Through a Mirror, Darkly Page 5

  “On the contrary—the Elves have agreed to host a representative of Culei on Thera to discuss terms.”

  Felix whistled. He had not seen that coming.

  Willow leaned forward. “Why are you telling us all of this? Where do we come in?”

  The woman eyed Willow in a way that made Felix grit his teeth, looking her up and down with a slight frown.

  “Since you have just given birth, and because we do not wish to put the life of a new mother at risk, you do not come in at all. It is Felix we’re interested in. You’ll stay behind.”

  Felix felt his stomach knot up with a mix of fear and excitement. “If she’s staying, then that means you’re planning for me to go somewhere.”

  Benton nodded again. “It does indeed. And, should you complete this mission to our satisfaction, you will be granted full amnesty here in Pravacordia. Your family will become a welcome, productive part of our community, and you will be given your own home as well as a generous stipend, as a symbol of our gratitude for your valuable assistance.”

  The terms sounded about as good as Felix could have hoped for. It was the price he would have to pay that had him worried.

  “And what’s the mission?”

  “Given your appearance, you alone have the capability to blend in on Thera without attracting unwanted attention. Therefore, the Ministry has decided that you are to go through Antiquity’s Gate and do whatever is necessary to sabotage the alliance talks. Under no circumstances can we allow the Culeian mission to succeed.”

  A smile crept unbidden over Felix’s face and he turned to beam at Willow. “I’m going to be a spy.”

  ***

  The actual mission briefing had been, to Felix’s growing dismay, somewhat vague. The Ministry had decided that, since his was the only ship to have ever managed the trip, Ambrose would be the one flying Felix to the Gate.

  Ambrose, in turn, had insisted that Penelope and Tobias accompany them as part of the team. Explaining that they had several ideas to improve the engine’s performance in extreme weather conditions, he’d made the case that most of their plans could be completed on the way. The rest could be done while they waited for Felix to return.

  According to the Ministry, Felix would be dropped at the Gate where he would proceed—with stealth—to Thera, and that was where the details became rather questionable.

  Prior to the Sequencing, several Human representatives had been through the Gate and come back to describe a gleaming city known as Imradia about a day’s walk away. But many of the specifics had been lost during and after the plague.

  Felix would have been more than happy to provide details, to prove he was a team player, but the Therans in Sanctuary had jealously guarded information pertaining to their home world. It was as much a mystery to him as it was to the Pravacordian Ministry. Even Willow, daughter to Sanctuary’s Theran-born leader, had very little to offer by way of useful intel.

  Felix was instructed to wait for the Culeian party to come through and follow them and their Theran hosts—without being caught. It seemed a tall order, even if he’d had training in such things. But being the only available “Elf” in Pravacordia just happened to make him uniquely qualified for the job.

  They had been given a day to prepare and had been surprised the next morning when they entered the workshop. Thoris Wilks was once again standing inside, this time sporting a lurid green vest and a matching felted bowler cap.

  “The Ministry has decided that it would be in their best interests to have one of their own along,” he gushed in a way that suggested he viewed his presence as something of a wonderful gift, “Seeing as we’ve something of a rapport, I was only too happy to volunteer!”

  Felix rolled his eyes. The Ministry wasn’t offering Wilks as an additional asset to the mission, they just wanted someone on their side to report back. They didn’t trust Felix—or, it seemed, his team.

  Instead of replying to Wilks’ enthusiastic greeting, he turned to Willow, who was watching their preparations with a look of quiet sadness. He embraced her, her petite frame fitting perfectly in his arms. He bent his head down to rest it on the top of hers, her hair silky smooth beneath his cheek. He breathed in her scent, dreading leaving her behind. It was a long time before he let go. “If we don’t come back—” he began.

  “You’ll come back.”

  She sounded much more confident than Felix felt.

  He bent down to where the twins lay, snug and oblivious to the situation in an oversized wooden crate lined with a faded quilt. Felix smiled, remembering how Penelope had set this up in the workshop for them. She’d said that Sebastian had always loved being around the noise and the ships and had played contentedly in this makeshift playpen for long hours.

