by Jordan Rivet
“Lords rather than Shields?” Ed said. “Interesting choice, Princess. Shall we?”
Mica looked back at Jessamyn, who was watching them from the shadows of the atrium, Lord Aren and Banner flanking her. Jessamyn’s eyes blazed with resolve above her veil. Mica trusted that she would be ready to retake her crown when the time was right. They had set out from Jewel Harbor with two different missions. Now it was up to Mica to see them both through.
The Fifth Talent cleared his throat. “Birdfell awaits, Your Highness.”
Mica mounted the horse Lord Bont had provided for her and gestured imperiously to the gates. “Lead the way, Ed.”
Deep-purple clouds hung overhead as they rode out of the pristine city and into the mountains. They traveled light, with a few supplies in saddlebags and bedrolls tucked behind them. They all wore cloaks and gloves to protect them from the cold mountain air—and hide their identities if necessary. Mica had a simple silver diadem in her saddlebags in case she needed it later. Lord Bont had lent her the crown, a relic from the days when his own ancestors were queens, because Jessamyn’s jewels had been lost with the Silk Goddess.
The mountain path was misty, making it feel like twilight even though it wasn’t yet noon. It was eerily quiet away from the bustling harbor and the endless rush of the sea. Mica shivered, clutching her cloak a little tighter around her. She wore the embroidered riding clothes Lord Bont had placed in her rooms, which were thick and warm, but her chill had little to do with the weather.
Every once in a while, Ed would turn in his saddle to look at her with those watery eyes. She got the sense that he was surprised she had offered to make this journey herself, and he was trying to figure out if there was a catch.
Fritz rode alongside Ed, asking him anxious questions about the road and whether they might encounter any delays. It would take them two days to travel through the interior of the island to their destination, which already felt too long. The rebels could be creating new Fifth Talents by the hour.
Fritz kept drumming an anxious rhythm on his saddle, and it only added to Mica’s agitation. She hoped bringing him along hadn’t been a mistake. She would much rather have her brother with her than the fretful young lord.
But at least she had Caleb.
He was a stalwart presence at her side as they climbed the rocky path overhung with trees, and he helped to keep her nerves at bay. She couldn’t imagine making this journey without him.
“Can you tell me what happened to you in Birdfell?” she asked him after they crossed the first misty ridge—and she was certain their companions were too far ahead to hear them. “Why were you there in the first place?”
“I visited with my uncle one summer when I was six years old,” Caleb began. “As the youngest son, I was going to be shipped away to live in Jewel Harbor in a few years. My parents wanted me to see more of the outer islands first. Ober is my mother’s brother, as you know, and she especially wanted me to get to know Timbral.” Caleb brushed a gloved hand through his hair, disturbing the droplets of mist that had settled on his head. “I wasn’t there long when Ober and Euphia packed me up and took me traveling. We saw many different places, but I was too young to keep them all straight.”
“But the purpose of the trip was to show you the outer islands?”
“As far as I knew, but I didn’t spend much time thinking about it back then. It was just what we did.”
Mica thought about what she had been doing at six years old, the age when Caleb was traveling the world with his uncle, preparing to become an ambassador for the Pebble Islands. She’d spent most of her time chasing after her brothers and trying to lift heavy objects. She had wanted to be a Muscle like her mother when she was little.
“Haddell the potioner already worked for my uncle then,” Caleb went on. “He kept a workshop in Timbral, but he also came with us on our tour. I wonder now if it was really a research trip for their potions. Haddell and my uncle would spend hours in his cabin, reading and scribbling away in notebooks. Ober was obsessed with something, and it used to annoy Euphia when he stayed behind on the ship to work instead of going sightseeing with us.”
“Was he brewing potions on board?”
“I don’t know. I was too busy eating strange foods and chasing seagulls across the docks of a dozen port cities to care what kind of work he was doing.” Caleb grimaced. “I was having the time of my life.”
Mica touched his arm briefly. She knew Ober’s betrayal still stung, and it must hurt to realize that a joyous childhood trip had been leading up to the ultimate betrayal.
