So I tell her how Golly threw me against the filing crates and that he was about to hit me when my shimmerdark appeared. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” I say. “I just… I wanted him to go away. I was scared.”
“Of course you were.” Drae Devorla’s wrinkles deepen, especially the ones in the corners of her mouth and nestled between her eyebrows. “Did you show Theandra the drawings?”
“Yes,” I say. “But she ripped them up, and then she told the guards to kill me. She wouldn’t let me in the Marin Harbor shelter either.”
Drae Devorla frowns. “And what about the child? How did she end up with you?”
It’s even harder to think about Rutholyn. Every time I do, I feel a wave of pain and sadness. “She hid in the seg-coach. I didn’t know she was there until I’d left Marin Harbor.” I stare at my soup. It’s some sort of brothy something, and I still have no appetite. Drae Devorla isn’t eating either. “I probably should have turned around and tried to get her into the shelter.” Why didn’t I? It’s hard to remember all the reasons now.
I should have done so many things differently.
“Is Golly dead?” I ask.
Drae Devorla nods, and I’m not surprised. Golly was severely injured when I last saw him. “And rest assured,” she adds, “the Chief Authenticator and I will thoroughly investigate Theandra’s role in this.”
I suppose that’s a small relief. Drae Devorla stirs her soup and eats some of it, and when her bowl is nearly empty, I ask, “When will it happen—my downleveling?”
Drae Devorla dabs her mouth with a napkin. “Not for another few days—maybe a week.”
“Why not now?” I ask.
She pushes away her soup bowl. “There are cityland treaties that must be honored. Your downleveling will generate a lot of energy, and that energy must be shared with the Connected Lands. I’ve already wired messages to the other Conduits. They have a right to attend your downleveling and collect a share of the harvest.”
The harvest? That’s an awful way to put it. I also don’t like that my downleveling will have an audience—and not just any spectators either, the highest-ranking dignitaries in the Connected Lands. Vonnet urinated during his downleveling. What if I do that? Please no.
“I can tell you’re worried.” Drae Devorla puts down her spoon. “Try not to think too much about it. Focus on resting and healing, and would you like your family here for support? Or perhaps Sir Calvolin Nelvaso and Madame Straechos?”
I shake my head. I created this mess on my own, and I want to suffer the consequences on my own.
20
Auldora
Ispend a few more days in a medicated fog, loosely aware that Drae Devorla’s often leaving Triumvirate Hall to welcome other Conduits. They’ve begun to arrive in armored boats at the protected dock—the only safe way to travel between citylands during the Dark Month.
I haven’t asked the Great Drae about Haberdine yet, or even about Glowy Pony, and I’m not quite sure why. But late one evening, while she’s off greeting the Vazor of Ganorine, I decide to see what Tah Roli Miri knows. I find her in the Great Drae’s workshop, dutifully copying a technical drawing.
“Do you need something?” Tah Roli Miri asks in her languid way as I limp across the room. “Should I call for a Maternal? Are you in pain?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” I assure her. “I just want to talk to you.”
She slowly puts her pencil down and looks at me with concern.
“Have you ever heard of Haberdine?” I ask.
“Oh… oh yes. Haberdine.” She glances at her hands, seeming troubled. “Such a tragedy.”
“What happened?” I pull over a stool so I can sit beside her. Other than the bright light on the table, the room is dark. “Why did the barriers fail?”
Tah Roli Miri shakes her head. “An official was illegally selling the town’s cagic rations, so they ran out of energy.”
I’m surprised by how relieved I am. The projection towers weren’t faulty. Drae Devorla wasn’t to blame. Aerro was wrong. “Are you sure?” I ask.
Tah Roli Miri nods. “It was in all the newsreaders. The Great Drae is still upset about it.” For a few moments, we sit quietly, and then she says, “I hope your downleveling goes well. I’m sure you’ll survive.”
“Survive?” I echo. I didn’t realize downleveling could be deadly. Yet I suppose if my experience is anything like Vonnet’s, having my cagic removed will be painful and invasive. And because I can summon far more energy than Vonnet could, the Conduits will have to remove a huge amount before I stop regenerating it.