  The twins were still too young to try to wander around, not yet ready to play with wrenches or lick random bits and bobs, but they did seem to enjoy lying out here among the hustle and bustle. Ripley was sucking on his own toes, and Felicity, who seemed to think herself above trying to eat her own feet, was attempting with wild, uncoordinated swings to grasp Ripley’s other foot for herself.

  Felix scooped both of them up, planting kisses on their foreheads and snuffling their warm bellies with his nose. He was rewarded with the sweet sounds of baby giggles.

  “Flix?” There was a tugging at his leg, and Felix looked down to see Sebastian, his face a mask of worry. He put the twins back down and knelt so that he was level with the toddler.

  “Hey, little man,” he said, bracing himself for the hard questions he knew were ahead. “What’s wrong?”

  Sebastian scrunched his face up in a valiant attempt to keep from crying.

  “You go, now?” His lip quavered, signaling the tears to come.

  Felix nodded, offering a winning smile and trying his best to force confidence into his next words.

  “That’s right. I’m going on a secret mission! But I’m going to come back as soon as I can, okay?”

  Sebastian looked down at his feet, scuffing his toe glumly back and forth on the concrete floor.

  “Mommy go too,” he informed Felix, misery etched on every inch of his face.

  “I tell you what,” said Felix. “Let’s make a deal, you and I.”

  Sebastian perked up at this suggestion, eager to hear the details.

  “I’ll take care of your mommy on our mission, so you don’t need to worry about her. But I’m pretty nervous about leaving my family behind, too. So, while I’m gone, will you take care of Willow and the babies for me? So that I don’t have to worry?”

  Sebastian’s eyes grew round as he looked from Felix, to Willow, to the twins cooing in the crate. “Flix babies? Miss Flix?” he whispered, his toddler brain working out the tremendous responsibility he had just been offered. Soon he began nodding vigorously. His face went from sadness to determination. “Okay! No worries!” he told Felix.

  Felix offered his hand, and Sebastian stuck out his pudgy fist to shake on it.

  “Good man,” said Felix, standing back up.

  “Good man!” Sebastian marched to the side of the crate and placed a protective hand on the highest slat he could reach, glancing around with narrowed eyes as though an enemy might pop out from behind one of the ships or machines at any moment.

  “I leave you in good hands,” Felix said to Willow, smiling as he gestured toward the tiny sentry.

  Willow returned his smile, but it did not make it to her eyes.

  “Please be careful,” she implored once more.

  “I will.”

  “We’re all set over here!” Tobias hollered.

  Felix turned to face Pluto, and he threw one more glance back over his shoulder at his wife.

  “I love you.” Then he steeled himself, stepping up and disappearing into Pluto’s hold.

  Pluto had no seats except those intended for the pilot and co-pilot, which were of course occupied by Ambrose and Penelope. In the hold, Thoris squatted with as much dignity as he could muster, afraid to soil his
trousers on the somewhat neglected floor of the cabin, looking decidedly less happy now about his spontaneous decision to join the excursion. Tobias bustled back and forth, fussing with gauges and adjusting pressure valves, often causing Thoris to teeter in an almost humorous attempt to keep his balance.

  Felix had no such concerns about his garments and sat on the floor, leaning against a stack of supply crates that had been secured to the wall with nets to prevent them toppling during acceleration. The ship rumbled to life, and Felix stared out the window, watching the workshop disappear beneath them.

  He fiddled with the fringed hem of the robe Willow had made for him. It was soft, an earthy brown, styled in a traditional Theran fashion. She’d hoped it would help him blend in.

  “There aren’t any Halfsies on Thera, so no one will be thinking to look for you,” she’d said, her voice anxious. “You have very Theran features. I’m certain no one will notice you, as long as you don’t draw attention to yourself.”

  Felix had laughed. “You don’t sound very certain.”

