by Jeff Wheeler
“Get on with it, then,” said Sera’s father impatiently.
Fitzroy’s eyes narrowed at the show of disrespect. He clasped his hands behind his back and then faced the rest of the council. “As you already know, my youngest daughter was abducted by this kishion last night. She was dragged outside the abbey’s boundaries of protection.”
“How is that possible?” interrupted Lord Welles.
Fitzroy glanced back at Mr. Forshee before returning Lord Welles’s gaze. “The boundaries were tampered with. The kishion is clearly in possession of a kystrel. He bore the marks in his eyes. He caused a rift in the boundary. One that didn’t trigger the Leerings.”
A few muttered gasps filled the air. Sera had no idea what a kystrel was, other than a breed of falcon she’d heard about in her studies. But their reaction to the word and its dangers was pronounced.
“They were escorted by several armed scouts and followed their quarry into the woods. They found my daughter, but she was possessed. You could almost say she was infected by multiple entities of great power. In the commotion, several of the scouts were killed, the captain of the company was injured severely, and my daughter nearly died. If it were not for Mr. Forshee’s gifts with the Mysteries of Thought, they might all have died last night.”
“One correction, Lord Fitzroy,” said Mr. Forshee. “Without your ward’s help, it could have ended in even more deaths. She’s exceptionally gifted.”
Sera felt a rush of pride in Cettie and smiled.
“Noted,” said Fitzroy. “Thank you. After they confronted the kishion and tried to restrain him, he escaped again into the woods. Juliana pursued him.”
“That wasn’t very wise,” said one of the councilwomen, and a few others murmured similar comments.
Juliana smirked but said nothing. She didn’t look the least bit chagrined. Sera had heard multiple stories about Cettie’s aunt Juliana who piloted a tempest and worked in the trade routes. The woman certainly met her expectations.
“If I may continue?” Fitzroy said, clearing his throat. The room quieted again. “Thank you. Several zephyrs had been summoned by the captain on duty and were converging on the scene from above. Plenty of men to apprehend such a dangerous individual. He led Juliana on a chase through the murk before reaching the water’s edge. As you know, the abbey is surrounded by water. They expected to find a zephyr hidden in the woods. They were prepared to intercept it. What she found is the reason this privy council was summoned. Sister?”
The quiet in the chamber became even more pronounced. It was then that Sera noticed the bruise on the woman’s cheek and mud stains on her knee-high boots. She and Mr. Forshee stood near each other, both weary and unkempt. They must have flown to Lockhaven straightaway.
“I caught up with the kishion twice,” Juliana said in a firm, steady voice. “We fought each time that I did, and he got the better of me both times. But I continued to pursue him out of vengeance for what he had done to my niece. The zephyrs had encircled us by then, and they all shone light down on the area. Some of the dragoons took shots at him, but he was fast, never standing still for very long, and he used the trees as cover. He reached the water’s edge, and the water parted for him. Like he repelled the water in a way I don’t understand. And he didn’t slog through mud, as you’d expect on a lakeshore. He marched right down into the waters on dry ground. There was a ship waiting for him that had been submerged. He opened the cockpit. I only had a quick glimpse, but the hull was made of stone or some sort of marbled metal. After he entered the ship, the waters flooded back, and I could only watch the ripples as it moved away. It was completely underwater. I’ve never seen a zephyr do that before. Our ships are designed to float and ride out a storm, not travel underwater. What little I saw of its shape was completely foreign to me. Caulton arrived shortly thereafter, having used the orb to track me down. He didn’t see it. Only I did.”
“Thank you, Juliana,” said Fitzroy. “I’m grateful you’re safe.”
“As am I,” replied Juliana with a laugh, earning a spattering of chuckles from those assembled. “I’ve never seen a ship like that. And I’ve spent my life traveling.”
“What does this mean?” the prince regent asked. “Lord Welles, what does it mean?”
