Luce VI: The Destroyer

  “How could I not see it?” Luce paced the floor of his cabin, not breaking eye contact with Charlotte. “This is Jethro all over again. Damn it!”

  “Jethro was who he said he was, in a way. You can hardly be blamed for not guessing he was a doppelganger.” Charlotte tried to keep herself composed, but it was obvious she was exhausted. Richard’s whip was coiled at her belt, more to keep it close than because they truly understood how to use it yet. “For that matter, you’d never laid eyes on Srin Sabine until this morning. I’m the one who didn’t recognize her in Carringdon.”

  She didn’t hold you captive, though, or slip you her copy of Olwen’s Song to pass the time. She didn’t kill Cassia in front of you, then fall to her knees in shock and guilt. “No wonder she was ducking my dinner invitations.”

  Charlotte cracked a smile at that. “She made a mistake exposing herself. I have her trapped with Rebecca in their cabin now. We can take her into proper custody as soon as we get that Cloak away from her. Ideally we’d also get that disappearing sword out of her hands. And whatever else she might have.” Charlotte held up her hand to her face, head drooping. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “And then what?” Luce couldn’t help but ask. “Do you have any proof but our recollections?”

  Charlotte’s eyebrows slanted downward. “You’re a prince of the blood. Surely your own testimony is enough.”

  “You know my reputation.” Luce frowned. “The issue isn’t even convincing the High Court Judge. I’m counting on Vas Sarah for the Jay votes on Father’s will. The Great Council won’t have the numbers to declare it legitimate without them.”

  “So tell her she was tricked, taken in by an imposter. She’ll be grateful to you.”

  “If she believes me.” Luce pulled out a book from his shelf, a history of Avaline Law he’d brought in preparation for assuming his rightful kingship, then changed his mind and returned it to the shelf. “We already clashed with Monfroy, twice now. How is it going to look if we’re throwing her star initiate in prison right afterwards? We need actual proof.”

  “If Vas Sarah finds out.” Charlotte flicked her thumb towards the window, gesturing in the direction of Monfroy’s metal prison. “There are other options. And it would spare us any risk of her escape.”

  “After she saved us?” Monfroy had earned his impending demise with everything he’d ever done, and there was no other practical way to dispatch him besides. Florette, though, after riding to their rescue? “Could you have stopped Monfroy without her?”

  Charlotte gritted her teeth. “I am well aware of my failures today. The blood of thirteen people is on my hands. That has nothing to do with this pirate.”

  “That pirate just cut off Monfroy’s head! What if she hadn’t come? We’d all be dead.”

  “That’s...” Charlotte shook her head, bewildered. “She held you captive. She murdered your cousin. If half the rumors are true, she was behind Gordon Perimont’s death, too, and all the mess that it made for you.”

  “She is,” Luce allowed. “But it was my choice to cover it up, one mistake of many in my tenure there.”

  “You—” Charlotte blinked. “You’re saying that Anya Stewart and Lilian Perimont were right? You countenanced and covered up the assassination of your predecessor?”

  “To avoid a war breaking out!” Luce threw up his hands, his pacing interrupted. “And I already said it was a mistake.”

  “Then don’t make it again. Don’t let Florette d’Enquin leave this place alive. We don’t even have to confiscate her artifacts, just keep her locked inside, ignorant, long enough for the D.V. bomb to go off.” The words emerged from Charlotte’s mouth, but it was as if a stranger had spoken them.

  “When did you become so cruel, Charlotte?”

  That offended her. “It’s cruel to stop your enemies? Was it also cruel when you had Agnes Delbrook hanged?”

  “After a trial! I didn’t trick her into sitting next to a bomb that would vaporize every cell of her flesh.”

  “Oh, that trial.” Charlotte let out a faint laugh. “I remember when you gave the order. Hang her. You didn’t ask me to arrest her, to prepare the courts. You wanted her dead, and everything else was a formality.” Could that really be true? I was only trying to save Carringdon. “How is this any different?”

