Page 43 of The Iron Dagger
“What do you mean by that?”
“You are going to the palace, yes? Wear your disguise. Find whatever it is that you have come to find. Please know that I am a friend, and I want you to succeed.”
“Thank you,” said Hara, unsure. The chill had left her, but she still felt uneasy. She still knew nothing about who he was or why he followed them. Was it true that he was simply another sorcerer in hiding, preferring this life of secrecy and freedom to a life of servitude in the court?
“Guard yourself, child. Good fortune,” he said, and with an agile flick of his tail, he disappeared into the underbrush. Hara heard a soft splashing, and realized he must have dove into the stream.
Hara did not mention the encounter with the otter to Gideon as they continued on down the road. The creature’s chastising words surfaced again in her mind. Perhaps she’d been too hasty to trust the man who rode behind her, his handpressed firmly to her stomach. He knew more about her now than any of her friends in the village, and doubt crept into her, seeping like frigid water.
She so desperatelywantedto trust him, but she was ready to admit that her feelings could be clouding her judgment. It might be prudent to keep this secret from him. A sorcerer who may or may not be following their steps and looking out for danger was a comforting thought, even if she did not know his motives.
As they traveled, Hara noticed more and more strange modes of transport passing them. Horses and carriages were common, but every now and then a horseless, puffing vehicle with shining metal sides would speed past them, faster than a galloping horse.
“What are they?” she asked Gideon.
“Autocars. There is a steam-powered motor that turns the wheels. They do not tire like horses,” he said.
Eventually the forest thinned and then disappeared completely as they came upon a vast grid of brick buildings that seemed to stretch for miles. Hara’s village could fit comfortably inside one of the massive buildings, and each was crammed one after the other. Rows of windows revealed a flood of lights inside each one, brighter than any lantern light. Steam and smoke hovered over the buildings in a thick cloud, and the air had a metallic tang.
Hara gaped. She’d never seen such large structures, and she wondered what they could possibly be for.
“Factories,” Gideon said as they passed yet another vast structure. “We’re passing through the industrial district of Perule.”
Hara had heard of factories before, but she imagined a cluster of workshops with tradespeople, like the seamstresses or the blacksmiths who gathered on the tourney grounds atthe Norwen castle. It was difficult to imagine the demand that necessitated these structures.
“Factories for what?” she asked.
“All sorts of things. This block is for weaponry.”
That explained the odd scent in the air. Gunpowder.
Evening was beginning to fall upon them, but it was hardly noticeable. With all the lights from the factories and the giant lamps that lined the road, they may as well have been traveling in daylight. It appeared that these factories were alight and working every hour of the day. Hara swallowed, astounded and slightly repulsed as she imagined how many cannons could be produced with such tireless efficiency.
The road began to widen and more streets branched off of it, snaking between piles of lumber, gravel, and huge mountains of soil that filled the spaces between the buildings.
They crested a hill, and Hara’s breath stopped in her throat. The city glinted below them like a many-faceted jewel.
“There’s Perule,” said Gideon needlessly.
Hara drank in the sight, her breaths shallow and her heart pounding madly.
The city in her memory had brown-tiled roofs that blended with the natural landscape, clustered like boulders at the foot of the palace. Now, towering glass buildings stuck up like spires in the flaming orange sky. The sheer size of the buildings was unlike anything Hara had ever seen, and every surface was alight.
There were levels to the city that almost appeared to float with expansive balconies and terraces glittering with shopfronts. From this distance, Hara could hear the cacophony of noise from hundreds of moving vehicles, either horse drawn or motorized. A long snakelike cart followed a track, weaving through the air in between buildings.
The palace was the only thing that resembled her memory, built into the rocky cliffside of the mountain. Only now, it was lit with impossibly bright floodlights. In her memory, it had glowed softly with enchanted lanterns.
The last rays of the sun gilded the entire city, and unexpectedly, Hara’s throat began to ache with tears. The place she knew as a child was gone, and this glittering beast was in its place. Somewhere below them in one of those many rooms, there had to be some record of her mother. The brief melancholy melted away, replaced with a wary resolve. Now, the game must begin.
Gideon left Ruteger at a stable on the outskirts of the city, paying a stablehand to deliver the many bags and satchels to the palace. Hara couldn’t help noticing that he tipped the boy handsomely using coins from the ill-gotten strongbox. It only bothered her a little.
He hailed a private autocar that seemed to be summoned by magic. It stopped before them, and Gideon gestured for Hara to climb in. She awkwardly took the three steps up into the carriage portion of the vehicle, finding it upholstered with plush velvet seats. Gideon climbed in after her, and to Hara’s alarm, she realized that there was no driver. He fit what looked like a small round jewel into a groove at the front.
“What is that?” she asked.
“This is a credit key. Much easier than lugging a sack of coins about,” he said. Then he turned to the inserted key and spoke loudly and clearly, “Palatial grounds.”
The vehicle jolted forward, zooming through the city streets. Hara braced her arms on the back of her seat and on the armrest that faced them, her knuckles white and her stomach curling unpleasantly with each whip around a tight corner.
