Masquerade

by Lam, Laura

  I shivered. ‘Gods, what if he hasn’t stopped looking for her? The Steward knows about her now, and we don’t know how he found out. What if Timur somehow accesses the same information?’

  Drystan sighed. ‘We worry about that if it happens. Oli never gave her up, as far as we know, so that’s something. We can only do what we can and adapt to whatever life throws at us next.’

  I leaned back on the bed, feeling so tired. After I closed my eyes, Drystan settled down beside me. He put his arms around my shoulders, and I turned my face to his neck. Neither of us could bear to speak any longer. And so we both drifted off into sleep.

  There was no rest for me there. It was not as clear a dream of the resurrectionist as before, but flashes of carrying a body into the laboratory, brushing grave dirt from blonde hair, and watching the corpse sink into the Ampulla tank. Of fingers pressing against dead flesh, sticking syringes into inert veins. Electric bulbs buzzing in their sockets, somewhere deep underground.

  And throughout it all, a feeling of panic, of desperation.

  Of time running out.

  21

  THE SPARK

  You cannot raze us down. We will rise up, our own branches to the sky.

  — Extract from a Forester pamphlet

  We stayed in bed late the next morning, neither of us willing to face the day. Maske was still weak, so he did not knock on our flimsy bedroom door demanding we begin practice or hit the streets to earn our coins.

  Our bodies curled around each other, we drifted in and out of sleep. When Drystan finally awakened properly, I kissed him, my lips gentle. We tasted of morning breath, but neither of us cared. We didn’t speak, but we told each other how sorry we were with our movements, with our bodies. Everything else fell away and we lost ourselves and found ourselves all over again.

  Afterwards, we dressed and I proposed we went out, just the two of us. There were enough coins in the box by the bedside table for us to have lunch in a not-so-nice restaurant and tea at a cafe.

  Maske was a little annoyed we were bunking off work, but he waved us away. Cyan stayed in her room, sensing we needed to be left alone.

  We went to the second-largest square after the Celestial Cathedral, near the smaller Lady of the Moon church. It was made of dark blue marble threaded with white, painted with silver stars. A full silver moon was suspended from the two towers on thin wires, the light catching the corners. Most churches represented both the Lord and the Lady, but smaller ones chose one deity. The Lady of the Moon churches were frequented more often by women who prayed to the feminine side of the Couple. As someone in between genders, I was more comfortable in the churches devoted to both. It had been a long time since I’d prayed with anything approaching sincerity.

  We had a lunch of chips and cheap cuts of beef and pickled vegetables. The price of food had already risen so much since the beginning of the summer. Our meal was silent, almost stilted. For the first time in a long time, I was tongue-tied around Drystan, and he was the same. Secrets had threaded their way through our relationship. We couldn’t let them fester.

  I pushed away my meal before it was finished, my appetite gone.

  After our sad excuse for a date, we wandered into the Lady of the Moon church. Inside, everything was dim and quiet, a few lit candles mirroring the stars. We sat in the pews, our heads bowed, but I did not know if either of us truly prayed.

  When we left the church, Drystan reached out, linking his pinkie with mine for a few moments before letting go.

  On the way to a tea house, my head swivelled to the right. That sense of warmth in my mind returned.

  ‘There are at least two Chimaera that way,’ I said, indicating with a jerk of my chin.

  It was only after we turned down the cobbled street that we heard the angry shouts of a protest. Forester, Kashura, or monarchists? I moved closer to Drystan, the fear in my stomach growing stronger.

  The protesters had stopped the traffic on one of the long promenades that led to Snakewood Palace in the Glass Quarter. Signs waved in the air, and people stood shoulder to shoulder. Even the scaffolding was packed, so we could not perch on it as easily as we had that day at the Celestial Cathedral.

  ‘We should leave,’ Drystan said. ‘There is no Shroud if there’s another attack, at least not that I can see.’

  There had not been any large-scale attacks since the day the Kymri Theatre had been damaged, but small-scale fights and riots still happened on a regular basis. Shop windows were smashed, goods stolen. Graffiti accusing people of being monarchists or Chimaera was scrawled across doors. There had been far more peaceful protests and vigils, yet today the mood of the crowd was angry. The distant call of sirens echoed through the spaces between buildings. The protest had just begun, despite the crush of people.

