“Rudy,” she says, and her voice is quieter than what I’m used to. “Do you know how to fix Alix’s runes?”
“Theoretically, yes. But if I made the smallest mistake—”
“I’m willing to risk that,” I say firmly. I’ve already decided and I’m not changing my mind. “It’s my choice to make.”
Rudy throws his hands up. “I’m the one who might kill you, so I’d say some of it is my choice, too.”
“Look what happened because I didn’t know.”
Rudy tugs the silver scholar seal hanging around his neck, gaze darting around the room, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Karis steps closer to her brother. She squeezes his shoulder and he grins at her before piping up, “I think you should do it.”
Rudy stares at him. “Matt...”
“Rud,” Matthias says. “We owe him my life. And he’s right. This has to be his choice. I know you can do it.”
Rudy swallows, once, twice. Then he turns to me. “If you’re sure...”
Something quivers inside of me. I silence it. “I’m sure.”
“Right. I’ll just, um, fetch my tools, then.”
He leaves. I watch him go, trying to ignore the fears that are already creeping in. That he won’t be able to do it. That something will go wrong. This is my mind we’re talking about.
Rudy comes back, in what seems far too short a time, but when he gestures to my bed, I sit on the edge of it without comment. I don’t want my nerves to convince him that he doesn’t want to be doing this.
He unrolls his leather carrying case on the table beside my bed, revealing a line of bronze tools. I recognize most of them from the tools my father worked with. There’s a carving knife and a scraper, a broad scriber for the strokes and a finer one for the smaller details. I run my fingers over the destroyed runes on my arm one last time. After this I’ll remember everything about my father, and maybe that will finally be enough to dispel these doubts that won’t let me go.
Rudy selects a carving knife with runes etched into its metal blade. “I’ll need to engrave the runes deeper to correct them,” he says. “I have no idea if this will hurt.”
I look at Karis. I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s instinctive after all this time, that she’d be the person I’d look to for comfort.
Karis opens her mouth, and then closes it, looking miserable. She stares down at her feet.
I glance away. “I understand,” I say quietly.
Rudy leans in. His fingers explore the edge of the topmost rune. I clench my hands around my knees as Rudy delicately presses the knife to the rune. He takes in a measured breath and digs its tip in.
I go rigid. It’s the most terrible sensation I’ve ever felt, as if the knife is scraping against my seal’s flame, freezing me from the inside out.
Rudy stops.
“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “Keep going.” I can handle this.
I have to be able to handle this.
Rudy has gone pale but he does what I ask. Line by line, rune by rune. So cold it scalds. The world fuzzes around the edges as my thoughts blur into one another, like when I stood in front of the Scrivolia. Only this time maybe I won’t be lucky enough to wake up again. Maybe this time it will take something from me that I won’t be able to get back. I try to push the panic away, but it claws deeper into me. It’s too much. It’s not working. I open my mouth to tell Rudy to stop when a memory bursts across the surface of my mind.
I stand on a dark island, black waves crashing against pale rock. Tallis. The destroyed runes on my arm are numb, the chilled water I came out of sliding down my skin.
I look far off in the distance and see the lights of the magistrate’s ships, bright against the dark ocean. I stagger along the coast when I see an automaton in front of me, still and frozen. Exactly like all the automatons will now be frozen, because of what I did. I jerk back away from it, but my foot catches and I fall, hands scrabbling to regain purchase on the steep cliff side. My fingers catch on a crack and I see a cave in the cliff, just beneath me. The ships are drawing close. I swing inside.
In the dark I slide down the wall, clutching my hurt arm. The numb from it is already spreading, taking me over, sending me to sleep, and before I know it, I’m gone.
Another memory comes, from earlier, during my escape through the islands toward Tallis. Trudging across the ocean floor, the world murky and dark as it undulates around me. Climbing up each time a land mass shifts out of the water, hoping it will be a safe place to hide. The Script ink that I just took from the Heart blazes inside of me like fire. It’s bright and beautiful and terrifying.
Then back to that night in the Acropolis. I lock the Heart down and take the Script ink, as if I’m pulling a wondrous melody into my veins. I hear shouts and my father yells at me to run even as he falls, blood blooming through his robes like a crimson flower. I push through the soldiers when blinding pain runs down my arm. I look and see a line of destroyed runes that makes the world spin around me, but it doesn’t matter because I’m already climbing the stairs.
The memories slide back then to good ones. My father in his study, showing me a book on automaton structure and pointing out the way the movement runes work together. Us in the garden, tending a sickly tree. Us in my rooms, and in the dining hall, and in the study.
One final memory comes.
My father and I sit on the marble bench in the back of the garden, where we always let the plants grow a bit wild because we both liked it that way. The birds are out and I throw pieces of bread to them, marveling at the way their little bodies move, so quick and light as if they’re made of air. I need the distraction. Father’s words hang between us: the truth of how and why I was born. I don’t know what to think about any of it.
“Please talk to me,” my father finally says, in his soft, dusty voice. “You know you can say anything to me.”
