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  The prince regent stared at the table settings, his mind whirling with thoughts. If Seraphin were chosen as empress, he would be ruined forever. She would never forgive him for the way he had treated her since learning of his wife’s adultery. But hadn’t he hired tutors for her at great expense? And what had she done with his money but waste it daydreaming, climbing trees, and writing fanciful letters to a middling young officer? He was livid whenever he remembered those accursed letters. The young man had refused to surrender the notes Seraphin had written to him. After four years that young man would nearly be finished with his schooling. Soon he would be assigned to a sky ship in the fleet, and Seraphin, no doubt, would make him rise to the greatest heights. Well, if the prince regent had his way, he would have the lad court-martialed for some insignificant offense. Or assigned to one of the most distant posts in the empire.

  Yes, he would get his revenge. How dare the privy council accuse him of standing in the way of her education? How dare they insist that she be sent to Muirwood Abbey as if she were truly of the blood?

  “Did you even hear what I said?” the prime minister said in a chastising tone.

  The man’s domineering attitude was becoming grating. He wouldn’t confess that his mind had been wandering down dark paths. “What must be done, Prentice? She’s a child still, even at sixteen. A willful, disobedient, haughty child. Cannot the privy council see that? She could ruin us all.”

  “I see that, Richard,” he replied smoothly. “If you want to be chosen by the privy council, you must do exactly as I say. Or both of us will lose our places.”

  SERA

  CHAPTER ONE

  VICAR’S CLOSE

  Sera squinted at the iron lamp, willing it with all her might to grow brighter. Each Leering had a face carved on it, and each face held an expression reflecting one of the many human emotions. The little stone face carved into the rock behind the frosted glass was hidden, but no doubt it was smiling mockingly at her. The light did nothing but continue to shine sweetly, innocently, as if completely unaware of Sera’s increasing vexation. She screwed up her nose and “pushed” her thoughts at it, trying to make it obey her. Brighter. Far brighter! she ordered. She was Seraphin Fitzempress, a princess of the empire. Surely she could manage it. But, no, she didn’t even have the power to affect a small stone. It was the bitterest of disappointments that she continued to fail at such simple tasks.

  “You’re trying too hard.”

  Her friend and companion Cettie was sitting at the window seat, a book in hand, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. Sera glanced at her, feeling the frustration boil even more. Commanding the Leering stones was effortless for Cettie. Her friend could use them to light the room, cause the hearth to blaze, and produce the scent of daffodils—all while sneezing.

  Well, maybe that was an exaggeration.

  Sera envied her friend’s affinity with the magical aspect of the Mysteries, the power that made manors and castles and cities anchor in the sky like clouds or allowed sky ships the size of whales to sail through the sky. Before coming to the school, Sera hadn’t even known about whales. But her classes at Muirwood Abbey had taught her many wonderful things about her world—and expanded her consciousness by introducing her to the worlds connected to the empire through magical rifts in the universe. She had learned a wealth of information about the Mysteries of Thought, Law, War, and Wind. The only thing the school couldn’t teach her, unfortunately, was how to effectively make Leerings work at her command. That, it would appear, came down to talent.

  “Of course I’m trying hard,” Sera said with a tone of exasperation. “I’m giving it everything I have. The carving is mocking me. I know it is.”

  “It’s made of stone,” Cettie said. “They can’t do that.”

  “This one can,” Sera said with a huff. “The only time I can affect them is when the Aldermaston is nearby. It’s like he gives them a wink or something and tells them to obey me. Otherwise they don’t do a thing!”

