Kyza. Now what would she do?
Unwilling to await a fate she was sure would not be in her favor, she needed a way out. Leaning against the wall nearest the door, she slipped her hand along the leather folds of her boot. She smiled when she discovered the knife was still where she’d hidden it.
When she picked the lock, she didn’t know what she’d find on the other side of the door. Where would they have taken her?
Sam slipped the cloak around her shoulders. If nothing else, wearing it gave her a certain comfort. She worked the tip of the knife into the lock on the door, levering it from side to side, feeling for the tumblers. It would be easier with a proper pick set, but then she hadn’t thought about hiding one in her boots to go along with the knife.
It didn’t work.
She sank to the ground and stared around the room. Was there anything in here she could use to help her get free?
The bed was the only item in here. It was made of stout wood, and a thin mattress was set on it, but that was it. No other furniture. Sam figured herself fortunate to have even that much.
Could she carve off a section of wood and use it?
She glanced at the door. There wasn’t anything else for her to do other than wait. But she wasn’t about to simply sit here and do nothing. That just wasn’t her.
Kneeling in front of the bed, she started working on the post, gliding the knife along the surface as she tried to pry a section free. If she could carve a few narrow slivers, maybe she could use them like a pick set.
Sam tried not to think about the fact that she was getting her hopes up again. What choice did she have if she wanted to get Tray out of prison?
As she managed to get sections free, she carved them into a set that would be similar to her other lock pick. These might not be strong enough, but she had to try, and right now, she had nothing but time.
If she failed…
Sam didn’t want to think about what would happen if she failed. She’d be stuck here, but worse, Tray would be stuck in prison, likely awaiting execution with no one willing to do anything to help him.
Voices drifted from outside the door.
“Why is she here, Larenth?”
“She’s after easar paper. She’s the one who stole it from—”
Someone made a hushing sound. “This isn’t the place to discuss that so openly.” It sounded like the man who’d smelled of perfume.
“No? There are no others here.”
“We still need to be careful. They are responsible for what happened to the princess.”
“Word of that cannot get out. We don’t need to raise fear of attack.”
“Then what do you intend?”
“We have someone we can blame. A thief and a sympathizer. It would believable enough.” There was a pause. “She has a brother. He was captured watching the house the night she broke in. He’s probably with them too.”
“Can there really be so many in the city after all this time?”
“Where else would they have gone?”
“We need to keep this quiet. If the Anders know what has been done to the Thelns…”
The Anders. That meant the ruling family.
“That’s why we must place the blame on them.”
The voices faded, disappearing.
Sam picked the lock of her cell and poked her head out the door. She did it cautiously, not certain whether she would draw attention to herself, and saw no one. The hall was empty.
Though it was empty, there was a horrible smell. It was awful; nothing like anything she’d ever encountered before.
Sam wanted only to get away from the stench, but she was confused. Why was she here?
She crept slowly along the bright marble hallway, more wealth in the floor around her than she would ever see, and came upon a door. The stench seemed to come from whatever lay behind the door.
Curiosity made her push the door open.
She almost gagged as she did. On the other side, she found a person lying in a massive bed.
Sam blinked. Even from a distance, she recognized who it was.
The princess.
That was who they had been talking about. The rumored illness was real.
Sam had never seen her before, but there were stories of her beauty. She was sick, as sickly as what Bastan had believed, and lay motionless. Her breathing was slow and steady, and if it was she who the men she’d overheard were talking about, she didn’t have much longer to live.
And then what?
Then they would pin the blame on her and Tray. That was what they had been talking about. They thought she was with the Thelns.
Kyza.
What had she gotten herself into? And what did this have to do with the easar paper? Not just the paper, but the power of the paper. The magic of the paper.
That was the part that Sam didn’t understand.
Sam glanced into the room one more time before pulling the door closed. If she did nothing, they would blame her and Tray for the princess’s illness, but if she could get the princess help… maybe they could get out of this.
Only, how was she ever to find Alec, especially with his shop destroyed? Even if she did find him, would he know enough about the paper to help?
18
The Thelns Attack
The Caster section of the city welcomed her back with the familiar smells and sounds greeting her.