I try to sort out my feelings, even though feeling anything is so new to me. “You made me for a reason, because Magistrate Reitas wanted you to.”
“Yes, I did. The Scriptwork on the Scrivolia is the most elaborate ever created. Even the greatest masters in our nation have failed to fully understand it. An automaton, though, someone who was part of the Script but who had a consciousness and who could think for themselves... That was the one being I believed would be able to work the runes on its surface and unlock it. Or lock it.”
Those words twist something inside of me. I wanted him to say it isn’t true, that he made me for me. I look down at the little birds who have strayed closer to my sandals, searching for bread, confusion and grief pounding inside of me like the heartbeat I don’t have. Before I can stop myself, I stomp my foot. The birds all take flight, scattering up into the sky in a flurry of wings. I watch them go, aching.
A hand settles onto my shoulder and I look into my father’s deep eyes.
“That’s why I made you, Alix, it’s true. Then you woke up and there was a fierce intelligence in your gaze that I wasn’t expecting. As I taught you, I discovered that you had likes and dislikes. That you love to sing and the runes sound like music to you. That you hate arithmetic. These are things that I didn’t give you, that your runes didn’t give you. They are things that you simply are. I’m ashamed now at my reasons for creating you, but at the same time I’m glad, because if I had never gotten that missive ordering me to create a key, I wouldn’t have you now.”
He places something in my hands. It’s a golden medallion, his sigil inscribed onto its surface. “You are my child, Alix. This is your life to live. I’m telling you all this now, because it is your choice. If you want to leave this place, you can. I’d go with you if I was able. If you want to stay for this, I will do everything in my power to prepare you for it. Whatever you choose to do with your life, know that I couldn’t be prouder to call you my son.”
H
e gets up and leaves. I rub my fingers over the medallion. My life to live. My choice. As I stare after my father’s retreating form, I know, somewhere deep inside of me, that I’ve already decided. I will destroy the Heart. For my father and for myself.
Hands clamp down on my shoulders and the memory dissolves. I blink and see Karis, her face tight with worry.
“Karis?” My voice comes out groggy.
She lets go and steps away, curling her hands into the folds of her chiton. “Your face went suddenly vacant. It scared us.”
The others are all huddled closer than they were before.
“Are you all right?” Rudy asks, looking sick.
Am I all right? I don’t know how to answer that question. My father made me to be a Script ink vessel, that’s true. He also loved me. He gave me runes, but he also wanted me to have my freedom.
“I remember it,” I whisper. “The time I spent with my father. When I locked the Heart and took the Script ink. When I ran and found that cave.” Until I opened my eyes. I saw Karis and everything changed.
I sink back into my pillow. I feel as if I’ve relived a life’s worth of sadness and happiness, joy and fear. Each memory is its own shard of light. “Well, I remember how to destroy the Heart.” My father had gone over the sequence of runes again and again, until I could recite it backward. I’d even already crafted the melody I would use. “Not that it matters now.”
Zara sighs, fiddling with the pendant back around her neck, its gold dark. “That’s true. I don’t see any way of scaling the Colossus. Not while it’s moving. Which it will be.”
I press my hand against my eyes. Everything—what I was made for, what I chose to do, what my father wanted for me—is all jumbled up in my head. I’d hoped that once my memories were back, I’d see some way through this. Only I don’t. My father had said that I could be anything that I wanted. Calantha had said that I needed to be what the world asked of me. I did what each of them had asked and it led all of us here.
I shake my head and look at Rudy. “Thank you for this.”
He nods. “Sorry I couldn’t fix the cracks.” He pauses. “Is that a broken rune on your shoulder, too?”
I glance down and see that my chiton has slipped. I rub the dent Zara gave me the first day I met her. It’s admittedly one of the strangest mementos of this journey. “Err, no.”
Zara grins. The expression is tired around the edges, but it’s there. “I might have shot him. But I still stand that it was justified.”
Rudy’s eyebrows go all the way up into his hairline.
Karis glances at my runes and her eyes light up. I recognize that look, which always seems to come before some foolhardy plan. Despite everything, a faint hope flickers inside of me. I could use some foolhardiness right now.
Dane must see it, too, because he says, “Karis, what is it?”
“Umm...” She looks around at the others, hesitating.
“Come on, Karis,” Zara says. “You made a mistake, but you’re still part of this crew, so out with whatever you wanted to say.”
“Well, what if we didn’t have to scale the Colossus?” she says. “What if we could just make it drop the Heart?”
“How would we do that?” Dane asks. “The thing’s a behemoth.”
Karis steps toward me, then seems to think better of it and stops. “They didn’t have things like guns when the automatons were built, so automatons were never built to withstand them. Look at what a bullet did to Alix.” She glances up toward the deck. “What do you think a cannonball would do to the Colossus?”
38
* * *
KARIS
We gather around the table in Zara’s quarters. A weathered map of the City of Scholars has been spread out on top of it, weighed down by stones on each of its corners. The different tiers are marked out, as well as the positions of all the automatons. Or at least where the automatons used to be. I’m sure the magistrate has woken up every single one he has a tome for, just like I’m sure he’s already started making tomes for the others. This isn’t going to be easy.
