Текст книги "Cress"

Автор книги: Marissa Meyer

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As she walked, the towels around her feet began to loosen and grains of sand slipped in and got caught between her toes, despite how tight Thorne had tied the ropes of hair. The soles of her feet began to burn and a cramp was threatening to overtake her left foot from the constant grab and release of her toes on the unstable ground. Her legs ached. Cress’s body began to rebel as they rambled up yet another dune. Her thighs would burn as she crested one more hill—but then her shins would cry out as they descended the other side. Her silly fitness routines aboard the satellite hadn’t prepared her for this.

But she did not complain. She panted a great deal. She swiped at the sweat drops on her temples. She clenched her jaw against the hurt. But she did not complain.

At least she could see, she reminded herself. And at least she didn’t have to carry the supplies. She heard Thorne switch shoulders from time to time, but he didn’t complain either.

Sometimes when they struck a flat spot, she closed her eyes to see how long she could go without opening them. Vertigo would set in almost immediately. Panic would blossom at the base of her spine and crawl up it until she was sure each new step would bring her in contact with a rock or a small hill and she would stumble face-first into the sand.

The fourth time she did it, Thorne asked her why they kept slowing down. She kept her eyes open after that.

“Do you need to take a break?” Thorne asked, hours later.

“N-no,” she huffed, her thighs burning. “We’re almost to the top of this dune.”

“Sure? No point passing out from exhaustion.”

She breathed a sigh of relief upon reaching the top of the dune, but dread quickly took its place. She didn’t know why she’d expected this dune to be different from the dozens they’d already crested. She didn’t know why she’d been thinking that this must have marked the end of the desert, because she didn’t think she could go much farther.

But it was not the end. The world was made of more dunes, more sand, more nothingness.

“Really. Let’s take a break,” Thorne said, setting down the pack and stabbing the cane into the ground. He spent a moment working the kinks from his shoulders, before hunching over and undoing the bundle’s knot. He handed Cress one of the water bottles and took another for himself.

“Shouldn’t we ration it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It’s best to drink when we’re thirsty, and just try to keep sweating to a minimum—as much as possible. Our bodies will be better able to maintain hydration that way, even if we do run out of water. And we should avoid eating until we find another water source. Digestion uses up a lot of water too.”

“That’s fine. I’m not hungry.” Which was true—the heat seemed to have stolen what appetite she’d had.

When she’d drank all she could, Cress handed the bottle back to Thorne and fantasized about collapsing into the sand and going to sleep, but she dared not, fearing she would never get up again. When Thorne lifted the pack, she took off down the hill without question.

“What do you think is happening on your ship?” Cress asked as they descended the hill. The question had been echoing in her mind for hours, but the water had finally made her capable of speech. “Do you think Mistress Sybil…”

“They’re fine,” Thorne said, with unrelenting confidence. “I pity the person who goes up against Wolf, and Cinder’s made of tougher stuff than people realize.” A pause, before a hearty laugh burst through the quiet desert air. “Literally, in fact.”

“Wolf. That must be the other man on the ship?”

“Yes, and Scarlet is his … well, I don’t really know what they call themselves, but he’s lunatic-crazy for her. Scarlet’s not a bad shot, herself. That thaumaturge had no idea what she was walking into.”

Cress hoped he was right. Mistress Sybil had found them because of her, and the guilt was as painful as the deep aches in her bones.

“So how did a girl born on Luna get stuck in a satellite and become an Earthen sympathizer, anyway?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well. When my parents found out I was a shell, they gave me up to be killed, because of the infanticide laws. But Mistress saved me and raised me instead, along with some other shells she’d rescued. She mostly just wanted us for some sort of experiments they’re always running, but Mistress never really explained it to me. We used to live in some of the lava tubes that had been converted into dormitories, and we were always being monitored by these cameras that were connected to Luna’s communication system. It was sort of cramped, but not too bad, and we had ports and netscreens, so we weren’t entirely cut off from the outside world. After a while I got really good at hacking into the communication system, which I mostly just used for silly stuff. We were all curious about school, so I used to hack into the Lunar school system and download the study guides, things like that.”

