Secrets in the Mist

by Morgan L. Busse

  “What about you?”

  Jeremiah balked. “Me?”

  “Why aren’t you a diver?”

  He let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not crazy about gliding. And I have no desire to see another Turned.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’ve seen a Turned? Close up?”

  “Yes.”

  Before she could ask more questions, someone yelled for Jeremiah.

  “I gotta go.” He turned and ran across the main deck to the stairs that led up to the first deck.

  Cass watched him go, her eyebrows furrowed. She’d only seen the Turned in the Mist just beyond the border, shuffling through the trees like lumbering shadows. Maybe it was because she was more focused on surviving amongst the living to pay attention to the dead. But the way Jeremiah spoke just now sent a slight shiver down her back. Being a diver meant not only diving down into the Mist, it also meant running into the Turned.

  “Strange.” Theo could still picture the petite figure in his mind from yesterday, dressed in an oversized, ragged coat, standing by the street corner near the church. Strange because scroungers never traveled that far up the mountain. Why was she there? There was talk again about overpopulation, and recently the Staggs family had ordered another Purge. He often wondered why nothing was ever done about the Mist that hung below the mountains, the very reason for the population mass in Belhold and other cities.

  And strange because he couldn’t get her out of his head. That is, her eyes. He had been startled by them. Eyes like emeralds. The brightest green eyes he’d ever seen.

  A fire crackled in the nearby fireplace, warming the cozy study. Out of all the rooms in the manse, this one was his favorite, with its narrow windows open to the sky and overstuffed chairs, books, and cool green coloring. Clouds glided across the window as the sky island the manse was built upon started to move.

  “You seem very introspective today, Brother.”

  Theo looked away from the window to see his younger sister enter the drawing room. Adora’s blonde hair was pulled up in a simple but fashionable style, and she held a hat in her hand. “Going out?”

  “Yes. Rebecca invited me to go shopping with her. And I want to leave before Aunt Maude finds out.”

  Theo pictured their aunt with her hawklike nose and constant need to stick that nose in everyone’s business.

  She placed the hat on her head. “And what are you doing today?” she asked as she slowly pulled on dainty white gloves.

  “I have a meeting with the board, then a lecture at Browning I want to attend, then I’ll probably read tonight.”

  “So you won’t be working on your little experiments in the lab?”

  “No, not tonight.” He stood and gave his outer jacket a tug to smooth away any wrinkles.

  She was silent a moment. “Are you still researching the Mist?” Her voice sobered as she looked up.

  “I am.”

  “You know Grandfather is against it.” She studied him. “Maybe he’s right. You’re not very social, Theo. You should get out more.”

  Theo shook his head. “I’ll be back at school next week. That’s enough socializing for me.”

  “What about parties? Young ladies? Do you want to remain a bachelor?”

  “I know the kind of ladies who attend those parties you like so much. Their heads are full of fluff, and their conversation is dull and tedious.”

  “Not everyone can be an intellect like you, Brother.”

  “Yes, but I at least want to meet a woman who can think,” he said wryly. “I haven’t found her yet.”

  “Except for me.”

  Adora looked at him with a grin, and he relaxed. “Except for you. Which is why I don’t understand how you can attend such parties.”

  She finished the last touches of her attire and laughed. “Because they’re fun.”

  Theo snorted. “I find other things more amusing.”

  Adora gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You are certainly unique. Don’t let Grandfather catch you in the lab.” She turned to the door. “Have a good time at the lecture.”

  “I will,” he replied as he watched his sister step out into the hallway. A moment later, the bell rang, and the house filled with the twitter of giggles and rapid conversation between Adora and her friend. He waited until they left, then sank into his chair.

  Once again his mind drifted back to the young street woman. Not only had she made her way up into the upper district, but she had climbed the church and looked inside the stained glass windows. While others had been appalled, he had been silently surprised by her boldness and slightly amused. Her actions were strangely refreshing compared to the shallow lives of those around him.

