Glittering Shadows (25 page)

Nan squared her shoulders and moved ahead.

The voices grew louder and closer. They turned a bend in the track and saw flashlights faintly illuminating the silhouettes of a large group of people.

“Ingrid!”
Nan shouted.

Sigi jumped. “Try not to give me a heart attack.”

Nan heard a few guns being readied, but she couldn’t see much besides the flashlights now pointing in her face. Sigi held up her hands, and Nan did the same.

“Ingrid, I’m sorry,” Nan said.

“Sorry?” Ingrid sounded tense.

“I broke Sebastian’s tie to Yggdrasil. I know that’s why you left. I thought it was the right thing to do, but…it wasn’t. I understand that now. I don’t want
you to go. We’re—we’re family.” She still hoped maybe she could convince them to turn around.

“I was the one who made a mistake. I thought when I found you, things could be as they were, that you would understand what I did,” Ingrid answered. “I realize now that I am
alone. Cut your ties to Yggdrasil and…and find what happiness you can.” As she spoke, the men watched with blank faces.

“I—I want to go with you,” Nan said. “I want to see Irminau and Yggdrasil. I’ve grown up here in the city. Maybe if I could
see
…I would
understand.”

Ingrid clasped her fingers together like she was considering this idea. “Is that really what you think? I thought you didn’t believe in our cause anymore.”

“I was caught in the shock of the moment,” Nan said. “But when you left, I thought of all the years we’ve shared. I want you to be as you were, with your long hair and
bare feet and your pet rabbits.”

“I don’t want to let you go either,” Ingrid said softly. “I want to fight at your side, I just don’t trust you.”

“You outnumber us,” Nan said. “Do you have to trust me? I wouldn’t have come if something didn’t draw me to you.” She held out her hand. She wanted to believe
the Skuld she had known still existed.

Ingrid’s hand reached out, but she didn’t step forward. A gap stood between them—of space and trust. Ingrid looked so small, the only girl in the crowd, standing in her
pale-colored dress. Nan wished she could grab her and shake the pain out of her.
Let them go, Ingrid! Let them all go. Forget whatever terrible things you saw, and be the girl you used to
be.

She grabbed Ingrid’s hand instead. They were going home.

M
arlis couldn’t tell Papa she was leaving. And she couldn’t be there when Freddy let him go, because today could not be that day. She
wanted Papa and all the other ministers to be busy with their meetings, late into the night, while she slipped away.

She had already said good-bye.

Now, how to get out of the Chancellery with Freddy and Volland? Pairs of guards stood at every door, along with a few posted across the street. They were supposed to protect her, and she
couldn’t imagine how she’d get past them.

She gathered Freddy into the fold to plot. “Uncle—Valkenrath’s house connected to tunnels that led to the workers,” he said. “He talked about their history, how
they were part of an older system that once connected to the palace. Does this house connect, too?”

“Papa never mentioned that our house did, but—”

“It must,” Volland said. “This house predates the Republic. It was first built for the Duke of Schwarzwasser. The old nobility must have had ways to sneak out and find one
another.”

“Well, then, we’d better look for the door,” Freddy said.

“I never go in the cellar,” Marlis said. “It’s very gloomy. Seems like a good place to catch one’s death.”

“I doubt anyone has ever died from going into the cellar,” Freddy said.

Marlis gathered candles and matches into her coat pockets, then walked ahead of them to the door. She waited a moment, making sure no guards or servants were watching, then opened the door
slowly, so the noisy creak would alert Freddy and Volland.

The cellar felt older than the rest of the house, like a dungeon, with claustrophobic ceilings and ancient brick walls. Two small doors formed of old planks led in two different directions; she
chose the one farthest from the kitchen, because the space under the kitchen was used for storing food and wine. This room was a catchall of junk better suited to the trash: dusty jugs with broken
spouts, pine boughs that had shed their needles with old garlands wrapped around them, rusty tools of unknown usage.

She was beginning to wonder if this quest was futile when her candlelight danced across an old loose door propped against the wall. She clambered over the barrels and boxes to peer behind it,
where the edge of a hidden door came into view. “Could this be it?”

Volland and Freddy pulled the heavy old door away and lowered it gently to the ground. The second door was locked into a frame with a plank across it to hold it shut; they removed that, too, and
used a rusty crowbar to pry it open. The door hadn’t been opened in ages and had settled against the frame. Behind it was a narrow tunnel that sloped downward and traveled as far as the
candle could see.

“We’ve found the beginning,” Volland said. “Now the only problem is, where do you suppose we can get out without drawing attention?”

“Valkenrath’s house linked to the entire underground,” Freddy said. “The subway system. Old catacombs. Everything.”

Two steps in, Marlis could already see the path ahead was going to split. The tunnel smelled like trapped time. It was difficult to imagine it would ever connect to something as modern as
subways.

Just when she feared they might be lost in a labyrinth, the tunnels intersected with the subway system. Not only were Marlis and Freddy too young to remember the subways, they
were never in the position to have used them. But Volland did.

“This brings back memories,” he said, as they walked by a car abandoned on the track. “I used to ride these cars every day. Freddy, what part of the city are the
revolutionaries in?”

“Mecklinger Park.”

“Are they really?” Volland sounded understandably shocked. Few neighborhoods had a better reputation than Mecklinger Park. Papa always spoke as if the rebels met in smoky dives and
abandoned warehouses. “Well, that isn’t far at all. We just need to follow the signs. Watch your step, Princess.”