  Willow had spent the last day coaching him on Theran etiquette, traditions, and gestures. It wasn’t too hard, as Felix had seen most of these things firsthand growing up in Sanctuary. However, Willow was privy to a more intimate knowledge of Theran culture, having grown up in a strict and traditional Theran home. He was certain that Nero had stringently enforced those traditions; he would not have wanted any child of his disgracing him by allowing filthy Human ways to become the norm.

  “Avoid eye contact,” she’d insisted on several occasions. “In Sanctuary, my father always complained about how they’d lost so many Theran customs. He always made certain to honor the old ways, even if only in his own house. He said that on Thera, eye contact showed that you viewed someone as an equal. That’s considered presumptuous and rude. It’s important to show respect by acknowledging your betters. Oh! And Therans aren’t comfortable with unnecessary touching. They don’t have any physical greetings, like hugs or handshakes. A slight bow or a simple nod is a much better choice.”

  Felix wasn’t certain how much actual interaction he’d be having with other Elves, but he did his best to commit her lessons to memory all the same. They were both aware of the fact that the odds of Felix pulling this off were stacked against him. He would take whatever help he could get.

  “If you can’t find a way to sabotage the talks, just get out of there,” she’d admonished in the end. “Please, I don’t care what the Ministry does to us or where they send us. I couldn’t bear to live without you. Promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks.”

  Felix hesitated, and Willow pressed. “Promise me!”

  “Of course. I wasn’t thinking about that. It’s just…” He sighed. “I can’t help wondering about Ripley. We’re going back there, and all I can think about is that the least we can do is find his body. Take him here, bury him. He would have loved it here. So many machines to tinker with.” Felix paused for a long time, imagining Ripley exploring every corner of Ambrose’s workshop. “He deserved better,” he’d said at last.

  “You’ll find him,” Willow had assured him. “Find him and bring him home.”

  Felix forced himself back to the present. He shifted his body, glancing toward the cockpit.

  Each time Penelope turned to speak to Ambrose, her eyes glinted with unshed tears. Felix knew how difficult it was for her to leave Sebastian. But she also knew that Willow would take good care of him. She knew that this mission was important, and it meant a lot to Felix that she’d wanted to be a part of it. Perhaps she was doing it out of a sense of patriotism, but he had a hard time believing that. Penelope was doing it because she was their friend, and that’s what friends did. They helped each other. He thought about Ripley again. You’d have liked her, Ripley, he thought.

  Felix tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He felt strangely at peace.

  He had no plans to die on Thera.

  He had too much to live for.

  ***

  “Oh dear!” exclaimed Thoris as a patch of turbulence sent him toppling over, his hat rolling several feet away before coming to rest under Ambrose’s chair.

  Up until they’d reached the open ocean, the flight had been smooth. If Felix had not been so preoccupied with thoughts of Willow and worries about the mission, he might have even enjoyed the trip. They had passed over a number of incredible landscapes, from sprawling cities like Atmos to long stretches of quiet farmland. There were huge ruins where the skeletons of sleek towers cast long shadows over the surrounding forests, all but forgotten.

  Ambrose had named a few of them, like a grim tour guide, explaining how so many had been abandoned during the Sequencing and never inhabited again. These places had been so densely populated that the plague had spread rapidly and without mercy, turning the once gleaming structures below into mass graves.

  They’d passed over less ominous looking places, too, like snow capped mountains and a lush jungle with a canopy of treetops so thick that he could not make out the ground beneath. Penelope said that these vast areas had once also been home to a great number of people. But the earth did not care for the affairs of man, reclaiming its own with little resistance as the years trailed on.

  There were too few now to fight it back into submission, and too little reason to try. The Pravacordians ruled from the sky and congregated in places like Atmos and Tyreen. Very few of their people chose the solitude of the vast emptiness that existed within their borders. After the Sequencing, too many of their ancestors had been forced into such an existence.

  Felix imagined that the Pravacordians of today took comfort in their numbers, herding themselves together in an effort to feel like a more cohesive society.

