Flight Into Darkness (24 page)

“No!” Linnaius cried out, but even as the cry was torn from his throat, the dazzling fire died away and he saw Eugene slowly raise his hand and gaze at it, turning it this way and that. He sat up and tentatively touched his face, then his scalp.

He let out a triumphant shout. “Look, Kaspar. Look at me!”

Linnaius stared at the Emperor. Eugene was just as he had been before the disastrous battle in Azhkendir: unblemished again, miraculously healed by the Drakhaoul he had freed.

“Highness.” Linnaius ventured closer. “You—you've been restored.”

Eugene was smiling at him. “And this is all thanks to your dedication, my friend.” He held out his hand.

Linnaius hesitated, then took Eugene's outstretched hand and pressed it between his own, feeling the smooth sheen of the new skin. “Your highness honors me,” he said quietly.

The Emperor suddenly turned his head away as if listening to a voice Linnaius could not hear. Then he said, “The Drakhaoul of Azhkendir is coming. The rubies must have drawn him to Ty Nagar.” And as Linnaius watched, speechless, great shadow-wings unfurled from the Emperor's back. A creature of terrifying beauty stood before him: a daemon-dragon with scales that shimmered jade green, malachite, and gold in the sunlight.

The dragon flew to the top of the Serpent Gate and, hovering there, extracted the ruby eye with one of its talons. It tossed it down to Linnaius, who caught it, hugging it to him.

“I have unfinished business with Lord Gavril,” it called with the Emperor's voice. “I'll distract him while you take the rubies safely back to Swanholm.”

“Highness, wait, I beg you!” But the creature that had been Eugene turned and flew off toward the sea.

You've found the power you desired, imperial highness. But you've paid a high price for it,
Linnaius found himself thinking, as he made his way wearily back to the sky craft.
And now, where will it end?

As the sky craft rose slowly above the steamy warmth of the jungle, Linnaius sensed a sudden disturbance in the air. Gazing back down at the Serpent Gate far below, he saw a sight that made him shiver with terror, in spite of the oppressive heat.

The grey volcanic stone out of which the Gate was carved had begun to shimmer. Color was flooding through the twisted, agonized forms of the remaining three Drakhaouls, filling their wings and scaly bodies with vivid, jewel-bright ichor. As Linnaius watched, fascinated, he saw them begin to stretch their limbs, extending sharp-taloned fingers as though waking from a long sleep. One glimmered with the dark hues of an autumn twilight; a second burned fierce as a scarlet flame, while the third was so golden-bright that Linnaius could not look directly at it.

How had this happened? Eugene had summoned one Drakhaoul and one alone. Yet there was no escaping the fact that in replacing Nagar's Eye, even for so brief a time, he must have inadvertently set the others free from their stone prison.

In a sudden shudder of wings, they took to the air. Linnaius cowered in his craft as they streaked away overhead, like three fiery comets searing the deep blue of the sky.

“No,” Linnaius heard himself murmuring, as if a mere word from a magus could stop such powerful daemons. “What have we done, Eugene? What abominations have we let loose on the world?”

CHAPTER 11

Astasia wandered forlornly through the palace looking for Eugene. Exhausted, upset, and confused, she was determined to learn the truth about the sinking of the
Sirin.

The servants were yawning as they began the work of clearing away the detritus left after the last guests had departed: the empty ballroom was strewn with streamers, discarded dance cards, crushed flowers, and plates of half-finished food. The polished floor was puddled with spilled wine and melted ices. The lingering smell of stale alcohol and gunpowder fumes almost made her retch.

Why do I feel so sick? Have I eaten something that disagreed with my stomach?

No one had seen the Emperor and Astasia eventually found herself at the office of Gustave, Eugene's personal secretary.

“Imperial highness!” Even the usually meticulous Gustave looked a little the worse for wear, with a hint of stubble darkening his cheeks and chin. “Why didn't you send for me?”

“Where's my husband, Gustave?”

“He—” and it didn't escape her notice that Gustave faltered— “he's gone hunting.”

“Hunting,” she repeated incredulously. It was so obviously a pretext—but for what?
Does he have a mistress?
“You expect me to believe that after the celebrations last night he's gone hunting?” And then she felt the tears burning in her eyes again. It was unforgivable of Eugene to treat her, an Orlov, in that neglectful way. His indifference was too much to be borne! Too proud to let Gustave see her reaction
, she turned on her heel and hurried out without another word, only to run almost directly into a tall young officer in the uniform of the Imperial Household Guard.

“Are you all right, highness?” he said in concerned tones.

Blinking back her tears, she looked up and saw that it was Valery Vassian.

“Valery,” she said with relief, “I'm so glad to see a familiar face.”

“Your brother told me to look after you,” he said softly in their home tongue. “Shall I escort you back to your apartments?”

So Valery knew Andrei was alive. She put her hand on Valery's arm and let him lead her back through the hordes of sweeping and scrubbing servants. And as they walked, her anger at her absent husband began to grow. The
Melusine,
Andrei had said, would be sailing from Haeven—and a berth was booked for her. She glanced up at Valery and saw him blush and glance away. He had always looked out for her, even when they were children playing together at Erinaskoe, and she knew that his feelings for her were stronger than friendship.

Once safely back in her apartments, she sank down on a chair, all her energy exhausted.

“Can I get you anything: water, tea, coffee?” Valery offered. She pulled a face; even the thought of tea or coffee made her feel queasy.

