When Lapis declared she needed a stake, she did not expect her brother to plop her in the communications room to man the equipment until Ciaran returned from escorting his mother somewhere. She wanted to get outside, feel the freezing night air on her cheeks, have the sting of wind-blown snow distract her from her thoughts.

She did not want to wait for ‘just in case’ communication from the workstation. She wanted . . . she wanted . . .

She snagged the cup of cold wake juice, winced as she downed the rest of it, and rubbed at her lips with the back of her hand. Too bad nightmares plagued her slumber; falling asleep in the chair tempted her. The loud beeping of an incoming signal would wake her—or she assumed it would. When Faelan showed her how to answer, the blare had brought curious khentauree from the tech room to see what they did.

Sympathy for both her brother and Ciaran and whoever else had to man the comms room welled; boring, and more boring on top of that. Did they have reports to skim or something? Regretting her lack of reading material, she slid further down in the chair. She supposed Faelan could have conscripted her to meet with the new rebel leaders who arrived that afternoon from northern Jilvayna, giving a personal account of events in Dentheria. She assumed he would speak with them about that, but they also brought news; since the skyshrouds crashed, the sparsely populated region had seen a strange surge in Dentherion activity along the border with Tayvek. Neither the Jilvaynan nor Tayven rebels could discern what they were doing, other than they had large machines they planted in the ground.

Faelan suspected they were searching for derelict mines; during the Taangin empire, the area had numerous operations to extract aquatheerdaal. It made sense, that Dentheria, panicked about the skyshroud crashes, put more effort into trying to find a source to hold them over until the military found a better solution.

If one believed Jhor, the empire would collapse before any Dentherion entity discovered a replacement.

Noise from the hallway, and what sounded like kids. Had the street rats showed up?

Knock knock.

She glanced over her shoulder at Selda, who peeked in with a smile and a plate of her seasoned fries. “If I’d known Faelan stuck you down here, I would have brought you something sooner,” she declared.

Lapis smiled. “It’s alright.”

“So I have fries, and I’ll bring some hot tea. But,” and she nodded her head to the side, “you have guests.”

Guests?

A weathered face topped by white hair peered around the door jamb. “Lanth! They have you on comms?”

She shrugged. “It’s something to do. Here to see my brother, Wrethe?”

“Yes, but he’s in a meeting, so I decided to see if you were around.” He paused, then looked back down the hall. “Yes, yes, you can go back to the kitchen. I know it’s cold down here.” Shaking his head he stepped into the doorway as Selda bustled to her, handed her the plate, and bustled out, unwilling to let unsupervised children nose around her domain without her present.

“Fawn and Jerin with you?”

He nodded. “We needed to get out,” he said. “A trip to the city would let us stretch our legs, get some fresh air. Then it started to snow. Will probably ask for a room for tonight, before heading out tomorrow.”

“We have plenty.” The House felt empty, so many rebels had special tasks to perform which kept them away. She held up the plate to him, and he grinned in thanks before snagging a few of the long, thin fried tubers. He tasted them, and his eyebrows shot near to his wispy bangs.

“These are . . .”

“The best fried anything you will ever have,” she supplied. “Her seasoning will make you fat.”

He chuckled. “Because you want to put it on everything?” He sat in the other chair with a sigh and grabbed more. Lapis indulged, too; even her melancholy could not compete against Selda’s seasoned fries.

Wrethe slipped out of his well-loved leather pack and set it on the floor at his feet. “Heard about the Denthie janks,” he said, his tone solemn and sympathetic. “Protecting who you care about too often has a price. I’m sorry you’re suffering from this one.”

She nodded, wondering who told him. She did not appreciate the gossipy lips.

“I felt something the same, the first time I ended a life.”

The first time? Lapis never pictured Wrethe as someone capable of taking out another human being, let alone more than one.

