by Anna Eluvae
"But that's just it, isn't it?" asked Nemm. "You don't need to care about my history of promiscuity, you only need to care that other people care."
"I don't care that they care," said Dravus. "I can't feel so much of a difference in my power from one day to the next. Even if I could, I don't know that I would be able to ascribe the change to one specific thing. If it's the idea of Dravus that's important, as Wenaru said, then I have no idea what the best courses of action are to increase my own standing. I trust you in that regard, at least. If you," Dravus stopped. He had a sudden lump in his throat. "If you have done things in the past, they can remain there."
Nemm's features softened. "I'm sorry," said Nemm. She reached up to pull out the glass shards that held her hair in place. The coif fell down slowly as she plucked the pins one-by-one. "I shouldn't have made that accusation. Before I can apologize for any other misunderstanding between us, I need to know what it is you think I've done."
Dravus looked at her. She had been sculpted by illustrati hands to be achingly beautiful. Some different harsh alchemy had shaped her into a creature of nearly uncontested death. "I wanted a partner," he said. "I wanted us to talk about things and make plans together. The best moments I've had since leaving Genthric have been in your company. When you teach combat, or even etiquette, I have the sense that we're engaged in a dialog together. It's not a dialog on even terms, I know you have the benefits of experience and age, but it was nonetheless a conversation that we were having together. Do you remember writing the letter with me? Quibbling over word choices and which information to leave in or take out? Wasn't there something special in that?"
"A nation balanced on the knife-edge of our subterfuge is the epitome of what our friendship should be?" asked Nemm. Her words were mordant, but there was a faint smile on her lips.
"Something like that," said Dravus. "If it's important that people believe we spent a night of passion together, I only want you to explain that to me before you go ahead with it."
"Fair enough," said Nemm. "I can see where I might have been seen to be overstepping."
"Issuing apologies was part of our etiquette lessons," said Dravus.
"I'm sorry," said Nemm. "Next time, I'll speak with you first, if that's something that I can reasonably do given whatever constraints I might be under."
"That's all I wanted," said Dravus.
"And with that settled, you're taking the first shift of guard duty. I'll be sleeping as lightly as I can. I'll take second shift, then wake Lexari for the third. Wake me when a few hours have passed. Don't lay down, or you're liable to fall asleep yourself. I can share the bed, or you can take the floor if you would be more comfortable. We'll find a better place to sleep tomorrow."
Dravus nodded. "Good night."
"Good night," said Nemm.
He had never gone on watch before, but it was roughly as dull as he had expected. He alternated between exercising his domain by making objects out of shadows, watching Nemm sleep, and looking out the window and into the city. He entertained notions of Faye making her return for another conversation. Dravus had no idea what he would say to that, other than to make the case for Nemm as not being possessed of the same attributes that made Lexari troublesome towards any attempt at removing the illustrati from power. He wondered whether that was really the end goal, but three hours of sitting in the shadows didn't do much in the way of helping him think.
Chapter 14
Dravus woke up to a cat licking his face.
"I've always taken to dogs instead of cats," said Nemm. She was laying in bed next to him, watching him. She still had her armor on, but it was clear that she was only just waking up, same as him. Nemm frowned slightly. She reached over to brush a curl of hair from his face, then petted the cat. Her face was softer following a night's sleep. By the light coming in through the window, it was just barely past dawn.
Dravus pushed the large tortoiseshell cat from on top of him and sat up. He'd made sure that the door was closed the night before. He looked towards the door, worried that he would find it open, or that he would spot Faye standing at the foot of the bed with her daggers drawn.
"Relax," murmured Nemm. "It's a guard cat. I went to check on Lexari and Wenaru last night; when I came back into the room, this little fellow followed me in. He curled up near your feet, so I thought there wasn't any harm." She yawned. "No attacks in the night, as you might have surmised."
Dravus flopped back down on the bed, then turned to look at Nemm. "I remember the stories about you as a child. You had puppies."
"Yes," replied Nemm. She seemed in no particular hurry to wake up. "A new one every month. My husband hated dogs, but he loved seeing me with a small, innocent puppy in my arms. I would go to sleep with a dog that had gotten too big, then wake with a new puppy, often fresh from his mother's womb. Eventually I had to ask him to stop giving them to me. There was a feeling that came with losing a dog I'd bonded with …" She trailed off. The sleepiness seemed to leave her face. Nemm rose from the bed and began to put pieces of her armor back on. "If Hartwain offers you a cat, it's important that you accept it. If nothing else, the ship needs a new mouser."
"You don't talk about your former husband much," said Dravus. She'd broached the topic only once; Dravus had been too cautious to ask questions. He watched her pinning her hair back into place with spars of glass that twisted like living things in her fingers.
"It was more than a decade ago that he died," said Nemm. "Once you've lived a little bit longer, you'll realize how quickly the past fades away. Living as a new queen with all the attention in the world wasn't what I would call a hardship." She paused slightly. "He didn't touch me."
