The Rift Walker

Home > Other > The Rift Walker > Page 37
The Rift Walker Page 37

by Clay Griffith


  “Please, Highness. Relax for a moment.”

  “Nonsense. Let's continue.” Adele looked at the page. They had been discussing energy absorption and reflectivity in crystals. She saw the drawing Mamoru had made for the exercise, a crystal structure with twenty-five facets identified and labeled for her to assess their function. She realized now how simplistic, even wrong, the drawing was, and took up her pencil to correct it.

  Her teacher paused midword as she began to sketch, his mouth open and eyes widening. He glanced between her gaze fixed on the drawing and her sure hand that scratched pencil across paper. Finally, without a pause to consider it, she gave the notebook to him.

  “Is that right?” she asked.

  “I…I have no idea.” The labeling system she had scrawled on the drawing was infinitely more nuanced than his had been. “You couldn't possibly know this because it is far more advanced than we have ventured. I grasp aspects of your work, but other things are, frankly, a mystery.”

  Adele took the drawing back, and some of the elements she had changed were already incomprehensible to her. It was like a dream that burned lucid on waking, but became increasingly distant and nonsensical as the rational day set in.

  She hung her head. “What's happening to me?”

  Mamoru rose to one knee and squeezed her hand. “I can only imagine. What do you remember?”

  “I don't know. Colors. Smells. I felt lost, as if I might never find my way back. But I still wanted to keep going.”

  Mamoru closed her notebook and tossed it aside. “Petty academic theory, it would seem, is now a moot point for you. I believe you are experiencing what ancients called the Belly of the Dragon. You were among the energies of the earth. One day you will master them, but for now you are not prepared.”

  “Master them? For what?”

  Mamoru helped Adele to her unsteady feet. “That remains to be seen, Highness. There has never been anyone like you in my lifetime. Perhaps we should conclude our lesson for today.”

  “Must we?” Adele took him by the shoulders. “I want to explore—”

  Mamoru held up a stern finger. “No! I know that look on your face. Do not attempt these practices alone. I must be with you. You have no conception of the peril. You will become lost, and there is no one who can bring you back.”

  The princess raised her chin. “I performed adequately up in the mountains.”

  “Adele!” Mamoru shouted angrily. “Listen to me! This is no game. This is no masquerade in the alleys of Alexandria. You were very lucky not to have been swept away just now. These energies are terrible things and can easily destroy you. I beg you to believe me that you are not ready to act alone!”

  She had rarely heard Mamoru shout. “Yes, fine. I understand.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise. I won't do anything without you.”

  Mamoru visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Your Highness. It's only that we are so close, and yet we have so much more work. I shouldn't like to see anything put the future in peril.”

  Adele took his arm, linking elbows. “Thank you for teaching me. I can just hardly believe any of this is true.”

  “I understand that, but it is true. Finally.”

  She laughed from the excitement of it all and danced a few steps, barefoot and dressed in a colorful, flowing dress of local cloth. “I can't believe you and Selkirk have been experiencing these miracles for years. And you didn't tell me.”

  The samurai nodded with a sad smile. “No one has ever experienced what you are now seeing, certainly not me. If you'll excuse me.” He took his leave of her with a warm, familiar bow.

  Adele breathed in the morning heat. Gareth would be ensconced in her apartments by now, huddled under a cooling blanket. The ever-present heat of the Katangan day, and his infrequent feedings, wore on him. He was becoming ever more distant and isolated and found excuses to spend less time with her just when she was most excited to share her lessons from Mamoru.

  The climate of Alexandria would be less oppressive than Katanga. Once Adele assumed power, Gareth could come and go as he pleased. It would be perfectly logical that the Greyfriar would coordinate his actions with the Equatorian government. She couldn't plan much beyond that, but it was sufficient for now that there was a future together, in some fashion. That alone brought a bright smile.

