Evenmere (The Evenmere Chronicles Book 3)

by Stoddard, James

  arched. “For almost a decade you have served as Master, yet

  you have only now, at a time of crisis, come to call. The week

  your father occupied your position, he appeared at once.”

  Carter raised his own eyebrows in surprise, both at the

  man’s presumption and his apparent age. Clearly he was older

  than he seemed, perhaps even as long-lived as Chant. “The

  significance and even the existence of your office eluded me at

  first. As you doubtless recall, I invited you to the Inner

  Chambers as soon as I knew to do so.”

  Phra’s dark eyes lit with perplexity. “This is the Tower of

  Astronomy, the most important structure in Evenmere. You tell

  me you were unaware of its magnitude?”

  “References to the Servants’ Circle are scarce,” Carter

  replied.

  “Your butler should have informed you.”

  “He found nothing to indicate the relationship.”

  “You should replace him. He is clearly incompetent.”

  Carter tried to keep his voice level. “It would have been

  helpful if you, or any of the other members of the Circle, had

  appeared at the Inner Chambers to advise me of your

  positions. Or at least sent word. And I did try to call upon you,

  but you refused to see me.”

  Phra again gave Lord Anderson that expression of half-

  puzzlement, half-contempt. “The Masters have been coming to

  me for generations. I cannot be wandering the house when the

  stars must be watched. The system is too delicate, and I am

  often too busy to receive guests. You should have persevered.

  Look through that glass.”

  Taken aback by the sudden command, Carter grudgingly

  stepped across to the telescope. He adjusted the eye-piece,

  bringing an orange star with six circling planets into focus.

  “What am I seeing?”

  “That is the Lotinius system, once a double star with twice

  as many planets. There are two modes of organization in place

  in Evenmere: the structure of the house affects the overall

  patterns of the stars, and I keep those patterns in balance.

  Three hundred years ago, a group called the Philanthropists

  leveled a portion of Eastwing with fire, causing a shift in the

  universe. This was one of the results: six planets and a sun

  gone. I did what I could. As soon as I sensed the fluctuations, I

  tried to compensate with the astrolabical levers, but the

  damage was too extensive. One of the satellites was inhabited

  by a crude form of animal life. Stars die naturally as part of the

  process of existence, but none should perish before their time.

  As you can see, mine is the greatest responsibility in

  Evenmere; I cannot waste my time with other concerns.”

  Seeing no need to argue the point, Carter asked. “May I

  see the mechanisms you use?”

  “Of course.”

  Phra led through the previously closed door, which opened

  onto a narrow stair. They ascended to a larger chamber

  obviously positioned directly above the dome in the room

  below, for telescopes passed through the floor and beyond to

  the ceiling, making the room a mechanical jumble. At its

  center lay a glass dome with the star field replicated in three-

  dimensional splendor within. Levers, buttons, and valves

  surrounded the dome, covered with mysterious labels such as

  Foumal Ht .

  “From this room,” Phra said, “I regulate the course of the

  stars.”

  “All of it, from this chamber?”

  “There are other controls on the spans crossing the towers,

  but this is the central mechanism.”

  “And the Poetry Men are coming here. What will happen if

  they reach this room?”

  “We must not allow it,” Phra said. “We will not. They must

  not tamper with the stars.”

  “They would do worse than tamper. They are fanatics with

  unbelievable power, who may intend on destroying the

  towers.”

  “No one is that mad.”

  “They are.”

  Phra stood silent, his face growing pale. “If that were to

  happen, order would be lost. Gravity shifts, stellar explosions,

  suns blowing across the universe like fireworks, Existence

  itself losing cohesion. Everything would go.”

  The blood left Carter’s face. Words failed him.

  The two returned to the Main Observation Hall below.

  Some message must have reached the soldiers, for they were

  awake now, sitting in silence beside the mechanisms along the

  walls, guns ready. Jonathan passed among them, giving them

  encouragement.

  “So that is the minstrel,” Phra said. “I have heard of him

  for generations.”

  “Let me introduce you.”

  “Don’t bother,” Phra replied. “He is obviously nothing

  more than a vagabond. He and his little stories may have some

  small place in the Balance, but he certainly does not hold the

  cosmic importance of you and I. Besides, I am not one for idle

  conversation. I will retire to my chambers to await the assault

  with my wife, Blodwen.”

  “Lizbeth told me you were married.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “Some of the other long-lived, such as Enoch and Chant,

  have chosen to remain single.”

  “It is understandable. Our wives age and die, while we do

  not; but I have learned to adapt, and have had several

  companions throughout my life. My assistants will prepare a

  bed for you in our guest quarters.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I will wait with the men. A

  room for Lizbeth would be appreciated.”

  “My people will see to it.” Phra gave a nodding bow and

  retraced his steps up the spiral stair.

  Carter joined Duskin and Lizbeth, who were sitting on a

  pair of low stools.

