* * *

  Neighborhoods of a thriving city followed the recurved contours of a tranquil bay, weaving cul-de-sacs of townhomes up and down the tide-polished shoreline. A pleasant seaside cool held steady through the early evening, and the fresh air carried far the ocean’s scent.

  From the deck of their anchored airship, Kera tried to make sense of that idyllic coastal vista below. No matter how long she stared, it just didn’t feel right.

  Their journey had taken two weeks on that cramped, overburdened vessel. For twelve nights, she’d awoken long before dawn, heart racing, escaping from nightmares. Only to be thrust into the waking world’s dread, where pained grimaces of her injured shipmates, sobbing refugees, and the pointed absence of so many comrades haunted her instead.

  The calculus of lives.

  She felt the grooves of her new fractal tree-branch scar.

  The miracle, she’d heard whispered those last days, when the whisperers thought she couldn’t hear them.

  Their power… as yours.

  The last of the other passengers were disembarking via the boarding ramps to the dock. A few crew remained on the deck, tying up crates of equipment to be unloaded. Despite them, she managed to feel alone.

  The city below looked so peaceful. Idyllic, even. As if there were no war in the land of Setet.

  After a time, Kera heard the approach of metal armor plates scraping together.

  She’d avoided Tanhkmet the entire journey. But as he leaned over the railing beside her, he seemed at first only to care for the view of the horizon, where the saffron-violet sunset dipped into the sea.

  She swallowed, straightening upright as if to leave, hoping he wouldn’t object.

  But at the same time, almost hoping that he would break into a vicious tirade, excoriating her deadly arrogance. That he would accuse her of treason.

  “She really is alive? You saw her?”

  Kera faltered.

  “Yes, sir... I did.”

  “And she wanted that we fight in resistance? To make war?”

  “I didn’t get the chance to ask her that explicitly. That’s just what Roskv— that’s what the white-coat said she wanted, and I think at this point we have at least a little more reason to trust him. But either way… it was clear to me, when I met her. Without words”

  Tanhkmet raised an eyebrow.

  “And he’s taking her to ‘safety?’ How likely do you think that is? How possible do you think that is?”

  “...I don’t know. Sorry, sir. That’s what he said he would do. They… they might both be dead by now. Or he might’ve betrayed us, or have been forced to betray us—“

  “What do you think is happening to them, at this moment?”

  “… I… I don’t—”

  But Tanhkmet still wasn’t upset, she saw. He meant the question without malice, as if believing there was real merit to her intuition.

  “Well… I think that she’s alive, almost certainly,” Kera managed. “But I don’t have any guess as to what might’ve happened to him. The soldier.”

  Tanhkmet shrugged.

  “The documents you retrieved were nothing but ash after your… return,” he said. “But Lycera’s vessel arrived a day before ours, and she’s already found some forensic specialists here in Capria. Vis techniques that can reconstitute bits and pieces from the remains. She’s been working on a very rough translation, best she can, using those pamphlets the enemy dropped as a key. Says there’s promise. So that’s helped my confidence about… the other issues. Some.”

  “He gave them to me,” Kera said. “The soldier, Roskvir. He found them.”

  “I still can’t imagine why. But, I suppose… Perhaps we can really trust him, at least in this respect. Maybe. If he’s even still alive.”

  “He had many opportunities to betray me, and he never did.”

  Tanhkmet stared into the sunset.

  “Sergeant…” he said, after a long moment. “What was that, when you came down? …For a split second, hundreds of people who I thought were dead… I felt them again. I mean, when you were at the academy, I never heard— gods above, in all my years, I’ve never even read about anything like that…”

  He trailed off, perhaps as he sensed her worsening discomfort. Kera took in a shaky breath, trying to think of any way she could possibly explain herself.

  “My mother—“

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  Understanding flashed in the captain’s eyes. Kera’s next words died on her tongue, as she met a terrible realization.

  She couldn’t tell him the truth.

  She might not be able to tell anyone.

  “My mother… might’ve had something to do with it,” she finished. “She was the one who… guided me in attuning to my vis.”

  “But you’ve never exercised it like that before?”

  “No.”

  It was clear Tanhkmet perceived her obvious half-truthfulness. But he returned a wary nod nevertheless.

  Just a thin amber crescent of the sunset still remained above the horizon.

  “I feel like you should be angry with me, sir,” Kera said quietly.

  “Maybe I should be. I don’t know. Yeah… maybe I should be.”

  Kera got the feeling he’d spent a great deal of time contemplating that exact idea, already.

  “I want to fight. That’s the thing,” he said. “I want to fight this, if we can and should. And even if the imperial house perishes — even if it’s already gone — if it truly was the wish of the last living heir that we continue our resistance, then I would want to fight, still, too. If such a war could be waged. I always wanted to fight, Iumatar. I know it may not have seemed like it. But I always wanted to fight. Of course I did.”

  Kera believed him.

  “Were you and your mother close? You and Astrapes?”

