As the ceremony concluded, Mori’s mind returned to the message from his predecessor, passing on the real secrets of the Church. He shuddered, realizing he was complicit in a giant lie. Was that the point of all this? To pull him in, to take him past the point of no return?
The screen parted, and Mori turned to face the audience, their new Scribe. Out in that sea of people was Orcades Draig, his burned face standing out from the others. Mori saw him and felt the uncertain tug of fear. Did he know? No, he couldn’t possibly. They had wiped his memories thoroughly. He would have no recollection of his rescue and recuperation at the hands of the Church. Mori had set him free to reunite the House of Draig in the hope of realigning the calculations of the plan. Now, here he was, a monster looking down on him, smiling that sickly smile, like a hunter with his prey in his sights.
A bell tolled, and the assembled crowd stood, clapping out a slow rhythm. As the clapping grew faster, Okuda announced, ‘The Infinite Gods give us their blessings, and recognize Akito Mori as their Scribe.’
The audience responded. ‘Infinite Blessings!’ The clapping grew to a crescendo of rapturous applause.
Finally, as the noise fell away, Mori was handed a ceremonial pad, representing the new testament that he would soon begin to write. He accepted it, knowing that he was trapped forever, then he turned to leave the stage. Behind him, the orchestra and the choir exulted, filling the air with a magnificent noise, and as Mori slipped into the shadows, he felt a strange sense of relief to be out of the gaze of Orcades Draig.
WAITING
Faron Dulac waited in his seat as the choir ended its final opus. About him, the Readers guided delegates to their exits in a carefully controlled maneuver. Each guest would have a brief meeting with the new Scribe, to offer their congratulations and to kiss the hand of the Infinite Gods’ chosen representative. Then the long ceremony would finally be over.
He stretched, awakening his legs, staring at the upper levels behind him.
‘Is that Halstead?’ he asked Sinclair, spotting the prince several levels above them.
Chief Sinclair turned to study the face. ‘Yes, I think so. What’s he doing up there?’
‘He’s with her,’ Lady Addington said angrily, pointing an accusing finger at the woman sat beside Halstead.
‘Is that Valine?’ Faron asked.
‘Yes, it is,’ Sinclair replied.
He was too far away to talk to, and Faron’s com had been confiscated, along with every other piece of technology, long before he arrived in the chamber. All he could do was stare in quiet disbelief at his ally.
Halstead glanced down, catching on Faron’s stare. He appeared flustered, but he couldn’t escape. Valine turned to see what had upset him and smiled at the members of the Harvest Union.
Addington stood, her rage overpowering diplomacy, but the Readers and Inquisitors were soon on hand to placate her.
Sinclair took her arm. ‘Not now,’ he said. ‘Soon. We’ll deal with the House of Draig soon.’
‘What’s he doing there, with her?’ Addington asked, the hurt in her voice obvious.
‘I wish I knew,’ Faron replied.
SANCTUM
The room was lit by cobalt floor lights, catching the curtains that lined the walls, contrasting with the fragile flames of the candles dotted about the space in carefully considered positions. Orcades Draig stepped inside, letting the heavy material drop back into place over the doorway, sealing him in. Beyond the candles was a chair, and in the chair was the Scribe, adorned in his newly acquired finery.
‘Well, here we are,’ Orcades said, his voice gravelly.
The Scribe held out his hand, his face a tense mask.
Orcades stepped closer, ignoring the hand. ‘Do you believe in life after death?’
‘I . . . We have a very tight schedule. You should discuss that with one of my Readers.’ His lip glistened with sweat.
‘I’m proof. I’ve been dead, and here I am,’ Orcades said, his anger growing. ‘Someone brought me back, but they never asked if I wanted to.’ He watched the Scribe, his eyes making tiny nervous movements left and right. Orcades knew the Scribe’s hidden Inquisitors could be upon him in a second, but the temptation to wring the life from the old man’s neck was almost too strong to deny.
‘I don’t know how,’ Orcades continued. ‘I don’t know why, but I remember you, Mori.’
