by Brandon Mull
“Your nickname should be ‘Granny,’ ” Jace said.
“Ha-ha,” Mira replied. “I’m not an adult who looks like a kid. I’m a kid who never became an adult. Years going by isn’t the same as aging. I don’t change. I’ve always been treated like I’m eleven. I’ve always looked eleven. I’ve never really felt any older than that.”
“But you’ve lived for so long,” Twitch said.
“I’m sure I know more than a normal eleven-year-old,” she said. “I just don’t feel older. How could I? I’ve never been older.”
“You must have watched other people get old,” Cole said.
Mira brushed some stray hairs from her eyes. “Not for long. We moved a lot. Looking back is weird. I was ten so long ago. It’s been forever since I’ve seen anyone in my family. I saw Durny age, though, since he stayed with me.”
“Durny was your bodyguard?” Jace asked.
“My second protector. The first, Roderick, eventually got old and died. Even though we moved around, my mother has a way to find me. Many shapers have specialties. My mother has two—visions and the stars. Those abilities complement each other. She can find her daughters wherever we roam. She sent Durny to me after she sensed that Roderick had died.”
“You know,” Declan said, “I met your older sisters once—Elegance and Honor. They were quite young at the time. It was during my last visit to Junction, when I was first beginning to suspect that your father was not to be trusted. I should have given more serious heed to my instincts.”
“How did you recognize Mira?” Jace asked.
“I understand a thing or two about shaping, boy,” Declan said. “I can sense the power of a shaper. Her power has been stripped from her, and it is connected to a gathering mass of shaping energy elsewhere in Sambria. But a lesser portion of her gift is slowly returning to her. Only one girl in all the Outskirts would fully match that description.” His expression softened. “You poor child. You have endured some trying years. Sadly, I fear it will only get worse from here.”
“What should I do?” Mira asked.
“That’s the question. You shouldn’t stay here, and you shouldn’t go either, yet we have to do something. How much do you know about what your father did to you?”
“I know he took my power,” she said. “I still don’t understand how.”
“You’re not alone there,” Declan assured her. “It defies all knowledge of shaping.”
“I know I stopped aging,” Mira went on. “I know my power has slowly started coming back. And now Father has sent hundreds of legionnaires after me.”
“You know so little?” Declan asked, his voice sad. “We definitely need to talk.”
Twitch sat down on the floor, legs crossed. Cole did likewise, followed by Jace.
“I apologize again for the seating arrangements,” Declan said.
“This isn’t bad,” Cole assured him.
Declan shook his head. “Chilly and hard.”
“What can you tell me about my father?” Mira asked, not sitting, eyes intense.
“Not everything,” Declan said. “But I can shed some light on a few matters. Please, have a seat. This may take some time.”
CHAPTER
21
ANSWERS
“How often do you corresponded with Harmony?” Declan asked after Mira sat.
“Mother only contacts me indirectly,” Mira said.
“No messages?” Declan verified.
“Not really. She recently tried. She has a signal for when danger is coming. It can also lead messengers or new protectors to me.”
“Where is your current protector?”
“He just died. We got into trouble at a sky castle. Mother had sent her warning signal, so he was trying to collect floatstones to make a skycraft for our escape from Skyport, but he got killed. Then today, a messenger arrived right before a large group of legionnaires. I never got the message. I can only assume it was a warning that my father had found me. I wouldn’t have escaped Skyport without help from my friends.”
“These boys stepped in,” Declan said, sizing them up. “I take it you have names?”
“Jace.”
“I’m Cole.”
“They call me Twitch.”
“Three young slaves escaped from the Sky Raiders,” Declan said. “Not the most likely escorts for a princess of the highest royal family in the five kingdoms. Were you all born in Sambria?”
“I was,” Jace said. “I’ve been a slave since I can remember.”
“I was born in Elloweer,” Twitch said.
“I’m from Earth,” Cole said.
