They reached the middle of the Spirit Temple, and Alexander placed his hand on a stone to the right of the door, applying a little pressure before they heard a click and the door swung open. 'That's all it takes to get in?' asked Anita, concerned for their privacy.

  Alexander smiled as he took her hand, pulling her in after him. 'That's all it takes if you have the right energy for the monitor in that stone,' he said, pushing the door closed behind them.

  'Oh,' said Anita, feeling a little foolish, 'that's good.'

  It wasn't at all what Anita had been expecting, and in stark contrast to the small rooms under the temple in Empire, this was one large, almost haphazard space. The ceiling was the same height as the rest of the temple, acres above them, a sheet of glass all that stood between them and the night sky above.

  'Wow,' said Anita, craning her neck to look upwards, 'I never imagined this is what it would be like in here. Are the Mind and Body chambers the same?' She wandered around, but her eyes kept flitting back to the ceiling.

  'I don't know, I've never been in them,' he said, moving to the drinks cabinet and pouring two glasses of wine. The cabinet was one of several items placed against the walls of the open room, which was split up into sections.

  The drinks cabinet was next to a partner's desk, piled high with books and papers. Then came an L-shaped seating area facing outwards into the room, a low coffee table in the middle. On the other side of the space stood a plush, canopied, king sized bed, with almost unnoticeable doors in the wall on either side. Anita presumed one was a bathroom and the other a wardrobe.

  A small kitchenette was next to the seating area, with a tiny square table and two spindly chairs, but the whole point of the room was in the middle, where a large area had been left clear, aside from a few well-worn meditation mats.

  Anita found the room oppressive; something about the big open space, enclosed on every side, the only light coming from above, windows too far away to reach.

  'I agree, it's horrible,' said Alexander, reading Anita's energy as he handed her a glass, leading her to one of the mismatched sofas. 'We can stay at the house if you'd prefer?'

  'No, it's fine,' said Anita, leaning into him, taking a sip of wine and rolling it around her mouth, 'it's just such a strange space.'

  'I know,' he said, stroking her arm, 'made stranger because all the Spirit Descendants have hated it, but nobody's ever done anything to try to improve it. It's like they know it's a lost cause!'

  Anita smiled. 'Dinner was better than I thought it would be,' she said. 'Everyone was well behaved.'

  'Helped by the fact Gwyn, Marcus, and Anderson didn't turn up,' laughed Alexander. 'It's strange that Anderson's suddenly back, and that he seems to be best friends with Timi.'

  'It makes me nervous, seeing as Bass didn't trust him,' said Anita. 'But it's not surprising he wants to get in on the action; he’s supposedly the world's leading Relic expert, after all. If you ask me, he’s a shameless narcissist.'

  'Harsh,' said Alexander, giving her a playful squeeze, 'I'm not sure I'd go that far.'

  'Well, Bass didn’t trust him,' she said, pointedly.

  'We don't know why though.'

  'We don't know a lot of things we'd like to,' she said, her tone taking an exasperated turn. 'We've made no progress with the note Philip left you, or with opening the cylinder in my head, or with the meaning of Bass' note. And then there's the mystery around Cleo's nameless new friend, what the Magnei are, where they live in the Wild, and how we find them?'

  'True,' said Alexander, 'but we have to focus. Tomorrow we send the Relic back, the day after that we start to rebuild our political system, democratically, and after that, we work out the rest, including how to actually return the Relic.'

  'Which is all well and good, so long as tomorrow goes according to plan.'

  'It will,' he said, reassuringly. 'The tests went like clockwork, and so will tomorrow, given the levels of precision applied by you and Elistair.'

  'If you say so,' she said, not convinced. 'Timi and Marcus is another strange partnership.'

  'Yep,' said Alexander, but he wasn't really paying attention. He took her wineglass, putting it and his on the floor, then leaned in and kissed her lips. 'I don't want to talk about them.'

  'What if I do?' she said, looking up at him encouragingly.

  'You don't,' he said, kissing her again, pushing her back onto the sofa.