“Didn’t mean to, but a shank pulled a knife on my grandmother, and I got scared. We were at the end of Sunset Pier, where the water’s deep, and I pushed him. He stumbled and fell in. He couldn’t swim, and no one wanted to rescue him. My grandmother hauled me away and sent for the guard—too late, of course. Nasty fellow with nasty habits, but that didn’t make me feel better. My parents sent me to the countryside to spend time with her, away from any retaliation—and that’s when I first learned about the skyshroud. Haven’t left.” He half-smiled and patted the pack. “But that’s not what I called about. It’s Jerin.”

Lapis frowned and sat straighter. “Jerin?”

He waved his hand. “Nothing like that,” he assured her. “Granted, he has some emotional issues to work through, and sometimes he’s not the nicest kid when his pain rides him, but overall, he’s doing fine. Anyway, he sunk into depression yesterday, and Fawn tried to knock him out of it. He got excited, grabbed an object his mother had given him, and threw it against the wall. It upset Fawn and I rushed in to see what had happened.

“The thing had been a ceramic figurine of a fox. Jerin cried when he realized he destroyed something he treasured, and I hugged him while Fawn went to get a broom.” He opened the flap, dug inside, took out a gold key, and dangled it from a thin, matching chain. “This was inside.”

Lapis frowned and leaned forward, cupping the key in her palm. “Does he know what it opens?”

“No. He said his mother never told him about it.”

She grimaced and smoothed the bow; a shallow, seven-sided star decorated both sides.

“Yeah, that was my reaction. The paper wrapped around it has a code. It’s not like the ones Danaea used with the undershanks she worked with, and Jerin says he’s never seen it before, so his mother didn’t share it with him. I did a preliminary examination after the kids went to bed, but it’s going to take some effort to decipher it, if I even can. I don’t have any other instances of it to study.”

“Linz and their team went through Danaea’s papers. Maybe they came across something you can use.” She let the key fall from her hand. “Can you glue the figurine back together?”

He nodded. “Fawn wants to. Will give her something to do, and show Jerin that it may not be perfect like it was before, but we can repair it and make it into a new and wonderful thing, cracks and all.” He lowered the key into his palm. “The figurine didn’t have an opening, so the key and the paper were fired inside the ceramic. She went to a lot of effort to hide this.”

“Does the figurine have any meaning beyond something Danaea gave Jerin?”

He shook his head. “No. He said she gave it to him over a year ago, random, with a smile and a hug. But I wonder, if this isn’t what her colleagues were searching for. They didn’t know where she hid it, and had heard about Jerin, so started looking for him because they had few other options.” He rubbed at his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t understand that woman. She doted on her son as any loving mother, but placed him in danger for a key.”

Lapis did not understand anything Danaea did, other than her need to see him educated in one of the finest schools in Jiy made her take out a bunch of loans she ended up paying the ultimate price for.

“There’s a bit more. Faelan sent me an update on the Stars’ cult, Mesaalle Kez, Mibi and the moneylending, because he hoped it would help us figure out some of the strangeness in the coded correspondence.” He let the chain slide through his fingers and the object clattered onto the console’s desk. “Jerin’s spoken a couple times how, during important holidays, he and his mother would attend the Fifth Gods’ services dedicated to Stars’ worship. She would leave him to listen to the service and slip away with someone she called Priest Aaroden. He said the man was always kind to him and gave him sweets as compensation for sitting through the boring ordeal. He wants to know if the key has something to do with Aaroden, and, I think, so do you.”

“We’ll check him out.”

“Jerin said he has an unfamiliar accent, so I’m wondering if he’s Taangin, and maybe working with Kez.”

Lapis nodded at the reminder Kez had infiltrated Jiy long before anyone realized who she was. She nibbled on more fries as thoughts swirled through her head. “Other than what the Seven Gods’ temples use during holidays, and the prayers to luck, I don’t think the Stars are worshipped as much here as other places.”

“True.” Wrethe said, grabbing a few more edibles. “The Seven Gods have been prominent since I can remember. I asked my grandmother about the Stars’ order when I was a kid. She said they had more influence when she was a little girl, but their leader had a falling out with the Sixth God’s leader, and the puppet king booted the Stars because the Sixth God’s temple paid bribes. The other temples divided up the important holidays because the amount of tithes they got during the celebrations exceeded other events, and it’s stayed that way.”

