Juno ran through the king’s residence, heart pounding, thoughts churning. She nearly missed the turn at the end of the corridor, stopping inches from the dead end ahead of her. The Heartstone pulsed to life. A strong and insistent pull to the left spun her toward a widening hallway that ended in a luxuriously carpeted flight of stairs. Juno followed them up for several yards before they leveled out. A rectangular landing spread out before her, hooked right, then climbed another few yards. Tall doors stood at the top, soft light reflecting on their bleached wood surface. Juno hurried forward. She twisted the handle and pushed her way into the space beyond.
Fresh spring air tickled her cheek, and she turned to find a gash in the wall beside her. The tower, she thought. Probably a few floors below the king’s rooms.
The king’s room. The image of the king bloomed in her head, of his arms widening, his body pitching, then falling. Her stomach knotted and fresh tears formed in her eyes. She scrubbed the back of her hand over her face.
“What a horrible day,” a voice said from her side.
Juno whirled to see Brother Taisho studying the damaged wall, his expression both sad and grim. No longer wearing the ceremonial robes of Haven, the monk had changed into a black shirt and matching pants. His chain was still looped about his waist, the ceremonial hammer cinched to a spot on his right hip.
“I wasn’t sure you’d still be here,” Juno said. “I hoped you would, but…” She shrugged and fell silent.
Taisho smiled sadly. “But we’re supposed to be enemies. I am from Haven, and you have feelings for the uncrowned king.”
Juno lowered her head and looked away.
“Lucky for you, my oaths are to God. A monk’s duty is to help those in need, and not just you or Baiyren or even the capital.” Taisho cupped Juno’s chin and lifted. Her eyes met his. “I may not like Miko, and I definitely don’t agree with what she’s done, but she’s in pain, maybe more than anyone else on Higo. My oaths extend to her too.”
“Even if saving her continues the war?”
Taisho smiled lightly. “One step at a time, Juno. My sources tell me Zuishin took Miko. Without her, Zuishin stops, which is what we both want. These ancient armors are keyed to their pilots somehow. The person is important. By saving Miko, we deprive Zuishin of its pilot and eliminate our greatest threat. We just need to learn how to do that.”
Juno eyed the monk intently. He’d given this a good deal of thought. Good. She had too. Gesturing to the stairs, she led him to the street. “I’m sure that’s easier said than done. Do you know how they pick their pilots? The mah-zhin, I mean?” Her mind was racing. This was the key to stopping both of them.
“We know next to nothing.” Taisho frowned at her, but didn’t slow. “Whatever the church discovered would be in the basilica.”
Juno shook her head. “What about here? Are there official libraries or something?” Juno really missed Keiko. The kami, or whatever she was, would have the answers Juno wanted. Which was probably why she stayed away. Haven and Sahqui-Mittama had to settle this on their own.
“Well, yes. Of course. But every scholar on Higo’s been through them. After the mah-zhins’ discovery even members of the Royal Guard combed through every book we have, both at Haven and in the Royal Archive. All anyone’s found is a single passage in the Zhoku where they’re mentioned, and only in passing. There’s so little to go on. Two to three sentences, a paragraph at most. It’s a little hard to misinterpret something so short.”
“No one’s looked at it the way I can,” Juno said, her jaw set. Determined. “Maybe what we’re looking for is not in the Zhoku. What if it’s somewhere else? The answer is out there, Taisho. I know it is.”
The Heartstone burned against her skin, then tugged to the right. Juno followed the pull without comment, leading Taisho down the stone stairs, through a covered courtyard, and into a vast building of reddish-brown stone adjacent to the castle. An empty wooden desk stood behind the opened doors, and their echoing footsteps were the only sound in the lonely space.
Taisho slowed to a stop. Confusion spread over his face like rain-rippled water. His lips moved and a slow stammer left his mouth. “I don’t understand; this is the Royal Archive. Why would you ask about it if you already knew where it was?”
Juno fought a furious blush. Thankfully, the hall was dimly lit and, with her back to the door, any outside light left her hidden in shadow. “I wasn’t sure until now.” Juno didn’t like lying to Taisho, but she didn’t want to tell him about the Heartstone either. Bishop Isshi suspected a link of some kind between her and the gem. Not that she really believed their god was speaking to her. Not until recently.
Damn you, Keiko. What have you done to me?