Cress squinted up at the moon, now so far away. It was hard to believe it’s where she came from. “Then one day, one of the older boys—Julian—asked me if I thought I could find out who his parents were. It took a couple days, but I did, and we learned that his parents lived in one of the lumber domes, and that they were both alive, and that he had two younger siblings. And then we figured out how to send them a message and tell them that he was alive. He thought that if they knew he hadn’t been killed after all, they would come find him. We got so excited, thinking we could all contact our families. That we would all be rescued.” She gulped. “It was really naïve, of course. The next day, Mistress came and took Julian away, and then some technicians removed all of the monitoring equipment so we couldn’t access the net anymore. I never saw Julian again. I think … I think his parents must have contacted the authorities when they got his comm, and I think he may have been killed, to prove that the infanticide laws were being taken seriously.”

She ran her fingers absently through her hair, surprised when they slipped through it so quickly. “After that, Mistress Sybil started to pay more attention to me. She sometimes took me out of the caverns and up into the domes and gave me different tasks. Altering the coding of the broadcast system. Tapping into netlinks. Programming intelligence software to pick up on specific verbal cues and divert information to separate comm accounts. At first I loved it. Mistress was nice to me then, and it meant I got to leave the lava tubes and see some of the city. I felt like I was becoming her favorite, and that if I did what she asked me to do, eventually it wouldn’t matter that I was a shell anymore, and I would be allowed to go to school and be just like any normal Lunar.

“Well, one day Sybil asked me to hack a communication between a couple of European diplomats and I told her that the signal was too weak. I needed to be closer to Earth, and I required better net connectivity, and advanced software…”

Cress shook her head, remembering how she had told Sybil exactly what Sybil would need to craft the satellite for her young prodigy. Cress had practically designed her own prison.

“A few months later, Mistress came to get me, and told me we were going on a trip. We boarded a podship, and I was so, so excited. I thought she was taking me to Artemisia, to be presented to the queen herself, to be forgiven for being born a shell. It feels so stupid now. Even when we started flying away from Luna, and I saw that we were heading toward Earth, I thought that’s where we were going. I figured, all right, maybe Lunars really can’t accept me this way, but Mistress knows that Earthens will. So she’s letting me go to Earth, instead. The trip took hours and hours and by the end of it I was shaking with excitement, and I’d worked up this whole story in my head, how Mistress was going to give me to some nice Earthen couple, and they would raise me as their own, and they lived in an enormous tree house—I don’t know why I thought they would live in a tree house, but for some reason that’s what I was hoping for. I mean, I’d never seen real trees.” She frowned. “Still haven’t, actually.”

There was a short silence, before Thorne said, “And that’s when she took you to the satellite, and you became the queen’s programmer.”

“Programmer, hacker, spy … somehow, I never stopped believing that if I did everything she asked, someday they would let me go.”

“And how long before you decided that you’d rather be trying to save Earthen royalty than spy on them?”

“I don’t know. I was always fascinated by Earth. I spent a lot of time reading Earthen news and watching their dramas. I started to feel connected to the people down there … down here. More than I ever did to Lunars.” She wrung her hands. “After a while, I started to pretend that I was a secret guardian, and it was my job to protect Earth and its people from Levana.”

To her relief, Thorne didn’t laugh. He didn’t say anything for a long time and Cress couldn’t determine if the silence was comforting or awkward. Maybe he thought her fantasies were childish.

A long while later, Thorne finally spoke. “If I’d been in your position, and I had only one D-COMM chip that I could use to communicate with Earth, I would have found some dirt on a hotshot spaceship pilot and blackmailed him into coming to get me out of that satellite, rather than trying to rescue the emperor.”

Though he looked serious, Cress couldn’t help but smile. “No, you wouldn’t have. You would have done the same thing I did, because you know that the threat Levana poses to Earth is much bigger than you or me … much bigger than any of us.”

But the captain just shook his head. “That’s very good of you to say, Cress. But trust me. I would have blackmailed someone.”

Nineteen

Kai scooped his hair off his brow, staring at the holograph that floated above the conference table with a mixture of horror and awe. Part of him wanted to laugh. Not at all because it was funny, but because there didn’t seem to be any better reaction.

The holograph showed the planet Earth. And all around it were hundreds of small yellow lights, many clumped above Earth’s most-populated cities.

Hundreds of tiny spaceships.

They were surrounded.