"Ah," said Dravus.
"I was afraid of my marital duties," said Nemm. "I was nine years old when we were wed. It was a scandal that happened right at a time when there was a lull at court. The first night I lay there in fear, but my husband made no move for me. The stories always make me out to be much younger than I was, but I was old enough to have some awareness of the world. I thought perhaps he would exercise his duty when I grew older, but as I moved from girlhood to womanhood the only change in his demeanor was that he took less of an interest in me." Nemm looked around the room. "I'm certain that my makeup is a mess, but we don't seem to have a mirror anywhere for me to confirm it."
"You look beautiful," said Dravus.
Nemm squinted at him, as though he had made a joke. "Well, of course I'm beautiful. I'm well-known for it. I'm not terribly modest. The question is whether my makeup is a mess, and if so, how much." She stretched out. "At any rate, I don't expect you to believe the true history of my childhood — few do — but most of the stories from my youth have more to do with my husband than they do with me. Elaborate parties, twelve-course meals, fancy gifts and expensive toys, all were provided by my husband to me. He had ideas of how a girl should think and act, which led him to lavish all this unasked for attention on me."
"I believe you," said Dravus. "The stories never seemed to have the ring of truth to them. My mother said you fed glass to a puppy once."
"I would laugh at the absurdity of it," said Nemm. "But I've heard that one before. Any humor I might take from it is now long gone."
"I'm sorry," said Dravus. "I mean … I'm sorry that so many of the stories about you are so unpleasant."
"Most of them I earned," said Nemm. "Some of them I invented myself, useful lies designed to help me accumulate power. Once I realized how much I'd been maligned for my childhood, it was the obvious thing to do." She cocked her head to the side. "I hear a coach approaching, which means that we have company." Nemm paused before continuing. "Thank you for listening to me. It's as Wenaru said, there's an idea of a person that lives inside your head. Even if it means you think poorly of me, I'd like for your idea of me to match my reality."
* * *
They came down to the sitting room, where Hartwain was waiting for them. An enormous black cat was curled up on the chaise next to her;
it was nearly the size of a pony, if not a full-grown horse. Dravus had to keep himself from jumping when he saw it, which caused Hartwain to smirk at him. Wenaru and Lexari entered the room soon after Dravus had taken his seat.
"I trust that the arrangements were adequate?" asked Hartwain.
"Very much so," said Lexari. "We will do our best not to lean on your generosity for long."
"We've had a visitor," said Hartwain. "It is of course the height of rudeness to entertain a caller while there are already guests present, but if you would give me leave to introduce him?"
The way she said it gave no room for argument. "Of course we would be delighted to make the acquaintance of anyone who has been given the privilege of calling upon you."
"May I present to you Jacques Fabben, the Minister of Legends," Hartwain intoned.
The man who entered the sitting room wore a long sash decorated with medals, along with a turban that sat high on his head. It was a style that Dravus was unfamiliar with. The man's face was nearly covered in a thick beard, which obscured the thin line of his mouth. He had dark, haunted eyes.
"My pardon for the intrusion," said Jacques.
Hartwain gave the introductions, though Jacques would have been well-familiar with them all even if he hadn't been in charge of the illustrati of the Iron Kingdom. Jacques gave a low bow towards Nemm, as befit her status as queen-in-exile, which she seemed to accept with an undue amount of amusement. Dravus had to wonder whether she thought of her deranged husband when she was given the royal title.
"May I ask what happened to your predecessor?" asked Lexari after the formalities were done with and the minister was seated. "Laurence was a dear friend of mine. I hadn't heard word of his retirement."
"He passed, I'm afraid," said Jacques. "Died in the night from causes that are as-yet unknown."
"A shame," murmured Lexari. "And I hear that the Iron King is in ill health as well?"
Jacques coughed into his fist. "Parance swirls with rumors even in the best of times, and these are not the best of times."
"He's sequestered himself away for more than a year," said Wenaru. "That seems more than rumor to me."
"I'm afraid my business keeps me mostly within Parance itself," said Jacques. "But I have not come here to discuss the Iron King, nor, I apologize, to take breakfast with the Lady Hartwain. I have come seeking the aid of the most powerful illustrati the world has to offer."
"What kind of aid?" asked Dravus. That was more blunt than Lexari would have put it. The minister looked at Dravus as though surprised to see him in the room.
"There has been a rash of disappearances," said Jacques. "Illustrati, all of them."
"Fire illustrati among their number?" asked Lexari. He had moved towards the edge of his seat. His armor was glowing more brightly.
"Yes," nodded Jacques. "You've heard then." He sighed. "A number of mills have been temporarily shut down until we can elevate more illustrati to take their place. The Iron Kingdom has a number of dependencies, but even with the redundancies we have in place, the losses have been hitting us quite hard. Without someone to heat the boilers, the mills can't run. That in turn slows down every merchant and artisan that depends on the output of those mills."