“Valery,” she said, looking up at him pleadingly. “Will you help me?”

He didn't even hesitate. “Tell me what you want to do,” he said gallantly, “and I'll help you, no matter what.”

“I can't stay here a moment longer. I want to go to join Andrei.” She saw his eyes widen in surprise. “Valery, I shouldn't have asked this of you, I'm sorry—”

He went down on one knee before her. “I gave Andrei my word that I'd look after you and I never go back on my word. If that's what you wish, highness, then I'll make the arrangements straightaway. As discreetly as I can. Although until they've finished clearing up after the ball, no one will notice yet another carriage leaving the grounds.”

Astasia was so touched at his words that the tears began to flow freely. “Thank you, Valery, I promise I'll make this up to you …”

He took her hand and kissed it reverently. “Just to be near you, highness, that's all I ask.”

Celestine awoke to find daylight streaming into her room. “Too bright,” she murmured. Her vision was blurry and her head felt thick and heavy, too heavy to lift off the pillows.

“Awake at last!” Jagu's voice was so loud that it made her temples throb. She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Asleep? The Magus drugged you.” Jagu sat on the side of the bed. “Whatever possessed you to confront him on your own? You're lucky that he didn't do worse. And what's more, you've lost us our one advantage against him: the element of surprise. Now he'll be on his guard.”

“I hate it when you preach, Jagu…” She pressed her fingertips to her aching forehead. “Ahh, my head hurts.”

“Perhaps that'll teach you not to go charging in alone without making a proper plan.”

“I shouldn't have expected any sympathy from you.” She just wished he would stop talking and leave her alone to recover.

“Now's
the time to go back and investigate, when the servants at the palace are fully occupied clearing up after the ball and all the remaining guests are asleep or too drunk to care.”

“Now?” she said, reluctantly opening one eye. “In this condition?” She was still wearing the powder-blue shepherdess costume, only now its silky folds were crumpled and stained.

“I've ordered the carriage. We'll spin the guards at the gate some story about your leaving your music behind.”

Celestine tried to push herself up to a sitting position. To her surprise, he slipped his arm around her and propped the pillows up behind her. “I'll fetch you some strong coffee. Or would the demoiselle prefer tea?”

Celestine approached Kaspar Linnaius's door a fourth time. Jagu lurked downstairs, keeping watch. Each of her earlier attempts to break in had failed. The Magus's wards repelled her, sending unpleasant shocks shooting up through her hand and arm.

This time, she was determined not to fail.

No one had challenged them as they made their way toward the laboratory. All the servants were busy clearing up after the ball. Many of the household were wandering dazedly around as if still in a drunken stupor. But then, she was already well-known as the Empress's intimate companion. Why should anyone wonder what she was doing?

For this attempt she had taught herself an incantation from her father's grimoire, “To Break Down Mysterious Barricades.” After
checking that the corridor was empty, she murmured the words three times, knocking on the invisible door in the initiate's fashion.

Although she saw nothing alter, she felt the air ripple as though an invisible curtain had been drawn back. And when she raised her gloved hand to open the door, she met no resistance. The gloves were another precaution; Linnaius was almost certain to have left some trace of alchymical poison on the handles to snare the unwary.

The door swung inward. She entered, muttering the incantation again just for good measure. Warily, she went through the neat laboratory toward a second door, which had been left ajar.

A young woman lay on the bed. Her skin was pallid, her eyes open and staring, as if at some horror only she could see.

“Jagu!” Celestine cried. “Come quickly!”

CHAPTER 12

Jagu appeared in the doorway. “Sweet Sergius,” he muttered. “Is that a body? If so, we have more than enough evidence against him.”

Celestine knelt and held a glass to her lips. “Look,” she said, showing him the blurring made by the slight trace of breath. “She's alive.” She touched the young woman's shoulder. She shook her. “Wake up!” she cried. The young woman made no response at all.

“Alive, yet not alive,” said Jagu. “He's stolen her soul.”

Soul-stealer. Their eyes met, locked.

“Is Linnaius the one, after all?” Her throat had gone dry.

“Is he the one who killed Maistre de Joyeuse?” Jagu put her suspicions into words.

Celestine didn't want to have to think about that most painful of subjects; she needed to stay strong and focused on their task. She rose. “We have much to do. He could return at any minute. Let's take as much evidence from here as we can get in the carriage.”

“Are we just going to leave her like this?”

A sudden shaft of sunlight penetrated the Magus's laboratory, catching glittering fire in a glass case on his desk. Celestine shaded her eyes, wondering what was sparkling so brilliantly amid so many stoneware jars of alchymical substances and ancient, dusty volumes. “What is this, Jagu?” She went over to the desk. “Could it be… ?”

A device intricately engineered out of metal, wood, and crystal lay
within the case. It looked like a timepiece or a chronometer, and yet there was something familiar about it that tugged at her memory. “Is this my father's Vox Aethyria?” She had seen a device just like this in her father's study.
Don't touch, Klervie, it's very delicate…
warned a voice from the past, strong hands gently yet firmly removing her sticky fingers from the case.

She turned to Jagu. “We must take this with us.”

“It looks far too fragile.” Jagu had begun to pack books of alchymy into a trunk. “What is it?”

“It's a communications device. With this, our agents will be able to talk directly to the Emperor. Just imagine what an advantage this will give us in negotiations!” She lifted it, holding it close, sensing the faintest of vibrations within the sensitive mechanism.