I don’t really want to talk about my downleveling, though, because I don’t want to think about it, so I ask my other question. “Have you ever heard of living cagic? As in, creatures made of energy that can move and think on their own?”
“No.” Tah Roli Miri looks mildly alarmed, which for her probably means she’s quite shocked. “If you’ve seen something like that, you need to tell the Great Drae.”
“No… it’s just…” Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up. “I had a dream about it. I thought it might mean something.”
Tah Roli Miri’s gaze softens and drifts off. “Sometimes if I think about cagic too much, about everything we don’t know… I get scared. What else is out there?”
When I return to my room, I think about Haberdine again. How could the town’s energy reserves get so low without anyone noticing? And aren’t most towns able to transfer more cagic from Kaverlee City during an emergency? Something about Tah Roli Miri’s story doesn’t quite add up; I really should ask Drae Devorla herself. So when I hear her voice a few hours later, I climb out of bed. I’m pretty sure Tah Roli Miri has left, so she must be talking to a servant.
Yet when I step into her workroom, I see her standing with Matron Isme, the Maternal Superior. “I’m sorry you had to wait,” Drae Devorla says. “The Vazor of Ganorine is so talkative.”
“It’s fine,” Matron Isme says. “Auldora’s ready.”
Ready for what? Neither woman seems to have noticed me, so I quietly step back into the shadowy doorway and continue listening.
Drae Devorla pushes a few frizzy gray curls out of her eyes and yawns. “Very well, let’s get this over with.”
Deeply confused, I watch Matron Isme pick up a small cagic lantern, and then she and Drae Devorla leave the workshop.
I follow them. I don’t even think about it. If they’re doing something that involves a Shimmerling, then it involves me too. And even though I shouldn’t risk summoning more shimmerdark, it’s an excellent way to move silently. After I ease the workroom door closed, I create a round disc of energy. Then kneeling on its warm, prickly surface, I hover behind Drae Devorla and Matron Isme as they descend the stairs.
They walk along the corridor that passes beneath the Maternals’ dorm, and then they use an unremarkable door I’ve never paid much attention to. Yet the door won’t open for me. They must have locked it behind them.
If I heat cagic and cut through the bolt, Drae Devorla will eventually realize I followed her.
I hesitate. She believed me when I told her about the Shalvos. She didn’t have to. She could have accused me of murdering Golly. She gave me the benefit of the doubt, and maybe I should do the same thing now.
Yet I’m also about to be downleveled, about to make a huge sacrifice. It’s only fair that I fully understand everything that happens in Triumvirate Hall.
Pushing aside my guilty feelings, I heat a small shimmerdark panel and use it to slice through the lock. With a soft noise, the door opens, revealing a dimly lit passage much humbler than the elegant parts of the palace I’m usually in.
I can’t see Drae Devorla or Matron Isme ahead of me, yet gliding soundlessly forward on my shimmerdark disc, I soon spot them. They walk down several windowless corridors, descend two more long staircases, and then enter a much darker passage. Here, Matron Isme switches on her cagic lantern. The floors are rough stone and the walls are damp. The air is
unpleasantly warm too, and when I hear a rhythmic thumping and feel my internal cagic vibrate, I know where we’re headed: the palace’s energy reservoirs.
Sure enough, the women soon enter a cavernous space full of large storage canisters. The shiny, steel containers stretch up to the vaulted ceiling, and shimmerlight gleams through thick glass windows in their smooth sides. Sweat trickles down my neck as I climb off my energy disc and let the cagic vanish. I don’t have to worry about being quiet anymore. The rhythmic hiss and smack of the compression pumps will hide my footsteps.
Drae Devorla and Matron Isme fan their faces as they duck under the brackets holding the huge tanks upright, crossing the hall. It’s strange to think that this vast underground chamber is only Kaverlee’s second largest storage facility. Most of the city’s energy is processed and contained in the Foundry, which stands on the border of Upper and Lower Topdwell.
I follow Drae Devorla and Matron Isme around a particularly huge tank and nearly scream.
Realms, what a horrible sight.