  “He doesn’t,” Cettie said, shaking her head. She set her book down on the cushion and then turned her head and looked out the window. Her gaze focused, and her nose scrunched in a pretty way. Cettie’s nose always did that when she was thinking something over. Sera found it endearing, but her friend hated the way it brought attention to her freckles. These past years, they’d learned so much about each other. While Sera had unburdened herself about her father, who’d attempted to disinherit her, and the less agreeable side of being a princess, Cettie had told her about growing up in the Fells. Her father was a retired dragoon, a military man. He’d had a dalliance with a lady he didn’t know, years ago, and Cettie had been the outcome. The girl’s deed had been sold, again and again, to progressively worse guardians. Currently, her birth father was married to his landlord’s outspoken daughter, and both were fighting with Cettie’s guardian, Minister Fitzroy, to prevent him from adopting her. And despite Minister Fitzroy’s new wealth and power as the Minister of Wind, they had been unsuccessful at determining her mother’s identity. The old housekeeper at Fitzroy’s manor, Mrs. Pullman, might know the truth, but she refused to speak to it. She was languishing in a fetid jail in the Fells for her crimes against the Fitzroy family.

  Sera sighed. There—she was doing it again. Her thoughts tended to flutter from one idea to another, an incorrigible butterfly that couldn’t be tamed. She had tried for four years to learn how to focus, to keep her thoughts directed and not distracted. Four years was a long time to work on a weakness and see so little improvement. Even the breathing exercises that Cettie had tried to teach her didn’t work. Her mind just would not sit still. At least she had done well in her classes.

  “There’s someone watching,” Cettie observed.

  “That gawky student from the Law classes who likes you?” Sera asked.

  Cettie turned and looked back at her, her expression serious. “No. It’s a man, not a youth. He was leaning against the building, watching the street. He was looking at our place, I think.”

  Sera joined her at the window seat, but she could only see the throngs of students passing down the main street from the school to the center of town. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “He’s over—oh, he’s gone. That was strange. It felt like he was watching us. Oh well. The problem, Sera,” she said, touching her arm, “is you’re trying too hard. You have to coax the power to do your bidding. To beckon it, like you would a little bird. You do it best when you’re gentle. I’ve seen you do it without the Aldermaston, so I know you can.”

  Sera bit her lip, her voice lowering. “I’m trying, Cettie. I’ve been here for four years, and I still cannot work the Leerings reliably. If I can’t succeed, I will never fulfill my destiny. I may learn every last bit of information about the Mysteries, but an empress must be able to command the Leerings of Lockhaven to defend the people. If we are attacked again, like we have been in the past, people could die. Every book of wisdom I’ve read says something similar. I understand the principles. Why won’t they work for me?”

  Cettie rose from the window seat, a look of sympathy on her face. “But listen to yourself. You’re worrying,” she said calmly.

  “I know! I cannot turn that part of me off.” Sera started wringing her hands and pacing. “I cannot will away the responsibility that may be coming to me. It terrifies and excites me. My grandfather may leave us at any time, and if he does, there’s a chance I might be given the crown. There has never been an empress so young before. Not even Empress Maia.”

  Cettie nodded. This was an old conversation for them, and they each knew their part. “And all your expectations for yourself are tangling your feelings into knots. You cannot force this. It’s quite the opposite.”

  Sera knew her friend was right, but her anxiety was like a muscle she couldn’t relax. “I wish there was a way to force it. To command all Leerings to obey me in the name of the future empress!”

  Cettie’s mouth turned into a solemn little frown. “Don’t e
ven tease about that, Sera. Your thoughts are not secret from the Knowing.”

  She said it in such a gentle, imploring way that Sera felt chagrined. “I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. I should be patient, deliberate, thoughtful. It sounds so boring sometimes. I want it now! I fear I’ll go mad if I can’t ever learn to make the Leerings work. I do try, you know.”

  “Let’s give your mind a rest and take a walk in the village.”

  “Splendid idea! If you spot the man who was staring at us, let me know, and I’ll give him a scolding,” Sera said. Cettie knew just how to calm her. Whereas Sera had spent most of her childhood bound to her large, sprawling manor, she now had the freedom to do as she liked. No longer was she forced to climb trees to get a look at the outside world. Even then she’d been limited—the City below had been smothered in fog more often than not, and though she had been able to see most of Lockhaven, the floating portion of the imperial city, from her perch, seeing wasn’t the same as experiencing. The schools of learning, the abbeys, were an in-between place. Although they were physically grounded, each of them was separated from the populace in some way. Some, like Muirwood, were on lands surrounded by water. Others, by woods and fences. Yet they taught the magic that made cities hover in the sky.

