Of Sea and Stone (Secrets of Itlantis) (21 page)

Allow approximately half of the survivors to escape
, it said.

We’d lived because of that line. Others had died because of it.

My fingers shook as I stared at the documents. Mist covered my eyes.

Thousands had died because of this order, because someone wanted us to think the Dron had attacked.

“What do they say?” Merelus asked.

My voice broke as I read it aloud. We sat in silence for a moment, and then he released a shuddering breath.

“Those bastards,” he said, every syllable hoarse.

The seal on the bottom caught my eye again—a triangle marked through with a slash.

“What is this symbol?” I asked, holding the document out for him to see. “What does it mean?”

Merelus shook his head. “I do not recognize it. I’ll have to look through the books in the Primus libraries—perhaps one of them can tell us.”

“Is it Arctusean?”

“See the triangle? It’s a personal crest. It’s linked to a family or a person, not a city. There must be hundreds of such crests.”

“I think we’ll find that it belongs to an Arctusean.”

Merelus shot a glance at me over his shoulder.

“They’re the only ones with a real vendetta against the Dron,” I argued. “Think about it. You were talking about peace. If they could make us think the Dron attacked again, peace would be incomprehensible.”

“They exacted a heavy price for their vendetta,” Merelus growled. “An entire city?”

I didn’t know what the Arctuseans thought was too high a price for vengeance.

WE DOCKED AT Primus several hours later. Merelus and I disembarked quietly, hoping to escape at once to the libraries.

But a party of diplomats apprehended us, swarming around us as soon as our feet touched the floor of the docking bay. Several of the faces in the party were familiar to me. I recognized Annah, the blind senator present at Merelus’s peace discussion a few weeks’ earlier. Her assistant stood at her side, whispering in her ear. Renus and his dark-haired assistant, Valus, were there too. He was not smirking today.

“Merelus,” Annah said, stepping forward. “I am so deeply sorry for the tremendous loss you have suffered, and we wish to grant you all the time you need to grieve. But we desperately need to deliberate so we can speak with the senate and present recommendations about our next actions as a nation in regards to the Dron.”

He exchanged a glance with me. “First, there is something I must do. I need a little time.”

“How much time?” This was Renus, the Volcanus/Magmus diplomat. “We need to strike back as soon as possible if we are to protect the other cities.”

“We need vengeance,” cried a diplomat wearing the pale-colored robes of Arctus.

“Just a little time,” Merelus said. “A few hours.”

Renus shook his head and muttered something to his assistant, Valus, who nodded and raised a hand to scratch his cheek as he listened. Something rattled on his wrist—a thick metal bracelet emblazoned with a symbol.

My heart sputtered to a stop when I focused on it.

A triangle marked with a slash.

The symbol from the document.

Valus seemed to sense my gaze, for he turned his head and looked directly at me. I averted my eyes, my pulse hammering.

My mind spun with questions. Did he know what I’d seen? What did he have to do with it anyway? Valus was a diplomat’s assistant—hardly someone who could engineer an attack on Celestrus. But did he have connections with someone who did?

And what did that symbol mean?

I grabbed Merelus’s arm and squeezed hard to get his attention. He turned to me, and I copied the actions of the other assistants and whispered in his ear while wearing what I hoped was an unreadable expression.

“Merelus, the assistant to the Volcanus diplomat. He’s wearing a bracelet with the same symbol as the seal on the documents!”

Merelus’s mouth tightened and his shoulders tensed. He didn’t look at Valus. His eyes bored into mine. “We need to find out what that symbol means before we prepare something to say to the senate. If we want to have proof, we need to get it now.”

I exhaled.

I knew what I needed to do.

Valus had already attempted to catch my eye several times. He was my age, or something close to it, male, and flirtatious by the looks of him.

A plan entered my mind.

“I’ll speak with him. I’ll find out what I can without arousing his suspicions.”

“Take him to the Celestrus garden spheres. They’re near the libraries, where I will be. When you’ve discovered what you can, meet me at the libraries in the center of the city,” he said. “Anyone can direct you to where they are. And hurry—we won’t have much time.” With that, he lifted his head to address the others.

