Prism Cloud

by Jeff Wheeler

  He also had the terrible habit of giving her very brief answers.

  “And how do you know it was Prince Kasdan you met?” Sera pressed, trying to keep her frustration in check. “And not an imposter.”

  Admiral Grant gave a curt little shrug. “I don’t.”

  “So this possible alliance may be a deception?” Sera pressed.

  “Could be.”

  Sera frowned. “Tell me what he looked like.”

  Admiral Grant scratched an eyebrow. “Either he is deceiving us or he isn’t, Your Majesty. If he is, then we’ll conquer Brythonica too.” Blunt. Straightforward.

  “Where did you get your information about what happened in Kingfountain?” Sera asked next. “Prince Kasdan wasn’t there to witness it.”

  “He was not,” Grant agreed. And then he remained silent.

  “Admiral Grant, do I have to peel this onion layer by layer, or are you going to contribute to the conversation?”

  The admiral wrinkled his nose and sniffed. “I’m trying to say as little as possible, Your Majesty.”

  “I can tell that. Why?”

  Grant shrugged. His serious blue eyes met hers. “Because there is likely someone on this privy council who is in league with Montpensier. Or someone very near to it. The less I say, the better.”

  His words caused audible gasps throughout the room. Admiral Grant hooked his thumb in his belt, looking just as unconcerned as he had before. Then the murmuring began, the sidelong looks, the accusatory glares. Sera knew the general had claimed to have a reliable Espion in her court, but she hadn’t thought it possible the person could have penetrated so high.

  Sera could see the reason he was so circumspect. She smoothed the velvet arm cushion of her chair. “Do you know who it is, Admiral?” she asked in a low voice.

  Admiral Grant pursed his lips. “If I did, they wouldn’t be in this room right now. Montpensier knew we were coming. He knew which mirror gates each of us would use. We were all ambushed after we crossed.” His words caused a sinking feeling in Sera’s heart. Was Cettie using her gifts against them now? “I’m awaiting your orders now, Your Majesty. Legault is taken. There are three hurricanes hovering over its capital right now. I don’t imagine the general will allow that for long, and I don’t have enough soldiers to hold it unless you authorize reinforcements.”

  “Done,” said Sera. “Hold what you’ve taken, Admiral. Then take some more. The goal is General Montpensier himself, not a particular city.” She would never call him emperor, even if he’d found someone else to lead his fleet into battle. She leaned forward. If the spy was truly in the room with them, then she wanted her message to ring in their ears. “You will engage him until he has unconditionally surrendered. Or until he is dead.”

  Admiral Grant was unmoved by the vehemence in her words. “As you command.”

  Dawn came once again. It was strange seeing a different sky, always a mirror of her own, through the rift. After nightfall, Durrant had given her a suggestion of what to name it. The idea was inspired by Lord Fitzroy’s journal. Let’s call it a Prism Cloud, he’d suggested. Look at all the different colors.

  As Sera stared at it, she saw sky ship after sky ship move inside the rift. No one, including Sera herself, knew how long it would remain open.

  Montpensier’s fleet had started ravaging the City as soon as they realized Lockhaven was missing. But then word had reached them that the closest mirror gate was closed, and they’d scattered to the four winds. Sera’s fleet had hammered the remaining forces, tempests and hurricanes hunting down the ships. There were no offers of surrender. No survivors captured.

  Sera wore a thick gown and cloak. She’d been told that Cruix was in mountains that were often bedecked with snow. Durrant had found nothing in the tomes to indicate Cruix was any different from the other abbeys situated throughout the realm. Was there something in its history that had been meaningful to Empress Maia? Something lost to the ages, perhaps?

  Could this be where Sinia, the Kingfountain Wizr, had been imprisoned?

  An escort had been arranged, but Sera had insisted it not be a large one. Though it was not a good time to leave Lockhaven, Durrant would remain behind to act on her behalf in the war effort. She wanted to visit Cruix in person so that she could use the Tay al-Ard, which she’d taken to wearing strapped on her forearm, to return in an instant if need be. She could not allow Lady Corinne to keep tampering with the Leering that held Ereshkigal.