  “Agnes Delbrook didn’t save my life.”

  “She didn’t murder your cousin, either.”

  “Shut up about Cassia! You never even met her.” Luce angrily knocked a pile of papers off his desk. “You weren’t there... when she died. I was. I saw everything. Florette knocked on the door, asking us to surrender. Cassia burst it open and threw a dagger into her shoulder...” And knowing what I know now... “That was only because Harold set us up. They’d have never found the ship otherwise. He’s just as responsible as she is. As I am.”

  “That’s why you shouldn’t be saving him!” Charlotte erupted, her professional facade finally cracked. “There comes a point when virtues twist to vices, Luce. A big heart full of forgiveness does not mean you need to let thieves and murderers roam free. And if you let her go, she’s only going to cause more problems for you later. She needs to die. Today.”

  Is this really about Florette the pirate, and not my brother? Luce took a deep breath, trying to let his rage subside. “That’s not the kind of king I want to be.”

  Charlotte straightened her posture, her breathing slowing to match his. “What alternative is there?”

  “We need to be pragmatic about this. Let me feel out Sara, find out if there’s any proof she’d need beyond my word. We can’t afford to antagonize the Jays right now.” Luce paused. “Florette doesn’t know that you know, right?”

  “I don’t... think so.” Charlotte paused, considering the question. “She’ll suspect it. I asked her about ‘Diced Digits’, a pirate game she taught me in Malin, which she might have realized was—”

  “You knew her in Malin?” Luce blinked, trying to think back to those days usually better left forgotten.

  “Briefly,” Charlotte answered. “And not under her own name. Remember Leclaire’s ‘bodyguard’ named ‘Céline’?”

  “Right.” From before I’d arrived, when I was still stranded with Eloise. Camille had twisted that tale into a wicked lie for Simon, and she’d done it right in front of Luce. How did I ever think I could work with her? Had he truly been that stupid? “How well did you know her?” Luce asked, trying to move away from his own follies.

  A deep scowl traced its way across her face, oddly discordant with the hint of red in her cheeks. “Not well. We met at one party, then she disappeared. I think I could smooth it over if I had to, make it seem like a coincidence. She hasn’t officially been put under arrest.”

  “Then do it,” Luce ordered.

  Reluctantly, Charlotte nodded. “And what about Rebecca? She could be compromised.”

  Anyone could be compromised. Monfroy had posed as a child, with no way to recognize it until he revealed himself. Florette of Enquin, a half-forgotten ghost, just emerged from a nondescript Jay and cut off his head right in front of me. It was beginning to seem as if absolutely anything could happen, and precious little of it could be planned for. “Nothing, for now. Her only job today is pressing a button, and there’ll be eyes on her the entire time; she could hardly sabotage that. As far as information, she already knows everything sensitive about the experiment. You can figure out how much she knows about ‘Sabine’ when we get back to Cambria.”

  “Yes,” She frowned, but nodded her head. “Your Highness.”

  ?

  Somehow, it only took a few hours to reset everything back to where it needed to be. For all of Lord Monfroy’s grandstanding, he hadn’t actually done any meaningful damage to the experiment itself. Aside from the lives he took, at least.

  If Luce had never set Monfroy up through the Charenton journal, they might still be alive. And Monfroy would still be free, unconstrained from killing far more over a longer period of time. Exposing him wasn’t something worth regretting, nor feeling guilty about. Charlotte would say the same, obviously, but Luce didn’t even need to talk to her to understand that.

  Still, I mustn’t forget what it cost. Especially since it had nearly been so much worse.

  Lizzie Stewart had barely moved since the end of the attack, sitting on a rock a ways away from the test site and staring out at the moors. His technical preparations complete, Luce found himself walking towards her. She didn’t even react until he sat down on the rock beside her.

  “If I might have a moment alone, Your Highness.” Her skeletal hand was pressed flat against the rock, white bone standing out amidst the grey.

