She was trying to think of anything that would distract her from the truth. New London had fallen. All their work and effort to rebuild had been in vain. And all because, above all things, they had hoped for and believed in peace. It hurt her soul to think of how all the people who had survived the Emperor and the Rousing and who had stayed to rebuild would now be sacrificed to Ximu’s need for vengeance.
There was nothing she could do to help them now, though. There was nothing she could change. She could only focus on the very small hope that somehow Bayne could find Syrus, and they could all leave for Scientia before the xiren overran the airship.
She stared back toward the fall of the City. She’d been furious at herself and Bayne for not forcing Syrus and Truffler to come with them to the Council meeting after they’d rescued him. But when she saw them all plunge through the smoke and back under the shield, she was able to swallow her heart back down to its normal position.
The ship’s Captain was worried that he wouldn’t be able to get the kind of lift he needed. The winds weren’t at all favorable; everything was far too still. Vespa frankly wasn’t sure how the thing was flying at all. As far as she knew, all such conveyances had been powered by mythgas. Olivia had banned the use of myth throughout the Empire after the Rousing, so Vespa was left to wonder. It disturbed her to think that she might be using the very thing she’d fought to stop, but there was no choice now. She just hoped the thing could get off the ground before the xiren managed to tear it to shreds.
Bayne and Syrus rushed up to her, looking quite the worse for wear. Truffler nodded at her.
“Vespa, take Truffler up the ramp. Syrus and I will help get the remaining guy ropes unhitched.”
“But how will you get in the ship?” she asked.
“Just . . . do as I ask,” Bayne said. He was covered in bloody slime, and his coat was singed around the edges. He was stretched close to snapping, she could tell.
Vespa couldn’t help but ask one more thing. “Have we gotten everyone on board we possibly can?”
She could still see people weaving frantically through the smoke, and the dark xiren forming ranks as they converged on the airship.
Bayne looked at her for a long moment. “We have done all we can. And if we don’t leave now, everything will be in vain. Everything.”
Vespa swallowed the words of denial. She longed for the power of the Heart again. She would have swept through the army of shadowspiders as if they were bowling pins on the green lawn of Virulen. But she didn’t have the Heart, and she couldn’t control her own power. It was quite possibly the most frustrating moment she’d ever encountered. She was a witch with more power than any born in generations, and yet she couldn’t use it when she needed it most, to save those she loved.
Bayne seemed to know what she was thinking. There was something in his gaze that said he wanted to offer comfort, but there was no time.
“Go now,” he said, his voice harsh and low.
Vespa did as he asked, helping Truffler up the ramp. The poor hob was crying, and she could imagine how his heart hurt to think of his beloved Forest under threat again.
“We’ll do all we can once we’re safe,” she said to him. “You know we will.”
He nodded, but she didn’t know whether he believed her.
They climbed up the gangplank and into the holding bay where crewmen, guards, and others were frantically shifting cargo around to make way for people, their trunks, and whatever else they could fit inside. Vespa tried not to see the wide-eyed children clinging to their mothers, or the elders who’d stayed in New London because they’d had nowhere else to go after the Rousing.
Many of them looked at her with hard eyes—their savior fallen from her pedestal. She thought she heard a whispered curse or two before she turned with Truffler to climb toward the passenger decks.
The ship’s purser was directing people to accommodations. This was one of the luxury airships that had often traveled between Scientia and New London filled with passengers on a southern jaunt, so it had many rooms and levels. Vespa had heard of such airliners but had never had the occasion to travel on one.
“Room 313! Up the stairs and then down the corridor to the left,” the purser yelled at her before she could even ask. After she and Truffler climbed the stairs, Vespa saw that the corridor was lit by everlanterns. She leaned forward to inspect one while Truffler shied away. He felt the magic too.
“They’re using myth, aren’t they?” Vespa asked him.
He nodded, his eyes narrowing in anger.
