Mirror Gate

by Jeff Wheeler

  “I’m going, Mr. Russell,” she said with blistering rage. “Letters or no.”

  She strode to the door and knocked on it firmly. No one answered. There still wasn’t any sound on the other side. Had Hugilde betrayed her too? The thought sickened her.

  Will put his hand on her shoulder. “They’re not coming,” he said coaxingly. “We are truly alone in an abandoned house. You need to be here just long enough for suspicions to firm. For your reputation to be irrevocably damaged.”

  “How could you do such a thing?” Sera said, whirling around and hitting his chest with her fists. The thought of being caught alone in a home with him . . . well, there was no doubt what the privy council would think. This would disqualify her from becoming empress, certainly. Wasn’t that the point? Vast sums were betting on the outcome. Yet, like everything else, the speculation had been rigged by one more of the players. And she had unwittingly become an accessory to her own downfall.

  “I am being well rewarded for spending this time with you,” he answered, jerking back when she tried to hit him again.

  She turned and yanked on the door handles, but they were locked and wouldn’t budge.

  “Please, Sera. You’re not going to break down that door. I doubt even I could.”

  “You are a scoundrel and a rake,” she said, turning on him venomously.

  “And you are the daughter of a selfish puppet,” he shot back. “One who punishes those who do not deserve it. A hypocrite and a fool.”

  “I thought better of you, Will Russell. I was wrong.”

  “You’re wrong about a lot of things,” he said. “And even if you got out those doors, where would you go? The zephyr isn’t waiting for you. And you have no idea how the world down here works. We’re both of us caught in a cage.” He shrugged. “We wait now for the jailor to arrive.” He began to unbutton his coat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It needs to look convincing, Sera. Maybe a few loose buttons on your gown?”

  A blinding white heat seared her mind. “If you touch me again, I swear I’ll—”

  He chuckled, raising his eyebrows. “You think a threat will work in such a moment as this? I’m a dragoon, Sera.” He finished unbuttoning his jacket and then tossed it on the floor where it lay in a heap.

  Sera turned around and pounded on the door again. “Hugilde! Hugilde!” she shouted.

  Will came up behind her and, seizing her around her waist, pulled her from the door. “I’m not going to hurt you, lass. But I won’t have you causing a racket.”

  “Let go of me! Let go!” Sera struggled against him, and he released her, sending her away from the door. She rubbed her arms, trembling all over. She wanted to scream at him. To rage against the injustice he’d visited upon her.

  He leaned back against the door, arms folded, eyeing her. She backed away from him toward the curtains, feeling sick to her stomach. Why had she even left Muirwood to begin with? The Aldermaston had admonished her to stay. Why hadn’t she listened to his wisdom?

  Will tugged loose the collar knot of his shirt and flung it onto the floor. “Come, Sera. No matter what you do, you’ll be blamed for an indiscretion. The least you can do is earn it.”

  “Is that supposed to convince me to go along with this?” Sera asked furiously. “How do you know you’ll be paid for this, Mr. Russell? The same people betraying me will turn on you. You know too much. If you can be bought once, you can be sold twice. Don’t you understand? Do you even know who is behind this?”

  “Do I care?” he shot back, growing flushed with anger. “My father was left penniless because of people like you. He was robbed. Just as you are being robbed. It was your fault that you dragged me into that accursed maze. Well, at least it will benefit me now.”

  “You’re deceiving yourself,” she said, backing farther away. She felt the fabric of the curtains brush against her back. “This won’t end well for either of us.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly dashed my hopes thus far,” he countered. “I thought you’d be more . . . willing to indulge.”

  Her mind was working furiously. The curtains led to windows and to a street. This wasn’t the Fells. It was a respectable neighborhood, or at least she hoped so.

  “How soon before they come for us?” she asked.

  “Soon enough, darling,” he answered spitefully.