  He stared out the window again. Where was she now? Still somewhere along the mountaintop? Or was she back down by the dead zone along the misty border?

  And why did he care?

  Maybe he would spend an hour in the lab before the board meeting. He felt like he was on the cusp of a breakthrough with his research. Maybe even close enough to bring his findings to the university next week.

  Two hours later Theo stood along the outer wall of the boardroom, his hands at his sides, as pipe smoke drifted through the room. In the middle stood a long, elegant table with two-gaslight chandeliers overhead. His grandfather, Crispin Winchester, sat at one end, while Salomon Staggs sat at the other. The chairs in between were filled with the heads of the other three powerful Families of the sky: Reynard Atwood, Titus Kingsford, and Margaret Etherington.

  Around the room were members of these Families: sons, daughters, heirs, those who would sit in these chairs someday. And given the age of a couple of those seated, that time would soon be coming.

  His grandfather opened up the meeting with the latest findings of the Alchemy Society. His long white hair, usually pulled back with a leather piece, now hung along his shoulders. His brown eyes peered around the room from behind a set of spectacles, his entire being exuding an aura of knowledge and cunning. There was no one more intelligent than his grandfather, and everyone in this room knew it.

  Salomon Staggs discoursed on the state of agriculture and the need for more land, followed by the other Families on production, housing, travel, and taxes.

  Theo listened, first curious as to the current state of the world beyond Belhold, then slowly disgusted as words of improvement and future idealisms were thrown around the room when in reality, very little would change. No one was interested in really changing when they held the world in their hands.

  Salomon’s son William appeared bored as he leaned against the wall behind his father and openly yawned. Maria Etherington kept glancing at the Staggs heir from beneath thick lashes. Theo could guess what the young heiress was thinking about, which soured him even more. On the other side of the room, the Kingsford twins looked like miniature images of their father Titus, and made faces at each other when they thought no one was looking.

  The only person who seemed as interested as Theo at the proceedings was Charity Atwood. She leaned forward, intent on her father’s words as he spoke. Her thick black curls were pulled up in a bun, and the lacy blouse she wore complimented her honey skin.

  He knew Miss Charity the least out of all the Families, since the Atwoods lived in the city of Decadenn, which he hardly visited. Maybe he would speak to her afterward.

  As the meeting drew to a close, Salomon Staggs stood up. “May I present one more thing, before we go our separate ways?”

  Theo’s grandfather raised one silver eyebrow. “You may, Salomon, as long as it doesn’t take too long.”

  Salomon flashed him a tight smile. “I think even you will be impressed with my current invention, Crispin.” He glanced over at William. “Son, please bring in our guest.”

  Whispers broke out across the room, and Theo caught his grandfather frowning as he watched the far door. William opened it with a flourish, then stepped back. In the doorway stood a man.

  Or was he?

  The figure stood as tall
as Theo, dressed in similar fashion with a top hat, black coat over an equally dark vest, and a cravat tie. But it was his face—or lack thereof—that caught everyone’s attention. In place of his face was a solid gold mask with three slits that formed a triangle where his nose would be, and two small holes near the bottom. Dark eyes peered out from ovals near the top of the mask. Along with his gentleman garb, the metal-faced man wore a shoulder gun holster over his coat and a sword strapped to his side.

  “This is the future, ladies and gentleman,” Staggs declared. “No more gas masks. No more bluecoats.”

  Theo watched as the metal-man walked in. His gait seemed to indicate there was a human behind the mask, but there was something off about the posture.

  “Is it human?” Margaret Etherington brought her monocle up to her eye.

  “Yes. And no. We found Luron after a Purge, half burned, but still alive.”

  There were more whispers around the room. “How is that possible?” Reynard Atwood asked. His daughter Charity nodded behind him.

