Prism Cloud

by Jeff Wheeler

Unless you send me a sign, a manifestation that what I have learned is not true, I will join with the hetaera and wear a kystrel. I cannot endure these ghosts any longer. I don’t know why you have let them come back to torment me after all these years. I cannot bear it any longer. Why have you forsaken me when I only tried to obey? Show me a sign. Show it to me today. Show me that you care. Or I will join them.

  Her fingers locked together, her heart heavy with sorrow. She waited in the stillness, trying to perceive even a flicker of light. Had she deluded herself all these years? Was her faith merely a result of the manipulations of others more powerful than her? Still she waited until her knees ached.

  The gong sounded, announcing the time to gather and eat. She wasn’t hungry. She wouldn’t eat. She would hold vigil one last time, she decided. Give the Mysteries one last chance to reclaim her . . . if the power even wanted her anymore.

  She doubted it did.

  All that day, she participated in school as usual, ignoring her hunger. She went from one class to the next, silently communicating with the girls, who tried to teach her scraps of Genevese during the short breaks. Still Cettie waited, her mind open, listening for a whisper that bid her be patient. That told her she was cared about.

  Nothing. Nothing at all.

  As the sun set over the wall of the compound, she walked to where Jevin was playing the hautboie so movingly. Of all the people she had met at the school, she admired him the most. He was a skilled musician, a clever gardener. She respected his self-discipline, how he got up early every day, how attuned he was to the feelings of others, and how he never seemed to look out for himself.

  He finished the song as she sat listening attentively.

  “Would you like to learn the hautboie?” he asked her with a smile.

  “I think I would,” she answered. The shadows were stretching on the cobblestones. Dimming the world. “I’ve made up my mind.”

  He nodded and said nothing.

  “I would like my own kystrel,” Cettie said.

  “Are you sure about this? We won’t compel you.”

  “No, it’s my decision.” She pursed her lips, feeling sad but certain. “The Knowing doesn’t want me.”

  Jevin sighed and nodded. “I know how you feel. When I came here . . . those were dark days. It’s hard to accept that with such an ideal, no matter how much you give . . . it is never enough. The Knowing is never . . . satisfied. Well, there is another way to attain its power. And you’ve chosen it. I’m proud of you, Cettie. Well done.”

  He reached into the pocket of his black jacket and withdrew the small medallion. She recognized the shape, the whorl-like pattern. Picking it up, she let it dangle from the chain and stared at the symbol, the entwining bevels and twists that converged to a single point. She stared at it a long while, intrigued by the mystery of it. Such a small thing to have once made men so afraid.

  Cettie slid it around her neck. Immediately, she felt a calm reassurance.

  “There,” Jevin said with a smile, arching an eyebrow. “How does it feel?”

  A sudden insight struck her, something that had nothing to do with the kystrel. She voiced it. “I was engaged to a man back in Comoros. I wish I could have broken it off. To have freed him from me forever.” She remembered the parcel she’d asked Becka to deliver. It would be painful for him to get it now. She wondered if there was a way to prevent it from being delivered. Well, a note would have to do. “He’s . . . the kind of man who will wait. I wish he didn’t have to.” Then she recalled Fitzroy telling her about his painful search for the woman he’d loved before Maren. The memory evoked a strange familiarity with her own situation, but something had changed. It no longer caused her pain to think of Fitzroy. Blessed numbness had replaced the awful guilt.

  “That’s an easy enough matter to solve,” Jevin said. He patted her knee. “Why don’t you write him a letter. And I will make sure that he gets it.”

  General Montpensier is a cunning wretch. We made three attacks on the world of Kingfountain, and he has routed two of them. Possibly a third—we haven’t heard from Admiral Grant yet. Our sky ships are lumbering back through the mirror gates to shore up our defenses, but Montpensier’s fleet has already broken through. It is coming, I fear, directly to the City. He’s been preparing for this confrontation for some time. The wedding, the armistice, was only a ploy. He will strike at us with his full force.

