Well, she thought, drawing her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders, maybe she did. Yes, everything she had inspired hadn’t been good. Even if they won this battle, Agora would need years to rebuild itself, and she had been responsible for scars in her homeland that would never heal. But she also remembered the faces of the crowd that had come to greet her today. There had been grown men crying, children laughing, a whole city burning with hope, and faith in the future.
She’d been stupid to expect perfection; she knew that now. That was what the Librans had wanted. But they were bound to the past. They never believed these lands would grow beyond the bounds of their experiment. But the people of Agora had torn themselves free. They had a real chance to make a difference for the better, and whether they succeeded or failed, at least they were making that choice. That was worth any number of dreams.
She leaned her elbows on the parapet, and for the first time in nearly two years, she looked out over Agora. The others had gone to bed hours before, but she hadn’t been able to sleep, and had wandered up to the temple’s roof terrace for some fresh air. It wasn’t a quiet night. Somewhere, around the flickering bonfires that dotted the city, someone was singing a marching hymn, just like the songs the crowd had sung as she returned. If it hadn’t been for Mark and Ben hurrying her away through the back streets, the mob would probably have dragged her to the barricades and made her deliver a speech. Already Lily had reluctantly had to ask a large and intimidating man named Nick to set a few of his people to guard the steamer. Mark was afraid that some of the more desperate revolutionaries would hijack it, and sail it straight into the upriver half of the city.
Perhaps that was a plan to consider, when her mind began to focus again. Even now, at peace, she found the day hard to remember. She had been scared, of course, and worried. But those feelings had been pushed to the back of her mind by her joy at seeing Mark and Ben, and her amazement at Cherubina. And Theo, of course, dear Theo—who looked far more haggard and ill than she remembered, but still found time to welcome her with smiles and tears. She had begged him to get some rest, and after many protestations that he would happily talk all night, that Cherubina and Verity had worked wonders in nursing him back to health, he had left her to snatch a couple of hours of sleep.
And now, at last, she was alone. Now she had time to think, and to wonder what would happen next. Because whatever it was, the people of Agora wouldn’t give her time to rest.
“What do you want me to do?” she whispered to herself.
“Just turn and look at me. That would be nice.”
The voice was soft, barely audible over the noise from the streets. Lily shouldn’t have been able to recognize it. But as she turned, her heart beating faster, she knew who it had to be. Laud had told her that she was living at the temple now.
“Hello, Aunt Verity,” she said.
Verity hadn’t changed at all. The veneer of brusque efficiency was gone, true. But that nervous, confused woman who had first welcomed her to the Directory, the one who had reached out to touch her face for a second or two—that was the woman who stood behind her.
“You don’t need to call me that,” she mumbled, looking down. “After everything I did to you, I don’t deserve to be part of your family.”
Lily thought for a moment. She was trying to feel something—hurt, anger, even forgiveness. But she was too tired, too relieved to be back among friends to have anything left to feel.
“My mother forgot that I ever existed,” Lily said, softly. “My father sent me across the world to keep me away from some kind of ancient conspiracy. I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper family.”
“Really?”
Lily smiled, thinking of Laud, Mark, Ben, and Theo, sleeping downstairs.
“Well, not blood relations, anyway,” she said, thoughtfully. Verity stepped forward.
“I wanted to tell you,” she said, tripping over her words. “I wanted to find you again, after I realized that the orphanages in Agora wouldn’t care for you properly, like a Gisethi village would have. I wanted to raise you as mine, even though I was just a girl myself. The Director wouldn’t let me, but that shouldn’t have stopped me. I…”
“No,” Lily interrupted, reaching out to the older woman. “You couldn’t have done that. The Director wouldn’t have let you. You’d have been thrown in prison, or worse, just to keep the Libran secrets safe, and I’d have had no one on my side in the Director’s office, making sure I was protected.”
Verity looked back at her, her eyes full of hope.
“Then you forgive me?”
Lily frowned.
“I don’t know,” she said. “You still took a baby and left her on a doorstep just because your big brother told you to.”
Verity shrank back. Now she was no longer a woman of thirty summers. She was the frightened girl that Lily had seen in her dreaming vision. The girl who idolized her brother, and thought he could do no wrong. The girl desperate to believe in ideals, because the world was too big and complex for her to ever feel safe.
Lily didn’t want to live in the past anymore.
“Yes,” she said, softly, “I forgive you.”
Lily let Verity rest her head on her shoulder. The older woman didn’t cry, or speak. She didn’t even embrace her, not really. For a second, Lily was almost disappointed, as though there should have been one last huge revelation—some great moment where aunt and niece affirmed that they would be family forever.
Except … her whole life had been like that. That was what the Librans had wanted. That was the part of her that was the Antagonist, whose every word and action changed the world.
But tonight, she was just Lily. Here, with her Aunt Verity, the only person in her family who was not lost to her.
And that had a kind of splendor all of its own.
* * *
Lily awoke to the sound of shouting.
She jumped up. The streets below were a frenzy of running footsteps, but the shouting itself was distant. Peering over the parapet, she could make out a cloud of dust and smoke hovering around the towers of the Gemini District, on the other side of the city. Now and again, she heard a low rumble, like venerable stonework crumbling into the streets.