The Scribe tensed, withdrawing his hand as if he’d been bitten.
‘You saved me, didn’t you?’
Mori clenched his jaw, his face an image of terror.
‘You used me.’ Orcades stepped closer. ‘You manipulated me. Why? Do you want to control me?’ He laughed. ‘No one controls me! You should have let me die. But no good deed goes unpunished. I’m here to return the favor.’
Mori glanced to his side, and an Inquisitor appeared in the room.
Orcades ignored him, focusing only on the Scribe. ‘Not today, not here. But soon. I just came to let you know.’
‘Sawil . . .’ the Scribe said. His voice faded away, as if he had regretted speaking.
‘What was that?’ Orcades asked.
The Scribe took a breath, as if he was about to say more, but then he shook his head.
Orcades stared at this feeble old man. There was no power here, just lies and bluster. It disgusted him. He took a step closer, and a second Inquisitor appeared, standing between Orcades and Mori.
‘See you soon,’ Orcades said with a mocking smile. He turned his back on the shaking Scribe, and walked out of the room, satisfied his threat had found its target.
SECOND THOUGHTS
Reader Aditsan stood on the highest level of the chamber, the Scribe’s podium just a distant speck. He waited as the others filed out, thinking about his conversation with Halstead.
He was just a boy, or at least that’s how Aditsan saw him. Impulsive, petulant, immature. He still wasn’t ready to lead his people. Aditsan had tried his best to guide him, but his advice was muddied by his own feelings. He should be detached, he should keep the prince at arm’s length, but Aditsan liked the young fool, and caring for the prince had only made the Reader’s job harder. There was no room for friendship in a Reader’s work, Aditsan knew that, but even after all these years, it was the same flaws that let him down.
He made his way out of the chamber, down through the levels, into the corridors that were only accessible to Readers, and walked the narrow halls until he came to Librarian Okuda’s room. He knew he would be busy, today was a bad day to seek out advice, but Okuda was an old friend and mentor, and Aditsan needed his counsel.
He knocked on the door, waiting until a young face appeared. The woman was dressed in the simple robes of an Aspirant, in training to one day hold the office of Reader.
‘Infinite blessings. Reader Aditsan. I’d like to speak to the Librarian,’ he said, feeling stupid.
The Aspirant looked at him with an air of disdain. ‘The Librarian is far too busy today. You will have to file a request for an appointment.’
‘Just tell him it’s Aditsan.’
The Aspirant frowned, then the door closed. Aditsan could hear the muffled sound of voices, then the door opened again. Librarian Okuda beamed at him, pulling him into the room.
‘Elan Aditsan!’ he exclaimed. ‘My gods! You got fat!’
‘And you have always been ugly,’ Aditsan responded.
The two men embraced, laughing. Okuda gestured towards a sofa, signaling to the Aspirant to bring them drinks.
‘You are expected at the dinner in fifteen minutes,’ the Aspirant said with a hint of irritation.
‘And I will be there,’ Okuda replied. He turned to Aditsan. ‘You saw the ceremony? How did it look?’
‘I fell asleep,’ Aditsan replied, taking the drink offered by the Aspirant.
Okuda dismissed the woman, raising his glass to his friend. ‘How long has it been?’
‘Too long. It’s good to see you,’ Aditsan replied, testing the drink.
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‘You too. You’re here with Prince Halstead?’
Aditsan nodded. ‘That’s what I wanted to speak to you about.’
Librarian Okuda’s smile faded. ‘Why do I get the feeling this is serious?’
‘I’ve resigned my posting with the prince.’
Aditsan tensed, expecting Okuda’s response. Readers didn’t resign from their posts. They would serve until reassignment or death. It was the Church’s decision, not the Reader’s.
‘I know it must have been something serious for you do this,’ Okuda said, his voice quiet.
‘The prince wants to kill Orcades Draig.’
Okuda chuckled, emptying his glass. ‘He’s wanted to kill him for years, and with good reason.’
‘But he wants to act alone. He’s formed an alliance with Valine. They intend to kill Orcades and put Halstead in his place.’