Auldora lies on a metal table, unconscious. Wired cuffs circle her wrists and ankles, and a copper halo wraps around her head. I also see downleveling equipment nearby, which doesn’t make any sense. She’s seventeen. She’s about to wink out. Why would anyone downlevel her?
Yet with quiet efficiency, as if they’ve done this hundreds of times, Drae Devorla and Matron Isme begin adjusting dials, connecting cords, and tightening Auldora’s various bindings. They also put a mask over her mouth and nose for a few moments. A tube connects the mask to a small machine that makes a wet, squelching sound. Something in the mask must be keeping her asleep.
Drae Devorla says, “Are you ready?”
Matron Isme nods.
But I’m not. With no plan and no idea what I’m interrupting, I rush forward. “No! Stop!”
The women stare at me, their hands still resting on switches and knobs.
And in a rush of horrified comprehension, I understand how the Connected Lands work. It’s a vast, heartbreaking realization. “No one winks out,” I say.
“Xylia.” Drae Devorla moves cautiously toward me like I’ve become so unpredictable I might scratch or bite. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“No one ever winks out?” Now I’m shouting, and my voice echoes around the reservoirs. “You downlevel everyone,” I say in a softer voice, gathering my scattered thoughts. “You downlevel all Shimmerlings before they turn into Shimmercasters—before they become truly powerful. But not me because I transformed earlier than you expected. I’m only fifteen.”
Matron Isme looks flustered, frantic, but Drae Devorla watches me with a brittle, flat expression that has something unpleasant stirring beneath it.
“That’s why even children who are barely cagic-touched have to be downleveled,” I continue. “If they kept their powers… they might become like me.”
Or like Aerro or Tury.
Drae Devorla abruptly breathes in, her nostrils flaring. “Yes, Xylia, yes. If their cagic isn’t removed, Shimmerlings turn into Shimmercasters. Now calm down and think about what that means. You know how much power you have and how tempting it is to summon corrupt energy. Downleveling is the only way to keep everyone safe; the only way to use our natural resources efficiently and safely.” She shakes her head. “I wish you hadn’t followed us.”
My head wound had been feeling better, but now it throbs. Thinking clearly suddenly takes an immense amount of effort. “So… I would have been downleveled even if I hadn’t become a Shimmercaster?”
“Eventually, yes,” Drae Devorla says quietly. “It would have been easier, though. You wouldn’t have as much energy to remove, and it could have been done peacefully… like this.” She gestures at motionless Auldora.
“It still seems wasteful,” I say. “If there were more Shimmercasters, they could fill more reservoirs and help you protect the city. You wouldn’t have to do everything on your own.”
“You’re right,” the Great Drae says, her upper lip curling. “In a perfect world, we’d have more Shimmercasters. All the realms know I could use help. But more Shimmercasters would also mean more corrupt cagic—which by the way, can’t power anything. And what if those Shimmercasters hurt others? I’d no longer have more power to stop them. Because of those concerns, Xylia, the Connected Lands have rules that regulate cagic use—rules I must obey…” She takes a step toward me. “And enforce.”
“I still don’t understand,” I say, eyeing Auldora. No, I do understand; I just don’t agree.
Drae Devorla rubs her forehead with her fingertips, as Matron Isme mutters, “Her curiosity has always been problematic.” And there’s something sinister in the way Drae Devorla looks at her that makes me think about Osren’s claim: Drae Devorla got rid of you on purpose.
I have to know. “Was my shipwreck an accident?”
Drae Devorla’s silver-flecked eyebrows crumple. “Probably.”
Which isn’t the definite “yes” I wanted to hear. I walk to the table and put my hand on Auldora’s limp arm. She’s the only person here on my side. “And what really happened in Haberdine? Did you destroy the town?”
“No, of course not.” Her voice tightens. “A town official was stealing cagic.” She doesn’t say it with much conviction, though. Her words tremble and waver.
“Why was that possible?” I ask. “You know, I’ve been there. I’ve seen the shelter.”