  Sera closed her eyes. Drawing on her fragile will, she summoned the Leering’s light, needing it to help her see the window and its latch. It wouldn’t respond to her at all this time, and her failure struck her as hard as a physical blow. But still she wouldn’t quit. Turning, she shoved the curtain aside and tried to find the latch in the dark.

  “What are you doing?”

  She found it and torqued it open. The window was heavy, but it pushed outward.

  “No!” Will shouted, starting to run across the room.

  Sera got her foot on the sill, grabbed the frame with both hands, and pulled herself up. If she allowed him the opportunity, he would grab her again, pull her back into the room. He’d pin her on the floor if he had to. And so she jumped from the window without a second’s hesitation. The cold, misty air rushed against her face until she struck the hard cobblestones with bone-jarring force. Landing on her forearms and knees, she got to her feet and started running down the alley. She didn’t look back.

  But she did remember, at the last moment, that her hat and veil had been left behind in the dark room.

  CETTIE

  The Test has evolved over the centuries because the conditions on this world have changed. Exposure to other worlds similar to our own has broadened our knowledge. Intelligent people can observe the same facts but disagree as to the interpretation of them. Such is the case with neighboring worlds. Such is the case among our own people. Each student at the abbey comes to learn the general principles behind the Mysteries, the power of thought and its alchemic effects. They learn that if they control their thinking, they may commune with the Knowing and harness knowledge capable of benefiting the various worlds. Then each student chooses a discipline and is taught the gifts that have already been bestowed therein—the varieties of musical instruments, the wonder that a brush dipped in paint can bestow, the laws of momentum and matter, the intricacies of deeds, and the stratagems of war and power.

  All of these things are taught during their years of study here. But there are vital truths held back until the Test. Truths that must be experienced firsthand. For some students, these truths are terrifying. They go against their wishes, perhaps even their personal beliefs. But it is our duty and calling, as ministers of the Mysteries, to gather in every item of truth and reject every error. We must be willing to receive the truth, let it come from whom it may. Truth embraces all morality, all virtue, all light, all intelligence, all greatness, and all goodness. It introduces a system of laws; it circumscribes the theories of the day. If we understood, for example, the process of creation, there would be no mystery about it. It would be all reasonable and plain, for there is no mystery except to the ignorant.

  —Thomas Abraham, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey

  CHAPTER TWENTY−EIGHT

  THE TEST

  The day for Cettie’s Test had finally come, and she waited nervously in the Aldermaston’s manor. The sitting room was full of people she knew and cared about, for she and Phinia and Adam had been allowed to wait together with their visiting family, as was customary. Lady Maren had come earlier to help Anna recuperate from her harrowing experience, escorted by Stephen in the family tempest, and all three of them were present. He was currently teasing Phinia about taking the Test, telling her she wasn’t prepared for it and would likely fail. His smirk revealed he didn’t believe it, but it bothered Cettie that he would choose such a time to tease his sister.

  If only Sera were there with her, they’d exchange a look, and both would know what the other was thinking. Why hadn’t Sera returned from Lockhaven yet? The last letter she’d gotten from her friend was
about her visit to Pavenham Sky. Surely it was a good sign that the Mysteries had whispered to her and allowed her to recognize the prince. Cettie had written back asking when Sera would be coming back for the Test and sent her a sprig of lavender. She’d gotten nothing in return. She was worried about her. Perhaps, as a Fitzempress, she could take the Test at her own convenience, but even so . . .

  Adam stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out at the bright sunlight. His posture put her in mind of Fitzroy, a thought that helped calm her uneasy mind. She looked away from him when Lady Maren rose from the couch she shared with Anna and came over to sit by her. Putting her arm around Cettie’s back and hugging her, she asked, “Are you nervous?”

  “Of course she is. What student isn’t?” Stephen quipped. “I’m grateful the Test is over. For me anyway.”

  “You are so rude, Stephen,” Phinia complained.

  “I don’t know why they even bother with it,” he said flippantly. “While I worry about Phinia passing, I have no doubt that Cettie will. I’ve heard good things about her progress. She’s quite envied.” Praise from him was rare, and Cettie felt her cheeks flush.