She stared at her own greenish reflection in the lamp-glass, almost in disbelief. She knew what they were running from, but could what they were running toward be just as bad? She remembered the Phoenix as it had unfurled its message, and she wished she knew what it had said.
Still, there was no choice. She led him down to Room 313.
“Will you be all right here?” she asked the hob as they entered. She knew the Elementals didn’t much like iron or steel. There was plenty of it here, but she thought she could probably make a little nest for him on the floor that would be more comfortable than resting in the iron bunk.
“Fine,” he said, though he hardly sounded like it. “How many days?”
“Five, I think,” Vespa said, though she wasn’t entirely certain. As a girl bent on exploration, she’d always looked toward the sea and Newtonia. She’d calculated every possible route that way but never had much looked north. There had been the Waste to consider, after all.
It had been adventure she’d been after back then, anyway. She smiled bitterly to think at how a year had changed things. Today she was sure that adventure was far more trouble than it was worth, and she’d trade all of it for a warm cup of tea and intelligent conversation by the hearth. How foolish she’d been to think otherwise!
The ship rocked against its moorings, and she gripped the bed railing. Truffler sat down on the floor, put his arms over his head, and curled into a moaning ball.
“It’ll be all right, Truffler, I promise,” she found herself saying over and over.
She felt the shield go down outside the ship so that it could fly free. Now were the crucial moments, and she was stuck alone in a room with a terrified hob.
Vespa went and put her arms around him, resting her cheek against the coarse hair of his head. It was as much to comfort herself as him. He smelled of mushrooms and lichen and leaf mold.
“You must love Syrus very much to come on this journey,” she whispered. “I know he appreciates your bravery.”
Truffler uncovered part of his face and peered at her with one dark eye.
“He’s going to need you more than ever soon, I imagine,” she said. “Can you keep being brave?”
“Will try,” the hob grunted. “Want to sleep now.” Hobs tended to be nocturnal, so it was no wonder he was exhausted now.
“Good fellow. Yes, of course.” Vespa got up again, and the ship rocked her back toward the bed. She scooped up some blankets and dumped them on the floor near the hob. “I assume you’ll want to avoid the bed.”
He nodded and crept into the pile of blankets, huddling down in them until he couldn’t be seen.
“I’ll bring Syrus to you as soon as he’s aboard and we’re aloft.”
All she heard from Truffler was another grunt before he was snoring assiduously.
She closed the door carefully behind her, frowning again at the line of everlanterns that led her down the corridor. She heard shouts as she got closer to the hold. There was a vast discharge of air, and cries of “Aloft!”
Vespa searched for the Empress’s quarters but was told by her pale-faced maid that the Empress had gone to the observation deck. Vespa made her way down winding steel stairs, bracing herself against the railing as the ship lifted itself into the morning.
She found Olivia peering out through a window, gazing at the burning City below.
Olivia did not look at her as she joined her at the glass. Her knuckles were wh
ite on the brass railing. “All that remains of the heart of my Empire,” she said. She smiled bitterly.
“But your realm isn’t lost,” Vespa said. Her voice sounded tinny and ridiculous to her. “We are traveling to the strongest city in your Empire even now. All will be well.”
She reached for Olivia’s hand, but Olivia withdrew from her.
“Don’t try to comfort me, Vee. I was a fool. We are gazing upon the cost of my tremendous foolishness.”
“Olivia, don’t.”
“How can I not?” Olivia said, resting her forehead against the glass. Tears slid down her pale cheeks and dropped on her fingers like diamonds. “You and Bayne were right.”
“I never—” Vespa began, but Olivia silenced her with a look.
“You didn’t have to. It was clear you thought as he did. You were just too polite to say so.”
Vespa grimaced. Were her thoughts that obvious to everyone?
Olivia tilted her head. “What?”