“Please,” he said. “If I could have two hours to see to what I need to do—”

“One hour,” Annah said. “This cannot be delayed beyond that.”

Merelus gave me a piercing look. “I will find you again in one hour.”

I left his side and approached Valus. “Excuse me.”

He turned and regarded me carefully.

“I need help,” I said. “I need to find the Celestrus garden sphere.”

“I remember you,” he said. “You were at the last diplomatic meeting—the one that didn’t go so well. And now we meet under even more tragic circumstances.” He paused, examining my face closer.

“Yes,” I said, thinking of the symbol he wore on his wrist, the same symbol that was on the documents that ordered these tragic circumstances. Rage boiled in my veins, but I wrestled my mouth into a smile anyway.

Valus cut a glance at the Volcanusean diplomat and then took my arm. “The garden spheres are this way. Have you been to Primus before?”

“No.”

“I could have sworn I saw you at one of the parties here last year.”

I shook my head. “I’ve never been to Primus before.”

“Hmm,” he said, arching his eyebrow. “Well, I’m sure I won’t forget you again.”

~ ~ ~

The libraries were a multistoried column of levels at the top of the city, surrounded by the six garden spheres like the middle of a flower surrounded by petals. As we entered a glass-enclosed lift to take us to the libraries themselves, a pod of dolphins swirled around us, casting shadows over the ground like a flock of birds. The lift rose, leaving the dolphins behind, giving us a view of the sprawling city as we shot high above it to the pinnacle of the gardens and the libraries. Glass-enclosed arches led to each of the garden spheres.

People flooded the pathways that led to the Celestrus garden, a sea of black clothes and sorrowful faces. Some carried glowing orbs in their hands or wore gauzy black scarves over their heads or around their necks in mourning. Some sang softly, some wept; others hugged, sharing their grief. Beyond the weeping crowds, I saw a glimpse of the garden, a bit of fogged glass and a patch of green verdure.

My heart felt like a shard of ice in my chest. I sucked in a breath as pain splintered through me.

Celestrus was gone, and my friends with it.

The grief hit me afresh.

“Are you all right?” Valus asked, catching my arm. His forehead knit with polite concern.

“I’ve been better, but I’m managing.” I blinked and drew in a breath to focus myself on what had to be done. I needed to make small talk so I could ask him about the bracelet. I couldn’t think of anything. My eyes fell on this wrist again. I wet my lips.

Perhaps directness was the best tack.

“The bracelet on your wrist. It’s intriguing. What does the symbol mean?”

He smiled with half his mouth. “You’re observant. Most people don’t notice it.”

My heart pounded. A deflection. Would he answer my question? It was too late to take another tack now. I’d been stupid to ask him straight out. However, there wasn’t time for hours of teasing the information from him.

Valus touched the metal with his fingertips as I was silent. “It is my family seal,” he said finally, after a pause.

“Your family?” I repeated dumbly, and immediately cursed myself. I was approaching this conversation with the finesse of a thrashing fish.

Valus looked at me with amused shock. “Surely you know who I am?”

I hesitated, and then shook my head. I’d already played the part of a tongue-tied girl, so I might as well embrace it.

He laughed, a thin, startled sound that held no mirth. “And here I thought you had singled me out for my family connections, and I’m still not quite sure you haven’t. Can I trust you?”

My heart slammed against my ribs. I forced a laugh that mimicked his. “What kind of a question is that? Are you the son of one of the Primusean senators?”

I was joking—such a role seemed impossibly lofty—but his expression didn’t change.

“You’re the son of one of the Primusean senators?” I managed.

“Close,” he said. “My father is Arik Nautilus, the governor of Volcanus.”

My head swam.

Volcanus.

Not Arctus.

I needed to find Merelus at once.

“I need to sit down,” I gasped, seeking something to say.

He steered me toward a bench set between a pair of columns. Plants waved and danced around us, moving in the cool breeze of some unseen vent.

“You’re pale,” Valus observed.

