The Canticle of Whispers

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The Canticle of Whispers Page 35

by David Whitley


  What they hadn’t been expecting was utter stillness.

  Mark stared around, puzzled. The early evening sunlight outlined the faded buildings around them, a welcome return to normality after the last couple of days. Most of the houses were still shuttered and barred, but here and there a door had been thrown open, and left creaking in the breeze. At this time of day, even in the quietest parts of the city, there would normally be a steady stream of people making their way home. This emptiness was eerie.

  They began to walk down the cobbled streets. Lily half expected to run into a receiver patrol, lying in wait. But the only noise was a far-off rumble, like the sea crashing against the cliffs by the Cathedral of the Lost.

  She stopped.

  “Mark,” she whispered, “do you hear that? What is it?”

  Mark cocked his head to one side.

  “I think…” he said, “isn’t that … shouting?”

  Lily dropped her head. She couldn’t cope with another mob. They were probably coming for them already, tearing through once-proud Agora—the final result of her attempt to make the city a better place.

  “No…” Mark continued, cautiously. “It’s … cheering…” a smile began to grow on his face. “I think it’s coming from the Central Plaza! Come on!”

  And despite their aches and bruises, the two of them ran through the streets of Agora.

  The closer they came to the Central Plaza, the louder the noise became. Now it was easier to pick out individual voices from the wash of sound—yelling slogans, calling to friends, even singing. Lily was sure that she recognized the Sozinhos, singing that same song of Glory that she had heard three years before—on the day of the Grand Festival, the day she and Mark had truly begun the paths that had led them here.

  Three years exactly. Today was Agora Day too—her day of birth. The thought stopped her in her tracks. Mark skidded to a halt in front of her.

  “What are you waiting for?” he asked, exasperated. “Don’t you want to know what’s happening?”

  Lily paused.

  “Do you think there’s any way we could find out without going there? This might be a celebration of the Directory crushing the rebels, you know.”

  Mark’s face lost a little color. He clearly hadn’t thought of that. And then, just as suddenly, he smiled.

  “Well, there might just be one place where we could get a better look…”

  * * *

  It was an extraordinary sight. The plaza was filled to bursting. The crowds spilled out onto the bridges, through the archways, and into the streets beyond. The remains of the barricades floated in the river, or had been trampled underfoot. Lily had never seen so many people gathered together. Even here, in the Observatory at the top of the Astrologer’s Tower, she could still hear them singing.

  The Astrologer’s Tower was deserted; they were sure of that. No one had been living there for weeks. Mark had thought that would be the case—if Snutworth had left Lady Astrea in charge, she would have had to move into the Directory, away from the front lines. Behind Lily, Mark adjusted the great brass telescope that had once belonged to Count Stelli, angling it down to focus on the plaza itself, and get a closer look. But Lily was enjoying just staring through the windows, gazing down on the rooftops of Agora as they turned red and purple in the sunset.

  “Lily!” Mark called, pulling his head back from the eyepiece of the telescope. “Come and look at this!”

  Lily tore herself away from the vista and put her eye to the telescope. For a few seconds, the image was blurred, as Mark adjusted a few dials, and then …

  “By all the stars!” Lily exclaimed in delight. “Is that Theo?”

  But she didn’t have to ask. Now she could make out their friend clearly. He was standing on the remains of the barricade, making some kind of speech. She didn’t even need to hear it—she knew what it would be. It was written all over the faces of the crowd, and reflected in the cautious smiles of Laud, Ben, and Cherubina, standing beside him on his improvised podium. He would be reassuring the people gathered below, telling them that the worst was over, that there was hope. Mark shifted the telescope, and Lily saw others in the crowd nearby. She saw Inspector Greaves, solemn, but glad. She saw Pete, with tears of relief in his eyes. She saw Elespeth, looking wary, and Owain, cheering louder than any other. She saw Lady Astrea—her head bowed, but her carriage erect. And she saw receivers mixing with civilians, elite next to debtors, all cheering together at Theo’s words. Tomorrow, Lily was sure that most of them would be back to normal, ready to drive their fellow revelers into the dirt to get the best deal. But for today, the revolution was over; peace was restored. And that sounded like a victory to her.