Vespa waved it away. “Nothing, just . . . Look, the difference here is that I wanted to believe as you did. I wanted peace. I wanted us to build a city of learning and knowledge and art, a place where Elementals and humans could live together in harmony.”
She took Olivia’s hands, and this time the Empress didn’t withdraw. Vespa looked into her eyes, trying to ignore the raw red streaks she could see rising above the bandage on Olivia’s skin. “I still believe in this, Your Majesty. I still believe we can build what we dreamed together. And you must believe it too. It just may be harder than we thought.”
A sad, little smile crossed Olivia’s face as she looked below again. “Much harder now,” she said.
“Just promise you won’t lose hope,” Vespa said. “It’s all we have now. And your people must see that you carry enough hope for all of them.”
“My people . . . ,” Olivia said slowly. “Will they ever trust me again?”
“I don’t know,” Vespa admitted. “There are many angry, confused people in the hold. It may comfort them if you appeared and spoke.”
Olivia nodded. “That is a good thought.” She rested her head against Vespa’s shoulder. “I am so grateful for you, Vee. I think so often of that night when I saw you across the ballroom in the Tower. I knew in that moment you were the only person in the world who could save me. The only person who would bother.”
“Really? How did you know that?”
“Your courage shines like a light, dear one. And we are all drawn to it like moths, even the most reluctant.”
Vespa snorted. Before she could stop herself, she said, “I can think of one who is the most reluctant of all.”
“Still no change, then?” On occasion the two of them talked of the Matter of the Reluctant Pedant, as Olivia sometimes alluded to it. For herself, Olivia was circumspect about her own romantic life, having sworn that she would not marry until her City had been restored to a workable semblance of its former glory. Her parallels to the Great Elizabeth of Old London rose in Vespa’s mind. She had just recently been reading about Elizabeth and how she had foresworn marriage the better to rule her country.
Vespa shook her head. “Before we went into the old City, I asked again if there could be anything between us. He said there could not. That we must remain business associates only.”
“But that is preposterous!” Olivia said. “After all this time, surely he’s not still holding that charm against you?”
“I’m afraid so,” Vespa said. “I can think of no other reason, though he claims that is not it.”
“Well, I suppose there will be many more eligible bachelors in Scientia than there were in New London.”
Vespa shook her head, half-amused and half-horrified they were talking of such things at a time like this. But they were both exhausted, terrified, and deeply saddened. Vespa supposed she preferred this sort of false banter to thinking about whether or not the xiren had more weapons she didn’t know about.
“For your sake, Olivia, I hope so.”
Olivia was about to answer when they both saw two familiar images in the glass.
“Speaking of reluctant moths . . . ,” Olivia whispered.
They turned. Bayne and Syrus came up to them. Piskel peeked out of Syrus’s wild hair, then blushed when he saw Olivia and dove back behind the Artificer’s ear.
“Majesty,” Bayne said, bowing. He tried to wipe his hands along his coat and came away with soot.
Vespa tried to keep her expression neutral, though it was hard to hide her relief.
“Pedant,” Olivia said. “Or shall I call you Knight?”
Bayne had the grace to blush. “Majesty, really there is no need . . . ,” he began.
Olivia smiled. “I fear that it would have to wait anyway, since there is not much to a title without land. And all the land around our City seems to be occupied now.” She frowned and looked again out the window.
They were just over the edge of the Euclidean Plain now and could only see the tinges of smoke disappearing behind them. Vespa clutched the rail, trying to promise herself again that this was real, that the ship would not dissolve beneath them.
“Don’t trouble yourself over it now, Majesty,” Bayne said. “Let us hope that we can regroup in Scientia and think of happier things then.”
Olivia nodded.
“I just pray the xiren don’t have airships or cannons,” Vespa said. “They don’t, do they?”
“Even if they did, we are in luck,” Bayne said. He gestured off to starboard, and Vespa’s eyes widened in wonder.
By their side was a phalanx of flying Elementals—young Dragons, Griffins, a Harpy—and at the head of their formation flew the Phoenix.
