Forged in lies

The Trust in Stone

The next day, Caius moved like a man made of glass. Every sound was too loud. Every flash of light hurt his eyes. The memories from the Lethe drug were settled, but they were there, just under the surface. A gallery of his sins.

He reported for duty. Captain Valerius looked him over at muster.

“You look worse, Sergeant. The medic should see you.”

“A restless night, Captain. Nothing more,” Caius said, keeping his eyes forward, on the wall behind Valerius’s head.

“Your dedication is commendable. But we cannot have you faltering at the festival. You are on light duty today. Guard post in the West Wing gallery. A quiet post.”

A quiet post. Away from Selene. Away from the action. Was it suspicion? Or was it just Valerius keeping his unstable weapon in a safe box?

“Yes, Captain.”

The West Wing gallery was a long hall of statues and portraits of ancient war heroes. It was silent as a tomb. His job was to stand at one end and watch nothing happen. It was the perfect place to think. And to plan.

He knew the access to the runoff tunnels was in the old guard barracks basement. But he couldn’t go there. Not on duty. Not with Valerius possibly watching.

He felt trapped. He had the knowledge, but no way to act.

Then, a messenger page—a young boy in palace livery—approached.

“Sergeant Caius? A note for you.”

Caius took the small, folded paper. His heart hammered. It was not official. It was plain.

It read: The balcony needs a flower. The blue one. Now.

It was her. Selene. It was code. Their code, from the Whispering Gallery. The balcony meant her private garden balcony. The blue flower grew only in one corner, out of sight of the main path. Now.

She was summoning him. And she was using a path only the two of them knew.

It was a monumental risk. In the middle of the day. On his duty shift.

He looked at the young page. “Who gave you this?”

“A maid, sir. She said it was about the garden upkeep.”

Caius nodded. He waited five minutes. Then he told the guard at the other end of the gallery he felt sick, needed air for a moment. He walked, not toward the gardens, but toward the service kitchens. Then he doubled back, using a narrow staircase used by servants. He came out behind a screen of thick vines in the Veridian Vault. He moved quickly, staying off the gravel paths, until he saw the blue flowers. And her.

She stood with her back to him, looking out from her private stone balcony over the misty city. She wore a simple blue dress. She looked like she belonged to the sky.

He stepped into the open. “Your Radiance. This is not safe.”

She turned. Her face was pale but determined. “Nowhere is safe. I need to know what you learned.”

He told her. Everything. The Lethe drug. The memory of Valerius’s office. The Silent Sister launcher in the runoff tunnel. The third bell chime.

As he spoke, her hand went to her throat, as if she already felt the phantom sting.

“A bee sting,” she whispered. “He makes a poetry of murder.” She closed her eyes, gathering her strength. When she opened them, they were clear and hard. “We must find this launcher.”

“I have a… contact. Mara. The Ghost. She knows the tunnels. We plan to search today during the shift change.”

“No,” Selene said, surprising him. “It is what he will expect. If he is watching you, he will be waiting. He will catch you red-handed, with a known traitor, in the tunnels beneath the palace. He will kill you both and call it justice.”

She was right. Valerius was always three steps ahead.

“What, then?” Caius asked, desperation creeping in.

“We let him plant it,” she said, a fierce light in her stormy eyes. “And then we move it.”

“Move it?”

“The festival is in three days. He will place the weapon soon. He will check it, surely, the day before to ensure it is ready. But he will not check it constantly. It is too risky. We find it after he plants it. We do not disarm it. We re-aim it.”

Caius stared at her, understanding dawning. “Away from the balcony.”

“Away from the balcony,” she confirmed. “At his signal, it will fire harmlessly into a stone wall. The third chime will ring, and I will not fall. His perfect plan will fail in front of the entire empire. And in that moment of his shock and confusion, we will have him.”

It was brilliant. And incredibly dangerous. It required them to find the launcher, navigate the tunnels, and alter a deadly weapon, all without being discovered.

“You would trust me to do this?” Caius asked. “To handle the thing meant to kill you?”

She stepped closer. The air between them hummed. “I trust the man who came to warn me in a whispering gallery. I trust the man who remembers his sins and weeps for them. That man would rather die than let that weapon fire.”

Her faith was a fire in his cold, dark heart. He wanted to be worthy of it.

“I will need Mara’s help. To navigate the tunnels.”

“Then bring her to me,” Selene said.

“It is too great a risk. She is still Echo.”

“And you were Echo,” Selene said softly. “Trust must start somewhere, or we are all alone in the dark. Bring her to the Glass Crypt. Tonight, after the last bell. I will be there.”

The Glass Crypt was the old, ruined greenhouse in the most neglected corner of the gardens. It was their most secret place.

Before he could answer, they heard a sound on the gravel path below the balcony. Voices.

Captain Valerius and Kaelen were walking through the garden, checking the perimeter.

Caius and Selene froze. They were in plain sight on the balcony. If Valerius looked up…

Without thinking, Caius stepped forward. He did not touch her. But he stood very close, his body shielding hers from the edge of view below. He pointed out over the city, as if explaining something about the skyline.

From below, it would look like a guard respectfully pointing out a landmark to his ruler.

They stood like that, almost touching. He could feel the heat from her skin. He could smell the jasmine in her hair. His heart was pounding, but not from fear of Valerius.

He heard the footsteps pause. He felt eyes on his back.

Then Valerius’s voice, calm and clear from below. “A fine view for strategy, is it not, Sergeant?”

Caius did not turn. “It is, Captain. One can see all the approaches.”

“Carry on,” Valerius said. The footsteps moved away.

Caius let out a slow breath. He stepped back. The moment was broken, but the charge of it lingered in the air.

Selene’s cheeks were flushed. “You see?” she whispered. “Even in this, you protect me. Now go. Bring me the Ghost. We have a weapon to turn.”

He left her on the balcony, a solitary figure against the vast sky. He had his orders. He had her trust.

And for the first time since he woke up empty, he had a purpose that was entirely his own: not to be a weapon, but to be a shield. And perhaps, to be something more.