  The girls both grabbed their shawls from the pegs by the door. The small room was so much simpler than Sera’s elaborate home. As a princess, she could have chosen to stay at the Aldermaston’s beautiful manor, but she had insisted on dwelling with the hundreds of other students in the hamlet of Vicar’s Close. The dormitory was so very simple, consisting of a small living room, kitchen, and loft to sleep in—identical to the row of other dwellings comprising Vicar’s Close—and yet she loved it. Bunches of dried lavender hung from the walls, adding a sweet fragrance to the air, making it feel more like a home.

  It was late afternoon, and the cobbled street bustled with students and those who lived in the community. She could see the spires of the abbey over the wall and felt a wave of nervousness again. Sometimes the beautiful abbey felt like a reminder of her own failures. Linking arms with Cettie, she started walking away from the abbey toward the center of the village. Just being outside lifted Sera’s mood.

  “It’s him,” Cettie said with a sigh.

  Sera saw him instantly. It was the young man studying the Mysteries of Law, Mr. Skrelling. Of course he was the one watching them. Cettie had probably only denied it out of embarrassment. Prior to studying at Muirwood, Mr. Skrelling had worked for Sloan and Teitelbaum, the advocates who represented Fitzroy. The firm had possession of his deed and had sent him to advance his usefulness to them. Even though he had left Sloan and Teitelbaum for the duration of his studies, he continued to work on Cettie’s case—the search for her mysterious mother—which he oft used as an excuse to speak with her. He’d been making a nuisance of himself for years, going out of his way to speak to them in his awkward, formal manner.

  “Should we turn and go to the abbey instead?” Sera asked conspiratorially.

  “We’re already walking his way. That would be rude, Sera.”

  “Isn’t it rude of him to accost us every time he sees us?”

  “Sera,” her friend said warningly.

  The young man collided into a bookshop cart as he attempted to cross the street abruptly. The bearded man pushing it railed at him for not watching where he was walking. The young advocate in training rose, dusting off his fine jacket, and started to accuse the driver of gross negligence. He was so discomfited and upset that he didn’t see Sera and Cettie hurriedly slip away.

  “Did you see that?” Sera said, unable to stifle a giggle. “Mr. Skrelling literally walked into the cart himself and then accused the man pushing it of doing something wrong. I had a class with him last year. He was insufferable, and he kept challenging the teacher.”

  “He is rather opinionated,” Cettie said, glancing back. “I pity him truly. He doesn’t see how he comes off to others.”

  “Yes, and it is our solemn duty to educate all men on their failings,” Sera said lightly. They exited the street into the village square crowded with students. It would be easy to lose Mr. Skrelling there. “All except for that one,” Sera said, grinning. She nodded her head to a young man and woman who stood nearby. “Adam Creigh, as gallant as ever. It appears he has been ambushed by Phinia. He has the patience of an Aldermaston,” she added under her breath.

  “He does indeed,” Cettie agreed. “I don’t see Anna. He’s usually with her and her friends.”

  Phinia and Anna were the daughters of Cettie’s guardian, Minister Fitzroy, and Adam was a boy the minister had pledged to educate. He’d grown into a robust man of eighteen, with ruddy cheeks, light brown hair, and an easy, comfortable smile. Despite his all-too-common tale of woe—his poor father had wrecked the family’s fortunes and stooped to selling Adam’s deed—he usually seemed in good cheer. And why should he not? Whereas most lost children found themselves legally entailed to scoundrels who’d force them into near slavery, Fitzroy was intent on educating his charge and empowering him to be the doctor he wished to be. And so, even though he was clearly embarrassed by Phinia’s attention, Adam was duty bound to smile, and he did. As a good-natured young man, he never deliberately caused offense. All the more reason for them to intervene and save him from his own kindness. That, and her suspicion that Cettie harbored feelings for him—feelings she’d never express because of her loyalty to Anna, who had worshipped him for nearly her whole life. The youngest Fitzroy daughter was also sixteen and had blossomed into a stunning beauty, becoming the darling of the school when she had joined them at Muirwood two years ago.

