Prophecy's Promise (Prophecy of the Edges Book 1) (16 page)

“You’ve prayed for my arrival?”

“You are more than an ambassador sent by a foreign queen. You are the Promise of a Prophecy a millennium in the making. You’ve been looking for a way to heal The Edge, but it’s been with you all along. That book will tell you how and you are the only one, in all of history, who can save us.”

“No, that can’t be,” I said. But as soon as the words came out, I realized that as crazy as what he was saying sounded, it made more sense than anything else I could think of. Shezdon had always told me that if one has nothing to disprove a seemingly impossible hypothesis and no other answers were apparent, the impossible became the most probable. Was this anymore impossible than a Scholar having Mist Apparitions or tumbling beyond The Edge? Something existed in the nothingness. Did my very existence on this side of The Edge prove that I, Hailey Troubade, was more than a simple Scholar? How many scientific facts did I defy by falling through The Edge?

“Perhaps we could move to a more comfortable place to discuss this. It’s a little walk beyond this Edge view back to the museum. But not too far. I’ve started the Protocol, but it has no need to be rushed.” He motioned toward the path he’d sent the boys down a few minutes prior. “I never thought that when I volunteered to give the cadets a tour that you would actually come.” He whistled and smiled enthusiastically, shaking his head, appearing nearly as star-struck as Aakab. “My sister is going to be ecstatic when I tell her.”

As we walked back to the museum, it was obvious that we had walked into the outskirts of town, and a very vulnerable area. It had no moat and no wall. Funny-looking horseless carriages raced past us in both directions. “Who is weaving the Mist, and why not use a horse?” I asked, my dizziness returning.

“Don’t you have locos?” Aakab asked. “Locomobiles?” he clarified, but of course, the full and short names were equally foreign to me.

I shook my head. “How do they work?”

“I don’t know.” The boy shrugged. “But they are fun to drive fast.”

“You can drive them?” I asked in awe.

“Sure, every male older than fourteen does, well, mostly.”

“In my Slice, we ride horses.”

“You’ve seen a horse? They are extinct, although some say they are still alive in the mountains.” Aakab seemed as interested and amazed by horses as I was by the locomobiles. Everything looked busy. The locomobiles zoomed by faster than they had any right or need to.

“Is this trapped Mist how Mistless people are able to operate these horseless carriages?”

“A Mistless person!” Bahlym recoiled in horror. “That’s disgusting.”

“Mist Weavers are maybe one of every few thousand people in our world.”

“Everyone in our Slice can control the Mist,” Aakab said proudly.

“If everyone here has Mist, then why do you need to give them more?” I asked.

Aakab wrinkled his nose. “How do you operate your audibles, broadcastvisions, and locomobiles?”

“We have none of those things.” I laughed. “I don’t even know what you are talking about.”

“An audible allows you to communicate at great distances,” Bahlym explained.

“Why don’t you just write a letter?”

“Because the audible is real-time voice transmissions,” said Aakab. “You can have a conversation miles away. And broadcastvisions allow you to see what is happening somewhere else or watch a play.”

“I see,” I said, but I really didn’t see. How could the Mist do all these things? “Do you have any small device on your person?” I asked. 

“Sure.  This is an audible,” Aakab said as he handed me a small oblong black device. 

I Wove against the device, trying to pick out the patterns.  The patterns mimicked Fortifeds, but not exactly.  And it wasn’t a single Mist-Powered object.  There were dozens of smaller objects working as one.  I started to Weave against one of the larger pieces, but Aakab snatched it from me.

“You’ll break it,” he complained as he stuffed the audible into his pocket.

Part of me wanted to keep Weaving against it or against the locomobile that transported me, but Aakab was right. I didn’t know how they worked and I might break something so instead I stared out the window.

The buildings got closer together suggesting to me that we’d reached the business district of town. Men walked in clumps, some talking to each other, but most scurried by, not acknowledging anyone else’s presence. Some people glanced quizzically at me, raising their eyebrows at my appearance, but carried on with their own concerns. My travel-weary clothes didn’t exactly mesh with their tidy appearances. I looked around to judge the style of the women’s clothes, but realized that only men were outdoors.

