Lumière (The Illumination Paradox)

by Garlick, Jacqueline E.

  I sit up dizzily. The ground spins like a top. “Where am I, Archie? Am I dead?”

  Archie shakes his head and caws—ridiculously loudly—and I wince from the pain.

  This much I do remember: the sulfurous taste of the wind. The sound of the crashing glass at my back as I fell through the towers. And Limpidious. Yes. I remember seeing Limpidious.

  If that was real?

  “The towers?” I turn to Archie. “Where are the towers?” I look around. “Where did the structure go?” I try again to get up, but the ground refuses to let go of me. Archie hovers close.

  I squint across the clearing in front of me, seeing two giant tears in the earth. A fire smolders in between. “It’s gone, isn’t it? Did it burn? Or has it sunk back down into the Core?”

  Archie squawks, then flaps his wings as if to lift off and leave me. “No, wait! I need to know what’s happened! Where’s Pan? She’ll tell me. Where is she, Archie? Where is Pan?”

  The flock divides, circling, and my heart drops heavy as a stone. The birds double back then part in the center, revealing a single settled bird. She sits atop the newel post of an old, broken-down gate. Her beak glints red through the grey spiraling cloud.

  “Pan!” I breathe. “It’s you!” I leap to my feet, nearly toppling over. The birds rush in, assisting me, steadying my arms with their beaks.

  Regaining my balance, I reach up and find a goose-egg-sized bump on the back of my head—the cause of all my wooziness. I squint, trying to realign my eyes as Pan springs from the gate.

  Her wings spread, she struts toward me through the amber grass, gradually increasing in both size and dimension. With every step her gait widens, grows more innately human.

  I blink wildly. Is my brain playing tricks on me?

  A blast of silver light bursts from her beak. I raise a hand to shield my eyes. It spins, silver streaks whirling through a black dust-deviling cloud. Feathers sprinkle off into the wind. A red steam twists, ribbon-like, through the cloud’s middle.

  I raise my arms to protect my face. “What is this? What’s happening?” I turn to Archie. The forest around us leans to one side. It’s all I can do to keep my footing. Archie and the rest are blown back.

  The wind dies down. Something steps from the madness.

  Not a bird, but a woman.

  She’s dressed in a bluish-black feathered gown. Her lips are painted garnet red. Auburn hair spills about her shoulders. She steps forward, her eyes flecked blue and green, beaming.

  “Mother?” The word falls from my mouth. “It’s not possible,” I breathe.

  I blink at her image, my logical mind working hard to imagine her away.

  “I watched you die. In the square. In Brethren—”

  “I know, my child,” she speaks. Her voice is as steady and soothing as I remember.

  “Is it you? Is it really you?”

  She nods and my breath falls away.

  I don’t move at first, afraid to close the space between us, for fear whatever spell’s been cast will come to a crushing end.

  “It’s all right,” she says, and spreads her arms.

  I rush into them, burying my face in her chest. Tears flood my eyes.

  She wraps her arms tightly around me and kisses the top of my head. I’m overcome by the familiar scent of lavender.

  “How?” I look to her. “How is it possible?”

  “Pan,” she says. Her eyes are wet.

  “Where is Pan?” I pull back. “What’s happened to her?”

  “I am Pan.” She reaches out and strokes my head. “She is I.”

  “What?” I shake my head, confused.

  “Pan gave up her life so that I might go on living. The day you saw me dying in the square. Pan was a Valkyrie,” she explains. “A shape-shifter. Able to transform from human one moment to raven the next. And now she’s passed her powers on to me.”

  I gasp.

  “I’ve always known it, since I was a little child. That’s why I’ve always protected her. It was through those powers she was able to save me.”

  “But how? I don’t understand. I saw you cut and dying.”

  My eyes fall to the scar on her neck.

  “Exactly.” She cups my face in her hands. “You saw me dying. Not dead, my dear. Pan accepted death in my place that day, bearing my punishment at the gallows. She entered my body, and allowed me to inhabit hers, relinquishing all her powers to me. I became Pan, and she became me. That way you would never have to be without a mother. And I would never have to be without my child.”

