Vespa said, “Your Majesty, it has been our experience that once this type of melding occurs between human and Elemental, they become an entirely different creature. Reason and appeal to human decency never worked with Charles after he accepted the Grue. Lucy seems to show the same condition.”
“Is there no magic that can separate them?” Olivia asked.
Vespa looked at Bayne.
“That has not been tried, Majesty,” he said. “Perhaps some Elemental magic might separate them, but we would not even know how to begin. There is the danger of killing them both, which is against the Great Law. No Elemental would aid in that.”
“That Law may need to be changed,” Syrus said darkly.
“Then what are you both suggesting we do?” Olivia said at last.
Bayne said, “Flee, Your Majesty. My family’s airship can take you to Scientia, where there are powerful fortifications and defenses. You can at least buy yourself some time and decide what to do there. And we should warn them of what is coming.”
“But might something also be wrong in Scientia? I have not yet been able to fully decipher the message, but it is most certainly a code. What if there is danger there, too?” Olivia said.
“That is very possible, Your Majesty. But it seems to be our only option. There is no way we could make the harbor and commission a ship elsewhere before Ximu’s army overtook us,” Bayne said.
“But what of my people? What of this City we have worked so hard to rebuild?”
Bayne shook his head. “We must warn them and take whomever we can with us. The Sullen Harpy is a large airship, but she cannot accommodate everyone. The sooner the better, so the choices they need to make can be made in time. Ximu will not wait long to cross the water, I promise you that. We’ve called Council for this afternoon. You can make your decree on what should be done then.”
Olivia’s face was ashen, and she cradled the bandage on her neck as if it pained her all the more for the news she’d just heard. Vespa understood how difficult it must be for her. Olivia had been trapped in the Tower all her life. Like all of them, she’d believed the story was simple and easy—that once the Elementals were freed, all would be right again with the world.
They’d all been wrong.
“Is there nothing else that can be done?” Olivia asked.
“I would advise sending your guard, and anyone who is willing to stand with them, to the River, but they will only buy us a little time,” Bayne said. “Without a standing army, there is no way we can turn back the tide.”
Olivia nodded. Her jaw was stiff as she said, “Escort me back to the warehouse.”
Council was called in Olivia’s receiving room. The faded elegance of the room’s furnishing seemed a palpable reminder of all they were about to lose. It was chilly, and Vespa rubbed her arms, wishing for a coat. They’d left Syrus at home, presumably to pack but mostly to rest and allow Truffler to minister to him and his wounds.
A contingent of the Empress’s guard had been dispatched to watch the River bank. “At the first sign of trouble, send a messenger to let us know,” Olivia had said to them. “Do not try to be brave. You are meant only to give us information. Do whatever you must to protect yourselves.”
The fauns had bowed, and their new Captain had said, “We will do what we must to keep your realm safe, Majesty.”
Vespa had struggled to hide her tears as she watched them go.
That had been several hours ago, and now the last of the Councilors were finally straggling in. Half of them were elected from the surrounding Forest and the River—the most powerful of the Elemental denizens. Doctor Parnassus took his place next to a naiad who huddled uncomfortably in a tub of water that had been brought for her. There was also a hamadryad—hemlock, by the looks of his dark pointed leaves and even darker eyes—who was already snoring at the table. The rest had been elected from the human population that resided in New London. There was some restlessness and shuffling, but Vespa could see that none of them had any idea what news was about to be thrown at their feet.
Olivia came through the door near the dais. She was still very pale. Her hair had been put up, and she wore a high-collared gown to hide the bandage over the xiren bite. Vespa noticed that the skin looked raw just above the collar, and Olivia pulled it higher as if to avoid scrutiny.
Still, she stood on her own, and her gaze was serene as she looked at everyone. “Please be seated,” Olivia said.
Chairs scraped as people sat. The naiad leaned closer to the table.