“Liam mentioned you,” Declan told Cole. “How did you arrive here?”
“Slave traders took my friends. I came here to help them but got caught.”
“You arrived voluntarily?” Declan asked.
“Nobody forced me,” Cole said. “I didn’t really know what I was getting into.”
“Interesting. A newly minted slave, I take it?”
“Just a couple of weeks. Two of my closest friends were taken to be slaves of the High King. Mira promised to help me find them.”
“And I’ll keep that promise,” Mira assured him.
The old man gave half a smile. “We will converse later, young man.” He studied Mira. “What do you know about all that has transpired since you went into hiding?”
“I know the basics,” Mira said. “We tried to stay informed. Father drove the Grand Shapers into exile. All except Paulus, who joined him. He set up governors to replace the Grand Shapers in the other four kingdoms.”
“Correct,” Declan approved. “Your father tries to pretend the Grand Shapers surrendered our posts willingly. That we retired.”
“People don’t believe that nonsense,” Jace said.
“You might be surprised,” Declan said. “As time goes by, it becomes easier to accept the claims of the current government, the one right in front of you, the one controlling the present. For example, the governors Stafford established have now taken to calling themselves kings. Even the Grand Shapers seldom emphasized that title.”
“How did you end up here?” Mira asked.
Declan looked around, as if reminding himself of his surroundings. “I knew of this place before your father moved to unseat me. More than any feature in Sambria, the cloudwalls have always fascinated me. As I made a study of them, I discovered this space behind the Eastern Cloudwall. I managed to access it by a roundabout fashion and decided it might prove a refuge in time of peril. When Stafford came after me, I fled here with some key members of my household and a pair of my most promising pupils. And here we have stayed, biding our time. All you see here, we shaped from scratch.”
“Were Asia, Jamar, and Liam with you from the start?” Cole asked.
“Asia and Jamar. Liam came later. All have great potential and significant ability, but none are ready to assume my duties as Grand Shaper. Asia is too harsh, and her shaping skills too narrow. Jamar is too interested in pleasing others. And Liam, the most gifted by far, is also the least serious. I’m not sure he will ever learn to focus, to plan, to lead.”
“Sounds like you want to retire,” Jace said.
Declan chuckled wheezily. “Look at me! I was never a strong man. My body is shutting down. I’ve lived far more than my share of years; many regular life spans. Even my mind shows signs of flagging. Let’s see, we have Cole, like the fuel. Twitch, like his mannerisms. And, I’m sorry, you are?”
“Jace.”
“Yes, of course. But it escaped me. Not long ago I could have learned a hundred names once and repeated them back a week later. My short-term memory begins to wane. I’ve held this post for too long, but how am I supposed to find and train a worthy successor from here? My refuge is also my prison. I would like nothing more than to be Grand Shaper emeritus. But reality doesn’t always align with our preferences.”
“How many other people live here?” Mira asked.
Declan blinked at her. �
��Actual people? You’ve met them all. Me, Jamar, Asia, and Liam. The rest are semblances.”
“What about the others you brought with you?” Jace asked.
“The people who came with me have passed away,” Declan said. “Only those with potent shaping skills can slow the aging process, as my apprentices have. With clearer foresight I might have brought more couples, but there was little time. One couple formed from those I brought, but they were unable to have offspring. The last of my regular staff passed on almost ten years ago.”
“Others must have come through the cloudwall,” Twitch said.
“The last explorers we know of came here more than fifty years ago,” Declan said. “We only rescued three out of the dozens aboard the large skycraft. Liam wasn’t with us yet, so our flying semblances were much less sophisticated. The trio we rescued have since died.”
“When did Liam get here?” Cole asked.
Declan folded his hands and frowned, making him look like an elderly hospital patient who didn’t like what he’d been served for lunch. “Liam came looking for me almost twenty years ago, and he found his way here in the same way I did, through the Boomerang Forest.”
