Broken Veil

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Broken Veil Page 6

by Jeff Wheeler


  But she had known this would happen. The Mysteries had warned her a blight of war would come to punish both worlds. She could not stop it. Even if she pulled her forces out of Kingfountain, Montpensier would continue to attack. The remaining mirror gates could be destroyed, certainly, but then their access to other worlds would be curtailed. For good. She did not wish to be the leader who isolated their world forever.

  No, the war must continue until Montpensier was defeated. He was a cunning foe, a relentless force to be reckoned with. She could remember sitting across the table from him during dinners at the palace of Kingfountain, trading barbs and deflecting his insults. If she’d known then the impact the man would have on her life . . . she’d have lunged across the table with a knife and stabbed him in the heart. Maybe not, but it was a fancy she sometimes permitted herself.

  After the privy council meeting, where the news about Welles was greeted with surprise, Sera went to her secret sanctuary inside the palace of Lockhaven. From this control room, she could access every Leering in the City, even though Lockhaven itself was now leagues away. The guards greeted her, and after exchanging pleasantries with them, something she made a point of doing because her father had not, she sequestered herself in the inner sanctum. She was to hold a conference with Prince Kasdan, her husband’s younger brother, via Leering. Kasdan was married to the daughter of the Duke of Brythonica, their chief ally in the war.

  Sera loved the inner sanctum, the only place in the empire where she could be at peace, where no one would interrupt. Sera arranged herself on the couch beside the Command Leering and placed her palm on the cool stone.

  The magic soaked into her, and she could sense Lockhaven’s position hovering over the sea near the ruins of the mirror gate that had once stood there. Ships of all sizes and makes filled the air around them, ferrying items and soldiers through the enormous rift in the sky. The constant flood of supplies, fresh soldiers as well as recovering ones, and war material never stopped. It was impossible to quantify the effort that went into sustaining the war. Merchants on both sides had been enriched beyond belief. Others had been ruined.

  Like your husband, a voice whispered in her head.

  She focused her wandering thoughts on the matter at hand and reached through the Leering to connect with Admiral Grant’s hurricane, the Pleasance.

  The high admiral’s personal secretary greeted her from the Leering. He would provide the conduit for Sera to communicate with Kasdan. Her field of vision expanded, giving her a panoramic view of the admiral’s private quarters, which were untidy and full of heaps of correspondence. The dim light was a reminder that when it was morning at home, it was dark in Kingfountain. Her view changed suddenly, and she saw Kasdan and his wife, Marie Elysabeth Penthievre. Kasdan was quite tall and striking and his wife more diminutive, which had always made Sera, who was small in stature herself, partial to her. A little boy raced past them, waving at the couple as he left the room. They gave him a fond look as they approached the Leering hand in hand.

  “You look well, Kasdan,” Sera said by way of greeting. “If a bit tired. You both are overdue some rest, I think. I’ll try to keep this brief. Who was that little boy?”

  “That was my nephew, Curtis, the little scamp. No need to apologize, Sera,” said Marie Elysabeth with a bright smile. “Your time is precious to us as well. We have some news.” She stroked Kasdan’s arm, looking up at him with a glimmer in her eyes, and Sera knew.

  “When is the baby due?” she said. She knew, from her own experience with communication between the realms, that the magic worked differently in Kingfountain. Whereas she could see them plainly, as if they stood opposite her, the Leering on their end rendered her visible to them through a sheen of fine mist, a peculiarity that came of Fountain magic interacting with the Mysteries.

  “We’re not sure,” Kasdan said. “The midwife thinks seven more months? It’s difficult to predict. But we are pleased and grateful.”

  “I’m happy for you both. We need more good news these days.”

  “I agree,” said Marie Elysabeth. “Unfortunately, that is all the good news we bring today.” Her smile faded, just slightly.

  Sera respected how close they were, how neither dominated the conversation. She knew that Kasdan and Marie Elysabeth were full partners in every way. The Penthievres had been ruling Brythonica for several generations, and while the duke led his forces in the front, his daughter and son-in-law ruled the duchy in his absence.