"We'll need a catalog of who's missing," said Nemm. "Have corpses been found?"
"None," said Jacques.
"What about Quill?" asked Lexari.
"He will be included in the catalog," said the minister.
An uneasy silence settled over the room. Hartwain stroked her enormous black cat with one hand, then gave a demure yawn. She was feigning nonchalance, Dravus was almost certain of that. Whatever was happening in Parance, the enemy was acting exceedingly brazen. It would have been perfectly natural for Hartwain to believe that her life was in danger. Perhaps that was even the case. Dravus had his doubts though; if the fire illustrati had their fame and domains taken from them, then Faye and whoever she worked for were finding specific targets with some purpose in mind. The many cats in Hartwain's manor were eerie in the way they moved around and stared at him, but aside from the black cat, they didn't seem terribly threatening or useful.
Dravus's eyes moved around, taking in each of the illustrati in turn. They'd brought an enormous amount of fame to Parance, along with a variety of useful domains. He had the uneasy feeling that they were going to be bait, willingly or not.
* * *
The Ministry of Legends was one of a number of tall buildings near the river. They had opted to walk rather than attempt to fit five people into a small coach, though Jacques had gone on ahead of them. The four illustrati were armed and armored as though a war were coming, save for Wenaru, who had on only his everyday clothing and green apron.
"You didn't ask about the artifacts," said Dravus as they walked.
"If there are artifacts," said Nemm.
"No need to concern the minister with such things," said Lexari. "If he was willing to share such information in front of Hartwain, he likely would have done so of his own volition. If the Iron Kingdom is behind whatever is happening, better for them to have to put in some effort to find out what it is we know." He sucked at his teeth. "Perhaps speaking with Hartwain on the matter was unwise, but she's been a steadfast friend in the past."
"Steadfastly devoted to herself," muttered Wenaru.
"I doubt that she would have called you a monster if she had been appraised of what had happened in Meriwall," said Lexari. "She didn't know it was a sore spot that had been laid open. When she said it, she was only trying to make light. If she had actually thought you a monster, she wouldn't have given us rooms for the night."
The crowds were out in force. As had been the case the day before, many people stared, but no one approached them. The air smelled slightly acrid, even with a light breeze blowing through the city. There was an ever-present sound around them, a cacophonous mixture of horses, industry, and people. The river that ran through the heart of the city was barely a whisper in comparison. Genthric had certainly been noisy, but it was a noise of the sea and the gulls that perched on every dockside building. Parance had its noise shaped by the tall buildings, lending a faint echo to every sound.
Dravus tried his best not to be continually amazed by the city, but he was afraid he was doing a poor job of it. The stories talked about the Iron Kingdom as having muddy roads that its citizens trudged through. Every street that Dravus had stepped through was paved with thick, orderly flagstones. Where Genthric had runnels that lined its busier streets, carrying water and filth in equal measure, in Parance there were small grates set into the sides of the streets. It wasn't clear where they led to. That was the sort of thing that kept Dravus's mind alight when he looked around him. They were walking towards one of the immense buildings, those that reached thirty stories up into the air. Did people walk up that many stairs every day? The buildings were made from iron, clearly enough, which would have helped with keeping them from collapsing, but it still must have taken the work of hundreds of people.
"We need to establish a few rules for going into the ministry," said Nemm. "Don't accept food or water. Don't touch anyone. Don't handle anything you're not intimately familiar with."
"You're speaking indelicately," said Lexari. "We cannot go casting aspersions on those who we call allies." His eyes flickered to the people around him. Dravus thought about the talk of spies they'd had the day before. The Minister of Legends had left in his coach to meet them there, but obviously the Iron Kingdom would have had someone trail them. They represented a significant amount of military might.
"The Iron Kingdom has lost a number of its illustrati," said Nemm. "They can take offense all they want, so long as we stay safe. It wouldn't even need to be action at the upper levels of the Iron Kingdom, it could be a rogue member intending to secure a position once the succession happens."
"There's no construction," said Wenaru. He was looking around the city as they walked, with more of an analytical eye than Dravus had. "The tallest of these
buildings are new; a hundred yards was as high as they went the last time we were here, spires and decorations aside. Quill lived in the tallest of them. Now they've managed more than that, quite a few times. All within the years since we were last here. Yet there's no construction. We should expect to see a few buildings in a half-finished state even now, trying to surpass their brethren or continuing the city's quest to pack as much flesh in as few square miles as possible."
"You find this suspicious," said Nemm. "Or at least germane to the conversation?"
"It's troubling," said Wenaru. "It means that something has changed within the Iron Kingdom." He pointed up towards one of the buildings next to the river. "If you see there, that one was completed only recently. The outer skin is unembellished for the final ten floors in a way that the others are not."
"Why rush it?" asked Dravus.