“Why was he looking for you?” Mira asked. “Was he a messenger?”
“No,” Declan said. “He was a young, powerful shaper in search of a teacher. He had been taken as a slave but used his shaping to escape.”
“Wait a minute,” Cole said. “Liam? Did he make a talking happy face on a slave wagon?”
“Possibly,” Declan said. “He had great talent at a tender age. I have done my best to instruct him, though our styles are very different. Much of what he does can’t be taught or learned. He shapes by instinct. But I’m rambling. The old man’s curse. You get lonely and your mind gets lazy, and you ramble. The topic should be Miracle and her father, Stafford Pemberton.”
“What can you tell me?” Mira asked.
“Until you girls were divided from your powers, I had never imagined such a feat was possible. When Harmony first told me, I scarcely believed her. Though your father comes from a line of skilled shapers, the talent apparently skipped a generation. I had the opportunity to assess him when he was young. He had ordinary shaping ability, nothing more. But what might I have missed? I had no idea the shaping power itself could be manipulated, so in his case, I may not have known what to look for.”
“I never saw him do much shaping,” Mira said. “I learned from my mother and from private tutors.”
“Stafford was not gifted in the traditional ways,” Declan said. “That much I can confirm. Yet he hid his mediocrity well, mostly by avoiding chances to shape in public. By all reports, each of his daughters and his wife were easily his superior. I know from experience that Harmony, Elegance, and Honor all practically glowed with ability. Conclusion? Either your father has unique talent, or he has access to arcane knowledge otherwise lost to the rest of us.”
“Have you any idea where he could have learned something like that?” Mira asked.
Declan gave a little shrug. “Here we enter the realm of conjecture. There are whispers of his elite Enforcers, claims that they possess unusual shaping skills. Do they all share the same secret? I have some talent with every known aspect of shaping, yet after learning that it was possible, I have utterly failed to touch the shaping power itself to any degree, despite years of study and effort. Stafford is either vastly my superior, or else he knows some technique that eludes me.”
“Have you talked to other Grand Shapers?” Mira wondered. “Perhaps the key lies with some other discipline.”
Declan rubbed the end of his cane. “Possible. The way shaping works in each kingdom is unique. The shaping in Creon is almost unrecognizable from the shaping here. I have only risked communication with Harmony. I’m not sure how to reach the others. None of us are eager to expose ourselves by reaching out too boldly. Honestly, despite the differences, I fail to see how the shaping styles in Zeropolis, Elloweer, Creon, or Necronum could take hold of the shaping ability any more than the shaping we practice here in Sambria.”
“Then what do we do?” Mira asked.
“Keep your eyes open and your wits about you,” Declan suggested. “There has to be an answer to this riddle. Learning how your powers were taken could prove vital to fighting back.”
Mira huffed cynically. “It might be too late to fight back. I’d settle for avoiding him.”
“I understand,” Declan said. “Your father has more control over the Outskirts than any ruler in memory. I’ve hidden here for years—studying, planning, scheming, and taking little action. But an old man can dream.”
“After all this time, why are my powers returning?” Mira wondered.
Declan smiled, creases radiating from his eyes. He pointed at her, the finger gnarled and bony. “Now we shift to the most important topic. Have you regained many of your former abilities?”
“Just a little,” Mira said. “Only the most basic shaping. Nothing like before my powers were taken.”
“And you were just beginning to tap your potential,” Declan said. “Your father has been using your combined powers to assert dominance over the five kingdoms. After you five disappeared, he began to gradually reveal his new abilities. There was no reason for most to suspect he had not enjoyed such power all along. Who would dare oppose a man who was not only High Shaper, not only commander of the legion, but also adept in all five major styles of shaping? He has dealt harshly with any who opposed him. Except now—word has it that his abilities are suddenly waning.”
“Why?” Mira asked.