‘As the head of the House of Draig?’ Okuda checked, sounding doubtful.
Aditsan nodded. ‘He’ll end up dead, and where will that leave the House of Kenric? He refused to listen to reason. I’m sorry, but I had to leave.’
‘I understand,’ Okuda replied, his eyes narrowing as he thought. ‘But this is when he needs you the most. His plan has merits. There’s a large contingent of the Draig population that would recognize Halstead’s leadership. He and Orcades share a father, after all.’
‘But Halstead will be dead!’
Okuda smiled patiently. It was an expression Aditsan knew well from his days under the Librarian’s tutelage. ‘Go to him. Support the prince. Try to guide him, if you can. I will speak to the Scribe. There may be ways we can support the prince’s efforts, without the Church getting its hands dirty. Peace is in all of our best interests.’
Reader Aditsan looked down at his glass, feeling the weight on his shoulders pushing him into the soft seat. Okuda was right: the prince was a fool, but he needed Aditsan, especially if he was going to try something as stupid as trusting Valine. He stood, bowing. ‘Very well, if you think it will help.’
‘I’m certain of it.’ Okuda joined him at the door, embracing his old friend once more. ‘Let’s meet again soon, when we have more time.’
‘I’d like that,’ Aditsan said as he turned to leave the chamber and find Halstead.
AN AUDIENCE
Exhaustion clawed at Mori’s eyes, tempting him to close them. It had been a long day already, and it was far from over. The stream of dignitaries seemed without end, each one given just a brief moment to relay their gratitude before then next one entered. Their faces blurred into one, their names forgotten seconds after they left the room, all except Orcades Draig. His menace had made him unforgettable. The image of his face lingered like a ghost.
Mori referred to the pad beside his chair, noting the name of the next person waiting for an audience with him. The curtain opened once more, and a young man with a crop of dark hair entered.
‘Prince Halstead,’ Mori said with a welcoming smile. He was glad that Librarian Okuda had been to update him before the prince’s arrival.
Halstead took his hand and kissed it, bowing as he spoke the expected blessing. He straightened, turning to leave, when Mori raised his hand. ‘Wait, please,’ he said.
Halstead turned back to face his Scribe.
Mori gestured for him to move closer. ‘You are well?’
‘Yes, Scribe.’
He beckoned him again, and the prince obliged, their faces next to each other.
‘You know of Draig’s return?’ Mori whispered.
‘Yes,’ Halstead replied, his quiet voice taking on a sharp edge.
‘He wishes to reform the House of Draig, to put an end to the civil war,’ Mori said, testing the prince. ‘That would be a good thing, yes?’
‘No. Not with him in charge.’
‘Then another, perhaps? Valine cannot hope to unify the factions. She doesn’t have their trust.’ Mori waited, wondering if the prince would confide his plans in him. He still wasn’t sure he believed Librarian Okuda’s assertion that Halstead planned to take control of the House of Draig.
Prince Halstead paused, as if he was uncertain of his response.
‘We are alone here,’ Mori said, ignoring the hidden guards, and the discrete monitors and sensors recording every interaction in case he needed it later. ‘If you cannot speak freely with your Scribe, then when can you?’
The prince nodded, composing himself. ‘I will bring an end to the civil war.’
‘You?’ Mori replied, feigning surprise. ‘You will fight against Orcades?’
‘No. I will kill him and take his place. I will join the House of Draig with the House of Kenric and bring an end to the killing.’
So, Okuda was right. Mori leaned back, considering the ramification of the prince’s idea. Yes, it might just work. ‘The Church agrees. Can it be done without the blood of others being wasted?’
‘I hope so.’
The thought of Orcades’ death pleased him. He would have liked to have done it himself, at their meeting earlier, but it wasn’t the right time. Now, Mori was vulnerable, and Orcades would find a way to get to him, sooner or later.
Something must have gone wrong with the process to adjust Orcades’ memories. Somehow, on some primal level, he knew what Mori had done to him, and he would kill him for it. It was the last Scribe who had rescued him, nurtured him from the brink of death, but it was Mori who had chosen to let Orcades go. It was for the good of the plan, he told himself. Orcades would bring the factions together, that was his hope, but perhaps the prince’s scheme would deliver the same outcome and remove the threat of Orcades at the same time.