Lord Welles rose from his seat and put his knuckles on the table. “I spoke to the prime minister before this meeting. I had already heard the report, and I’d like to add that the zephyr crews near the scene also saw something glowing beneath the waters. The craft sank lower and lower before it disappeared. I think this craft, this ‘sea zephyr’ if you will, is not from this world. As we all know, the world of Kingfountain uses a water-based form of magic. Though it has the same source as our own, they have rituals and customs that are very different than ours. Our superiority in the air is unmatched, but we know from our network of spies that their fleet of water-bound ships is vast and powerful. Their navy is unmatched. As we’ve learned from fighting them in the past, they can strike our ships in the air just as we can strike theirs at sea. We have been in balance. But this . . . this development is alarming. If they have invented ships that can travel beneath the waves undetected, then we will have no warning if they should decide to attack us. Hence the secrecy of this meeting.
“This overture of marriage may be nothing more than a pretext for another invasion. This offer to trade sciences may be only a distraction. Why buy what they can take? We already know many of their people consider our use of the Mysteries an affront. Heresy even. They have tried, over the centuries, to convert us to their ways with logic and pleading. More often with force. Some of our citizens have deliberately abandoned the empire to join in their ways. Some have returned disillusioned. Some were not permitted to return at all. Perhaps they have invented new weapons they wish to keep secret?”
He sighed and looked sternly at those gathered. “Ladies and gentlemen, we may be on the eve of war.”
Lord Fitzroy shook his head. “Why would they send their prince to us to negotiate the marriage proposal himself?”
Sera had been wondering the same. “Maybe we should ask him?” she suggested.
The prime minister turned to her. “Miss Fitzempress, he is not at Lockhaven presently. He is staying with one of our illustrious families and learning more about our customs.”
“He was at Pavenham Sky last night,” Sera answered, ignoring the surprised looks on their faces. “But I tell you, I just saw him outside those doors dressed as one of Lord Welles’s soldiers. Bring him in here. Let’s ask him directly.”
She could tell by the startled looks on their faces that they hadn’t known he’d returned. Or how.
CHAPTER TWENTY−SIX
LOCKED DOOR
Lord Welles stood abruptly, his face twitching with anger. Several of the council members had turned to give him distrusting looks.
“That is a bold accusation, young lady,” he said. “I would have been told if he were en route back to Lockhaven. Perhaps you are mistaken.”
“There is one way to find out,” Sera answered. “Open the doors.”
“Welles, how could she know this?” her father demanded suspiciously.
“I don’t know, Prince Regent,” he said through gritted teeth. “But as she said, there is one way to find out.” As he pushed away from the table, Sera rose from her chair and followed him. Lord Fitzroy’s eyes had narrowed as well, and he cast a warning look her way. The council members began to chitter among themselves in disbelief.
She ignored them all and continued to make her way to the doors. Lord Welles reached them at the same time, his displeasure evident in his scowling mouth. His eyes stared into hers for a moment, almost accusatorily, before he pulled the door open.
The cadre of guards was still in place, including the young man she had met the night before. She saw that Welles recognized him instantly.
“Would you join us, please?” he asked, his tone rigid.
The prince touched his chest in surprise, and Well
es nodded firmly. The young man’s demeanor immediately turned defensive. He noticed Sera standing at Welles’s elbow and shot her a look of confusion, but he did not hesitate. He nodded and then warily approached the council room door.
There was a collective gasp of surprise when the prince entered the room. The young man looked chagrined at the reception, but he strode in purposefully, one hand clasped to his wrist behind his back. His bearing and demeanor took on a more regal attitude, even though he was dressed as a soldier.
Sera’s father had come to his feet and was trembling with rage. “Back so soon, Your Highness?”
The prince gave the prince regent a cool, studied look and then shifted his gaze for a moment to Sera. “I was made aware at Pavenham Sky that there had been some trouble. I thought it expedient to return quickly.”