  She huffed out a breath as his weight came down on top of her, her body arching into him, tipping her neck back so he could reach it with his lips. 'I suppose you're right,' she said.

  CHAPTER 17

  They woke early the following morning, the room lit by dazzling sunlight. Anita now understood the canopy above the bed: it was shelter. The room felt different now, like walking on the inside of a light bulb, too close to the element for comfort, but restrained by the glass from breaking free. The room was stifling. She breathed a sigh of relief when they exited in search of breakfast, Alexander clad in his floor-length Descendants' cloak, ready for the ceremony.

  To their surprise—although, when Anita thought about it, it wasn't surprising at all—the temple was already packed full of people who'd arrived early to secure a good spot. They'd planned to go to one of Alexander's favourite cafes for breakfast, only a couple of minutes' walk from the temple, but, as they emerged, it was clear that wasn't going to happen.

  Outside the temple was a horde of people, all queuing for the security checks Marcus and Timi had put in place. As soon as they spotted Alexander, their attention switched to him. Thankfully, the security guards acted quickly, ushering Anita and Alexander through the crowd and into the council building across the road. With all the grabbing hands and the press of bodies, they were both thoroughly shaken when they got there.

  'Should have realised that would happen,' said Alexander.

  Anita took his hand and squeezed it, her attention moving swiftly to the raft of lingering councillors in the entrance hall. 'Is there anywhere in here we can go?' she said, keen to get away from public scrutiny.

  'Yes,' he said, leading her towards a door to their right. 'Descendants' drawing room,' he said, as they emerged into a stuffy room with a large fireplace, heavy curtains, several formal sofas, and a couple of tables, laid with crisp, white linen. 'This room is for the sole use of Descendants, so as long as none of the others decide to show up, we should have the place to ourselves.'

  Anita sat down at one of the tables, Alexander walking to the side of the room, pulling a cord for service.

  Moments later, a waiter, clad in a restrictive morning suit, crisply entered the room. 'How can I help, Sir?' he asked, standing stiffly in anticipation of instruction.

  'We'd like some breakfast, please,' said Alexander. 'Coffee and orange juice for me, and a sausage sandwich made with fennel rye bread and onion chutney. And for you, Anita?' he asked, sending the waiter's attention her way.

  Anita raised an eyebrow at his specific and demanding request. 'Orange juice and tea please,' she said, 'and Eggs Royale, if that's possible?'

  'What bread would you like that served on?'

  'Seeded brown?' she asked, hopefully.

  'Very good,' said the waiter, 'anything else I can get for you?'

  'No, that's all, thank you,' said Alexander, taking the seat opposite Anita.

  'Rationing doesn't apply here?'

  A guilty look crossed Alexander's face. 'Not currently. It's on my list of things to change… if today doesn't go according to plan…'

  Breakfast arrived rapidly, but they ate at a leisurely pace. The ceremony wasn't until midday, so they had several hours before Alexander had to be there; before Anita had to make herself scarce. They had barely finished eating, Anita relaxing back in her chair, cradling her tea, when the door opened, and in walked Marcus and Gwyn, with Timi and Anderson.

  'Oh,' said Marcus, as he spotted them, his energy wary, 'I didn't think you would be here for ages.'

  'We weren't going to be,' said Alexander, 'but the unruly crowd outside made our decision for us.'

  'You have to leave,' said Gwyn's sharp, snippy voice. She was looking directly at Anita. 'Now,' she added, turning to Alexander and saying, 'that's what we agreed.'

  ‘We agreed I wouldn’t be at the ceremony,’ said Anita, furious at Gwyn's audacity; waltzing in and issuing dictates, ‘not where I could or could not be several hours beforehand. But if you find it so difficult to control your emotions, I'll leave. I hope you manage more composure when you're standing in front of the entire world, pretending to have a legitimate role in our plan.'

  Nobody replied, although Anita was pleased to see from Gwyn's energy, that she was beside herself with anger. Anita got up to leave, and Alexander followed her out of the room.