  “I’ll go if you ask me to,” Luce allowed. “But we’re done setting up for the test. You’ll need to follow us to the bunker when we depart.”

  “You’re still doing the test?” She snapped her head around, baffled. “After everything that happened?”

  “He doesn’t get to take that away from me,” Luce answered coldly. He already tried to drive a wedge between my brother and me by leading Harold to Father’s secrets. We survived that, and if this test goes well, he’ll survive Father too. “Don’t let him take anything more from you, either.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Hah!” Lizzie tilted her head back, sandy brown hair catching the wind. “What’s left to take? Sir Reynard’s been protecting me since I was in swaddling clothes, and that Richard brute tore him apart so badly I couldn’t even recognize him. I didn’t know his squire Frederick as well, but by all accounts he was a good lad. I ordered them to their deaths, Your Highness.”

  “You have nothing to feel guilty about. I gave the same order with twice the count and no survivors. Monfroy gave us no choice, and getting loyal guards out of his sight was our best hope of stopping him anyway. If we hadn’t, Charlotte couldn’t have stopped Richard, and we might all be dead right now.”

  “A convenient excuse.” Her carefully neutral expression curled into a frown. “But I do understand what you mean. Sir Reynard always knew that duty might call upon him to die for me, and I doubt he did so with any regrets. It doesn’t change the fact that my life is over now.”

  “I thought the same thing after Leclaire drove me out of Malin,” Luce confessed, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. “A failure, a laughingstock, the only example anyone would need to point at to justify a more brutal occupation. People say worse about me now, but after taking control of Charenton, I’ve seldom had to worry about them saying that. And you have nothing to atone for.” Save inviting Montroy along in your retinue, perhaps, but I can hardly blame you for not suspecting that he was posing as his own son. Luce might not have made that particular mistake though, knowing what he did.

  But Lizzie only shook her head. “I’m not concerned about that. Monfroy will take all the blame for this, and deservedly so. Knowing your reputation, you might catch a bit of blowback too, but I can’t see it affecting me. That’s not the problem.” She drummed her bony fingers against the rock, wincing as they moved. “I’ve been touched by the spirits, no longer fully human.”

  Ah, that’s it. “I read that Eulus branded his sages with crackling, electric eyes to set them above other humans.”

  “Sages?”

  Right. “Cultists. I know Eulus wasn’t the only one, either.”

  Lizzie nodded glumly. “But he’s the one who fought Harold Grimoire, so he’s the one who ends up in your books.” She held up her hand, letting the wind whistle through the bones. “Our memories aren’t so short up north. Less than a century ago, those cultists were hunted down and burned alive. Even before that, it’s been a mark of ill portent, a sign that you’ve been cursed to draw the attention of the monsters.” She set her hand back down. “Gary made a failure of himself in Malin; my mother was exiled for doing even worse; Wallace has held our seat in the Great Council for five years and he still doesn’t have a single leadership position, not even a committee. I was the last hope for the Stewarts, and now that’s all over.”

  Briefly, Luce was taken aback. Why would she tell me that? How would it benefit her for me to know? She had only allowed him use of this land in the first place so that she could try to ascertain secrets about the DV bomb, he was sure, whether it was for Harold or merely herself. Once he shifted his thinking from politics to humanity, though, it was far easier to understand. You’re unburdening your woes.

  Luce wasn’t sure how to deal with that, exactly. Camille would say to exploit the weakness, to try to manipulate this low moment into support. Charlotte might instead advise caution, holding himself back from saying anything that could be used against him. Harold would probably lean in to kiss her or something, and somehow get away with it too.

  Instead, Luce lifted his eyepatch, revealing the deep blue color of the scar Levian had left him. “It’s your life, Lizzie. It ends when you say it does, and not a moment before.” He flipped the eyepatch back down, then pulled off his right glove and handed it to her. “Tell anyone who needs to know that you were burned. It healed, but you’d rather avoid showing the scar.”

  She examined the glove skeptically, then darted her eyes towards Luce’s face. “Is that what you said?”