  “What news, then?” Sera asked, preparing herself to be disappointed.

  “We had word that Trevon was seen in Leoneyis, hidden in a farmhouse. We dispatched men immediately to raid it, only to find he’d been smuggled out the night before. The farmer didn’t know who the prisoner was, only that he was bearded, dressed in soiled clothes, and looked feverish. But upon further inquiry, and after he was shown a painting of my brother, the farmer confirmed it was him.”

  “The night before?” Sera said, her voice breaking. How many times had it happened? How many times had they come so close to rescuing her husband, only to fail?

  Marie Elysabeth reached out to touch the Leering as if she could transmit her tenderness through the stone.

  “I’m so sorry, Sera,” Kasdan said wretchedly. “We acted as soon as we could. I think Montpensier has to move him constantly and only among his most trusted men. The reward offered for his rescue would tempt any ordinary man. There are hunters scouring the woods for signs of their trail. I had so hoped to give you good news tonight.” He shook his head in muted frustration. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Kasdan,” Sera said, mustering her resolve. “That he’s still alive is hope enough. That blackguard has already done enough damage to your family. I know you are doing your best to find him.”

  “We won’t stop trying, Sera,” said Marie Elysabeth.

  “I know. Any other news? Has there been any sign of Cettie Pratt? How fares the war from your perspective?”

  “Of your friend, nothing. I’m sorry. As to the war . . . bloody and bloody difficult,” said Kasdan with a sigh. “We have brought the fight to Montpensier, but that comes at a price. Leoneyis is his homeland, and he knows every river and every hill. And he’s paying pirates to ambush our sky ships. I fear he’s also convinced some of the other rulers to pull back from supporting us and look to defend their own borders. Legault has withdrawn fully. Occitania continues to increase its demands in return for its cooperation.”

  That concerned Sera greatly. “How so?”

  “The Prince of Occitania recently withdrew one of his regiments from the front to attack Montpensier’s lands in La Marche. The general is not there to defend them, so the prince decided to carve up a portion for himself while we continue the attack. He’s demanding we ratify his conquest.”

  “Selfish man,” Sera said disdainfully.

  “I agree,” Marie Elysabeth said, her eyes darkening. “Ancient squabbles bubble up during times of uncertainty. Long ago, Brythonica used to be part of Occitania. I think the good prince sees this as an opportunity to increase his own power at the expense of others’.”

  Sera let out her breath. “This alliance we have with Occitania is precarious. We all agree in the adage that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. But that does not make us friends for long. Surely the prince realizes that if we fail to overthrow Montpensier now, the general will wreak havoc on Occitania later.”

  Kasdan smirked. “I think he is betting that you won’t allow that to happen.”

  Sera rubbed her hand along the Leering’s surface. “I’ll talk to Lord Halifax and see how many supply contracts we have with businesses supporting Occitania. It might be time to shift some of those elsewhere.”

  Kasdan and Marie Elysabeth exchanged a smile.

  “I think that might do some good,” Marie Elysabeth said, her eyes twinkling.

  “What is the state of the widows and orphans?” Sera asked next. She always wanted to know how the war was affe
cting those most impacted by the devastation.

  “Sufficiently grim, Sera,” Kasdan said. “I imagine it is a mounting concern in your world as well.”

  “There are so many to look after,” Sera agreed. “If there is anything we can do to help, do let me know.”

  “There is one thing. Find a cure for the cholera morbus,” said Kasdan. “It is devastating our cities. People are afraid to even touch the corpses for fear of the contagion.”

  “Touching a corpse won’t cause someone to contract it,” Sera said, shaking her head. “I have it on the authority of Doctor Creigh that it is not transmitted that way.”

