Amid Wind and Stone

by Nicole Luiken

  Qeturah touched her empty sockets once more, and a wounded cry spilled from her lips. She began to pace and rage again. “Primitive barbarians. To have come so close to triumph, only to fail because of Councillor Ellona’s useless son’s shadow. I hate her.” She bared her teeth. “I hate them all—smug, hidebound aristocrats.”

  Qeturah went on in that vein for a while, then seemed to calm. She hung on the cell bars, almost crooning. “But that’s all right. Malachi will do for the Councillor. I was only part of his plan. He’ll shatter all the other Mirror Worlds, and the True World will attain its rightful ascendance, with magic enough for all. He’ll rip away the First Families’ control, and a new order will arise, one in which affinity for magic outranks birth.” Her words were fanatical.

  Leah couldn’t stand to hear anymore. “You’re insane,” she told her. “Do you think you’ll be the True World’s new ruler?” she asked hoarsely. “Do you think Malachi will want you by his side as you are—blinded? Crippled? Unable to perform the smallest magic?”

  “That’s not true. I may not be able to use mirror magic to create illusions or travel between worlds anymore, but I still have a small measure of water magic—a silver tongue. Besides, Malachi and I share a deep bond. I am—I am his best student, his most fervent disciple, his right hand.”

  “Don’t you mean that you were?” Leah asked cruelly.

  Qeturah keened in the back of her throat.

  Leah felt so weary. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do share a bond. Maybe Malachi will stick by you. But you won’t be his equal anymore, or his helper. You’ll be his downfall,” she predicted. “You’ll be powerless, useless, entirely dependent on the kindness of others.” She knew Qeturah, knew how that would grate on the woman’s sense of superiority.

  “No, no, no, no,” Qeturah moaned, clutching her skull.

  Leah fell silent, cradling her own head against another burst of dissonance.

  Qeturah stopped rocking herself and produced a knife from deep in her bodice. The lieutenant must have missed it during his search.

  Leah watched dully, too weak to wrest it from Qeturah, even though the woman was blind.

  “I will not endanger the cause, and I refuse to be powerless,” Qeturah said. She slashed her own throat.

  Blood fountained out. It was all over long before Leah could rally herself into action.

  Leah crawled over to Qeturah’s crumpled body and rolled her over. She listened for a heartbeat. Nothing. Qeturah was dead. The woman responsible for Gideon’s death was dead.

  Leah sat beside her for a moment, too sick and stunned to take it in.

  Qeturah. Dead.

  Had Leah won, then?

  Except she was going to die soon herself. The dissonance was killing her.

  A gleam of light fell on the puddle of blood. A shadowy reflection moved in it. A mirror, but the wrong kind. She needed obsidian to Call Fire—or did she? Perhaps the type of mirror didn’t matter because there was no otherself on Fire World for Leah to initiate a Call with. Fire was her home.

  Leah thought of Qeturah’s Tower, holding its image in her mind, and Called. The blood became the red sky of her home world.

  Jail cells couldn’t hold her either.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Reunion

  Air World

  Two days passed before Audrey saw The Phantom again. Zephyr brought her a message while she and her mother were returning from their hospital volunteer work. “The Phantom asks you to meet him at midnight on your balcony.”

  Her mother had stopped hovering by then, and her father was, of course, working late in the War Office, so sneaking out of bed presented no challenge. She tightened the sash on the lacy robe she wore over her equally beribboned nightgown as she stepped out into the cool night air. “Piers?” she said.

  “Here,” he whispered, alighting beside her.

  She reached out and gripped his forearms, stopping just shy of an embrace. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, her throat aching.

  “Ditto. How are you doing?”

  Remembering that his last sight of her was of her collapsing, her cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Fine. It was just the dissonance that made me faint.” She hurried to change the subject. “What have you been up to? Father won’t tell me anything.”

  He smiled. “Happy to oblige. First off, the war is pretty much over. The captured Siparese, whose ranks include no less than two dukes, have formally surrendered. They’ll be held prisoner until their emperor makes reparations. They’re so terrified of Donlon’s ‘control’ of the Grand Current, they’re practically puking themselves.” He smirked.

  “Control?” Audrey asked.

  Piers shrugged. “I know and you know that isn’t quite accurate, but they don’t know. And since your father is currently an Admiral without a Fleet, he made me a generous offer: my arse out of jail in return for sweet-talking the Grand Current into protecting Donlon. I made him a counteroffer: my loyalty to the Crown in exchange for making Piers Tennyson real, only this time around, he’ll have a title. I wanted earl, but the Admiral says that’ll be up to the queen and depend on my performance and will probably be a lot more minor. But it’s going to happen.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll be able to court you.”

  Her heart thumped. It sounded almost too good to be true. “I’d like that. But what about Jack? Are you sure being Piers Tennyson is what you want?” Gentlemen didn’t have the same freedom a thief did, and she worried that the excitement of stealing things might be a hard habit to kick.

