched her eyebrows. “What is that?”
He pursed his lips. “It’s part of Fountain magic,” he explained. “They run through the palace in a few spots as well. You can travel from one spot on a ley line to another instantly. Only the Wizrs know how to use them.”
Cettie blinked. Jevin was a Wizr? He hadn’t just used his kystrel against her. She’d sensed a stronger power at work. Something even darker.
Trevon’s gaze became brooding once again. “He told me that my marriage to Sera was annulled by the empire’s privy council.”
Cettie shook her head. “No, that’s not true either.”
A look of hope surfaced on his face like a sunrise, but his features dropped again the next moment. “And my wife was kidnapped? By Lady Corinne?”
“Lady Corinne abducted me as well,” Cettie said. “I followed her . . . ignorantly. We crossed a mirror gate into your world. I was brought to the poisoner school. The one we just attacked.”
Trevon’s mouth opened in understanding. “I remember hearing about your crossing.” He paused. “I’ve been moved around so frequently, I hardly know one direction from another. But it looks like we were at the poisoner school at the same time, at least in part. Sometimes I heard voices. Once or twice, I thought I’d heard yours. But I couldn’t be sure of anything. I was always kept apart from the others. In isolation.” He shuddered and wiped his mouth. “I can’t believe an entire year has gone by.”
Caulton approached them and clapped a hand on Trevon’s shoulder. He’d tucked the orb into his pocket as he arrived. “How are you feeling, my lord?”
“Most grateful,” he replied, although he didn’t look it. “Which mirror gate do we cross?”
Caulton shook his head. “There is an open rift between the worlds now. Her Majesty opened it. They call it a prism cloud. You’ll see it soon. We’re heading there now.”
“Sera did what?” Trevon asked, just as Cettie put her own question to Caulton. “Did you find her?”
Caulton’s eyes narrowed. “She’s in the Fells.”
Why would Lady Corinne have taken Sera there?
>
“Do you mean Sera?” Trevon asked. “How could you know that?”
“It’s one of the Mysteries, so I cannot divulge it.”
“I’m sick to death of being left in ignorance!” Trevon said. “Your religion is too secretive.”
Cettie worried that Caulton would be offended, but he didn’t appear to be. “I’m afraid I agree with you, but this is also a state secret. Julie wants to know if we should go directly there.”
“Durrant wouldn’t like that,” Cettie said. “What of the fleet?”
“What fleet?” Trevon asked again, growing more agitated.
Cettie put her hand on his knee to soothe him. “Montpensier has brought a fleet of underwater ships to attack Lockhaven. He’s come in person. Lockhaven cannot move without Sera.”
Trevon looked confused, but he must have decided to leave his questions about Sera’s power and accomplishments for a later time because he asked, “But what can they hope to do? Our ships cannot fly.”
“Montpensier has something planned. We don’t know what it is.” She glanced back at Caulton. “Where is the fleet now?”
“It has already crossed over,” Caulton said. “We have tried communicating with Lockhaven, but it is as if they cannot hear us. The zephyrs are having the same trouble. It’s night on the other side of the rift, but I doubt they are all abed.”
Cettie felt a growing sense of dread. “So we have a choice to make. Do we go to the Fells or try to reestablish contact with Lockhaven? Maybe we’ll have an easier time of contacting them once we cross back to our world.”
Caulton shrugged. “It shouldn’t make a difference. We’ve used Leerings to speak between worlds before.”
“Our first priority must be Sera,” Trevon interjected. He may have missed the pivotal events of the last year, but his loyalty clearly remained with his wife. “If she’s in the Fells, we must go there first. The Fells are enormous, though. How will we find her?”
“Trust me, Prince Trevon. It will be much easier now,” Caulton said with a smile.
A hand lightly touched Cettie’s shoulder, rousing her from a dream. She blinked, disoriented, and saw Adam crouching over her. The dream had been strange and dark, but she felt comforted by the hum of the sky ship’s magic. The short rest had done much to restore her body—and her connection to the Mysteries.
“We’re nearly at the prism cloud,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“No, thank you. I’m grateful you did.” She sat up on the bed and brought her legs down to the floor, shaking off the disorientation.
The door to the chamber stood open. Aunt Juliana had told Cettie to use her own quarters for a rest.
She gazed up, a little surprised to see Adam still standing there. “Has there been any word from Lockhaven?” she asked.
He shook his head no. “Concerning, isn’t it?”
Cettie massaged the edge of her nose. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Lady Corinne can intercept messages. Or block them.”
“How are you feeling?” Adam asked, folding his arms. He looked thoughtful, but also wary.
“A little bruised, I think,” she said, stroking her forearm. “But I’ve been through worse.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. Your father was killed in front of you.” He took a step closer, his eyes full of compassion. “He was trying to speak to you. How are you handling that?”
Now she understood. His concern for her feelings struck a deep chord inside her.
“I haven’t let myself think very much about it,” she said. “I share his blood, but he was not my true father.” The memory of his dead eyes struck her forcibly. It brought back a cascade of other memories, crisp from the Dryad’s kiss. Training with him. Wanting to earn a curt nod from him, a look of respect. She shuddered at those sentiments now. Her memories were so sharp they cut her.
“I didn’t want to cry,” Cettie said, the words coming out in shaky gasps.