  'Go back,' said Anita, continuing before Alexander could protest, 'I don’t know what they're up to, but whatever it is, they don't want either of us there. I don't think we should grant them that luxury. In fact, I'm going to get the others. I’ll tell them to come and join you; that should really ruin their morning.’

  'What do you think they want to discuss?' asked Alexander, with an edge of scepticism.

  'I don't know. Maybe nothing. Maybe they want to coordinate outfits. Or maybe they're discussing how to take control after we send the Relic back. Either way, I'd rather not make it easy for them.'

  'Fine,' said Alexander, looking pointedly at the growing number of councillors who were finding a reason to linger. 'I'll see you afterwards,' he said, pulling her into an embrace, then kissing her enthusiastically goodbye, not caring about the watching eyes.

  'Good luck,' she said, as he pulled back.

  'All I have to do is stand there and pretend,' he said in a low voice, 'I think I can handle that.' He called over a councillor to show Anita out of the back entrance, to avoid the crowd.

  She kissed him one final time before turning to leave, determined to find anyone she could who Gwyn might not like, and send them in her direction.

  * * * * *

  Several hours later, Anita made her way down to the beach, finding the secret path Alexander had shown her the first time she'd come to Kingdom.

  She'd gone to the hotel where Helena and the other Institution members were staying, and after telling them of the meeting between Timi, Anderson, Marcus, and Gwyn, found they needed no encouragement to head for the council building.

  Anita was smug, before emptiness took hold. She had been working on Bass' theory with Elistair for weeks, but would be the only one not there to witness it in person. Worse, she felt like an outsider, like she had no connection to what was going on at all. Even those in the crowd would be part of something that Gwyn had shut Anita out of; it hollowed out her insides.

  She walked around the market for a bit, looking at all the exotic merchandise. She imagined which stalls her mother had done business with, when she'd returned from the Wild Lands after meeting Jeffrey. But the market, almost empty when she got there, was like a ghost town by the time the event was due to start, all the stalls closed, not a single person to be found on the usually packed streets.

  So she made her way to the beach, where at least the waves kept to their usual rhythm, pounding the shore and sending up white froth. Anita sat just above the waterline, picking up pebbles and throwing them into the sea as she ran over everything in her mind. Try as she might to concentrate on something more productive, she kept coming back to the image of Gwyn falling backwards as they’d sent the first test boulder into the sky. She smirked cruelly every time she thought of it.

  She couldn't put the day's events out of her mind, so decided to meditate. She still needed to open the brass cylinder, and hadn't tried since they'd returned from the Cloud Mountain. And maybe, if she looked closely at the hall in her mind—the Great Hall of the Magnei, apparently—she might glean some clue as to where it was located, or what took place there.

  She closed her eyes and concentrated her energy, arriving at the hall on her first attempt. It looked just as it had the last time she'd been here, although it felt shaky under the strain of the solo meditation.

  She'd meditated by herself only a handful of times, and it still felt strange without the support and comfort of someone else's energy. She walked around the room and looked out of the windows, seeing nothing but woodland beyond. Large, old, haphazardly spaced trees grew where they wished, huge and ancient branches bowing this way and that, but nothing that gave any clue where the hall was located.

  She reached the end of the room where two thick, heavy doors covered with ironmongery stood. She pulled on the rings to open them, but the doors wouldn't budge.

  Becoming frustrated, she circled the room again, hoping some detail would jump out at her. Maybe she'd missed an inscription on a wall, or behind a tapestry she would find a hidden map. Or maybe she’d find an object originating from a specific region in the Wild. She had no such luck, so turned her attention to the box and brass cylinder instead.

  She picked up the box, removed the brass cylinder, and sat on a throne as she turned it over in her hands. She studied every detail for anything she might have missed. She looked at the ends, then tried to pull and twist them. She rubbed the sides, hoping for hidden words, or grooves invisible in the low light. She even hurled it at the floor. Nothing worked, her exasperation reaching new heights, Anita having to restrain herself from launching it through the nearest window. The only thing that stopped her was the worry that she'd never get it back.

