Part I continued

"In the Eye of the Hurricane"

Chapter 7

Rosemary returned, eager for a dance. She came tumbling into my presence, caught up in laughter, her rosy cheeks as round as apples. "Your Highness!" She pulled at my arm. "Come! You promised we would dance, remember?"

I yanked my arm back. "Rosemary, I…"

"What is it?" She suddenly stopped, her face paling. "Has somebody hurt you?"

"No, I––"

Erick Plainstow, my scheduling secretary, made his fated appearance with that damn appointment book. "If you're done with dinner, Your Highness, I insist we look to our guests. The Princess Katya of Dabokva eagerly requests a private audience, as does His Grace Prince Finbar O'Brien of Wynnedown, the Queen of Morley's own son."

"I know who he is." I scowled. I received nigh unto three marriage proposals a week from him.

"Erick!" Rosemary snapped. "You can tell them the Empress is currently indisposed." Her blue eyes were fired up like fireflies against the black of night. She snatched my hand and led me on a wild dash through the crowd.

Our abrupt departure upended a chair and knocked over a servant, his silver tray clamoring to the ground as fruit went flying in all directions. Rosemary's laughter caught on the wind, and I couldn't help but smile as we weaved through the crowd like children at play, squeezing between lords and ladies who exclaimed in fright as we passed, hand in hand. A few decorous guests tried to bow, but we were long gone, diving into the darkness between two great hedges of green, laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

"Did you see Lady Burtzlaff's face?" Rosemary wheezed, tears in her eyes.

I tugged her blonde hair, unable to stop laughing. "You silly rat! She's like to have a heart attack."

Together we took to our knees and peeked through the bushes, four eyes in the dark. Our heavy breathing and intermittent bursts of helpless giggles waned into a steady calm as we watched the crowd from our hiding place. We've tumbled into the Hedge Maze, I realized, orientating myself to Dunwall Tower on my right.

The palace blocked out the stars, a towering mass of crenellated parapets, higher than any structure in Dunwall. In the whole world, really. Only the Clocktower in the Estate District came close.

"Do you think we set Lord Corvo on a merry chase?" Rosemary asked, grinning ear to ear.

"Hardly," I snorted. "He's probably behind us right now."

Rosemary gasped, looking behind her, but there was only darkness, she giggled and jostled my arm. "You horrible tease!"

I doubted my father could ever lose me in a crowd. His Outsider's Mark granted him Dark Vision, a spell to see through obstructions whether it be darkness or walls. But like all arcane gifts there were limits, and it was entirely possible I'd shaken off my constant guard.

At least, for the moment.

The Rose Gardens swelled with guests, the heart of the party, but as the night deepened into twilight, the Sunset Regalia spilled over its bounds. Before us was a wide expanse of barren ground taken over by dancing, encircled by impromptu Morley musicians striking up a lively tune. Servants scrambled to illuminate the festivities, barrel-rolling cumbersome steel drums into place which they then up-righted, filled with debris and lit on fire.

I watched the flames from the dark. The ground felt cold beneath my knees.

Rosemary leaned over and took my face into her warm hands, kissing the tip of my nose, then moving lower to press her soft lips against mine. I felt her tongue dart into my mouth before I leaned back, breaking the kiss.

I kissed the back of her knuckles before pushing her hands away, separating us further. I whispered, amused, "Are you trying to seduce me, dear Rosemary?"

"I have four months, remember?" she said with that devious little grin of hers. "But, no, Your Highness. I'm saving you. Back there… you had that look."

"What look?"

She shook her head. "That look you make…" She lowered her eyes. "When you wish in your heart you weren't Empress."

I swallowed hard. "It was just…"

Lord Cosimo.

He'd unsettled me, those dark eyes roving over my body. He wanted me, but not in a kind way, like Wyman did. No, he wanted me like the men that frequented the Golden Cat wanted whores.

"It's been difficult, Rosemary. The Crown Killer and––"

She shushed me with a finger pressed against my lips. "Don't, Emily. You don't need to explain, and I won't pretend to understand the pressure you're under. Only you, and your mother before you, could know what it's like. Just know that I love you. You're my best friend."