“My aunt and I often explored without him, but when we reached Silverfell, Ober left the ship with us bright and early.”
“In Silverfell City?”
“No, there’s a small harbor closer to Birdfell. It’s the nearest Silverfell port to the Twins.”
“Could that be where the rebels took the Silk Goddess?”
“It’s certainly possible.” Caleb gave her a sympathetic look. Mica still clung to the hope that Emir was merely injured and that if they found the Silk Goddess, they would find him.
“Anyway, we left the port and rode into the mountains to Birdfell Mine. The weather was a lot like this, actually.” Caleb adjusted his cloak, making the mist swirl around him. “We stayed in the tower for a few days, and Uncle Ober seemed to know the place well. He must have gone there often. Lord Bont said it was abandoned, but I believe Ober has been operating in secret there for a long time.”
“And now he’s letting the rebels use it.”
“It seems so.”
Mica glanced up at Ed, Fifth Talent and citizen of the Independent Republic of Dwindlemire. For once, she was happy Jessamyn hadn’t revealed her identity after all. If Ed was leading them into a trap, it would spring on the wrong princess.
She turned back to Caleb. “So what happened with the pond, the cesspit Lord Bont mentioned?”
“Why uncle warned me to stay away from it. It was a murky thing, with red-black water that made it impossible to see the bottom.” He lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. “I wouldn’t have gone near it if my uncle hadn’t told me not to. Pebble Islands children learn to swim almost before they can walk, and my six-year-old pride was offended that he thought I couldn’t.”
“So you jumped right in?”
“It was as if I’d landed in jelly. The water seemed to cling to me, making it impossible to swim out. I flailed around, shouting for help, but no one came.”
Mica could picture it. The little boy with tousled brown hair, leaping confidently into the dark waters. His confidence would turn to fear as he discovered that the murky liquid was not water at all.
“How did you get out?”
“I don’t know.” Caleb frowned, scanning the misty woods around them as if looking for clues that would help him understand the memory. “I slipped beneath the surface, all that murky water clogging my mouth and nose. But just before I passed out, my feet hit the bottom.” His square hands tightened on his reins. “Do you know what I felt there? Stone, not mud. It was a manmade basin, with reeds planted around it to disguise it as a natural pond. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my side next to the pond, alone and covered in black scum, wondering why I wasn’t dead. I cleaned myself up and never told anyone. Maybe Ober himself pulled me out and revived me as soon as I was good and drowned.”
Mica shuddered, not wanting to picture that tousled-haired boy with his lungs clogged with poison.
“Do you think he meant for you to go into the water so he could try his potion on a child?”
“Haddell implied as much. Ober was eager to test his theories. Perhaps he thought his potion already worked and he was doing me a favor.”
Mica felt a familiar rage simmering within her. “Still, to put any child through that, much less his own nephew . . .” She touched the cold hilt of the knife strapped to her leg.
“It was one of the more terrifying experiences of my life, but I confess I didn’t connec
t it to my abilities,” Caleb said. “When Haddell gave us that clue, I concentrated on locations where I have good memories and people I care about. I thought he meant I would least wish Ober to be conducting his experiments in those places.”
“Like the lighthouse in the Pebble Islands?”
“Exactly. My brothers and I used to go there for high days, and it’s easily my favorite place in the empire.” Caleb paused, looking at her with clear, deep-blue eyes. “I’d like to take you there one day.”
Mica blushed, and she was glad their companions were ahead of them.
“I’d love to visit the Pebble Islands,” she said, “when all this is over.”
She wasn’t sure what “all this” meant. Ober’s schemes? The rebellion? The war with Obsidian? None of those things would make Caleb any less a lord.
They came upon a bridge over a deep ravine. The other two had already started across, their hoof beats ringing loud in the silence. As Mica prepared to follow, a flicker of movement on the opposite cliff caught her eye. Scouts, perhaps? They had to assume they were being watched as they traveled farther into the mountains.