  On the scuffed, exposed brick wall of one of the sides of the building, Timur’s face appeared. It was a Vestige projection. Wherever he was, it was somewhere he could not be arrested. The same could not be said of his followers, who stood on a small stage in the middle of the promenade, wearing long, dark robes and blank masks on their faces – half golden, half silver. The sun and the moon, the light and the darkness within us all. The imagery took me aback – there had been no rumours of the Kashura being religious zealots, but I suppose the imagery was evocative and served their purpose, no matter what their beliefs. They did not seem like people, but sentinels meting out justice.

  Two people stood with their faces covered by bags, their arms held tightly behind them by the men in the robes. They were the Chimaera whose warmth I sensed.

  ‘We can’t leave them,’ I whispered.

  ‘Oh, Styx,’ Drystan muttered, but resolutely he started pushing his way through the crowd.

  ‘Thank you for coming, each and every one of you.’ Timur’s voice floated down the promenade, deep and commanding. ‘All of you seek change, all of you wish to protect this island we call home. You know that we are under threat in so many ways. Our monarchy lets us starve while they live in gilded rooms, eating food we could never dream of tasting off the finest china with the finest silverware. And strange, unnatural creatures are returning to our lands, many from the other islands of the Archipelago. We do not know what powers they hold. There are such rumours. Some can supposedly read our innermost thoughts, influence our actions. Not even our minds are safe.’

  Fearful murmurings moved through the crowds, others calling out in anger. Timur’s projection nodded, solemn.

  ‘I know, I know this is not easy. It is a trying time for Ellada. Uncertainty is a difficult beast to tame. Yet we are strong, and we are fearless!’

  The crowd’s yelling grew to a dull roar. It reminded me far too much of that day in the Celestial square. Pushing our way through people was agonizingly slow. Several pushed back, and someone trod painfully on my foot. Still, we persisted, darting through the small spaces like minnows swimming upstream. The fear within me grew. I wished Cyan were here, able to tell us who the people beneath the sacks were, or the people behind the masks.

  ‘I am but your humble servant,’ Timur continued. ‘Helping enact the will of the people. I tried to work within the system, to help change Ellada for the better from the inside. Yet the termites have eaten the very hearts of the trees of the nobility. We must rebuild the core of Ellada, and keep our island safe from harm.’

  As if on cue, the sentinels tore the sacks off the heads of the two Chimaera. Drystan and I let out cries of dismay. On the left was Juliet the Leopard Lady, her head lifted in defiance but her eyes sparking with fear. Next to her was Tauro, the bull-man from R. H. Ragona’s Circus of Magic. He lowed, shaking his head, the ring through his nose catching the sunlight.

  We were still so far from the stage. It was growing harder to move forward. The shoves grew stronger, some people yelling at us to stay back. Ignoring them, we pushed closer. There was no plan. No way to stop them. Yet we could not simply turn away.

  ‘These are the Chimaera infiltrating our land,’
Timur said, voice rising. ‘The leopard woman claimed to mean no harm, but we know what terrors the Chimaera are capable of. Untold centuries ago, they nearly destroyed the world, and I am certain that, should they and their foul magic be allowed to return, the same will happen once again. We must send them out, far away from us. The Chimaera and their sympathizers in the monarchy will otherwise destroy our nation. Out there are Chimaera who could destroy the world, but do not fear. I search for them, and I will protect you.’

  ‘Fell them!’ someone yelled in the crowd. It turned to a chant: ‘Fell them, fell them, fell them.’ As if using a timber metaphor softened the cry for murder.

  The Policiers arrived, unfurling from their carriages, surrounding the edges of the crowd. Their Vestige-amplified voices called for all to disperse peacefully. The mob shouted back, pushing against each other. Timur’s projection watched what was happening avidly, his eyes glittering, almost as if he were waiting.

  The crowd kept their eyes on the Policiers, and Drystan and I used their wavering attention to move closer to the stage. Juliet’s head turned towards me and she met my eyes. The hope on her face pained me. Tauro saw us too and began making noises. One of the sentinels elbowed him hard in the ribs and he whimpered. Rage burned through me.

