Secrets in the Mist

by Morgan L. Busse

  A cool mist hung over Belhold that morning, leaving the university blanketed in fog. The gaslights around the classroom flickered, then brightened the dim room.

  Condensation collected across the windows like raindrops. Books filled the bookcases that stood on either side of the long blackboard, each book perfectly placed and not a hint of dust to be found.

  Other than his family’s private lab back at the Winchester manse, this was Theo’s favorite place. A place filled with learning, wisdom, and silence. Usually.

  At that moment William Staggs walked in with a handful of young men, all of them clamoring around the Staggs heir. His sandy blond hair hung in loose curls around his face, and his hazel eyes twinkled in the gaslight.

  Theo watched William cross the room to the desks on the other side. He was a celebrity here, and the students his admirers. Even as a young boy, William always attracted people around him like a bees to a flower. His combination of wealth, prestige as a successor to one of the Five Families, and charming charisma made him stand apart from those around him. And not only did he thrive on the attention, he was a master at manipulating it.

  Which was probably why the two of them never got along. Theo had no desire to stand out. It got in the way of his books and research. And unlike William’s dazzling personality, Theo was bluntly honest, and that sometimes got him into trouble.

  Professor Hawkins called the room to attention.

  The professor began his lecture on the beginnings of the Plague Wars, and Theo quietly pulled his journal out of his valise and placed it on the desk along with his fountain pen. He already knew this history from his own research, so he opened the journal instead.

  Inside were his recent findings and drawings, specifically, what he discovered the couple of days before. He tapped the blunt end of the pen against the page and ran a hand through his dark hair. The world was always changing. What made the House of Lords and Alchemy Society think the Mist would always stay the same?

  An hour later, Professor Hawkins concluded his lecture, then assigned more reading along with an essay to be turned in the next day. There were groans, followed by the scraping of chairs across the wooden floor. Theo’s next class didn’t start until that afternoon, and Professor Hawkins was free until one, so he had the perfect opportunity to relate to the professor his findings.

  A few students hung back to ask some questions while the rest filed out into the long hallway. Theo stayed where he was, still sitting at his desk with his journal open and pen in hand, taking a few more notes while he waited for the room to clear. The fog outside began to dissipate, and sunlight peeked through the clouds, leaving a small patch of light across the wooden floor.

  As the last student left, Theo stood and gathered his things.

  “Master Theo,” Professor Hawkins said as he picked up a stack of papers. “I assume you desire to speak with me.”

  “Yes, Professor.”

  “Is this about what I think it is?”

  “Yes, Professor.”

  The older man let out a long sigh. “Very well, follow me to my office.”

  Theo picked up his leather valise and followed. Professor Hawkins was inches smaller than he, and Theo looked over the top of the older man’s head as they walked through the long corridor of the university. They passed multiple classrooms where lectures and demonstrations were commencing in order to prepare the next generation to oversee the world.

  At the end of the corridor, Professor Hawkins opened the door on the left and started for the building across a small garden grown for use in the science labs. The building had only a handful of classrooms and small offices for the faculty’s personal use.

  Inside, at the third door on the right, Professor Hawkins removed a ring of keys and fitted a bronze one into the keyhole. There was a click, then he opened the door and held it for Theo.

  “Thank you,” Theo said as he entered.

  Professor Hawkins merely nodded.

  Once they both were inside, Professor Hawkins closed the door behind him, then took a seat behind his massive oak desk, which stood in front of a wide window. A hint of pipe smoke hung in the air, mixing with the scent of old tomes and dust. Books lined either side of the room, and a worn rug lay between the door and the desk.

  “What is it you wanted to talk to me about, Master Theo?” Professor Hawkins placed his hands along the top of the desk. There was a guarded look on his wizened face.

  “I’ve been working again on my studies of the Mist.”

  The thick, white eyebrows turned down. “Why do you jeopardize your standing with the university with your continual and, might I add, unauthorized research?”

  “Because I want to know. Isn’t that what science is about? The search for the unknown?”

  Professor Hawkins sat back. “Theo, Theo,” he said as he shook his head. “You are one of the brightest young men I have ever had the privilege of teaching. Perhaps the brightest. But you are also naïve. There is more to science than learning. You must also consider the politics, the atmosphere of the people around you, and think about the consequences the knowledge you discover would have on the population.”

  Theo tensed. Yes, he was young—just twenty. But how could wanting to know more be a bad thing? Especially when it could help people? “Even so, I have discovered some items of note concerning the Mist over the last week that I think you should know about.” He reached into his valise and pulled out his journal. “I believe”—he looked up—“the Mist is rising.”

  Professor Hawkins narrowed his eyes. “The Mist is always rising.”