  Marie Elysabeth nodded. “And no one else would know better. But people are superstitious. Because the victims’ deaths are so horrific, they feel it is a curse from the Fountain. Some think we’ve been cursed for our alliance with you. No amount of reasoning will work. If a cure can be found . . . it would be advantageous to all of us.”

  “I will ask Adam for an update on the situation. He’s studying the disease at Killingworth Hospital right now, in the part of the empire most affected by it. He does so at great personal risk.”

  “We will fight on, Sera,” Marie Elysabeth said. “General Montpensier’s crimes are inexcusable. He will be brought to justice.” Kasdan pulled up her hand and kissed her knuckles. She gave him a fond smile.

  “I just wish so many innocents did not have to suffer for one man’s ambition,” Sera said, nodding in agreement. It was time to let them get some sleep. “I bid you both good night. And thank you for sharing your good news. I’m so happy for you both.”

  She meant it, and yet her earnest well wishes were somewhat tainted by her own unhappiness. She’d never taken off her wedding ring, nor did she wish to, yet she could not ignore the fact that Trevon’s current imprisonment was not the only obstacle between them. What would happen if they did rescue Trevon? He was the heir of Kingfountain, the rightful ruler of his empire, just as Sera was the rightful ruler of her empire. She could not imagine abandoning her people to serve Trevon’s, much as she could not imagine him doing the same. Leading up to their marriage, they had spent three months at a time in each of the realms. Could two vastly different and competing worlds be ruled in such a way? She’d asked herself that question over and over again since the day she was made empress, and her heart still told her no.

  Should she manage to free Trevon from his imprisonment, it might mean an annulment of their marriage. The thought gave her a bitter taste, but it didn’t mean she’d stop trying to save him. She’d never stop. Even if they wouldn’t be together.

  “We’re sorry it had to be tainted with such ill news,” Marie Elysabeth said, interrupting her thoughts and giving her a knowing look. “Let us hope our next visit brings better tidings.”

  “I hope so as well. Good night.”

  “Good night, Sera,” Kasdan said.

  Pulling away from the Leering, she squeezed her hands into fists, determined not to lose hope. She trusted the Mysteries. She’d been guided by them during her time as empress.

  Trust. Believe.

  She knew she couldn’t see the future. She couldn’t see past the next few hours of meetings and interruptions. And then there was dinner with her mother to consider. Sera sighed. One thing at a time.

  The rest of the day fled past, giving Sera little time to nurse her grief and sadness. Not that she wanted to anyway. Before she knew it, she realized she was half an hour late to dinner. She walked down the corridor with Durrant, who stopped at the door of her room with her.

  “I’ve a meeting with Lord Halifax, which I’m late to,” he said. “Good luck.” He gave her a knowing wink.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to switch with me?” she asked.

  “No, not particularly. Your mother is a sweet soul, bless her heart. She’ll likely plead again to be on the privy council. I can’t tell you how many times Lady Florence has importuned me on her behalf. I still am of the opinion that one should be on the council for a reason, for a purpose or advantage one brings to the council as a whole. I’m afraid I just don’t see one in this case. But do let me know if I’m wrong!” He chuckled to himself.

  “I’ll meet you after dinner, then, and we can commiserate.” Durrant turned to leave, but Sera caught his sleeve. “One thing. Remember to ask Lord Halifax about our trade agreements with Occitania.”

  “I haven’t forgotten our conversation,” he said, nodding. She’d told him of her decision after her conversation with Kasdan. She’d suspected he wouldn’t need reminding. He remembered everything. Her guards opened the door for her, and Sera entered to find her mother sitting primly at the small table. There was a young maid with her, who quickly rose and curtsied. Sera had never seen the girl before. Her own maid, Becka, was also present, and looked hugely relieved to see her. It wouldn’t have surprised Sera in the least to learn her mother had arrived hours in advance of the dinner and forced poor Becka to entertain her.

  “Hello, Mother,” Sera said, striding into the room.

  Mother turned and looked at her, the expression on her face one of reproof for being made to wait so long.

  “You’re here at last,” Mother said with a toss of her head. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten.”