  “Let’s save him. Poor soul.”

  Cettie balked. “I don’t think we should interrupt.”

  “The young man is clearly suffering and seeking an escape from his situation. Come on.” A good tug on Cettie’s arm won her compliance, and she dutifully followed Sera to the fountain at the center of the main square. Plumes of white water gushed from the hub of the fountain’s many Leerings. The ornate sculptures depicted a conflict that had ended centuries before, a commemoration of an event that no one remembered anymore. Sera didn’t care much for history. She was more intrigued by the possibilities the future presented.

  Phinia saw them approach, and her eyes flashed with irritation at the intrusion.

  “Hello, Phinia,” Sera said. “What a pleasant afternoon. You look upset. Is something wrong?” She arched her eyebrows innocently.

  “Yes, something is wrong,” Phinia said, a bit of a whine in her voice. “Mr. Creigh is going to work in the Fells after finishing here.”

  Sera was confused. “Hasn’t that been your plan all along, Adam? You’ve often said so.”

  “Indeed, Miss Fitzempress.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Sera?”

  “My feelings of propriety compel me to persist all the same,” he answered with an apologetic shrug. “Yes, I do plan to become a doctor in the Fells. It is clear that is where the most help is needed. The City has been struck hard by the contagion over the last year, but nowhere is the spread quicker or more violent than in the Fells. Hello, Miss Cettie.” He gave her a small bow, and Cettie flushed in response, poor dear.

  “But it is so dangerous!” Phinia complained. “Why not go back to work for Father’s mines? The doctor there is getting older; I’m sure he would appreciate your help.”

  “I could do that, I suppose,” Adam said respectfully. But it was clear from his tone that he didn’t intend to.

  “The cholera morbus is so dangerous,” Phinia pressed. “I don’t want you to go to the Fells. I know Anna feels the same way. I’m her sister, and I must look after her. Promise me that you won’t. You must promise me.”

  “Phinia,” Cettie said. She managed to pack that one word with plenty of meaning.

  “Do you want Adam to die?” Phinia said scathingly, unleashing her claws. The oldest of Fitzroy’s daughters still didn’t fully approve
of Cettie, even though her family had become impossibly rich with Cettie’s help. Sera suspected she was jealous of all the attention and praise Cettie had rightfully earned. “No one knows the cause of it, but nearly everyone who’s stricken by it dies. Those living in the tenements are struck down the most.”

  “All the more reason,” Adam said with controlled patience, “that it needs to be studied by every available doctor. A plague is a Mystery. It can be solved, just like other things.” He gave Cettie an admiring look.

  Cettie and Fitzroy’s discovery of the storm glass, an invention that could accurately predict weather patterns, had brought unspeakable riches to Fitzroy’s income. Because he owned Cettie’s deed, he was entitled to all the profits. Although he wanted to bequeath a significant portion of the wealth to his charge, an annuity that would rival that of any young woman in the empire, he could not do so until she was legally adopted; otherwise her greedy relations could snatch the money away from her before she could spend a farthing of it. The case was tangled and complicated, and it frustrated Sera to no end. But Cettie would certainly not lack for suitors, regardless of the outcome.

  “Anna and I could not bear it if anything happened to you,” Phinia said with exaggerated emotion. “You must reconsider. Cettie, he listens to you. Tell him!”

  Cettie flushed again. “I’m sure he is very well aware of the danger, Phinia.”

  Phinia’s eyes flashed with hot emotion.

  “I would go to the Fells today if I could,” Adam said, stepping forward, “but we all know I must first pass the Test. The breakouts of cholera morbus last for a month or two and then disappear, only to reappear elsewhere. How does it move? Some tenements get decimated, while others, blocks away, remain untouched. Everyone is afraid of it, and people flee as soon as it appears in their community. Does that not increase the risk of it spreading?”