  Adele was waiting for the results of political feelers sent out by Colonel Anhalt to determine the receptivity to her return to Alexandria. She had to go back in any case, but the willingness of the army to accept her would be key. The last thing she wanted was to spark a civil war with Simon as the titular leader of her enemy. Adele had tried through various channels to communicate with Simon, but it was impossible. The young boy was no longer her brother; he was the emperor presumptive and therefore shielded from the outside world with no will of his own, controlled by a puppeteer. The idea of finding some way to assassinate Lord Kelvin had even been floated, but that was out of the question, or so Adele hoped. A reign launched in bloodshed was unacceptable.

  Colonel Anhalt pushed through the garden gate and approached. No matter the heat, he was in full uniform with every button done up and every seam sharp, his hair immaculately trimmed. He carried a sheaf of papers under one arm and briskly doffed his helmet under the other.

  “Highness, are you at liberty?”

  “I am, Colonel. What news?”

  Without a flutter of hesitation, Anhalt reached into his jacket and proffered a handkerchief. He pointed to his own face, indicating that Adele needed to clean up.

  “Studies can be vigorous at times.” Adele wiped at her cheek, coming away with dirt. She grinned at the meticulous Gurkha and patted her skirt without finding a mirror, which wasn't surprising since she was a young woman who rarely carried a makeup compact.

  Anhalt reached to his boot and withdrew a dagger with a bright, flat blade. She took it gratefully and studied her distorted face in the weapon. Her cheeks were streaked with black volcanic dirt that she now noticed covered her hands too.

  Chuckling, she wiped her face. “Quite the horror. I look like Simon on a good day. Pray continue, Colonel.”

  “I am reliably informed that the Fifth Nile at Khartoum would support your claim. In addition, the provincial governments at the Cape and in Ceylon, and perhaps in Bengal, would need little prodding to proclaim Kelvin's regency illegal.”

  “As a precursor to secession, I imagine.” Adele's expression sobered. “No, Colonel, I won't assist the Empire to dismember itself. And I will not use the Fifth Nile to storm Alexandria. I won't be remembered as the one who destroyed Equatoria. What of the garrison in Alexandria?”

  “I have little hard information, I fear. Former members of the White Guard have been cashiered or reassigned far from the capital. Many old officers of your father's army have been forcibly retired. Lord Kelvin has done a thorough job in putting his loyalists in command.”

  The scowl on her face matched her colonel's. “There's no one in Alexandria you trust?”

  “Perhaps. Captain Eskandari, now a general, is the head of Home Defense.”

  “I don't know him. Persian?”

  “Yes, Highness. A Marine. A thorough soldier. He served with Senator Clark at Bordeaux. Apparently he was also the key to Lord Kelvin consolidating his authority over the senator in the chaos following the vampire attack on Alexandria.”

  “Kelvinist, then?”

  “Perhaps not. It may simply be that he was unwilling to cede power to a foreigner. If Eskandari is a strict imperialist, then he may well support your return as rightful heir. In any case, he is the one who holds the gates of Alexandria in his hands.”

  Adele nodded knowingly. “I want to know everything you can tell me about him. I see no reason to delay further; let's go home and see what fate awaits us. I'll check with Greyfriar to see if he's just as willing to rescue me from the gallows as from the altar.”

  Adele descended stone steps into a damp cellar. Gareth had moved out
of his room near Adele's quarters, which, in truth, had been designed for storage. It had satisfied him perfectly well, until recently, when he relocated to a room deep below the palace complex, claiming it was cooler. She couldn't help but think of her snide comments months ago to Gareth about vampires living in holes in the ground. She pushed open the clammy door and held up a lantern to fill the blackness.

  A shape moved in the corner and Gareth hissed.

  She stepped in as her chest tightened with concern. “Are you ill?”

  “No.” He shuffled farther away.

  Adele stood in dismay. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Gareth, this isn't like you. Is it the climate? We're returning north soon, so that should help.”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you hungry? Do you need to feed?”

  “No.” His voice was clipped and strained.

  She stared at the hunched outline of the prince. She couldn't make out his face to read his emotions, so she kept her voice calm. “Gareth, don't do this. Tell me what's wrong.”

