Mirror Sight
Page 168
As the banks of the canal slipped by, it also occurred to Silk that she would make an excellent additional gift to the emperor. Silk’s immortality was all but assured.
THE BELLS OF MILL CITY
Karigan snarled and batted away the dark hands of the shadow beast that reached for her. She kicked and heard a very human grunt.
“Stop!” The shadow beast sounded like Cade. Was it a deception, or . . . ?
“Wake up,” he told her.
She opened crusty eyes, shivering as a layer of sweat cooled on her skin. Cade stood nearby, only a little blurry.
“You’ve been having nightmares,” he said.
Yes, nightmares.
Wan daylight pooled in from unshuttered windows. Karigan’s head pounded dully, and she felt as unrested as though she’d been fighting monsters all night.
“Too much morphia can do that,” Cade said. “Give you bad dreams.” She noticed he kept his distance.
“How are you doing otherwise?” he asked. “We’ll be meeting Luke soon to head out.”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Well, uh, Luke brought you an extra set of clothes from his son if you want a change.”
Karigan got up and staggered around the bunkhouse, bumping into beds and chairs as she readied herself for the day. Her head felt full of a pea soup fog, and she trembled from weakness. Cade looked like he wanted to offer his help, but to his credit he did not. Still, he watched her with an uncomfortable vigilance, and it was a relief when she made it into the privy and slammed the door behind her.
Afterward, Cade convinced her to eat some porridge and drink water before they left, but she managed only a little. When they met Luke by the wagon, he said to her, “You look terrible.” Then he added in a whisper, “All the better for our ruse, eh?”
Karigan ignored him and patted Raven, then climbed up into her place on the wagon. Already her fresh change of clothes was sodden with sweat. She could not stop shaking. She closed her eyes and napped fitfully as the wagon rumbled along the road. Sometimes she awakened to see the jagged rooflines of some town, its chimneys reaching for the heavens and soiling the sky with black smoke. Now and then they passed beneath a tall statue of the emperor, Amberhill in some heroic posture gazing into the distance.
After a time, their road paralleled a canal wide enough for odd, tubby boats to travel two abreast. They were propelled by what looked like mill wheels, starboard and port, and she wondered what everyone back home would make of it all. When she told them of her adventures and all she’d seen, would they believe any of it?
Now and then she became aware of the wagon stopping and of Luke being questioned. He always answered with cheerful aplomb and a level of charm she had never known he possessed. Papers were demanded, bribes given and received. Karigan once opened her eyes to find a man in Inspector red peering down at her, the eye lens of his Enforcer whirring at her. She had to clamp down a scream. Maybe it was all a nightmare. Maybe this whole future world was some sort of dream. She must still be in Blackveil. Surely she must, but the dream kept going on and on.
Cade woke her at midday, and she was sorry because she’d finally fallen into a more restful, dreamless sleep.
“It is time for a break,” Cade said, leaning against the tailgate of the wagon. Raven stood next to him and both watched her.
“Where are we?”
“Roadside tavern in Appleton.”
The name meant nothing to her. They were pulled to the side of the road with a couple of other wagons, next to a clapboard house with a sign that simply said, “Tavern.” Across the road, beyond a copse of trees, a canal gleamed. No boats passed by at the moment.
“Luke said he’d send out some food,” Cade continued. “I think he is enjoying his role a little too well.”
And no wonder, Karigan thought. His “servants” must wait outside for him while he took his time and dined in the comfort of the tavern. In the meantime, Karigan drank some water and stumbled her way to the privy, this time a simple shack that almost made her ill with the stench and flies.
The short walk back exhausted her. How was she to be of any help to Lhean, or herself for that matter, in this condition? She managed to climb up into the wagon without help, but just barely. She rubbed perspiration off her forehead.
Cade took little heed of her. He gazed toward the canal, but more into space than at anything in particular. When a bell rang a little ways back down the road toward the village, he tilted his head. The bell rang only once—the first hour of the afternoon. Cade then paced, not seeming to know what to do with himself. His agitation caused Raven to paw and side-step. Karigan spoke softly to the stallion to comfort him.
She asked Cade, “What’s wrong? Raven can tell something is bothering you, and it’s upsetting him.”
He paused and looked at her, his face ashen. “Whatever happens in Mill City from this hour forth is my responsibility.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“The rebellion has begun.”
Mirriam and Jax sat in silence at the table in Jax’s small cottage, taking tea. The sand in the hourglass trickled out, and Jax turned it over, starting the countdown of another hour.
They waited anxiously, straining to hear, but the city bells did not ring.
They stared at the hourglass transfixed as if willing the bells to ring, but they did not. Jax’s tea cooled untouched.
