Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(88)

Sera kept her attention fixed on the main ship, though, bringing Lockhaven directly above it. Hail and lightning smashed into the deck. Soldiers scrambled, some diving into the waters to avoid being struck. But there was no escaping. The ship turned into a tower of flame, so bright and hot its jet reached the underside of Lockhaven. Had she been watching firsthand without the Leering, it would have blinded her. Huge black clouds of smoke billowed from the burning husk of the ship lolling on the waves, obscuring what she’d seen. Another ship exploded, hit by bits of burning wreckage. But the mammoth enemy ship had been completely destroyed. Chunks of blazing wood floated amidst the other detritus. Sera could smell the acrid stench through the Leering.

Montpensier’s schemes were finally at an end. More explosions came from below as other ships caught flame. Some were trying to flee, but the ocean had become a burning cauldron. Gray and black clouds billowed on its surface and the choppy waves spread the devastation.

A few more ships managed to send cannonballs up, and while most missed, a few did not. Sera sent arcs of lightning toward the surviving ships, but the smoke obscured her view, and she knew she might not catch them all. They would flee for the mirror gates or try to remain hidden beneath the waves. They didn’t know the gates would soon be closing.

Within half an hour, all evidence of Montpensier’s fleet had been destroyed. She stopped raining lightning down on the ruins of the fleet and ordered Lockhaven to return to its original location over the City.

A message came through the Leering, and she recognized Admiral Grant’s voice.

“This is Admiral Grant of the high fleet. We have ships drawing nigh to your position. They should arrive within six hours. Please respond, Lockhaven. Please respond.”

His tone was urgent, as if he knew all too well that his ships would arrive too late.

Sera felt a smile quirk on her mouth. She invoked the Leering again. “We are well, Admiral Grant. All is well.”

“Your Majesty!” he said in surprise.

“Order those who are loyal to the empire to join your ranks. You will meet us at the City, where we will bring some traitors to heel. We may have to fight our own countrymen, but I hope to persuade Lord Welles to surrender. You are still loyal to me?”

“I am, Your Majesty,” he said. “Lord Welles should be punished for this.”

“And he will be,” Sera promised. “Join us as soon as you can. I’d like the fleet to surround us. And Admiral—order a full retreat from Kingfountain. We must abandon that world immediately.”

“Your Majesty, I don’t understand,” he said, his tone baffled. “We’ve made great gains. If we press the fight, I’m confident we can conquer them. They’ve never been this vulnerable before.”

He was right, of course. But then, he didn’t know what she did.

“Follow my orders, Admiral. Evacuate that world immediately. The remaining mirror gates will all come crashing down. I cannot stop it. It’s a punishment . . . from the Medium. Whoever is left on that side when the gates are destroyed will be trapped there permanently.”

Silence hung between them for a moment, and she could tell he was wondering how it was possible for her to know such a thing, then he said, “Yes, Empress. I will issue the orders at once.”

Sera let go of the Leering and slumped down on the padded bench beside it. She felt the gentle sway of motion. Lockhaven was heeding her, as before. It was moving. As tired as she was, she knew her work was not over. After rubbing her aching wrists, she rose from the bench and left to meet with the privy council to decide what was to be done about those who had committed treason.



Sera listened with patience and interest to the council members who were left. The room was only half-full because many had fled for their lives. Some had been ordered to go, by Mr. Durrant, but others had fled surreptitiously. Those who had stayed were the most courageous, the most loyal to her.

Arguments had been made for both clemency and strict justice. Sera gave no indication of her own thoughts on the matter. She wished to hear the arguments of her advisors before deciding. Many on the council were angry. All were grateful that Montpensier’s force had been destroyed.

“You cannot pardon Lord Welles,” Lady Sanchia snapped after someone suggested that retaliating harshly against Welles was inadvisable since he clearly had a strong bedrock of support within the empire. “The crime he’s committed is unpardonable! He broke our trust by siding with the enemy. Treason is a capital offense.”

“But if Her Majesty hadn’t humbled him, he may not have turned on us,” said another lord. “I’m only speaking my mind. He was drunk on power. And we ripped away the bottle.”

“You blame Her Majesty?” Lady Sanchia said, aghast. “His downfall was his own doing. He was foolish enough to have an affair with a hetaera mistress.”

“Her Majesty deserves no blame,” Mr. Durrant cut in. “Do I need to remind you who it was who just saved us from certain destruction?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Your Highness, I think we’ve heard plenty of options. There are merits to each, to be sure. The question is how do you wish to be remembered? You’ve been uncommonly quiet. I’m afraid not even I have any notion of what you will do. Your expression is enigmatic.”

Sera stroked the soft padded arm of the fine chair upon which she sat. Her wounds still festered. She smelled of the filth of the cesspit. She was in desperate need of rest. But this was more important. Her leadership had been forged for this purpose.