  “When I was much younger,” she said. “But after she was promoted to the cabinet, we barely spoke, honestly.”

  “So she never told you of any of the… troubles she might’ve faced, in the course of her work, after her promotion?”

  A certain grave darkness had come over Tanhkmet’s features, something more than just the lengthening shadows of evening.

  Kera decided to be honest. But still, she chose her words with care.

  “Well actually, in her journal — the one I found in the ruins — she spoke of some sort of warning she’d tried to give the government, in her capacity as advisor. A warning about the coming catastrophe, based on her research, and some sibylline prophecies she’d observed. But apparently… it wasn’t handled the way she liked. It seemed very distressing to her.”

  “And there’s no way I could read this journal for myself, is there?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Kera, relieved she could be truthful in that regard as well. “I hope it was destroyed along with all the other documents disposed-of before the evacuation. Either way, it's lost to us. But I remember a great deal, at least. She had a lot to say… about the irresponsibility and incompetence of those who opposed her.”

  “Her warnings weren’t heeded…” he murmured.

  Tanhkmet was silent for another long moment.

  “Sergeant… I need you to take a commission in the Guard.”

  “Uh, what? Sorry? Sir?”

  “My staff has more than a few vacancies, after all. At least until we figure out more — about Astrapes, the princess, the weapons, everything — I need you close at hand. And I mean, you’ve been right about everything, so far. Maybe that was all a fluke, but at this point, I’m inclined to think it wasn’t. That you have some real insight to share. I can admit to that. And we’re gonna need a whole lot of insight, if we want to have any chance of anything, with this.”

  Words failed her.

  “But really, more than any of that… I just need a staff I can trust right now. Because there’s this other thing, Iumatar.” Tanhkmet looked around, then inched closer. “And you’re not to say a word of this to anyone,” he whispered.

  She swallowed, nodding.

  “Those warnings Astrapes tried to get out? Well, I was on the council myself, often enough. I was privy to her artificers’ efforts to raise the alarm, and the sibylline observations that imparted her with such urgency in the first place. At the time, at least, I also thought her warnings were going unheeded due to the rest of the government's incompetence and irresponsibility. ‘Never attribute to malice…’ and all that.”

  He shook his head in disgust.

  “But that was only because I didn’t yet understand we were already at war. Because we were. The enemy has had spies embedded among us for months, if not longer, Iumatar. Think about it — it's the only way they could already know how to fluently speak and write our language. Or how they could’ve used some weapon against Atum-Ra, before even the vanguard forces of their invasion had secured a beachhead. We may have been already at war for years, by now. And in war, Iumatar, the maxim is flipped: never attribute to incompetence what can instead be explained as sabotage.”

  Kera’s stomach twisted, as she looked back out over the city. The last claws of a golden orange afterglow stretched over the ivied condominiums’ red-tiled roofs, spacious winter villa courtyards, and retiring market squares.

  But the view was anything but idyllic, and she then understood why.

  “I think you understand. And I don’t just mean one or two high-level bureaucrats, or even just some house archons,” muttered Tanhkmet. “My last mission before the catastrophe was to retrieve a missing sybil, but when we tracked him down, it turned out that he hadn’t been kidnapped by some enemy. He’d escaped the Augury on purpose, after foreseeing the impending destruction with his gift. He told us later that he’d tried to warn the Augurs, but they wouldn’t listen. What a coincidence, then, that so much of the Augury’s operations were relocated out of Atum-Ra during the last few months.”

  A chill went down Kera’s spine, as she saw the distant spires of the Augury’s newly-constructed headquarters rising from downtown Capria.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. Don’t relax, just because it seems so quiet now. None of us can afford to, yet.”

  “I won’t, sir,” she said.

  They both looked out over the cityscape one final time from that lofty perch.

  “Well, come on.” Tanhkmet clapped her shoulder. “Let's get off this boat, first lieutenant. We have an army to raise and arm, but the good people of this city, at least, likely know next to nothing of what’s happened out east.”

  He again leaned in close.

  “And as for the others… we might still have one advantage against them. Because they won’t expect us to be so acutely suspicious, already. So we have that — surprise.”

  Kera nodded. Rooting out any traces of a fifth column would be imperative, and retaining the element of surprise meant they might hope to oust their internal enemies with a single, swift stroke.

  “Stay close, as we start wading through the thick of it down there,” said Tanhkmet, as he started for the gangplank. “Along with Lycera and the others, you’ll have to watch my back, and I’ll watch yours.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Stars had begun to dot the evening sky. Distant celestial fires that shone brighter over the mountains, away from the city’s lights.

  Kerauna swore then an oath to herself, on the souls of her mother and father.

  She swore she would return, one day, for those they’d left behind.

  Then she followed Tanhkmet down the gangplank, steeling herself for the descent into that city of traitors.

  I know I said this yesterday, but I'd just like to thank you all one last time for reading my story so far.

  See you all tomorrow for the start of book two.

  Cloak of Saffron