  The empress, who was crowned this morning in a simple ceremony among the privy council, has commanded the evacuation of the City. The populace will be safe in the floating manors, and zephyrs and tempests are transporting as many of them as possible. Others are fleeing the City in droves. But we don’t have enough time. There are simply too many people to move.

  —Asriel Durrant, Prime Minister

  SERA

  CHAPTER THIRTY−ONE

  THE LEERING OF EMPRESS MAIA

  The first time Sera had come to Empress Maia’s secret chamber was with a former prime minister, and he had brought her there attempting to intimidate her. Sera’s memories of the place were tainted by that interaction. They entered through the room with the placard labeled 117. Beyond it, in the small, nondescript room guarded by two soldiers from the Ministry of War, hung an enormous mirror surrounded with Leerings that kept out anyone who lacked the proper clearance. This time, she passed through the enchanted glass with Durrant in tow, having greeted the captain and lieutenant stationed there.

  The stone door guarding the atrium bore the face of the first empress’s protector, her bodyguard. The scar on his face, the angry expression set permanently into stone still evoked the menace of the man. Sera gazed at that face, wondering about Maia’s life, about the choices she’d faced. She, too, had stood against an attempted invasion, an enemy intent on destroying her beliefs, but what Sera was confronted with was much worse. A war unprecedented in scale. A war she feared might not end.

  Sera willed the Leering to open, and the gruff face obeyed her, revealing the pleasant atrium beyond. Just as she remembered, the glow emanating from the Leerings in the ceiling was reminiscent of sunlight. A shallow pool lined with black and white tiles was flanked by couches for comfort. It was a pleasant room, one meant for solitude and quiet, and the power of the Mysteries seemed to emanate from everything within it. But her attention was drawn to the Leering propped on a pedestal beyond the pool.

  “The first empress,” Durrant said reverently. The Command Leering had, indeed, been given the former empress’s visage.

  “Yes,” Sera answered, glancing at him.

  “And she could control all of Lockhaven from here?” he asked.

  “She could see out of every Leering in the City,” Sera replied. “And from the closest mirror gate. The view out of whichever Leering is chosen is shared in the pool, so we can both see it.”

  “And you said that with this key,” Durrant continued, fishing it from his pocket, “I can use this room as well?”

  “Once I’ve granted you that authority. The key represents delegation. Now place your hand on the Leering.”

  Durrant’s brow wrinkled as he stepped around the pool to approach the Command Leering. His expression was solemn, even stern.

  As it should be. She approached the Leering from the other side, but Durrant reached it first. He raised his hand to touch it.

  “Take off your glove, please,” Sera said.

  His eyes met hers. She saw a sheen of sweat on his brow, a look of nervousness. His mouth could not suppress an involuntary frown. But he did as he was bid and removed his glove before touching the Leering. He blinked rapidly, possibly from surprise that nothing had happened.

  Sera removed her gloves as well and placed her palm on the other side of the Leering, keeping her eyes fixed on Durrant’s as she invoked it.

  “Before I grant you authority in this room, Mr. Durrant,” Sera said, her voice edged with warning. “I must be certain that you are no enemy. I’ve trusted you for many years, but I’ve been deceived before.
There is too much at stake now for me to take foolish risks. I also know that our enemies have the power of illusion. They can wear different masks.”

  “Your Highness, I don’t believe that you—”

  “Be silent,” Sera commanded, and she felt the Leering send a shock of power up his arm to ensure he heeded her. “I abjure you, by the Mysteries, to state your true name. If you lie, even in your heart, this Leering will know, and it will strike you dead. There can be no deception between you and me. It gives me the power to know if you are speaking the truth.” Upon inheriting the throne, the Minister of Thought had taught her this function of the Leering.

  A dribble of sweat went down the side of his face. His eyes were wide with worry; his jaw trembled slightly. She released the power that had frozen his tongue.

  “Now you will answer my questions. State your name. Your true name.”