  “I didn’t say anything. Charlotte was there; she already knows. And it’s considered polite anyway, when you lose an eye.” And now that I’ve told you, that knowledge might make its way out into the wider world, another demerit for the evil Prince of Darkness. Somehow, that didn’t bother him. “But maybe you shouldn’t hide it. Own it, like I took ownership of my epithet.”

  “What, walk into Cambria with a skeletal hand and petition the Prince? Arrange the trade deals with southern merchants while looking like this?” She waved her hand in front of him as if that alone would prove her point.

  “All I know is that I’m sick of hiding. We have nothing to be ashamed of. But it’s up to you.” He offered his hand. “But we should really be getting back.”

  Hesitantly, she accepted it, her bony fingers cold and dead against his flesh. Immediately, she ripped it free. “My apologies, Your Highness.” She slipped on the black glove, then fell into step alongside him. By the time they reached the bunker, she’d composed herself enough that there was no trace of despair left in her face.

  From the bunker, all that was left was arming and detonating the DV bomb through the mile of wire they’d laid. A simple electrical signal would travel through the copper until it reached the detonation mechanism, tuned to flash at the resonant frequency of the Nocturne Gate. As soon as the bomb detonated, its energy would force the Gate open just enough to get a glimpse of the other side. Closing it again would be much simpler, from the calculations they’d done, only requiring a slight jostle out of its new equilibrium to return to its natural, closed state.

  The chances of a resonance cascade, where the energy aligned with the gate continued indefinitely, were so small as to be disregarded in the first place, yet Luce had still taken precautions. There was nothing left now but to make his announcements and begin the experiment.

  “I want to begin with a dedication to the fallen: Oliver Laurent, Laq Idun, Porro Helswath, Michael Flume...” Luce continued the list, thirteen names in all, including Ronald Esterton and the two Stewart guards killed by Monfroy’s manservant. There would be a service for them in Forta, but none of the Shadows who’d perished called this place home, so their remains would be returned to their families to do with as they saw fit. “Monfroy perpetrated an unspeakable evil upon our ranks, for which he paid the ultimate price.”

  To avoid any potential complications with the courts, the official narrative would be that Monfroy had died upon decapitation, an immediately necessary act to defend everyone there from his wrath. Nearly everyone here had seen otherwise, but none were eager to haul his box south for a trial, especially when he might still have agents who’d attempt to free him.

  A few nervous snickers emerged from the crowd of shadows, but no one contradicted his words.

  “He tried to stop us because he feared what we could accomplish.” And for personal revenge. “Even Monfroy, in the depths of his depravity, believed we would succeed. And he was right about that much. He also believed he could stop us, and all of us proved him wrong!” Luce held up his fist as the shadows began to cheer, though Stewart and her guards remained impassive.

  “On the other side of that gate stands an entire new world, rife with untapped energy.” And disconnected enough from Terramonde, I hope, that we can save Harold from Father when I slam the door shut. “This is but the first step of a wholesale revolution to our technology, our industry. Generations will live and die in the shadow of what we started today.

  “The Nocturne Gates have stood untouched for one hundred and twenty-three years. Even when the Great Binder sealed them herself, it was not without great cost. Today, we prove that we have nothing to fear from the other side if we simply manage the risks. Today, we take the first steps towards unlimited energy. Today, we make history!”

  Luce elided the most important parts of the truth, just he’d planned to, but it grated; in the face of what Monfroy had done, it seemed inadequate. They deserved to know what their brothers and sister had died for. Even Lizzie deserved to know why she’d been maimed.

  They already took their best shot at us, and they failed. All that remained was seeing things through. “Begin countdown at sixty seconds.” The timer activated with a satisfying electronic chirp.

  Rebecca flipped open the cage around the switch and pressed the button down. “D.V. is armed.” Her tone was colder than usual, almost certainly because her paramour had been sent away, but that didn’t necessarily speak to any disloyalty.

