Palace of glass, p.12
Palace of Glass, page 12
Her Bildanese was smooth, perfectly accented. If he had to guess—which he was, at this point—he’d say that she’d come from one of the capitals, probably the same as him.
He narrowed his eyes. He knew her, he was certain of it. It was like the memory was on the tip of his mind.
“You’re the one who crash-landed into our hangar last night, aren’t you?” she continued, her smile growing. “Didn’t you study aeronautics?”
“I did, and my landing was perfect. It was the Mageguard who shot me down—you can blame them.”
She laughed. “Don’t lie. I can get the footage. Remember me yet?”
He flashed her a guilty grin—wincing slightly when it pulled on the remnants of last night’s split lip. “Give me a hint?”
“Dalinar,” she said.
Memory rushed back in a flash.
“Elenia Carisunn, Professor Idden’s class.” A grin split his face. “You kicked my GPA’s ass.”
“It’s Eileen Carson, now.” The small smile reappeared, although this one had a little sadness behind it. “And yes, I did. You have a good memory, Aedynan.”
“Aiden, now,” he corrected, still smiling. “How long has it been? I don’t think I saw you after…”
He trailed off, wincing as memories sifted through his skull. The Transition period was something he hadn’t thought of for a long while, with good reason.
A quiet moment passed between them, and a hint of emotion hit her eyes.
She buried it quickly, giving him a sad smile.
“You didn’t. I took one of the Northern ships. I’d been visiting my family at the time. And after—well, my husband and I kept a low profile. We got a slow start on things.” She paused to tuck a chunk of hair behind her ear. A small, temporary frown creased her forehead. She glanced down at her watch, an elegant, gold thing that she wore backwards on her wrist like a nurse. “What are you doing right now?”
“Finding a cab. Need to check on my bank account.”
“I’ll give you a ride. I’ve got time before my next appointment.”
“Are you sure?” He gave her another glance-over. By the looks of the ID tag that swung from her neck and the stack of folders in her arms, she had much better places to be.
“I’m sure. I just need to drop these off, then we can go.”
“I work under Councillor Farrin now, managing projects and such, but with last week’s attack…” Eileen glanced over as she spoke. They moved to a slow halt as the car in front stopped. Ahead, a truck streaked through the rain at the intersection to run the yellow light.
Aiden tapped an idle finger against the handrest. In Ryarne, the traffic would have made him anxious. Too many people, and not enough of them had any driving sense. But Mersetzdeitz traffic felt comfortable, somehow. As if the downtown’s near-permanent rush hour had a kind of stabilizing mood. Rain speckled the windshield and side windows, the drops gleaming in the city’s gray light.
“Most projects are on hold,” she finished.
“Ah.” He winced—that had come out as more of a grunt than a word. How had his social skills devolved so much? Hadn’t he spent ten years dealing with Ryarne’s politico? Of course, his last encounter with them hadn’t required many words. Not when they’d sent soldiers to take down his place and invade Sophia’s Underground.
He cleared his throat and tried again. “I suppose it will be a while before things get back to normal. Any word on when an election will happen?”
Eileen snorted. “There are more than words being spoken. Haven’t you heard of the attacks?”
“Vaguely,” he admitted. “My sister had some choice expressions for me after last night’s hangar incident, and the attacks, alas, weren’t part of her diatribe.”
Technically true. Aeryn hadn’t spoken much about the attacks until after her rant on his impromptu entry and her strong opinion about his Mage training skills, but he wasn’t about to bring up what his sister had said about the attacks. He might remember Eileen from school, but this was the first time he had seen her in—well, since before the end of the world. And she worked for a government which, by the sounds and state of the city, was experiencing an attempted return to Lür’s old political system, which had had less democratic debate and more gladiatorial infighting.
He had no idea whose side, if any, she was on.
But she seemed more open and relaxed in the car. She was quiet for a minute, her thumb tracing a pattern on the steering wheel. The simple gold band of her wedding ring caught the outside light in a muted shade.
“There have been many, and I think they come from multiple sources,” she said finally. “At least six, of varying degrees.”
“But possibly more?” he asked. “How long have they been happening? I heard they started before the Council attack?”
She winced. “They did. They’ve been going on some time—although not at this… level. Before—” She bit her lip, frowned. “Before the Council attack, they were mostly conjecture—no one linked the attacks together, and they were much smaller.”
The light changed, and she turned her focus to the road. The car bumped over one of the downtown’s raised intersections.
Aiden watched her drive, studying her face. “I heard that Ivern’s wife was involved?”
Eileen’s jaw muscles tightened. “She’s on our most wanted list. Same with Cristen Hyiunl.”
“For the Council attack?”
“That, and the raid on Kjaran.” Her eyes narrowed on the road. “She also helped flatten a building earlier that day, too.”
“Flatten a building?” He frowned. “I thought she was Air?”
“She is. She also absorbed a new world Elemental spirit.” Eileen cast a frown out the windshield as she revved the engine through another light. “Who knows what else she is.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”
“She got around the warding at both Finnevar and Kjaran,” she said. “So, yes, that bad.”
“No wonder everyone wants to find her.”
