Chapter V

When Ambrose awoke, it took him longer than it should have to remember where he’d ended up. Small room, corners rounded. A desk on the far side of the room, within arm’s reach while he was still laying down. A peg higher on the wall next to the door held an earthy, copper-colored jumpsuit. It had a gear-shaped patch affixed to the right shoulder and a golden pin depicting a dashed line attached to the left breast. In front of the jumpsuit a pair of pristine, unscratched goggles caught the faint light from under the door and reflected it. Ambrose felt his stomach do a little flip. Up until this point, it had all felt like a dream, like someone would drop by his room and tell him the previous day had been an elaborate hoax. But those goggles… He could hold those in his hand, stare through them. That more than anything marked someone as an Engineer. Whatever happened now, it had to be real. Andhe had to be ready for it. Starting with the possibility that Peace would show up again and push him down another shaft. A phantom pain fizzled in his hand at the thought.

Ambrose pushed himself up off the cot and stepped in front of the hanging jumpsuit. It looked about his size. He picked it up and revealed a thin door in the stone behind it. It opened to a tiny room, smaller even than the one he’d woken up in. A small knob on the left wall about halfway up seemed to be the only thing interesting about the room, except for some small holes on the ceiling and in the floor. The air seemed more… humid, like back on the surface when it rained. Ambrose scratched his head. Maybe this was a shower? But that would be so expensive, not to mention all the plumbing needed. However, as his senses caught up and came fully awake, his nose reminded him of his current smell. He’d run several miles through the forest and stayed in a humid cave. Of course he didn’t smell like moondrops. Might as well test the theory.

The water did feel nice, although it seemed a little cold for his tastes. But the luxury of standing still and letting the moving water do the cleaning more than made up for it. However, as soon as the water turned off, Ambrose wondered what he would do to get the water off so he wouldn’t soak the new jumpsuit when he put it on. No sooner had he thought of the problem than a rush of warm air blasted down from the ceiling through the same holes as the water. The Engineers really do think of everything.

Ambrose wasted no more time staring at the strange room and wondering about his future, slipping into his uniform and the pair of boots sitting near the door. He had no clue what time he’d woken up, but he definitely didn’t want to be late on his first day in the caverns. Whatever ‘late’ meant. Out the door, and then was it a left or a right? He’d been too tired to remember last night. And theoretically the corridors were designed in a way that made sense. Ambrose took off to the left.

After about ten minutes of twisting and turning through hallways of stone, Ambrose finally found the pulleys, although he could have sworn by Yukima’s crown that they’d only been a few turns away the night before. A plaque on the wall showed a cross-section of the caverns, labelling each floor. The one right below ‘Honor Chamber’ bore the label ‘Invention Floor’. What had Peace said? Most everything happened there? Then he needed to go there. He looked over into the open shaft. On the end of the handle hanging nearest to him a small dial had numbers around the edges. Or, no, not numbers, but letters. ‘P’ furthest to the left, then four ‘Q’s labeled one to four, and finally an ‘I’ and an ‘H’. Currently, the dial pointed to ‘Q2’. Ambrose grabbed onto the handle with one hand and twisted the dial with his thumb. It took a surprising amount of force to move, as if it actively resisted the motion. He managed to push it to the ‘I’ setting before taking a deep breath and stepping out over the dark abyss.

The instant his weight settled on the line, the handle jerked upward, accelerating until the walls whirred by. Ambrose hung onto the handle with every last ounce of strength he could muster, but he still felt as though he would fall off as the pulleys slowed to a stop. He pushed off the back wall of the shaft and jumped onto the stone floor of the level. His heart had probably beat faster last night, but this had to be a close second.

The invention floor already seemed fancier. The walls were covered with compartments and ornate brass swirls and detailing. Ambrose turned the corner to where most of the warm light was coming from.

The actual floor took him breath away. Every single place where a desk or workspace could be fit had something filling it, equipment sitting there and people milling about. A large ticking clock hung from a stone ledge, atop which an office’s windows overlooked the floor. High above, easily two stories, the observation deck from the Honor Cavern level overlooked the scene. The clock read eight thirteen, but the floor seemed as busy as it had been when he’d seen it from overhead the night before.

Ambrose only made it a few steps into the room before dodging out of the way of a burly Engineer carrying a bin of components. Looking around, he cautiously made his way forward until he reached the clock under the office. A partial-spiral staircase led from the floor up to the door of the office on the ledge. Even from where he was standing, Ambrose could read the plaque on the door: Head Engineer. The office didn’t have any light coming from the windows. Perhaps the Head Engineer simply hadn’t gotten up yet? Hopefully he’d get to meet her later today. Perhaps they’d give him an official orientation of some sort?