  At thirty seconds, Russel read out the results of the dial in front of him. “Detonator holding steady at 440, 880, and 1760.” He looked satisfied with the result, eager to finally pay off all the work he’d put in. “Stable at resonant frequency.”

  Luce stepped up to the console they’d assembled, a mess of lights and switches, and inserted his key into the cage of his own button. He turned it, then lifted the cage in one fluid motion.

  Above the console was a viewport, barely larger than his head, padded with six layers of carefully tinted glass. Even looking at the explosion through all of that would have risked blinding them without the black goggles they were all wearing to further mute the impact of the flash they were creating. For once, it meant he didn’t have to wear an eyepatch, though he still had three in his coat pockets just in case.

  In the distance, so obscured by the layers of darkness that it was practically imperceptible, was the Nocturne Gate, little more than a speck on the darkened horizon.

  “Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six...”

  Luce placed his thumb over the button.

  “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

  He pressed down on the button. “Detonation.”

  The flash cut through all of the darkness, twice as bright as he’d planned for. Only the Nocturne Gate’s silhouette interrupted the bright flash still lingering in his eyes, pulsating and vibrating wildly enough to be visible even from here. A single white dot penetrated the Gate’s overwhelmingly dark circle, just to the right of the center, remaining in place as the rest of the flash dissipated.

  Luce screwed his good eye shut, trying to avoid any damage, but the image lingered. Somehow, it was even getting clearer—the Gate was growing, swelling to twice its diameter, then twice again. As it expanded, the color began to shift, impenetrable black to a softened sable.

  We didn’t plan for that, but it shouldn’t be an issue.

  For a moment, he thought he was looking at Cya’s wasteland once more, for the husks of long-dead trees were just as plentiful, hardened to dark brown and stripped of their leaves, but they lacked the white traces of the blight. A great river was flowing far below, closer to the blue than purple in the dim light, with snowy mountains arcing into the sky on either side.

  A whole other world, unseen by human eyes. Untouched by human hands. Ripe for the taking.

  A way to save Harold’s life.

  Luce tried opening his eye, and found that the searing flash had mostly faded. At the moment the Gate surpassed the size of the one on Ortus Tower, Luce rolled the dial to destabilize the frequency. After a few seconds, his view of the dead forest subsided, replaced by the monolithic black Gate, successfully closed.

  I told you we wouldn’t have to worry about a resonance cascade.

  Despite his confidence, Luce felt himself laughing with relief. Once he broke the silence, the rest of the room released the breath they’d been holding. “Russel, check the battery readings.”

  Russel bent down, examining the cells he’d assembled to siphon power from the other side once the gate cracked open. “3.6.” He frowned, seeing the panel smoking from a short. “That’s what it froze at when the cells were overloaded.”

  “Martins?” That would be so minimal it’d more likely result from instrument error than any successful power sapping, most likely from the short that caused the smoke.

  “3.6 Million Martins.” Russel started to laugh. “3.6 Million! I felt like a fool even building out the display that far. No wonder it fried the battery.”

  Luce felt the smile overtake his face. “We could power all of Cambria with that.” He turned towards the other scientists and raised a defiant fist. “Success!” Erelong, the room was filled with laughter and cheering, erupting even stronger when Luce signalled for the sparkling wine to be brought out.

  Charlotte remained off to the side, hesitant to join in.

  We’ve debated before, but it’s seldom become an argument like that. No wonder she’s reluctant. But Luce, for one, was not going to let Florette of Enquin spoil the moment. “Come over here,” he beckoned. Once Charlotte was close enough, he pulled her close and whispered into her ear. “Did you see the world on the other side? Did anyone?”

  “Do you think everyone would be so calm if they did?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Wait, did you?”

  Luce smiled, not answering the question. Not with the eye I have left, but the one that was taken. Beyond the power, it was a way to save Harold, finally within his grasp.

  “What?” Charlotte matched his smile anyway. “What did you see?”

  “You,” he answered, then pulled her into a kiss, not caring who saw it.