  The tendons on his hand were taut, as if he were trying to pull his hand away. But he could not. The Medium had seized hold of him and would not let go until Sera released him.

  “I am Asriel Durrant,” he answered flatly.

  She felt a pulse from the Leering, the comforting throb that truth had been spoken.

  “Are you in league with General Montpensier in any way?”

  His lips pressed together. “I am not, Your Majesty.”

  “General Montpensier has said that there is a spy in Lockhaven, a person who informs their court. Do you know who that person is?”

  He sighed. “I do not, Your Majesty. And after we spoke about this the other day, I have already taken steps to try and discover the spy from Kingfountain. You are doing the right thing by questioning me.”

  “Have you had any involvement or business dealings with Lady Corinne?”

  He shook his head no.

  “Say it, Mr. Durrant.”

  “I apologize. I have not. I have been approached with opportunities by agents who I assumed were in her employ. After your disgrace. I was short on funds at the time, and my prospects were . . . shall we say . . . disadvantaged. I saw the invitations for what they were, an attempt to win my loyalty through bribery. I was . . . tempted. But I have a keen sense of self-interest, and I imagined that yielding to Lady Corinne in any way would put me in her debt. So I refused. They offered, in various guises, several times more. I refused every overture. And this I swear to you. No one save you binds my loyalty.”

  His words pulsed with truth.

  “You never told me about the offers from Lady Corinne.”

  “I did not,” Durrant answered. He sniffed. “I hoped that my actions would speak louder than any words. I also remembered what happened to your old governess, Hugilde. And how she was suborned against you.” He smirked. “It pleases me to find out I was right about Corinne and her character. But she is far worse than I ever imagined her to be. And that is saying something.”

  Sera smiled in reply. “Then I give you, Asriel Durrant, my authority to wield the Command Leering on my behalf. You may use this key day or night in service of the empire of Comoros. And I charge you to let no one in this room without my express permission.”

  “I accept your charge, Your Majesty.”

  “Please continue to call me Sera.”

  “I will. It just felt too . . . solemn an occasion for it.” He grinned.

  Sera released the Leering’s hold on him, relieved beyond measure that he had passed her test. He drew his hand away, shaking it as if the Leering had been excessively warm.

  “Now let us see how far away our enemies are,” Sera said. She placed her hand on the Leering again. So much had changed since she’d struggled to get them to obey her. Life had taught her many lessons, many of them forced on her. When she was younger, she had wanted to do her own will. She’d thought persistence would help her achieve her desire to become the empress. But it had not.

  She’d learned submissiveness and self-restraint at Pavenham Sky, two traits she’d observed in Lady Corinne, which had given her greater power and influence. Only Corinne had not used the power wisely or for good purposes. Sera intended to take what she’d learned from Lady Corinne and use it for good purposes.

  Even so, it struck Sera that the position she’d always coveted had not been granted to her because of anything she had done, wrong or right. The Mysteries had made her empress.

  As Sera invoked the Command Leering once again, ordering it to show her the Leering at the front porch of her home on Kelper Street in the City, the waters of the pool began to ripple. The events she saw were happening at that moment. In the waters of the pool, she saw sky ships rushing up and down from Lockhaven. The evacuation order had been given hours before, and she was pleased to see how promptly it had been obeyed. She began to shift the view from Leering to Leering, from estate to estate, getting a look at all of it. The wealthy families who lived in the sky manors had been outraged by the command to house and shelter the displaced people from below. Sera had no patience to hear the complaints and had refused audience with them. The people were coming, as many as would fit.

  Sera shifted her gaze to the Leerings at the gates of the City. The size of the crowds there defied comprehension. Each gate was swollen with people. Some with carts and wagons. Some with their meager possessions strapped to their backs. Children cried. Arguments broke out. She could smell the sweat and taste the fear.

  “There are still too many,” Durrant said in despair. “We’ll never be able to evacuate them all in time.”

  “We should have started this days ago,” Sera said, feeling her heart ache at the scene below.

