The Office of Shadow (39 page)

The flying cities of the Unseelie are incredible sights to
behold, but the truth is that they were born of necessity.
The ground beneath them is constantly riven with earthquakes that open great cracks in the earth on a daily
basis. Mab and her people took to the skies not in order
to approach the heavens, but rather in order to escape
the ground.

Sti I- Eret, ''Secret journeys to the North;'
from Travels at Home and Abroad

he Union Locks-properly known as the Locks of Mab's Glorious Union,
though no one referred to them as such-rested upon a massive floating
platform in the heart of the Unseelie lands. In the center of the platform was
the station itself, with its shops and cafes and its grand marble ticket counter.
Surrounding the station were the locks themselves, housed in grand arches
designed to complement the curves of the station. Beyond, on a separate tier,
were the airdocks, where transports and personal fliers were moored. At all
times, day or night, the lock arches flashed silver and airships of all shapes
and sizes came and went.

Far below all this, Timha emerged from a small private lock into an
atrium on the lowest level of the central platform. There were three arches
here, though only the one leading to the Secret City was currently in operation. No one had told Timha where the others led, and he had been sensible
enough not to ask. The entire area was off-limits to the public; its very existence was a state secret.

The guards on this side of the lock examined Timha's papers carefully,
paying special attention to the release that Master Valmin had signed. A
wand was passed over it to verify its veracity. Once the guards had checked
the papers, they called a superior down from an upper level to review them
all a second time.

Timha waited as patiently as possible, but inside he felt as though he
were about to burst. If his invisible bundle were to be discovered here, he
would never leave the Union Locks. There would be no public trial. They
would simply slit his throat and toss him out a garbage chute, for the birds
and the Arami nomads to pick over. They'd probably torture Master Valmin
as well, to determine whether Timha's treason was in fact a conspiracy.

The superior officer had the guards strip Timha and carefully examine
both his clothes and his bag, running deglamouring wands over every item,
piece by piece. As they spread out his belongings, one of the guards stepped
perilously close to the hidden bundle on the floor. If he took another step to
the right, he'd tread on it. A wand passed a bit too near, and Timha tried not
to gasp as a bit of the string was revealed. It lay on the floor, visible evidence
of Timha's crime. He tried not to look at it. Breathe. Breathe.

Finally, finally, the guards decided that Timha was fine to proceed.

Timha bent down as nonchalantly as possible and retrieved the exposed
string, waving his hand in such a way as to drag the bundle in a wide arc to
keep it from accidentally brushing one of the guards when he left the room.

The guards waved him out of the atrium, and he took a small lift up to
the main level of the station. He nearly ran to the )akes, where he just made
it to the urinal trough before he wet his pants. Before he left, he pulled the
bundle to his belly and tied the string tightly around him. As long as no one
searched him again, he'd be fine.

An amplified voice rang through the station, calling the name and destination of his transport. He ran from the jakes and out of the building, ignoring
the vibrant life of the place that had given him so much pleasure when he'd
passed through it on the way to the Secret City. So much had changed since
then. The world, he felt, had been altered beneath him. His life had drifted over
a strange, hostile landscape, over the very edge of the world, and he had only
the vaguest idea which direction to sail in order to save himself.

The funeral for Timha's mother was held at the observation deck atop the
pinnacle spire. The city of Nearside arrayed beneath him, Timha tried to concentrate on the funeral, but his eyes kept drifting to the decks below. Proud,
tall Unseelie Fae going about their business, the grand Elvish race at the
height of civilization. None of them knew about Timha's plight. None of
them cared.

They had no idea what lurked at the heart of their world. Timha had
been exposed to that darkness, and the city could not fly high enough to
bring him into the light.

The priest's elegy droned on; Timha heard none of it. As far as Timha
knew, the man had never met his mother, and the speech was merely a string
of empty platitudes. In a circle around the bier, Timha's family and friends sat
and watched. Timha's brother Hy Foran was next to him. He reached out and
squeezed Timha's hand, looking kindly at him. Timha forced a quick smile.

