Gulping, he cautiously made his way to one of them. They weren’t breathing. A faint smell of honey… There were dots on the neck of the guard, the skin around them turned dark blue from poison. Safani’s poison. He squinted his eyes to see no dart in the wound, which meant Safani must’ve stabbed them from up close. Cain remembered Safani standing behind him at Gladdis’s house, materializing as if from thin air.
He entered the main doors, which were ajar. It was dark inside. From somewhere came a heavy, irregular hum of machinery. He walked down the dark corridor, following it.
Just when he noticed the cloying smell of honey once again, something grabbed his ankle, almost making him shout. It was afallen guard, a weak moan escaping his lips. Cain bent down and listened.
“Who… who are you?”
“Cain, from the Ministry of Intelligence,” he lied. “What happened?”
“A man wearing black… appeared from nowhere…”
“Where did he go?”
“Stairs… underground…” He let go of Cain’s ankle and pointed.
Half of the guard’s neck was discolored, a fact obvious even to his blurry vision in the dimness. The puncture wound itself had widened to the width of a coin and his flesh was rotting inward. Cain lied again.
“You will be fine. Rest.”
He then took the guard’s sword from his belt. The guard reached out to him as if to object, but his arm fell lifelessly before he could grab Cain’s ankle again.
Cain passed through the darkness. There was a door where the guard had pointed. He took his spectacles from his inner pocket and leaned toward the sign posted on it. Under the open-eye insignia of the Office of Truth, it read,NO ENTRY.
32ARIENNE
Arienne could sense that Emere feared her. Most people feared sorcerers. Having seen her slay a machine monster with an invisible sword was likely to have added to the intimidation. Arienne didn’t dislike this state of affairs. If he hadn’t seen her do it, he never would have asked to escort her to Arland himself. Once she removed her scarf and revealed her clan markings to show that she was from Arland, Emere insisted she meet Loran.
“But why?”
“Princess Loran faces a tremendous challenge.”
“The invading legion you’ve mentioned.”
“That is so. As you are also a thorn in her enemy’s eye, there should be much you can do to help each other.”
It was true she was being pursued by the Empire, but to describe her as a thorn in their eye seemed a bit much. But thinking back, she was now far, far from having an ordinary life. She had hidden the infamous Eldred in her mind and had just killed the Grand Inquisitorof the Office of Truth and taken his Class Two generator. She was a thief, murderer, traitor, and rogue sorcerer, arguably a mortal enemy of the Empire. All that and she was only sixteen. Not disliking this notion either, she smiled to herself.
Since she left the pass, Eldred had sat on the edge of the bed, saying nothing. Violet smoke continued to trickle from where his arms had been cut. Arienne did not speak to Eldred either.
What was she going to do about him? It was unforgivable that he’d tried to steal her body. But she didn’t know if it was wise to get rid of him either. While she could try to remove him from her mind, she was hesitant to let him out into the world, having seen what he could do within the confines of the imagined room. But perhaps Eldred, having tested Arienne and lost, would prove more docile in the future?
The former legion fortress looked more like an office of the Empire than a military fort. Instead of the imposing, impenetrable walls she imagined, it had almost what might be a fence. The keep and towers were tall and impressive, though. Other than the decrepit tower in the forest, she hadn’t seen a building taller than two stories since leaving the Capital, which made the fortress feel more dominating before her now. When the wind blew, there was a smell fouler than a stable before cleaning.
From Finvera Pass, it had taken her six days to reach this place, and each step made her more nervous about meeting the princess. In Arienne’s mind, the Princess of Arland was not named Loran. Because she had imagined her so vividly for the purposes of her spell, she had already preconceived the princess’s voice, appearance, and manner. A part of her did not want to meet the realprincess. There was something that bothered her about overwriting the one in her mind.
The guards did not know Emere by sight, but readily opened the gate when they heard his name. Soldiers came forth and escorted them both inside. Arienne was given a high-floor room with a good view. The princess was said to be in talks with the Ledonite allies who were camped near the fortress and would return in the evening.
Arienne unpacked. The first thing she took out of her sack was the lead sarcophagus. The baby’s name, apparently, had been Tychon. It was heavy, but she couldn’t bear to leave it on Finvera Pass. Not just because it was a Power generator, but because it was the resting place of an innocent child. An infant son who’d been murdered by his own father. Since her travels with Eldred, she could no longer regard the beings inside Power generators as mere corpses, if she ever had.
Arland had not felt like home to her when she arrived, and it was only in this room that she began to feel her journey was at an end. Ironically enough, the building was in the Imperial style. Its interior reminded Arienne of her old dormitory and of Lucretia’s house.
She had intended to lie down for just a moment on the welcomingly familiar Imperial-style bed, but the sun was setting when she was startled awake by a knocking at her door.
“Who is it?”
“It is Loran. May I enter?”
Who was Loran? Recognition jolted her out of her stupor. The princess had come to her room, in person.
