The soldiers marched for hours, until the slivered moon was high in the sky and Rémy could barely see through the shadows that surrounded her. She kept her eyes on the airship, flying low above the tree line, blocking out a trail of stars as it went. She was beginning to wonder whether the jeweled man and his troops were planning to march all the way to Pondicherry when a shout echoed through the foliage — a sharp order sent back from the front.
Rémy realized with a start that they had obviously reached their destination. She’d been so focused on keeping track of the airship and not making a sound over the uneven ground that she’d missed what was ahead of them. There, reaching above the dark mass of jungle, she could see walls looming into the sky, a luminous mass of white in the moonlight. They rose high above the forest — higher even, Rémy thought, than where the highest seat in the Cirque de la Lune’s Big Top had been, though not as high as her trapeze had flown on those nights that she had performed in front of the crowds. The wall stretched for a long way in either direction. In the center and on the ends of the wall were built large, square towers with domed roofs that were shining softly in the moonlight as if they were coated with silver. Beneath the domes, standing stiffly alert at their posts as they looked out over the forest, were soldiers armed with rifles.
Another shout, and the column halted so swiftly that Rémy almost walked into the back of the two men making up the rear. She darted behind the nearest tree, peering out as a loud creaking sound echoed into the night. Beneath the sentry post in the center of the wall, illuminated in the yellow glow from two huge torches pinioned either side of them, were two massive doors. Rémy watched as they slowly opened, and even from where she hid, she could see the glint of the metal spikes that studded the carved dark wood. There came another shout and the soldiers, led by the jeweled man on his magnificent horse, marched forward beneath the arch.
The airship lifted over the wall, and then dropped out of sight. The doors creaked again as they closed behind the last of the troops, shutting Rémy out — although not before she caught a glimpse of the airship, touching down amid the torrent of soldiers.
Careful to avoid drawing the gaze of the sentries, Rémy slipped closer. The jungle pressed right up against the walls, which seemed strange to her. Surely the best way of keeping such a place secure was to make sure that no one could approach without being seen, but as it was, Rémy made it all the way to one cold, white wall. When she reached it, however, she realized that the walls were not as featureless as she had at first thought. They were peppered with holes and cracks of varying sizes; the fractures pockmarked the surface of the wall with what looked like delicate lace in the moonlight, but that in daylight probably displayed themselves more like a series of ugly scars. They were the signs of fierce battle — each hole had been made by a weapon — by rifles, and in some cases, small canons.
This place was old and crumbling. The troops that had attacked the airship’s crew — whoever they were — were defending a relic that looked as if it should have been abandoned years ago. Still, Rémy thought, standing at the base of the wall and looking up it, good for me … She checked the sentries in their posts. They were still staring out over the forest, and the light cast by the torches at the gate did not reach far enough to touch her shadowed spot. Rémy took a breath and began to climb. Within minutes, the handholds provided by the wall’s battle scars had helped her reach the top. Rémy crouched there, barely even out of breath, her black clothes as dark as the shadows around her, and looked down into a well of golden light.
She’d expected a fort of some kind — an ugly, bare patch of earth crammed with low barrack buildings for the soldiers. But what Rémy saw was anything but ugly, even though it was as crumbling and ancient as the walls on which she now crouched. Within stood a palace of white stone, gleaming in the moonlight like one of the gems on its owner’s hand. Yes, some of the columns were crumbling with age, and there were signs of rifle strikes among the ornate carvings that decked its windows and its many roofs. Its domes — far larger than the ones over the clueless sentries’ heads — were dull gray instead of silver, but its beauty still took Rémy’s breath away. She wondered how many rooms there were within its inner walls. From here she couldn’t even count the windows, and there were at least four floors. It was magnificent, despite or perhaps even because of its age.
A sound drew her attention back to the vast courtyard in front of the palace’s steps. The airship had landed in the center, next to a carved stone fountain that must have run dry years before. Thaddeus was being dragged from the airship. He stumbled under his captors’ grip and was pushed to his knees, lined up in the dust beside Dita and J. Wordlessly, a soldier stepped toward each of them, drawing their curved swords and holding them at their necks. Anger swelled in Rémy’s heart as she saw Dita flinch and tremble as the cold metal touched her skin.