  Someone pushed to my right. I turned, and Cyan looked up at me. There was no point asking how she knew to find us, but I was so glad of her presence.

  ‘There must be something we can do,’ I said. ‘Can we help influence the crowd to leave?’

  Cyan shook her head. ‘Too many of them, and they’re too riled up. I think we can help Juliet and Tauro, though.’

  She took my hand in hers. Before we could even attempt to link minds, however, the crowd behind us began to scream.

  My first thought was that there had been another explosion, but there was no deep, reverberating boom.

  ‘A Policier struck someone,’ Cyan said. ‘He’s fallen, and he’s bleeding badly from his temple.’ She paused, blanched. ‘He’s dead.’

  Chaos erupted. People began attacking Policiers, and they fought back. More sirens echoed through the city to mix with the hoarse yells of the crowd. It devolved into a riot within five minutes. Cyan, Drystan and I pushed our way through to the stage. The sentinels were tense, their hands straying to weapons hidden beneath their robes. Cyan took my hand again and her mind touched mine. A side effect of helping Frey control his powers was that we had better control of our own. The two of us were stronger. Cyan sent out a thin tendril towards the sentinels. Though we walked right up to them, their heads did not turn, and no one in the crowd noticed us. Juliet and Tauro shrugged free of the sentinels’ hands and we ushered them off the stage. It was not easy to push our way out past the crowd, especially as the violence increased. Warning shots crackled in the air, and we all winced – at least, I hoped they were warning shots. Tauro kept making low, frightened noises in the back of his throat. I took his hand, squeezing. Policiers fought with civilians here, too, and Cyan was shaking with the effort of keeping people from noticing us. Eventually we slipped past the edge of the mob and into the relatively quieter streets off the main promenade.

  We didn’t speak until we found a deserted alleyway. Cyan leaned against the wall, breathing hard. I was almost as exhausted. Juliet put her arms around Tauro, leaning her head on his hairy shoulder. Drystan was a little green around the edges, his withdrawal still taking most of his energy.

  ‘You saved our lives,’ Juliet said.

  ‘Surely they wouldn’t have harmed you,’ I said, but Juliet shook her head.

  ‘I’m not sure. They might have. Either in front of that whole crowd, or behind closed doors. Timur despises us.’

  ‘Are you actually Chimaera?’ I asked, trying to keep the hope from my eyes.

  She pressed her lips together, nodded. ‘Are you, too? None of the guards even blinked when you took us from them.’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered, and Cyan nodded too.

  ‘I’m not,’ Drystan added, and his voice was bitter.

  ‘All this time, we were in the circus and we never knew another was right there,’ Juliet said in wonder.

  ‘I mean, we wondered,’ Drystan said. ‘The lovely teeth had us curious. Not surgical implants then?’

  Juliet flashed her long eye-teeth. ‘Nay. They came in after I lost my milk teeth. Gave my mother quite the shock.’

  Tauro was smiling at us. I’d missed him. He couldn’t speak, but he understood what we said. He was a gentle giant, and I’d worried about him after we left the circus, afraid he’d have to join a workhouse. Juliet had protected him, or tried to.

  ‘Do you know many others?’ I asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Just . . . the other two.’ Her eyes filled with tears, and she bowed her head.

  ‘I’m so sorry for what happened at the Celestial Cathedral.’ My apology felt useless.

  ‘Aren’t we all?’ she sighed.

  ‘Do either of you have any extra abilities?’ I asked.

  She shook her head. ‘None that we’ve noticed. We’re simply physically different. Dirk might have had some, but if so didn’t choose to share that with me. He was very guarded.’ I tried not to think of him spread on the operating table, the gash down his chest.

  ‘I’m sure you could stay with us if you need shelter.’ It would be beyond cramped, but I could not turn them away.

  Juliet gave me a smile. ‘I thank you, but there’s no need. We have friends we can rely on. I want to take Tauro away, somewhere safe. It’s time for us to return to Byssia, leave this island that hates us.’ She looked away from us. ‘You may think that cowardly, but I find my desire to fight, to reach out and work for peace, it’s all fled.’

  I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s all right. I understand.’

  Drystan, Cyan, and I emptied our pockets, giving them what coins we could. Juliet wrapped a scarf around her head, leaving her face in shadow, and Tauro put up the hood of his coat so only his stubbly chin showed.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ I asked.