I perched on a bright blue bench directly inside the entrance to the museum, sipping water and trying to center myself. Bahlym and Aakab whispered back and forth to each other only a few feet away.  I got the sense that they were watching over me.  Men outside the glass doors bustled back and forth as if the world had not just expanded to six times its size. Everything I thought I knew about my planet and the basis of much of Gryshelm’s natural science had been blown to bits. I’d have to revise those introductory textbooks I’d written; the very ones that lead Adine to request that I start a university in Dybreakea. There were new continents to explore, new species to categorize, new histories to study. And, most important, someone in this Slice knew the language of Shezdon’s book.

I had five minutes of peace and pondering before a dozen men wearing the same military uniforms as Aakab and Bahlym barged into the museum. They flung open the doors so hard that I don’t know how they didn’t shatter. In unison, the men pulled long stick objects from their sides and brandished them threateningly at me. None of the men had anywhere near as many emeralds or rubies pinned to their red sashes as did Bahlym.

“What is the meaning of this?” Bahlym shouted in Cuneiform.

One of the men replied to him, angry, barking orders. Bahlym responded in the same language, level, but very stern. Commanding. Bahlym moved closer to me, placing himself between me and the men. Following Bahlym’s lead, Aakab also stepped in between me and the men, obviously placing himself in danger.

I drew the Mist to me. Bending the invisible threads of the universe, molding them. Ready to defend myself. The Mist flowed more easily here. I’d never been drunk but the way the racing power made my head almost spin seemed almost the same.

Aakab gaped at me. “How can you control that much Mist? With that kind of control, they can’t even touch you with their blasters. You really are the Promise.”

“Stop calling me that,” I hissed to him.

All the men, including Bahlym, regarded me strangely, cocking their heads, giving me the same expression Altis had given Arwan when he first saw her. Awe and fear.

“Am I being taken prisoner?” I asked.

“Of course not!” Bahlym half stated, half commanded.

“Not with
that
control of the Mist,” Aakab quipped, but at Bahlym’s look, the boy wiped the smirk off his face and did his best to look contrite, which, after only a quarter hour of knowing him, even I could tell this took considerable effort.

“I called them as the first part of the Protocol dictates. This is Midar Zouaid Mekrim, captain of this town,” Bahlym said, indicating one of the men. “Captain, this is Hailey Troubade, Ambassador and Promise.”

“We are bringing you with us for your own protection,” the captain informed me.

I raised an eyebrow. “My protection?” I asked, but then Bahlym gave me a warning look similar to what he’d given Aakab. “Fine. But I would like these two to come with me, if that’s okay with you.” I asked Aakab and Bahlym.

“This day keeps getting better and better!” Aakab almost hopped he was so excited.

“Not the boy,” Bahlym commanded. “But I will accompany the lady.” At his words, the leader of the group began to protest, but Bahlym held his hand up. “Captain, I do outrank you. Don’t make me tell you twice. I only defer to you as a nicety,” he said the last part more quietly so that none of Captain Mekrim’s men could hear, but loudly enough and in Cuneiform so that I could.

The captain stomped his feet together and bowed. He began to speak, but Bahlym cut him off. “Cuneiform.” He demanded nodding at me. “And address her properly. Either Ambassador Troubade or Promise. Either will suffice.”

“Ambassador Troubade, please,” I said.

Captain Mekrim bowed stiffly at me. “Ambassador. We have been asked to take you to your apartments in the Treshquen Tower, on behalf of the general, as the Protocol dictates.”

“Who is this general? And what do you mean, my ‘apartments’?”

“The apartment is for the Promise. The Treshquen Tower is a very nice building. Many in my caste who do not reside in this city full time keep apartments there, myself included. And the general, Kadir Hamrham Zirban, is bit like our king,” Bahlym explained.

“Does everyone have three names like you and this Kadir?” I asked. “All you need is two… your own and your family’s.”