  “Have a pleasant chat?” Duskin asked.

  “I have never met anyone more aloof.”

  “It’s the danger of having the word ‘Grand’ in your title,”

  Duskin said. “It makes you realize how humble Enoch is, who

  has lived centuries longer.”

  Carter laughed. “Ah, but Enoch is merely in charge of

  Time. As Phra pointed out, he is master of the most important

  thing in Evenmere.”

  “And where would Phra be, without Chant to keep the

  stars lit?” Lizbeth asked.

  “Still, I understand the astronomer’s intensity,” Lord

  Anderson admitted. “Who knows how I would feel if I were

  Master for hundreds of years? Makes you understand why we

  should be replaced now and then.”

  Carter withdrew his pocket-watch and raised his eyebrows

  in concern, for it was after ten o’clock. “Duskin, I must enter

  the dream dimension to guard Jason.”

  “We need you here. Our scouts say the Poetry Men are less

  than a mile from the base of the Tower. An assault may come

  at any moment.”

  “We could wake you, if necessary,” Lizbeth said.

  “That is impossible,” Carter said. “By its nature, once I am

  within the dream, I have to wake myself.”

  He stood in a sudden agony of indecision. “I
will have to

  pass back and forth between waking and sleeping. It’s the only

  way.”

  Carter laid out his bedroll in a quiet nook between the

  spiral stair and the wall. Lying on his back, he spoke the Word

  Which Masters Dreams. The room trembled only slightly, and

  he was soon walking the Inner Chambers once more.

  Chastising himself for his tardiness, he hurried to his son’s

  room. The position of the lamp indicated that Jason was

  asleep. For all Carter knew, Armilus could have already found

  his way into the dream. Why had he wasted time speaking to

  the overblown astronomer? What kind of father was he, to

  forget his son?

  Cursing the paradoxes of the sleeping world, he

  momentarily paced the floor, then spoke the Word Which

  Brings Aid, hoping to summon Sarah or Mr. Hope. To his

  surprise, Jason himself came drifting down the corridor,

  dressed in blue pajamas and looking puzzled.

  “Hello, Papa,” the boy said, as if Carter had never been

  away.

  “Hello, Son.” Carter scooped the lad into his arms,

  hugging him tightly. “I love you so much. You know that,

  don’t you?”

  “I love you too, Papa. Where is Momma?”

  “Oh, this is just a dream you’re having and she isn’t in it.”

  “Oh.” The boy’s brow furrowed thoughtfully.

  “Let’s put you in your bed, and you can tell me about your

  day.”

  Once Jason was tucked in, Carter sat by his bedside. Dread

  welled within him as he thought of deserting his son to return

  to the Tower of Astronomy.

  “We had bread pudding after dinner,” Jason said, “and Mr.

  Hope played ball with me.”

  “You like Mr. Hope, don’t you?”

  “Yes. He’s funny.”

  “Funny old Mr. Hope.”

  Lord Anderson !

  Carter leapt to his feet. The voice came from down the

  hall.

  Carter debated leaving Jason in his bed, but picked him up

  instead.

  “Who is that?” Jason asked.

  “Hush.” Carter went to the door and glanced around its

  corner. The hallway lay in the twilight cast by a single gas-jet

  burning at either end, and a heavy figure waited there, his face

  half-illuminated. Behind him stood the beast Lord Anderson

  thought he had killed, or another exactly like it.

  “Nothing rash, sir,” Doctor Armilus said. “No Words of

  Power, no Lightning Sword. I mean no harm; I want only to

  parley.”

  Keeping close to the doorway, Carter turned sideways,

  putting himself between his son and any weapon the doctor

  might be carrying.

  “I would like to approach, but won’t get too close,”

  Armilus said. “Are you agreeable? A temporary truce?”

  “Come ahead.” Lord Anderson wanted to set Jason down,

  to send him back to his room, but feared doing so, lest this be

  some trick. Carter drew his pistol from beneath his jacket.

  “Far enough,” he said, when the doctor had come within a

  dozen paces.

  Armilus halted. A contest of wills seemed to occur, each

  man waiting for the other to speak first.

  It was Armilus who broke the silence. “As you can see,

  Lord Anderson, I have finally penetrated into the Inner

  Chambers. It was difficult, even with the help of The Book of

  Lore .”

  “What do you want?”

  “To demonstrate my capabilities. Your son, as you must

  realize, is not safe; but let us not lose sight of my goals, of

  which the child plays no part. He is only a pawn, a means of

  controlling you. I am actually fond of children and would

  rather not waste my energies threatening young Jason.”

  Armilus curled his lip in distaste. “A black strategy really,

  rather beneath any of us. I have a proposal.”

  “I won’t relinquish my responsibilities.”