  They’d reached the sea not long ago, and Ambrose had brought the little ship higher, piercing the clouds and then cruising just above, to mask Pluto from any potential enemies. The waters would be crawling with Culeian vessels.

  In fact, the very real possibility of attack had lengthened their trip quite a bit. Instead of flying east over the Atlantic and then south over Nequiem territory, they’d flown as far south as they could first. It meant that they’d spend a lot longer over the Antarctic than Felix was comfortable with, but Penelope and Tobias had both assured him that Pluto could handle it.

  He wasn’t sure if they were being entirely truthful, but the hope they offered was all he had to go on. All Felix could see outside the windows now were occasional wisps of white scuttling past as they skirted along the peaks of the clouds across the endless blue sky.

  Ambrose called over his shoulder. “All right back there?”

  Felix smirked. “I’m afraid it’s a bit more of a bumpy ride than Mr. Wilks is used to.”

  “I dare say,” conceded Wilks, dusting himself off with a deliberate hand for the hundredth time. Tobias had retrieved the wayward hat, offering it back to Wilks, who replaced it on his head before tugging his waistcoat down. “I believe I’ll try standing for a while. Is it much further?”

  He had asked this question, in varying forms, at least once an hour—for the last nineteen hours—despite frequent threats of violence from Penelope if he didn’t cut it out.

  Penelope let out a loud sigh, not bothering to hide her exasperation. “Mr. Wilks. When you feel the ship take a sharp dip, and you see ice, we’ll have reached the edge of Antarctica.”

  “Quite right, quite right,” murmured Wilks, unperturbed by her politely condescending tone.

  Tobias, attempting to keep the peace, offered to allow Wilks to assist him with some minor modifications at the back of the hold. To everyone’s great relief, he was happy to accept this proposal.

  For the next several hours, Thoris Wilks became Tobias’ problem, and there was blissful silence up near the cockpit.

  The promised dip in altitude brought him scrambling back up front.

  “See out there, on our right?” Penelope said, more patient than she’d been before, “Those are the Transantarctic Mountai
ns. We’re over the main land mass now, and in a while we should hit the Sound. Why don’t you go back and help Tobias some more?”

  “Indeed! I dare say you’re lucky I’m around, Ambrose, my friend. I fear that Tobias is not completely up to the challenge with these modifications. He’s quite useless without me! Turns out I’m something of a prodigy.”

  When he had again made his way to the engine compartment, Penelope gave Felix a meaningful look.

  “Remind me to thank Toby when we get home,” she said. “Whatever he wants. I owe him one.”

  “Maybe a nice fruit basket,” Felix suggested with a wink.

  At last they neared their destination. Felix reluctantly went to collect Wilks and Tobias as they drew closer.

  “We’ll be coming up on Antiquity Island in just a little while. From there, it isn’t far to the Gate.”

  “Sweet Evenmire,” declared Tobias, looking harassed, “it’s about time.”

  The minutes ticked by at a crawl as they approached the frozen world Felix had once called home. He felt himself tense as he thought about passing over the domes again.

  Would they see Ripley’s body as they passed over? Unlikely, he decided. How hard would it be to find him?

  Tobias paused in his work to kneel down beside Felix, whose face must have displayed the many emotions he was battling inside.

  “We’ll bring him home,” he said, correctly interpreting Felix’s distress. “I promise.”

  Felix sighed, some of the tension seeping out of him.

  “Home. Willow had said that, too. But...this was the only home he ever knew. Still, when I think of him, out there, alone...no one knows he’s out there except us. We can’t just leave him. I can’t leave him. Not again.”

  Tobias nodded, his face solemn. “We won’t.”

  He handed Felix a small black box.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a radio transmitter. We won’t be able to stay right outside Antiquity’s Gate since we don’t know how long we’ll be waiting. We can’t run the engine indefinitely, so we’re going to land inside Dome Six just like Ambrose did before. It’s warm in there, at least compared to out in the open, so working on the exterior of the ship won’t be as unpleasant.”