It was a beautiful day.
She hurried past the rivers of people into Imperial Square. To her right stood the stone rotunda of the Cenzarium and to the left the more brutish columned facade of the blocked Hall of Teshlor. Before her, at the terminus of the boulevard, rose the great golden-domed imperial palace—the seat of the emperor of the world. She walked past the Ulurium Fountain, across the Memorial Green, to the very steps of the palace—not a single guard was on duty. No one noticed. Everyone was too busy celebrating. That was part of the plan that Venlin had laid well.
She entered the marbled hall, so cool, so elegant, and scented with incense that made her think of tropical trees and mountaintops. The palace was a marvel, large, beautiful, and so sturdy it was hard to imagine what she knew was happening.
She reached the long gallery, the arcade of storied columns, each topped with three lions looking down from their noble perch at all who passed that way.
Yolric was waiting for her.
The old man leaned heavily on his staff. His long white beard was a matted mess. “So you have come,” he greeted her. “But I knew you would. I knew someone would. I could have guessed it would be you.”
“This is wrong. You of all people should see that!”
Yolric shook his head. “Wrong, right—these words have no meanings except in the minds of men. They are but illusions. There is only what is and what isn’t, what has been and what will be.”
“I am here to define that value for you.”
“I know you are. I could have predicted it. My suspicions, it would seem, have weight. This is the second time now. It has taken a long time to find, but there is a pattern to the world. Wobble it and it corrects, which should be impossible; chaos should beget chaos. Order should be only one possibility and drowned by all the other permutations. But if it corrects again, if order prevails, then there can be only one answer. There is another force at work—an invisible hand—and I think I know what that force is.”
“I don’t have time to discuss this theory of yours again.”
“Nor do I have need of you. As I said, I have finally worked it out. You see, the legends are true.”
She was irritated with him; he barred her path but did not attack. He merely babbled on about unimportant theories. This was no time for metaphysical debates about the nature of existence, chaos versus order, or the values of good and evil. She needed to get by him, but Yolric was the one person she could not hope to defeat. She could not take the chance of instigating a battle if it could be avoided. “Do you side with Venlin or not?”
“Side with the Bishop? No.”
She felt a massive sense of relief.
“Will you help me? Together we could stop him. Together we can save the emperor. Save the empire.”
“I wouldn’t need your help to do that.”
“So you will let it happen?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“I need the wobble. One does not a pattern make. I need to see if it will correct again and, perhaps, how. I must find the fingerprint, the tracks that I can trace to the source. The legends are true—I know that now, but I still want to see his face.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about!”
“I know you don’t. You couldn’t.”
“Are you going to try and stop me or not?”
“The wobble, my boy. I never touch it once I have it going. You go, do what you must. I am only here now to watch. To see if I can catch a glimpse at the face behind the invisible hand.”
She was confused, baffled by Yolric’s unconcerned attitude, but it did not matter; what did was that he would not interfere. Her greatest obstacle was gone. Now it was just between her and Venlin.
“Goodbye, then, old master, for I fear I shall never see you again.”
“No, you won’t. I would wish you luck, but I do not believe it exists. Still, I suspect you have better than mere luck on your side—you have the invisible hand.”
CHAPTER 14
THE COLD
The ceiling of the grand imperial throne room was a dome painted to mimick the sky on a gentle summer’s day, and Modina still thought it beautiful. Dressed once more in her formal gown, she sat on the gaudy bird-of-prey throne with the wings, spread into a vast half circle, forming the back of the chair. The throne was mounted on a dais that had twelve steps to climb. She could not help remembering the days they had forced her to practice before it.
“Do you remember the board you ordered sewn into my dress?” she asked Nimbus, who looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“It worked,” he replied.
“Who’s next?”
Nimbus studied the parchment in his hands. “Bernard Green, a candlemaker from Alburn.”
“Send him in, and get another log on the fire. It’s freezing in here.”
Unlike the great hall, the throne room was rarely used, or at least that had been the case until now. When the empress had been a mythical creature, the room had been sealed. Now that she existed in the flesh, the room was opened once more, but it always felt cold, as if it would take time to recover the warmth after those years of neglect.
Nimbus waved to the clerk, and a moment later, a short, soft-looking man entered. His eyes were small, his nose narrow and sharp. Modina immediately thought of a squirrel and recalled how she used to remember the court of Ethelred by similar associations before she learned their names.
“Your Grand Imperial Eminence,” he said with a shaky voice, and bowed so low his forehead touched the floor.
They all waited. He did not move.
“Ah—please stand up,” she told him. The man popped up like a child’s toy, but he refused to look at her. They all did that. She found it irritating but understood it was a tradition and it would be even more unnerving for them to try to change. “Speak.”
“Ah—Grand Imperial Eminence—I, ah—that is—ah—I am from Alburn, and I—am a candlemaker.”
“Yes, I know that, but what is your problem?”
“Well, Your Grand Imperial Eminence, since the edict, I have moved my family here, but—you see—I have little means and no skills other than making candles, but the merchant guild refuses to grant me a license of business. I am told that I cannot have one as I am not a citizen.”
“Of course,” Nimbus said. “Citizenship is a prerequisite for applying to a guild and only guild members are allowed to conduct a trade within the city.”
“How does one obtain citizenship?” Modina asked.
“Usually by inheritance, although it can be granted to individuals or families as recognition for some extraordinary service. Regardless, one must be a member of a guild to gain citizenship.”