He sat down on the first few steps, looking out on the chaos of the invention floor. Sooner or later, someone would come looking for him. For now, he’d have to see what he could learn from simply watching and trying to make sense of everything.

The band in the reception hall had exceedingly peculiar instruments. The tall man with the green plaid cap blew into a flute that twisted around and widened at the end, tapping lightly on the keys as he played. The two seated on empty barrels, one a man with white hair and the other a woman with a red braid wrapped around on top of her head, played stringed instruments. The man had some sort of lute, although his had a more boxy shape and a set of tiny strings on the side of the fretboard. The woman had what Hyeon guessed to be a fiddle, the only recognizable instrument. But, given the oddity of the others, he couldn’t be sure. The young woman sitting cross-legged on the floor held her instrument across her front, a sewn bag connected to a mouthpiece and a set of carved pipes. He’d only seen such an instrument once before, although he’d never been able to figure out its name. But the soldier who’d played them had been standing at attention, face red, huffing away. This girl was sitting contentedly as if play were the easiest thing in the world. The last member of the band, a boy standing next to the man with the plaid cap, banged away on a drum. Every single member of the group looked like they were having a merry time. Even those with wind instruments who shouldn’t have been able to smile found a way to do so.

The group finished another set, pausing briefly to allow the crowd to clap before setting the tempo and jumping into another song. Hyeon had been surprised when the motley group appeared in the corner of the hall, considering their less-than-fancy outfits, seating arrangements, and odd accents, but their music had impressed him. It had an informal feel to it, like it could be used in a commoner’s mead-hall or tavern, but it also seemed to fit here. Even the scholars’ string quintet, in their embroidered jackets and tied robes, seemed interested.

From his vantage point near the edge of the room, Hyeon gazed over his subjects. His subjects. One way or another, they called him Emperor now. And it looked good that one of the first things he did with his power was throw a celebration for his subjects. All his subjects, not just the rich ones. Even if they were in different locations. But he could explain that away with building capacities and event planning. Everyone deserved a say and a fair leader, but the aristocracy were the only ones who knew how to throw a party.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“What are you thinking about?” Nari placed her hand on his arm.

“So many things. Most of them completely useless. But for once, I think that’s okay.”

“You are Emperor now. You think what you want, when you want.”

“But I want to be a good Emperor. Which means I do have some things I must address.”

Nari grinned at him, a little mischief creeping into her expression. She was especially beautiful when she let a little bit of personality slip through her serene mask. “But not tonight. Tonight is a time for unconditional celebration.” She stood up and pulled her cropped jacket more securely around her, pinning it in place again before offering her hand to Hyeon. “Which means it’s about time that we take our first dance.”

“Are you sure? In front of this many people?” He let her pull him to his feet.

“Yep. Was this not one of the things you studied?”

“It was, but it’s been a while since I’ve practiced…” His breath caught as she pulled him forward towards the floor. Her laugh floated through the hot air, mingling with the notes from the instruments. The musicians took notice and morphed their tune from a lively jig into a five-step rimpanade without missing so much as a beat. Hyeon took Nari’s right hand in his left and stepped first, right foot over left.

“See? You even still remember how to start.” Nari’s dress fluttered as she turned.

“That’s about all I remember.” Hyeon stepped again, wobbling a little until Nari pulled him in and swung him around. “Well, that works too.”

“You’re not one for much formal dance, are you?” Nari winked at him and started tapping a faster tempo with her foot. The woman playing fiddle started sawing away while the rest of the group looked at her and matched. The man on the twisted flute started playing a countermelody above the fiddle, notes popping out over the rest of the music.

Nari spun around with her wrists crossed above her head, a vibrant smile splayed across her face. “Now maybe you’ll have a little fun.” To her credit, Hyeon did feel a bit more like dancing when his heart pounded in time with the beat.

“Very well. If the Empress so commands, that I must do.”

Nari drew him in close, spinning in a circle with opposite forearms pressed together. “Not tonight you don’t. Tonight you have fun, even if I have to make you.”

Hyeon had to admit, he did have the tiniest little bit of fun. After stress and obligation, music and dance had a calming effect. And later on, when the music had slowed and the commoners had left, he and Nari could retire to their rooms for a long-stemmed glass of something sparkling and distilled…

Off to the side of the hall, a lantern darkened, the flame somehow snuffed out behind the glass. The two lanterns on the sides of that one quickly followed. Nari’s step faltered as the band’s tune broke apart. “Hyeon…” The hall plunged into darkness, all of the lanterns extinguished without a single pane of glass broken. Hyeon tensed, the pressure from before returning. He felt as Nari pressed her back against his and laced their hands together.

