CHAPTER 19Saint Tesla,” Vespa breathes beside me.
I’ve seen his face on some of the old books and church pamphlets from New London. There was a statue of him outside the Church of Science and Technology chapel in Lowtown, though it had gotten knocked from its pedestal during the Rousing. Still, I remember that face, and I know how the Cityfolk had once revered him.
Bayne and Olivia are also staring at him in wonder.
“Ladies, gentlemen,” he says, bowing to all of us. Truffler makes a sound of approval. Piskel sneaks cautiously out from behind one of my braids to peek at him.
Charles makes hasty introductions, ending with Olivia, whom he introduces as the Empress of the Known Lands. “She has just joined us from the capital, New London, which is apparently under siege even as we speak. Isn’t that so, Your Majesty?”
“It is.” High color comes into her pale cheeks at the hidden slight.
“This New London,” Tesla says. “They say an experiment of mine brought it here by accident. But I have no recollection of such an experiment, nor any recollection of the man they say is responsible for funding and aiding me in it.”
“That would be John Vaunt,” Charles says, “our previous sovereign, who was tragically killed last year.”
Vespa glares at him, and Piskel buzzes angrily beside my ear until I whisper at him to stop.
“Yes, that one,” Tesla says. “Perhaps I shall meet him in the future, then. Funny thing, Time.”
“Maybe you should drop a boulder on his head when you do meet him and save us all the trouble,” Vespa mutters next to me. I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing out loud.
“So,” Bayne says, “tell us how you came to be here, sir. I should very much like to hear this. I presume Charles here has told you that we are on the brink of war. He brought you at a most inopportune time, I should think.”
Tesla’s gaze darts between Bayne and Charles, and he swallows. “Well, I . . . have heard something to that effect. But hopefully my demonstration tomorrow will render your worries obsolete.”
Tesla’s accent interests me. There’s a lilt there that I don’t recognize.
I look around the table. From their expressions I can guess that they are remembering a similar demonstration that took place a year ago and how that turned out apparently none too well for anyone.
“You do realize that an army of unstoppable demonic spiders is coming toward us as fast as it possibly can?” Bayne asks. “I sincerely hope your demonstration contains something that will deal with that!”
Tesla looks over at Charles, gauging how much he should say. “We shall see tomorrow.”
“I believe the Saint was about to tell us how he came to be here,” Olivia says.
Tesla smiles briefly. “I am certainly no Saint, Majesty. I am, in fact, the humblest of sinners. But the reasons I came here are simple. Charles sought me out and told me of this world with its vast resources and untold wealth. He assured me that I would have freedom such as I have never known to create the visions that have entered my head since I was a child. All I had to do was find a way to bring us here—”
“And so you did,” Bayne interrupts. “And now you are here.”
Tesla seems bewildered at the acidity of Bayne’s tone.
“Lord Duke,” Olivia murmurs at him. It is an odd thing to hear her say.
“My apologies, sir,” Bayne says. “I feel fairly certain you are a victim in this elaborate game Charles is playing. Have you any notion of what he did in order to bring you here? How he nearly destroyed this world for his own selfish gain before he arrived in yours?”
Charles’s expression is an interesting mixture of resentment and contrition. It’s rather like watching a snake turning itself inside out as it tries to shed its skin. I can’t help but be reminded of when Bayne baited Ximu to find out her plans, and it seems he is now intent on doing the same with Charles. I wonder if Charles can hold out better than she did.
“I have told him of what happened to me, yes. Of how I was enslaved by the Grue and the consequences of that,” Charles says slowly.
“So, I am deeply curious, if Old London was the balm to cure all ills, why return, Charles? There must have been some reason,” Bayne says.
Charles runs a hand through his hair. Somehow he looks much less threatening without the signet ring. “Well,” he says, “because this is home.”
“Ah yes. Home.” Bayne’s gaze could boil the air.
“I understand that you don’t believe me, my Lord. I hardly believe it myself. But I ask you to consider: What would you have done had you been in my position? Truly we come from entirely different worlds. I was born a tanner’s son in the worst part of Lowtown. You were heir to the second-most-powerful family in all the realm. You had more power than you fathomed until it was taken away. I had never had any but was offered it beyond my wildest imaginings. I think you would have done exactly as I had if you’d been born in my circumstances.”
Bayne stands. “I would never have done as you did, Charles. Never.”
Charles’s smile is so sharp, it could cut. “Then let us hope you never meet anyone who offers you such power, lest you be proven wrong.” He looks at the ring on Bayne’s finger, and Bayne’s face goes a deep shade of red.
Bayne turns to Olivia. “If I may have your leave, Majesty.”
“Granted, my Lord. Albeit with a bit of displeasure.”
Bayne bows. “My apologies, Majesty, but thank you.”
He storms from the room. I want to follow him, but I don’t want to leave Olivia and Vespa alone with Charles.
Tesla settles in next to me. It’s going to be a long evening.
When at last we’re released, I make sure Olivia and Vespa are returned to their rooms safely.
“I must speak with you,” Vespa says.
She brings me into her room and shuts the door. It feels odd being here in this vaulting room, rather than in our old parlor with its threadbare settee.
“I’m listening,” I say.
“Are you feeling better?” she asks. “You look well.” I can tell she’s admiring the uncomfortable suit, and it makes me blush.
