Broken Veil

by Jeff Wheeler

  “No, he was relieved of command days ago.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “His disgrace was in all the gazettes. This is an insurrection.”

  The zephyrs had closed in around the tempest. She could see some of the dragoons’ faces. A few had shouldered their arquebuses and were now aiming at Serpentine. But not all of them had fallen into line. Cettie glimpsed the concern, the hesitation to obey the order.

  “What do we do?” Juliana whispered. She looked ready to defy the command.

  The last of the passengers, all except Prince Trevon, were filing down the steps belowdecks. Cettie watched them go. Caulton then returned on deck.

  Cettie stared at the much larger ship with determination. “Maybe Welles allied himself with Montpensier after being stripped of command.”

  “Then I don’t think we’d be wise or safe to board the Farragut,” Juliana said.

  “You would be unwise not to,” came Lord Welles’s voice from the Leering. That meant Welles was listening to them.

  Cettie looked at Juliana. “Do as he says,” she said, but she slowly shook her head no.

  Juliana smirked and nodded. The tempest leveled off and began to head straight for the hurricane. Cettie saw the huge polished length of its side, the massive masts that jutted out like dragon wings. “We’ll come. But where is Prime Minister Durrant? We were acting under his authority.”

  “I understand. All will be explained upon your arrival. Wise decision, Captain. I don’t think you’d want your ship destroyed around you.”

  Adam looked at Cettie, his eyes wrinkling in concern. She put her finger to her lips.

  “I’m sure you have a fine explanation,” Juliana said in a tone that indicated otherwise. She watched the zephyrs, one on each side of them, the other trailing behind. Some of the crew had already been killed in the previous skirmish. She wished she could communicate with those who were hesitating. But there wasn’t time. Cettie unfastened the pin that Captain Dumas had given her.

  “What are you doing?” Welles bellowed in surprise. Had he felt a loss of connection?

  They were almost at the hurricane when Cettie nodded vigorously.

  “Grab onto something!” Juliana shouted.

  Cettie reached out with her mind and took control of all three zephyrs at once, blocking their pilots from the controls. It taxed her mind, but her sudden move had surprised them. All three began to drop from the sky, the dragoons shouting in fear. Cettie felt them wrestle for control, but she repelled their attempts. The Mysteries coursed through her again, the power swelling.

  The Serpentine banked sharply and began to pick up speed. Cettie heard the discordant strands of music from the other ship as it sought to control their vessel. She released her grip on the zephyrs and countered those on the hurricane by blasting their minds with a stronger chord of power. The big ship began to list.

  “Into the gap!” Cettie said, pointing.

  Smiling fiercely, Juliana increased the speed of the tempest. Now that Cettie had released her hold on the zephyrs, the pilots reclaimed them and stopped their fatal dives toward the ocean below. Two of the zephyrs immediately resumed pursuit. The third had stalled in the air, the soldiers vying for control.

  “You are mad!” Lord Welles thundered at her. “We will shoot you down. A tempest cannot defeat a hurricane!”

  “That’s true,” said Aunt Juliana. “But a hurricane can’t outrun a tempest!”

  As the tempest shot past the hurricane, cannons began to fire at them from their nests along the big ship’s hull. Juliana banked sharply, then arced up and above the other craft. The sky ship was designed to attack ships below, especially those in the waters. Its strongest vulnerability was from other ships above itself.

  One of the cannonballs struck a zephyr, which had come in pursuit. The sky ship’s hull shattered, and the dragoons plummeted toward the ocean. Cettie felt sorry for them, but there was no time to help.

  Sera’s disappearance must have been revealed to Lord Welles. So too, perhaps, had word of Montpensier’s imminent attack. Had her theory been correct? Had he truly made an alliance with the enemy?

  It was treason. But perhaps, in his mind, he’d justified it.

  Serpentine passed through the prism cloud, and suddenly all was dark, all was night. Lockhaven gleamed like a jewel in the sky. Other sky ships hovered around the floating city, illuminated by Leerings on board. Behind them, the lumbering hurricane began to turn, to swivel in pursuit.