  Lady Maren rubbed her back. “There will be much to think about. I didn’t understand it very well at the time I took it. But I do agree with Stephen. You will do well. The vigil will help heighten your senses. It will make the experience more meaningful.”

  “And then we can all have a nap this afternoon,” Stephen drawled with an exaggerated yawn. He had been less than pleased to sacrifice his sleep with them, as was customary.

  Phinia swatted his arm. “And what about you, Doctor Creigh? Are you nervous?”

  Adam looked away from the window. “Not in the least. I’m intrigued by it.”

  “Spoken with all the dispassion of a physician,” Stephen said. His target’s expression changed not at all. “I’m jesting, man. I have no doubt you’ll pass.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and when it opened, Aunt Juliana entered with Caulton Forshee.

  “Aunt Juliana!” Phinia exclaimed, rushing forward to hug her.

  Lady Maren rose from the couch and embraced her sister next. “I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”

  “I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see them before the Test,” Juliana said, smiling brightly. “It wasn’t easy leaving Lockhaven.”

  “Who is this?” Maren asked.

  “Caulton Forshee, at your service,” he said, bowing to her. “I begged a ride from Captain Juliana.”

  Cettie noticed he was standing rather close to her.

  “I’m grateful you returned,” Maren said to him. “I wanted to thank you in person for saving my daughter.”

  “Your husband was gracious enough to already thank me back at Lockhaven, ma’am,” he said with a reserved tone. “And truly, it was the Mysteries’ will, not mine. The villain who attacked us has left these shores. It seems likely he returned to Kingfountain. I think that threat has ended.”

  “While another has begun,” Juliana said. She frowned. “This incident won’t end here at Muirwood. The council suspects Kingfountain is after a war, and the prime minister has ordered Lord Welles to put the military on high alert. All available young men are being conscripted.” Her gaze flashed to Adam standing by the window.

  Cettie saw a look of growing dread on his face.

  “Truly?” he asked in a half whisper.

  Juliana nodded. “All the graduates from this year have been given their commissions, but the Ministry of War is conscripting doctors to serve in the fleet. I’m sorry, Adam, but I’ve no doubt you’ll be one of them.”

  His mouth turned to a frown as the disappointment came crashing down on him. His whole face twitched with emotion. Cettie’s heart panged to see his hopes dashed so thoroughly—and right before the Test. She could only imagine how he felt.

  “But the cholera morbus,” he said with forced control. “We haven’t learned the source or even the cure. If all the doctors are taken, many will die needlessly.”

  “The ministry is calling for strict quarantines,” Juliana said. “The sickness comes and goes. No one knows why.”

  “I know,” Adam said angrily. He clenched his jaw and started to pace. “Such are the vagaries of life. I’ve never had a desire to serve in the Ministry of War. None at all.”

  Lady Maren spoke what they were all wondering. “What about my husband?”

  Juliana frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t get anyone to tell me anything about it. He has served in the Ministry of War before. Maybe they’ll ask him to relinquish his position and take a command.”

  It felt as though a cloud had blotted out the sun. War was truly coming. The cycle was repeating itself once again. Inexorable. Like time itself.

  “Might I have a word with Cettie and Anna?” Caulton said in the somber moment following Juliana’s pronouncement.

  “Of course,” Lady Maren answered, her face suddenly ashen. Her husband was being ripped away from her. Even Phinia looked shocked by the news, and Stephen had lost color—no doubt he was pondering his own fate.

  Anna rose from her couch and then hurried over to sit beside Cettie. The two girls gripped each other’s hands.

  Caulton approached them there, and he squatted in front of them. “You look better than you did the other night,” he told Anna. “But still shaken, I see. Still haunted.”

  “I am,” Anna confessed. “It was a living nightmare. It felt like I was trapped in my own mind.”