I feel that things aren’t entirely right with me, but I have no idea how to describe it. Physically I’m well. But inside there’s something dark, a hole I’m desperate to shut away. “I’m fine, I suppose,” I say.
“You’re sure nothing’s wrong? No lasting effects from Ximu’s venom?”
Her scrutiny is making me nervous. “No,” I say, even though I feel like I’m lying. “Why are you asking?”
“Well, I think something’s still wrong with Olivia, and I was worried that you might still be feeling ill as well. Have you noticed anything strange?”
“Not with me. What do you mean about Olivia?”
“When you were captured, Doctor Parnassus came to see Olivia. He told us something odd. He said that we should find you as quickly as possible because only an Artificer could save her. Have you any idea what that means?”
I’ve been standing against a pillar, but I feel I need more support. I slump into a nearby chair. “Only an Artificer can save her? That’s all he said?”
“Yes. He said he couldn’t say more; it would violate the sacred trust he has with his patients. I’ve thought about it ever since. I wondered if you had any ideas as to what he means.”
A vision rises behind my eyes, that same vision of a silver army marching through Scientia. “No,” I say. “I truly don’t know.” I look at her. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Her face falls. “I just . . . I didn’t know what the Doctor meant. I was trying to figure it out for myself.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You seem to do that far too often.” Anger is boiling inside me, but I know it does no good. There is far too much to worry over to waste time quibbling.
She opens her mouth as if to defend herself, and then seems to have the same realization. She spreads her hands apologetically. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want anyone to think I’m weak. I want to be able to do things for myself.”
“Even when someone tells you that perhaps you can’t?”
She nods, looking me in the eye. “Even so.”
I sigh. “Perhaps this will teach you to let go of that notion. I could have been trying to help you long before now.”
She smiles, but it’s bitter and unsure. “I will take that under advisement.” She pauses for a bit, and then says, “You said that your people believe Ximu’s poison gives visions. I remember you saying before that the airship was going down, and it did. And I wondered if you’d seen anything, anything at all, that might help Olivia.”
I shake my head. I can’t say anything for the fear growing in my chest. Something is very, very wrong.
Vespa pats me on the shoulder. “Get some rest. I’m sure you’re as exhausted as any of us. Maybe the answers will come tomorrow.” She smiles wearily, and I try to smile back.
But the foreboding will not leave my heart. Something is wrong with Olivia.
I ask Truffler and Piskel to keep watch over Vespa and Olivia. I still have my misgivings about Charles’s intentions.
And I admit I’d like to wander on my own for a little while. The sense of foreboding is lodged firmly in that dark place in my soul. I do not want to go to sleep for fear of what will be waiting when I close my eyes.
I distract myself with the Bone Palace. There is much to learn about this ivory maze and its broad halls. The fact that Charles allows us to roam it relatively freely surprises me, but then again as I see the servants watching me, I suppose his spies are everywhere. And I am not hard to spot.
It will be good to explore and try to do something useful to stop thinking about the dinner. While I think perhaps I could ultimately like Tesla, perhaps even learn from him, I’m not sure I can trust him with his obvious allegiance to Charles. And Charles . . . who knows what that snake is planning? He’s slipperier than an enchanted eel.
Bayne mentioned the palace is haunted, and it may very well be, but I’m more interested in knowing how its history is inscribed in its bones. To me, it’s a place of legend; I scarcely believed it could be real. And yet here it is—the Bone Palace of Nainai’s tales.
The deeper I pass within, the more I get the feeling that I’m traveling back through time. Eventually, I can see where the new additions of Wyvern motifs end and old Tinker architecture begins. Ximu had said she’d built this place at the foundation of the world, and I could believe it. But my people had made it not just a spider’s den but a palace of wonders.
Finally, I pass to where there are no everlanterns. It is nearly pitch-dark, except where the corridor opens out on terraces that overlook vacant courtyards. The moon is sailing overhead, and that naturally calls to the hound in me. For once, rather than shifting in anger or fear, I simply slide out of my human skin and into my fur and leap down the steps into the light. I chase at shadows, trying to pretend overcoming every darkness is this easy, when I feel something watching me. I catch a scent on the night breeze and turn.
A black wolf is sitting on the stairs. I stop and stare back at him, unsure as to whether he’s friend or foe.
He leaps down, and my hackles rise at his approach. He comes to me, ears erect, tail stiff. Closer and his scent washes over me. He is not entirely wolf. I have never met another of my kind before while I’ve been in houndshape. Certainly I’ve known that some must be out there, but I’ve never sought them out, afraid of a confrontation I didn’t want to have. This wolf seems merely curious.
And then he nips at my shoulder and takes off. I yelp, mostly in surprise rather than pain. When I look around, he’s waiting on me, tongue lolling. He bows, clearly inviting me to play, and dashes off.
I stare. Of all the things that have been strange these last few days, this is perhaps the strangest. And yet I can’t resist. I dart toward him, and together we run back and forth across the courtyard, our barks and growls echoing against the stone as we nip and leap and give chase, dancing between urns and statues, skipping through moonshadow.
At last we fall together into a heap of heaving sides and twitching paws. I rise up, desperate to ask who he is and how he came here.
He looks at me with one last amber gaze before he melts into darkness.
The hound slides away from me, and I’m left standing naked and cold on the courtyard stones.
“Who are you?” I say to the silence, though I’m sure I already know.
Nothing answers.