The jeweled man had slipped from his saddle, handing the reins of his horse to a servant who bowed deeply before leading the creature away. The man then circled the airship thoughtfully, disappearing from her view as he walked around the front and then reappeared at the propeller end. She saw that he had something in his hand — he was throwing it from one and catching it in the other as he walked, and it glinted with the reflection of the flickering light from the torches on the walls. Rémy almost gasped as she realized what it was. Her puzzle box!
There was a brief commotion as a new man entered the scene, descending the steps of the palace at a slow, dignified pace. Dressed in pure white, this man was older, with wisps of gray-white hair escaping the pagri wrapped around his head. He held himself regally, and as Rémy watched, she saw a ripple move through the assembled troops as he passed by — a straightening of the shoulders, a lifting of the chins. Clearly this man, too, held great power here, despite his lack of ostentatious jewelry. He stood before the airship’s nose, his hands clasped behind his back. He did not seem in the least impressed, but instead regarded the craft with something like contempt.
The jeweled man completed his circuit of the ship and moved to stand with the man in white. They conferred quietly for a few moments, apparently disagreeing about something, though only mildly. The older man eventually brought his hands in front of him, spreading his palms in a gesture somewhat like a shrug.
The jeweled man nodded once, and then turned to the silent soldiers still standing at attention in the rows they had formed after entering the palace gates.
“This,” he began, his deep voice echoing around the courtyard, “is a historic day, my friends. This — this!” He waved at the airship. “This magnificent ship of the air will change our fortunes and the fortunes of this great country forever. For too many years we have toiled without hope, dreaming of freeing all of India from the foul grip of colonization. Now, here, with the help of this marvelous contraption and the others like it that we shall build together — we will at last achieve our goals. Together, we will smite the British and their armies who ransack our land! We will take back our food, we will take back our cities and towns and villages! We will take back our sovereignty!”
A cheer rumbled up through the flickering torchlight, rolling over Rémy like a wave of thunder. The soldiers below all drew their curved swords, shouting and waving their weapons in the air until the glow of the glinting fire reflected in the blades was a blinding mass of light.
The man in white, Rémy noted, did not cheer. He stared straight ahead, his face impassive apart from, she thought, the slightest flicker of something that could have been fury. Although it was gone before it had ever really been there at all.
The jeweled man raised his hands for silence, and it fell as quickly as it had in the jungle when the tiger had stalked the chital. Rémy dared not move a muscle, perched as she was atop the wall. If any of them were to see her, there were a thousand ways for her to die at the hands of these men.
“Go now, to your duties,” the jeweled man ordered. “I must rest, for tomorrow is a new day, and it will dawn on a new era for us all.”
The troops, as one, bowed low to their leader. They moved off, some taking up posts around the great courtyard, others disappearing through a large arch on the far side of the palace that Rémy couldn’t see into but assumed was a barracks. Others still entered a smaller arch that framed a slope that led beneath the palace.
Rémy watched as Thaddeus, Dita, and J were pulled roughly to their feet. Thaddeus tried to say something, but one of the soldiers clubbed him roughly about the face with enough force that Rémy winced, feeling a fresh surge of fury burst through her. Thaddeus, stunned, did not try to speak again, and a moment later the jeweled man waved a peremptory hand. The three prisoners were dragged in the direction of the small archway that led into the palace foundations. She watched as they disappeared through it and out of her sight.
The courtyard was almost empty. Besides the four guards who circled the airship, just the jeweled man and the man in white remained. The jeweled man looked proudly at his new acquisition before tossing Rémy’s puzzle box into the air once more. He made a remark that made the man in white bow his head, as if in obeisance. Then he strode toward the palace steps, taking them two at a time and swishing through a door that opened for him as if by magic. After another moment of silent contemplation, the man in white turned and followed.