  The door cracked open, and she could hear a familiar voice arguing with the guards stationed there. Adam Creigh. Her quick judgment of the situation indicated that he had been forbidden to see her.

  She hurried toward the door.

  “Your Majesty,” Adam said with obvious relief.

  “When did you get back? What is the trouble?” Sera said. The guards looked abashed.

  “Just a little disagreement,” Adam said, but he did not accuse them of worse. “I just returned from Fog Willows.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a letter. “This had just arrived.” His face showed deep concern, even anger. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him this agitated. A letter. Who could have written something that had wounded him so deeply?

  His next words said it all. “It’s from Cettie.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY−FIVE

  LOST

  Sera shut the door to her rooms, her already taut nerves thrumming with the potential for new disastrous information. Adam stayed near the entryway, pressing his palm against an end table in a way that would take some of the weight off his leg.

  “How are your wounds healing, Adam?” she asked him. She’d taken the letter already, but part of her resisted opening it.

  “I’m not a very patient patient,” he replied, a quirk of a smile surfacing on his mouth for just an instant. Then it was gone, his brows needling together. He glanced at Becka, who was putting some books away that Sera no longer had need of. “Good morning, Becka. Are you well?”

  “I’m quite well,” she replied, bowing her head, wiping her hand along the cover of one.

  “You came from Fog Willows, you said?” Sera turned the letter over in her hands. “How is the family? How is Lady Maren?”

  “Don’t you want to read it?”

  “I do, but I dread what I will find here. Tell me of the family first.”

  Adam sighed. His expression became even more grim, if that were possible. “Lady Maren is in mourning, as you can imagine. She did get the message the prime minister sent and was grateful for it. There is an abiding sadness at Fog Willows that wasn’t there before.”

  “I should have sent another letter myself,” Sera said, shaking her head. “I will. I still intend to.”

  “I think it would be appreciated. But not expected. You are very busy.”

  Sera felt the ache of loss herself. How she had respected Lord Fitzroy! “Were all her children around her? How is Anna?”

  Adam nodded. “Anna has been very sick recently, but she appears to be recovering. She was staying at Gimmerton Sough and being treated by the Patchetts’ doctor, but I brought her back to Fog Willows with me. She is still very weak. I suspect Lady Corinne may have played a hand in it. The Patchetts are very solicitous about her condition, and they escorted us to Fog Willows in the hopes of seeing a full recovery.” He paused, then added, “Cettie’s disappearance has struck us all quite hard. The Patchetts were devastated to learn of Lady Corinne’s deceits.”

  “Does Lady Maren have a new keeper yet?” Sera asked.

  Adam shook his head. “No, but after that letter, she knows she will need one.” His voice quavered with heartache.

  She’d put it off long enough. Sera unfolded the letter, not recognizing the design of the seal that had closed it. Upon opening the paper, she immediately recognized Cettie’s handwriting. How many letters had she gotten from her friend over the years? She would have known the style anywhere—the slant of the script, the neat scrawl. Just seeing it caused a stab of pain in Sera’s heart. T
he knife went deeper as she started to read.

  Mr. Creigh,

  I am writing to you to bid you farewell. Forever. I am no longer in a position to accept your proposal of marriage. Things have happened in my life that are irrevocable. I have learned truths that have challenged the very core of who I am. This new knowledge has convinced me that I’ve been misguided. I believe you are as well. I will not let you suffer bearing the illusion that we can still fulfill the promises we made to each other. We are very different, you and I. While I have fond memories of our friendship, I believe you acted more out of pity than out of a real regard for my feelings. If you were to see me now, you would certainly be disappointed in me, and I wouldn’t blame you. This parting is for the best. I have no intention of returning to Fog Willows. Be so kind as to pass along this note, along with my permanent resignation, to Lady Maren Fitzroy.