“They arrived at the last minute and helped get us aloft safely. They will escort us to Scientia and shield us from anything harmful.”
For the first time since Olivia had entered their townhouse door the other night, Vespa saw the hope she’d been seeking cross the young Empress’s face.
Olivia watched the Phoenix for long moments before she said, “I will go speak to the people now.”
“Very wise, Your Majesty,” Bayne said. “Shall we escort you down?”
Vespa found herself wanting to stay on deck, to watch the colors of the Phoenix shift with the oncoming night. But she knew she’d probably better go along and see if Olivia could turn the tide of resentment that was sure to be building in the ship’s hold.
The Captain came to address them as they crossed to the door. Vespa watched him as she had watched the arrogant envoy during his introduction, trying to deduce any anti-Imperial sentiment. But the Captain was respectful, bowing with his hat in his hand.
“Majesty,” he said. “It is our very great pleasure to have you aboard. We expect to land in Scientia with good weather and with the services of our escorts five days hence.”
“Thank you, Captain. We appreciate your aid during this journey.”
“Ma’am.” He bowed smartly again and returned to the control room. He barely spared Bayne a glance, but Bayne had a strange look on his face.
“What?” Vespa asked as they fell into line behind Olivia. “Did you know him?”
“He was once Captain of my parents’ ship, the Gay Cockatrice. He didn’t even seem to recognize me.”
“I suspect you’re going to get a lot of that where we’re going, unfortunately,” Vespa said.
“I’m most certain you’re right,” he said.
CHAPTER 15
I follow them all back down to the hold, lost in my own thoughts, suddenly exhausted. I wonder how Olivia will accomplish this; she still seems frail to me. For all that, I’m not really feeling well, either.
I grip the railing as the ship seems to lurch away beneath me. I have the sinking feeling that the ship will plunge out of the sky. Not now, perhaps not even days from now, but at some point the Sullen Harpy will fall like a great burning star.
I want to return to the observation deck. I want to see the Phoenix flying again in the
twilight and believe that all will be well.
Vespa looks at me. “Syrus?”
I hold the railing with both hands. I can’t seem to stop shaking all of a sudden.
Piskel is buzzing around me like a bee. “Stop it,” I say through gritted teeth.
Vespa’s hand is on my arm, then on my forehead.
“Is something wrong?” Olivia’s voice pours over me like water.
“He’s burning up,” Vespa says. “He was bitten more severely than you, Majesty. Perhaps I should get him to his room, if you can excuse him.”
“Of course,” she says. That voice, so cool, so soft. I wish she was taking me instead. I manage to bite back the words I want to say. Everything is blurring, all the edges running together. Even thoughts.
“Yes,” I hear myself saying.
Then Vespa’s arm slides under my shoulder, and I feel her holding me up. Piskel is twittering in my ear. Some nonsense about not giving in, about how some special flower high up in the mountains beyond his home could fight the poison. No idea what he’s going on about, except that I just really want to sleep.
I think about how nice it would be if I could sleep in Olivia’s arms, and I feel a warm drowsiness rushing over me.
Vespa pinches me on the arm. “Not yet, young man,” she says. “We’ve at least got to make it to your bunk before you drift off.”
I blink away every strange vision and dream just so I can get myself down the hall.
“Are those everlanterns?” I hear myself ask.
Piskel stares at his reflection in the glass, stretching his mouth wide and making ugly faces.
“Yes,” Vespa says. “And hush. We’ll figure all that out later.”
Then we’re in the room. There’s a giant mound of blankets on the floor, and I nearly sink into them, confused but grateful.
“No, no, that’s Truffler. Over here,” Vespa says. She helps me get into an iron bunk. She gets the satchel off me.
“I’m not fooling with your clothes right now,” I hear her say somewhere far above me. “Just rest. We’re all safe. I’ll bring you food when you wake.”
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