  She gave up, leaning back in the throne, letting her mind wander, trying to calm down and reflect. This inevitably led to thinking about what was happening at the temples. She ran through how she thought proceedings would go; Alexander, Gwyn, and Marcus, clad in floor length Descendants' cloaks, hoods up as they processed in, each through their own temple.

  They would emerge, somehow in perfect unison, and stand before their tripod, in front of the Relic. The councillors would have already processed in, also clad in cloaks, all solemn and self-important. There would be music; something serious and dramatic, giving an air of intensity and significance, riling up the crowd, creating a tense and expectant atmosphere.

  Everyone would be on tenterhooks, waiting anxiously for the main event. And then, after a meaningful pause, leaving time for everyone to dwell on the magnitude of what they were about to see, Anderson would stand. He would draw the crowd's attention, providing a cover for Elistair setting the energy hook.

  Anderson would continue to wind up the crowd, describing what they were about to see, the effects it would have on the energy, and most importantly, would paint a picture of how the future might look. He would describe change of extreme proportions; democracy and elected leaders, equality and prosperity. Then, when his vision of the future was so real it was almost palpable, he would carry his show to a quiet, deliberate conclusion. He would instil a calm, anticipatory trance. The crowd would be silent on the surface, but something would bubble almost uncontrollably underneath, just waiting to be given the chance to break free.

  Anderson would take his seat, and all eyes would move to the Descendants. They would lower their hoods, outstretch their arms, furiously focus on the ugly rock in front of them. And then there would be a small click that would sound like a great crack across the eager silence, and the Relic would catapult skywards, and the crowd would silently watch it go.

  They would not believe what they were witnessing, that it was really happening, and then, when it settled into their bones, they would erupt into roars of celebration. They would clap and hug and begin to really believe a better future was near.

  And at the front, at the epicentre, Anita imagined the Descendants looking cautiously at each other, Alexander turning to Elistair, sharing a look that meant they had succeeded. But as she took in the warmth of Alexander's victorious smile, the image of Gwyn falling over in the back draft popped once more into Anita's mind.

  She found a smile spreading inadvertently across her lips, before something snapped forcefully into place in her mind. She dropped the cylinder, the shock of the realization so great, her only desperate thought that she had to get to the temples. She had to stop everything. But as the cylinder hit the floor, it bounced back up in front of her. It hovered in mid-air, the metal unrolling before her eyes, revealing its secret.

  It looked like nothing more than a sheet of brass unfurling, becoming flat. It contained nothing physical, but somehow, Anita now knew the location of the Magnei. She knew who and what the Magnei were. But more than that, she knew, with certainty, that the Magnei held the key to returning the Relic to the Gods.

  She didn’t know why the cylinder had opened now, but she had no time to consider it; she had to get to the temples. She couldn't get the image of Gwyn falling over out of her head because it was the answer to the question in Bass' note. His calculations didn't properly account for the level of energy backlash when moving the Relic, because the Relic was a unique object, whose powers they didn't even begin to understand. Bass had made a guess, but that was all it was. Something that powerful could have a terrible backlash, so large that it might not simply knock over, but could even kill those close to it. And Alexander was one of the closest of them all.

  Anita pulled herself out of the meditation and sprang to her feet, sprinting toward the temples. She didn't stop until she reached the security guards at the entrance to the Body Temple, who, recognizing her, refused to let her pass. 'Sorry,' said a small, particularly officious guard, 'we've had strict instructions from the Body Descendant not to let you in. I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to leave.'

  Anita considered arguing, but quickly threw this notion aside; they had their orders, and she didn't have time to convince them, nor would she be able to fight her way through all the guards in time. Instead, she forced her way around to the entrance of the Spirit Temple, weaving her way through the thick crowd, who, having been unable to secure a place inside the temple, were rapturously watching a projection. They didn't appreciate Anita's attempts to push past.

 

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