by Anna Eluvae
"Where will we be staying?" asked Dravus. He couldn't take his eyes off the buildings. Some of them stretched to what must have been nearly thirty stories.
"We have friends in Parance," was Lexari.
"We have people who will give us room and board in exchange for the fame we can bring them," Nemm corrected. "We've sent letters ahead of us requesting their hospitality. They can hardly decline. I wouldn't call Quill a friend though. Hartwain either. Dravus, have you memorized the list of people yet?"
"Not quite," said Dravus. He couldn't take his eyes from the city. There was something about it that was slightly unsettling, sheer size aside. He turned his head towards Nemm, still watching Parance grow larger in front of them. "Hartwain has a domain of cats and Quill has ink?"
"Yes," agreed Nemm. "Quill always has his ear to the ground; hopefully he can fill us in on what's been happening here."
"You'll see fewer independent illustrati here," said Lexari. "Most of them are in the Iron King's employ one way or another. They've banned stories about outsiders as well, so watch your tongue."
"Outsiders?" asked Dravus. "You mean I won't be able to talk about the Flower Queen?"
"There are exceptions for common sense," said Lexari. "Just don't speak too loudly to too many people, or we'll have trouble with the Ministry of Legends."
"And we're not outsiders?" asked Dravus.
"In one sense," said Nemm. "In another sense, we serve at the pleasure of the Iron King. We have accounts here, as in other places, and a contract which allows the Iron King to call us in for aid under certain circumstances. Given that we represent a significant amount of military might, we are more or less exempt from meddling on behalf of the various Ministries."
They rode forward, horses moving slowly beneath them. They'd been in the saddle for far too long for Dravus's tastes. By the time they reached a stable on the outskirts of the city, his thighs were raw. They left their saddlebags behind and ready to be fetched by a servant once they'd found their lodgings.
It was nearly sunset. Long shadows were cast over the city, which Dravus used his domain sense to see straight through. With a start, he realized what had been bothering him about the cityscape.
"The city isn't natural," he said.
"No," replied Nemm. Dravus turned to see her smirking. "Few cities are."
"They're on a grid," said Dravus. "From above, it would look like boxes shoved together." He wished that he could stretch out wings of shadow and fly with them, so he could see the city from above. Genthric and Meriwall both had something living about them, an animal quality that sprang forth from how neighborhoods had developed over time. Parance must have been laid out from the beginning to be this hulking monstrosity of a city. It spoke to a frightening level of planning. As they walked down the streets, Dravus noticed other small things that marked this city as distinct from its peers; there were large paintings hung up on nearly every building with faces on them, usually with a name below. These were done in a stark style, something close to a portrait.
"Those don't work, by the by," said Nemm with a nod to the paintings. "There are too many of them, for one thing, and even if there weren't, people just walk right by them without too much thought on their second time down the street. They're images, not stories. They don't stick in the same way. The same goes for the daily chants the Iron King often makes his subjects say. It allows for some level of standing, but the effect plateaus too easily."
The crowds were ever-present. People followed them, in a way that Dravus had almost gotten used to, but there was none of the shouting and jostling that they had experienced upon their arrival in Torland, nor the enthusiastic cheers that they'd received when they were leaving Genthric. At first Dravus suspected that they were simply less well-known here, but he could see enough eyes watching him to see that wasn't the case. They drew attention, but that attention wasn't expressed in obtrusive ways. Dravus wondered whether that had anything to do with the Ministry of Legends, or whether this was perhaps just how people in Parance behaved around strangers. Either way, he enjoyed being able to walk through the streets without being harassed.
They crossed a thick bridge of iron and arrived at one of the dizzyingly tall buildings that had been so visible from far away.
* * *
"What do you mean he's not here?" asked Lexari. His brows were tightly furrowed as he spoke with who Dravus took to be the master of the building.
"I mean he no longer holds residence here," said the man. He had thick gray eyebrows and an imperious tone. "Is there anyone else I can help you find?"
"It's past sundown," Lexari complained. "Where can we find him?"
"I'm not at liberty to say," replied the master of the building. The building was nearly thirty stories tall, which meant that there must have been hundreds of people living in it. The master of the building would nearly qualify as a minor illustrati himself, and he acted like it.
"He's an illustrati," said Nemm with her hands on her hips. "Quill can't possibly be in hiding. He can't have just run off. I highly doubt that he would have asked you to keep his whereabouts a secret from us."
"All I can say is that he no longer holds a residence within these premises," sniffed the man. "Now unless there's someone else that you would like to see, I'm afraid that I must ask you to leave."
