The Quest to the Uncharted Lands Page 12

  Stella tried to remember her encounter on the crow’s nest. She remembered the Faceless man had gone from an older man to a younger man in the blink of an eye. She’d been so shocked she hadn’t noted any other details, except how dead and empty his eyes had seemed.

  Stella caught her breath.

  His bloodshot eyes. That was it. The detail the man couldn’t change. He’d had terribly red eyes in both faces, as if he hadn’t slept in days. It might not be enough to catch him, but it was a place to start.

  Static crackled from the beetle. The message wasn’t finished. “If you want to send me back a message, you can use the tictan—the beetle,” Cyrus said. “Press the little button beneath its wings, and you’ll have a minute or so of recording time. Once you’re done, let the beetle go and it’ll find me. I’ve programmed it to go back and forth between us.” His voice dropped. “Don’t worry. This one’s just a machine. It’s not alive, so you don’t have to be afraid of it.”

  Stella’s heart squeezed in her chest.

  “Anyway, if you can send a message back…just…please do it,” Cyrus said. “I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  With that, the beetle tucked its copper wings back against its body and settled into her palm, where it lay, unmoving, like the statue that she’d once believed it to be. Obviously, that was the end of the message.

  Stella sat down on the edge of her cot, a jumble of feelings coursing through her. The scientist part of her marveled at the tiny contraption in her hand. A machine that could hold a voice and carry messages! And somehow, the beetle had known to come straight to her. Was there no end to the wonders in Cyrus’s land?

  It all felt like magic.

  Stella shook her head. Another part of her couldn’t afford to think about that now. The important thing was that Cyrus had reached out to her, despite the risk that someone might discover he was sending secret messages. He was trying to warn her, but more than that, he was upset.

  And trapped.

  She needed to make things right between them, and then together they could come up with a plan for catching the Faceless man. But she wasn’t going to accomplish any of that by sending one-minute messages through the beetle, no matter how amazing a machine it was. She needed to be able to look Cyrus in the eyes when she spoke to him.

  Stella got up and dressed, slipping quickly into the invisibility suit. With the exception of her parents, no one among the crew knew of its existence. She could use the suit to sneak into the security office and get to Cyrus. Maybe even free him. Then they could go hunt for the Faceless man together.

  When she was ready, Stella put the inert beetle into the suit’s pocket and made her way out into the hallway, checking first to make sure it was deserted.

  The stairs at the end of the hall would take her all the way up to the hatch to the outside deck or down to where the security office was. Stella headed down. She had to take extra care on the metal risers so that her footsteps didn’t echo and give her away.

  When she got to the next landing, she glanced down the hallway. A guard was standing in front of the security office door as usual. Undeterred, Stella crept along the hallway, pressing her body against the wall opposite the guard. She slowly closed the distance between them, her eyes scanning the floor as she went.

  There. A small rusted screw lay on the floor near the wall. Crouching, Stella picked it up and flicked it down the hallway. It clattered to the floor, and the guard’s attention snapped in that direction. He pushed off the wall and walked down the hall to follow the sound.

  “Who’s down there?” he called.

  Quickly, Stella went to the door and eased it open a crack. Thankfully, it didn’t squeak.

  Inside the security office, there were two rooms. The main office had two more guards in it, but Stella got lucky. There was a woman sitting at a desk in the corner opposite the door, her back to Stella, and a chamelin sleeping on a cot nearby. There was a ring of keys on his belt.

  Opposite the cot was a door on the right-hand wall. Stella would have bet all the coin she had that Cyrus was locked in the room behind the door.

  Her resolve wavered as she spied on the guards. Counting the man in the hall, there were three of them assigned to watch Cyrus. She hadn’t expected there to be so many, not for one boy. Even with the invisibility suit, she wasn’t going to be able to distract all the guards long enough to get Cyrus out of here, not by herself. In fact, it would take every bit of skill she’d accumulated with the suit just to get past these two.

  Moving ever so slowly, Stella stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Maybe she couldn’t bust Cyrus out of here, but she’d come too far not to at least try to sneak in to see him. And they still had to come up with a plan for catching the Faceless man.

  Sweat dripped down her back, and Stella’s hands trembled as she made her way over to the cot, her eyes never leaving the keys on the chamelin’s belt. She hoped that he was a deep sleeper, because in his lizard-like form, all his senses were enhanced. The slightest noise and she risked waking him.

  Carefully, she knelt down beside the cot until she was at eye level with the keys. The woman at the desk was writing something in a journal. The only sound in the room was her pen scratching the paper’s surface and the steady, quiet breathing of the chamelin.

  Swallowing her fear, Stella reached out a shaking hand and closed her fingers around the key ring, pressing them together in a bunch as slowly and as quietly as possible so they wouldn’t jingle. Then, using her other hand, she started to unhook the key ring from the belt.

  The chamelin snorted and rolled over, tugging on the keys.

  Panicked, Stella moved with him, frantically working to unhook the ring as she went. The chamelin was about to roll over onto her hand, trapping her and probably waking him. At the last second, Stella loosed the ring from the belt and pulled the keys free.