‘There are many weapons,’ Mori said, committing himself to his course of action. ‘The sword, the gun, but sometimes the word is mightiest.’
Halstead smiled. ‘Not in this case. Diplomacy won’t work.’
‘You misunderstand me. When the time comes, you can destroy Orcades with a single word, spoken into his ear.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Remember what I say, Halstead. A word is all you will need. Come closer and I will tell it to you.’
NEW SECRETS
‘Isn’t it finished yet?’ Otto moaned, sounding tired.
‘Almost,’ Librarian Gina Horst replied, stroking her son’s hair away from his brow. Adele was already in bed, oblivious to the importance of the ceremony, but she’d allowed Otto to stay up and watch. Gina glanced at the screen and realized she’d stopped watching the broadcast ages ago, distracted by her own thoughts. She’d never missed an official engagement like this before, and it seemed strange to be watching it here in her chamber with Otto, but she couldn’t bring herself to go, not after what had happened. Otto’s problems at school had given her the excuse she needed, and she was glad to have been there for him for once. She tried to convince herself that he was doing fine, that he was coping, but his behavior was suffering. There were too many reminders on Icarus, and she had hoped coming to the Firmament would have been a much-needed distraction, but everyone else had come as well; his friends, his classmates, his teachers. All it took was for one of the other children to tease him, to remind him that his father had taken his own life, and Otto’s rage had been set loose. He wasn’t violent, not normally, he was a kind, gentle boy. But he was so young, and the things in his life were so complicated. That’s why he’d latched onto Gofal, and now he was gone too.
The machine had affected her as well. He was special, and Mori had destroyed him. She couldn’t forgive him for that.
Gina looked down at Otto; his eyes were almost closed. Finally, he was resting. She didn’t want to disturb him, but she’d made up her mind and this wouldn’t wait.
‘Otto?’ she said softly, rousing her son.
‘I’m tired, Mum,’ he replied.
‘Do you want to go on holiday?’
Otto opened his eyes, suddenly alert. ‘A holiday?’
‘Yes. Away from Icarus.’
‘Away?’ He sounded u
ncertain.
‘It’ll be fun. I think you’ll love it.’
Otto began to warm to the idea. ‘Where?’
Gina shrugged. ‘Anywhere. I’ve still got your father’s ship. Where would you like to go?’
‘The Mercury Ring,’ Otto decided. ‘Gofal went there, he said.’
Gina frowned. ‘That’s a long way. How about somewhere closer.’
‘Maxwell Point!’ Otto replied immediately, his face lighting up.
It wasn’t the best place to stay out of sight, but Gina smiled and nodded.
Otto jumped up and hugged his mother, laughing. ‘Just us, and Adele?’ he asked.
Gina smiled, avoiding his question. ‘I’ve got some things I need to do first, but we can leave tonight, okay?’
‘What about school?’
‘I’ll deal with school.’
Otto nodded, satisfied. ‘Can we stay on the surface of Maxwell? Can I see the fields?’
‘Yes, I think we can,’ Gina said laughing at her child’s excitement. ‘But I want this to be our special holiday, just you, me and your sister, so you can’t tell anyone just yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s a secret, and secrets can be fun sometimes. Can we keep it a secret until we leave?’
Otto’s grin returned. ‘Yes.’
‘Shake on it.’ She held out her hand to him.
Otto looked at it. ‘That’s silly.’
‘Shake.’
His hand disappeared in her palm, his little fingers barely gripping. Then they both laughed, hugging again. She hadn’t seen him this happy in a long time.
TRUST
Halstead waited in the broad hallway as the other delegates filed by, trying to avoid catching their attention. He wasn’t in the mood for diplomatic small talk. He glanced up at the ornate stairway that led from the main chamber. It seemed to go on forever in both directions, making him feel insignificant. About him, the guests mingled with Readers, talking and laughing as refreshments were distributed.
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