  “So it was you?” I whisper through tears. “All along. You were with me?”

  “That’s right.” She nods. “Thanks to her.”

  “Oh, Pan…” I fall into Mother’s arms, sobbing. “No wonder you loved her so.”

  “I loved Pan, it’s true, but never as much as I loved you, and your father.” She runs a hand through my hair, pressing her lips to my forehead. “It was because of Pan, your father and I brought you up the way we did— to believe that not everything in the world can be explained away by the theories of science. We knew better, your father and I. I had Pan, and your father had Limpidious. Together we believed in the mysteries of the world. And we wanted the same for you. Life is meaningless without magic in it—”

  “Urlick?” I pull back, remembering. “Where is he? What’s happened to him?” I’m frantic.

  Where are the Turned? Why haven’t they come? Did they—?

  “Shhhhh, my child.” My mother reaches for me. “He’s not with the Turned.” The look on her face sends my heart reeling. It must be something worse.

  “Tell me.” I step back. “What is it? What’s the matter? What’s happened to him? URLICK!” I scream, and run at the ridge.

  “He’s not there,” she hollers. I spin around. “Where is he then?”

  “They took him,” she says quietly.

  “Who?”

  “The Brigsmen.”

  I suck in a serrated breath.

  "I’m sorry, Eyelet. We tried, but we couldn’t stop them. They arrived within moments of the flash. The ravens and I, we were barely able to drag you to safety. When we went back for Urlick, he was gone.”

  “Where is he now? What have they done with him?”

  “None of us are sure. You have to understand, Eyelet, we thought you were dead. There wasn’t time to follow.”

  “I need to go find Urlick. Bertie! Where’s Bertie? Bertie!” I shout at the sky.

  “It’s no use,” Mother whispers, pointing to the pile of smoldering ash at the base of the Core. “He’s gone. He dove beneath you, breaking your fall. He gave up his life for yours.”

  I run to the site and fall to my knees. Bits of charred wings and scorched bone lay among the shattered glass. “Oh, Bertie…” I sob, running my fingers through the ashes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself.” Mother swoops in. “It was not your doing. Not yours to be undone—”

  “Yes it is.” I pull back, tears in my eyes. “It’s all my fault. Bertie. Urlick. Everything.”

  “What are you saying, child?”

  “I lost the necklace, Mother. The one you told me never to lose. It’s in the hands of the worst person possible. I’ve failed you, Mother. And Father, too—”

  “You mustn’t think that way—”

  “But it’s the truth.” I shrug off her affections. “Whatever happens from this day forward, I will have been the cause. I lost the key to my future. To everyone’s future, and I have to get it back.

  I have to change the course of things before everything, absolutely everything’s destroyed.”

  I stand and start away. Mother pulls me back. “This came for you as you lay asleep,” she says, dipping a hand in her pocket.

  A brass Ladybird scuttles across her palm.

  “How long ago did this come?” I say, snatching it from her.

  “A few days back, I’m afraid.”

  I throw open the wings and e
xtract the pin, peeling the slim copper foil from its drum. Carefully, I unroll it and read the message:

  Urlick in trouble. Needs your help. Captured. Jailed in Brethren. Facing trial for the murder of Smrt. Sentenced to death. Come quick. Iris.

  I gasp at the vision that comes to me, Urlick hanging from the gallows next to my mother, the life drained from his eyes. My skin goes cold. My heart staggers.

  “I’ve got to get to him.”

  Fifty five

  Urlick

  The old stone jug smells of urine and festering flesh. It’s enough to make even the strongest stomach dump its contents. Then again, jail isn’t supposed to be a holiday, now is it? Certainly, this one is far from that.

  I flop onto the straw-lined wooden cot that’s to be my bed for a fortnight. I’m to be hanged in the city square on the fifteenth day. Found guilty of the murder of the Academy’s beloved Professor Smrt—without even so much as a trial.

  I let out a breath so big it startles my cellmate. The dragon tattoo on his forearm tenses its jaw. He stares over at me through his one good eye. The other—a nasty scar of pink-knotted flesh, the result of some brutal gouging, I suspect.