"And you mine," I said, squeezing her hands. "Shall we have that dance now?"

I expected her to bounce to her feet in excitement, but she looked suddenly distracted, her eyes drawn to the dancing crowd.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"I made a promise. He's waiting. Yes, he's waited so long. I made a promise to introduce you to him." She urgently scanned the crowd. "But where did he go?"

"Where did who go?"

I was stunned by the intensity in her eyes. She looked utterly fixated on something, her mouth slightly open. "Rosemary," I said. "Who are you looking for?"

"Looking for him."

"A relative of yours?"

"Nooo, Your Highness. The Prince of Pandyssia."

I blinked.

What?

I'd never heard of such a thing. The Pandyssian Continent was uncivilized, a vast, teeming jungle filled with danger and infested with strange creatures.

There were no cities, let alone princes.

Nothing good came out of that untamed wilderness. Hiram Burrows had all but confessed to intentionally spreading the Rat Plague by releasing swarms of infected Pandyssian bull rats into Dunwall's city sewers.

How he had obtained the rats remained a mystery to me, mostly considering the vast distances separating the Isles from the Pandyssian Continent. He'd hired a reckless adventurer, no doubt, with a black heart and greed for gold.

During my childhood, I'd read countless adventure books about intrepid explorers venturing into the unknown. My grandfather, Emperor Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin, had sanctioned several expeditions into Pandyssia, but each had fallen to ruin, disappearing into the mists or returning far fewer in number, the voyagers fevered with disease, starved to the bone, and crazed in the eyes with strange tales on their tongues.

They spoke of primitives living in the jungles, of subhuman barbarians who worshipped the Outsider.

"You know," Rosemary said, "he said the most peculiar thing to me."

"What?"

"I almost don't want to tell you––it's so ridiculous!" She absently fingered the emerald choker around her neck.

"Well, now you have to tell me!"

She frowned, visibly reluctant.

But then she suddenly exclaimed, "There he is!" Her blue eyes widened in excitement and she pulled at my arm. "We must go! I made a promise."

"Rosemary, what…"

I searched the crowd, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. The same old faces. "Who are you talking about?" I snapped. I was getting impatient.

"I'll show you," she said, leading me out of the bushes into the light. We crossed the distance, hand in hand. It was then I noticed my father and instantly I felt a blossom of heat explode over my cheeks as our eyes met.

Maybe I had drunk too much wine.

Corvo slowly shook his head at me, annoyed at my childish antics, running away like that. I shrugged my shoulders and nodded back. Okay, you've found me. What's the problem? He just crossed his arms, idly leaning back against a tree.

He remained outside the swirling throng of people dancing and laughing, seemingly content to observe his wayward daughter from afar.

Rosemary, oblivious to all but her destination, pulled me deeper into the dancing crowd, wading past swinging arms and thrusting legs. I felt as though I was being swept into a rushing tide, an undertow of dread pushing me faster and faster.

My hand slipped.

Rosemary disappeared into the swarm of bodies, my last glimpse being of her hair caught in the wind, trailing behind her in curls of gold. I was struck by how beautiful it seemed, as if I was caught in a dream. I was alone, surrounded by the lords and ladies of the Isles as they danced unceasing. Their laughter rang in my ear as they spun in an ever widening circle around me, their backs turned to me so that I could see no face among them.

The eye of the hurricane.

One man stood alone with me in that widened circle, dancers swirling at the edges. His back was turned like the others, but as I stood there, frozen in place, I saw him slowly begin to turn. His head first, as though he'd suddenly heard a distant sound, but then fully, he twisted towards me until we stood staring at one another, there in that strange circle.

He looked quite ordinary.

I didn't know what I expected. My heart was racing, evidence that perhaps I'd expected an exotic looking man. What would a Pandyssian Prince even look like? Barbarian eyes, perhaps, rabid and confused as he confronted the strangeness of civilization.