  “Do you see that, Count Stelli?” Mark said, softly, into the air. “Look at Theo now—making predictions about the future in the Central Plaza, on Agora Day.” He dropped his eyes. “He’s your grandson after all.”

  Lily pulled away from the telescope, exhilarated by what she had seen. She wanted to laugh, to dance, but there would be time for all of that, and more, when they reached the plaza.

  “All right,” she said, “we’ve been cautious enough. Time for some fun!”

  She was halfway through the trapdoor out of the Observatory when she realized that Mark wasn’t following her.

  “I don’t think we should go,” he said.

  Slowly, Lily came back up the iron stairs. She didn’t even bother to hide her disbelief.

  “We just escaped from Naru,” she said, incredulously. “We just stopped Agora and Giseth from falling under Snutworth’s control. And as far as our friends know, we could be dead. Don’t you think they’d want to see us?”

  Lily trailed off. Mark was shaking his head. Lily realized that he didn’t look particularly sad, or nervous. More than anything, he looked thoughtful.

  “Would they? Right now?” he said, quietly. “Just … just look through that telescope.”

  Puzzled, Lily walked back over to the vast brass machine and put her eye to it. Everything was the same as before. Theo had clearly come to a particularly rousing part of his speech, because all those around him were cheering. She saw Laud, applauding vigorously, and her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to get to him—to fling her arms around him, and show him that she was back, and she wasn’t leaving again.

  And then she noticed Cherubina. She was smiling, of course. But still, she looked around, nervously, as though expecting something to go wrong at any moment.

  “Look at them,” Mark said, coming close to Lily. “Look at our friends. They’ve done it—they’ve led the revolution to victory. But if we appear now, while the crowd is still looking for leaders, they’ll make us take over.” Mark stared out of the windows. “We’re the big symbols of this revolution, remember? Without your almshouse, none of this would ever have happened.”

  Lily smiled, beginning to understand.

  “Without your speech at the prison, the revolution would have become a massacre,” she replied. Mark nodded.

  “Exactly. The Librans wanted us to run the show, and I don’t know how it happened, but we did. We set it going. But … I don’t want to rule.” Mark stuffed his hands into the pockets of his threadbare jacket. “I don’t think we’d do that good a job.”

  Lily met his gaze. He was right, of course. They knew how to cause trouble, how to topple power and discover new ideas. They knew how to spread chaos. But Agora had been through their fire. It needed something else now.

  Lily walked over to the glass walls of the Observatory, and let her gaze trace a path through the streets, past the wreckage and crumbling buildings, marked with violence and struggles, until she reached the Central Plaza.

  “You know, Agora is almost broken,” Lily mused, looking straight at Theo, his tall, awkward frame just visible from this distance in the midst of the crowds. “I think what it really needs the most is a healer.”

  Mark smiled.

  “So … what do you think?” he
asked. “How do we get back to the temple without them spotting us?”

  To her amazement, Lily felt herself grinning.

  “We’ll take the upriver route. There are more bridges over the Ora that way, and I don’t imagine there will be too many receivers wandering around.”

  “That’s a long way,” Mark said as he began to clatter down the iron stairs to the antechamber, Lily following close behind.

  “True,” she said, as they walked through the bronze door, and out onto the stone spiral staircase where, four years ago, they had first met. “But I don’t fancy a trip through the slums. Getting stabbed in a back alley by the one desperate debtor who didn’t hear the good news is not my idea of a perfect end to the day.”

  Mark laughed, sauntering down the steps.

  “Fine, but it’ll be longer before we can sleep. You realize that this is probably the only time that the temple is going to be empty for a long while? You remember what peace and quiet were like, right?”