  She’d done it. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief and casting a glance at the woman still writing, Stella stood up and went to the door. A gentle test told her it was locked. Keeping an eye on the woman at the desk, Stella tried each of the keys until she found one that slid into the lock.

  Now the final test. All the woman’s attention was on the journal in front of her, but if she looked up just once, she’d see the door to Cyrus’s room opening by itself.

  Stella counted to ten in her head, dredged up her courage, and turned the knob on the door. She eased it open slowly…so slowly.

  The woman didn’t move, didn’t look up.

  Stella opened the door just wide enough to slip into the room.

  There wasn’t much in the room, just a small cot in the corner with a table and a lantern. Cyrus lay on the cot on his side, facing away from her. He looked like he was asleep, but Stella knew better. Having slept just a few feet away from him in the cargo bay for several days, she knew that when Cyrus truly fell asleep, he flopped onto his back, flung his right arm over his eyes, and snored. Not loud, obnoxious snoring, but more like quiet snuffling sounds that went on all night.

  Using the flickering lantern light on the table to guide her, Stella made her way quietly over to the side of Cyrus’s cot and crouched down. She laid her left hand on the boy’s shoulder, at the same time putting her right hand over his mouth.

  Cyrus jumped and immediately jerked forward, trying to free himself from her hold. He let out an involuntary yelp, but luckily, Stella’s hand muffled the sound. “It’s all right,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s me.”

  She’d meant to reassure him, but instead of relaxing, Cyrus just pulled harder to escape her, squirming and twisting on the cot until Stella removed her hand from his mouth. She kept hold of his shoulder so he’d know where she was.

  “Are you crazy?” Cyrus hissed angrily when he could speak. He scowled at the empty air. “You scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”

  “I got your message,” Stella said impatiently. She came around the side of the cot and sat down on t
he edge so she could keep one eye on the door. “I think it’s safe to talk. One of the guards is asleep and the other’s occupied.”

  She took off her veil and hood, deactivating the suit so Cyrus could see her. The suit had been a lifesaver in an ice storm, but, indoors, it was like baking in an oven. She raked sweaty bangs away from her forehead.

  “That’s better,” she said, keeping her voice low. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the beetle, handing it to him.

  Cyrus looked at the object, confusion joining the scowl on his face. “Why did you risk coming here?” he asked. “Why didn’t you just send the beetle back with a message?”

  Suddenly self-conscious, Stella looked down at the floor. It was harder to talk to Cyrus now that she was visible. When he was able to look at her, she couldn’t hide anything. There was so much she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat.

  The silence stretched, and finally Cyrus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Aw, this is such a mess,” he said. “Listen, is there any way we…I mean…Stella, can we start over?”

  He wanted a fresh start. Stella felt her nervousness slipping away. This was what she’d hoped for, wasn’t it? She couldn’t mess things up now. “Yes!” she said, letting the words tumble out before she lost her courage. “Cyrus, I’m so sorry. About everything. I’m sorry you’re locked up here, and I’m sorry for what happened the day of the storm.”

  She folded her hands tightly in her lap. “You were right about what you said—about me. I’ve been trying to be this great explorer off to see the world, but I had no idea what I was getting into. I’m terrified of tight spaces, so I obviously wasn’t meant to travel on an airship. I have the chance to see the uncharted lands, yet every night I lie awake wishing I were home in my own bed, where I’m safe and everything makes sense! And there are all these possibilities for new discoveries, but at the first sight of one, I ran away and I…hurt you. I’m the worst explorer ever.”

  “Now, wait a minute. Slow down. I didn’t mean you were a bad explorer,” Cyrus said. The light from the bedside lamp illuminated the distress in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Stella shook her head. “I didn’t mean what I said either. But the Faceless man had just come after us, and then I saw that vision of your arm, and I was just so shocked and scared it made all those terrible things come out.” She’d accused him of not being a person. Who would say a thing like that?

  But Cyrus nodded as if he understood. “I should have told you the truth before the storm. The way you found out my secret—it would scare anyone to pieces.” Stella opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. “No, I mean it. Any other human in Solace would have taken one look inside my mind, screamed his head off, and dropped me from that crow’s nest like a sack of salt. But not you,” he said, looking at her now in wonder and admiration. “Your hand never even slipped.”

  Stella didn’t want to think about what might have happened if she’d let go. “Is that what caused the vision?” she asked, shifting the conversation to a less frightening subject. “Was I really looking inside your mind?”

  Cyrus nodded. “I don’t completely understand how that part of my power works, but when I touch someone while I’m using it, it’s like there are all these doors around my mind and heart that open up, and whoever I’m touching can just step through. I can’t hide anything from them. I think maybe it’s because while I’m creating a barrier, all my own shields are down, if that makes any sense. My power’s handy, but that’s a really inconvenient side effect, let me tell you.” He sighed. “Although, in this case, I’m glad you know. I’m so tired of keeping secrets.” He shook his head, and unexpectedly, a grin tugged at his lips. “You make it impossible anyway, with your eyes.”