“Some of you may have heard that our Imperial Unnaturalists have brought us grave news. Pedants Lumin and Nyx, would you care to share your findings with us?” she asked.
Vespa deferred to Bayne, and he reported. The mere mention of Ximu, her joining with Lucy Virulen, her history and plans, made the air above the table thicker and darker. Many Elementals shook their heads, but others had grim looks that made Vespa wonder if they’d known more than she’d thought.
Everyone was silent at the end. The weight of all of Bayne’s warnings hung heavy in the air. There had been many a Council meeting that had gone awry because he’d insisted there should be a standing army, a Wall, magical protection—all things Olivia had refused to allow because she believed in peace.
Murmurs began around the table.
Bayne raised his hand for silence. “I have one question for our Elemental brethren before we move on.”
All of them looked at him warily.
“How many of you knew that the Umbrals had been released? And, if you knew, why did you not tell us?”
They looked at one another, and then someone elbowed the hamadryad, their spokesman. He cleared his throat with a sound like leaves being swept from stone, and said, “We suspected that perhaps the freeing of Tianlong had also freed those who had been bound in the Great War. We were gathering evidence to place before this Council in hopes of persuading Her Majesty to pursue greater fortifications. We were apparently too late.”
“Apparently,” Bayne said.
“What should we do?” a human woman asked. Her name was Verity, and she was the head of the newly formed baker’s guild. Piskel especially liked her because she often brought pastries to Council meetings. She had not done so today, and Piskel was sulking on the table next to Vespa’s elbow because of it.
Olivia spoke, her words cracking with emotion. “I believe we must evacuate our fair City. It has been made clear to me that we will not be able to treat with the enemy in any reasonable fashion.”
The chorus of voices rose beyond a murmur this time.
Bayne stood and held his hand up for silence again. “There are several things we can do to help us prepare. Vespa and I can work to craft some sort of shield. It will be weak, but it may buy us some time. We can help people decide where they will go and by what method. Some can be escorted to the harbor and take ship for Newtonia and Babbageburg. Others may wish to take their chances and shelter with the Elementals in the Forest, though I’d not advise that. Depending on the capacity of the airship, we will certainly take as many as we can that way. The Grimgorn Ambassador has been alerted and is even now drawing up his recommendations for us.”
Bayne had to shout his final words. “But all this must be done in an orderly fashion! If we allow panic to overtake us, then we will certainly doom more people than we will save.”
Orderly fashion? Vespa resisted the urge to shake her head. The panic had already begun. Everyone would be running over top of one another to get out as soon as they left this room.
Then shouting came at the door. A faun sentry burst through it, his eyes white with fear and his jacket smeared with blood. He was one of those who had been sent to the River.
Vespa hoped he wasn’t the only one remaining, but her worst fears were confirmed when he shouted, “The xiren have crossed the River! We held back what we could, but they’re invading the City!”
Bayne’s eyes took on a feverish glow. He turned to Vespa. “Take the Empress an
d get her ready. Pack only the most necessary things. I’ll get the Ambassador and the Captain.”
Vespa nodded.
“Piskel,” she said, “warn Syrus and Truffler, if you please. Tell them to meet us at the airship landing stage.”
His sulking completely forgotten, Piskel nodded and zipped out through the open door.
Vespa hurried to Olivia’s side, fighting the teeth-clenching fear that seized her. “Let’s get you to the airship, Your Majesty.”
CHAPTER 13
I’m woken by Piskel barreling into me and pulling my eyelids open to make sure I’m fully awake. He’s squeaking and so brilliant that I bat him out of my face in protest, covering my eyes from the blue spots that swirl behind my eyelids.
I sit up on my pallet, wiping the cobwebs of nightmares from my eyes. I have no idea how I could sleep at a time like this, but I’m sure I’m still feeling the effects from Ximu’s poison. My entire body aches, but I’m comforted by the sight of my workshop rather than the horror of the caverns under the Museum.