“And they’re all Lunar?” he said. “We’re sure?”

“Without a doubt,” said European Prime Minister Bromstad, his face grouped with the other Earthen Union leaders on the massive netscreen. “What’s most disconcerting is that we were given zero indication of their approach. It’s as if they all just … flickered into existence, ten thousand kilometers over our heads.”

“Or,” said Queen Camilla of the United Kingdom, “as if they were there all along, but we were unable to detect them. Haven’t we been hearing for years about these Lunar ships sneaking into our atmosphere, bypassing all of our security measures?”

“Does it matter how long they’ve been there, or how they got there in the first place?” asked American Republic President Vargas. “They’re obviously there now, and this is obviously a threat.”

Kai squeezed his eyes shut. “But why? She’s getting exactly what she wants. Why threaten us now? Why show us her hand?”

“Perhaps to ensure the Commonwealth doesn’t back out of the marriage alliance at the last minute?” Bromstad suggested.

“But she has absolutely no reason—” Kai huffed and dropped his hand to the back of his chair … what had once been his father’s chair. He was far too restless to sit down as he glanced around at his cabinet members and advisers, his country’s highly educated experts, who were looking as baffled as he felt. “What do you all make of this?”

His experts traded looks among themselves, before Chairman Deshal Huy started to drum his fingers against the table. “It does seem to indicate that they’re sending us a message of some sort.”

“Perhaps this is their way of RSVPing for the wedding,” muttered Governor-General Williams from Australia.

“Perhaps we should ask them,” said Konn Torin, tapping a finger against his brow. “If Luna is to become a peaceful ally of the Earthen Union, we might as well start opening the lines of communication.”

“Naturally,” said Africa’s Prime Minister Kamin. Kai could all but hear her rolling her eyes. “As they’ve been so open with us in the past.”

“And you have a better idea?”

“I certainly do,” said Williams. “This could be our best chance to reciprocate the recent invasion. We should coordinate a full-scale attack—take out as many of these ships as we can. Show Luna that they can’t keep threatening us every time Levana throws another fit. If they want a fight, we’ll fight.”

“War,” said Prime Minister Kamin. “You’re suggesting we start a war.”

“They started the war. I’m suggesting we end it.”

Kamin sniffed. “And you think our militaries are prepared to launch an attack against an entire fleet of Lunar ships? We don’t have the faintest idea what type of weaponry they have, and I think the recent attacks illustrated that they’re not going to fight by any strategies we’re familiar with. They’re unpredictable, and as much as it pains me to admit, our military expertise has suffered from generations of peace. Our numbers are down, few of our men have been trained for space combat—”

“I agree with Australia,” interrupted Queen Camilla. “This could be the only time we ever have the element of surprise on our side.”

“Surprise?” barked President Vargas. “They’re surrounding us. What if they’re hoping that we attack them? What if all this drivel about the marriage alliance has been a ruse, just to keep us distracted while they move into position?”

Kai’s knuckles whitened on the back of the chair. “The alliance isn’t a ruse, and nobody is starting a war!”

Camilla smirked. “Oh, yes. I’d forgotten that the young emperor is so very knowledgeable in these matters.”

His blood began to simmer. “This holograph indicates that while these ships may have Earth surrounded, they are still outside the territorial designations of the Earthen Union. Correct?”

“For now,” said Governor-General Williams.

“Right. Which means that for now, these ships aren’t violating any terms that we’ve established with Luna. I’m not saying Levana isn’t taunting us or threatening us, but it would be foolish of us to react to it without first coming up with some sort of strategy.”

Williams shook his head. “By the time we’ve finished strategizing, we very well may have been obliterated.”

“Fine,” said Kai, squaring his shoulders. “The Treaty of Bremen states we need a majority rule to execute an act of war against any political entity. All in favor to attack these Lunar ships, say aye.”

“Aye,” said Williams and Camilla in unison. The other three leaders remained silent, but Kai could tell from their pinched expressions that no one was happy about it.

“Measure fails.”

“Then what do you propose we do?” asked Queen Camilla.

“There is a Lunar delegate staying in the palace right now,” said Kai, cringing to himself. “I’ll speak with him. See if I can figure out what’s going on. The alliance negotiations are between Luna and the Commonwealth, so just let me handle it.”

