The Rebellion (114 page)

As if I had spoken my question aloud, Zadia pointed straight ahead. Only then did I see that there was something
in the center of the foyer. That the monument was constructed of glass prevented its being solidly visible.

“Are you all right?” Zadia asked, laying a hand on my shoulder.

“I am,” I said.

I went forward, and when I was close enough for the glow light to reach the monument, it suddenly took on a brilliant life, its many facets catching the light and throwing shimmering knives to illuminate all corners of the massive foyer. Now I could see flat soaring walls set with metal plates, and an ornate, vaulted ceiling high above. The foyer took up the entire floor of the building, and its only furnishings seemed to be the monument and a table constructed of the same stone as the floor.

I walked forward, stopping only because I noticed that the ground around the plinth sparkled with millions of slivers of broken glass, and my feet were bare. A splintered crack ran its full length, branching off to where the head had been fixed.

Zadia murmured that the monument had probably been damaged when the upper stories of the building were torn away. It was a miracle the foyer had not been destroyed and the statue crushed. There was no doubt in my mind that this would happen when the airlock failed.

I walked around the statue.

As Zadia had described, it was the figure of a young woman encircled by what looked to be some sort of snake. But when I saw its head, I sucked in a breath of astonishment, for surely the serpentish beast was an elongated dragon! But rather than being given a threatening mien, the dragon was curled about the woman’s figure protectively, and one of her hands rested gently on its scales.

My hands
, I thought, and shivered.

The remainder of the glass was carved into a seething free-form mass of beasts that reminded me of the shawl Maryon and the futuretellers had made.

“It is very beautiful,” Zadia murmured. “It is a pity it cannot survive, but I am glad to have seen it.”

I took a few careful steps forward and studied the workmanship. Being created of glass, it was difficult to compare the style with that of a stone or wood carving. It seemed as much melted into shape as chiseled, but I felt fairly certain that the artist had not been Kasanda. There were similarities, but the work was raw and unpolished compared to the mastery revealed in the doors of Obernewtyn or in the Earthtemple reliefs. It was as if a talented student had emulated a master.

“There is the name of the piece,” Zadia said, pointing to a glass plaque set into the floor.

I read: “Through the transparency of now, the future.” Beneath this, in smaller lettering, were other words, and I knelt down to make them out. They read: “For one who has the courage to see what will come, and hope.” Under this dedication, in still smaller lettering, was the name of the monument’s creator: Cassy Duprey.

Cassy. I thought of the dark-skinned girl from my dreams. She had been an artist.

There was a slight creaking sound, and I looked up at Zadia in alarm.

“We should not stay too long,” she said, looking around uneasily. “It is not safe in here.”

I had an image of the airlock giving way before a great dark gush of water that would smash the monument into lethal spikes of glass. But I refused to let fear hasten my examination
of the monument. I knew I would never have another opportunity.

Fian’s translation of a line of Kasanda’s message came into my mind: “That key which must be [used/found] [before all else] is [with/given/sent to?] she who first dreamed of the searcher—the hope beyond the darkness to come.”

Surely the plaque was a paraphrasing of these very words, and if so, whomever the statue was dedicated to—the “one who” saw the future—was also the “she” referred to in Kasanda’s message. And if the creator of the statue and dark-skinned Cassy of my dreams were one and the same, then it was almost a certainty that the “she” in question was Hannah Seraphim.

The trouble was that even if I could guess that Hannah had possessed some key, I was still no closer to learning its whereabouts.

Unless the key was somehow contained within the monument.

A thrill of excitement ran through me at the thought that Cassy might have sent the key to Hannah—perhaps secretively, given that Govamen must have been watching Hannah closely.

I circled the monument for the seventh time, searching for niches and crannies. Unfortunately, if anything was concealed in or on the statue, I could not find it.

I froze as a long, ominous cracking sound rent the silence, followed by the sound of something snapping. Then all was quiet again.

“Elspeth …,” Zadia said anxiously.

I glared at the statue helplessly, willing it to reveal its secrets; but it remained transparently beautiful, utterly mute. There was another creak, and cursing under my breath, I
turned to Zadia and nodded my readiness to go. Looking infinitely relieved, she grabbed my hand and all but dragged me down the steps to where the air hoses were fixed. Thrusting one at me, she pulled her own about her neck and positioned her goggles. I did the same, all the while looking back longingly toward the nearly invisible statue. Zadia swam ahead, looking relieved to see me emerge through the metal doorframes. We swam back through the trees and along the black road, following the horizontal rope, collecting glow bulbs as we went. Watching the teknoguilder remove her belt and lay it in a weighted basket attached to another rope, I was already regretting that I had let fear pull me from the foyer.

Zadia gave me a look of inquiry, and I realized she was holding on to the rope and waiting for me to remove my weight belt. I did so, at the same time turning to cast a final look around. It was impossible to imagine that once people had walked here and smiled and talked, yet so they must have done. Hannah had walked along this very street, and maybe Jacob Obernewtyn as well.

Wearily, I turned back to Zadia, but she was no longer looking at me. Her attention was riveted to something over my shoulder, and I turned with a thrill of terror, half expecting to find one of the aggressive eels that dwelt in the depths.