“Have you seen the video? Her versus the assassin? She moves like a demon.”
“I haven’t,” he admitted. “I’ll have to look it up. You know my apprentice absorbed a spirit?”
“Who doesn’t know?” Eileen asked. “Terran people are weird. At least we know which spirit it is. How is she doing?”
“Adjusting. Last I saw, she had a pile of books open and a half-filled notebook. Amerand’s already lining her up for training.”
“Good. Make sure she’s on our side.”
“She is.”
Silence filled the car as they halted at another light. An indeterminate expression crossed her face—brows furrowed, mouth pursed like she was chewing the inside of her cheek.
After a few beats, Aiden turned his attention outside, studying the streets. Everything was half-familiar to him. Memory came in bits and pieces—the turn of that corner, the painted-over façade of those buildings, the static click-click guides of crosswalk signals. He’d lived here for a few years, after all, learning English, struggling with his loss, finding a place in this new world.
Rain slicked down the window. It grew in fervor as they waited, hitting the ground so hard that its spray triggered a subtle, low-hanging mist. Within a few minutes, the gutters flooded over.
He watched a woman run awkwardly to the nearest bus shelter. “If there have been attacks, why isn’t the city shut down?”
“Politics. Parliament wanted to shut it down, but Amerand intervened.” She blew out a heavy breath. “Don’t ask me how, but apparently, the risk of economic ruin was too great to let the city freeze for a bit. An increase in Mageguard security was all it took to push the parliamentary vote toward keeping it open.”
He raised both eyebrows. “Really? That seems… circumspect.”
“Doesn’t it just? I wonder how many palms Amerand gilded for that one.” Rain thundered on the car as she paused, eyes following the huddled, half-running group that had decided to risk the crosswalk. She was a Water Mage, he remembered. It probably amused her, seeing people get wet. “Granted, he made quite a large increase in patrols. From what I’ve heard, he’s got three-quarters of his on-duty personnel out in the city—plainclothes, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed. “And the locals?”
“Most think it’s Mage-only violence. None of them have died yet—though a few came close, before the Council attack.”
“Are they that stupid?”
“Hopeful, I think. Still, look at the streets. How many people do you see?” She stooped her head, pointing to a chic-styled café with an array of covered outdoor seating. “That place is normally chock-full, but today, there’s only a few. It was the same yesterday, and the day before—all week, in fact.”
It was past one. So, not the screaming middle of lunch hour, but the café was centrally located enough for it not to matter—and by the trio of bored-looking baristas inside, he was beginning to see Eileen’s point.
“So, not entirely stupid, then?”
“Not stupid. Hopeful, I said. But yes, their actions speak loudly.” She tapped her wedding ring idly against the wheel again as she stared ahead into the rain. “You know what I think?”
“What do you think?”
“I think we’ve hit the next breaking point. Maybe the first.”
He glanced over. She was chewing the inside of her cheek, giving her face a shrewd, dead-serious expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her eyes narrowed. Rain pounded harder on top of the car for a minute, then eased off. The car’s quiet engine cycled over, changing the subtle vibrations through his seat.
“It means that we’ve become comfortable enough in our new world to re-start the feuds of our old world.” Her eyes narrowed. “Honestly, I’m surprised it took us this long.”
Chapter 15
A soft knock jerked her back into the room.
Mieshka blinked, a frown creasing her forehead as she glanced around. How long had she been studying? Open books and paper covered every nearby surface, most littered with quick notes and page numbers, words and concepts she didn’t recognize, and whatever questions or thoughts she hadn’t wanted to forget. The book on her lap was open to a page detailing Elemental interaction and spellwork, its heavy pagecount weighing down on top of her thighs.
On the opposite couch, McKay stirred. “I’ll get it.”
She must have replaced Jo again, because Mieshka didn’t see the other woman anywhere. Eric was gone, too, presumably to his post outside of the door. She hadn’t paid attention, too drawn to the books and papers that now surrounded her. When she turned toward the door, she discovered a new stack of papers sitting on the back of the couch.
What a great filing system.
McKay disengaged the door’s locking system, and a series of deadbolts turned over with a solid clunk. It was state of the art, so she’d been told. Designed by the highest Terran security firm in Mersetzdeitz and infused with a heavy dose of Mage warding—all of which hadn’t stopped Gobardon from opening it earlier.
The hermetic seal caught when McKay pulled it, making a small sucking sound as the door swung open.
Mieshka’s heart stuttered when she saw who it was.
She’d almost forgotten about Amerand. Had, in drowning herself with books, forgotten that he’d likely have questions to ask.
He looked unassuming, standing a step back from the door with his back bowed and his hands clasped behind his back. She suspected that was intentional, or some habit he’d drilled into himself. Even without the efficient lines of his Mageguard uniform, there was no mistaking him for something harmless. He was too tall, too well-balanced, too aware of his surroundings.
And he was a Mage.
“Hello,” McKay said cheerfully. “Here for Meese?”
“Yes, I had hoped to talk for a bit.” He dropped his head and peered through the door, finding her across the room.
McKay retreated from the door to let him pass, and Mieshka fought to calm the sudden jangling of her nerves as he stepped forward. How much did he know?