Mica eyed the cliff as they crossed the ravine, which was filled with fog so thick it hid the river far below, but she saw no further signs of observers. She kept the cowl of her cloak pulled up just in case. She would announce who she was—or whom she represented—when the time was right.
Ed and Fritz waited for her and Caleb to reach the other side of the bridge before once more taking the lead. Mica wondered how much they could get Ed to tell them about how he had become a Fifth Talent. He certainly seemed to know the route to Birdfell well, even though he was from another island.
“Do you think you have to be drowned in the potion for it to work?” she asked Caleb, still considering his story.
“At the time, maybe,” Caleb said. “But Ober has had well over a decade to improve his method, and we know he hasn’t been idle.”
Mica gritted her teeth, remembering the Talents in the warehouse and how they’d been tortured and sliced up and drained of their blood. She thought of the madman at the anniversary ball, screaming of suffering. How many people had Ober destroyed in order to make Fifth Talents like Ed, in control as well as invincible?
And had Ober used the potion on himself? The thought hadn’t occurred to Mica before now. Would it even be possible to defeat him?
“We should have killed him when we had the chance,” Mica said.
Caleb didn’t respond for a long time. A strong wind blew through the ravine, amplifying the cries of the birds of prey swooping overhead. It had grown even colder as they traveled into the heights. It felt as if they were leaving behind the people they had been in Jewel Harbor, riding toward a new reckoning.
At last, Caleb spoke. “You are right, Mica. He needs to die. I wasn’t ready before, but Ober cannot be allowed to live.” He looked over at her. “And next time, I’ll be wary of whom I trust. The list is pretty much down to you and Jessamyn right now.”
Mica hesitated, thinking of what Jessamyn had said when they were hidden behind the vase in the atrium. She’d ordered her to procure the Fifth Talent formula, the one that had already caused so much suffering. Could Mica trust the princess not to use it?
“I don’t always agree with Jessamyn,” she said slowly, “but I believe she wants to do the right thing.”
“I think so too,” Caleb said. “But as much as she denies it, she’s still human.” He reached out to take Mica’s hand. “If she falls, we need to be there to catch her.”
Mica met his eyes, squeezing his hand tight. “Agreed.”
* * *
They continued deeper into Silverfell, occasionally passing cozy villages and well-designed homes set amongst the trees. Mines were scattered all throughout the mountains, steadily drawing forth the riches of the island. As in Silverfell City, the people had used their wealth to craft large houses out of high-quality materials, even in these remote reaches.
Dwindlemire and Cray didn’t have riches like Silverfell. Their mountains produced less in a year than Silverfell did in a month, which was largely why their interests hadn’t been a priority at the imperial court. Mica had seen for herself how Lorna and the other Silverfell nobles had received more attention than the nobles from the Twins—never mind the commoners. They didn’t get much attention at all, except at Emperor Styl’s occasional public audiences.
I wonder if . . .
Something had occurred to Mica, a possibility that could help explain another piece of the puzzle.
She urged her horse forward to ride beside Ed the Fifth Talent, waving for Fritz to fall back beside Caleb.
“You were a petitioner, weren’t you?”
“I beg your pardon?” Ed looked up, and Mica noticed his watery eyes were green above his blond beard. They’d been brown that morning and blue back in Carrow. He still hadn’t mastered his Mimic ability, even though he seemed to have a knack for it.
“You said we’d met before in Jewel Harbor. Did you come to one of my father’s audiences in the Silver Palace?”
“Very good, Princess. Oh, you were very kind. You smiled and nodded and agreed with your father when he refused to help my family.”
Mica had attended some of Emperor Styl’s audiences for commoners who didn’t have privileged access to the Silver Palace. They were often an exercise in frustration. He couldn’t always help those who came to him with final desperate pleas for help, though she had certainly seen him try.
“What was your request?”
“A potioner for my ailing son,” Ed said. “The emperor offered me coin to buy a health tonic in Potioners Alley, fair enough, but I wanted him to send a few well-trained potioners to the Twins on a more permanent basis.”