“The middle is to honor our families and is for formal occasions. We use it depending on the formality of the situation.” He paused for a moment. “I imagine this is all very new to you. At the very least, our Protocols probably seem very different. I will explain everything and answer any questions you have, but for the moment, please, keep quiet. You can ask me all the questions you want at the Tower. I don’t mind, but the others will,” he told me, not unkindly. “It is our way. Please. It will make this all much easier.”

I understood what Bahlym meant. Appear meek. Be quiet. Annoyance bubbled up inside me. I felt the anger from The Edge demanding that I obliterate these obnoxious cretins. Didn’t I have the right to ask questions? I forced myself to calm down. I am in a new world. I needed to sit back and leverage my scholarly ability to observe. I tried to be the shy, scared girl I was only a couple of months ago. The girl who Prince Jaysen called a rabbit. But all I realized was that I had no intention of being a quiet observer. I was no rabbit. Not anymore.

But I wasn’t an idiot. I wasn’t from this place and I didn’t know the mores. I would cooperate for a while. I allowed the captain to usher me out of the museum. A line of the horseless buggies, locomobiles, was waiting for us. He opened a door to one of the locomobiles for me, and I climbed inside. There were two rows of seats facing each other. I sat on the far end of the one facing forward. Bahlym and Captain Mekrim climbed into the other side.

We sailed over the flat grey streets, zipping by people interacting with technologies beyond my comprehension and buildings formed from the contortions of materials at their atomic nature. Each new sight that assailed my eyes through the window of the locomobile confused me more than the sight before. Mist tapestries distorted to complexities beyond any Weaver’s imagination engulfed the entire slice. The Mist felt stale. Powerful, but overworked. Even the smells that assaulted my nose were unrecognizable. Everything smelled pungently bitter, like the world had been doused in bad cooking oil and fried up for days.

I focused on the glass of water in my hands; on how, despite the insane velocity with which the locomobile propelled us down the road, the water remained didn’t have so much as a ripple of movement. I tilted the glass slightly and the water listed, verifying that it hadn’t become solid. I began to sweat, the fabric of my shirt clinging to my skin. I felt lightheaded, as if I’d stood up too fast, but, of course, I was sitting down. My stomach heaved.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I announced as steadily as I could.

“Loco-sickness,” Bahlym said, not unsympathetically. “Don’t focus inside the mobile. Try looking at the horizon.”

“But there is no horizon!” I said, panicked. The buildings interrupted the landscape.

“The distance then,” Bahlym said. “Your brain and your body are telling you two different things. Your body knows you aren’t moving, but your brain can feel it.”

I did my best to focus on the points furthest out into the distance, but the buildings were so close together, like weeds tangled over themselves. But finally, when I thought that I couldn’t last another second, the Guardians took pity on me, and we stopped. I gazed out the window, but seeing the top of the building was as impossible as seeing the horizon. I’m sure there was a top, but I couldn’t get an angle from inside the locomobile to see it.

“Where are we?” I asked, before remembering that I wasn’t supposed to be asking questions.

“The Tower,” the captain replied.

But it didn’t look like any tower that I had ever seen before. Towers are circular, made of brick and attached to castles. As I stepped out of the mobile, I realized I was wrong. I could not see the top. This rectangular spike scratched the sky. Literally. It extended into the clouds. “You’ve made a building to the stars,” I whispered in amazement.

“Hardly,” Captain Mekrim said dryly, rolling his eyes. “It’s merely a cloudy day.”

People gathered around me, shouting words that I didn’t recognize, and pushed up against me, throwing me into Bahlym. He placed one hand on my lower back and his other hand on my shoulder. My skin crawled at his touch. I shifted my hip under his waist and grabbed his hand that clutched my shoulder. He landed on the composite stone ground with a thud. The crowd scattered then reformed like a flock of spooked pigeons.

“Don’t touch me.” I glared at his gasping form. “Arwan might trust you, but I don’t know you.”

He panted for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. “The daemon trusts me?”

“Yes.” I extended my hand. “I’m sorry. You startled me.”