  Cettie reached out with her mind and quenched all the Light Leerings aboard the Serpentine. She hurled the pin she’d been wearing overboard, lest they use it to track her.

  “Where next?” Juliana said.

  “The Fells,” Caulton said. “There’s no other choice now. If Welles has seized authority over part of the military, then he can stop us from reaching Lockhaven. The only person who can countermand him right now is the empress herself.”

  “Fly low,” Cettie said. “They’ll have a difficult time following us in the dark. They may know we’re going to the Fells. But they won’t know where. We have hours until dawn.”

  “Then we’d best hurry,” Juliana said with determination. “I never liked Welles much anyway.”

  The eastern sky was a pretty shade of violet, announcing the imminent sunrise. The Serpentine had been intercepted twice during the night, both times by zephyrs, but Cettie had forced the smaller ships to land. Her power in the Mysteries had grown as the night waxed on. Her strength and vigor were returning. The little rest had done her good, but something else was giving her strength. Filling up her reservoir of confidence and determination. She glanced at Adam, who stood near her, watching the roofs of the buildings pass below them.

  They had arrived in the Fells, dark and loathsome, and full of memories, but it felt more bearable with him beside her.

  He’s not yours, she reminded herself. Not anymore.

  “There’s Killingworth,” Adam said, his voice betraying a hint of pride.

  “Where?” Cettie asked eagerly.

  He pointed to the building, one of the few already lit. It had been a manor once, and still had a weathered look to it. The lights were a welcome sight after flying in the dark for so long.

  “It has a hundred beds,” he said. “Four other doctors, and a dozen nurses. We could be twice as big and still not have enough resources to help the people.” He glanced at her. “But we try.”

  Proud of the man he had become, she put her hand on top of his and squeezed it. When their skin touched, she felt another jolt of awareness go up her arm and quickly pulled her hand away.

  He looked down at the Fells, his expression inscrutable.

  “That way, Julie,” Caulton said, standing near her by the helm. Prince Trevon, no longer dressed in his prison scraps, thanks to Caulton, stood beside them. This was no royal outfit, like the ones Cettie had seen him in on his previous visits to her world. He looked like an ordinary man in need of a shave and a barber. His eyes were fixed on the Cruciger orb. After their run-in with Lord Welles, they had agreed there would be no secrets between them. They were already at a disadvantage—no need to worsen their odds by hiding important information from one another. Trevon was utterly intrigued by the device.

  “She’s still there,” Caulton said, shaking his head. “I’ve been watching the orb constantly. I don’t think Lady Corinne knows we’re coming.”

  Cettie wouldn’t count on that. She lowered a hand to her poisoner bag, comforted by the feel of it. Cettie had prepared different toxins for the confrontation with her mother. Nothing fatal—though she didn’t doubt Corinne would kill her without a second thought, she didn’t want to kill her mother. With any luck, there would be no need. She had a poisoned ring that could stun someone for hours and a packet of nightshade dust.

  More lights began to appear throughout the city. Many workers arose before dawn to report to the factories. The ships under Welles’s control would have an easier time of following them now. But she heard a soft, di
stant song in the air, and she knew they were being protected by the Mysteries.

  “There!” Caulton said, pointing at a ragged tenement building. The windows were all broken. It was a dark, gaping maw, a place of disease and death. No light emanated from it, but even from this height, they could smell the stench of the place.

  “What is this place?” Juliana said in disgust.

  “I’ve been in this neighborhood,” Adam said, wary. “Marshall Street. The cholera morbus has claimed several victims from this area, so many of the buildings are abandoned now. People are afraid to live here.”

  “That makes it a good place to hide a royal,” Juliana said. The tempest slowed and came to rest above the filthy street. The smell emanating from the gutters was horrible. Even in her life in the Fells, Cettie had not been to such a vile place. The tempest came to rest just above it.

  Cettie looked at Adam. “Please stay,” she pleaded.

  He shook his head no. “I’m not leaving you to face her alone.”

  “None of us are leaving you, Cettie,” Juliana said, brandishing a pistol. “You must get it out of your mind. We go together or not at all.”

