“But … if Dawnshot fails…”
“He will not fail,” Steris said. She took the governor by the arm. “I need your help. Don’t go. Stay. Be a hero, Varlance.”
“But…”
“My husband will stop the ship.”
“How do you know?” he asked. Nearby, one of the trains let out a jet of steam, and last call was shouted. Governor Varlance took one step that way, but then looked to her.
“Some things,” she said softly, “cannot be planned for in life. I struggled to learn that, Varlance. But there is one thing I’ve learned that is true: No matter what else happens, Waxillium Ladrian will get wherever he needs to be. Somehow.”
68
Marasi undid the final latch and heaved open the heavy metal hatch. Her arm and leg still ached, but she’d overcome her immediate exhaustion.
No army had appeared. The soldiers in Wayfarer, with Entrone captured, had backed down. Most everyone else — by the lord mayor’s orders — was confined to quarters.
Everyone was waiting to see what happened next.
“We should have known,” Armal whispered from lower on the ladder. “This much metal, by their own admission, would have drawn their ‘mutants.’ This hatch was never to lock them out, but to lock us in, so we could never visit the observation room unsupervised.”
Marasi climbed up into the observation chamber, which was indeed different from the projection room she’d visited earlier in the day. This one was a simple round room with one flat wall — the “window” that displayed a destroyed city and falling ash. Apparently opening the hatch triggered the system.
Knowing what she did, Marasi could see the flicker of the image as proof of its fake nature — but to someone who had never encountered anything like it, it would be astonishingly convincing. Somehow appearing on the back wall without the projector streaming light through the room in a way that could be interrupted.
Marasi helped Armal and the others up through the hatch. The four were immediately transfixed by the image. In the next room they found the projector — set up to shine onto the back of a sheet and create the image in the main room.
As the four former captives inspected the equipment and put their hands between it and the sheet, Marasi found and opened another small door — one to the outside. It let the mists pour in, revealing that they were in a small, nondescript building in a warehouse district. The door looked out onto a street — and a good portion of the city was visible beyond, twinkling with electric lights.
Armal and the others gathered around her, staring. Marasi could only imagine their emotions. They’d believed her enough to fight Entrone and the Set, but seeing this … knowing what had been stolen from them …
“I’m sorry,” Marasi said. “I—”
“Have you appreciated it?” Armal whispered.
Marasi frowned as the woman regarded the city.
“These seven years,” Armal said. “Have you used them? Have you appreciated them? I spent them wishing I could have even one more day of my old life. That I could show my children a world of lights and life, instead of stone and shadow. Please. Tell me you lived those years of freedom.”
“I…” Marasi said.
Had she? She had spent much of that time with Allik, and that had been wonderful. And she’d accomplished much in her career. But was it what she wanted, ultimately?
Or, was it all she wanted?
She’d seen and learned so much. And yet … these poor people, kept in the shadows. How much sooner could they have been saved if Moonlight and her people had been more forthright with what they knew? Marasi and the Ghostbloods had been working toward the same goal for years, and she had never known it.
People suffered when the truth became a commodity to be speculated upon.
For now she looked up — peering through the mists, toward some spotlights shining high above. Was that … the top of the Shaw in the distance? Lit up so it blazed in the mists like some kind of mythical beacon?
As she watched, something flashed there, and the lights — in an explosion — went out.
69
It had taken Wellid far too long to decide he hated the ocean.
He had volunteered for this duty — sailing the Pewternaut A16 from Bilming to Elendel — because he’d figured it would be the safest. On a giant ship made of steel? The biggest the world had ever seen? Protected by the thick hull from enemy bullets?
He figured that at least — once the war started — he’d be aboard the most indestructible ship ever built. Yes, they were going to engage Elendel, but he’d prefer that to being in Bilming where that crazy lawman swooped around.
But now here he was, the familiar glow of Bilming retreating in the distance. Ordered to keep watch on the deck as they steamed across the choppy waters. Keep watch for what? There was nothing out here but churning froth and mist. They were even cutting lights on the ship, now that they were out of the bay and beyond any other vessels they might hit.
He’d thought that sailing out on the ocean would be serene, but not tonight. The crash of waves, the thrum of engines. And other … phantom noises from out there somewhere. Splashes that didn’t match the flow of the water. Distant screeches that might have been gulls. Only what gull screeched at night?
Spooked by the sounds, he slid open the hood on his lantern. Unfortunately, that just lit up the mists — making a blazing halo around Wellid. He couldn’t make out much of the waters; the ship’s deck was pretty high up in the air. When he’d signed on, he hadn’t realized how intimidating it would be to look down. It was like he was atop a three-story building, the water all the way below.
“What are you doing?” a harsh voice said from behind. Gabria? The more senior sailor took him by the arm and quickly closed the lantern’s hood. “Didn’t you hear the order? Once we’re out of the bay, we’re running dark. Do you want Elendel to be able to target us?”
“I thought I heard something,” Wellid said, prying his arm free. “I’m on watch. Aren’t I supposed to watch for things?”
“If you hear something suspicious,” she said, “report it. Don’t open your lantern unless absolutely necessary. Didn’t you listen to the briefing?”
“Sure I did,” he said. Though his mind did tend to wander.
“Why are you wearing a life jacket?” she asked. “That wasn’t ordered.”
“I want to be safe,” he said. “Hey, Gab? What are you going to do with your reward?”
With the lantern shielded, he couldn’t see her in the darkness. But she seemed to stare at him for an uncomfortably long time. Was he missing something?
“Reward?” she said.
“Sure,” he replied. “The great reward we were promised. For this mission?”
“Wellid, what do you think we’re doing?”
“Delivering a payload,” he said. “To Elendel. It’s a weapon, right? We drop it off, then we get out of there?”
Another uncomfortable pause. “Yes,” she said. “Get out of there. That’s right. But I’m not doing it for the reward.”
He should have expected that. The others, well, they were all a little bit more … diligent about all of this. Trell. The impending war with Elendel. They’d have probably volunteered for this mission even if it hadn’t been aboard a giant indestructible warship.
“Keep that lantern shielded,” Gabria said, “and fetch me if you hear or see something suspicious. Credibly suspicious.”