It will mean using a lot of cagic, which suddenly seems very precious, but reminding the Great Drae that I’m here will be worth it. Besides, I should move the Colossi anyway. They shouldn’t stay in the dirt.
I named them all long ago: Winch, Nibby, Goliah and Sevensy, and I walk over to Winch first for he sits directly below Drae Devorla’s workshop windows.
“It’s good to see you,” I say softly, running my hand down his giant forearm, across hinged metal, leafy vines, and orderly lines of rivets. I briefly wonder what I’d be doing if I was still on the Grimshore. We’d probably be in the cave shelter by now, with Clicks neatly arranging our pitiful bedding and Fedorie bullying us into eating one last meal. As for Kary and me, we’d be checking the sealed entrance. I’d use a large shimmerlight wedge to tamp down any loose boulders, and because summoning that much energy temporarily blinds me, Kary would be my guide.
He was always the best shimmerlight assistant. Fedorie shouts too much, and Clicks is easily distracted. Kary, though, would rest his hand lightly on my elbow and patiently describe exactly how I should move each energy shape.
I wish I had his help now.
Instead, alone, I step back to get a good sense of Winch’s long arms and legs, massive torso, and little head. Then I shake my hands—sending cagic dust glittering through the air—and I focus. Moving something this large takes effort.
I first pour energy into the small opening on Winch’s chest, and as cagic fills the cavity in his torso, I reshape it with my thoughts, lengthening it into a crude skeleton.
My eyesight soon weakens, and a dark, blurry shadow seems to fall across the Courtyard of Youth.
I’m loosely aware of curious Shimmerlings gathering around me, but I don’t pay attention to them—I concentrate on Winch.
When he’s completely full of cagic and the energy’s gleaming through his joints and glittering out of his glass eyes—I raise my arms and use his shimmerlight core to lift him out of the dirt and flowers.
His bolts grind and squeal as I coax him onto his feet. Vines also snap and leaves flutter down, but he’s soon upright. Even though my vision is hazy, I think he looks much more impressive standing than he did sitting. He’s taller than all the courtyard buildings, even the two-story library.
Drae Devorla found my metal giants in a storage room belonging to the long dead, Drae Myssariel. Drae Devorla thought the old Drae commissioned Kaverlee’s tinker guild to build these huge, metal puppets, and she suspected Shimmerlings once fought nocturnes with them. It’s an interesting theory, but I can’t imagine anyone making the Colossi move quickly enough to be useful.
I long to glance at the workshop windows to see if Drae Devorla is watching me, but of course I must stay focused on Winch. I make him take several shuddering steps, and then I have him tug off the plants that still wind around his arms and legs. After that, I make him wave at me.
I wave back as if he’s really alive—as if we’re truly long-lost friends reunited.
Then carefully, making sure he doesn’t crush anyone or anything, I guide Winch over to my temporary home, the green Shimmerfade Cottage. Each of his grinding, thudding steps shakes the courtyard, and although I can’t see much, I hear Shimmerlings ooo and aaah. A few of them even clap, which warms my heart.
“Who are you?” a young girl asks.
I wouldn’t have known what to say yesterday, but the answer blazes through me now. “I’m Xylia Amoreah Selvantez, the true Predrae of Kaverlee.”
3
The Great Drae
I’m moving a second Colossus, Sevensy, when a young, filmy voice says, “Good moonlight, Xylia. The Great Drae would like to speak with you.”
Wonderful. My performance did exactly what I hoped it would.
I carefully seat Sevensy on the lawn and then wait for my vision to clear. Once it does, I realize that it was a Shimmerling who spoke to me, not a Maternal. At first it seems odd that someone so young would bring me such an important message, but then I understand—this girl is no ordinary Shimmerling.
“You’re her, aren’t you?” I say. “The new Predrae.”
She nods and blinks slowly as if she just woke up. “I’m glad you returned home safely.” She eyes Sevensy. “I’ve never seen anyone move those metal men before. Perhaps you could teach me how to do that?”
“Perhaps,” I say.