  Caulton nodded in agreement, one hand on his hip, the other holding the dimly glowing Cruciger orb. Prince Trevon stepped up beside him.

  Her heart shrank. She didn’t want to lose any of them.

  “I’ll tell those down below that we’re going,” Juliana said. “They’ll be safe on Serpentine if we keep it high enough.”

  When she returned, Adam hefted the broken lamp he’d carried out of the poisoner school and nodded for Cettie to lead the way. They unfurled the rope ladder, and she climbed down first. The air was chill, and fog began to gather in the streets. Why was that? Had the temperature dropped so much that mist had gathered in the air?

  Or was something causing the fog?

  Her keen memory flashed back to the day Joses had died. Yes, she felt a presence. The same presence that had haunted her life since that long-ago day in the grotto at Dolcoath. She looked up at Adam, still standing at the edge of the sky ship.

  His eyes narrowed. “It’s here,” he said, acknowledging her reaction.

  The Fear Liath had found her. Adam swung over the railing and climbed down the ladder quickly. The Light Leering in the lamp glowed—a beacon. A promise.

  The fog swirled around her ankles, obscuring the mottled, grimy cobblestones. The rank smell in the air made her want to gag. Courage, she told herself. The Fear Liath had not come there by chance. The beast had defeated her once before, and no doubt her mother hoped it would best her again.

  One by one, her companions descended to the ground. Her chest felt like a hand had reached in and squeezed her heart.

  Adam looked back up at the tempest. “What will we do with the ship?”

  Juliana, weapons in each hand, invoked the ship’s Control Leering, and the tempest lifted up higher, protecting the passengers in the hold. It would draw attention from the sky ships searching for them, but if they succeeded in saving Sera, that wouldn’t matter. The fog had coalesced, and now the other side of the street was hazy. It was like a cloud settling over them, swallowing them up.

  “That’s the building,” Caulton said, orb in hand, gesturing.

  Cettie pushed the poisoner bag behind her. She could sense the Fear Liath’s mind, its evil, lurking in the shadows and the mist. It was not trying to prevent them from entering the building. What was it doing, then? Why had it been posted as a guardian?

  She didn’t know, but that didn’t stop her from moving forward. She led the way into the building. The light from Adam’s lantern chased away some of the gloom.

  The door had already been ripped off the hinges, probably for use as firewood. Heaps of charred wood had been stacked in the main hall. The building looked like it had once been a factory tenement, but it was abandoned now. Pieces of sky showed from holes in the roof overhead. The rubbish and debris on the floor made walking a dangerous act. She tried to move quietly, but the others hadn’t had her training. They were making too much noise.

  What would her mother do when she realized they’d come? Would she try to kill Sera rather than release her? Cettie breathed in through her mouth, unable to fully block the stench, and shoved aside the distracting thoughts. Caulton pointed to an iron trapdoor beneath a broken wall. The ground around it looked like it had been trampled by a lot of people.

  “She’s still down there?” Cettie whispered.

  Caulton nodded once.

  Cettie licked her lips. “Is Lady Corinne down there? Can you ask it that?”

  Caulton stared at the orb, and she felt his nudging thoughts.

  “Yes,” he answered, then squinted. “And no. The orb shows that it’s someone who is disguised as Lady Corinne.”

  So Cettie’s mother was waiting for them. Or would they catch her by surprise?

  Adam raised the lantern higher, and Cettie bent down and pulled on the handle of the trapdoor. Trevon joined her and helped her set the heavy piece of metal down gently. An overpowering odor of human refuse filtered up to them. Stairs led down into the darkness.

  A snuffling noise sounded behind them, by the broken door they’d used to enter the building. Cettie whirled, seeing a hulking shadow in the mist.

  The Fear Liath had found them. Was it going to attack them now?

  “Its weakness is light,” Cettie said to Adam. “That makes it vulnerable.”

  The miasmic fear of the creature had permeated the air. Everyone looked tense, on edge, fearful. Aunt Juliana held up her pistols as she turned to face the creature.