  He grunted.

  “Say something,” Adele said. “You can't become this”—she waved her hand toward him—”this thing. I need you. You're all I have. What is it?”

  “It's you.”

  She froze with uncertainty and fear. “What do you mean?”

  Gareth inched forward with his head down, as if avoiding her gaze. “You've changed. I can't bear to be near you.”

  “Changed? I've done nothing but reach out to you, to plead with you to stay with me in Alexandria as much or as little as you can. I've done everything for us. You've crawled into this tomb to live in the dark. How have I changed?”

  He looked up, and his blue eyes were bloodshot and exhausted. “Every day you spend learning your secrets, I feel more pain when I'm with you. Adele, you are becoming something I can't be near.”

  She gasped. It had never occurred to her that all the geomancy practice with Mamoru was altering her. She was turning into a reservoir of pain for Gareth.

  In her training, Adele had experienced the sublime and the miraculous, a powerful sense of nurturing unlike anything she had ever known, comparable to vaguely held memories of her mother's arms. Her journeys were sometimes confusing or frightening, but she always returned invigorated, almost vibrating with life, as if her skin didn't just enclose her body, but rather was touched by everything she could imagine.

  Now, in one succinct instant, the void between her and Gareth yawned inseparably wide. Again, it hit home that they were different species. There was nothing they shared. What nurtured one, killed the other.

  Her heart fell.

  Gareth said, “I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you. It obviously means so much to you. When you go home and become empress, I will return to the north. You will be free to become what you should.”

  “I don't want to continue if it's driving you away.”

  “We will stay in contact.”

  “No!” Adele shouted. “We won't part again like this. I will find a way. If I have to suspend my studies, I will.”

  “No, Adele. Don't stop—”

  “I'll do what I wish. My days of being told what to do are finished. If I want to give up my studies, I will. Or I'll only practice when you are away in the north. But you will not disappear again.” She lifted a stern hand, bristling with conviction, cutting off any retort from him. “I don't care what you think. I don't care what anyone thinks. I don't care if I turn into a feeble old woman and you're still young. I will have you with me! Is that clear?”

  “Yes.” He regarded her. Every day she became more empress than young woman. He drew a haggard smile. She was too magnificent to deny.

  “Good.” Adele nodded curtly, her anger swiftly subsiding with relief that he agreed. “You know, this noble, anguished hero routine of yours goes only so far. Now, we are departing on Edinburgh in two days. I'll suspend my meditation and exercises so hopefully you can bear to be in my presence by then. It may be a moot point because the Equatorian army could destroy us before we enter Alexandrian air.”

  “Do they know you are coming?”

  “They will. I'm cabling the sublime Kelvin Pasha to inform him of our arrival time. We have a few other contacts who will ensure that the city is aware.”

  “Princess Adele and the Greyfriar return.”

  “Curtain rises.”

  THE PREVAILING NORTHERLIES off the Mediterranean forced Edinburgh to take valuable time tacking repeatedly as she approached Alexandria from the south. Captain Hariri crossed the quarterdeck to Adele and Greyfriar. “Three Equatorian frigates moving to intercept.”

  “Where?” Adele studied the skies around her with a spyglass. The air was crowded with vessels of both commerce and war, but she couldn't discern any immediate threat.

  The captain pointed at three ships out of the scores filling the sky, at varying distances and directions.

  “Can we avoid them?” Greyfriar asked, his scarf blowing in the wind. He moved vigorously with no trace of weakness. All his burns were healed.

  “Not all of them. And even if I could, there will be others. Even hidebound imperial captains can manage to rule the air over Alexandria through sheer numbers. They'll have us hemmed in before we can reach Pharos One.”

  “Good thing we're not going to Pharos One,” Adele said.

  Hariri glanced questioningly at the princess. Greyfriar had been with her too long to show surprise.

  She faced the captain. “I should like to put down on the north shore of Lake Mareotis, if you can.”

  “There are no mooring towers in the Limehouse district, ma'am.”