“Some water, please.”

He left at once.

As soon as he’d vanished from sight, I stood and started for the exit.

I had to find Merelus.

~ ~ ~

Six levels filled with shelves and shelves of books and papers composed the libraries of Primus. Ladders lined the walls, granting access to the highest places. Spiraling staircases ascended at points around the room. Lines in the floor glowed, casting soft light over everything. The room was dark and hushed.

A woman in a long gray robe met me as I entered.

“Can I help you?”

I managed to give a description of Merelus, and she handed me a lantern and pointed me toward a row of shelves at the top of a curling staircase. I spotted a flutter of robes.

I hurried toward the staircase.

“Merelus!”

He turned. His eyes were alight with hope and fear.

I climbed the staircase two steps at a time. “He’s the Volcanus governor’s son,” I gasped.

Merelus’s face smoothed out as he absorbed this. He sank down to the steps of the staircase. “Governor Nautilus?”

“Yes, yes.”

He looked at me, and I could see in his eyes how this revelation had rocked him.

“This changes everything.”

~ ~ ~

We arrived at the diplomats’ room just as the buzz of their voices reached a crescendo. Half the room shouted at the other half. Diplomats threw their hands in the air or gestured at each other wildly. Merelus and I threaded through the madness, clutching books and papers under our arms, precious bundles that we needed for what we would say later.

For now, though, we needed to make sure everything went according to plan.

The room quieted as we entered. Faces turned toward us, expectant.

“I apologize for the delay,” Merelus said. “Please, let’s begin.”

A hand touched my arm.

“Are you all right?” a voice murmured in my ear. “Can I fetch you something to drink, perhaps? You never did get that water you requested earlier.”

I lifted my head and met the eyes of Valus.

His eyes narrowed. “You disappeared earlier. I was worried.”

He was suspicious. Did he know what I’d hoped to discover by asking about the bracelet? Would he try to stop us? Nervousness rioted in my veins.

“I’m sorry. I needed to be alone with my grief.” I said the last word like a snarl, and he took a step back.

The diplomats were standing and walking toward the door. My stomach pitched and rolled as if I had swallowed the sea.

It was time.

I joined Merelus, and Valus made no move to stop me.

He must not know our intent.

Merelus met my eyes and nodded once.

He was ready.

We boarded a lift with the other diplomats, a lift that would take us straight to the senate chambers. The walls were woven from golden wire, and colored glass gleamed behind it like a collection of jewels. The lift shuddered once, and then we were flying up, up, up as the city dropped away below us.

When the lift stopped, the doors opened to reveal a corridor lit with glowing tiles. Guards in gold armor lined the walls, holding spears across their chests.

At the end of the hall, a pair of golden doors waited for us, these ones carved with depictions of waves and coral. The doors opened noiselessly before we reached them, commandeered by more guards in shining gold armor, and then we entered a vast, round room.

Paintings of fish and whales covered a ceiling high above us, and smooth tiers of marble seating surrounded a raised dais in the center of the room. The first three tiers were already filled with men and women in robes of gold and white. The Senate of Itlantis. The ruling body.

Hundreds of other men and women occupied the rows behind the senate, wearing silks, jewels, and expressions of somber grief or restrained outrage. I assumed they were powerful citizens come to witness the proceedings. I spotted Dahn among the crowd, although he didn’t look at me.

The entire space was heavy with hush and silence, pregnant with power. My stomach twisted again with apprehension at what we were going to do.

The diplomats took their places at the seating closest the dais. One of the senators—“Senator Grimulus, Speaker for the Senate,” Merelus whispered to me—rose and asked for a moment of raised hands and silence to commemorate the dead.

A rustle filled the room as everyone raised their hands in memory.

My heart beat hard.

“We are gathered here to discuss the next course of action for our nation following this egregious attack on our brothers and sisters, the citizens of Celestrus,” Grimulus said following the silence. His voice filled the room. Heads nodded, and voices murmured softly.

Sweat broke across my hands. I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue.

Annah rose from her seat and ascended the dais.