  “My eyes?” Stella was suddenly wary. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with my eyes?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with them,” Cyrus said quickly. “I’m not saying they’re magical or anything. It’s just when I look into them, I don’t want to lie to you.” He ran his hand through his hair. “And the more it seemed like we were becoming friends, the worse it got. Talk about inconvenient. Here I was with all these secrets, and you’re asking questions and staring at me with those earnest, please tell me the truth eyes. I didn’t stand a chance.”

  For a minute, Stella was speechless. Wait. Was he complimenting her eyes or not? She couldn’t decide. But if he really couldn’t lie to her…

  “All right, then. If you’re so powerless against me—what’s your real name?” she asked, leaning forward so he got the full effect of her truth stare, or whatever it was.

  He slumped back onto the cot, raising his hands in defeat. “It’s Cyrus,” he said with a groan.

  “Ha!” Stella said, keeping her voice low but triumphant. “See, you’re not helpless after all. You’re just—wait. Wait. One. Minute.” Slowly, the truth dawned on her, and she pulled a death glare instead of a truth stare. “Your name really is Cyrus, isn’t it? You just tried to make me think it wasn’t!”

  He nodded sheepishly. “When we met and you asked me my name, I blurted it out without thinking. I couldn’t believe I was such an idiot! Seriously, those eyes of yours are dangerous. You should be careful where you point them.”

  Stella didn’t know whether to laugh at him or strangle him. All this time, she’d been trying to guess Cyrus’s name, when she’d been using it all along. She decided she might as well laugh. “Good,” she said. “I’m glad Cyrus is your real name.”

  “Because it means you won’t have to memorize a new one?”

  “Excellent point, but no.” She grinned at him. “I’m glad because I like it,” she said. “It’s a nice name.”

  He grinned back, and hope sprang in Stella. Maybe they really could start over, even after everything that had happened. Maybe they could be friends. There was still so much she wanted to know about him. “Are all the people in the uncharted lands human-machine like you?” she asked tentatively. “Olarans?”

  “That’s right,” Cyrus said. “No humans, sarnuns, or chamelins. In fact, when we first saw your people—humans, I mean—we thought you were olarans too. It was only by studying some medical books that we found out your physiology is different.”

  “And do they all have…powers…like you and the Faceless man?” Stella asked. “Putting up barriers and changing their appearances?”

  “Some of us do, but not everyone,” Cyrus said. “Those who have powers are usually employed in some way by the alagant—sorry, that’s our word for ‘queen’—when they come of age, because we’re unique. I’m not sure if that’s what I’ll do or not. My parents don’t have any special powers, but they know several people in the royal district of Kovall who do.” He added, “That’s where most of the olarans live—the city-state of Kovall. It’s huge, bigger than any city on your side of Solace, and so beautiful.” There was a thread of longing in his voice. “A high stone wall encircles it, and the wall’s covered in murals done by famous artists. If the Iron Glory stays on course, we’ll reach the city not long after we’ve crossed the mountains.” He smiled. “It’s my home.”

  Kovall. All this time Stella had wanted to know where Cyrus lived. It sounded like an amazing city.

  “How did you get stranded on your expedition?” she pressed. Before, when she’d asked him this question, he hadn’t answered, but now that they were beginning to trust each other, Stella hoped he would confide in her. “What happened?”

  Cyrus didn’t immediately reply. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper she’d found while he was unconscious the first day they’d met. He must have hidden it and the beetle somehow when the guards had taken him. “I assume you were able to read this, since it’s written in your language?” he asked.

  Stella nodded, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. He must have guessed she’d gone through his belongings while he slept, but if he was upset that she’d rummaged
around in his things, he didn’t say it. “Why is it written in one of our languages instead of yours?” she asked, and then another thought struck her. “How do you even know our Trader’s Speech?”

  “The expedition I came over on was the last of five, remember,” Cyrus explained. “By that point, we’d picked up enough of your language from studying books and listening to your people. It’s not so different from our own. As for the note, the person who left it didn’t want to leave any traces of our people behind, including our language.” Cyrus unfolded the note and read it aloud. “ ‘I hope you find this because it means you got away. I’m so sorry. We couldn’t wait. I’ll tell them everything. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.’ ” He spoke the words with no inflection. When he’d finished, Cyrus crumpled the note into a tight ball and bounced it off the wall. “My teacher wrote that,” he said in a dull voice.

  “Your teacher?” she asked, surprised. Cyrus had never mentioned having one.

  “It’s actually an exciting story,” he said. He smiled, but it was a bitter, malicious expression, and not like Cyrus at all. “It just doesn’t have a happy ending.”

  “Will you tell me anyway?” Stella asked. She desperately wanted to understand Cyrus, to know what was causing him so much anger and pain.

  “The expedition I joined was divided into several groups once we crossed the mountains,” he began, his eyes taking on a faraway gleam. “Each group traveled to a different part of your lands. The idea was to cover as much ground as possible in a short amount of time. I told you we came in airships, right? Well, we hid them all over—in caves, deep inside forests, places we hoped they’d never be found. Our ships have the ability to cloak themselves, like an invisibility suit, but it was still no guarantee that someone wouldn’t discover them accidentally.”