  Caulton nodded. “I’m sure it did. I took the liberty of talking to your father. He said that you used to have night terrors in your childhood?”

  Anna squirmed. “Yes.”

  Cettie remembered them well. Mrs. Pullman had had cruel ways of controlling everyone in the household who didn’t meet her personal standards. Her thoughts turned dark.

  “You still have two more years at school before you will take the Test. When you do, you will have a better understanding of what happened to you that night. What you need to know now is that it was not your fault. Not one bit. If I may, I would recommend that you consider the Mysteries of Thought as you continue your studies. The knowledge imparted in those classes may help you. I hope it does, and I truly hope you can leave what happened behind you. You were abducted. That would terrify anyone. But it doesn’t have to rule you.” He patted Anna on her knee and then turned to Cettie. “All I wanted to say to you, Miss Cettie, is that even though you’ve studied the Mysteries of Wind, you clearly have a talent for the Mysteries of Thought as well. That you could use the Cruciger orb at all is quite remarkable. I teach at Billerbeck Abbey. I should like you to visit me someday so we can talk further about your experiences in the Fells. There is much I would learn from you.”

  Cettie was taken aback by his praise and interest. She’d never imagined it was possible to do what he had done in the woods beyond the abbey. She would like to learn from him—and was honored that he thought he could learn from her too.

  The door opened again.

  The time had come.

  All the students who had finished their fourth year were gathered into two groups, male and female. They’d all spent the night with their families in various sitting rooms at the manor. The teachers whom they had studied under then helped them into robes that fit over their regular clothes. The robes were light gray cassocks that extended down to their ankles, with hooded shawls that draped across their shoulders and could be lifted to cover their heads and faces. They were instructed not to look at the other students as they entered the abbey, which they would do from the outer doors. Mrs. Romrell helped Cettie into her robes and smiled encouragingly at her all the while. Before they were separated, Cettie gave Phinia’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She looked very nervous—no doubt the product of her brother’s teasing.

  They were then escorted from the Aldermaston’s manor single file and led down a small footpath to one of the abbey’s arched doorways. Cettie looked up
at the spire. The midmorning breeze caressed her face, carrying all the gentle fragrances from the grounds. For four years she had passed by this structure, feeling the strength of its protective Leerings. The music they made together seemed to thrum against her skin, giving her a feeling of awe. This structure had been built hundreds of years ago. The stone was flecked with lichen, but it had endured storms and ice for generations. It had endured wars too. There was comfort in that. She was not the first to take the Test. Nor would she be the last. This moment linked her to so many other moments that would come before and after.

  As they neared the arched doorway, which was held open by two of the teachers, Cettie felt the Leering set in the keystone glare down at them. It exuded a powerful feeling of fear and dread. Cettie saw one of the girls ahead of her trembling with agitation, but she dared not comfort her. They’d been instructed not to speak to one another.

  As they neared the threshold, the girl halted, quailing in fear. She stepped away from the line and started back toward the manor, tears streaming from her eyes. Cettie bit her lip, sorry for the girl who hadn’t been able to tame the Leering. It was strange, but while she, too, could feel the warning and foreboding emanating from the Leering, it was more like the drone of a bumblebee collecting pollen than the warning of an angry wasp threatening to sting.

  Cettie followed the other girls into the abbey. The walls shone with Leering light, and a feeling of intense peace surrounded her. Just past the doorway, two female teachers were helping the students remove their shoes. The girls continued in just their stockings.

  The walls were intricately designed, she noticed. The trim was inlaid with gold leaf, and the polished stone tiles fit together at angles to form interlocking geometric shapes. It was like staring at an equation from one of her mathematics classes, and she was so distracted by the sight she nearly collided into the girl in front of her who had paused. The line led to a door, which in turn led to a stairway leading to a level below the abbey. They were surrounded by the deepest quiet, but Leerings were carved into the walls at regular intervals, and there were bouquets of flowers in huge stone urns. To Cettie, it felt as if she had come home.