She pulled her dress on over her nightgown and stumbled down the stairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Below, the temple was almost deserted. Only Mark and Theo remained, poring over a map of Agora they had spread out on the altar.
“What’s happening?” Lily asked, as they looked up. Mark and Theo exchanged worried glances.
“The receivers have broken through the barricades in the Gemini District,” Mark explained, pointing to the map. “We only heard the news about an hour ago. The people are fighting back. They’ve already set more of the buildings on fire—one of the museums went up before dawn.”
Lily’s tiredness evaporated in an instant.
“Are the receivers advancing?” she asked, hurrying over.
“Not yet,” Theo said, worry clear in his voice. “The inhabitants of Gemini are keeping them at bay for now. But they have no leaders, no weapons, and certainly no plan. It could get very much worse.”
“I should go there—see what I can do,” Lily said, pulling on her apron. “You say they need leaders; maybe they’ll listen to me—enough to pull back to somewhere we can defend…”
“No,” Theo interrupted, firmly. “Laud and Ben have just set off to see if they can assess the situation. Cherubina and Verity have gone to find Nick and persuade him to bring reinforcements. The situation is under control.” His face softened, though it couldn’t lose the lines of worry. “At least for the moment. Rest, Lily. I doubt you could step onto the streets right now without causing even more disruption.” Theo turned to Mark. “And that applies to you too, Mark. After your prison speech, you’re almost as famous as her.”
“But we have to do something,” Mark protested. “What if this is the final battle? We can’t let Snutworth win…”
Theo
looked troubled, but attempted a smile.
“I think the receivers will find it hard to take over this half of the city in just a few hours. And besides, you two can sway whole armies—we don’t need to risk you on something that might only be a minor skirmish.” He sighed. “And now, I’d better go and alert our volunteers. I suspect we’ll have to prepare for some more wounds, at the very least…”
Theo hurried out of the door, and Mark turned back to Lily.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You’re looking a bit … surprised.”
Lily nodded, a smile touching her lips.
“So … we don’t have to do anything? Cherubina’s helping the workers; Theo’s taking charge…” she sighed. “This place really has changed.”
Mark nodded. In the distance, they heard a splintering sound, as though another building was crashing down.
“Yes, it has,” Mark replied, uneasily. “We’re so glad to have you back, Lily. It’s still pretty grim out there. Though I think your entrance yesterday made a pretty big impression. Half the city’s still in shock!” He shook his head, marveling. “You know, we should probably sort out some more guards for your boat. I think we’re going to need all of Nick’s men to keep the receivers back…”
“The boat!” Lily gasped, suddenly remembering something. “I can’t believe I forgot … it was just so overwhelming, seeing you all again…”
“What is it?” Mark asked.
“You remember I told you that Owain and Elespeth snuck into the city, to open up the walls?” Lily explained, hastily, grabbing her apron from a hook on the wall.
“I’d hardly forget that—I still can’t believe you trusted Elespeth after she betrayed us…”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Lily interrupted. “Anyway, I suggested a couple of places they could find shelter after I’d arrived. I thought that they’d head here, but I did say that if they couldn’t make it as far as the temple, we could meet at the riverboat this morning.” Lily tied her apron and smoothed it down. “I really should go and see if they’re there. They must be finding Agora pretty confusing, and I doubt Nick’s guards will be friendly…”
“You’re not going alone,” Mark said, firmly.
“I think I can make it to the docks,” Lily replied, lightly. “I doubt they’ve moved since yesterday.”
“Things have been getting pretty desperate around here,” Mark said, seriously, picking up his jacket. “There are some streets you’d better not walk down, fame or no. I’ll guide you. Besides,” he added, with a grin. “I’m not taking my eyes off you this time; you’ve got a nasty habit of vanishing.”
Lily smiled. It was good to be home.
* * *
They ran all the way to the Aquarius docks, occasionally ducking into side alleys to avoid gangs of looters. The mood of jubilation from the day before had rapidly faded, and as the boat came into view, it looked like everyone was too busy with the Gemini skirmish to worry about investigating the steamer, although there were still a few gawkers clustered nearby.
The deck was deserted, but as Lily drew closer, she noticed a scrap of green cloth, tied to the side rail, and redoubled her pace—that was Owain’s sign that he had taken refuge there.
There were a couple of large, surly men on guard, but they waved Lily and Mark onboard without a word. Lily bounded up the gangplank, and opened the door to the hold, while Mark investigated the boiler room.
“Owain? Elespeth?” she called out. Someone moved in the darkness beyond. She recognized the rough Gisethi clothing.
She stepped in a little farther.
“You in here?” she asked.
As her eyes adjusted, she made out a man sitting in the corner of the hold—head down, his knees up to his chin. Something was wrong. She had never seen Owain looking like this, not even when his whole village had tried to kill him. He looked crushed, defeated.
“Owain?” she said, more quietly, her good mood evaporating. “Owain, what is it? What’s wrong?”
He looked up.
