Chapter 20

A sharp, buzzing clang shot across the Exchange. All the lights flurried and raced upon the pillars and a great clamor of voices sprung up from the people gathered below. Wall phones were clasped to ears and people shouted orders even as their eyes were fixed upon the pulsating columns. Morning sunlight poured down from the skylights, bright yellow and slanting, accentuating dust motes on the Floor, transforming them into ephemeral pillars of gold. The computing machines spun fast, steam and the clamor of metal parts adding to the din. The markets were open.

The first paper that hit her desk looked simple enough. Vala bent over the set of runes stamped out from a computing machine on the Floor. Perhaps they were her runes, or maybe her runes were used indirectly in creating the trade equation. She had no time to guess. She quickly scrawled out the conversion needed and pushed the paper away to the impatient trader. He inserted the trades into the electric panel, runes momentarily flashing in reaction as the trade ‘took' and entered the markets. Another problem hit her desk and then another. Bending low over the papers, she studied the outlined runes, reforming the equations needed to resolve the issues. She had no idea if the trades fixed a wilting harvest tied to Luiximor's strength, stopped an upcoming imperial rebellion, or set right the train schedules that were planned to the solar energy Luiximor fed the empire from his forest of runes. Either way, it didn't matter. She could identify the fester within the equation and fix it like a doctor cauterizing a wound.

She could feel Joe's eyes upon her even when he was most busy at the switchboard. Heep loitered in the shadows, his eyes fixated upon her rune work, but he judged as if preparing to punish her. Joe's stare felt speculative. As if he thought both in sync with the rest of the group and independently as well. She must find the time to test Joe's support of her. He was her hope for the plan she had to execute. A while later, she pushed aside the last paper and looked for him.

Joe angrily spoke with a guard in the open doorway.

"But sir, he insisted on meeting her. You can't say no to people like him."

Joe crossed his arms. "I don't care if all the world lined up to see the kid. I don't want any of them in this room. We're busy saving the empire."

"I'm afraid I don't have the authority to turn him away. He's walking here now."

She sat straighter, her brain spinning. Joe stomped towards her, looking worried. Perhaps the time had come to test that allegiance.

"Joe, who is trying to see me?" She whispered.

He hunched his shoulders with annoyance. "Don't bother about it, Flowers. We will direct him out as quickly as possible. Focus on your work. Heep? "

Heep turned, his mouth curving downward at Joe's voice.

Joe flicked his hand at the door. "Can you watch the prince? I don't like that he's coming here."

Did they refer to the Thevian prince? Why would he want to see her? He was likely still asleep from last night's debauchery?—

Heep looked askance. "He's not much of a security threat."

"I don't care. He's not cleared for this room. Entertain him and get him out of here as soon as possible."

She pondered this information. Joe obviously did not like royals and she hardly blamed him. Well, if Prince Rafael arrived, she would ignore him. She had better things to consider. She returned her attention to the latest arrangement of runes upon her desk. This particular trade was clever and rimmed with secrets, although she was blind to guess which of the runes belonged to HER plants; HER future. However, the gnarled issue was easily apparent within the rune lineup.

She handed the paper back to the waiting manager. "Reject this trade. It's a trap. A foreign rune is estimated to twist sideways so that its branches develop differently and grow to cannibalize the other, imperial runes. If you buy this portfolio, this rune will eventually murder all the other runes within it." Of course, it would have been handy to know who had ordered the trade and to what purpose the death of the runes served Luiximor, but she had to work with what she could.

The other woman stared at the string of runes and nodded in shocked agreement. "Yes, an interesting observation…dragon girl."

Vala watched her walk away to discuss the paper with her colleague. Together, they gestured at the scrawled runes and looked back at her, puzzlement and awe in their faces.

It always amazed her that other people struggled to attempt similar solutions and failed. Working with the runes felt familiar and instinctual, when interactions with people did not. How many years had she bent over various problems sketched out before her, seen their shapes floating around her head like hummingbirds, dreamed of their curved petals and felt the answers unfurl from their budding centers?

She felt oddly at home, seated among the flashing lights, watching the flurry of a million rune lights upon the pillars before her, sensing the adrenaline and excitement spice the air. Never mind the shackles upon her hands, the shock instrument ready for deployment upon her flesh, and her impending death. The Exchange workers in this room certainly must know about the finality of the short. Yes, they knew and didn't care. She was expendable, a working part needed to save the great imperial machine from collapse. She might have forgiven everyone if she was going to be sacrificed to save the world from the terrors of the eclipse, but to die so that Luiximor could keep his power—his crown—felt simply offensive.

"HAH!"

The bellow smashed her reverie. That unmistakable voice. Prince Rafeal had indeed come to visit her. But why?

Larger than life, the prince strode into the room. "Where is she? Where is this wondrous Vala Flowers?"