  “We didn’t know days ago,” Durrant said in frustration. “The general has been biding his time. We are totally unprepared.”

  Sera’s gut wrenched. “Let’s see how far away his ships are.”

  “Agreed. The latest intelligence I have is the fleets will be here by dawn tomorrow. Start with the mirror gate, if you will.”

  Sera invoked the magic, and the view in the waters changed to the mirror gate she’d traveled through days before. Ships of all shapes and sizes continued to push through. It was truly an armada. The mirror gate had been completely overrun by Montpensier’s navy. As she shifted the view, she beheld the extent of the damage. The town there was occupied by foreign soldiers, the wharves clogged with cargo ships. The forces left to guard the mirror gate under Admiral Ballinger had been destroyed. She could see the wreckage of sky ships and sea ships befouling the waters.

  “Look!” Durrant said in surprise. A hurricane floated in the sky in the distance, burning. Smoke trailed from its hull as the seabound ships below continued to launch volleys at it. She could hear the shriek of bombs as they arced into the sky and struck the massive sky ship. She saw several men tumble over the sides, falling toward the waves. From such a height, they would die on impact.

  “Why is that ship still there?” Sera demanded worriedly. “We can’t afford to lose hurricanes. And why didn’t he destroy the mirror gate when he realized he was losing!”

  Durrant was pacing, his face wrinkled with anger and emotion. “I agree. He left us completely vulnerable by not destroying it. What is Admiral Ballinger doing?” he snarled.

  “Losing,” Sera answered. “If we’ve lost our position there, we won’t be able to hold the City for long.”

  Durrant looked at her in shock. “What are you saying, Sera?”

  She changed the view, tracking the various Leerings stationed along the coast, from the mirror gate all the way to Lockhaven. There was a long line of ships coming in—supply ships, combat vessels. This was an all-out war, and Kingfountain had brought an invasion force sizable enough to do the job. They were going straight to the seat of Sera’s power, to the hub of the wealth of the empire.

  He wanted Lockhaven. He would burn the rest.

  “We cannot stay here,” Sera said, shaking her head. “We weren’t prepared for this.”

  “Do you know how many millions are stranded down below?” Durrant said. “You’d abandon them
? Leave them to their fate?”

  “No, I’m suggesting we draw the fight to us. The wealth is up here, not down below. We will have to face this armada, but let’s not do it where there are so many people. The City cannot move. But Lockhaven can.”

  “But what about the city defenses—the storms that can be summoned?” Durrant said. “It is why you are here, Sera. Why only a Fitzempress can rule. And we’ve never tried moving Lockhaven before. I’m not even sure it can be done.”

  “That is something we need to know. And yes, I fully intend to invoke the defenses,” Sera answered. “But if we can, we must move away from the City. Montpensier is expecting us to defend our capital. He may already have a way of infiltrating. The empire is where we are. It isn’t the City.”

  “Where could we go?” Durrant said, seething in frustration. “Across the sea? Will we let the invaders destroy the civilization we’ve spent centuries building?”

  Sera gripped the Leering harder. “No. We’re not fleeing. We’re going to fight. But we cannot continue to fight the way we did in the past. We have to stop them from coming in. Admiral Ballinger didn’t destroy that mirror gate, so we need to. It’s too close to the City, and we can’t wait for Kingfountain’s breach of the covenant to destroy it when Fitzroy’s allotted time there expires in a fortnight. Without a convenient place to retreat, Montpensier’s navy will be trapped here. Then we use our ships to attack them at night and sink as many as we can.”

  Durrant rubbed his mouth. “But how will we close the gate? They’ve already taken the portal, and no doubt the general has left enough ships to defend it.”

  “We’ll use Lockhaven to do it,” Sera said. “We will try to move it at night when they cannot see us. By the time Montpensier’s fleet arrives at dawn, we’ll already be gone. They might be able to shoot down a hurricane. But I don’t think they can shoot down a mountain.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY−TWO

  DEFIANCE