I expected Tah Roli Miri to be pretty or at least intimidating. But no, she seems timid and otherwise unremarkable with red-rimmed eyes and thin, drooping hair. And even though she’s wearing an impeccably tailored stola, it’s a dreary moss color with far too much black trim.
I suppose I should be relieved. With the Great Drae comparing me to someone underwhelming, hopefully it will be easier to impress her. And yet, it also stings that Drae Devorla felt this wispy girl could be my replacement.
“Do you remember the way to Her Imbued Eminence's apartments?” Tah Roli Miri asks as if she’s not quite certain herself.
“Of course I do,” I say, and then I set off across the lawn. Merciful light, I could find Drae Devorla’s chambers if I were cagic-blind; follow the long corridor beneath the Maternals’ dorm, climb the stairs lined with statues of former Great Draes, and finally pass beneath the bookshelf archway. I navigate the familiar route with ease, and soon I’m standing before doors with golden owleck handles—the entrance to Drae Devorla’s chambers.
There, I hesitate.
I feel like I did seven years ago when a calm ferry trip suddenly became confusing, wet chaos—my future hinges on what happens next.
Taking a deep breath and reminding myself that Drae Devorla cherished me once so a part of her surely still must, I open the doors and step inside.
Oh, how I’ve missed this place. Her workshop is still full of intricate contraptions, partially built machines, and plenty of cagic reservoir tanks—some in use, others in various states of repair. There are also shelves lined with tools and spare parts, as well as four large worktables crowded with smaller projects. I hear the familiar tick, tick, tick of machinery, and the air has a satisfying, oily smell.
Drae Devorla isn’t like Kaverlee’s past Great Draes or the Conduits from other citylands. She doesn’t simply replenish and manage our energy supply. Instead, she tirelessly searches for ways to make our lives easier and safer.
Because of her hard work, the cagically charged barriers that protect Kaverlee City during the Dark Month are three times more efficient than they used to be, power reservoirs can hold more concentrated cagic, and she’s made countless improvements to essential machines like chariots, heaters, cooking units, and scrubbers.
Yet where is Drae Devorla?
I circle the large room and finally find her working beneath what seems to be a subswimmer—a boat able to travel underwater.
“Your Imbued Eminence?” I call. “It’s me, Xylia.”
“Why of course it’s you,” she says, her voice muffled. She then wriggles out to greet me, and like her workshop, she’s hardly changed. She has her frizzy, gray hair tied in a lopsided knot, she wears tinted safety-goggles, and she’s holding a hammer in one gloved hand and a whirl-crank in the other. To my delight, she immediately embraces me and says, “You’re alive! I was so happy to hear it! So very happy!”
“Did you look for me?” I say as she lets go, wishing it didn’t sound like an accusation.
“Of course, I did.” She pulls back her goggles and unbuckles her leather work apron. “I’m also sorry I didn’t welcome you home sooner. You wouldn’t believe how many fuses I had to replace this month, and each time I fixed an energy projector, the lens cracked in another. It was maddening.”
I smile. Those projectors infuriated her seven years ago too.
“Follow me. I need a break, and I want to hear about your adventures… or perhaps I should say, misadventures?” Drae Devorla leads me to the sun chamber, another room I know well. Located in the Sabeline Tower, it’s a room where previous Great Draes entertained important gues
ts. Paintings of waterfalls and lush gardens still hang on the walls, and a decorative window faces east, surely to showcase the sunrise days. Now, though, the sky is a deep, dusty blue. The sun has almost set.
The rest of the room is not very elegant, though. Because Drae Devorla values function over beauty, she’s shoved all the original furniture—fine chairs and expensive tables—over to one wall and filled the space back up with storage chests, bookshelves, and a large drafting table buried in design sketches and hand-written notes.
After casually sending a few spheres of cagic energy into a wall-mounted donation port, Drae Devorla settles herself into a well-worn, leather chair, gestures at another chair, and looks at me expectantly. “So, Xylia, here you are. Trunks washed up in Ganorine, you know, but that’s all we ever found of the Inlet Ferry. Please, tell me everything.”