Dravus looked at Nemm's bristling armor, which had sprouted more shards of glass in the past few minutes. He had to admire the sheer gall of forcing out a handful of the most powerful people in the world without any semblance of a defense in place. For a moment, it seemed as though Nemm would insist that they be allowed to see the top two floors of the building, where Quill had made his home, but the moment passed and she backed down.
"Come," said Nemm. "We'll just have to try for Hartwain."
The streets outside were dark, but it was a small matter for Lexari to fix that. His armor glowed more brightly and illuminated the path before them, casting deep shadows that Dravus could almost feel. It was nearly the opposite of stealth; they could surely be seen from every one of the mammoth buildings around them. The long streets would mean that everyone knew precisely where they were.
"What do you think happened to him?" asked Wenaru.
"There's no way of knowing without speaking to a few people first," said Lexari. He paused for a moment and formed a spear of light in his hand, gripped so that it might be mistaken for merely a light source. Dravus noticed that Nemm's daggers were at her hips, ready to be drawn, and tried to get in the mindset required for a fight. It would be the work of seconds to draw his own weapon from the deep shadows around them.
"He told me once that he was one of the Iron King's bastards," said Nemm. "We were in our cups when he said it. I don't know whether that was true or not, but if he told me, he may have told others. If the throne of the Iron Kingdom is on the line, there might be those with an interest in cleaning up loose ends prior to the succession crisis. It would certainly make things simpler."
"He might have been exiled," said Wenaru. He had a morose mockery of a smile. "I've heard that's been known to happen."
"It could be any number of things," said Nemm.
"I didn't know the man," said Dravus. "But if he was murdered as a plot to secure the throne more easily, it would have been done quietly so as not to alarm the other potential claimants. The master of the building must have been instructed to sweep it under the rug. He knows more than he said, but probably not much more." He shrugged. "I don't know. We'll have to ask your other friends if they know what's happened to him." He looked to Nemm. "Your associates, I mean."
"Do we see the work of the mysterious man?" asked Lexari. "That's the question I'd most like answered. Chester Welling left days before we did; he might have arrived in Parance ahead of us."
"Or Quill was killed a year ago," said Nemm. "Saying anything more is idle speculation."
They walked the city streets. Dravus followed behind, unsure of where they were going. There was no d
anger to them at present; the four of them walking out in the open with bright light illuminating them would make for one of the worst battlefields that an enemy could possibly choose. The danger was somewhere in the future, when they bedded down for the night. Dravus recalled the ease with which Faye had entered his room. The domain of sound could deaden even the most extreme attempts at entry.
"We'll have to be careful," Dravus found himself saying. "If I were them, I would attack us while we slept."
"That's treacherous," said Lexari. "But not out of character for them. They tried as much when I was injured." He briefly glanced down at the missing half of his hand. His broken bones had mostly healed, but the hand would remain maimed until a number of illustrati could come together to weave bone, flesh, and skin together for him. "We'll bar the doors and sleep in shifts, at least for tonight. We might only be looking too closely at the shadows."
* * *
Hartwain's manor was small by the standards of Parance, only three stories tall. The facade was ornate, with balustrades and cornices aplenty. A braid of metals ran around the outer door, one for each of the metallic domains. Lexari brought the large knocker down twice, which brought a small woman to the door after a minute.
"We're looking for Mistress Hartwain," said Lexari. "Give her our deepest apologies for the late hour."
The small woman nodded. "I don't believe she's yet asleep. I will have words with her, if you would like to wait outside?" The question was polite, but the door was only partially opened.
"Very well," said Lexari.
Nemm leaned towards Dravus. "Hartwain doesn't stand on formality. You'd do well to forget your etiquette lessons for the time being."
Ten minutes later, they were beckoned into the house. Dravus noticed the smell of cats before he noticed the cats themselves; there were three in the foyer, sitting and watching, and another half dozen in the sitting room that they were led into. Hartwain sat on a chaise with cats flanking her, both of them large and gray. She was an older woman, with multicolored hair in clumps of black, orange, white, and brown. Her eyes were green, with slits for pupils. She watched them impassively as they entered, sipping at a cup of some steaming liquid. Her nails, long and curved, clinked against the porcelain.
"Well, well," said Hartwain. Her voice was rough, almost calloused. "It's been quite some time. A woman of glass and a man of light, a monster of flesh and this one, new, a boy of shadows." She blinked her cat's eyes. "To what do I owe this nocturnal visit?" All the cats in the room seemed to be watching the conversation intently. Dravus felt a dozen pairs of eyes on him.
"We had an open invitation from Quill," said Lexari. "We sent a letter ahead to him, asking that he make rooms available for us. Unfortunately, it seems that something has happened to him, which means we're without a place to bed down for the night. I know I did not request as much in the letter that was to announce our arrival, but we would appreciate what hospitality you could grant us."
