Adrin

Instead of practicing with the Ethereal Guard or working in Dacrine’s workshop, Adrin had a meeting with Queen Irezan and Princess Jocyanë first thing in the morning. They met in the royal family’s private library around a table where a map had been laid out with each and every seal marked.

“We’ve had messengers now from as far as Bulrisa. That’s six seals accounted for,” Jocyanë said. She added a marker to the map, then pointed at the marks for two seals in the Eastern provinces. “I think if either of these had broken, either someone would have come for us by now, or everyone’s already dead and there’s no one left to cry for help.”

Jocyanë had marked the seals they’d confirmed were dormant with blue stones, but there were still so many seals they didn’t know about. Clusters of unknowns radiated out from the gray void labeled Bhadrat. One of those seals, Adrin knew, lay less than a mile from his parents and sister.

“Official death toll is now eighteen,” said Queen Irezan. She sat next to her only child, reading from a report. “Twenty-two if the accident report from Mother’s dream can be corroborated.”

They’d agreed it was best to say Zafrys was the source of the information that she and Adrin received in their consultations with Naomi. Prince Vaclan didn’t seem to fully trust his mother, either, but at least he didn’t question every word out of her mouth. Fortunately the prince was absent from the palace, having returned to Suthmin to check on the military’s repair projects there. Zafrys was also absent from this early morning meeting, leaving Adrin alone with his betrothed and her mother.

Adrin took the casualty list from Queen Irezan and read the names and ages of the victims of accidents caused by the failures of various devices. The worst incident was the collapse of the scaffolding at a building undergoing some repairs, which had killed eleven people. All of their deaths weighed on his conscience, and they still didn’t know what had happened in Namai, most of the eastern provinces, or anywhere south of the Allavoy River, except for places where Naomi had been.

“What’s the timeline on restoring the spine?” Jocyanë asked Adrin. Supervising the restoration of the linecar had become his responsibility, and top priority was the central north-south line that connected Thaliron to Norana. Once that was up and running, it would be possible to get to anywhere except Namai in less than a week’s travel. And Namaians preferred to take care of themselves, anyway.

“Well, the test run to Gradalla went smoothly, so that’s a good omen for the rest.” Adrin traced the line on the map from Thaliron to Gradalla with his finger. “So long as they don’t run into any more unexpected issues or physical damage, Sudriff says they can have the line running as far as Bulrisa in nine days.”

He followed the line south to Bulrisa, situated near the center of the map at the crossroads of Elorhe. At Bulrisa, the Allavoy River drained into the gulf that cut deep into the continent, dividing Elorhe into its northern and southern regions.

“But that’s the optimistic case. What if things don’t go as smoothly as he hopes?”

“He didn’t want to commit to it, but I got the sense it was going to be at least two weeks if he’s not able to split his teams and send some of them ahead. We don’t know if they’ll come across any more physical damage, either.” He put his copy of Sudriff’s report onto the ocean to the east of Thaliron, and Jocyanë immediately picked it up to leaf through it herself.

“Sounds like there’s nothing to delay your trip, then,” Irezan said. “It’ll be good for both of you to get away from Thaliron for a little while. Don’t hurry back. Get some fresh air, and have a nice time together.”

Adrin gave the queen a quick, tight-lipped smile. He was beginning to think he could count Queen Irezan as an ally. She’d taken some time to warm up to him, understandably preoccupied by her husband’s condition, but then she’d started to speak up—though quietly—on his behalf at family conferences. He wasn’t sure if he had Zafrys to thank for that, or the queen’s own intuition, but he was grateful for her support. Unfortunately, her voice was seldom loud enough to be heard over the raised voices of others.

“And if something goes wrong with the linecar?” Jocyanë asked.

“The crew will be alert for any issues, and we’ve got the manual override braking system to fall back on if we need it.”

“Well then, I suppose there’s no point putting off the inevitable.” Jocyanë sighed and put down the report, as if she were sorry she’d failed to find a reason for further delay. “Do something about your hair before you come meet us in the entryway.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Why did she have to keep doing that? It wasn’t the words she said, but how she said them. He could imagine Naomi saying those exact same words, smiling, poking fun at him. When Jocyanë said them, he heard her meaning loud and clear: “try not to screw this up, but you’re probably a lost cause.”

He ought not to even make that sort of comparison, Adrin thought as he went back to his rooms to make final preparations. But he suspected that Jocyanë was making comparisons, too. Every time she looked at Adrin, she probably thought about all the ways that he didn’t measure up to Raen Semfrey.