“And he refused?”
Ed morphed into the emperor again, making his stony face far uglier than the real Styl, his eyes utterly devoid of compassion.
“I traveled all that way for nothing,” he said bitterly. “There he was, living in the most grotesque luxury I’ve ever seen, his little daughter perched on his knee in a silver crown worth more than my village. He sent me away, and when I got home, my son was dead.”
Mica gasped.
“I knew it was a possibility when I left,” Ed said. “That’s why I wanted to bring a few potioners back with me, so others wouldn’t have to travel all that way and hope their families lasted long enough for it to make a difference.”
This all must have happened long before Mica came to the Silver Palace, but she still felt heartsick for Ed’s child. Why couldn’t the emperor have paid for a few potioners to work out in the Twins? Potions were costly, which was why people like Quinn traveled to Jewel Harbor to ply their trade, but Emperor Styl had more wealth than he could ever use. He should have helped.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Ed bowed his head, allowing his own features to flow into place. When he looked up, his eyes were defiant. “I learned my lesson about how meaningless it is to be an imperial subject. When I got home, I joined up with others who’d already seen the light about the empire.”
“The rebels?”
“The revolutionaries.”
“And then Lord Ober found you and offered you a new kind of potion?”
Ed cocked his head to the side and grinned. “I see you’re not just a pretty face. No, that was years later. We tried to gather support for our cause for years before he ever turned up. It is finally time.”
Mica remembered how Jessamyn and Lady Maren had been surprised that this particular secession effort was so organized, even though there had been other petty uprisings. Something had changed this time around. Lord Ober must be helping the men from the Twins refine their strategy as well as enhance their physical abilities. But she still couldn’t figure out why.
Like Ed, Mica’s friend Danil came from Dwindlemire. He had traveled to the Mimic Academy in Redbridge, hoping to serve the empire in exchange for a better life. And he had received
nothing but pain at the hands of Lord Ober.
Mica felt that familiar rage, simmering away in her belly like a potioner’s cauldron. Ober had corrupted the Talents, the empire’s greatest strength. And for what? So he could give the power to his rebellious neighbors, who had played at uprisings for years, always falling to infighting and disagreements in the end? No, there was more to his scheme still.
Ed had legitimate grievances, and Mica couldn’t defend the emperor’s inaction. But Ober must be using the genuine struggles of his neighbors for his own ends, promising them the world in the form of unbeatable Talents. It was too generous—and far too easy—for him to simply give them his formula without strings. He wanted something from them. Perhaps if Mica could show them that Lord Ober couldn’t be trusted, she would have a chance of swaying them to her cause.
* * *
They spent the night in a grove of trees set well away from the road, where they found a travelers’ campsite with an oft-used fire pit.
“I don’t reckon we should stay in an inn,” Ed said after apologizing for the roughness of the accommodations. “We’d draw too much attention to your ladyship.”
“I am perfectly fine sleeping on the ground,” Mica said. “Someone knows we’re here, though. I have seen people watching us.”
“I saw them too.” Ed gave her an appraising look, perhaps even a little impressed. “Still, we don’t need regular Silverfell folk spotting you in a grimy mountain inn. They might decide we kidnapped you and launch a rescue.”
“A wise decision to keep out of their way, then,” Mica said.
They built a fire as darkness fell over the mountains. After a simple meal of bread and cheese, Fritz rolled into his blankets and fell asleep. Ed went off to scout their surroundings, perhaps looking for evidence of their shadows or to make contact with some of his comrades. Mica wouldn’t be surprised to learn that their unseen escorts were actually his friends.
Mica and Caleb stayed up late, sitting on a bed of pine needles by the campfire and talking quietly. They told each other stories about their families and shared happier childhood memories than Caleb’s last visit to Birdfell. Mica described her adventures with Sapphire and Danil in Redbridge, and he told her about his swordsmanship training with Stievson and his retainers. They had been with him for years, helping him to control the erratic condition his uncle had inflicted upon him.