  Juliet shrugged. ‘Who knows? I hope so. And I hope you are safe as well. You should consider leaving, too.’

  I took a shaky breath. ‘It’s still my home. I have to believe that most people here are better than Timur and his ilk.’

  ‘I fear you will be disappointed.’

  ‘We’re magicians these days,’ I told her. ‘We usually stay at the Kymri Theatre, but it’s being repaired, so we’re at the Penny Rookeries now.’ I gave her the address.

  Her eyes widened. ‘You’re Maske’s Marionettes?’

  ‘Guilty as charged.’

  She gave us something approaching a true smile. ‘I’m glad you two have found success. What happened at the circus . . . well, it was terrible. Bil destroyed it all. Yet us circus folk are a strong sort. We always land on our feet.’

  ‘We do.’ I gave them both a hug, and Drystan did the same. Cyan shook their hands.

  With a last wave, they were gone.

  Even this far from the promenade, I could still hear the sirens. The alarm calling the curfew sounded, even though it was hours before the sun would set.

  As we hurried back to the Penny Rookeries through streets filled with people hunched with fear, I asked aloud, ‘What does this all mean?’

  Drystan’s face was hard. ‘I think Ellada is now at civil war.’

  22

  THE RESURRECTIONIST

  ‘I am devastated by the desecration of the grave of my daughter, Rosalind. Of course I am. She’d been put to rest, and that rest has been disturbed. I know that my daughter is gone, hopefully already leaving the river Styx for her next life. But I feel it’s important for her shell to remain interred, if only for the peace of mind of me and my family.’

  — ‘Snatched from the Grave’, an interview with ROBERT ARCHER, The Daily Imacharan

  When we arrived home, Cyan disappeared into her room. I was covered with the sweat of the crowd, and Drystan felt the
same. He ran a fresh bath, the ancient pipes creaking and shaking. The tiny bathroom smelled of mould, the grouting permanently stained no matter how hard we scrubbed it. I shed my clothes, helping Drystan out of his. We lowered ourselves into the bath, the water almost too warm.

  It was not romantic. Both of us were too upset to turn to each other for comfort. We lay in the bath, barely fitting, our legs touching, each lost in our own thoughts. Juliet and Tauro were Chimaera. They were safe, thanks to us. Had Timur wanted the fight with the Policiers to break out? His sentinels must have discarded their robes and masks, disappeared anonymously into the crowd.

  This was only the beginning.

  The monarchy would impose even stricter rules after the attack by the Policiers. The Kashura would respond with more violence. The public would be caught in the middle. It was a mess, and I did not know how they could contain this before it grew into even more of a problem.

  When we came out of the bathroom in clean clothes and towel-dried hair, Maske motioned us to come into the kitchen.

  ‘Time for a meeting,’ he said. He still wasn’t fully recovered, and coughed wetly. Cyan was already sitting next to him.

  He’s tired of secrets, she said, spoiling Maske’s surprise.

  ‘It’s time I knew what you three were actually up to,’ he began. ‘I know what’s going on out there, and life is about to become more difficult and more dangerous. What are you involved in? It’s nothing to do with the Foresters, is it?’

  I almost bit back a laugh. ‘I promise you, it’s definitely nothing to do with them.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said, almost gently. ‘It’s time to take me out of the dark. Tell me everything.’

  ‘We can’t tell you quite everything,’ Cyan said, hesitant. ‘It would be treason to talk about some of it.’

  That gave him pause. ‘Well. Tell me everything that wouldn’t involve treason.’

  We almost came clean. We still didn’t tell him about Lily, and therefore Frey, as we were cowards. So now Maske knew that there was a secret involving the monarchy, and that we’d known one of the Chimaera at the Celestial Cathedral square, and that we’d saved her again tonight. He knew that we ourselves were Chimaera, and about Anisa and her visions. I told him of my graverobber dreams, and the Kashura, and Timur’s anger against the Chimaera. I told him of the Elixir and what it did to me, that it enhanced the powers I did have. Of course, I didn’t tell him more Elixir was hidden in his very bedroom, for fear Drystan would sneak in and pick another lock.