“Piskel, you melonhead, what in the Seven Hells is wrong with you?”
I understand all too quickly when he begins marching back and forth in the air.
“The army is on the move, then.”
He blows himself up like one of those dried puffer fish I used to see in the market and makes hurrying gestures.
“Meet them at the airship, eh?”
He deflates and nods.
I stand up and start gathering things into a pile, looking for my satchel, but it’s out of restless habit rather than focused intention.
“What about my people? What will be done?” I am thinking of all of them in the cavern, wrapped in scarlet silk, poisoned and ill. It makes me sick to think that I didn’t save them, that I left them to their fates because I was too concerned about my own.
But what can I do now? If I stay, I will certainly be captured, and I obviously am not very good at rescue missions on my own. If I go, perhaps there will be another opportunity. Perhaps. I grit my teeth.
Then I hear the weeping.
I follow the sound into the parlor. Truffler is there by the hearth, weeping over cold ashes. It occurs to me that if I stay, these two may not live to regret it.
“Old man,” I say against the pain in my heart, “you’d better save your tears for when the water runs out.” Though I, too, could weep thinking about my uncle Gen. I pray he did not choose his fate. I pray that Ximu has somehow enthralled him and that I can break him free. I cannot bear, no matter what I’ve said, to think of him as a willing traitor.
Truffler turns then and rushes to me, hugging me hard around the leg. Piskel floats down to pat him on his hairy head.
“Worried,” Truffler sniffs.
“Well, that makes three of us. And now we really have to get out of here.”
He nods and holds up the satchel I was looking for. “Already started packing.”
We grin at each other then, and to the sounds of shouts outside, we tear around the house picking up whatever we can find that seems of use.
I gather up my pile of tools. Piskel comes to me mournfully clasping his little knit blanket and muttering about how he supposes he’ll have to leave the basket behind.
I take the blanket and put it in the satchel. Piskel drifts around looking at other things he’s collected and eyeing me every now and then to see if I’ve taken the hint.
“Look, whatever we can carry, we’ll take. Hao ma?”
He turns practically plaid with pleasure and starts picking up everything he can carry in his tiny arms. Bits of shell, thimbles, curls of ribbons—who knew sylphs were such awful pack rats?
I sigh and turn to my workbench. So many things I was working on—all now pointless. I take the few tools I think might be of most use and are lightest. I spy the golden egg, the gift bearing the strange message that was given to Olivia, and scoop that up. And of course I pack the dartpipe and darts. There’s no way to be fully prepared—I can’t imagine what lies in wait in Scientia.
I run upstairs to see if there’s anything in Bayne’s or Vespa’s rooms. But in Vespa’s room I’m immediately confounded by the stockings hanging everywhere, the drawers over the warped dressing screen, the scattered books.
Manticore save us, but she’s a messy girl!
I pick up the closest book I see lying by her cot—something about dreams—and shove it in the bag.
Bayne’s room is austere and gentlemanly. Everything is neatly put away, which surprises me, considering how pampered he must have been by servants in his former life. I don’t see anything I can take. Hanging from one of the doors of the battered wardrobe is his family sword, snapped in half by the Raven Guard. He’d found it in the rubble and hung it here, I guess, as a reminder of what he’d lost.
I hurry down to the library. All these books they’d collected and I’d started translating about to be lost. That burns me more than anything. I half wish we’d left them where we’d found them or made some other safe Archive elsewhere. Bayne planned to do that against such a time as this, but that time has come sooner than any of us imagined.
I swipe a few instruments that are lying about—a retrofitted tattler, some old null-goggles—and that’s all I can manage. Truffler lumbers in from the kitchen bringing what’s left of the cheese, bread, and sausage I’d gotten last at market.
Piskel whimpers a bit about there being no cake.
“Let’s hope there’s some where we’re going, my friend.”