He canceled the communication link before the other leaders could argue, or see how frustrated he was becoming. Frustrated that he never knew what Levana was thinking or what she was going to do next. Frustrated that he was bowing to her every whim and yet she still decided to pull a stunt like this, for no apparent reason other than to get the rest of the Union all riled up. Frustrated that, if he were honest with himself, a large part of him agreed that attacking those ships might be the best course of action.

But if war broke out, they had no chance of completing the peace alliance, which meant no hope for getting their hands on the letumosis antidote.

He glanced around at the other men and women sitting around the holograph. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sounding almost calm. “That will be all.”

“Your Majesty,” said Nainsi, rolling into the boardroom as the experts filed out, “you have a meeting scheduled with Tashmi-jiĕ in six minutes.”

He stifled a groan. “Let me guess. We must be discussing table linens today?”

“I believe catering staff, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, right, that sounds like an excellent use of my time.” He clipped his portscreen to his belt. “Let her know I’m on my way.”

*   *   *

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me out here,” said Tashmi Priya, bowing. “I thought the fresh air might help you focus on some of the final decisions to be made in regards to the ceremony.”

Kai smiled wryly. “That’s a very diplomatic way of pointing out that I haven’t been taking this wedding planning very seriously. Which is probably true.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, amazed at how good the crisp breeze felt on his face. He was still flushed with irritation after the meeting with the Union leaders. “Although, it is nice to be out here. I feel like I haven’t left my office all month.”

“I suspect there is security footage somewhere to prove that.”

They passed by a koi pond, shadowed by the drooping branches of a weeping willow and surrounded by a patch of the gardens that had been recently dug up and tilled, prepared to replant for the coming autumn season. Smelling the fresh earth, Kai was momentarily baffled at how the life of the palace continued—how the life of the city and the Commonwealth and all of Earth had gone on, even while he’d locked himself in that office and racked his brain for some way to protect it all.

“Your Majesty?”

He started. “Yes, I’m sorry.” He gestured at a simple stone bench. “Shall we?”

Priya adjusted the fabric of her sari as she sat down. The gold and orange fish swarmed to the rocky barrier of the pond, hoping for food.

“I wanted to speak with you about an idea I’ve had regarding the hired vendors that will be assisting with the wedding ceremony, but it’s one that I don’t think Her Lunar Majesty would approve. Nevertheless, I thought the decision should be yours.”

“Hired vendors?”

“Caterers, footmen, ushers, florists, and the like.”

Kai adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “Oh, right. Go on.”

“I thought it might be prudent to staff the event with a mix of humans and androids.”

He shook his head. “Levana would never stand for it.”

“Yes. That’s why I would suggest we use escort-droids that she would not recognize as such.”

He stiffened. “Escorts?”

“We would use only the most realistic models. We could even place special orders for those with more humanoid characteristics. Complexion flaws, natural hair and eye colors, varying body types and bone structures. I would be sure to find androids that wouldn’t draw attention to themselves.”

Kai opened his mouth to refute, again, but paused. Escort-droids were designed mostly for companionship. It would be an insult of the highest order if Levana became aware that they were at her wedding ceremony.

But …

“They can’t be brainwashed.”

Priya was silent for a moment, before continuing, “We could also use them to record the proceedings, in case Her Majesty or her guests attempt anything … untoward.”

“Has Levana insisted on having no cameras again?” The queen hated being recorded, and she’d demanded there be no recording devices at the annual ball when she was his special guest.

“No, Your Majesty, the queen recognizes the importance of this event being broadcast on an international scope. She’s put up no resistance on that front.”

He released a breath.

“However, with androids we could ensure that we’ll have eyes everywhere, so to speak.” She shrugged. “Hopefully this would be a precaution that is unnecessary.”

Kai fidgeted with his cuff. It was a smart idea. The most powerful men and women on Earth would be at this ceremony, making it awfully easy for Levana to abuse her powers of manipulation. Having loyal staff who couldn’t be affected could be an insurance policy against a worldwide political catastrophe.

But Levana hated androids. If she found out, she would be livid, and he’d like to avoid any more outbursts from the queen if he could.

“Thank you for the recommendation,” he said. “When do you need a decision?”