Finally, Mirriam could no longer help herself. “Is your hourglass accurate?”
THE BELLS OF MILL CITY
Karigan snarled and batted away the dark hands of the shadow beast that reached for her. She kicked and heard a very human grunt.
“Stop!” The shadow beast sounded like Cade. Was it a deception, or . . . ?
“Wake up,” he told her.
She opened crusty eyes, shivering as a layer of sweat cooled on her skin. Cade stood nearby, only a little blurry.
“You’ve been having nightmares,” he said.
Yes, nightmares.
Wan daylight pooled in from unshuttered windows. Karigan’s head pounded dully, and she felt as unrested as though she’d been fighting monsters all night.
“Too much morphia can do that,” Cade said. “Give you bad dreams.” She noticed he kept his distance.
“How are you doing otherwise?” he asked. “We’ll be meeting Luke soon to head out.”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Well, uh, Luke brought you an extra set of clothes from his son if you want a change.”
Karigan got up and staggered around the bunkhouse, bumping into beds and chairs as she readied herself for the day. Her head felt full of a pea soup fog, and she trembled from weakness. Cade looked like he wanted to offer his help, but to his credit he did not. Still, he watched her with an uncomfortable vigilance, and it was a relief when she made it into the privy and slammed the door behind her.
Afterward, Cade convinced her to eat some porridge and drink water before they left, but she managed only a little. When they met Luke by the wagon, he said to her, “You look terrible.” Then he added in a whisper, “All the better for our ruse, eh?”
Karigan ignored him and patted Raven, then climbed up into her place on the wagon. Already her fresh change of clothes was sodden with sweat. She could not stop shaking. She closed her eyes and napped fitfully as the wagon rumbled along the road. Sometimes she awakened to see the jagged rooflines of some town, its chimneys reaching for the heavens and soiling the sky with black smoke. Now and then they passed beneath a tall statue of the emperor, Amberhill in some heroic posture gazing into the distance.
After a time, their road paralleled a canal wide enough for odd, tubby boats to travel two abreast. They were propelled by what looked like mill wheels, starboard and port, and she wondered what everyone back home would make of it all. When she told them of her adventures and all she’d seen, would they believe any of it?
Now and then she became aware of the wagon stopping and of Luke being questioned. He always answered with cheerful aplomb and a level of charm she had never known he possessed. Papers were demanded, bribes given and received. Karigan once opened her eyes to find a man in Inspector red peering down at her, the eye lens of his Enforcer whirring at her. She had to clamp down a scream. Maybe it was all a nightmare. Maybe this whole future world was some sort of dream. She must still be in Blackveil. Surely she must, but the dream kept going on and on.
Cade woke her at midday, and she was sorry because she’d finally fallen into a more restful, dreamless sleep.
“It is time for a break,” Cade said, leaning against the tailgate of the wagon. Raven stood next to him and both watched her.
“Where are we?”
“Roadside tavern in Appleton.”
The name meant nothing to her. They were pulled to the side of the road with a couple of other wagons, next to a clapboard house with a sign that simply said, “Tavern.” Across the road, beyond a copse of trees, a canal gleamed. No boats passed by at the moment.
“Luke said he’d send out some food,” Cade continued. “I think he is enjoying his role a little too well.”
And no wonder, Karigan thought. His “servants” must wait outside for him while he took his time and dined in the comfort of the tavern. In the meantime, Karigan drank some water and stumbled her way to the privy, this time a simple shack that almost made her ill with the stench and flies.
The short walk back exhausted her. How was she to be of any help to Lhean, or herself for that matter, in this condition? She managed to climb up into the wagon without help, but just barely. She rubbed perspiration off her forehead.
Cade took little heed of her. He gazed toward the canal, but more into space than at anything in particular. When a bell rang a little ways back down the road toward the village, he tilted his head. The bell rang only once—the first hour of the afternoon. Cade then paced, not seeming to know what to do with himself. His agitation caused Raven to paw and side-step. Karigan spoke softly to the stallion to comfort him.
She asked Cade, “What’s wrong? Raven can tell something is bothering you, and it’s upsetting him.”
He paused and looked at her, his face ashen. “Whatever happens in Mill City from this hour forth is my responsibility.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“The rebellion has begun.”
Mirriam and Jax sat in silence at the table in Jax’s small cottage, taking tea. The sand in the hourglass trickled out, and Jax turned it over, starting the countdown of another hour.
They waited anxiously, straining to hear, but the city bells did not ring.
They stared at the hourglass transfixed as if willing the bells to ring, but they did not. Jax’s tea cooled untouched.
Finally, Mirriam could no longer help herself. “Is your hourglass accurate?”