  Knowing what I know now, I could never feel comfortable at that estate again.

  Please do not seek me out. That would only be painful for both of us. I do not wish to be found. The empire of Comoros is a wretched place of abject misery. It has allowed the most downtrodden of all to be smashed under the boot of industry. What I suffered in the Fells still sickens me. I cannot go back. I will not go back. I know you are doing what you feel to be right, and that your honor may drive you to seek me out. Again, I implore you to forbear.

  I do not ever wish to see you again.

  Farewell,

  Cettie

  Sera closed her eyes, feeling the pain wash over her. Cettie had been her closest friend. She was the strong one. The valiant one. This shouldn’t have happened. There was a parcel that Becka had agreed to give to Adam on a special day. Had it been destroyed or confiscated during the usurpation?

  Perhaps it was for the best.

  “What have they done to her?” she whispered harshly.

  “It is her writing . . . but it isn’t her,” Adam said.

  The weariness and despair in his voice made Sera’s own anguish even keener. The words of the letter echoed in her mind. She turned the paper over, studying it. “There is no indication where she sent it from. How did it arrive at Fog Willows?”

  “By zephyr post,” Adam replied. “But I don’t think she’s in our world. It sounds like she’s still over there.”

  Sera shook her head. “Maybe she was compelled to write it.”

  Adam winced. “I don’t think so. But I do think she has been deceived. That she is under the power of unscrupulous people. I would like your permission, Your Highness, to travel to Kingfountain and search for her. I’ve asked you this before, and you did not grant my request. I’m begging you to do so now.” He looked at her with firm resolve, with fierce determination.

  “Even if you could stand on your own, I wouldn’t grant it,” Sera said, shaking her head no.

  “Please!”

  Sera thrust the letter back to him. “Do you understand what is happening, Adam? There is about to be bloodshed on the scale of nothing like we’ve ever seen before. I’ve unloosed it, but not deliberately. It’s not a choice. It’s a punishment . . . for us for how we’ve treated the poor. For them for how they’ve murdered our people. We may both of us be destroyed before this is through. I cannot send you over there. I may as well just hang you from the gallows here.”

  The look of pain in his eyes tortured her.

  “Please, Sera,” he begged. “Let me find her.”

  “How? We don’t have the Cruciger orb anymore. It was stolen, no doubt by Lady Corinne! She was our harbinger, and she’s gone. We don’t have any way of finding her. And you would be killed.” Sera breathed out forcefully. “No. The answer is no.”

  Adam’s face crumpled. “Then I will join the fight. The empire needs surgeons. I can help save lives at least.”

  Sera closed the distance between them and put her hand on his arm. “No. You have always wanted to be a doctor in the Fells, but I have bigger plans for you. You are going to establish a hospital there. I will see that it is paid for, the arrangements made. You will be in charge of it. I have agents there now.”

  His shocked look was still tinged with bitterness.

  “I will make the arrangements. You have done your duty to the empire a thousand times over. You’re not a fleet doctor, Adam. You have always wanted to care for the poor. Well, they are still dying from the cholera morbus. Find a cure for it. Harness your passion for Cettie and do some good in this bloody world.” She saw the tears in his eyes, the grief and despair. It made her own voice thicken. “I’m sorry, Adam. I’m so sorry. She’s my friend too. I mean to find her, and when I do, I will make sure you are the first to know.” She paused, her voice full of meaning. “I haven’t given up on her yet.”

  She tried to smile encouragingly. But it was a frail hope to cling to. Cettie wasn’t the kind of person who exaggerated her feelings. What she’d written in the letter, she’d meant.

  The gray peaks of the distant mountains looked sharp enough to cut through a world. It was a massive range, the shadowed seams still thick with snow that refused to relinquish winter’s hold. It was part of the world Sera had never seen, a spinelike mountain range that formed a border between several kingdoms in the empire. Her life had been confined to Lockhaven and Pavenham Sky, and she realized with a pang of regret that she had visited more of Trevon’s world than her own. That would change now.