Volland led the way to the station. It was very close indeed—they had only walked for ten minutes, if that. Even though she didn’t have memories of the subway, she hated to see a
part of her city forgotten like this, smothered in dust and sadness. “Wait,” Freddy said, lifting his head as if he heard something. He shoved past the broken turnstiles. She could see
morning light hitting the tops of the stairs.

A corpse was slumped a few steps from the exit, in the uniform of her father’s guard.

“He’s only been dead for an hour or so,” Freddy said. “Should we find out who killed him?”

“Don’t touch him,” Marlis said. She had never been squeamish, but suddenly she felt she’d had enough of seeing the doors open and close on death. “Is this the right
station?”

“Headquarters is a few houses down,” Freddy said.

“Then let’s just hurry on ahead.”

Freddy looked at her strangely. She imagined that he expected her to want to know how one of her father’s men died. But he didn’t question her order as he led the way toward the
house. Even for this street, it was grand, set back behind a stone wall like the Wachters’, rising up three stories plus attic. The rebel guards recognized Freddy, and they bristled at the
sight of Volland and her.

“It’s all right,” Freddy told them. “They’re with me. They’re joining our cause. I want to see Sebastian right away.”

The men were edgy, hands on weapons. They were strapping, rustic men with hair flopping in their eyes and sturdy, plain wool clothes—such a far cry from the sharp uniforms and regulation
haircuts of her father’s guards and soldiers. They made her nervous, too, like they might not follow rules of good conduct.

The guards showed them into a massive entrance hall. All the empty space was above their heads—the floor was packed with curious, uneasy men. The room was loud with conversation, her name
rippling back through the room as she was recognized. It seemed they had already been gathered before she arrived.
Celebrating the arsenal raid, no doubt.

The men cleared out a path for someone. This must be the revolutionary leader. The revolutionary leader? No, surely it couldn’t be. He was just a scruffy young man, leaning on a cane and
limping badly.

“Freddy,” he said. “Safe and sound. Thank goodness for that.” He shook Freddy’s hand. “But—”

“This is Marlis,” Freddy said. “I know a lot of you already think you know who she is, but there’s more to it than that. She wanted to come.”

He hadn’t spoken the word “Norn.” He hadn’t called her Urd. She was relieved he had left that off for now. “Yes,” Marlis said, “as events have unfolded
rapidly in the capital, I have realized how much of the truth I didn’t know. And my father’s top adviser, Diedrich Volland, agreed to come with me.”

Volland bowed, hesitated a little, and then offered his hand. Marlis wondered what he must be thinking, having left the hallowed halls of the Chancellery with all the distinguished men in
well-pressed suits for this disheveled lot.

“I’m Sebastian Hirsch,” the leader said. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Volland. And Miss Marlis.”

She hadn’t expected his voice to sound so distinguished. His accent was Irminauer, though well-bred; it relaxed her a bit. “I certainly hope to be here as a friend, if we can find
common ground in our goals.”

“Let’s talk in the parlor. And I’ll thank the rest of you not to eavesdrop.” He waved the three of them on, while he walked slowly. He sat down with obvious relief in the
room’s most comfortable chair, while Marlis just barely sat at all, on the very edge of the couch, with Volland next to her. Freddy stayed on his feet, lingering by the mantle.

“Were you injured in the raids last night?” she asked. “On the arsenal and supply bases? I presume you participated?”

Sebastian nodded a little, like that was a given. “I lost a leg,” he said, “to make a long story short.”

“A leg? Not tonight—you would be in no condition to walk,” Marlis said. Of course, he might have a healer at hand, but he looked far too in control to have suffered a grave
injury. He sat in his chair like it was a throne, while she felt so out of her element. “You were foolish to destroy the arsenal: We’ll need those weapons when King Otto inevitably
tries to wage war.”

“What have you told her, Freddy?” Sebastian asked.

“I told her about the Norns,” Freddy said, picking up a decorative paperweight that had been sitting on the mantle and tossing it from hand to hand. She suspected he was relishing
her discomfort here, after what she’d done to him.

“Well, it’s no secret now,” Sebastian said. “I’ll tell you the same thing I just told my men. Ingrid, who has been by my side for the past three years, had my loyal
men and me under an enchantment. She is
not
a military or political strategist, however.”

“Who figured it out?” Freddy asked.

“Thea and Nan,” Sebastian said in a lower voice. “And Nan’s gone. She went after Ingrid.”

“They’re gone?” Freddy furrowed his brows.

“The other Norns?” Marlis asked, clutching her hands around her knees.

Sebastian nodded.

Volland tilted his head at Marlis slightly. She understood that look; she took it as,
Don’t lose your composure, Princess. Ask him a question.
“What is your plan, Mr. Hirsch?
From what I understand, the rebels are hoping to overthrow the government and establish their own.”

Freddy looked impatient. “For goodness sake, Marlis. Just tell him why you’re here.”

“The UWP is trying to work that out,” Sebastian said, acknowledging Freddy’s comment only with a sideways flick of his eyes. “I agree with them that—”

“The UWP,” Marlis interrupted, unable to contain herself. The rebels had killed Ida and danced around the Chancellery with their crude homemade signs. “What are they good for
except destruction? Do they really have any plan for what to do once they’ve ousted—if not assassinated—the current leadership?”