He eyed my hand for the moment. “If I grab that are you going to kick me?” He laughed, then clutched his side, moaning and giggling at the same time. Eventually, Bahlym stood up and motioned me through the door, very careful to keep a bubble of space between us.

We paraded into the building’s immaculately decorated foyer. The crowd remained outside, but pressed up against the glass wall of the building. Several full-grown trees reached toward the beige ceiling. The trees, fully summer green, did not seem to understand that it was autumn and their leaves should be turning.

“Looks like word’s already gotten out,” Bahlym noted. “I’ll make a statement to the reporters. We will need to come up with a plan, but for now, I think you need to rest.”

I felt the same as I had when I was twelve and had no memories. Everyone else around me knew what was going on and what they were doing. “No. What is happening to my world? I need to know what you know. Now.” My bewilderment was making me angry, and I didn’t want to be confused anymore. The captain sucked air in through his mouth in a mixture of surprise and irritation. But I did not care, so I pushed on. “If I am here, it is because I am supposed to be.” I parroted what people had been telling me for weeks. And for the first time, it did not sound so crazy. Maybe because everything else going on seemed even crazier. “And furthermore, as a diplomatic ambassador, the first from my side of The Edge that you’ve had in a thousand years, I demand to be treated with the respect due to me in my station.”

“In this Slice, women do not demand,” Captain Mekrim said, looking down at me over his nose.

“Well, get used to it. On
my
side of the Slice, respect and authority are not based on gender. I’m here to stop The Edge. Waiting around in this highly impressive tower isn’t going to achieve any results.” In my anger, I formed the Mist into a bubble shield of glass shards. Perhaps not very diplomatic, but both men seemed to be paying more attention to me. “Shall we head for your general now? How does this work?”

“Oh, my sister is going to love you,” Bahlym whispered to me as the captain huffed a few times but then picked up his own flat stick, which looked similar to but slightly larger than the one that Bahlym had spoken into before.

“What’s that called?” I asked, pointing to the device he held in his hand.

“No, it’s fine, Captain. It’ll be faster if I do it. Fewer audible transmissions,” Bahlym said and then turned to me as he took his audible out of his pocket. “I’m going to proceed with the Protocol so that the general will be informed that you are here.”

The captain snorted. “See that everything is in order.”

“I will take care of it,” Bahlym assured the testy captain. “You are dismissed. Protocol demands an officer remain to help the Promise. It would make sense that it be me, since I live in this building.” The statement that Bahlym lived in the building—and the not-at-all-veiled indication that the captain did not—seemed to offend him more than the fact that Bahlym was fewer audible transmissions calls away from the general. He hung around for a few more seconds as Bahlym began to speak into his object.

A huge crowd pushed against the glass walls of the building. The number of people had increased by a factor of at least twenty while we had been standing in the foyer. I waved at them. Bahlym noticed and shook his head at me. He pulled the object away from his face. “Oh, no. No. No. Let’s go find a private parlor. Ugh. I’m glad I was the one out there and not… well, just about anyone else.”

“Maybe that was part of the Promise,” I teased. He considered the point thoughtfully before leading the way from the foyer down a corridor. I trailed after him. A few doors were shut, but most were open. He went into one and I followed, smiling at the young woman standing beside the door. Like a statue sprung to life, she immediately bowed at Bahlym and grabbed a vessel on the table beside her and poured two glasses of water for us. After placing the glasses on a low table between twin sofas facing over it, she returned to her station beside the door, waiting attentively.

“Hi, I’m Hailey,” I said, but she stared forward as if she did not see me. I pointed to myself. “Hailey.” Then pointed to her, questioningly. Annoyance crossed her face and her eyes narrowed. “Hailey,” I said again. But in response, she made a shushing sound. “Sorry,” I muttered.

Bahlym gestured to one of the sofas, but like a moth to a flame, I walked straight to the back wall, adorned with ceiling-high bookcases, stuffed with knowledge that maybe even the library at the Keep did not contain. I lovingly traced my fingers down the spine of a random book. No matter the differences between our lands, as long as there were people who valued books, I was sure that we would find something in common.