I try, yet my eagerness to ask about my Predrae status burns brightly in my thoughts, distracting me. I usually consider myself a good storyteller—at least Clicks says I am—but today there might as well be pebbles in my mouth. I forget to mention the most interesting parts of my story; like how Fedorie rowed us to safety with only one oar, or how we lost a sailor during the first Dark Month, and I often backtrack and repeat myself. I worry that I’m not making sense, and when I mention that Kary’s from Matreornan and that he needs land justification paperwork, I catch the Great Drae eyeing a clock on the wall.
Merciful light, am I boring her?
After I finish my garbled account of surviving on the Grimshore, Drae Devorla assumes I’d like to hear about Kaverlee’s past seven years.
I clench my jaw impatiently while she explains how King What’s-his-name from Priffa died of a lung infection and that she’s still having setbacks inventing a flying machine and how she’d like to make the Expansion District even larger. But when she starts outlining her plans for Kaverlee’s underground power lines, I can’t bear it anymore.
“Please,” I interrupt, feeling suddenly very small. “May I be the Predrae again? All this time, I thought I was your apprentice.”
Drae Devorla’s expression becomes complicated. There’s so much remorse and pity in it that I’m already devastated before she says, “I am afraid, dear Xylia, we selected a new Predrae.”
“But you could change that,” I say, hurt sharpening my words.
At least Drae Devorla doesn’t insult me by pretending that isn’t true. For although traditionally Kaverlee’s Queen selects the Predrae, everyone knows it’s the Great Drae who really chooses her apprentice. And of course, it should be her decision—a Predrae needs to be powerful, for one day she’ll become a Great Drae who must manage all the energy in Kaverlee City and its surrounding lands.
“If you were significantly stronger than Tah Roli Miri, I’d step in,” Drae Devorla says. “But… that’s not the case.”
Panic knots in my stomach, and I slide forward in my chair. “But Tah Roli Miri can’t control cagic like I can. The Colossi were abandoned; I saw them. She obviously can’t move them.”
“You’re right; she can’t control the Colossi,” Drae Devorla admits, eyeing the gray and gold tiles on the floor. “But she can do other things—things you can’t.”
“What things?” I say, my voice rising. “I can do many things. I moved some very big rocks on the Grimshore—”
“Hush, Xylia.” The Great Drae holds up her hand. “I asked you here to discuss what will happen to you next—not argue about a decision I made years ago.”
Next? I want to be the Predrae. How can she ask me to consider a different future? I’ve expected to be the next Great Drae ever since I was five years old.
“You’ll wink out in a couple years,” Drae Devorla says in a languid, relaxed way. “Then you’ll have many options.”
Just hearing the words “wink out” makes me feel sick. Waiting for my power to vanish will be like waiting for death.
And all that time, I’ll have to keep donating cagic to the cityland—giving away the precious energy I have left. “I don’t want to wink out,” I say.
“No Shimmerling does.” Drae Devorla leans back in her leather chair, rubbing her temples. “But at least in the meantime, you can relax and enjoy the Courtyard of Youth. I’m sure it’s much nicer than the island you were trapped on.”
I stand up because this feels like a conversation I should be on my feet for. The thought of being no better than any other Shimmerling—and eventually not even being that anymore—clamors painfully through me. I need to say something clever, something impossible for her to argue with, but instead I blurt, “This isn’t fair.”
Sympathy flickers in Drae Devorla’s eyes. I’m sure she hates that she lost me, and she also probably feels guilty that she’s replaced me. “Once you wink out, you’ll be free, you know. Freer than I’ll ever be. You’ll have plenty of marriage offers if you’re interested in that. Former Shimmerlings often bear cagic generating children, which brings a lot of prestige to families.”
I make a face. I don’t want to be a wife. I want to be the Predrae.
“Or…” Drae Devorla says, smiling slightly. “You could become a scholar at Peremberie University or Polmores. You might even become a professor one day.”