  “Against all odds, and everything we understand about the Mist, Luron did not Turn when he was overcome by it. But in his effort to come back, he was caught in the fire and badly burned.”

  Theo’s face tensed. He could imagine the scenario: a man driven into the Mist along with hundreds of others, forced to watch his neighbors and friends Turn while he remained. And in his terror, trying to run back, only to find his way to safety blocked by a wall of flames.

  So why was this Luron with the Staggs family? Did he not know it was the Staggs family, along with everyone else in this room, who had caused his suffering?

  “Can he speak?” Titus Kingsford asked as his twin sons stared at Luron.

  “No, his vocal cords were damaged.”

  Theo spoke up for the first time. “Do we know how he survived? Perhaps Luron is a clue to how we can deal with the Mist.”

  Salomon turned to stare at Theo. So did everyone else. His grandfather’s lips drew into a thin line. “No,” Salomon said a moment later. “I personally oversaw Luron’s recovery and studied the aftereffects of the Mist on his body. He is an anomaly, but one we can utilize. If we can find more like him, they can be used to work in the Mist on our behalf. You’re Theodore Winchester, Crispin’s grandson, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “As head of the Alchemy Society, I would think your grandfather would have already informed you that there is no cure for the Mist. It is part of our world, and therefore we need to learn to survive alongside of it.”

  Theo crossed his arms. “And Purge those along the edge when we need resources or the Mist rises too far.” And what did Staggs mean by using Luron to work in the Mist?

  Grandfather shot him a scalding glare. Salomon waved his hand. “Looks like you’re as lively as your father was. You’re also young and naïve. I won’t count that against you. As you grow older and take your place at this table, you will come to understand.”

  “Come to understand what?”

  Salomon’s face went from merriment to hardness in an instant. “You know very little of the workings of our world, Master Theodore.”

  Theo wanted to protest more, but another look from his grandfather and prudence to know he had spoken enough silenced his voice.

  Murmurs echoed around the table while a couple of heirs glanced at him. He overheard Titus Kingsford say something about being stubborn, as his sons laughed behind him.

  They had to be wrong about the Mist. Or maybe they hadn’t cared to search hard enough.

  But it’s been almost two hundred years, a voice whispered inside his head. Surely a cure should have been found by now. Perhaps Salomon Staggs was right.

  No. His father didn’t believe that. And neither did he. He would keep on searching.

  Theo studied Luron as Salomon went on to discuss the various mechanical devices used to help keep the man alive. What saved the man from Turning? Was it possible he was immune to the deathly spores? Or had he been uncommonly lucky and found some kind of pocket of clear air in the fog perhaps created by a gust of wind? Was is possible this partially metal figure before them could help humanity?

  Theo looked away. Given how Salomon reacted to his comments, the chance of being able to examine and study Luron was almost nil.

  The moment the meeting finished, his grandfather motioned for Theo to leave with him. By then he was more than ready. Glancing at his pocket watch, Theo had a half hour before the lecture began at Browning University. He gave a polite farewell to those gathered and followed his grandfather. As he passed through the doorway, he could feel a set of eyes on him. He glanced back, but no one was looking his way. The only head turned in his direction was the blank metal face of Luron.

  Theo left with a lingering uneasy feeling as he followed his grandfather out of the capitol building and along the wide stone street to where Arthur was waiting with their zipper.

  Once they were settled in the back seat, Arthur started the motor, and the transport lifted into the air.

  “What do you think you were doing?” his grandfather demanded as they flew over the city of Belhold.

  “Stating the obvious.”

  “You were there to observe and learn. Not to speak.”

  Theo looked over the side of the zipper as the flying vehicle sped over rooftops and trees. “I couldn’t help it. No one’s ever been able to give a satisfactory answer as to why the Mist remains.” He turned toward his grandfather. “You saw him, that Luron. He could be the answer. He somehow survived the Mist. If we can find out how and why, maybe we can find a way to eradicate it, or to use Staggs’s words, find a way to live within it. Think of everything we could do if we could claim back the land we lost from the Plague Wars. No more Purges. More factories. More farmland and crops. The population could expand—”

  “Enough, Theo!” Grandfather breathed hard as he gripped the armrest between them. The wind blew the long white strands away from his aged face.