Adrin had been able to learn a little bit more about Raen from the Ethereal Guard, but Jocyanë refused to say a word on the subject. Because it was too painful, or because she couldn’t bear to speak about anything with Adrin except for official business?

Adrin picked up his comb and the pomade Sefoni had brought for him and looked at himself in his bathroom mirror. It wasn’t a fair comparison. Raen was dead, and Naomi was alive. Talking to her in his dreams, every night, meant that they had an unavoidable level of intimacy, and he needed to be careful. Better to banish her from his mind from the day.

He smoothed the pomade into his hair before combing it flat. He hated the greasy feel of it, hated how it left a residue even after he washed it out. But he didn’t want to cut his hair short. In the portrait he’d seen of Raen, the young man had cropped his curly hair close to his head, though Adrin couldn’t say whether or not that had to do with Jocyanë’s insistence on neatness.

Adrin expected to see three members of the Ethereal Guard waiting to escort him and Jocyane to the station. Instead, there were four, all waiting in their customized suits of ceram armor. The unexpected addition to the party was Sangar, who moved about constantly, like a child eagerly awaiting his first linecar ride. Beside him stood his uncle Reidas, still and solid; a human mountain whose armor added to his formidable silhouette.

Farn was silent as usual, though he nodded to Adrin in greeting. His role was to listen for anomalies in the ambient field that might signal sabotage or attack. After training with Farn and Tsachrian for more than a week, Adrin felt that he understood even less about corsynity than he did when he started. It was one thing to be able to see the patterns in the currents, and another thing entirely to interpret them. He would probably never understand the endless subtleties, but since there didn’t seem to be a way to achieve that understanding without living in a constant state of quiet receptivity, Adrin could accept some level of ignorance.

And then there was Suzari, barely taking a moment away from her friendly conversation with Jocyanë to glance at Adrin. She wasn’t openly hostile anymore, but he suspected she wouldn’t shed a tear if he fell the first time they had to face a construct.

“What did you do to your hair?” Sangar seemed to pop up out of nowhere to lean over his shoulder. “You’re starting to look like that loser.” He aimed a thumb back at his uncle, who always wore his hair slicked back.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Adrin asked. For some reason that set Sangar off in a peal of hysterical laughter.

“Oh, no, you’ve got to work very hard to get your hair to look that bad,” he said.

“We can still leave you behind, little squirrel,” Reidas hollered at his nephew.

“Like to see you try,” Sangar said. “I’ll race you to Gradalla if you don’t let me on the linecar. Wait. That’s a great idea. You know what, don’t let me on the linecar. I want to race you to Gradalla.”

Reidas grabbed Sangar by the back of the collar to keep him from dashing off that very moment. Reidas was the only member of the Ethereal Guard who was taller than Adrin, only by an inch or two, but he still seemed to tower over the prince.

It was no wonder Sangar couldn’t keep still. Now that Adrin got a closer look at his armor, he could see how the channels must constantly feed energy to the muscles in his legs, filling him with the urge to run. Naomi told him about feeling the same way, charged up with energy that demanded to be used.

Together they walked to the station where Adrin had disembarked not so long ago and made the decision that set his life on its current path. A crowd had gathered around it to see them off, but Adrin had never seen the inside of the station so empty. Sangar ran the length of the concourse, leaping from one platform to the next and then back again to join them as their train approached. Suzari stepped behind him and mimed pushing him onto the track, and Jocyanë laughed.

The Ethereal Guard’s linecar had only one cabin, but it was a luxurious one. Adrin had only ridden in general admission cars before, riding on hard benches that were usually crammed full of people. The plush seats in this cabin wouldn’t have been out of place in one of the palace sitting rooms, and they faced each other in clusters of four, with a table in the middle of each set.

Apparently Sangar had never been in this linecar before, either. “Dang, this is nice!” he cried. “I’m going to see if I can get us some snacks.”

“They’re not serving snacks. We’ll be there in less than half an hour.” Suzari removed her sword for her belt before sitting down in the frontmost seat, her weapon on the table in front of her.

Sangar settled down in the seat across from her and reclined. “It’s so comfortable. Look how far back it goes!”

“You’re on duty,” his uncle admonished him. “Don’t embarrass me, after I put my neck out to bring you on this ride.”

“Let him relax,” Suzari said dryly as the linecar began to move out of the station. “Otherwise he’ll be running up and down the aisles and driving us all crazy.”