Foundryside (The Founders Trilogy #1) - Robert Jackson Bennett Page 0,187

said softly. “I’ve got ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes to find out.” She found a gap in his armor, and stabbed the blade deep up into his left bicep. He felt the pain, but his mind told him to disregard it. “Don’t worry, brave soldier—I’ll find a way to make you screa—”

Then she paused. Probably because it sounded like someone was already screaming—and the sound was coming from above.

Estelle looked up, through the round window in the ceiling.

There was a speck of black in front of the moon that seemed to be getting…bigger.

Estelle watched, bewildered, as a filthy, dusty, screaming girl in black came hurtling out of the sky to land on the skylight.

“…aaaaaAAAAAAH-OOF!” said the girl, landing on the window with a solid thud.

Estelle’s mouth fell open. She whispered, “What…”

The girl rose up, shook herself, and looked down through the window at them. And though Gregor’s mind was overtaken with his commands—kill the woman, take the key, take the box—he couldn’t help but recognize her.

I know this girl…But did she just fly? Out of the sky?

* * *

Sancia stared down at the surreal sight below her. Tribuno Candiano’s office appeared to be filled with mangled corpses—one of which seemed to be Gregor Dandolo, who lay bleeding on the floor with blank, empty eyes, clad in a suit of black armor. Estelle Candiano sat on his chest, holding a dagger, and she was staring up at Sancia in shock. Beside them was Tribuno’s desk, upon which sat Valeria’s box—and though she couldn’t see Clef or the imperiat, surely they were in there as well.

She wanted to leap in and save Clef—the person who, for so long, had been her closest friend, her most trusted ally. Her heart hurt to think of losing or hurting him, after all this pain. But she knew there were greater things at risk right now—and she knew that someone as powerless as she would only ever have one shot at taking out someone like Estelle.

One day I’ll live a life that doesn’t force me to make such cold-blooded decisions, she thought. But today is not that day.

She touched the dome of the Mountain with a finger.

said the Mountain’s voice in her mind.

said Sancia.

She took her hand away, pulled off the gravity plates, and shut her eyes.

said the plates.

There was a pause.

said the plates.

said the plates.

She opened her eyes as the plates began softly vibrating. Then she slammed the plates down on the window.

She locked eyes with Estelle Candiano, grinned, and waved good-bye. Then she pulled out her thin cord of rope, looped it around the neck of a gargoyle, and started rappelling down the side of the Mountain.

* * *

Estelle stared up at the device sitting just above her on the opposite side of the window. She recognized it immediately, of course. She had coaxed Tomas into designing the damned thing over years, after all.

She watched as the gravity plates started vibrating faster and faster, like a cymbal being struck again and again…and then it began to glow a soft, blue light.

The building around her began to groan. Clouds of dust floated down as the vaulted ceiling shuddered and moaned.

“Shit,” said Estelle. She staggered off the armored man’s chest and dove for the imperiat. She’d not exactly had a lot of time to acquaint herself with the device—but she’d have to make do now.

* * *

On the streets outside the Candiano campo wall, Orso and Berenice took turns peering through a spyglass at the Mountain. It looked like someone had turned on a new light, shining on its surface—a blue one, glowing with a queerly fluttering light.

Orso peered at it. “What the hell is tha—”

He stopped—because then, with a pop that they could hear even from where they stood, huge cracks shot across the dome of the Candianos…and then they started spreading. Fast.

The cracks flowed in a curious pattern, she noticed: it was like a spiraled spider web, with all the cracks and lines rotating around the blue star.

Then the splinters and fragments of the dome began to retract inward, toward the star.

“Oh my God,” said Berenice.

The skin of the