“The end of this week, if we’re to place the order in time.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Also, I wanted to tell you of a small realization I had this morning that amounts to one more benefit in broadcasting the nuptials.”

“What’s that?”

“Her Majesty refuses to remove her veil while in the presence of any recording devices, and so she will wear it throughout the wedding and coronation.” Reaching forward, she patted Kai’s wrist. “Which means you won’t have to kiss her.”

He couldn’t help a sharp laugh. The knowledge did relieve a bit of his terror, but it was also a painful reminder. He figured he would still have to kiss her eventually. The thought made him sick.

“Thank you, Tashmi-jiĕ. That does make it slightly less horrific.”

Her whole face softened. “May I speak openly, Your Majesty?”

“Of course.”

She withdrew her hand and knotted her fingers on her lap. “I don’t mean to overstep any professional boundaries, but I have a son, you see. He’s about a year older than you are.”

Kai gulped, surprised at a tinge of guilt. He had never imagined who this woman might be when she left the palace every day. He had never bothered to picture her with a family.

“Lately, I’ve tried to imagine what this would be like on him,” Priya continued, gazing up at the drooping tree branches. The leaves were changing to gold, and every now and then a breeze would shake some loose and send them pinwheeling down to the pond. “What kind of toll would be paid for a young man with these responsibilities, forced to make these decisions.” She took in a deep breath, as if she regretted her words before she said them. “As a mother, I’m worried about you.”

He met her gaze, and his heart lurched.

“Thank you,” he said, “but you needn’t worry. I’m doing my best.”

She smiled gently. “Oh, I know you are. But, Your Majesty, I’ve been planning this wedding for twelve days, and I’ve seen you age years in that time. It pains me to think how much harder everything will become after the wedding.”

“I’ll have Torin still. And the cabinet, and the province reps … I’m not alone.”

Even as he said it, he felt the jolt of a lie.

He wasn’t alone. Was he?

Anxiety crawled up his throat. Of course he wasn’t. He had an entire country behind him, and all the people in the palace, and …

No one.

No one could truly understand what he was risking, what sacrifices he may be making. Torin was smart enough to realize it, of course, but at the end of the day he still had his own home to return to.

And Kai hadn’t confided in him that he and Nainsi were searching for Princess Selene again. He would never tell Torin that a part of him hoped Cinder would be safe. And he would never tell a single living soul how terrified he was, every moment of every day. How afraid he was that he was making an enormous mistake.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Priya said. “I’d hoped, if it wasn’t too forward of me, that I might offer some motherly advice.”

He pressed his fingertips onto the cool stone of the bench. “Perhaps I could use some of that.”

Priya adjusted her sari on her shoulder, the gold embroidery catching in the sunlight. “Try to find something that makes you happy. Your life is not going to get easier once Queen Levana is your wife. If you had even one small thing that brought you happiness, or hope that things could someday be better, then maybe that would be enough to sustain you. Otherwise, I fear it will be too easy for the queen to win.”

“And what would you suggest?”

Priya shrugged. “Perhaps this garden is a good place to start?”

Following her gesture, Kai took in the stalks of bamboo bowing over the stone walls, the myriad lilies beginning to fade after summer’s long showing, the bright fish that clustered and pressed against each other, ignorant of the turmoil in the world above their small pond. It was beautiful, but …

“You aren’t convinced,” said Priya.

He forced a smile. “It’s good advice. I just don’t know if I have the energy to be happy right now, about anything.”

Priya seemed sad at his response, though not surprised. “Please, think about it. You deserve a respite every now and then. We all do, but you more than anyone.”

He shrugged, but it had no enthusiasm. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Priya stood, and Kai rose to join her. “Thank you for your time. Let me know your decision on the escort-droids.”

Kai waited until she’d returned to the palace before settling onto the bench again. A slender golden leaf fluttered into his lap and he picked it up, twirling it between his fingers.

Priya’s advice had merit. One bit of happiness, of hope, could make the difference in preserving his sanity, but it was a request easier made than fulfilled.

He did have some happiness to look forward to. Seeing Levana’s signature on the Treaty of Bremen. Distributing her antidote and eradicating his planet of this awful plague.