“How?” asked Lord Welles flatly, arms folded.
The prince swallowed but maintained his composure. “I elect not to answer that question.”
“You are here as an invited guest,” said Sera’s father. “We have kept all of the terms of the negotiations thus far, and you have been granted unfettered access to our realm. The hostages were exchanged in good faith. But your welcome is not without its limits. You have violated our trust.”
“How so, sir?” the prince countered.
“If I may, Prince Regent—” Fitzroy interjected.
“No, you may not,” interrupted the prime minister. He, too, had risen. “Is it true, Your Majesty, that your nation has access to ships that sail underwater? That can be completely submerged without sinking? Be wary how you answer us, young lord. No falsehoods may be uttered in these chambers.”
“Is this a trial?” the prince replied, still patient, though clearly ill at ease. “Am I not entitled to counsel from an advocate before answering?”
“Is your arrival here but a pretext for war?” the prime minister nearly shouted at him.
The feeling of animosity and anger in the room was powerful, and it made Sera cold and fearful. This animosity must not go unchecked.
The prince’s lips were a firm line of disapproval. He was offended. He was vulnerable. “Do you think my father would have sent me here if he were planning duplicity?” he finally asked in a cold, measured tone. “Do you think him capable of such a breach of integrity?”
Sera’s father’s look was full of withering contempt. “You did not answer the question. A question put to you directly.”
The prince glanced from face to face. “That you asked it at all says much. I don’t know what game you are playing, Prince Regent—”
“Game?” her father snarled.
“Please,” Sera said, finding her voice at last. She stepped forward. “Can we not all be civil? These accusations do nothing but churn the waters, making it difficult to see.”
The prince looked at her. She couldn’t understand what his look meant, but he finally said, “An apt metaphor, Miss Fitzempress.” She realized he was probably referring to his belief in the Fountain. That had not been her intent.
“We are not the ones playing games, Prince Trevon,” her father said angrily. “One of our Thought leaders was shot by an assassin. The kishion order was wiped out in our realm centuries ago, yet your world is renowned for its poisoner school. He uses obscure and improper magic to control water, and he then escaped in a ship that went underwater. Should not these facts cast doubt on your intentions? Was your arrival to woo one of our daughters merely a pretext? Or maybe you will say the Fountain commanded it. As if that absolves you from using your free will.”
Prince Trevon’s face grew pale with rage. Sera saw his hands clench into fists behind his back. Father had mocked his religion and his people. Deliberately.
“I think it is past time that I returned to my world,” he said evenly.
“Not until you have answered some of our questions,” Lord Welles replied in a dangerous tone.
The prince turned and looked at him with contempt. “I begin to see your end game, Lord Welles. A bold move.”
“Surely,” Sera said, coming closer to the prince, “we can resolve this peaceably. If you would but explain yourself, defend yourself.”
The prince shook his head, and she fell silent. “I had hoped to make a peace between our peoples. To end this cycle of war. But this machine your ancestors invented—this business of despair you call your government—knows no other way. It corrupts everything it touches. It won’t be stopped. It cannot be stopped unless it is broken. I’m sorry. I should like to have known you better.”
“It’s not too late,” Sera implored. To her surprise, she felt a strong connection with him, an understanding of sorts, and he seemed on the verge of an irrevocable decision.
“Sit down, Seraphin,” her father commanded.
Anger flashed through her. “And your hasty words are helping?” she shot back. Then she turned to the prince, extending her open palm. “Please, Your Highness. You have the power to put an end to this. Speak the truth. I will believe you.”
“You do yourself credit,” he answered. But he still looked wary, distrustful. “Yet I see where the true power lies.” He turned and faced Lord Welles. “You forget, Minister, that my people have been playing a game called Wizr for a very long time. These machinations for power are not foreign to us. I see your move, and so I will counter it.”