He wasn’t Owain. He looked just like him, but his face was different—hollow, vacant. He stared at Lily with no interest at all. Lily took a step back.
“Who are—?”
A woman’s hand clamped over her face and mouth. It was holding a cloth soaked in something that smelled thick and sweet. Her head began to spin
“You, Miss Lilith, have an appointment with the Director,” said a tough female voice, far away.
And she fell into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Appointment
MARK’S FIRST MISTAKE was to open his eyes.
It wasn’t that his eyes still stung from whatever he’d been made to inhale. It wasn’t that the light that shone toward him was uncomfortably bright.
It was that when he opened them, the first thing he saw was the face of Father Wolfram.
He jumped before he could stop himself, and felt leather straps bite into his arms. Wolfram moved the lantern closer. Mark could see nothing but his hard, uncaring face, the lines exaggerated by the harsh light. Mark tried to turn his head away, but something held it in place. His legs were bound too, uncomfortably. He was trapped in a sitting position, head back, vulnerable.
Wolfram shook his head.
“Always struggling against the greater good,” he rumbled, in a tone of disgust. “No matter how many times I try to curb your nature, Mark, you are a twisted sapling, and would have made a crooked tree.”
Mark didn’t like the sound of ‘would have.’ He tried to speak, but his tongue lolled uselessly, and all he could do was groan.
“Do not attempt speech,” Wolfram reproached him. “Not yet. The tincture will clear from your mind, soon. But for now, you must learn the virtue of silence.”
Wolfram withdrew, taking the lantern with him. If Mark could have spoken, he would have remarked that Wolfram’s own vow of silence seemed long dead, but perhaps it was best that he could not. The more he saw of this room, the more his heart sank.
It was not a big room, but the stones in the wall were built to a massive scale, as though this were part of a much larger structure. Without being able to move his head, all he could see was this rough-hewn wall, and to his far left, the edge of some contraption, covered in dials and tubing. It looked strangely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Wolfram walked out of sight behind him, taking the light with him. Mark looked down, still unable to move anything but his eyes. With his head tilted back, he could barely see his arms, but the straps on them felt thick and tight.
There was a soft sound to his right. Mark tensed. Now the light was no longer blinding him, he could see a shape out of the corner of his eye. It looked like another chair, with another bound figure just coming to their senses.
“Wha … whu … what?” The voice came, so familiar. Mark groaned.
“L … Lily?” he asked, forcing his slack tongue to make words.
“Mark! What…”
That was as far as she got, before Wolfram struck her. Mark felt the force of it, even from where he was sitting, a ringing slap across the face. Wolfram stalked back over to Mark, and pushed the lantern so close that Mark felt his eyebrows singe.
“You will not speak,” he growled. “If you do, Lily will receive your punishment. Be glad that I will not strike you. I might damage the apparatus.”
Apparatus? Mark thought. There did seem to be an odd sound in the air, a humming hiss. And he had the sense that something large was hanging over his head.
Behind him, a door opened. Footsteps on the stone floor. And something else—the confident tapping of a cane.
“Well now, Father Wolfram, are the Judges awake?”
Mark knew that voice. Still reasonable, and calm, and deceptive.
Wolfram nodded. There were more footsteps, and the newcomer came into view. He propped his silver-handled cane against the wall, and smiled, warmly.
“Mr. Mark, Miss Lilith, welcome to the Directory,�
� said Snutworth.
What struck Mark most forcefully was how unchanged he was. True, his coat was now trimmed with gold, but it was still the same formal black. He wore the same gloves, the same simple cravat, and the same expression of polite interest. He could have surrounded himself with finery, but he hadn’t. In a way, that was all the more disturbing. This didn’t look like a man who had reached his goal.
“Why have you brought us here?” Mark heard Lily say, her speech returning. “What have you done with Owain?” Wolfram glared at her, but Snutworth—Mark still couldn’t think of him as the Director—raised his hand.
“No, Father Wolfram, I think that the Antagonist is entitled to an answer. Besides,” he added, lightly, “we will scarcely make any progress if our guests remain silent, will we?” Wolfram bowed his head, and withdrew from sight, walking behind them.
“Now, to answer the simpler question first,” Snutworth continued. “Mr. Owain is imprisoned elsewhere in the Directory, along with Sister Elespeth. I cannot pretend that they are particularly comfortable, but they are alive.”
“And who was that, in the boat?” Lily continued. This time, Snutworth’s expression hardened. Just for a second.
“That was Mr. Owain, naturally. I thought that you were famed for the clarity of your perception…”
“That wasn’t Owain,” Lily interrupted fiercely. “He looked like him, but it wasn’t the same man. When he looked at me … it was like he’d never met me before…”
Lily trailed off. Snutworth’s expression was hard to place. Was there a spark of triumph in those sharp green eyes?
“Nevertheless, it was him. Mostly. How else do you imagine Inspector Poleyn would have known where to find you? Really, I do wonder why you thought it would be a good idea to use the tunnels, or why it had not occurred to you that if one person may travel through them to reach the docks, so may a whole platoon of undercover receivers. Barricades are irritating, Miss Lilith, but hardly real barriers.”
The Canticle of Whispers Page 27