  He sits whittling a piece of stone into a weapon. The sneer on his lip warns me to stay clear of his side of the pen, or risk losing an eye of my own.

  No worries, mate, I plan to keep my distance. The smell of him alone could kill me.

  I pull my gaze from him and stare out the window. Iron bars separate us from the rest of the world. Each bar bears the scars of the failed attempts of those who tried to escape before us. A wry grin bubbles on my lips, as I ponder how many of them were forced to spend their final hours with my cellmate. And how many of those were relieved to die.

  He looks up. His good eye stares me down coldly. He grins, showing me his teeth. Two spotty rows of black pointed spears appear where teeth should be. Another good reason to keep my distance.

  This man is just a festival of fears.

  I turn away from him, staring out over Brethren, wondering what’s happened to Eyelet.

  Where she is,

  And if she’s safe,

  Or, did they catch her, too?

  Does she sit, rotting in a cell next to me?

  I resolve myself to believe she got away.

  I wonder, if she did, will she come for me?

  Does she even know I’m alive?

  I close my eyes, draping my arm over top, trying to quiet my brain.

  Something strikes the bars on the window, causing them to ring. My cellmate launches to his feet.

  “You pesky rubbish pig, you!” he shouts, dragging his homemade knife across the bars. “Can’t wait to peck me bones clean of me flesh, can ya? You horrid little Ketch’s Helper!” He stabs through the bars at something black. It squawks and pecks at his hand.

  “Pan?” I jump to my feet, shoving my cellmate aside, knowing I’ll pay for it later. She turns her head, revealing her scarlet red beak. “Pan! It is you!”

  I scale the wall, hanging from the bars. “What is it, girl? What have you got for me?”

  She turns her head. Something glints in her mouth. The Ladybird. My beloved Ladybird.

  I stick out a hand and she drops it in. The brass legs of an Insectatron scuttles across my palm. “Good work, Pan!” I shout, closing my fingers over it just as my cellmate clocks me with a fist, knocking me from the window to the floor.

  Quickly, I extract the Ladybird’s message, seeing the six tiny words punched into its scroll. A smile warms my face as I read, then I duck my head, tuck my chin and prepare to get pummeled, chanting—

  “How much do you trust me?”

  The End

  Dear Reader :

  I can’t thank you enough for selecting Lumière as your most recent read. You have no idea how happy you’ve made me. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, immersing myself daily in the world of the Commonwealth, journeying along with Eyelet and Urlick and the rest of the crew. And I’d be thrilled if you’d included books two and three of The Illumination Paradox series on your “to read” shelves in the future.

  While I’m painstakingly crafting book two, Noir (page ahead to read an excerpt) look for the release of The Epitome of Eyelet, a novella, to help tide you over. It features the incomparable Eyelet as a teen, just prior to the start of this novel, on a mischievous mission to uncover her father’s secrets.

  In the meantime, I invite you to keep up with me at jacquelinegarlick.com, where you can sign up for my newsletter (URL) and be the first to hear about upcoming releases in this series, as well as others, and have the chance to enter exclusive contests, enjoy video blogs, and win bling and other prizes.

  Again, let me thank you for spending a few precious hours in a world of my imagining. Please know that you hold a very special place in my heart.

  Jacqueline…

  Are You Excited To Read On In The Series?

  Enjoy this exclusive excerpt from the exciting continuation of the Illumination Paradox series from Jacqueline E. Garlick.

  NOIR

  “What’s all this?”

  I slip through the door of the Compound and Iris is upon me, arms around my neck, squeezing me as tight as she can. Peeling the gasmask from my face, I pet her head. “My goodness,” I say, as she sobs on my shoulder.

  “She was afraid you was never comin’ back, Mum.” C.L. says. He creeps out of the shadows into the shaky aether light of the hallway.

  I must admit, I wasn’t sure myself. It was a wicked journey through the Vapour-laced woods all alone. If it hadn’t been for Pan, I’d never have found the way. The ascent up the side of the escarpment at the edge of Embers was the biggest test. I’m just thankful I didn’t run into more Turned.