  The tempest angled through the narrow crag between two of the largest mountains, and after they passed through it, Cruix Abbey appeared below in a surprising vista that made her gasp in awe. The abbey had been constructed into the cliff face itself, a series of levels and small, squat stone buildings. Even from the heights, Sera could see the trail connecting the abbey to the valley below. They had approached it from behind, and the sky ship had allowed them to bypass the treacherous road.

  Smoke from chimneys wafted up from the abbey as the tempest changed its angle and began to descend to the landing yard far below. The thrill of the drop made Sera tighten her grip on the railing. There were soldiers to escort her, half a dozen blue-jacketed dragoons with arquebuses slung over their shoulders. But she neither knew them nor trusted them. She felt for the Tay al-Ard strapped to her forearm, comforted by its nearness. She would not be using the tempest to get back to Lockhaven.

  After the ship had landed and the gangplank was lowered, Sera walked down with her escort of soldiers. They were greeted by the captain of Law who had been sent to pursue Lady Corinne the night before.

  “Your Highness, welcome to Cruix Abbey.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Did you find her?”

  His frown of disappointment answered her before his words could. “No, Your Majesty. But she was here, masquerading as a pilgrim. Would you like to see the Aldermaston?”

  “I would. Take me to him.”

  “Follow me.”

  They crossed the small courtyard. The cliffs loomed so high in front of her it felt as if the stones would come crashing down as Pavenham Sky had done. The sun had risen past the vault of the mountains, putting the abbey in its shadow.

  Sera had lived in sky manors all her life. Was this what it was like living in the shadow of one? The patches of snow in the heights made her yearn to climb the mountains, to come here as a pilgrim herself. She felt the familiar presence of the Mysteries as she walked deeper into the abbey grounds, sensed the Leerings embedded into the cornice decorations and pillars.

  They entered one of the abbey towers, which was warm and fragrant with the smell of pine needles, and the captain brought her to the Aldermaston, who awaited her in his study. She was surprised to find that he wasn’t alone.

  The Aldermaston of Muirwood was also there, Thomas Abraham, the man she had studied under, the man who had administered the Test for her. Everything about him was familiar and welcome, from his huge gray sideburns to his glasses. The other man, also wearing the cassock of the order, was clean-shaven and had beefy jowls.

  “Aldermaston!” Sera said with a brigh
tness she felt.

  “Welcome to Cruix, Sera,” he replied. “Aldermaston Kearon does not speak your language very well, and he invited me to cross over and lend assistance this afternoon.”

  “Cross over?” Sera asked, perplexed.

  “There are other ways to travel the empire than sky ship,” he said. “I think I know why you are here.”

  Sera turned to the dragoons with her and motioned for them to leave the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, she felt a pulse in her mind, the activation of a Leering. Looking around the room, she tried to discover the source.

  “That will prevent anyone from listening in,” the Aldermaston said. “You are the empress now and have the right to learn certain Mysteries of Thought.”

  “Ich vorland zeen,” said the other Aldermaston, nodding encouragingly.

  “What did he say?” Sera asked.

  “He said we will show you. Come with us.”

  “But Lady Corinne was here, was she not?” Sera pressed. “She came this way?”

  “She did,” the Aldermaston answered. “She poisoned this man and left him unconscious in his study. Several hours passed before concern for him compelled his steward to open the door. He’s lucky to be alive. She has the ability to pass invisibly, we’ve discovered, so there was no trace of her departure. But she did come here. To this very room. It is the entrance, you see, to the vault inside the mountain.”

  “Take me there,” Sera said.

  A floor-to-ceiling picture frame hung on the stone wall behind the desk. The Aldermaston of Muirwood triggered a release on the frame, hidden in the decoration, and pulled on it. A door swung open, revealing a tunnel beyond. The three of them entered the tunnel, which was illuminated by small Leerings set into the rugged walls along the way. The corridor led to a stone door with a Leering set into it.