“Grief comes and goes in waves,” Adam said. “Sorry to have burdened you. I was worried about you.”
She shook her head slowly. “It’s not your fault. It’s his. He may not have been wicked once, but he made his decisions.” She licked her lips, her heart a mixture of mostly unpleasant feelings. “Thank you for asking. That was kind of you.”
He shrugged. “We’d best get up on deck,” he said. Then a small quirk of a smile tugged at his mouth. “I have a hospital in the Fells now.”
She blinked rapidly, trying not to weep. “So I heard. I’m proud of you, Adam Creigh. Lord Fitzroy would be too.” She gripped the edge of the bed, trying to steady herself. “Were you with him, when he was shot?”
“No, I was still at the palace,” he said. “Sera asked me to wait there. She’d had a strong impression from the Mysteries. I tended to his wounds.”
Cettie’s brow furrowed. “He wasn’t killed at once?”
Adam shook his head. “No. He would have survived the gunshot. He asked me to give him a Gifting. Sera was part of it. We knew then that he was going to die, only we didn’t understand how.” His expression clouded with sadness. “When the Espion came, we were all injured. He ordered me to go, to save myself. I almost couldn’t do it.”
Cettie felt the tears running down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them now. The situation had come to life in her imagination. The two men she loved most, facing death together.
“But I did. Lady Corinne killed him in the end. She said something to him. I recognized the tone of her voice, but I couldn’t make out the words. I was outside on the balcony, trying to get away. I saw them throw his body out the window.” He frowned and rubbed his chin. “I don’t know why I told you this just now. I should have waited.”
It was her fault. She’d thought so all along, and he’d just confirmed it—she’d brought Fitzroy’s assassins to Kingfountain with her. Adam had almost been killed too. Her heart felt like a stone. She didn’t think she would ever forgive herself.
She wiped tears on her wrist. “I’m grateful you did,” she said thickly. “And I’m sorry you had to endure that. It’s my fault.”
He gave her a compassionate look. One she didn’t deserve. “You take too much on yourself, Cettie.”
She pressed her lips firmly together, but rather than dispute his words, she continued to dry her eyes. Rising from the small bed, she smoothed the blanket she’d rumpled and fluffed the pillow. She turned, seeing Adam still standing in the doorway, waiting for her.
I don’t deserve your kindness, she thought. But I am grateful for it.
Maybe you do.
Her heart leaped into her throat, and she looked into his eyes in shock. Had she heard his thought? It had been so faint, just a little feathery brush against her mind.
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the door.
Cettie nodded. He let her pass out of the room first. The quarters were so close that her sleeve brushed against him as she passed, sending a jolt through her.
We cannot be together, Adam Creigh, she thought in consternation as she walked to the small stairs leading up to the deck. Not after all I’ve done. You deserve someone who hasn’t made these mistakes. Someone more like you.
Whether or not he heard her, she didn’t know. His expression revealed nothing.
When they reached the deck, she could see the prism cloud looming in the sky, a black void that showed some winking stars in the night sky beyond. A weave of brilliant colors separated the two skies. She spied Trevon gazing at it in wonderment. The other passengers, the slaves they’d freed from the poisoner school, had all gathered around too. Cettie didn’t think she would ever tire of seeing such a display.
On the other side, she saw Lockhaven poised in the night sky, massive and foreboding, its walls illuminated by a thousand Leerings.
She glanced at Aunt Juliana at the helm. Her aunt met her gaze.
“Still no word,” she said with concern. “They cannot hear us coming.”
<
br /> Then a hurricane sky ship lumbered into view, crossing through the prism cloud in front of them, blocking their view of the floating city. Its hulking size dwarfed them. Cettie felt a throb of warning in her mind, an instinct from the Mysteries.
“It will try to stop us!” Cettie shouted to Juliana. “Evade it!”
CHAPTER TWENTY−SIX
INSURRECTION
Juliana responded swiftly, and the tempest lurched to the left, banking sharply. The zephyrs followed them, copying their maneuver. Cettie grabbed the nearest railing to steady herself, and Adam collided with her before he, too, could grab the bar. Cries from the other passengers caused a commotion on deck.
“Caulton!” Juliana shouted. “Get them belowdecks!”
A voice came from the Leering at the helm of the tempest.
“This is Lord Welles, admiral of the hurricane Farragut. You will yield Serpentine upon my orders. Dragoons—escort them to the landing yard on Farragut at once.”
Cettie and Juliana looked at each other in concern. The Control Leering had been used to address both them and their escorts, and from the way Juliana was wrestling with the helm, Cettie could tell other minds were attempting to take control of the ship.
“We are under orders from Prime Minister Durrant,” Juliana said in reply.
“You will obey my orders or suffer the consequences,” Welles said.
“Get them below, now!” Juliana said. Caulton nodded and began leading the rescued prisoners belowdecks.
“Come along. Come along,” he said, his voice revealing his concern.
The leviathan-sized hurricane came closer. Cettie grimaced, feeling the wrongness of the situation. Something had happened after they’d departed Lockhaven. She was not sure what Welles was about, but felt certain he was not acting on the prime minister’s orders.
“They’re trying to pull us alongside her,” Juliana said with gritted teeth, her knuckles white against the wheel.
“Is Lord Welles still the Minister of War?” Cettie asked Adam, who quickly shook his head.