Good thing we’re not used to easy.
“All right,” Zara says. “Chances are the Colossus is still going to be stationed near the Acropolis.” She taps the map. “The magistrate isn’t as strong as he once was, so right now, he’ll no doubt be trying to shore up his powers again. Few things will do that as effectively as him towering the Colossus over all those who thought to oppose him. Unfortunately for us, there’s no way the Streak’s cannons will reach as far as the Acropolis. The only way we’re going to hit this thing is if we lure it to the docks.” She looks around at us. “Any ideas?”
We’re all silent. I hadn’t thought that far. Really, I hadn’t thought far at all. I’d just grabbed at the idea of the cannons because it seemed like there was a chance it would work. Then again, I thought my last plan would work, too, and look how that ended.
“I’m sure the magistrate still wants me,” Alix finally says. “So why don’t I be bait?”
Bait. I don’t like that idea. At all. But I force any of the words I might have said down. Even if he would listen to me, I don’t have the right anymore.
“We would still have to somehow get the magistrate’s attention,” Dane says.
“I’ll shut down one of the automatons,” Alix says. “Or as many automatons as I need to until the magistrate notices me.”
“Do you remember how to do that now?” Zara asks.
Alix nods. “My father taught me. I need to reverse the rune in the seal. I don’t think there’s any chance I’ll be able to reach the Colossus’s seal to shut it down, but I should be able to on the smaller ones. I can draw the ink out of them just like the Heart drew it out of me. If I am going to go through with this, I could use more Script ink than I have now.” He rubs his temple. He looks tired in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s one more guilt to pile up with the rest.
“So, Alix knows what he’ll be doing,” Zara says. “Karis and Dane, I’m guessing you want to go with him?”
I nod, bracing myself for Alix to reject my offer of help. But he doesn’t. Then again, he also doesn’t so much as look at me.
“I’ll keep as close to a skeleton crew on the Streak as I can,” Zara says. “The rest of my people, and any of Calantha’s rebels who are up to it, I’ll send into other parts of the city to cause as much trouble as they can. We’ll try to strip the magistrate of as many of his forces as possible.”
Alix nods. “Once we shut down the Heart, that should drain the Script ink from the tomes and the automatons. They’ll all shut down with it.”
“I’m going after the magistrate,” Matthias says.
I look over my shoulder at my brother. Unlike the rest of us, he leans against the wall, rubbing the end of the staff Rudy dug up for him. There’s a dangerous edge to his expression that’s all the Bandit.
“The magistrate won’t trust the Colossus’s tome to anyone else,” Matthias says. “That means he’ll have to stay close. If I get a chance, I’m taking it.”
“If you’re going, I’m going with you,” Rudy says.
Matthias flashes a grin.
“Well then, it sounds like everyone knows the plan,” Zara says. “We’ll drop everyone off who needs to be off at the closest safe house, the little ones and those too weak to join us. And then we’ll go back to Valitia, and finish what we started.”
* * *
By the time we reach Valitia again we’ve only been gone four days. And yet as the City of Scholars comes into view, my breath lodges like a stone in my throat.
A dozen automatons move about in the tiers, lumbering through the streets and in the lanes between the villas. For two hundred years, the automatons were stilled, and all we had left of them were frozen statues and stories. Terrible stories that I would have been happy to forget. Now, after all this time, their p
ower has returned. And we have to face it.
There are soldiers out, too, marching in rigidly straight lines. Even from here I can see they bear the black sash of the magistrate’s forces, each one a shadow against the white stone walls of the city.
And that’s it. There are no civilians. No scribes or acolytes or scholars. Besides the magistrate’s forces, the tiers are empty.
I tilt my head up to see the Colossus. It stands by the Acropolis, and even from this distance I can make out the glint of its lit runes. The Heart shines fiercely in its hands, as if it’s snatched the sun from the sky.
When I suggested robbing the Colossus of its prize before, it had seemed like a good idea. Why had it seemed like a good idea?
Aiken navigates the Streak away from the city, to a sheltered beach, before saluting Zara.
She steps toward the crowd that’s gathered on the deck, clasping her hands behind her back. She’s abandoned the chiton she wore in the city and is back to the same clothes I first saw her in, boldly patterned fabrics, her hat perched on her head. She looks wild and strong, every bit a pirate queen, born of brine and waves and sea. The sight of her raises goose bumps on my skin.
“Everyone, today is finally the day.” Zara’s voice is bold. “When we face the magistrate. When we face the Scriptorium. We all know what they’ve done to us and to ours. We all know how strong they are. How powerful.” A low ripple of voices crosses the deck as she looks over us all. “But know that we’re strong, too. That the power we have has nothing to do with misguided notions of control and force. It’s in who we are and what we’ve gone through. And that’s a strength the magistrate will never understand.
“Together we are fierceness. Together we are change. And no matter what happens today, know that I’m proud to be your captain and to call you my crew. This piece of history belongs to us, and it is ours to rewrite. So let’s not waste it.”
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