He had obviously recovered from the moodiness of the day prior for his boots thumped loud and his laugh boomed out merrily. The room shrank smaller with his presence, and she had to admit, the impression was magnificent. He wore an exquisite silver suit and his chestnut hair shone as though sculpted of bronze. How brightly those eyes the color of night took in the room, and how perfectly that firm jaw clenched within his face. He saw her and—she felt her stomach perform a small flip-flop under his gaze—smirked in pleasure. Why did he suddenly affect her so? He had shown her a moment of kindness and now she warmed to him. What was wrong with her?

"HAH-HAH! There you are." His finger pointed her out to no one in particular.

Joe looked annoyed and turned back to his switchboard.

Heep remained the better statesman. "Prince Rafeal. How can we be of service to your august presence?"

The prince looked down upon him as though noticing the man for the first time.

"Well, here I am, touring the Imperial Exchange to gaze upon the marvelous talents of this fine empire and I hear the most incredible news." He spun upon her desk, his quick eyes taking in the stack of papers, her shackles; the hunch of her shoulders. "The emperor's rune prodigy is here."

Damn him , she furiously thought, noting how the prince staggered as he approached her. He had been drinking again. And the morning had just begun. So much for his kindness. He was simply drunk.

The prince hiccuped and thumped his broad chest as if to clear his throat. "I thought, could it be the one who can look at a dragon? Whose rune path burns with unspent sunfire? Trading for Luiximor in the Exchange? And I figured this is an act I must witness."

Vala noticed that Joe's head jerked as if caught by surprise. She caught the feeling that the prince's words had deeply shaken the older man.

Heep only curled into another bow. "As you wish, Your Highness. Only, I ask you to choose a seat. We are terribly busy."

"Happy to oblige! I will be as silent as a cat." Rafeal grabbed a chair and plunked down next to her. "What are you doing, little creature?"

She noticed the annoyed glares directed towards him from the traders. Glares of which he seemed utterly oblivious.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be drunk at some party?" She hissed under her breath.

Joe placed a paper upon her desk and walked off. She studied the handwritten scrawls over the trade. Confusion smote her. Something about them looked different.

"You really do love insulting me and yes, I'm late to a fantastic social event," said the prince, breaking apart her thoughts. "But I'm here for a more sinister reason."

She glanced at him, confused.

His voice sank even lower, conspiratorially, his black eyes absorbing every motion of her face. "Someone terrifying has driven me into hiding."

She thought of Helen and wondered if he had taken heed to her warning after all.

He slapped his large thighs in sudden glee. "I'm fleeing from the wedding feast taster! I managed to escape just in time. Vanilla cream or chocolate mousse, stuffed wynter pork or roasted peacock…so dreadfully boring and complicated." He hiccuped. "Helen is wonderfully clever at that sort of thing but decisions simply overwhelm me."

Obviously, just in time had been time enough to imbibe a lot of alcohol. The prince was revolting and utterly delusional. The temporary spark of warmth she had for him vanished. She could feel Heep's annoyance emanate from where he stood, hovering by the prince. Heep also seethed with contempt for this royal.

She would ignore both of them and turn her attention to the paper which was far more important anyway. What did the runes say? They were positioned backwards in a way that made no sense. The runes themselves were useless. Low quality and small in number, not worthy of anyone's time, least of all an imperial portfolio. Why had Joe given her this trade to fix? She glanced at him but Joe stood before the window and looked upon the brilliant, twinkling expanse below.

Her mind spun. It was a secret message. He was trying to tell her something.

"I do believe that you're daydreaming." Rafeal snapped his fingers and laughed merrily.

She glared at his interruption, her chains smacking the desk with a hard jangle. "What do you want from me?"

He blinked, surprised. "You're quite worked up. Ease yourself. I only want to spend time with the imperial prod?—"

She held up her manacled hands. "Does this look like I'm some type of prodigy?"

He elegantly studied the clanking metal and she wondered if anger flashed through his eyes before his lips parted in mirth. "Yes, the insulting butterfly flew too close to the sun. She has burnt her wings. There is a lesson in this for us all?—"

" Why are you here? Am I some twisted sort of entertainment to you? When life gets boring, you find someone to torture ?" Her voice broke a little.

His lips curved into a deeper smirk and she wanted to punch that firm, arrogant jaw. "Maybe, I just enjoy your company. You're not like the other women I know. You're different."

"Oh? Because I'm chained up or does the aura of my impending death give my skin a special glow?" She hissed, completely enraged now.

Heep coughed. She had forgotten he stood beside the prince. Was he angry that she mentioned her death? Ridiculous. They could not expect her to meekly resign to her fate. Anyway, she had no intention of doing so.

" What? You are in no danger. My dear Helen said you will be the star of tonight's gala."

"Luiximor would sooner burn me alive—" Realization thudded into her brain. The solution to Joe's odd runes. Fire. They spelled out fire and destruction. A nonsensical, small trade that would erode in value upon purchase. He knew about her future and feared that she would die. He may be amenable to her plan.

"Watch your stations, it's happening." Joe called out.