Crystal Keepers

by Brandon Mull

  She stepped out onto a balcony that surrounded the top of the tower. A final turret rose above it, with a steep conical room and a flag. A breeze that Cole hadn’t felt down below ruffled his hair, prompting him to pull his jacket tighter.

  Following Harmony and looking around, Cole found he was on the highest platform of the tallest tower in the First Castle. The buildings of the city seemed like tiny playthings from this lofty vantage. Looking outward, he could see a living map of hills and forests, rivers and plains.

  “What a view!” Cole exclaimed.

  She closed the door. “This is where I come to place my stars.”

  “How does that work?” Cole asked. “Are they illusions?”

  Harmony frowned upward. “Our entire sky is little more than an illusion. I’ve studied it for years, but I still fail to understand it. I believe we borrow the skies of other worlds.”

  “How can you borrow an entire sky?” Cole asked.

  “How is anything done here?” Harmony replied. “Shaping. From what I can tell, our world is unlike any other. Most worlds are spheres surrounded by vast reaches of space. The Outskirts mimic the sky of such a world, without having discernible spherical properties.”

  “This world isn’t round?” Cole asked.

  “Not that I can tell,” Harmony said. “I have come to this balcony every night for many years.”

  “It doesn’t seem very secretive,” Cole said, hoping he wasn’t giving offense. “Can’t half the castle see us?”

  “It would seem so,” Harmony said. “But no. If you look up from below, this balcony is not visible, let alone any people on it.”

  “Shaping?” Cole asked.

  “Very old and very powerful shaping,” Harmony said. “It takes great power to make shapings last in Junction.”

  “What if the High King comes up here?”

  Harmony laughed bitterly. “Stafford has his tower. I have mine. We haven’t lived in the same rooms since he staged the deaths of our daughters. He thinks I parted with him out of grief. In a way, I suppose I did. He still doesn’t know I helped the girls escape.”

  “Are the powers he took mostly gone now?” Cole asked.

  “By your account, he must have completely lost the abilities he stole from Honor and Miracle. It fits what I have sensed. His other stolen powers have significantly dwindled. The full extent of the atrophy is hard to pinpoint—it’s difficult to get a clear read on him. He has become increasingly reclusive. And ever more paranoid. These are bad times to earn my husband’s attention. His judgments are harsher than usual, and occasionally irrational.”

  “That’s no fun,” Cole said.

  “Not all of his fears are unfounded,” Harmony said. “Losing his powers does make him more vulnerable. Especially when he must deal with a truly sinister threat within the walls of his own castle.”

  “Owandell?” Cole asked.

  Harmony shivered. “Some refer to him as the Overseer. Bolder observers call him the Knave. Stafford has only himself to blame. He invited Owandell into his inner circle. The Knave introduced my husband to the possibilities offered by shapecraft. He helped Stafford in all of his schemes, including taking our daughters’ abilities. Over time, Stafford granted him greater political clout, much of it behind the scenes. Owandell moved from serving as an adviser and conspirator to personally controlling many important aspects of governance. By the time Stafford realized the danger, Owandell was in too strong a position to remove. His influence continued to grow without my husband’s help, and sometimes even directly against his wishes. The Knave now heads the Enforcers and his own enormous network of spies.”

  “Does he want to take over?” Cole asked.

  “There is no doubt in my mind,” Harmony said. “Stafford is far from an ideal king, but the Knave would be much worse. He is more ruthless, more cunning, and only he knows the limits of what he can accomplish with shapecraft.”

  “You want to help Stafford?” Cole asked.

  “Against the Knave? Yes, for the good of all, I would take Stafford over Owandell. It’s a delicate game. Aside from hiding my daughters, I have supported Stafford in every way. For their good and safety, I needed to stay close to him, and stay alive. But I am not my husband’s ally. I would gladly see him fall if it means putting one of my children on the throne. That day is what I have lived for.”

  “But the Knave is in the way,” Cole said.

  “I shouldn’t let you get accustomed to using that name,” Harmony apologized. “If the wrong ears hear you use it, you’d disappear. Stick to the Overseer. But, yes, he is in the way. I fear that nobody can save Stafford from him at this point.”

  “Should your daughters stay in hiding?”

  “If possible,” Harmony said. “I fear the days of hiding are past. Since the Knave has taken up the hunt, my daughters have been fending for their lives. It’s only a matter of time before he tracks them down, whether or not he sits on the throne.”

  “Then what should we do?” Cole asked.

  Harmony gave him a long stare. Her hand found his shoulder and rested there. The regret in her eyes made him uneasy.

  “I must ask a favor of you,” Harmony said.

  “What?”

  “I know of a secret meeting tomorrow,” Harmony said. “A gathering of elite Enforcers and expert spies. Owandell will conduct the meeting. He is on the brink of finally making his real bid for power. The signs are all there. The timing is right. This meeting could reveal much about his intentions.”

  “Wait,” Cole said. “What’s the favor?”

  She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You must attend the meeting in disguise.”

  Cole almost gagged. “Isn’t this the guy you were just warning me to stay away from? Including not using the wrong nickname?”