I unlock the door to absolute chaos. “Stay close,” I say to both of them. Truffler looks back into the house where we’ve lived. He wasn’t keen on living here, but he did so. Now I feel I should give him the choice to go back to the Forest if he wants.
I kneel quickly before him. “Look, old man, if you don’t want to go with us, you don’t have to.” Piskel has obviously done better than one could expect, being parted from his home in the high grasslands, but Truffler? I don’t know.
He shakes his head. “Let you go before. Not going to again.”
“All right, then. Follow as best you can. I won’t leave you behind.”
The black tide rises over the edge of the City, reminding me of nothing so much as the Creeping Waste. To think we thought ourselves so very free, only to have gotten trapped in an even bigger mire!
I have heard that there is little to no magic in the Old World. I’m beginning to think it would be an excellent place to live.
The news spreads through the streets like fire. I witness some of the first lootings as the madness spreads. My heart burns in my chest. In so many seconds a year’s worth of careful work is undone by fear.
I never want to be driven by fear like this again.
The way back to the airship is not the straight line I hoped. I can hear rallying cries coming from the way I planned to go. Some valiant fools have chosen to stand and fight the xiren, and though their attempts are largely in vain, still I can see the line shifting through smoke and fire. Great sections of the new City have burst into flame.
A terrified cart horse that’s torn free of most of its harness careens down the road.
“Now’s our chance,” I say. I run out, heedless of thrashing hooves, and grab what remains of the bridle. I lift Truffler up and then swing up behind him. I honestly haven’t ridden more than a pony or donkey in my time and never faster than a trot, but interesting times make for interesting adventures, so Nainai once said.
Maddened by fear, the horse is easily motivated to keep going. The only problem is keeping him going in the direction I want him to go. I lean low over Truffler, gripping the horse’s heaving sides with my knees. Piskel holds on to me, and I’d swear he’s almost chirping with joy. Melonhead.
I get the horse pointed in the right direction, and he runs through fire and smoke, bullets sometimes whizzing past us. I see my first xiren just as a clear space opens to the airship. A great dome of clear air shimmers around the airship. Vespa and Bayne are shielding i
t as best they can.
The xiren’s golden facial markings gleam in the roiling smoke. I see them right before I see the long-handled sword that slices my horse’s legs out from under me. I’m only just able to clasp Truffler to me and roll across the pavement away from the foe. Weak and dizzy, I stumble up, trying to see him again through the smoke before he cuts us both in half.
I fumble for my dartpipe but come up with a sausage. I cannot believe I am going to die with a sausage in my hand against the most ancient enemy of my people when the way to my escape is only a few yards away.
He advances on me, scarlet fangs erupting. And then his torso is crashing to the ground, and his legs are following it in a spurt of black blood.
Bayne steps through the smoke, holding the magical blade I’ve seen him summon up before when times demanded it.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were coming,” he says. He looks down at the sausage. “Most impressive weapon I’ve seen in quite a while.”
“I thought Architects followed the Great Law?” I say.
“We bend the Law when it suits our purpose. And that wasn’t fully an Elemental anyway, correct?”
He’s right about that. At least part of the xiren is human, albeit a very small part.
We grin at each other, and then he nods toward the ship. “Come on. We can’t hold this much longer. They say the main force is only a few streets over. We’ll soon be engulfed.”
I stuff the sausage back in the bag and take Truffler’s hand. We follow Bayne down the alley toward the only hope we have left.
CHAPTER 14
Vespa had refused to go on board when she’d first been told to, arguing that she could protect the ship better if she was outside it. That was only partially true. In reality, she just couldn’t stand being closed in not knowing what was happening.
The ship billowed and pulsed next to her like an unhomed sea creature. Its silver sides expanded and contracted as if it were breathing. She could hear people speaking through its skin. For a moment she almost wondered if the Grimgorns had magicked some poor Elemental into serving as a vessel, but she wasn’t sure how that was possible.
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