  Lily passed an open door. She stopped. There was something familiar about the room beyond, its furniture swathed in white dustsheets. Beneath her, farther down the steps, Mark stopped. He turned back, looking up at her from the gloom, his face suddenly serious.

  “Lily … are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand,” Lily said, still distracted by this little room that niggled at her memory. “They’ll be back at the temple soon…”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Mark said, scratching the back of his head. “Can we just walk away? I mean—over a hundred years of planning, the Librans founding three civilizations, all leading up to us, the Protagonist and Antagonist, the fabled Judges … and we’re just walking away? Shouldn’t we have fulfilled our role? Chosen a leader? Shouldn’t we have made some kind of judgment?”

  Lily looked into the old room. For a second, the sun shone through the slit window, and illuminated her face. And she remembered. She remembered the day she had met Mark, the moment their lives had become intertwined, and all Agora had begun to change. For a second, as she stared through the window, all of the city was laid out before her, in all its crooked splendor. So similar to how she had first seen it, but thanks to her, and Mark, and all their friends, so completely different. It looked brand new, as though she were seeing it for the first time.

  She smiled, looking down at Mark, and heard another far off cheer as Theo finished his speech.

  “I think we did,” she said.

  And she closed the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Beginning

  MARK FOUND LILY on the edge of the cliff, staring out to sea.

  “I’d have thought you’d be helping to pack the ship,” Mark said, coming to stand beside her. She flashed him a smile.

  “No chance,” she said. “Laud and Honorius are still arguing about how the last few provisions should be stowed. We were supposed to leave at dawn, but I don’t think that’s going to happen now. I could wait onboard, but I think I’ll just leave them to it. It might be a long trip, better that they sort out their differences now.”

  Mark nodded, understanding. They had reached the Cathedral only a week ago, and there had been so much to prepare for the voyage. None of them really knew how much time it would take to cross the sea. Honorius had taught himself navigation from the notes of the long-dead captain, but it was still a risky venture. Mark suspected, for Lily, that was half the appeal.

  As for the other half, Mark could just hear the sound of him shouting at their captain, over at the dock behind the Cathedral.

  “So, I can understand why you’d want to go on a sea voyage with Laud…” Mark said, slyly. “But really … taking Ben along as well? Isn’t that going to make things awkward?”

  Lily swatted at him, playfully.

  “We’d be in more trouble if we tried to go without her. It’s not as if there aren’t a lot of other Agoran diplomats going with us—and I’d say Ben is one of the best. Anyway,” she added, growing a little embarrassed, “I think she knew about Laud and me before we did.”

  Mark nodded. He’d seen less of Laud and Lily over the past months than he would have liked, but it took only a couple of minutes in their company to feel it. It wasn’t an obvious passion; they didn’t spend all their time holding hands, or giving each other long, lingering looks. But whenever they were together, they looked relaxed in a way that Mark had never seen before. As though for the first time in their lives, the world around them, with all its faults, didn’t really matter.

  “Besides,” Lily continued, hastily changing the subject. “She gets on well with Honorius, and we need to keep him happy. It was hard enough getting him to agree to leave his patients, even though it’ll only be for a few months. I told him that Owain and Freya would look after them well, but…” Lily’s lightheartedness faded a little. “Honorius saw his patients as his children.”

  Mark knew better than to say anything else about family. Lily’s father was now buried beneath the Cathedral. Verity was not going on the voyage—although she and Lily had talked about it, she had decided to stay behind. She was the new Director’s secretary, and Mark suspected that she might be something more, soon. And as for Lily’s mother …

  On the Conductor’s last diplomatic visit to Agora, he had brought the former Oracle. Lily had tried to talk to her, but her mind seemed to have shut down completely. Elespeth had suggested that living for a while in the care of the Brethren of the Shadows might help her reconnect to her damaged emotions. They could only hope.

