Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(90)

—Adam Creigh, Killingworth Hospital





CETTIE





CHAPTER THIRTY?TWO

RUINS OF PAVENHAM SKY



Cettie and Maderos stood together on a beach. The sun had not yet risen, but there was sufficient light to see the endless gray waves before them. The water hissed as it lapped up on the shore, stopping before it reached their shoes. Cettie waited at the old Wizr’s side, gazing at the scene before her. A giant tree lay on the sand, its massive gnarled roots facing the sea, the bark silver and black from its constant bathing in the salty waters. Sera had described such a sight to her before. It belonged on the beach below Pavenham Sky.

But the estate had fallen. Part of the cliff had been sheared away. Boulders mixed with wall stones on the surf. Seaweed tangles tufted from broken turret windows. Small seabirds skittered around the debris. Skeletal bones from the walls and struts had been washed up on the shore. But some were too heavy to be moved by the sea and emerged from the sand like mammoth Leerings. The wind had a briny but pleasant smell.

What wreckage. What destruction her mother had wrought.

“He is here, Maderos?” Cettie asked, turning to look at him after taking in the whole of the scene. “Jevin?”

“Up there,” Maderos said, pointing his staff to an island cliff that rose before them. There were towering trees on the cliff, and she realized that the beached tree had originally come from its grove.

“But why?” Cettie asked. “Why would he come back to these ruins?”

A little smirk lighted on his face. “So many questions, little sister. My friends are always curious. Because,” he said, pointing to the little island, “there is a mirror gate here. A small one. Not big enough for a ship with sails. But plenty large enough for a smaller vessel. Yes. Here there is a mirror gate the ministries don’t know about.”

Cettie gazed at him in surprise.

“Our enemies are cunning, little sister,” he said in a mischievous voice. “They find unexpected ways to subvert us. Some they learn about in legends gone by. Others are given to them in evil books.”

Cettie nodded.

“Walk with me, little sister,” he said, and started at a quick pace along the shore toward the island. “The tide is low. He will not stay here long. You have the ring?”

She nodded, touching it on her finger.

“Good.” As they approached the mass of rock, white crests lashed against its sides. A few gray-and-white seagulls hastened away from them as they walked along the shore. The sand they trod was so wet the island was mirrored in ripples on its surface. Looking back, she saw their footprints disappearing into the sand.

“How will we get to it? Do we have a boat?” she asked.

“No, little sister. We just need to bend the water back is all. Like this.”

He held up his hand and muttered a word she didn’t understand. The water receded farther and farther, exposing the ground beneath the surf. Not all was sand. Jagged tidepools, previously covered by the sea, could be seen near the cliffs. As they walked along the wet rocks, Cettie peered into the small little pools flourishing with colorful and strange sea life. How she wished she could stoop and explore the contents, but Maderos continued hiking along the uneven ground with the assurance and ease of a mountain goat. She had to watch her step to avoid plunging a shoe into one of the pools.

When they reached the edge of the cliff, she stared up at its massive bulk. Rivulets of water trickled down the seaweed-encrusted edges, revealed by Maderos’s magic.

“I will hold the waters back while you climb up,” the old man said. “Hasten, little sister.”

She gazed at the rocks, searching for handholds. She adjusted the poisoner bag against her back and looked up again, trying to pick the best spot to climb.

Then she paused and looked at him. “Thank you, Maderos. For everything you’ve done for us.”

He shrugged slightly. “You may need a weapon, little sister, when you face him. Take mine.” He offered her his cudgel staff with the golden knob.

She stared at it a moment and then accepted it. She wound the straps of her poisoner bag around its grooves, securing it for the arduous climb. He stepped away, arms folded, and watched as she began to pick her way up the side of the cliff. Her training at the poisoner school had hardened her muscles and given her the confidence to do such a feat. She felt no fear as she quickly maneuvered up the face of the cliff. The hard climb tested her limbs and made her hot despite the chill of the morning breeze. After she’d gone up a little way, she heard the surf smashing against the stones beneath her. Gazing down, she could no longer see Maderos.

The muscles in her forearms, hands, and calves began to burn as she continued to climb. Part of the rock was slick from the water trickling down from above, reminding her of the water wall at the poisoner school. Had the Knowing presented her with that challenge to prepare her for this moment? She rested at times, drawing on her strength, and then continued. Soon she could smell the trees crowning the small island. With her muscles straining, she finally reached the crest and pulled herself up, pausing to catch her breath. She’d done it. Sitting on the gorse at the edge, she stared down at the waves beneath and felt a touch of dizziness, which she still experienced when at a great height. Then she stared down at the ruins of Pavenham Sky, which she was now more level with. It had sunk a crater into the mountainside. Shattered bits of stone and shingles lay everywhere.