  Theo laid his journal out on the desk. “I’ve shared with you before about the wooden gauges my father put up to measure the Mist. Yes, the Mist is always rising, but only in small increments. For the last two years, I’ve been recording any changes. This week, for the first time ever, the gauges were submerged within the Mist at least a good ten feet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Theo pointed to the crude map he had drawn of the border of Belhold. “These dots indicate where my father placed the wooden stakes to measure any movement of the Mist. The Mist always rises a couple inches each month. But when I went to check on them this week, they were inside the Mist. I studied the area around each gauge to see if perhaps the landscape had changed, the gauges had been tampered with, or any other reason for the movement. I found nothing, other than every single one was inside the Mist. That means the Mist rose at least ten feet within the span of a month. My next plan is to study the Mist itself and see if it has changed. What is causing this new growth? Is it adapting to a higher elevation? What does this mean for all of us?”

  Professor Hawkins furrowed his eyebrows. “This is concerning.” He traced the air above the journal with a creased finger, then looked up. “But I am more concerned about you.”

  “What?”

  “This obsession of yours with the Mist. What does your grandfather say about all of this?”

  Theo ran a hand along the back of his neck. “He doesn’t know.”

  Professor Hawkins straightened up and nodded as if he had expected the response.

  Theo felt emboldened. “If I may be so blunt, why hasn’t something been done about the Mist? I know my father studied it as well, searching for a way to eradicate it. We can’t be the only two. And yet it’s still here, with all the resources and intellect Belhold and other cities possess. Why? What is stopping the Alchemy Society and others from doing something about it?”

  Professor Hawkins sighed and spread his fingers along the top of his desk near the open journal. “Because,” he said slowly, “those who do end up dead.” He looked up. “Master Theo, take my advice and let things be. This is the way things are.”

  “The way things are?” Theo’s voice rose. “Right now, there is barely any room for the growing population, and it’s not just in Belhold. Food shortages are already starting, and that will lead to riots and violence. As leaders of this world and as scientists, it is o
ur duty to help. If the Mist could be eradicated, we would no longer have to live on the mountaintops or in the sky. There would be room again, room for people to live, room for growing crops, room to spread out. There wouldn’t be a need for any Purges—”

  Professor Hawkins flew to his feet. “Enough!” His hand came down hard on the desk with a resounding slap.

  Theo took a step back. He’d never seen Professor Hawkins lose his composure before.

  “Master Theo, please.” Professor Hawkins looked around the room as if fearing they would be overheard.

  Theo frowned. Who would be listening? And why would they care?

  The professor’s eyes went back to Theo. “There is nothing you can do. This is the way the world exists now. Do you understand me?”

  Theo wanted to say no. In fact, the word was forming on his tongue, but the look on his professor’s face quieted him. “I understand.” He understood all too clearly. No one wanted to talk or do anything about it. And he doubted Professor Hawkins was going to tell him why. “Thank you for taking the time to see me,” he said with a short bow.

  “You have a bright future ahead of you, Master Theo. With your family’s prestige and seats of honor both in the House of Lords and Alchemy Society, there is nothing you’ll be lacking for the rest of your life. Both you and your sister. Don’t do anything to jeopardize that. I’d hate to see the life of such a promising young man wasted.”

  Theo picked up his journal and closed it. “I won’t waste my life, that I can promise you.” He bowed again and left the professor’s office before Professor Hawkins could say anything more.

  Instead of having answers and an ally, he left with more questions and a deeper sense of loneliness. Something was going on. Maybe he should ask his grandfather.

  He walked down the long hallway toward his next class. No, not Grandfather. If his grandfather knew Theo was continuing with his father’s work, he would be livid. His only real hope had been Professor Hawkins, but the professor was obviously afraid of something that overrode his usual aspiration for knowledge. Which in itself was puzzling.

  Marble floors glimmered under the gaslights, and conversation from classrooms echoed through the corridor.

  Theo readjusted his hold on his valise as he headed back to the main university building. Should he stop his inquiries? He didn’t want anything to happen that would forfeit Adora’s chances at a good life. Maybe he should take Professor Hawkins’s advice and let things be.

  No, for as long as he could remember, he was always chasing after the truth. Books, knowledge, experiments, and theories. And exploration when his grandfather wasn’t looking.

  He craved truth. And if it helped others, even better.

  But perhaps he could still keep his word to Professor Hawkins. He wouldn’t jeopardize his life. After all, he couldn’t pursue the truth if he died. But he wouldn’t stop his studies. There had to be a solution to all this, and if others weren’t going to seek answers, then he would.

  Theo spent the month collecting everything he could on the subject. In that short amount of time, the Mist rose another five feet. After recording his observations, he emerged from the Mist and headed for the nearest building. He sat down on the grass, pulled the gas mask from his face, and wiped the sweat that had collected across his forehead.

  Nearby, a handful of children played in a patch of dirt, their faces and hands almost the same color as the soil. They hadn’t noticed him yet, but if he stayed any longer, someone was bound to see him. He watched them for a second, his heart constricting inside his chest. The Mist was almost to their doorsteps. If it continued, there would be another Purge. Or their homes would be covered.

  He bowed his head. Elaeros, what can I do? Is there more?

  Theo put the gas mask away inside his leather bag. If only he had the freedom to do his research in the open, it would give him more time. No hiding, no worries about someone seeing him and getting word back to the Alchemy Society. Or his grandfather. He purposefully wore old, tattered clothing and kept his microscope and journal in a worn leather bag. Yet only bluecoats and divers wore the gas masks, something he needed to access the gauges and study the spores in the Mist.