"Fear not, Timha. She's gone on." Hy Foran patted him on the shoulder.
Timha realized that his brother had mistaken his anxiety for grief. In truth,
Timha had never particularly liked his mother. She was an uneducated lump
who had seemed to revel in her own mediocrity. Come to think of it, his entire
family was blandly commonplace. Timha had known from childhood that if
he were ever to be happy, he'd have to leave Nearside for the City of Mab.

And look where that had gotten him. He'd been there during the
abortive attack on the Seelie lands, when the city crashed near the border.
Thousands had died that day. Timha had escaped with merely a broken wrist,
but the horror had not left him. From there to the Secret City, the pinnacle
of his young career. And from there to treason.

He looked over at Hy Foran. True grief gleamed in his brother's eyes.
This was not going to be easy.

After the prayers had been said, and the bier set alight and released into the
sky, the family returned to Hy Foran's home, which was a respectable if small
dwelling with a view of the portside edge. Food was piled on the table in the
common room, and candles glowed on a long table where a portrait of
Timha's mother had been placed. Timha took a few dumplings and some
boiled greens and pushed them around on his plate for a few minutes while
the others ate in quiet contemplation. Hy Foran's two small children ran
through the house, playing.

After the children had been put to bed and the extended family had
returned to their own homes, Timha, Hy Foran, and Hy Foran's wife Letta sat
on the balcony overlooking the edge. Far below, grasses swayed in the moonlight. A minor quake kicked up dust and a distant thunder. Letta handed out
beer in wooden mugs.

"It must have been difficult for you to get away," said Hy Foran. "I know
the work you're doing is very important."

"Yes," said Timha, looking out over the edge. "But family is more important than work."

Hy Foran nodded.

"I need help," said Timha. His voice cracked when he spoke. Tears began
to well in his eyes. "I'm in terrible trouble."

Hy Foran's eyes widened. "Tell me, Brother. Anything I can do to help I
will."

"I need to get out of the country. I have to get to the Seelie Lands. It's
the only place I'll be safe."

Hy Foran and his wife shared a look. "Timha," said Hy Foran, "what is
it? What's happened?"

"Look," said Timha. "I know the two of you are Arcadians. You can help me."

Hy Foran leaned back in his chair, looking sidelong at him. "Timha, I
don't know what-"

"I'm not going to turn you in, damn you. I need you to help me!"

"What is it you think we can do for you, Brother?" Hy Foran's expression had darkened; his voice was flat.

"I've heard that your kind have ways of spiriting people out. Believers
who are in trouble with the authorities, that kind of thing."

Hy Foran's eyes narrowed. "But you are not a believer."

Timha paused. "No. But listen to me. I know things. The Seelie will
know who I am. They'll know that I have things that they want. Oh, Brother,
I'll be killed if I don't go!"

Hy Foran and Letta shared another, longer look.

"Would you give us a moment, Brother? My wife and I need to talk."

"Of course," said Timha. He stood shakily and went inside, closing the
balcony door as softly as possible. He went to the common room and sat, his
stomach in knots. He nibbled on a sweetcake, but it stuck in his throat.

The door to the balcony opened. "I must discuss your case with another.
You will have to tell him everything. Do not tell me; I do not want to know."

Timha cried now. He couldn't help it. "Thank you, Brother. Thank you
so much." He put his hands over his face and wept.

"I cannot promise anything, Timha. I do not think you understand what
it is you're asking of me."

"I'm sorry," said Timha. "I'm so sorry."

A week later, Abbot Estiane was in his office at the Temple Aba-Nylae, lost
in contemplation, when a young monk came hurtling into his office, carrying
a letter.

"What's this?" Estiane said, a bit crossly. "I've asked not to be
disturbed."

"Father, you must see this at once," said the monk, out of breath.

Estiane took the letter and read it. His eyes widened.

"Send a message to Lord Everess in the City Emerald," he said to the
monk. "Tell him I need to see him immediately."