  “I expect Jack won’t totally vanish. He has what the Admiral calls ‘contacts’ in the underworld. But he won’t be doing any more thieving, or at least any more than it calls for to keep his cover, and in time, he’ll vanish, and I’ll become Piers. If that’s all right with you?”

  Tears rose in her eyes. “That’s wonderful,” she said.

  Outside on the street, they heard a pedal car pull up and the faint sounds of the butler greeting Admiral Harding.

  Piers gave her a swift kiss on the forehead. “I gotta go. Can’t let the Admiral catch me.”

  A kiss on the forehead? She grabbed his collar and gave him a real kiss. He responded enthusiastically and kissed her breathless. Only the sound of her father’s study window opening pulled them apart. The smell of a cheroot drifted out.

  Piers gave her a little bow, then, grinning cheekily, resumed his phantom form and vanished into the night.

  Audrey lingered on the balcony until her father finished his cheroot and closed the window again. “Piers?” she called softly.

  No answer.

  “Zephyr, heed my voice,” she Called whimsically. A breeze pushed back a lock of her hair. “What is the name of my one true love?”

  And the wind whispered back, “The Phantom.”

  …

  Stone World

  Dorotea pulled Marta through the mirror and into a fierce hug. “I’m so glad to see you!”

  “My dear girls!” Her mother wrapped her arms around them both.

  Her mother and Martin, along with all the other refugees who’d fled to Air, hadn’t stayed on the Mirror World for long—Leah had said something about dissonance—but Marta had taken a week to become well enough to return to Stone World. Dorotea was so relieved to see Marta alive and pink-cheeked that she didn’t even mind when Martin horned in on the hug.

  Marta giggled and tried to break free. “I have to show you my present!”

  Reluctantly, Dorotea let go. She studied Marta’s prize with interest: colored, sharp-tipped sticks and a square pad composed of numerous thin blank sheets. “What is it?”

  “Pencils and paper. You can draw with them, like charcoal, only better. Belinda let me pick whatever I wanted, and she says when I run out, I can get you to ask her for more. Shhh, that part’s a secret,” she added.

  “Belinda?” her mother asked.

  “Dorotea’s otherself. She’s really nice. Do you have an otherself? I don’t
.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I met my Air self. Her name is Lady Bethany.”

  Dorotea listened to them chatter with tears in her eyes. It was so good to have her family back amidst all the other upheaval and changes.

  The Goddess had been appeased by the reanimation of her sons, the Cave Lords, and, thanks to Jasper, had grudgingly permitted her human squatters to return after many promises were made.

  The gargoyles were present everywhere, ensuring that those promises were kept—much to the resentment of the humans. Two thirds of the Elect had perished, though Jasper had rescued the healer and some wounded men from the armory, which had survived the Goddess’s wrath. With gold mining outlawed, those Stone Hearts not involved in coal mining had been conscripted into the Unskilled labor pool—which was causing more unrest. The Stone Hearts refused to be tattooed, and so the Unskilled refused to have their children tattooed.

  Thankfully, both the mill and the treadle and treadmill in Artisan Cavern that generated power hadn’t contained gold and still worked. But everyone was scrambling to fill the jobs that used to be done by the Elect’s sophisticated machines. Her mother, for instance, no longer crafted jewelry but was learning to weave cloth.

  Dorotea was helping her, but she and Jasper were often called upon to liaise between humans and gargoyles.

  She’d asked him to come with her today and to wear his human form. With practice, he’d become able to change forms at will, but it took concentration to hold his human form Below, so he didn’t do it often. His body naturally reverted to gargoyle form under the earth.

  “Marta, I’d like you to meet Jasper. He helped me save your life.”

  He shook his head modestly. “I just sent Obsidian.”

  Dorotea rolled her eyes. “Because you were busy being a hero and saving the world. Anyhow, I could never have carried her to Elect Cavern by myself. Marta, say thank you.”

  “Thank you!” Marta beamed at him.

  Jasper smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

  Dorotea took a deep breath. Her stomach fluttered—this might go very badly, but she didn’t want to keep secrets. “Marta, did you see any magic while you were on the True World?”

  Her little sister nodded.

  “Well, Jasper has magic, too. He can change shapes.” She nudged him. “Show her.”

  Jasper drew her aside. “What are you doing?” he whispered. “I thought you didn’t want to scare her.”

  “That’s why I want you to show her, so she won’t be scared.” Dorotea softened her voice. “Your other form isn’t ugly. It’s beautiful. Trust me.”

  Jasper shot her a flat look but crouched down to talk to Marta. “My other shape is made of stone, and I look different, but I’m still the same person. Please don’t scream.”

  “I won’t scream,” Marta said, but she bit her lip and leaned against Dorotea’s leg.

  “Do you know there are different types of stone?” Jasper asked. “Mine’s called red jasper.” He held out his hand for Marta to watch as his flesh hardened.