  She sent it so we won’t think clearly, Cettie realized. The creature was part of a trap. She had no vision to guide her of what would happen next. No notion of how they might avoid the trap but save Sera anyway. And so she started down the steps into the darkness. Adam followed her with the light, and the others followed him. The room beneath them was a huge cesspit. She’d been terrified of them as a child. The entire lower floor of each building in the Fells was used to hold human waste. She saw angled slats in the upper walls and filth staining the walls below them. The other buildings emptied into this one, it seemed. There was evidence of rake marks. Some broken handles. The lowest of the low scraped dung for a living.

  “By the Mysteries, the smell,” Juliana said, gagging.

  “Over there.” Caulton pointed to an iron door set against the far wall. Cettie could sense a kystrel at work behind it, amplifying the feelings that were already natural. Loathing, disgust, dread, hopelessness. That room emanated every terrible thing. And Sera was inside it.

  Cettie led the way to the door. It was locked. She sensed the presence of . . . of children. Like the ones she’d cared for and protected in the Fells. The ones who’d kept her ghosts at bay, if only for a while. Her Dryad-kissed thoughts brought all those desperate moments back to her.

  Children? Her mother was using children to torment her?

  Cettie felt the injustice keenly. She had to clench her fists to stop from pounding on the door in anger. Once she had mastered herself, she reached into her poisoner’s bag for the thin bar and tools she’d need to unlock the door. In a moment, she’d released the tumblers. Acting quickly, she returned the tools to her bag and opened the door.

  The faces of the huddled children beyond gazed at her fearfully. They were chained to the wall. Each one was gagged. Some had tears streaming down their cheeks. Her heart quailed for them. And then she saw Sera lying on the ground, unconscious and possibly drugged, her dark hair covering part of her face. She wasn’t wearing a royal dress anymore, but her gown wasn’t soiled or ruined.

  The feeling of dark magic—kystrel magic—hung in the room, mixed with something else. The power of the Mysteries, and perhaps even that of the Fear Liath upstairs. The kystrel music drowned out the others, making it impossible to discern the various strands. Someone was invisible. Cettie held up her hand to those behind her, warning the others to stay back.

  “
I know you’re here, Mother,” Cettie said into the void as she stepped into the room. The light from Adam’s lantern pushed back some of the murk. He stood behind her in the doorway.

  Nothing. Not even a sigh of breath.

  “Do you see her?” Trevon whispered. When she didn’t answer, he pushed closer. “Sera!” he gasped out.

  “Stay back,” Cettie warned, approaching the body. What was her mother’s plan? Why hadn’t she spoken? Not seeing her made the anticipation so much worse. She was being toyed with. Manipulated.

  Some of the children were choking on their gags as they sobbed. She could see the warning in their eyes. The plea for rescue. Her heart broke for them, for the forgotten children. These slaves chained to the wall. It would all be perfectly legal of course—their deeds had been signed away, signed away again and again. Her heart quivered with outrage.

  Cettie walked closer to Sera, keeping her movements careful and deliberate. Still, she heard no sign of her mother. Nothing to strip away the advantage of her invisibility.

  “Father is dead,” Cettie said, hoping to provoke a sort of reaction. A betrayed gasp. Anything. “Did you know?”

  There was no answer. Cettie had reached Sera’s crumpled body. The conflicting magic continued to whirl around her.

  “Sera?” Cettie said, crouching down and touching her friend’s arm. She kept her eyes roaming, looking for any sign of a threat.

  Sera’s head lifted slightly, some of the dark hair falling away. She’d changed a little since they’d last seen each other. But her face was as familiar to her as . . .

  No.

  Cettie realized it was wrong. An illusion. It wasn’t Sera on the ground at all.

  The Fear Liath roared as the illusion vanished. Sera melted away, replaced by Cettie’s mother. As Lady Corinne’s hand gripped Cettie’s wrist, a rush of magic seized them both and sent them hurtling away.

  She’s sleeping in the captain’s room. I must talk to her, but I don’t wish to wake her. She needs the rest. Is this even real, that she’s here? That I’m here on a tempest rushing back to our world? She’s so weary, so broken-hearted and consumed by guilt. I want to know what happened to her. To hear the full truth, no matter how bitter. I need to know if I could trust her again.