“Relight the lanterns!” Nothing but silence. “Hyeon felt a small twinge of annoyance. He pulled it up and used it as fuel to keep his voice loud and straight. “As Emperor of the Sixth Spire, I command you to reveal yourself!” Not bad, although his wording needed a little work.

The lights around the room flickered back to life for an instant before burning bright green. The shadows seemed longer and sharper now, clawing at the floor of the chamber. From high above, a smooth voice echoed in return. “ You call yourself Emperor, yet the Spire you claim is but a construct of your imagination. You throw lavish parties, yet many suffer in the mines. That crown is a fabrication, a trick.”

Hyeon froze, although the spark of annoyance kindled a fire inside him. Disrespect to the empire and the Sixth Spire, but more disrespect to him in particular. Whoever dared speak those traitorous, they had a storm coming.

The sound of shattering glass came from the left, back towards where he’d been sitting earlier. People began to scream as smoke billowed from the shards of glass. Nari’s grip on his hands tightened. “Do something.” Her whisper was the most strained he’d ever heard it.

“What? You’re the social person. What should I do?”

“Say something. Say something loud. Give the people something to fixate on.”

Hyeon cleared his throat. “Show yourself, traitor! I will have no secrets in my presence.”

The voice laughed. “Traitor? You think I’m one of you? That I’d ever want to be one of you? You disgust me.”

“Okay, it’s something.” Nari looked up at the high ceiling. “Where is that voice coming from?”

The pillars around the outside of the room flickered as figures detached from them and started inward towards the couple. Around the room royal guards shook off their shock and rushed to meet the intruders, halberds in hand. They formed a ring around Hyeon and Nari, spikes bristling outward.

Hyeon felt in his pocket for the dagger he kept there, hoping against his usual bad luck that he’d remembered to bring it with him to the ceremony. His hands turned up empty.

A lone attacker breached the defensive circle and rushed toward Nari, plunging a long knife at her in an overhand grip. Hyeon started to spin around to put himself in the way, but Nari planted her foot and let the knife glance off her raised arm before hitting her in the stomach. She let go of Hyeon’s hand with a gasp and fell to the ground, blood pooling around the hilt of the blade. The attacker looked up just as Hyeon lashed out with a solid kick. The figure flew back through the broken defensive circle, several cracks sounding as it hit the nearest pillar. Undaunted, it pulled a set of flasks from its belt and lobbed them at Hyeon and a short-breathed Nari. The glass broke and spilled amber liquid from it, splashing on Hyeon’s boots and slacks. The other figures pulled back and tossed flasks of their own.

Hyeon shielded his eyes as shards of glass and droplets of fluid raked through his hair and across his skin. Wherever the liquid met drops of blood drawn by the glass, large amber crystals sprang up, growing quickly and encircling him. The crystals didn’t seem to be heavy, but he couldn't break them apart once they’d finished growing. He glanced down at Nari, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of pain mixed with defiance. The crystals seemed to sprout from her abdomen, reaching upward and outward like a slow-moving explosion. Surely they should have crushed her by now just from their sheer size. They drew power from her blood, reaching farther and farther until they coated her shoulders and knees. Her one free hand was stretched out towards him, begging him to take it. He dropped to one knee as the crystals started to weigh on him, his arms frozen in place. The crystals swept up across Nari’s face, cementing the tortured look in place. Hyeon took a deep breath as the amber facets climbed over his own face, trying his best to make as determined an expression as he could manage. He left his mouth slightly open as the crystal crawled over his lips, bridging the gap. A tiny flow of air trickled through the amber solid, but his lung had already started to burn. At this rate, he’d lose consciousness soon. Already his vision was fading, although his eyes were frozen open. Color faded from the crystal, black closing in around the edges. Hyeon struggled for one more gasping breath before falling into oblivion. And then all was still.

As the guests from the party slowly climbed to their feet, the lanterns flickered again and reverted to their customary orange glow. The smoke cleared as wind poured into the room. One of the servants had been smart enough to open the double doors on one end of the hall. They froze in shock again as the center of the hall became fully visible.

The Empress lay frozen in the center of the room, crystal-encased hand reaching out as if to escape something. The Emperor knelt at her side, tied to her by the same crystal coating. They looked like crude statues from a south town square, barely recognizable as human. Their shadowed assailants were nowhere to be found, broken flasks and shards of glass the only other indication they’d ever been there.