  “Everyone will be in disguise,” Harmony said. “The Knave can’t afford to let his top spies identify one another.”

  “Don’t you have your own spies?” Cole asked. “People with more experience?”

  “I did,” Harmony said. “Lately many have gone missing. None remain whom I can trust with this. I considered going myself, but my powers are unusual, and Owandell is familiar with them. He would almost certainly sense me.”

  “Aren’t my powers unusual?” Cole asked.

  “They are, but they are deeply scarred by shapecraft,” Harmony said. “Many of the Enforcers are shapecrafters who have tampered with their abilities. Some of them are even young like you. Unless Owandell pays you very special attention, you should blend in.”

  “And if I don’t blend?” Cole asked.

  Harmony released his shoulder. “Owandell will not be gentle. He will want information, and he will undoubtedly experiment on your unusual abilities, blocked or not. After much suffering, you would probably pay with your life.”

  “I get the feeling you’ve never worked in sales,” Cole said.

  “You deserve to know the truth,” Harmony said.

  “How did you find out about the meeting?” Cole wondered.

  Harmony’s lips bent toward a grin. “I sometimes see visions of the future. I can’t usually force or control them. This one was quite clear. Owandell would have no reason to suspect anyone could know about his gathering. I know where you should go, what invitation you should carry, and what costume you should wear. All can be arranged. If you stay calm and hold your tongue, you should succeed.”

  “Why do I need to go if you already saw a vision?” Cole asked.

  “I heard nothing,” Harmony explained. “But I saw the meeting vividly, lit by torches and candles deep below the castle, near the Founding Stone. I can provide instructions.”

  “What about everybody else if I blow it?” Cole said. “What about Constance and Miracle? What about my friends who were kidnapped?”

  “If you get caught, you don’t kn
ow enough to cause my daughters serious harm. But don’t get caught.”

  “I need to know this is worth it,” Cole said. “I want to help Mira. I want to help my enslaved friends. I need to know you’ll tell me how to find Constance.”

  Harmony regarded Cole somberly. “I have left Constance where she is for a reason. Abram Trench knows her value, and will protect her from both Stafford and Owandell. But with her powers unstable, who knows how else he might try to use her? And considering the showdown that I expect between Stafford and Owandell, who knows how long Abram can keep her safe? Should Owandell rise to power, after he disposes of Stafford and me, his next target will be the Grand Shaper of Zeropolis.”

  “So you’ll tell me how to find Constance?” Cole asked.

  Harmony nodded. “I am out of trusted messengers. If you fulfill this assignment for me, I will tell you the exact location of Abram’s secret base where Constance is being held, and I will help you secure passage back to Zeropolis. Furthermore, if I can remain in power, I will see to it that all of your friends who were taken from Earth with you are found and restored to their freedom.”

  For a moment Cole was speechless. “It’s more than I could have hoped,” he finally managed.

  “Before I can help your friends, I’ll need to survive the upcoming coup attempt by Owandell. Given the recent activities of the Knave and his shapecrafters, I’m not sure how much longer my reign will last.”

  “It’s good enough to know you’ll help if you can,” Cole said. “Is there any chance of us getting home and staying there?”

  “I know of no way,” Harmony said. “My abilities combine some aspects of the shaping found in Necronum, Creon, and Elloweer. I have studied the physical aspects of the Outskirts my whole life, and have found no way for those who come here to permanently return to any of the outside worlds. It would require changing how this world connects to the others.”

  Cole didn’t like her answer. It reinforced what so many others had told him—that getting home would be difficult, if not impossible. “Could I ask one more favor?”

  “You may ask,” Harmony said.

  “One of the friends I lost is named Jenna Hunt,” Cole said. “She came here after she was taken, but I don’t know where she was sent as a slave. Could you find out?”

  “One does not ordinarily bargain with royalty,” Harmony said. “But if you help me, I will try. Does this mean you will infiltrate the meeting?”

  Cole braced himself. “Yes.” The word was easy to say, but he knew the commitment would lead to lots of stress and danger. “Queen Harmony, you said you don’t have trusted servants to send. Why trust me?”

  “One of my talents is reading people,” she said. “Not just mannerisms and intonations. I can see more deeply than most. Some people are easier to read than others. Parts of you are crystal clear. Everything you told me about helping my daughters was true. Your desire to help your friends is sincere. More than any current servant I can name, I know you’re on my side.”

  “You really lucked out,” Cole said. “A kid with messed-up powers.”

  “No,” Harmony said gravely. “A young hero who has survived much hardship. I’ll be honored to include you among my private errand boys. I will not see you again until after the gathering. Sophie will take care of the details. Watch for my instructions tomorrow afternoon.”

  CHAPTER

  26

  SIDETRACKED

  Within an hour of his arrival, none of the other royal errand boys would so much as smile at Cole, no matter how friendly he acted. It did not take long for him to figure out that these boys had spent their lives working smart and hard to earn their positions, and they had no respect for a kid who showed up out of nowhere.