  Theo stared at his grandfather. He didn’t look well. “I’m sorry, Grandfather. I spoke out of turn.”

  His grandfather’s hand trembled as he moved his fingers to Theo’s. “As one of the Five Families, our job is to maintain order and propriety across the lands in the sky. Do you understand?” He gripped Theo’s hand in emphasis.

  “No, I don’t!” Theo wanted to say. But if there was one thing he was learning, there was a proper time and place. And now was not that time. “I do,” he finally answered. It wasn’t a lie. He just felt there was more they could be doing. And he didn’t like what Staggs had said about using anomalies to work in the Mist. That felt too close to servitude. Even if Luron was the only one.

  His grandfather let out a long breath, and his hand came back to the armrest between them. “What are your plans this evening?”

  “There is a lecture on the physical laws and the Mist being given over at Browning University tonight.”

  His grandfather stared straight ahead. “I’m in favor of knowledge, but some knowledge can be deadly. Take care, Theo. Learn what you can, but leave the Mist alone. Do you understand? It’s not your business.”

  “Yes, Grandfather.”

  The zipper hummed at it approached the Winchester manse built on one of the sky islands that hovered over Belhold. With practiced ease, Arthur brought the vehicle down on the platform and opened the door for his grandfather.

  As the two men headed for the manse, Theo moved to the front seat and started the zipper again. He hoped the lecture would give him more information, but if it was like the other lectures in the past, the guest speaker would be careful with his findings. It seemed no one really wanted to find a way to eradicate the Mist, only talk about it.

  The next morning Theo brought the small flyer down near the burnt ground of the most recent Purge. Descending the hill and beyond the scorch line, the Mist hung like a hazy fog across the valley, greyish green and ominous.

  Behind him, shabby tenements now stood empty, paint peeling fr
om boards and rusty nails sticking out. The roof of one had collapsed, and another building looked like it would come down any moment. The Kingsford family was in charge of housing. It would appear they had neglected this area. Or had they simply dismissed this section of Belhold near the border since a Purge had been ordered and the people would no longer need housing?

  Theo’s hands curled around the control wheel of the zipper. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one amongst his peers that actually seemed to care for the people of Belhold and other cities. The board meeting yesterday had emphasized that.

  He pushed his flight goggles up across his forehead and stared at the sky. Above, grey clouds gathered, threatening to drench the ground in a downpour. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in the rain, but yesterday left him feeling drained, needing to escape the manse and his grandfather. And he wanted to check if there had been a change with the Mist since the latest Purge.

  A hint of smoke and burnt flesh still hung in the cold air as he opened the door and left the flyer. His overcoat flapped in the sudden gust of wind, sending the Mist ahead swirling through old buildings it had claimed years ago. He blinked. He could be wrong, but . . .

  Something felt different.

  Theo reached into the flyer and withdrew a small leather gas mask. His family invented the headpiece over a hundred years ago, using a special filter within the cylindrical metal sides to keep out the deadly spores. Divers, members of the Alchemy Society, and the bluecoats used the masks in order to enter the Mist.

  Five years ago, his father set up a handful of special gauges around Belhold to measure the Mist’s movement. It was always rising at a slow rate ever since the Plague Wars, but his father hadn’t trusted the Alchemy Society’s data and had chosen instead to acquire his own. After his parents passed away, Theo continued their research.

  The spores within the Mist had been engineered for the war and containment in the valleys, leaving the mountaintops and sky islands safe. Thinner air proved deadly to the spores, making it safe and easy to enter and exit the Mist without any need to worry about spores clinging to clothing or skin.