Meredith pulled back and scowled. “That’s inappropriate, Chey.”
Whether she meant the comment in general, or specifically saying it at the memorial, I couldn’t tell. I just glared at the back of Chey’s head as Meredith shot me an apologetic glance.
“After the wedding,” Chey added, “you’ll have more influence over who he invites to important events.”
“Chey!” Meredith’s tone turned warning.
“Speaking of your wedding, we should discuss your dress and all the arrangements soon. Winter solstice isn’t very far, and there’s a lot of planning that must be done.”
“This isn’t the time to speak of such things.” But Meredith glanced toward Tobiah, her expression warming.
Quiet mutters echoed in the chamber as everyone arrived. Skyvale nobility, those from other cities in the kingdom, and even foreign. There was a duchess from Laurel-by-the-Sea, followed by nobility from kingdoms farther to the north. Gowns and suits rustled in the echoing quiet.
The late king’s brothers were already here, sitting in the first row with other family members. Prince Colin was too deep in conversation with Prince Herman to notice my arrival, thank saints. No, tonight their eyes moved toward Tobiah, who stood stiffly, but with far more ease than anyone who’d been shot just days prior should.
What had the messenger told them? How much did they know?
Theresa nudged me and jerked her chin toward Connor, on the other side of her. He pointed upward.
I lifted my face just slightly, my gaze traveling along a column across the dais. The marble split into several sections at the top, splaying like finger bones as the column flared and held the roof. It looked like a great forearm and hand; they all did.
And the ceiling itself—
I bit back a gasp as chandelier light caught veins of gold laid into the white stone. The ceiling was covered in angles and swirls that shimmered in strange patterns. But when I blinked and my eyes refocused, the gold lines resolved into constellations.
Astronomy lessons fluttered in the back of my mind. Five stars connected into the rood, and a nearby woman dipped water from a well. As the chamber grew warm with the heat of bodies, I let my thoughts wander to an overlook on Sandcliff Castle where my father taught me star stories. Radiants’ Walk was what he called it. It had been cold that first night, with the breeze coming off the Red Bay. He’d bundled me in his own cloak and stayed by my side as I peered through the pre-wraith telescope.
I’d forgotten about that. But now, more than ten years later, the memory surfaced with the salty scent of the ocean and the cries of gulls as they found their nests. I could almost hear my father’s voice in my ear as he showed me how to find the boat and the cup.
I missed him. Those moments. That innocence. The security of my father’s arms around me.
Now Tobiah’s father was gone, too.
I dropped my attention back to the dais where Tobiah was speaking to his mother, urging her to sit and rest until the memorial began. But even as she started to acquiesce, a hidden piano struck a chord, and other instruments joined a moment later. Strings, winds, and bass.
As one, the audience stood.
As the priests came down the aisles, the thousands of attendees sang a remembrance hymn. Our voices swelled through the chamber, crashing and crushing like waves. I shivered with chills; on the dais, Tobiah looked just as haunted.
By the end of the song, a handful of priests stood on the dais with the queen and crown prince. They dipped their hands into the pool of water and began a prayer. Everyone sat as the memorial began with an account of Terrell’s life and his honors.
A few times I had to shush Carl and Connor, while our neighbors flashed glares, but the chamber was noisy with the movement and breath of thousands of others. My mind wandered to the city rooftops, the open sky, and pure, uncomplicated vigilantism.
The cathedral was silent as one speaker stepped down and another stepped up. But before he could begin, water erupted up from the pool and the entire building trembled. Gas lamps shuddered and flickered, and droplets of water sprayed over us.
Screams sounded from all around the cathedral, echoing in the huge chamber. Guards surged to their feet, swords drawn as they moved toward their charges.
“Under the bench!” I pushed Theresa to the floor. Just as I was reaching for Connor, shouting the same instructions, a booming voice came from above.
“Wilhelmina!”
I knew that voice.
“You cannot hide from me!”
Dread seeped into every piece of me as I stepped backward, away from Theresa and the others, into an aisle—and into enormous white hands.
A sharp crack ripped through the chamber, and everyone looked up as the golden heavens split in two.
ELEVEN