She did not care about the Gods and their followers, and the thought of nosing about the temples and dealing with their clergy irritated her. She saw the religious orders as corrupt organizations in thrall to King Gall because he backed their power plays. Their tacit support of all the terrible things the throne did to the poor kept her far away from their shallow, hypocritical services. She did not think she had the acting ability to enter one and make a priest believe she searched for life’s meaning in their deity.

“How is Jerin handling the countryside?” That should divert her thoughts.

“Better than I expected,” Wrethe admitted, chuckling. “He liked the harvest festivals and got attention from the girls. He never had that in his boarding school, and didn’t know how to handle it.” He wagged a fry at her. “His birthday’s on End Year 3:12, too.”

“I’ll get him something.”

He nodded in approval. “Fawn’s got plans. He has no idea how to handle her sisterly love, either.”

Lapis smiled. “I hope he accepts her in that role.”

“Me too. His time at Willington’s wasn’t flowers and scented wind when it came to friends.” He reached into his bag and withdrew a folder. “Don’t know if Faelan told you, but Tamor took pictures of some interesting equipment at the Shivers and Cloister. They sent me copies because I have a library full of old tech books and histories, some from the Taangis Empire, some from the beginning days of the Dentherion Empire.” He laughed. “My grandmother collected all the materials she could find in the ‘shroud before she closed off the most damaged parts. It’s a trove of information, if you can read Taangin and Meergeven. Good for me, the manuals have plenty of pictures and illustrations.

“I haven’t had much time to examine references, but I did happen upon one machine. It’s an ancient energy producer that uses metal blades rotated by wind to create electricity and send it to underground machines that direct it to where it needs to go—so, a windmill and generator set-up, but not like I’ve ever seen. The khentauree must have blades on the mountains somewhere that spin in the winds. I’m betting the power they get from those runs the entire mine and temple complex. Unfortunately, I doubt we’d be able to re-create something similar. We don’t have the parts or any way to make them.”

She accepted the folder from him. “He was taking pictures of power sources?”

Wrethe nodded. “Among other things. Like everyone else, Midir and Jo Ban Jano are interested in finding alternatives to theerdaala minerals. Jo Ban’s scientists crafted nifty new tech weapons, but their power source doesn’t scale up to run large machines. If we can discover a different, reliable way to power, say, farm equipment, we’ll be sitting better than the empire, Taangis, and Meergevenis. It’ll give us an edge among neighbors, and we can share the tech for mutual aid agreements and such.”

Lapis cocked her head. “You’re talking like Gall’s already fallen.”

“It’s just a matter of time, Lanth. He’s squandered the goodwill of fellow puppet kings and that ass who’s now high councilor doesn’t like him. He’s on his own. There’s no one he can turn to, and no price he can pay, for more aquatheerdaal or support. He knows it, too.” He leaned forward on his knees. “Stopped by the undermarket before coming here. The merchants I talked to say he’s desperate enough, he’s contacting out-country merc companies and syndicates, seeing if he can hire them as palace guards.”

Lapis frowned. “Palace guards?”

“When Seeza got rid of nearly all the city guards, Gall ordered the palace guards to patrol the eastern city to compensate for the lack of personnel. Most of them left because they didn’t want to and he docked the pay of those who refused. The palace guard’s been dwindling for years, probably because he shifted so much metgal into finding an alternative power source he didn’t have the funds to pay them. Now he’s lacking in both. He sent demands to Dentheria’s bases and outposts to keep the peace, but now they’re calling their soldiers home, leaving a scant presence and no one to send his way if he gets in trouble. So he’s less protected and desperate, but I don’t know why he thinks an out-country merc company or syndicate would take a chance on him. He doesn’t have the metgal to pay them what they’ll demand.

“I’ve also heard he diverted aquatheerdaal for those cannons he has mounted on the palace ramparts, and whatever he used it for, he can’t replace it. The most menacing defense he has, he’s turned into expensive junk.”

She nodded, sadness welling. There would not be a better time, and those she held dear would lead the charge against Gall. How many would make it to the next dawn? Cannons were not the only weapons the palace owned. She looked down, battling tears, and Wrethe patted her leg in comfort.

