Mirror Sight

“Very,” was Jax’s gruff response.

If the bell did not ring, the slaves would not be let out of quarters to return to the mills. If the slaves were not let out, then they could not do their part. Carefully selected members of the rebel group, mill workers who had access to both slaves and keys, were to unlock the manacles. The slaves would then make a bid for freedom as they wished.

Slaves running free would force the Inspectors to run after them and meanwhile the rebels were supposed to take over key imperial holdings—Inspector stations, the city gates, the office of the city master, and the armory. The rebels would hold and defend Mill City in the face of whatever the emperor sent their way. All to buy Cade and Karigan time, all their hopes pinned on what a Green Rider out of the past could do.

A Green Rider addled by morphia, Mirriam reminded herself.

As the top half of the hourglass drained itself of sand, the two of them stared at it. Still, no bells rang. Jax did not bother to flip the glass. He slowly moved his gaze to Mirriam, eyes full of fear.

“If the bells are not ringing,” he began.

“Then they have learned of our plan,” Mirriam finished.

She had hardly finished speaking when the door crashed in. Inspectors swarmed the cottage, muzzles of weapons leveled at her and Jax.

They had failed.

In the dark, stifling slave quarters that belonged to the Greeling Textile Mill, the restlessness of the slaves indicated knowledge that something was amiss. They sat on rough benches, their meager midday rations long gone. It was far past time for the bell to ring that was supposed to send them back to work.

The General watched the foreman from the corner of his eye. The man paced in nervous circles near the entrance to the long, squat building. Once or twice he paused to stare at The General, then continued his pacing. The General sat hunched on his bench as if nothing unusual was going on. If the bells were being withheld, then the Inspectors had to know something was afoot. A clever tactic, that, preventing a rebellion by withholding time.

The General watched as some sort of decision registered on the foreman’s face. He strode forward and pressed his hand on the bench beside The General. When he removed it, a key remained. So, he wanted to go forward with or without the bells. The General did not protest, and took the key. Meanwhile, the foreman caught the attention of the overseers so they would not observe The General unlocking his leg irons and passing on the key. The building murmur of the slaves, however, as the key was passed round, was enough to catch their attention. When they advanced with their whips poised, a dozen slaves sprang on them, beating them as only those would who have been held in chains and were mistreated and worked unto death. The overseers fell beneath the pummeling and did not rise again.

The slaves were quiet. They were not accustomed to being allowed to raise their voices, not even at the triumph of having their leg irons off. Not even when avenging themselves by beating the overseers. But The General saw the expressions on their faces, the young and the old, the light and the dark. It was an expression they had rarely known: hope.

The sudden booting open of the door and its rebounding smash into the wall, however, quickly smothered their hope and shocked them all into stillness. Inspectors poured into the building, guns drawn. They’d been so close, The General thought, but the plan had indeed failed. He guessed that the other slave quarters involved had been raided as well.

He stood, faced the Inspectors. He had this one moment of freedom, a moment of freedom to attack his enemy as he had once done on the battlefield. He picked up his leg irons, but he would never be chained again. Other slaves, sensing what he was about, did the same.

When he and the others rushed the Inspectors swinging their chains, it was into the fire and blue smoke of the guns.

THE BUTTON THIEF

Before Luke returned from the tavern and they set off again, Cade explained to Karigan in low tones how he’d hoped to create a diversion for them by causing trouble in Mill City. The crux of his plan was the freeing of as many slaves as possible. Without an orderly work force, not only would industry come to a halt, but so would Silk’s drilling project in the Old City. The Inspectors would scramble to round up escaped slaves while being harried by armed rebels.

“If the rebels take the Inspector stations, armory, gates, and city master’s office, they will have control of the city,” he told her. Of course, it would mean troops would have to be sent out from the Capital to regain control, leaving the Capital, he hoped, less secure.

Karigan rubbed her eyes. Even with her thought processes so muddy, she could see this was not going to end well. “You expect your rebels to hold the city?”

“No. That is not their purpose. They are to hold it as long as they can. Long enough to divert troops from the Capital to make our entrance into Gossham easier.”

She stared at him. “All of this so we can . . . ? You’re putting all those people at risk for us?”

Cade nodded.

“Oh, Cade.” She closed her eyes and slid back into her straw nest in the wagon.

“Arhys is the last heir,” he said tersely, leaning over the tailgate, “and if you can find your way home, you can change everything.”

Such a great burden, she thought. “What if we fail?”

“Perhaps Mill City’s efforts won’t have been in vain. Perhaps the uprising there will foment others throughout the empire. No matter how the Adherents try to suppress the news of the rebellion, it will get out one way or another.”

And the empire would make an example of Mill City, Karigan thought. She had wanted to find a way home so she could be home, with the side benefit of being able to inform the king of Amberhill’s treachery, and thus avert this future. It had all been very personal. But now, all those people relying on so slim a hope added a weight she was not sure she could bear.