“Whatever unorthodox shaping bound your skills to him is unraveling,” Declan said. “But only a fraction of the power is returning to you. Most of it is gathering elsewhere in Sambria.”
“To someone else?” Mira asked angrily.
“Evidently not,” Declan said. “Liam and I have carefully traced the connections. Your power is running wild, Mira. On its own. Somehow, it is evolving into a mighty semblance.”
“What?” Mira exclaimed.
“I know,” Declan said, both palms raised, the skin there the smoothest and youngest-looking on his body. “It’s unprecedented. But your power has organized itself into some kind of entity.”
“Father stealing my power is one thing,” Mira said. “But how can my power exist outside of a person?”
“It remains connected to you. After all, it is your power. If you perish, it will perish with you. For this reason, your father meant to hold you prisoner, not kill you. Had you died, Stafford would have lost that portion of your ability he stole. The same is true now, except your power is operating independently.”
“How can my power have a mind of its own?” Mira asked.
Declan spread his hands. “I don’t know how the separation was accomplished in the first place, so it is difficult to speculate about what is going on. I assume it relates to how we develop a mind for a semblance. Perhaps some aspect of your father has united with your power and changed it into something new. Perhaps dividing you from your talent eventually allowed it to shape itself. I can only guess. What we know for sure is that your power was recently wreaking havoc outside the town of Alvindale.”
“What was it doing?” Cole asked.
“No witnesses who got close escaped to tell the tale,” Declan said. “Same with the semblances Liam sent to spy—many failed to return. Those that came back brought only anecdotes. The people are calling it Carnag.”
“What?” Mira exclaimed. “Carnag is my shaping power?”
“You’ve heard of it?” Declan asked.
“Everyone has heard of it!” Mira said. “Sambria is in an uproar!”
“I suppose they would be,” Declan muttered. “There are dozens of incorrect origin stories. Accounts from a distance are unanimous that your power is leveling homes, scattering herds, tearing down trees, and erratically reshaping the countryside. Many people have disappeared.”
Mira held a hand over her mouth. She looke
d stricken. “It’s because of me? I’m hurting people? I’m wrecking communities? My power is out there causing harm, just like my power helped my father take control of the five kingdoms.”
“It’s involuntary,” Declan soothed.
“Maybe, but it’s still my fault.”
“Your father caused it. Not you.”
“If I were dead, this wouldn’t be happening.”
Declan raised his eyes and shook his head. “Why are the young so dramatic? And so rash?”
Mira looked irritated. “How should I feel?”
“You should think,” Declan said. “Solve the problem. Don’t leap to suicide as the best option.”
“Are there other options?” Mira asked.
“I should hope so,” Declan said. “There is a great deal of energy involved. Not passive energy that you could potentially summon. Active energy is out there, interacting with the world. Your power is free from any physical limitations your mind or body would have imposed. It’s pure, unrestrained, and volatile. Cut off that energy from its source, and we could have a disaster of epic proportions. Killing yourself would certainly destroy your power. The question then becomes how much of Sambria would be destroyed along with it.”
“It would explode?” Jace asked.
“Or worse,” Declan said. “That much unrestrained power wouldn’t go quietly.”
“Then what can I do?” Mira pressed.
Declan placed his palms together, tapping his fingers. “Here is where we must make some choices. Your father is desperate to reclaim you and your sisters. He wants to regain your powers, and he certainly doesn’t want you using your powers against him. Maybe he knows your powers are gathering outside of you, maybe not.”
“He sent hundreds of soldiers for her,” Cole pointed out. “They spoke about going after Carnag afterward.”
Declan gazed at Mira. “Your father was searching for you before now. But perhaps not desperately. He had your powers, you were out of the picture, and it had been smooth sailing for decades. His situation was not particularly urgent. It would have been safer to have you under lock and key, but it wasn’t essential. However, with his stolen talents fading, matters have changed. Going forward, all of his resources will be turned toward finding you and your sisters.”