its life was a very human thing to do. He could let this one go. After all, it hadn’t really killed his friend.
He stood up, brushing Slithers from his skin, then slung Andel over one shoulder and tucked the box under the other.
Now he could bring good news to the Captain.
“I’m going to see if I’ve got this straight,” Foster said, once they were all aboard The Testament. “They got caught by this island somehow, you don’t know how, the Elders caught up with them and killed them off, their Captain blew himself up, the other one got poisoned, this one’s a gibbering mess…and you’re all fine?”
Calder looked around. He was soaked in blue gore, which had mixed with plenty of his own blood. Every one of them was scratched, bruised, beaten, and exhausted…every one of them except Urzaia, who was merely wet. And happy as a cat that had just brought its owner a dead rat.
Andel was below, with Petal tending to him. She thought he was only exhausted and missing a little too much blood, but with Elders it was always hard to tell. She was going to test to see if he had been poisoned or infected somehow.
Thoughts of the quartermaster brought a mix of stomach-churning guilt and muscle-loosening relief. He had abandoned Andel for Jerri. But it had all worked out, thanks to Urzaia. But he had abandoned Andel. But…
His thoughts ran in circles, and he forcibly put a stop to it.
“Fine is an understatement,” Calder said, focusing on their one unmitigated victory.
With a flourish, he shoved the crown’s locked chest out for them all to admire.
Foster looked at it skeptically, Jerri with awe, Urzaia with pride, and Goss with something that looked like hate. He hadn’t said a word since Lakiri’s death, and they had all wondered if the Elders had done something to his mind, but hate might be a completely rational reaction. Calder could understand how he might blame this object for the death of his entire crew.
“Mister Woodsman, we need this chest open,” Calder announced.
Jerri and the others sent up a cheer.
He wished Andel and Petal could be here for this, but he wasn’t about to wait any longer. The Lyathatan, as per its agreement, had cleared the waters around the ship, but Calder still wanted to put as many miles between them and this island as they could. And they needed to confirm the presence of the crown before they could leave.
Urzaia made quick work of the chains around the box, but it took even his hatchets a moment to force open the box itself.
Calder had Read it already, trying to divine the crown’s presence, but the box had been made by the Magister’s Guild with the assistance of Regent Loreli herself. It was all but invisible to his senses, a deep void of Intent that he could scarcely believe existed even with his hands on it.
Finally, Urzaia pried open the box to reveal the Emperor’s crown.
It looked just like the paintings.
The gold circlet rested on a velvet lining, and Calder could easily picture it sitting on the Emperor’s head. It was simple and unassuming. Just an object. In a word, it was disappointing.
Until Calder touched it.
The moment his fingers made contact, he was overwhelmed by the force of the Emperor’s will.
He had dealt with Imperial relics even as a child, so he had thought he was prepared, but the weight of Intent and significance in this object outweighed everything else he’d ever sensed a hundredfold.
It held ten thousand memories, a hundred thousand, all bent to a singular purpose: to lead. To be a symbol of something great.
To inspire others to obey.
The Emperor only wore his crown to address crowds, and it was his authority, Calder could feel it in the metal. He didn’t wear this when he was drafting laws or personally bettering the lives of individuals. The Emperor had worn this when he needed to be the Emperor, the founder of human civilization, the icon of a single unified Empire.
The sheer impact of that Intent overwhelmed Calder.
When he came back to himself, he was lying back on the deck, staring up at the sky. He tasted blood in his mouth and realized it was coming from his nose. His head pounded in the beginnings of Reader burn. From one Reading.
Jerri cradled his head in her lap, staring down at him from above, looking terrified. The rest of the crew—Urzaia, Foster, Petal, even Goss—looked down at him with their own