  One of the children looked up at him.

  Time to go.

  Theo struggled to his feet, pulled the collar of his coat up around his ears, and headed off. His zipper was waiting at a landing platform over a mile away, which meant a long climb through the slums. The sky overhead was a shade lighter than the Mist behind him. One raindrop fell across his cheek, then another. Moments later, a downpour began.

  He shoved his valise into his coat and pulled the fabric close around the notes and equipment. Within a minute, the dirt road became a slick, muddy trail with the muck clinging to his boots and making its way up his trousers and overcoat. He slowed so as not to risk slipping on the street. His nose grew cold, and his fingers numb in the chilly rain. The houses around him appeared even drearier in the downpour, and for a moment, he wondered just how waterproof they could possibly be when he could see gaps between the boards with his own eyes.

  Would anyone care when the Mist rose and covered these slums? Probably not. It would certainly save them the trouble of a Purge.

  He finally reached the zipper, pulled back the canvas covering, and placed his leather valise in the back before climbing into the front. He would need to have the vehicle wiped down when he arrived at the manse.

  The key turned with a click, and the motor started, sending the wings on either side whizzing. Theo lowered the goggles over his face and eased up on the clutch. The zipper lifted up from the platform, and he steered it north toward the top of Belhold.

  The rain had lightened to dewy rivulets along his windshield. Ten minutes later, the small sky island—home of the Winchester manse—appeared, hovering above the city of Belhold.

  As he approached, he brought the zipper around to the west side where a platform stood.

  Arthur came running from the garage with a rag in hand. “Master Theo.”

  “Arthur, perfect timing. I need the zipper wiped down and covered.”

  “Yes, sir,” the older man replied. His mustache twitched at the sight of the mud splotches across Theo’s coat and boots, but he didn’t say a word. He was one of the few allies Theo had in the Winchester household, and for that, he was grateful.

  Theo grabbed his valise from the backseat and started for the manse. A heaviness hung over him. He had enough evidence to prove without a doubt that the Mist was rising and it was time to tell others. But who would listen? Maybe he should go to the Alchemy Society himself.

  Theo pushed open the door and stopped in the foyer. He would need to remove his muddy garments before Hannah caught him.

  He’d taken off the boots when there was a harsh cough from the drawing room. He knew that sound. It had been a constant companion of his ever since he was a child. The disapproval of his grandfather.

  “Theo.”

  Theo spotted his grandfather sitting in one of the recently upholstered chairs inside the study, legs crossed, hands folded. A single gas lamp had been lit, casting most of the room in the dreary shadows of an afternoon rain.

  Theo’s mouth pursed. This was one discussion he did not want to have.

  He slowly pulled off his coat.

  His earliest memories of his grandfather were in their private laboratory, his grandfather’s hair pulled back, a special set of spectacles with three different lenses secured by leather straps, a white button-up shirt, and a leather apron and gloves. His grandfather specialized in alchemy, the turning of one substance into another by means of chemical processes. He also concentrated on inventions as well as experimentation. His grandfather always had one project or another brewing inside the laboratory while Theo’s father and mother would be at the workstation on the other end, creating a variety of new mechanisms and machinery.

  But when his parents died, it was like they took his grandfather’s heart and soul with them, le
aving behind only the cold husk of a once-vibrant man.

  Crispin Winchester was a stately man, with long white hair, a full white beard that covered his face and jaw, and a set of silver spectacles perched on an aristocratic nose. Dark brown eyes peered over the eyewear at Theo as he entered. “Where have you been?”

  “I was out.”

  The eyes glared. “I know. Where?”

  “I went to the dead zone.”

  “After I specifically told you to stay away from the Mist?” His voice was hard.

  Theo’s bubble of frustration burst. “No one else is doing anything about it! I think we have the power and means to find an answer, and yet you and all of the rest of the Families do nothing except Purge when the population grows too big to manage, or when we need more room for crops, or for a bigger house—”

  “Enough!” His grandfather shot to his feet. Even in his old age, his grandfather was still an imposing figure. “I told you knowledge can be deadly, but you still go right in, head first, just like your father!”

  “At least my father was doing something!” Theo retorted.

  “And look where that got him!”

  Theo started. “Are you saying the zipper accident was no accident?”

  His grandfather’s nostrils flared. “I’m saying those who look into the Mist die young.”

  Theo started at the familiar words.

  A long finger pointed at him. “So you will stay away from the dead zone. If you don’t, not only will I remove your name from my will, I will ban you from our manse, including our lab.”

  Theo took a step back in shock. Was his grandfather really threatening to disown him? “Please, Grandfather, listen. I found something. Something important, something you need to hear—”

  “That is enough, Theo—!” His grandfather bent over with a cry, clutching his chest.

  “Grandfather?”

  The older man fell to the floor, struggling for breath.

  Theo dropped to his knees and placed a hand on his grandfather’s arm. “Hannah! Arthur!” he shouted. “Somebody! I need help!”