  Cole hadn’t tried to make up a history for himself. The more fake details he gave, the more he would set himself up to get caught in a lie. He just mysteriously told the boys who asked that he had connections. At first some seemed to think he might belong to a powerful family, but when he refused to tell where he was from or reveal anything about his background, they soon lost interest.

  The errand boys serving the king and queen shared a mess hall but had separate sleeping quarters. The king had about fifty boys, the queen thirty. At first the high numbers had surprised Cole, until he considered how many messages a king and queen might have to send while governing a kingdom. This wasn’t Zeropolis. They didn’t have communicators.

  During the first day among them, Cole eavesdropped as best he could. He heard some of the boys griping that they weren’t used as much lately because of all the secret messages being delivered by soldiers or other agents. A few of the boys expressed uneasiness about working directly with the High King, since his moods had apparently been unpredictable lately.

  Nobody sat with Cole at dinner. That was fine with him. He only expected to be an errand boy for a day or two, and then he would flee Junction with highly sensitive information. The less people who noticed him the better.

  The next day the Chief Boy summoned Cole to his room. After receiving a brief orientation from the Chief Boy the day before, Cole still didn’t know his name.

  The Chief Boy had to be almost fifteen. He was tall and stuffy-looking with a prominent nose and watery, unimpressed eyes. Cole figured that on his next birthday, the kid would have to find a new job.

  “I found out about you,” the Chief Boy said.

  A sharp stab of worry pierced Cole. “What do you mean?”

  “Your arrival smelled funny. We had orders to add you to our ranks on short notice and without the proper references. Now I understand. You were brought in to deliver a particular message.”

  “Maybe,” Cole said, relieved that the kid seemed not to know the whole truth.

  “I’m not trying to discover the message. That goes against all we stand for as errand boys. This sort of arrangement happens on occasion. Sometimes the nature of a particular message calls for a certain hand to deliver it.”

  “That’s the idea,” Cole said. “I’m Rod, by the way.” It was the alias agreed upon with Queen Harmony.

  “Harold,” the boy said. “You can’t imagine how thrilled I am to babysit you. I’m told this message will be relayed in the dark of night. I’ll show you what door to use. The late-night messages usually deal with romantic matters, but it isn’t my place to speculate.” His intonation suggested he wanted Cole’s opinion.

  “I don’t know either,” Cole said.

  Harold rolled his eyes. “Formally we never know anything,” he said. “But it doesn’t take too many clues to make guesses.”

  “I’ll watch for clues,” Cole said. “Is that all?”

  “One more matter,” Harold said. “I report to the king. All errand boys owe their ultimate loyalty to him. I informed him about you and your errand, and he would like to meet with you before you carry out your assignment.”

  Cole went rigid. “Isn’t this a matter for him and the queen to talk about?”

  “The king seldom interacts with her directly,” Harold said. “But he likes to learn what he can. He has been extra cautious lately. He specifically asked for word of any suspicious messages. That includes suspicious messengers.”

  “I’m just doing a job,” Cole said.

  “A job for the queen,” Harold said. “I must ask you to come with me.”

  “Now?” Cole asked.

  “The king thought it wise to leave you without time to prepare yourself,” Harold said. “Will you come willingly, or should I summon the guards?”

  “I’ll come,” Cole said.

  Harold stood. “This way.”

  Cole followed him out of the room. As they left the errand-boy quarters and moved through the castle halls, Cole considered making a run for it. But how would he get away from Harold and the guards who chased him? And even if he gave them the slip, how would he attend the meeting
tonight? People might have suspicions about him, but nobody really knew anything yet. Running would just make him look guilty.

  They passed several guards. Everyone seemed to know Harold and let him pass without question. Finally they went through an iron door into a tower. A pair of large guards confronted them in an opulent room.

  “His Majesty expects to interview this boy,” Harold said.

  “Very well,” one of the guards responded. He proceeded to thoroughly pat down Cole, checking his coat and pockets, probing into his shoes, and feeling his arms and legs. “You’re boring.”

  “Thank you?” Cole responded.

  “A good trait under the circumstances,” the guard said. “Come with me.”

  Harold and the other guard stayed behind as Cole was led up a flight of stairs and through a door. Inside he found the High King pacing, a crown on his head and a scowl on his face.

  Cole had seen an imitation of Stafford when they fought Carnag, and also at the Lost Palace. A man of average height, his dark, neatly trimmed hair had more gray in it than Cole recalled. His face was different in subtle ways—the cheeks more hollow, the eyes shadowed and slightly bloodshot, the skin grayer. His clothes, though fine, had a rumpled look, as if he might have spent the night in them.

  “The new errand boy?” Stafford asked, sizing up Cole.

  “Yes,” the guard replied. “Would you like me to remain?”

  “Linger outside the door,” Stafford said.

  The guard immediately exited and shut the door. Cole waited in silence, watching Stafford in disbelief. There he was. Mira’s father. The man who made slavery legal in the Outskirts. The man who had stolen his daughters’ powers and staged their deaths. The man who had bought so many of his friends. The man who planned to experiment on some or all of those friends using shapecraft. The man the resistance sought to overthrow.

  “Tell me your name,” Stafford said, in a dry, no-nonsense voice.