She looks out the window toward Polmores’ jagged silhouette, and I suspect she’s describing her dream. I bet she’d love to never have to think about cagic reservoir levels.
But being the Great Drae is my only dream, and if I can’t change Drae Devorla’s mind today, I’ll have to try again. I suppose that means I need to make my cagic last as long as possible by avoiding daily energy donations. But how can I do that?
“You’ll be academically delayed, of course,” Drae Devorla continues, apparently still thinking about universities. “But I could hire a tutor—and I’m certain, given the circumstances, the universities will make an exception.”
She’s trying to be kind, but she’s just upsetting me more. If she thinks the universities should bend the rules, why can’t she?
“Does studying at St. Polmores or Peremberie interest you?” she asks.
I frantically try to think of another, better option. Who sees the Great Drae regularly but doesn’t live in Triumvirate Hall? A solution occurs to me in a rush. “Let me search for new Shimmerlings. Let me become an Authenticator.”
It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s better than nothing. Authenticators evaluate children with cagic gifts and then present the most talented ones to the Great Drae.
Drae Devorla looks at me with surprise. “I didn’t know you were interested in authentication work. It’s a worthy job but very challenging. I suppose once you wink out, I can contact—”
“No!” I cry so loudly my voice echoes off the high ceiling.
Drae Devorla blinks, shocked. No one shouts at her.
“I was just trapped on an island, please, please don’t trap me in the palace.” I drop to my knees, clasping my hands, not hesitating to beg for something so important. “I couldn’t bear it! Please! The past seven years have been so hard!”
“Come now, Xylia…” Drae Devorla awkwardly pats my shoulder. “The courtyard is a lovely place… but I understand.” She grimaces, and it’s an expression I remember well. She often had that look when trying to unravel a complex engineering problem. “Your situation is unique. I suppose I could speak to the Chief Authenticator…” She looks deeply uncertain—as if she’s about to change her mind.
But before she does, I scramble back onto my feet, saying, “Yes! Thank you! That would be wonderful, and I’m so grateful.” And I am grateful. This way I won’t have to donate what’s left of my power, and I’ll have time to figure out how to convince her that I’m the ideal Predrae before my cagic disappears forever.
Drae Devorla exhales, leaning against her drafting table. “Being an Authenticator isn’t easy. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ll have to travel to some very remote towns.”
I nod because I will do anything, anything to become the Predrae again.
Besides, the Periphery can’t be worse than the Grimshore.
“Very well,” Drae Devorla says warily as if she’s already regretting her decision. “I’ll contact the Department of Authentication.”
“Thank you so very much,” I say as I silently vow to find out what makes Tah Roli Miri so special. If she can do something amazing, I’ll just have to learn how to do it too.
4
Outer’s Cove
The next lunar day is gloomy; the sky is darker and rain splatters noisily on the courtyard’s glass roof. I hover around the lavendrine cottage, waiting for Tah Roli Miri, and she finally appears around noon.
“Xylia,” she says in her unhurried, almost befuddled way when she notices me. “It’s nice to see you.”
We briefly chat about the King and Queen, and then I steer our conversation over to cagic summoning.
“I was thinking,” I say, smiling sweetly, “I’m known for my shimmerlight shapes, but what’s your special talent?”
Tah Roli Miri blushes. “I can’t control the Colossi like you can.”
“What can you do, though?” I try to keep my voice light and casual, rather than intensely competitive.
Tah Roli Miri shyly tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s nothing really. You’ll probably just laugh.”
“I won’t.” I put my hand on my heart. “I promise. I’m simply curious.”
Tah Roli Miri contemplates my words for a long moment then nods. “All right then.” She walks several paces across the lawn and creates a large, flat disc of shimmerlight. It’s a simple shape and not that impressive; but then Tah Roli Miri steps onto it, and I’ve never seen anyone stand on cagic before. To my increasing astonishment, she then guides the energy upward and circles the courtyard using simple arm movements. At one point, she’s nearly three stories above me. When she returns to the lawn, she blinks away her cagic-blindness and eyes me uncertainly. “The Great Drae calls it transference.”
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