“The allies your brother’s collecting are strong and motivated. And it’s not just humans. The terrons and khentauree are foes the puppet and his supporters won’t expect.”

She frowned. “They shouldn’t be fighting with us.”

“Perhaps not, as this is a human problem, but both Nathala and Ghost have pledged help. It’s not lost on them that Gall and any designated successor are a threat to them and their communities. They see their homes as important enough to protect.”

And taking out the enemy before his people discovered the abandoned train cars of aquatheerdaal in the tunnels would keep them safe.

The console beeped, loud and grating. Wrethe smiled with even more sympathy, snagged his pack, and left her to conduct rebel business. Sighing, she pressed the buttons she was supposed to press and waited for a face to pop up on the screen. To her startlement, Cowl appeared.

“Lanth!” he said. “Why’d you let them put you on boring duty?”

She half-smiled. “My brother thought it would keep me busy.”

“Has it?”

“You’re contacting us, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “I suppose I am.” He slapped a hand to his chest. “Cowl Jano here to report that Ceystoria’s farmers have had enough and, with the help of rebels, soundly defeated the puppet king and lit the palace on fire. Ceystoria’s capital has rural people running through the streets where the aristocrats and merchants live, causing mayhem and stealing as much food as they can. And to add to that, it appears the skyshroud that infuriated the populous in the first place vanished on its way to Trave. Did it crash? Maybe. Did it run out of fuel? Maybe. Did the rebels bring it down? Unlikely, but maybe. Did the Taangin-backed Citarve Syndicate bring it down? Better chance, if still unlikely.” He ran a hand through his hair, his grin disappearing. “We don’t know much about Citarve. A Ceystoria native started them as a tech smuggling ring, but something happened along the way. The founder disappeared, and a brute of a man beholden to the Stars took his place. Knowing what we know about Mesaalle Kez, I’m betting he’s a plant from her.”

Lapis winced. Not what she wanted to hear.

“We need to look into them. If Kez is backing them, there’s a reason, and it probably has something to do with Gedaavik and khentauree.”

“Why is this all happening at once?”

Cowl laughed. “Guess we lost our Stars’ luck to the interlopers.” He set his elbow on the desk and planted his cheek in his palm. “I don’t know. Dentheria’s kept Theyndora stable for generations, but its greed made its downfall inevitable. I’m not certain any country or empire can exist for long because human nature won’t let them. The power and wealth bundled into government leadership is too attractive to the wrong type of person, and they’ll fight to their death to covet it.”

“You’re sounding as cynical as I feel.”

“The Minq have taken advantage of and battled more than one of those wrong types over the years. It’s hard not to be. My grandfather isn’t. Still don’t know why.” He straightened. “Guess I can ask in person. He called all of his immediate relations and offered us a place in Jilvayna if we join him there. The greater organization is pretty pissed at their least favorite son, but he holds all the tech they need to remain relevant, and that’s not lost on the elders. So I’ll be gathering my group and moving your way.”

That shocked her. Syndicates had inter-squabbles on a regular basis, but she always had the impression that the Minq sat above those. “Welcome to Jilvayna. If it’s adventure you seek, I have a feeling you’ll get your fill in a couple of weeks.”

He laughed. “Unfortunately.” He leaned forward. “I never thought I’d live through the end of the empire. It seemed so massive, too big, too important. I never thought I’d be grateful to run away from Trave. I never thought I’d see my grandfather holding the Minq elders by the neck and squeezing. It’s beyond uncomfortable. My predictable future is now tatters, and I can’t pick up the pieces and sew them back together. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.” Something crashed in the background, and he sighed. “Other than help my grandmother pack.”

Lapis grinned. “I don’t envy you.”

“Which means I need to get back to it, before some other unexpected news slaps me on the forehead. Take care.”

She waved as the screen went blank and pressed the buttons to turn everything off. She wished to take care, but had the suspicion she did not have the time. Grabbing paper, she scribbled down a report for her brother. At least that gave her something to do.