  Mark put a hand on Lily’s shoulder, and she reached up to touch it. For a while, neither spoke, watching the waves ripple in the pre-dawn light. They were both well wrapped-up in thick, Gisethi jackets, but they didn’t really need them. The spring morning was still and mild. In fact, this winter had been so gentle that it was hard to believe that six months had passed since the Day of Judgment.

  Lily broke out of her thoughts first.

  “Anyway,” she said, briskly, “enough about that. Did you bring it?”

  “Cherubina found it for me, in the vaults of the Directory,” Mark said, swinging the worn leather bag off his back. “I still don’t know how I’m going to explain this to Lady Astrea when we get back to Agora,” he said, as he pulled a thick roll of paper from its depths. “I know that there’s a copy in the new Libran Museum in the Astrologer’s Tower, but this is the last original version they had. It’s a priceless antique.”

  Lily laughed.

  “Lady Astrea has to remember that she’s not the Director. Anyway, she was a Libran, wasn’t she? I thought they appreciate symbolism.”

  Mark grinned.

  “I think that’s the problem. She doesn’t like what this symbolizes, not one bit. And she particularly doesn’t like it coming from me—she still won’t call me by my title, you know.”

  Lily raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, ‘Official Adviser to the Director of Receipts’ is a bit of a mouthful. If Theo ever gets his election ideas working, you’ve got to work out something snappier.”

  Mark laughed.

  “I’d just be happy if Astrea didn’t call me ‘the boy’ when she thinks I can’t hear.”

  Lily sighed, taking the roll of paper from Mark and beginning to unwrap it.

  “You keep an eye on Astrea,” she said. “I know that Theo needed advice from someone with experience of government, but give her a chance and I think she’d try to take over the city again.”

  Mark shrugged.

  “Chief Inspector Greaves is looking after her while we’re out of the city, and the receivers are loyal to him. Even Poleyn is coming around now that she’s out of prison. Besides, Astrea knows that Theo could have her husband locked up again, and she won’t risk his safety. We’ll be fine.”

  The last of the paper fell away, abandoned on the ground. Mark couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little nervous as he looked at the contents. It really was beautiful, a roll of creamy parchme
nt, with hand-painted illuminations. One of a kind.

  But they had agreed to do this together.

  Mark took one end of the heavy scroll. Lily took the other. They walked to the edge of the cliff.

  And then, with one throw, they flung the last original copy of the Midnight Charter over the edge. For a moment, it turned, gracefully, end on end. And then it fell, and disappeared beneath the waves.

  Lily breathed a sigh of relief.

  “No more prophecies,” she said. “No more experiments, no grand plans.”

  “We’re free,” Mark said.

  They stood in silence, for a moment. Mark felt as though they were standing up straight for the first time ever.

  Lily looked over to the dock. In the distance, under the lightening sky, Mark could make out a redhaired figure, waving. Lily smiled.

  “Looks like we’re all set,” she said, softly. “There’ll be a lot of goodbyes to say.”

  Mark stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  “No need to make them too long,” he said, tightly. “I mean, you won’t be gone forever. This ship isn’t huge, so it can’t be so very far to the old lands.”

  “You know,” Lily said, her voice full of sincerity, “there’s plenty of room onboard the ship. If you wanted to come, I’m sure we could wait…”

  Mark smiled. He’d considered it—he really had. The chance to discover why the old world had abandoned them, to really know what had happened out there. A voyage to discover all of their history, their real history, before the Librans came in with their blanket of secrets. It sounded like quite an adventure.

  But he’d had enough adventure for a while. And there was so much to do back in Agora. The city was still being rebuilt. There was a new, open government to set up, and new, fairer laws to pass. Diplomatic envoys had to be met from Giseth and Naru, which was tricky when most Agorans were still not used to the idea that there were other lands out there at all. And there were always those days when the Director just needed someone to talk to. And with Lily, Laud, and Ben leaving, even if it was only temporary, Mark was going to be the one the Director turned to more and more over the coming months.

 

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