“And what exactly did you see?” she says sharply. But after wiping sweat off her brow, she changes her approach. “Forgive me, it’s just you’re right—it shouldn’t have happened. I should have installed more alarms and made sure the reservoirs couldn’t be tampered with. I should have made sure the backup reservoirs turned on automatically. I should have… I don’t know, done things differently—built things differently.” She looks at me intently. “This job, the position you so desperately want, is hard. One broken connector or one misread gauge? People die.” Tears gleam on her cheeks, something I’ve never seen before. “I do try, you know. I’m always searching for better ways to compress energy and trying to make downleveling less painful and trying to invent better cagic distribution systems. I’m also always, always trying to make us safer with stronger barriers and more powerful shockguns. I try and try and try, and it’s never enough. I feel like I’m always just a few steps away from failure.”
I stare at her, feeling furious but also conflicted. I once thought she was entirely good, someone to admire and emulate. Now, if I thought she was completely evil, I could hate her and fight against her, but this is more complicated. She’s supporting a terrible system because she believes she has no other choice, no better option. It’s a murky, messy situation.
“People never say thank you either,” Drae Devorla adds with a half-smile. “No, they just want their heaters, scrubbers, and ice chests. They want faster chariots, brighter signs, and more and more land that’s completely protected from nocturnes.” She exhales, suddenly looking drained and frail.
I pity her. I do. But I also can’t let her downlevel Auldora, so I say, “I am sorry.” Then I create a large ball of shimmerdark.
Yet before I’m able to smash the nearest downleveling machine, Drae Devorla surprises me and summons shimmerdark too. And not only does she shape the energy lightning-fast, she wraps it around my eyes, creating a blindfold. She then uses her cagic grip on my head to twist me sideways and disorient me. Pain flares in my already injured brow, and like Aerro’s cagic, because I didn’t summon this energy, I can’t manipulate it. I also can’t destroy the downleveling machines now that I can’t see; I might hit Auldora or worse, rupture a storage tank. Frustrated, I let the shimmerdark I summoned dissipate.
“I thought you didn’t use corrupt energy,” I say, tugging on the cagic covering my eyes.
“I only use it when I must,” the Great Drae says, putting a firm hand on my shoulder. “No Conduit can prevent accidental Shimmercasters—no matter how vigilant they are. Therefore, every so often we
Conduits help each other capture illegal Shimmercasters.”
“Should I call for the Shieldbearers?” Matron Isme asks.
“No, no,” Drae Devorla says, keeping a tight cagic hold on me. “I can handle this.”
But can she? She may have captured Shimmercasters, but I bet she’s never fought wolievs or catterns or sennecks. Because I’m pretty sure she’s standing behind me and slightly to my left, I send a fist-sized ball of shimmerdark at what I hope is her stomach.
Drae Devorla cries out, and I feel briefly triumphant, but then the cagic blindfold thuds me down onto the ground. My already tender forehead cracks against the concrete and pain rips through me, unbearable and overpowering.
Fingers touch my back, feathery and gentle. “Stop fighting, Xylia. I don’t want to hurt you but believe me—I can.”
“I’ll stop,” I whimper, stunned. The Great Drae I know would never get into a physical fight—or rather, the Great Drae I thought I knew.
She helps me up, but she also keeps me blindfolded. The world seems to sway, and again pain simmers, outraged, through my skull.
“The shipwreck wasn’t my doing,” Drae Devorla says, taking my hand and leading me to the right. “Another cityland conduit may have sabotaged your ferry, though.”
“What?” A shudder runs through me, along with a ripple of painful memories: the flooded boat, the angry black water, the terrified people.
She takes a deep breath. “I’d told several of them that I thought I might have selected the wrong Predrae.”
Wrong Predrae? Even then, she didn’t want me. I feel like I’m trapped in a slowly collapsing building.
“You were powerful, yes,” Drae Devorla says. “But you were also proud and rebellious. That’s not the right personality for a Conduit. The others suggested I dispose of you in a staged accident, and I wouldn’t—couldn’t, but a few months later, the Inlet Ferry sank.”
So Osren was right, in a way. Drae Devorla didn’t try to kill me, but one of the other Conduits—the Great Drae, so to speak, of another cityland—did.
Shimmerdark Page 20