  After all she had gone through that day, Sera had little patience for her mother’s little criticisms. But she swallowed her feelings and joined her at the table.

  “I’m afraid the food’s probably cold,” Mother said. “Shall we send for a replacement?”

  Sera had no desire to be trapped even longer with her mother. “No, this will be fine. I eat my meals cold constantly.” She raised the silver chafing dish in front of her, and not a whiff of steam came from it. Roasted pheasant covered in some sort of gravy. Another covered dish sat beside it.

  “Well, the cooks went through the effort. At least we can enjoy it. Will your servants attend to us?”

  “I’d rather not stand on ceremony,” Sera answered. “We don’t keep many servants anymore. The war efforts have depleted our staff considerably.”

  “I had no idea,” Mother said. She reached out and served herself, and then, as if Sera were still a child, served her next. The portion was much bigger than she would have chosen for herself, but she didn’t feel obligated to eat it all. Her mother lifted the other silver dish, revealing a tray of roasted vegetables, and heaped some onto each of their plates.

  Sera thanked her, and then Becka, who had filled both of their goblets. The other maid had said nary a word.

  “Who is your maid?” Sera asked, looking down at her plate. She was ravenously hungry, and the dish smelled pleasant, exotic even. She took one bite, then another.

  “She’s new,” Mother said. “I adore her. She’s not very talkative, but she’s a good replacement. The other got married, you know.”

  Sera wiped her mouth on her napkin and turned to face the maid. “Welcome. I’m glad you could come,” she said, addressing the young woman with a little nod.

  “There is something I wanted to talk to you about,” Mother said, using her knife to cut off a piece of meat.

  It was coming already. “What is that?”

  “We’ve spoken of it before. I think, and I know Lady Florence agrees with me, that as your mother, I deserve a seat on the privy council.”

  Sera sighed inwardly. She reached for her goblet to take a drink and noticed her hand was trembling. Perhaps she’d gone too long without food. She clenched her fingers into a fist and tried again, but she trembled so much that some of the contents sloshed onto the tablecloth. What was going on? Why couldn’t she control her arm? A spasm shook her stomach.

  Mother was busy pushing food around her plate, oblivious to Sera’s distress. But then her eyes flicked up, and the look of guilt in them struck Sera like a blow. She understood at once that the meal had been poisoned. That her mother had probably done it. There she was, cutting away at her dish . . . not eating a single bite.

  Sera trie
d to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t work. She felt tremors spread through her entire body. Blackness began to crimp in around her vision.

  In fear, she dragged her arm toward her chest. The Tay al-Ard was strapped to her forearm, beneath her gown. She tried digging her fingers into the cuff of her sleeve, but her body’s violent trembling made it impossible.

  Then a hand gripped her forearm. A hand belonging to a woman who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Sera instantly recognized the face of her enemy, the woman whom she had lived with under confinement in her youth.

  The former lady Corinne of Pavenham Sky.

  There was a dagger in Corinne’s other hand, and she slit the sleeve of Sera’s dress open without hesitation, the blade ripping into the skin underneath it with a shock of pain and an effusion of blood. The Tay al-Ard was slick with it.

  “Get the maid,” Corinne said to the young woman standing by Mother’s side. Then she yanked the Tay al-Ard from the straps securing it, holding it in her own palm like a treasure. Her eyes glinted with victory.

  Oh no. Oh heavens no! Sera thought with dread as the poison made her lose consciousness.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  PRISONER

  Sera awoke in utter darkness. Her arm was afire with pain, and it took her drugged mind several minutes to piece together her broken memories. Her mother sitting at supper, endlessly cutting into meat that she wouldn’t eat. Lady Corinne’s menacing eyes. A dagger slicing into her forearm.

  I didn’t see it coming, Sera thought with despair. She knew—she’d been warned—that Lady Corinne would attack her, but she’d trusted in her guards, in the safety of Lockhaven, in the Mysteries. And now this.

 

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