  “Yes, I know. I won't need to stay long. We'll be going over the side on drop lines. Can you do it?”

  The captain shrugged. “I can.”

  “Excellent. Thank you. We are ready when you are.”

  Hariri returned to the binnacle to plot a course and issue orders for a ground-anchored stop in an inhabited area. Adele stood at the rail, watching the yellow desert intermingle with the blue-white sparkling Nile delta and then blur into the grey, sprawling city of Alexandria. Through the haze, she could see the dim silhouette of Victoria Palace on the coast. Her breath sharpened at the sight of so many familiar old places. But they seemed different to her, almost mysterious, as if she were a visitor unsure of her reception in this strange city. This was a different home from the one she had left. No matter what happened today, this city, that palace, would never be what they had been to her as a young girl. Those days were gone forever.

  Greyfriar said, “Would you care to share your plans? Why set down so far from your palace?”

  “I intend to walk.”

  “Walk? Across Alexandria?”

  “Yes. I should like the people to know that their princess has returned.”

  “Your Lord Kelvin will find that quite antagonistic.”

  “Oh, that ship has sailed long ago. I can't trust the army. I don't trust the lords. But I do trust the people.”

  “The people are a touchy weapon. They're powerful, sure, but likely to go off at the wrong time.”

  “I've got little else. I spent time among them, and I realize that they love me. Or at least they love the idea of me. Plus, I've brought my secret weapon.”

  “The Greyfriar?”

  “Yes.” Adele smiled and patted his chest. “One thing I know is that the people love a happy ending. And we're going to give them one.” Enough time had passed since Adele last trained that her touch no longer caused him pain. That simple fact sang in her heart.

  “So dangerous, Adele.”

  “All hands brace for descent!” the bosun shouted, and a claxon rang across the ship.

  Adele assumed a wide stance and grasped the rail. “I'd say in twenty-four hours you will either be the consort of Empress Adele the First, or we'll all be dead.”

  “Both have their challenges,” Greyfriar replied wryly.

  She laughed over the roar o
f venting buoyants overhead as poor, repaired Edinburgh fell rapidly. The wooden hull creaked with the strain, and boards shuddered. The dusty air rushed upward, and shining Lake Mareotis appeared. As they plunged, they drifted north, and the buildings of Alexandria rose into view. Captain Hariri grinned with excitement and shouted a command; chemical pumps pushed buoyant back into certain bags, and Edinburgh slowed its descent. The yards and deck were full of scrambling men securing sail and sending drop lines and anchors over the side.

  “Your Highness,” Hariri shouted as chaos flowed around him. “We can moor temporarily to a building if necessary. How long do you need us here?”

  “Not long, I should think.” Adele already saw Colonel Anhalt leading his men up from the companionway onto the deck. Their tramping feet filled her with excitement, but she beamed at the sight of Anhalt and troopers in their red jackets with blue trousers and white helmets. They were the White Guard once again.

  Colonel Anhalt came to attention before Adele and saluted. His cool façade couldn't hide the pride he felt commanding his White Guard. “Ready to proceed, Your Highness.”

  “Carry on, Colonel. Form ranks below and await my orders.”

  “As you will.” He spun sharply and bellowed, “Over the side! Form square and hold!” The colonel seized a drop lever with a gloved hand and swung over without hesitation.

  From the corner of her eye, Adele saw Mamoru crossing the deck. The wind whipped his green silk robe, and he clutched the cutlass thrust inside the obi around his waist. He bowed to her, then glanced over the side with an uncertain tremor.

  “Hm,” he said. “Quite high.”

  “You should stay with the ship,” Adele said. “If this goes badly, there's no reason for you to be injured by it. You can return to Java and teach.”

  The samurai shook his head. “There is no one else to teach. I shall stay with you. I know what you hope to do, but I remind you, there are many secret paths into the palace.”

  “Secrecy doesn't accomplish my goals. The Empire must witness me take power. Have you ever used a drop line from an airship?”

 

‹ Prev