  “So you have said. You are an honorable man, Lord

  Anderson, as was your father before you. A shame that such as

  we are not allies, but …” Armilus gave his massive shoulders

  an almost imperceptible shrug. “Still, for both our sakes, some

  understanding must be reached. The Poetry Men will soon

  assault the Tower of Astronomy. If they destroy it as they did

  Jossing, the consequences are unimaginable.”

  Armilus paused. Carter remained silent, wondering how

  the doctor knew of the invasion.

  “A truce, Lord Anderson. A truce and I vow to never again

  attempt to steal or harm your son. Not only that, but my men

  will do what we can to protect the Tower of Astronomy and

  the rest of the Circle of Servants. In return, you will not

  actively work against my party so long as the Poetry Men are a

  threat, unless you see that we are directly endangering the

  house.”

  “Everything you do endangers the house.”

  Armilus gave the barest smile. “You of all men know

  better. This is not some childish play, utter good against

  complete evil. We are both men of principle. I ask only for

  some leeway. I am rebuilding the party; let me do so. Between

  us, we will end the threat of these poets.”

  In utter weariness of mind and soul, Carter glanced down

  at Jason, not daring to admit how badly Armilus’ presence in

  the Inner Chambers unnerved him. Even now he needed to

  return to the Tower of Astronomy, but could not leave his son.

  Nor could he continue this draining nightly vigil much longer.

  He thought of the attack on Chant and the burning of the

  forest, the death of the Smith of Welkin Well, the annihilation

  of the company at Lookfar Passage. Everywhere, Evenmere

  was besieged. He had thought to divide his energies between

  protecting Jason and saving the house; he should have realized

  he could never do both.

  “A truce,” he finally said. “For tonight, and until the

  Poetry Men are defeated. But if I see that your actions imperil

  Evenmere, I will oppose you. And I will be the judge to decide

  if you cross that line.”

  The doctor gave no hint of emotion. “No arbitration? Very

  well. This is not a time for pride. The stakes are too high. I

  will trust to your honor. We have an agreement.”

  “How can I trust a murderer?”

  “Yes, I have murdered,” the doctor replied, his mouth

  turned down in a scowl. “I have murdered for the greater good.

  I have become hardened to murder for the Great Cause. But I

  do serve a cause; I am not merely a fanatic. The Poetry Men

  are insane; they will kill us all unless we stop them. So you

  have the word of the Supreme Anarchist not to harm your son

  on this or any other night. Jason is free. Good evening, Lord

  Anderson.”

  Armilus touched his hand to the brim of his bowler and

  vanished, leaving Carter trembling in rage and despair.

  “Who was that, Papa?”

  “A very bad man. If you ever see him when you are alone,

  you must run as fast as you can and hide in the deepest corners

  of the house. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

>   “Now let’s get you back to bed.”

  Carter tucked Jason under the covers. “Sweet dreams,

  child. Now return from here to a dreamless sleep.”

  Jason slowly faded away, leaving Carter heartsick and

  alone. He had done that which he had never thought to do. He

  had made a deal with the devil himself; and the consequences

  of that action might bring ruin to all of Existence.

  Battle for the Tower

  Carter brought himself out of the dream dimension,

  waking in the Main Observation Hall to find Phra shaking him

  by the shoulder. “You must rise, Lord Anderson. Our foes are

  nearly upon us.”

  Carter stood at once, unreasonably irritated at the

  astronomer. “What do the men report?”

  “Nothing as yet,” Phra said, “but they soon will. I perceive

  our enemies approaching, burning with an energy akin to that

  of stars. I have never felt anything like it before, except from

  the heavens. Can you sense them?”

  Carter paused, opening himself to the house. “There is a

  slight shifting of the Balance, but nothing more. The

  impressions you are receiving must be related to your

  particular talents.”

  All around the chamber, the soldiers were already on their

  feet, readying their weapons, mostly pistols since battles in

  Evenmere usually involved fighting at close quarters. Duskin

  was speaking to Lieutenant Sedger, the officer in charge of the

  White Circle Guard, a warrior Lord Anderson had known for

  years. Carter gave a wave to the two men, and Duskin broke

  away and strode to his brother’s side.

  “Sir!” a man called to Duskin from the chamber entrance.

  “Captain DuLac sends word that a company is climbing the

  stair.”

  “We’ll be right there.” Duskin turned a pale face to Carter.

  “DuLac is a good officer. He will have a fine career if we live

  until morning. Are you ready?”

  Lord Anderson drew his pistol and Lightning Sword. “Yes.

  Is Lizbeth safe?”

  “As safe as any of us can be. She’s with Phra’s wife in the

  upper chambers.”

  Together the brothers hurried to the downstairs chamber.

  The captain and thirty of the soldiers from North Lowing

  stood crowded into the small room. A heavy table had been

  placed against the double doorway to form a low barricade.

  Carter strode to the opening and stood beside the shrapnel

  cannon, looking down the long stair curving away to the left,