"Let's not play games," said Hartwain. "There are places, just not the sorts of places that the world's mightiest illustrati can be seen in on their first night in the city. The birds and the mice would whisper about how you had taken a room at an inn like a commoner. You couldn't possibly have that, could you?"
"No," said Nemm. "But we also need to get our footing here."
"What happened to Quill?" asked Lexari.
"If we're not playing games?" asked Hartwain. "He's one of a dozen illustrati to disappear with no warning. The Ministry of Legends is likely behind it, though to what end it's hard to say. And now I ask a question in turn." She swiveled her head towards Dravus. "Boy of shadow. What was going through your mind when you attacked Zerstor?"
"Ah," said Dravus. He looked towards Nemm, then Lexari, hoping to get rescued, but no help came. "I wasn't really thinking."
Hartwain frowned. "Not a good answer."
"I was thinking that my life wasn't worth that much," said Dravus. "And if I died, it would be quick."
"A better answer," said Hartwain. She turned back towards Lexari. "This little shadow is the talk of the town. The Ministry of Legends has even encouraged some of it. I do believe that they might think him worth poaching."
"Lightscour has done much in his short time with us," said Lexari. "You can speak with him more later on. For now, we need to know more about what's happening in this city. The Iron King hasn't been seen in public for a year. We have word that someone has found one or more Harbinger artifacts. What can you tell us?"
Hartwain yawned and stretched out. "We can speak more in the morning," she said. "But for now, it would suffice to say that I don't know much more than you do. I'll have Celeste prepare some rooms for you, though it will perhaps be more cramped than you're used to. I am a woman of simple means, you understand."
Lexari frowned at that. "Thank you for your hospitality."
After a half hour, which was mostly spent sipping on tea with a bit of lemon in it, Dravus was led up to a room that had been made up for him. He carefully checked the windows and the doors; he was on the third floor, though that didn't mean so much for defense, given how high illustrati could jump. There was a door leading to an adjoining room and a closet with nothing much in it. Lexari would send for the contents of their saddlebags in the morning, when the real work of being in Parance would properly begin. There would be bards to go visit and digests of news to consume, but for now they had a place to work from.
Dravus was mildly surprised when Nemm walked into his room and laid down on his bed.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"We're sleeping in shifts," said Nemm. "Or did you forget?"
"No, I just thought … what about Lexari and Wenaru?"
"They're also sleeping in shifts," said Nemm. She began to take off her glass armor, which involved reshaping it into a coil of glass. "I'm going half-clad. I don't think we're in any particular danger here beyond the usual, but I'll have my daggers close by."
Dravus cleared his throat. "Are we sharing a bed then?" he asked.
Nemm smiled. "Well, that is what I told Hartwain. She plays at being a recluse, with a sad story about being left at the altar, but in truth she's a terrible gossip. The scandal will have traveled around Parance by the time the sun rises. Unimportant if we're killed in our sleep, I admit."
"You're not, ah," said Dravus. His words were failing him. Nemm was making no attempt at sensuality. She was merely removing pieces of her armor so that she'd be able to sleep better. She wasn't even proposing to take off all of her armor. Yet watching her become partially undressed was having an effect on him, even if she wasn't exposing more of her body than he saw during any given day on the ship. Yet there was something sour about the whole affair.
"It's an escalation of our romance," said Nemm. "The implication will obviously be that we had sex together, for anyone that hears about it, but there will be enough of a seed of doubt to keep it interesting. There will be variations on the story. We can pick the right one later on."
"It's manipulation then," said Dravus.
"We're illustrati," said Nemm. "I've seen men and women trying to tell only the authentic stories. The best of them tell fanciful stories that they can believe, but which aren't much grounded in truth." She nodded to the adjoining room. "Men who can imagine themselves as heroes, no matter the messy truth?"
"No," said Dravus. "I meant … it's manipulation of me." He shifted uncomfortably.
Nemm stared at him, then narrowed her eyes. "I thought we agreed to this," she said. "This was a tide that was to lift both our boats."
"We didn't discuss it," said Dravus. "We didn't talk together about the stories we wanted to project, you just decided that tonight would be the night that a certain sort of rumor starts spreading."
"You're going to lecture me about taking action without consulting others?" asked Nemm. "Did you ask anyone for objections before you killed Zerstor? Did you ask before you challenged Kendrick to a duel? Or did you just do those things be
cause they seemed like the right things to do?"
"Those were different," said Dravus. "I didn't have time to ask."
"What is it that's really bothering you?" asked Nemm. "Is it my history? Have you changed your mind and decided that you would rather your sterling image not be tarnished by association with the Whore of Abalon?" She watched his face carefully.
"No," said Dravus. He turned slightly from her, to look towards the window. "I've never cared about that aspect of your legend."