  “At any rate, you’re ’ere, now.” C.L. flashes me a toothless grin. A merry sight, I must say. Reaching up with a toe he guides a tear from his cheek, and a soggy lump forms in my throat. How little I’ve known of these people, and yet how much they’ve given me of their hearts.

  “Yes, I am and don’t you worry.” I turn to Iris, cupping her cheeks. “Urlick will be back soon, too.”

  She half grins, then her eyes fill with tears. “I mean it.” I thumb her tears away. “You have my word. Nothing’s going to happen to him. Not as long as I still breathe.”

  Iris pulls me in, hugs me again. Cleansing steam coils up from the vents at our feet, filling the tiny alcove with its sharp Creolin scent. I take in a deep breath, glad to back at the Compound; glad to be breathing safe air.

  Something small lands thump against my knees, knocking me off balance. A pair of tiny hands clutches my skirts. I look down to see a mop of fiery red curls cascading over the back of emerald dress. “Hello, Miss Cordelia,” I say.

  She looks up at me, her big brown eyes sparkling with tears. “I thought you were dead,” she whispers.

  “A popular consensus round here,” I jest, falling to my knees. Though my humor fizzles, unappreciated. “Look at me,” I say, taking little Cordelia’s face in my hands. “I want you to promise me, you’ll never think that way again. We are our thoughts, you know? So we must always try hard to keep our thoughts positive. Do you understand?”

  She snivels and nods her head.

  “Besides,” I pull her in for a quick hug, “the ones we love never die as long as we keep them alive in our hearts. Did you know that?” She shakes her head and sucks her lip. “Well, now you do.” I bounce a finger off the end of her nose. “Promise me you’ll remember that, no matter what happens?”

  She nods again. “Good.” I lean forward, planting a kiss on her forehead.

  “Is Bertie with you?” she whispers softly.

  “Oh,” I take a breath, “I’m sorry, sweetie,” I say, running a hand through her hair. “I’m afraid he didn’t make it.”

  Her brown eyes brim with tears.

  “Now, now, remember what just I told you?” She gulps, trying to swallow them back. “We’ll keep Bertie alive in ou
r hearts,” I press her hand to her chest, “so he’s never really gone. How’s that?” She grins. “And when Urlick gets home, we’ll build another Bertie, together in his honor. Bertie junior we’ll call him. And we’ll start with these.” I pull Bertie’s scorched headlights from my pocket and lay them in her hand.

  “About that,” C.L. interrupts. “Not to throw a damper on the party, but ’ave you given any thought to ’ow you’ll get to Urlick without the ’elp of Bertie?”

  “I was rather hoping maybe you and Iris might have a plan.”

  Iris chews her lip, looks away.

  “I’m afraid we’re fresh out, Mum.”

  “Well then,” I stand, rolling my hands together, my mind a flurry of thought, “without Bertie, I’ve no other choice but to use Clementine to go back to the city—”

  “Clementine? But you’ll be spotted on ’orse for sure.”

  The glint of Ida’s locket hanging around Cordelia’s neck catches my eye. I take it in my hand, rolling my thumb over the angel wing etching on the front of it. A wry smile warms my lips. “On an ordinary horse, perhaps…”

  “I beg your pardon, Mum?”

  “Do you have some parchment and some ink handy?”

  Iris races off to find what I need, returning seconds later.

  “What are you thinking?” C.L. asks, passing me the pen.

  “I’m thinking Urlick’s not the only one who can make something fly.”

  Cordelia claps her hands and giggles.

  “Iris, the paper please.” She rolls the parchment out over a table at the end of the hall and inks the well. I dunk the nib and start to draw.

  “An armored ’orse, Mum.” C.L. says, watching over my shoulder. “You planning on storming the city in a Trojan?

  “Better than that,” I say, adding the finishing touches. “Have you ever heard of Pegasus?”

  “Yes, Mum.” C.L. nods his head.

  “Well, imagine Pegasus in an armored suit and a set of mechanical raven wings.”