“Is this about earlier?” she asked. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know—”
“You’re not in trouble. Don’t worry. I’m only glad that you are safe.” He paused to take in the continent of books and paper that spread around her. “I see you’re making good use of the books I lent you.”
Guilt tightened her lips into a thin smile. “I’m a bit of a messy studier.”
He nodded. “I was much the same, once upon a time. Mind if I sit?”
He gestured to the other couch where McKay had been—the only space free of papers. She gave a tight nod.
Amerand wasn’t much less intimidating when he sat, not like Gobardon had been. Perhaps it was because he sat on a chair rather than the floor—a difference in elevation that put his eye level a touch higher than hers—that the action didn’t have the same effect, but it might have more to do with the uniform and the fact that she’d at least known Gobardon beforehand, if only for a few days. Gobardon had looked much less dangerous, cross-legged on the floor in borrowed sweatpants and shirt. And he’d saved her life at least once.
Amerand folded his hands in his lap, finally bringing his eyes up to meet hers. “You don’t strike me as a troublemaker. I assume Gobardon had the idea for today’s… incident.”
“He said he’d show me some Lürian history.” She swallowed. “I didn’t know he had… other plans.”
“Did he show you any history?”
“Yes.” Pins and needles flooded her legs as she shifted—how long had she been sitting in this position?—but she ignored them to focus on the conversation. “He took me to a room full of artifacts and told me a little about them.”
“Ah, yes, the Hall of Memories.” He smiled. “We saw a little bit of it on the cameras he didn’t destroy. Did he mention anything about the crystals?”
“A little,” she said carefully. “He didn’t tell me what he wanted until after we got to that place.”
“And what did he want?”
A cold feeling started in her toes. How much did Amerand know? She had been under the impression that Aiden and Mersetzdeitz had shared freely, but few Mages she met—apart from Mageguard—seemed to wholly trust the system. He’d mentioned registering her before, but so many things had happened since he’d discovered her magic that he probably hadn’t bothered with a follow-up. Mersetzdeitz certainly knew she existed—the whole world had watched when she’d lit Ryarne’s shield on fire, after all—but what, exactly, did they know?
“He wanted to find the other crystals,” she said.
“Why?”
Because he thinks you stole some of them for nefarious doomsday plans.
“He thought the Phoenix could talk to them,” she said instead.
A frown appeared on his face. “Because it was originally a crystal spirit?”
Originally? Interesting choice in words. Did the Phoenix’s new location mean it wasn’t classified as a crystal spirit anymore? Were there enough non-crystal spirits around to justify the classification?
As far as she knew, the Phoenix was half of the population. Perhaps the labels came from his old language. There’d been more than enough spirits around on Lür to warrant a system—even if she hadn’t just had an indirect chat with one via the Phoenix, she’d hung around Aiden and Sophia long enough to get the gist of how crystals worked.
Plus, she’d been to the Mage memorial in Ryarne. There had been no shortage of spiritual representation there.
“I think you’d know more about that stuff than I would,” she said.
“Likely so.” A soft buzz sounded in the air, and he pulled a slim phone out of his pocket, using his thumb to scroll through the message.
Now that he wasn’t watching her, she took the opportunity to get a closer look. He was older than she’d thought, his face more worn and stamped with wrinkles than she’d noticed last night—fifty, if she’d had to guess, though his hard features and athletic figure contrasted with the number. That would put him in his thirties during the Transition.
And, if her mother’s military career was any indication, he would have cut his teeth a lot earlier than that.
McKay shifted in her peripheral vision. She’d gone back to Jo’s bed and retrieved the phone, though she had disconnected the charging cable so that she could sit on the end rather than sprawl across the middle. It didn’t escape her that McKay had placed herself slightly behind Amerand, unofficially flanking him—and Mieshka was pretty sure she was only pretending to scroll through the phone’s feeds.
As if feeling her attention, McKay glanced up and caught her eye. Then, she shifted her stare to Amerand, her dark eyes taking on a sharper tone.
When they returned to Mieshka, the soldier raised an inquiring eyebrow.
Yeah, McKay definitely wasn’t paying attention to her phone.
Mieshka gave her head a small shake, feeling her eyes widen a bit in incredulity. Had McKay just offered to do something if Amerand was making trouble? Something physical and ill-advised, considering Amerand’s Mage abilities?
No wonder she was Jo’s friend.
Amerand stirred, pocketing the phone as he brought his gaze back up and gave Mieshka a small smile. “Could the Phoenix talk to them?”
Her hesitation lasted a second too long. The smile dropped from his face, and she caught a hint of surprise in his eyes.
“I’m not sure talk is the right word,” she began, but he was already leaning forward in his seat.
So was McKay, who had abandoned all pretense of looking at her phone.
“What did they say?” he asked. “Which one did you talk to?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. They didn’t really talk. It was more like…” She paused, trying to piece together something coherent. She’d already admitted a lot more than she wanted to. Considering Amerand’s surprise, he must not have heard about her crystal-tracking abilities from before the flaming shield incident. “Thoughts? Feelings? I don’t think they communicate quite like we do.”
_preview.jpg)