But he was unremarkable. His hair was dark, a black sheen with subtle hints of the deepest blue. He wore it short, with longer strands swept across his forehead. His skin was pale, untouched by the sun, and his eyes were a leaden gray.

His expression was equally colorless.

He was dressed in a handsome, high-collared suit, a black fabric that, if circumstances were different, would lead me to believe he was the son of a minor noble.

But we were caught, snared in the trap that was each other's eyes, strung together with the outside world swirling around us. This was no ordinary circumstance. Nowhere near it.

I broke the silence, forcing a calm into my voice that I did not feel. "Who are you?"

His head tilted as he regarded me with those eyes. There was something wrong, there. They looked… painted, as if the shadows and highlights of his pupils were hiding a flat surface. Something dead and cold.

"What did your little whore call me?" He spoke slowly, unhurried. "A Prince of Pandyssia, was it? Not one of my favorites."

My heart turned to stone. "Rosemary's not a whore."

"Rosemary's not Rosemary. Ask her yourself, Emily Kaldwin." He drew closer, one slow step at a time. "Ask her what the Outsider whispered in her ear…"

Outsider… Outsider…

Whatever else was said was lost to the sudden roaring in my ears as time seemed to stop.

Then the man––the Outsider, the Dream Whisperer, the Heretic of heretics, the Black Sorcerer, the Great Leviathan, that Spirit of the Deep––stopped right in front of me, extending his hand as though he meant to take mine. I thought I couldn't move, but then I saw my hand raise…

He took my hand, held unto it, and bowed low over it, kissing it softly.

His fingers were cold and his eyes were closed, the inky black of his lashes pressed against his pale skin. I stared at the back of my hand as he lifted away from the kiss, his thumb rubbing against the soft flesh.

My skin was milky white, devoid of the Outsider's Mark.

For a moment, I'd been afraid he had Marked me without my consent. It had been like that for Corvo. The Outsider had Marked him in Coldridge Prison without asking.

"Empress," he said, straightening his back and letting go of my hand. I lifted my gaze to his face, startled to find that his eyes had changed. He stared at me with eyes like black glass, two orbs of polished onyx with no iris or humanity to them.

I could fall into that gaze.

"Outsider."

I breathed the word.

He brought his hands together, the tips of his fingers lightly touching. "I wonder…"

He leaned closer, bending at the waist. I sucked in my breath, shuddering beneath that black stare. It was at once attractive and repulsive.

"How will you spend your last night as Empress of the Isles? Will you run, taking to the rooftops as you always do, watching the world burn from the shadows as you dream of a different life… or will you lock yourself away in your tower, pretending everything's not really falling down all around you…"

He strained like a child at the edge of his seat, watching my face with disturbing intensity.

I backed up one step, my heart thumping in my ears.

"No," I whispered. Then louder, "No. The future is veiled, even for you."

My voice was calm, but my hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my legs to steady them.

I held my chin high. "My father says the Outsider cannot know the future."

A long silence followed, his black gaze unwavering. This is how he seduces men and women unto madness, I thought. His gleaming black eyes were the most beautiful, haunting thing I had ever seen––I didn't want him to stop looking at me, and yet the desire tore at me like wicked claws.

I must remember Father's warning.

At last, the Outsider spoke. "Your father… a friend from the bad old days."

He grinned crookedly. It gave him a lopsided appearance, with one side of his lips higher than the other. Almost human, I thought, and shuddered. He's a god in human form. Not really one of us. In the next instant, he lost his grin, his lips flattening into cold serenity.

"Corvo's right," he said, speaking slowly. Always speaking slowly. He seemed to savor each word as it was sent out into the world. "I can't predict the future with absolute certainty. That's why your choices are so fascinating to me. But I see the players and I see the game. My advice to you?…"

He edged closer. "Know when to panic."

I sucked in a breath, buckling beneath the onslaught of too many questions, all of them terrifying, none of them made better by the fact that the Outsider was watching me react, watching me struggle, watching how I could barely breathe, barely stand, barely function… How could this happen? Why? When? And what could I do to HOLD ON?

He tilted his head like a curious bird.