“I think not,” the prime minister said. “We have you as a hostage to ensure good faith, and you’ve broken it.”
“I think not.” The prince repeated him archly. “Good-bye.”
He jerked his arm away, revealing a flash of gleaming brass in his hand. It was a small device, no larger than a small baton, encrusted with jewels. It had clearly been concealed up his sleeve.
One moment he was standing in front of them; the next he was gone.
Over the course of the following hours, the empire switched to a posture of war. The privy council was angered by the prince’s sudden and inexplicable departure from the center of the council room. Clearly the other kingdom’s magic outstripped their own in some ways. The sky manors had been a protection for centuries against the seabound fleets of Kingfountain. But if the prince could come and go of his own accord, the safety they had enjoyed was now over. Despite Sera’s pleading for a coolheaded response and an examination of the facts, she saw the council’s blood was up. Lord Fitzroy also tried to argue for peace and the further use of diplomacy to resolve the crisis. But logical arguments did little to quell the council’s wounded pride and even less to combat their fear. The empire was vulnerable against a threat that had powers they did not understand.
Lord Welles was given increased authority to prepare the defenses of the empire, especially the cities along the coasts, which were deemed the most vulnerable to a surprise attack. Conscription orders were given to bolster the military—workers would be taken from the factories and pressed into service—and the Ministry of Wind was ordered to screen each new candidate for signs of the cholera morbus. One infected soldier might kill an entire crew. The wheel of commerce would be changed into a wheel of war.
The prince regent’s bellicose words helped inflame the situation. He hungered for the coming conflict. And Sera saw that many on the council looked to him for leadership and strength. Her impassioned words had not won her any support. If anything, they had harmed her position.
She returned to Castlebury, her heart full of anguish at the prospect of the impending conflict. Two days passed, and from her window she could see the hurricanes arriving to defend Lockhaven. No doubt her father was acting as protector of the empire. She chafed at her feelings of helplessness. In her mind, she repeated her encounters with Prince Trevon over and over again. She could not believe that he had deliberately taken part in some ruse to infiltrate the empire, but how could she prove it?
Somehow she had seen through his disguise. Had the Mysteries finally spoken to her? If so, why hadn’t they also told her what to say to sway the council’s decision? She wrestled with her
feelings of helplessness. She knew she needed to take action, but she had no notion of what to do.
It was on the third day that Hugilde came to her with another letter from Will Russell. Preoccupied as she’d been with the war preparations, she’d almost forgotten about missives. As she broke the seal and scanned the letter’s contents, she remembered the letters that Lady Corinne had given her to return to her father. She’d been meaning to talk to Lord Fitzroy about them and ask his opinion, but her ability to focus had been seriously compromised.
Will’s letter was short and to the point. He was in the City down below. He’d been assigned as a dragoon on the hurricane Vigor and would be deployed the next afternoon to the massive ship that would be sent to defend the empire. He asked if she could meet him that evening at Commander Falking’s home in the City. He provided the street name and described the house. He would return the letters to her then.
“What did he say?” Hugilde asked her with a tone of concern.
Sera sighed and read it over a second time. “He’s been assigned to a hurricane. He leaves tomorrow. This is the only night he can meet me.” Sera bit her lip. “Hugilde, it feels as if we are truly going to war. And Will is part of that ministry. He could die. So many men and women will lose their lives because of this conflict. Why can’t I stop it? They want to fight. Do we not have troubles enough without creating more?”
“What do you want to do?” Hugilde asked.
Sera turned the paper over in her hand. She dug her fingernail into the broken wax seal and picked it off. “I would like to go see him, but there is so much commotion everywhere. How would we get to the address he gave us?”
Hugilde shrugged. “That’s a safe neighborhood, Sera. The officers don’t live in the barracks. Any zephyr pilot worth his salt could find it in a trice.”
“But it is in the part of the City that lies beneath us,” Sera said. “Father never once let me go down there. What will Mother say?”