But there was nothing. I calmed down, and only then did I realize what she had seen. Through the wavering water trees, a great cloud of dirt and filth was visible in the distance, rising up along with huge, shining bubbles of air. I did not need Zadia to tell me that the airlock had given way.

She gripped my arm with trembling fingers and pulled me to face her, gesturing determinedly upward. I nodded, and we released the rope and began to float swiftly up. Taking
my cue from the teknoguilder, I caught the rope and rested whenever she did, but in what seemed bare minutes, we had risen above the swaying submarine forest. Then I could look above and follow the snaking hoses to a patch of light far above. It grew larger and closer, and white blobs appeared, resolving into faces peering into the depths.

Bursting into the air, I spat the hose out and sucked in several long, sweet breaths of fresh air. Roland and Garth caught hold of me and dragged me none too gently onto the rubble island.

Garth glared at me, his face a pasty white. “Curse you, Elspeth. You near sent me to my grave!”

I tried to stand and found my legs would not support my weight. Roland caught me. “Are you all right?” he shouted, as if he thought I might be deaf as well as weak.

“I … I’m fine,” I panted. “I just feel so … so strange.”

“It takes you like that before you grow accustomed to it,” Zadia said. She was puffing, too, but she seemed not to be suffering the same dreadful lethargy that had suddenly overtaken me. The other divers rolled me out of the suit expertly and threw blankets around me.

“A hot drink, and you’ll be good as new,” one of them said with a grin that told me my mad venture had made me one of them, despite my status.

“We saw a great mass of debris and air bubbles and feared that the airlock had collapsed with you inside the building,” Garth said fiercely.

“We were outside when it happened, obviously,” Zadia commented mildly, pressing a mug of steaming liquid into my numb fingers.

Garth looked horrified. “Are you saying the lock
did
fail?”

Zadia nodded, and Garth looked from one to the other of
us in helpless fury. I gave him a bland look, thinking it served him right. I knew exactly how he felt, having been all too often faced with teknoguilder determination that disregarded all else but its own desire.

“Let’s get outside,” I said. “I need to see the sky.”

31

I
T WAS NIGHT
when we emerged into the open, and I was reminded of the man from the cloister cells as I looked up at the stars. They dwarfed me, but I was glad to be diminished by their greatness.

The waxing crescent of the moon hung above the trees. It was the same moon that had lit the clearing the night of Malik’s betrayal, the same moon that had witnessed the end of the Beforetime. No wonder it seemed so remote and cold. How small and ugly humanity must seem to it.

“What in blazes is going on?” Garth muttered.

I followed his gaze to the campsite, which lay just visible beyond a clump of trees. A huge bonfire blazed at the center of what seemed to be a great crowd of people.

“The gypsies have accepted our invitation,” Roland said, and hurried ahead.

“Hmph,” Garth grunted, though it was unclear if this signified approval or not.

As we drew closer, I smelled cooking food and burning wood, and I could hear the thin strains of musicians tuning their instruments. Every sound and smell seemed vivid after the chilling graveyard that was the underwater city, and despite my fear that I had failed Atthis and Kasanda, I could not help but feel a thrill of joy that I lived.

The minute we were in sight, Zarak came running over.
“We have prepared the most incredible feast, but Swallow wouldn’t let anyone eat a morsel until you came. I’m starving!” He frowned. “Your hair is wet.…”

“Enough talk! Lead me to the food, boy, for I am famished!” Garth declared, propelling Zarak before him.

“Elaria!” a voice cried, and Swallow’s grandmother, the tiny white-haired healer, hobbled from the crowd to take my hands in hers. “It is good to see you; though now you look more Land-born than gypsy. And as troubled as ever.” Her eyes passed about me rather than resting on me—a disconcerting habit shared by every Twentyfamilies I’d encountered. I was glad for my sleeves, which hid that I no longer bore the gypsies’ tattoo.

“It is good to see you again, Maire,” I said. “I had hoped to find you all at Obernewtyn when I returned from Sutrium.”

She shook her grizzled head. “Twentyfamilies do not dwell within walls nor under roofs. We have lived like this for so long now that I suspect we could not live any other way.” She made a sweeping gesture encompassing sky, forest, and mountains. “What palace or mansion could better this roof, these walls?”

A hand descended on my shoulder, and I turned to look into the familiar face and strange two-colored eyes of Swallow’s half sister, Iriny. For a few heartbeats, we stared at one another solemnly; then she said, “I never thanked you proper-like for saving me all that time ago.”

“There is no need for thanks,” I said. “Especially when your people just saved our lives.”

“Maybe that’s why I can finally thank you. It should have been said sooner, but it’s hard for us halfbreeds. And for a long while, I could not see the saving of my life as any good fortune.”

“You were mourning your bondmate,” I said.

“I will ever mourn him,” she admitted. “But I have learned to love life again. I am glad to have lived to see the end of the Great Divide and my brother assume the role of D’rekta.”

“If only he would bond a maid,” Maire snapped.

A faint smile passed over Iriny’s face. “He knows his duty, Grandmother,” she said fondly.

“Elaria!” Swallow called, and I turned to see him on the other side of the fire with Dameon.

“Go,” Maire said, giving me a little push. “He is eager to speak with you. Sit, and we will serve the food.”

“I am glad to see you,” Swallow said, standing to offer me his own stool. Knowing a little of gypsy manners, I accepted, and he waved for another to be brought.