But those victories would come hand-in-hand with a lifetime of attending celebratory balls with Levana at his side, and next time, Cinder wouldn’t be there to distract him. Though admittedly, that lifetime might be cut shorter than expected. It was a morbid thought, that his premature death would at least keep him from too many painful dances.

He sighed, his thoughts circling back to Cinder. He couldn’t avoid thinking about her these days, maybe because her name was at the top of every report, every newsfeed. The girl he’d invited to the ball. The girl he’d wanted to dance with.

He thought of that moment, spotting her at the top of the staircase, her hair and dress drenched from the rain. Noticing that she wore the gloves he’d given her. A smile tugged at him. It probably wasn’t what Priya had in mind—the most hopeless situation of all. His relationship with Cinder, if it could even be called that, had been fleeting and bittersweet.

Maybe if things were different. Maybe if he wasn’t marrying Levana. Maybe if he had a chance to ask Cinder the questions that plagued him: Had it all been a deception? Had she ever considered telling him the truth?

Maybe then he could imagine a future in which they could start again.

But the engagement was very real, and Cinder was …

Cinder was …

He jerked forward, nearly crushing the leaf in his fist.

Cinder was searching for Princess Selene. Had maybe even found her.

That knowledge was fraught with its own questions. What were Cinder’s motives and what was she doing now? How would the people of Luna react when Princess Selene returned? What kind of person had she become? Would she even want her throne back?

Despite the lingering doubts, he did believe that Selene was alive. He believed she was the true heir to the Lunar throne, and that she could end Levana’s reign. He believed that Cinder, who had proven to be the most resilient and resourceful person he’d ever known, actually stood a chance of finding her, and keeping her safe, and revealing her identity to the world.

It may have been a fragile hope, but right now, it was the best hope he had.

Twenty

Cress awoke to a dizzying assortment of sensations. Her legs throbbed and the bottoms of her feet ached. The weight of the sand that they’d buried themselves in to keep warm pressed down on her from neck to toes. Her scalp was still tingling from its strange new lightness. Her skin felt dry and scratchy, her lips brittle.

Thorne stirred beside her, moving slowly so as not to disturb the square of parachute material they’d draped over themselves to keep windblown sand out of their faces, though the grains in Cress’s ears and nose proved that it hadn’t been entirely effective. Every inch of her body was covered in the stuff. Sand under her fingernails. Sand at the corners of her lips. Sand in her hair and in the folds of her earlobes. Attempting to rub the dry sleep from her eyelashes proved a difficult, painstaking operation.

“Hold still,” said Thorne, settling a palm on her arm. “The tarp may have gathered some dew. We shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

“Dew?”

“Water that comes up from the ground in the morning.”

She knew what dew was, but it seemed silly to expect it in this landscape. Still, the air did seem almost damp around her, and she didn’t argue when Thorne instructed her to find the tarp’s corners and lift them up, sending whatever moisture there was down to its middle.

What they found when they had shimmied out from beneath it was a little less than a single gulp of water, muddied from the sand that had blown up onto the fabric overnight. She described their underwhelming success to Thorne and watched disappointment crease his brow, though it soon faded with a shrug. “At least we still have plenty of water from the satellite.”

Plenty being their last two bottles full.

Cress looked out at the brightening horizon. After walking nearly the entire night, Cress doubted they could have slept for more than a couple of hours, and her feet felt like they would fall off with the next step. She was disheartened when she looked up at the mountains and discovered that they didn’t seem any closer now than they had the evening before.

“How are your eyes?” she asked.

“Well, I’ve been told they’re dreamy, but I’ll let you decide for yourself.”

Flushing, she turned back to him. Thorne had his arms crossed over his chest and a devil-may-care grin, but there was something strained beneath it. She realized that the lightness in his tone had also rung false, covering up whatever frustrations were simmering just beneath his cavalier attitude.

“I couldn’t disagree,” she murmured. Though she immediately wanted to crawl back beneath the parachute and hide from embarrassment, it was worth it to see Thorne’s grin become a little less forced.

They packed up their camp, drank some water, and retied the towels around Cress’s ankles, all while the taunting morning dew steamed and disappeared around them. The temperature was already climbing. Before closing up their pack, Thorne shook out the sheets and made Cress wrap one around herself like a robe, then adjusted his own sheet to make a hooded cloak that came over his brow.