Stopping, she pointed to a large engraving on the open door, the words Royal Archive clearly visible on the stone facing. “If in doubt, let a sign do your work for you.” A sheepish smile completed the deception, though it did little to ease her guilt. She’d make it up to him somehow. That might be a little hard to do without confessing, her conscience admonished. And you know you’re not going to. Taisho’s expression softened, and she pulled him forward. “Getting here was the easy part. I don’t have access to anything inside.”
Taisho’s shoulders drooped. “Even if you did, where would you start? I told you, people have pored over every scrap of paper and found nothing, even after years of searching. And we don’t have years; we don’t even have hours.”
“We have faith, Brother Taisho.” Juno gave the monk’s cheek a teasing pat. Turning, she faced the cavernous space, a frown crinkling her brow. “Where is everyone? You said I’d need access, but I don’t see any guards.”
“Because it’s closed,” Taisho said. “Or should be. Today’s a national day of mourning. Every government official, guardsmen included, was at the funeral or along the processional route.” His glance drifted from the empty desk to the open doors and back. “Someone will lose his job over this. You can’t leave the archives unlocked.”
“Maybe they were locked,” Juno said, punching Taisho’s shoulder. “A little faith, remember?” Stepping aside, she swept her arm in a wide arc. “After you.”
Taisho muttered something under his breath and, head shaking, led her into the hall. Juno fell in beside him, his longer stride forcing her to a near jog. Halfway across the floor, he pulled the ceremonial hammer from the chain and swung it in a smooth circular motion. A dull glow surrounded a large tile set between two granite columns. They headed over, Taisho increasing his pace, Juno working to keep up. The monk stepped onto the illuminated tile without pause, and Juno held her breath as her feet broke the line.
Blinding flashes assaulted her eyes. She flinched and looked away. When she looked up again, she found herself descending through a translucent shaft. As big as a domed stadium, the chamber had enough light for her to make out filigreed balconies lining the walls like bleachers. Row upon row of shelving ran from one to the next. Before them, ornately carved pillars climbed to support an arched ceiling made from the same polished red stone as the castle.
“How are we supposed to search this?” Juno muttered, her heart sinking as much as their floating tile. “You were right; this will take forever.”
“Maybe, but not for the reason you think.” Taisho pointed to what looked like a small hut a hundred or so feet from them. “The archive is completely catalogued. As I said, many have looked here for information on the mah-zhin. More have studied our history without coming across any word of them, either before or after their discovery. Searching for answers isn’t the problem; finding them is.”
Eventually, the strange transport touched down on a floor of matching stone. The Heartstone, which had been cold and silent, came to life with a sudden burn. Once again, Juno felt a change in its weight, a pull that guided her to the hut. Her spirits lifted.
Up close, what she’d taken for a hut look more like a freestanding cabana – open on all sides with a domed roof spreading over four slender columns of white marble. A crescent-shaped desk curved beneath the ceiling, the now familiar crystals decorating a console like a myriad of multicolored stars. Juno rolled a comfortable-looking seat of black leather away from the desk and sat. “How do I use this?” she asked without taking her eyes from the controls.
“The crystals synch to your thoughts,” Taisho puffed, catching his breath. “Everything’s catalogued, every book, page, or scroll. If it’s in the archives, you can look at it here. The archivists thought this was the best way to preserve our records. Fewer people turning pages or walking off with things.” He leaned over and pointed at a large diamond globe embedded to her right. “Just set your palm over the crystal and say what you need. That’s all there is to it.”
Like the Heartstone, Juno thought, putting her hand down. She took a deep breath and focused on the warmth beneath her fingertips. “I’d like to search obscure texts,” she said aloud. “Anything attributed to prophets or prophecy and the mah-zhin.”
A pair of books appeared in the air, projections, she guessed, of the actual volumes. “Two,” she breathed. “Thank God.” She inhaled to steady herself. “Cross reference with the name Earth and show the results.”
“Earth?” Taisho started. “But–”
Juno held up her hand for silence as the book on the left dissipated. She leaned forward. “Magnify.” The remaining book zipped forward until it dominated the space before her. Juno stared at the cover, and her mind went numb. She wheeled on Taisho. “How old is this book, Taisho?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.” Juno’s reaction threw him. Color bloomed on his cheeks. His hands came up, palm out placatingly. He took a deep breath and studied the image. After a moment, he gestured at the notes glowing beneath the book. “According to those, Higo’s first high priest entered the volume with the first known copy of the Zhoku.” Stepping back, he stared at her, concern lining his face. “What is it, Juno? What do you see? Tell me. Please. A thousand scholars have looked at it, but it’s written in a language no one understands.”
“I do,” Juno said stonily. “That’s English, Taisho. That’s modern English.”