"Be honest, Your Imperial Majesty," he said in a scathing, mocking tone. "Do you really deserve any of this? Half the city can see the lights from the party, and they dream of the delights within the palace gates. I wonder… What will your dreams be like tonight? Will you even be able to sleep?"

I felt pulled into his eyes, dark pools of hunger, watching, waiting. I held my breath as he lifted one hand to my cheek, his cold fingers lingering…

Then he was gone, his body fracturing into a swirling black river of sharp, jagged edges, like a black mirror exploding into a million tiny pieces, each a reflection of the Void.

I swayed on my feet, every ounce of my being screaming into the emptiness he left behind.

How will you spend your last night as Empress?

It was an effort to keep standing.

I felt heavy and disoriented, the outside world shifting back into focus. The faceless dancers were gone, replaced by people I knew, familiar faces of the aristocracy. Senators and businessmen… Lords and ladies… I saw Mister Alistair Fletcher, the master architect. He was dancing with his daughter, Philly, and when they whirled past me, hand in hand, their eyes met mine, openly puzzled.

I stared back, but truly saw nothing.

My vision seemed to blur as the dancing crowd faded back into anonymity once more. I stared into the empty space where the Outsider had been.

Gone.

"Your Highness! Your Highness?"

It seemed faraway.

Rosemary's blue eyes swam in my vision. She cupped my face with her hands. "By the Void, you're freezing!" She pulled me towards her, wrapping one arm around my waist. I couldn't help but stare at her as she led me out of the dancing crowd, whispers in our wake.

Ask her yourself, said a dark voice in my ear. I stumbled, dragging her to a stop. Her eyes snapped to mine, clouded in confusion.

"Rosemary," I said in a strangled voice. It was hard to say her name, not knowing if it was truly hers. "What did that strange man say to you?"

She frowned, looking confused. "Oh! You mean… Yes, I remember now. He… he danced with me, but he wouldn't tell me his name. I thought he looked rather sad."

"You called him a Prince of Pandyssia. Why?"

The Outsider had many names, but that… I'd never heard it before, and it frightened me that Rosemary had chosen it.

"Did I?" Her blue eyes sailed past my face. "I don't recall, Your Highness."

"What do you remember?"

She erupted in laughter, a little bubbling sound that oddly cut short when her entire face suddenly stilled. She stared at me, her eyes wide. "He lied and made up this ridiculous story! I told him, quite harshly, that he shouldn't be going around saying such things. The Overseers have taken people away for less."

"What did he say?" I demanded, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her.

She looked frightened. "Ow, Emily. Stop it."

"Tell me!"

"Okay." She leaned close and whispered in my ear, "He told me I was a powerful witch, but the jealous sisters in my coven cursed me so that I would forget myself." She leaned back and giggled, rolling her eyes. "I told you––utterly ridiculous!"

No.

I crumbled inside.

"He was dark and handsome, though, wasn't he?" she said, her eyes dreamy.

I turned away and headed unerringly towards the tree where I had last seen my father.

It was a desperate lurch forward. I didn't know what else to do, where else to go. My last night as Empress echoed in my ears like a roaring waterfall, drowning out all other thought.

Rosemary scrambled after me, a bright shadow at my side, but I couldn't face her. "Please," I said, not looking at her. "Return to the party. We'll speak later."

"But our dance… You promised!"

Her voice sounded small and innocent. I'm hurting her, I thought, crushed by it. I paused in my step and spared her a guilty glance. A cursed witch. She has forgotten herself. But did that mean I was not in danger? That I could still trust her?

"Please," I said, mustering all my strength for that single word.

I didn't wait for a response. I left her there and went to my father. I found him at the tree, exactly as before. He was idly leaning back, his arms crossed, looking out at the party with those dark brown eyes, unconcerned.

He'd felt nothing.

It almost took my breath away. I thought, perhaps, he would have sensed it… the Outsider's nearness…

But I knew it was a shock to him when his eyes finally turned on me, noticing my approach.

What he saw on my face… Oh gods…

He rushed to me and I collapsed in his arms, burying my face against his shoulder.