  Marta’s mouth and eyes rounded, but she kept her promise not to cry out. Probably the gargoyles in Marta’s nightmares had looked nothing like the real thing.

  When he finished transforming, Marta tilted her head back and looked from Jasper to Dorotea. “Are you sure it’s still him?” Marta whispered.

  “Yes,” Dorotea said. “I’ll prove it.” She leaned up and, looking him in the eye, kissed him, right out in front of everyone.

  Jasper went very still. Was he surprised? Angry? Dorotea couldn’t tell. Uncertain, she moved away.

  Marta giggled. “Dorotea has a boyfriend!”

  Hilde took Marta by her hand and led her away. Suddenly, it was just Jasper and Dorotea standing there, alone.

  “Is that really true?” he asked. “Am I your hero?” His golden eyes looked vulnerable, as if her opinion had the power to uplift or injure this strong being of stone.

  “Yes. Look, I’m sorry I—”

  He grabbed her hand. “Stop. You brought me back to life. You woke all the gargoyles. You can’t know what a gift that is. To be able to move again, to see something beyond the same set of walls, to talk to new people instead of having the same conversations over and over…the simple freedom to scratch an itch.” He shook his head.

  She gaped at him. “I collared you. Forced you to obey me.” The memory caused her pain.

  “You were terrified because our peoples were enemies. Our peoples are still enemies. You changed your way of thinking. Do you know how rare that is? So few people are prepared to admit they were wrong. Instead, they cling to hate.”

  “Like Gerhardt and Elect Harmon.”

  “Yes. And some among the gargoyles, too. You changed, and you changed me, too. So no more apologizing.” He gave her a small shake.

  “All right,” she said faintly. Was this really happening?

  He bent his head and kissed her. Like magic, his stone lips softened against hers, turning to warm flesh. His hand tangled in her hair.

  Dorotea kissed him back, knowing he’d given her a gift. He showed everyone else his stone gargoyle face. Only for her did he take the risk of being a boy.

  …

  Fire World

  Qeturah was dead. Gideon’s otherselves were safe.

  Back on Fire World, Leah paced around restlessly.

  She had plenty of food and water—Holly kept her well supplied. What she lacked was a purpose.

  Gideon was dead. Duke Ruben was dead. Her mother and her half sister, Jehannah, were likely dead, too. The castle where Leah had grown up in the shadow of Grumbling Man, the Volcano Lord, had been obliterated.

  Fire World was dead and burning.

  Short of throwing herself into Thunderhead’s caldera, Leah didn’t know what to do with herself. Gideon had been avenged, Qeturah stopped.

  There was still Malachi. The thought of Qeturah’s mentor niggled at her but without any true urgency. Weariness weighed down her limbs and spirit. Maybe she should go back to bed.

  She’d done little but sleep for almost a week now. But what else was there to do?

  She ducked beneath the Four Worlds mirror and climbed the secret stair to the Aerie. The large open balcony—large enough for a dragon to land on—meant the room was both chilly and impossible to keep clean from all the drifting ash.

  Nevertheless, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat on the bed. She felt closer to Gideon here. She leaned against the stone wall of the tower and stared out at the tall cinder cone of Thunderhead, this valley’s Volcano Lord.

  Leah didn’t intend to fall asleep, but she did.

  And dreamed she was a dragon, floating on an orange sea of magma.

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  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to all the members of my writers’ group for commenting on various chapters and drafts of this novel: Aaron Humphrey, Ann Marston, Barbara Galler-Smith, Greg McKittrick, Samir Khalil, and Dave Gross. Special thanks to Jennifer Kennedy and Rachelle Foss for reading the whole manuscript.

  Thanks also to my editor, Tracy Montoya, and her assistant, Kristin Molnar, for their help making this book shine!

  About the Author

  Nicole Luiken wrote her first book at age thirteen and never stopped.

  She is the author of ten published books for young adults, including Violet Eyes and its sequels, Silver Eyes and Angel Eyes, Frost, Unlocking the Doors, The Catalyst, Escape to the Overworld, Dreamfire, Dreamline, and the first Otherselves novel, Through Fire & Sea. She also has an adult thriller, Running on Instinct, under the name N.M. Luiken, and an adult fantasy romance series, Gate to Kandri
th and Soul of Kandrith.

  Nicole lives with her family in Edmonton, AB. It is physically impossible for her to go more than three days in a row without writing. Visit her website at www.nicoleluiken.com or like her Facebook fan page for updates on her novels.

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  There are four mirror worlds: fire, water, air, and stone. And each has a magic of its own. Holly resides in the Water World. When she’s called by Leah, her twin “Otherself” from the Fire World, she nearly drowns. Suddenly the world Holly thought she knew is filled with secrets, magic, and deadly peril. For a malevolent force seeks to destroy the mirror worlds. And the only way for Holly and Leah to save them is to shatter every rule they’ve ever known…

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