Escaping from the university had been easier than she had expected. The bridge was unguarded, and once she’d thrown herself out a window, she had been able to wind her way around the outside of the building before reaching the bridge leading across the canal so that she didn’t have to try to jump it.
She would return to Alec’s section of the city, but only after she grabbed more of the paper. She needed to gather herself, check in with Bastan to grab more of the easar paper, and warn him that she might have been pinched. There might not be anything that he could do, but she felt she needed to share what she’d learned. Maybe there was something Bastan and his connections could do to help.
Sam was fairly close to the tavern. In Caster, everything was sort of close. She wound her way through the streets, ignoring the glares as she pushed her way through crowds of people, until she saw Bastan’s tavern in the distance.
As she neared, the tavern exploded.
Sam was thrown back by the force of the explosion. Heat burned across her face, and she shielded it with her cloak. Her ears rang and her head throbbed.
Long moments passed before she was able to make sense of what was happening around her. People ran away from her, some screaming as they passed her. The sound was muted.
Sam went the opposite direction, heading toward the explosion. Had the brutes discovered her? Had they followed her back to Bastan’s tavern before?
That one brute had said that he could smell her, whatever that meant. If he could, maybe they had known where she had gone. Maybe they had known about Bastan.
Was Bastan there?
What of the other people who worked for him?
It wasn’t that Bastan worked with bad people. There were plenty he worked with that she cared about, especially Kevin, a cook who had always ensured she had food when she stopped into the tavern. Had anyone been inside when the tavern exploded?
Flames roared from the building, the heat of it nearly pressing her back. She fought against it, hurrying forward, in spite of knowing that she shouldn’t.
Someone caught her arm and she spun, fearing one of the brutes.
“Not that way, Sam.”
It was Bastan. Soot stained his face, and his eyes were wide and wild. Blood soaked his shirt, but Sam couldn’t tell where he’d been hurt. He held the hilt of a sword, the blade almost black, unmindful of the rules of lowborns carrying weapons.
His personal guards, Stepan and Hilam, stood on either side of him, either guarding him or keeping watch. They were enormous—almost as large as the brutes—and she often wondered if they had some special abilities. There were rumo
rs that some of the people coming to Verdholm for safety had power, though they kept it concealed. It wouldn’t surprise her to discover that Bastan collected people with power much the same way he collected paintings.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Looks like we got hit,” Bastan said. He took her by the elbow and guided her away from the street, ducking into an alleyway between a butcher and a candle maker. Both shops looked empty.
“Was it Thelns?” she asked.
Bastan’s grip on her elbow squeezed harder. “What?”
Sam shook her head. It didn’t do any good to hide what she knew from Bastan, not when he could help her understand. “They attacked Marin. I think they were the same ones who attacked me. And… they chased me when I was trying to break into the university.”
“Why were you breaking into the university?”
“Because you told me the palace and the prison were connected by tunnels, and I already knew there was some connection between the university in the palace.”
Bastan breathed out a heavy sigh, shaking his head, and then he nodded to Stepan. The man turned and hurried from the alley, his hand under his long wool cloak.
“Were these Thelns the same ones who attacked you before?”
Sam nodded. She wouldn’t be able to shake the terror she’d felt. Living in Caster, she had often experienced strange people. Many were rumored to have power of their own, though she had never seen it. But the Thelns had been unlike anything she’d ever encountered.
“I should have moved sooner,” Bastan said, frustration seething in his voice. “If someone thinks to move into my territory—”
“I think this is about more than your territory. It’s about the paper.”
“Are you sure?” Bastan asked.
Sam wasn’t sure about anything anymore. “That’s what Marin said.”
“Where is she… You were with her when she was attacked?”
“I was there. She’s the one who told me it’s about the paper.” That, and what she’d learned at the university. She still needed to keep that from Bastan, at least for now.
“The damn paper? We can barely write on it. Why would they care about it?”
She hadn’t gotten the opportunity to get the answers before the brutes got to Marin’s. Sam didn’t think it possible that Marin had gotten away. She might have had a weapon, but how likely was it that she could have fought off two brutes and escaped?
“I don’t know. Marin seemed to know something about it. She doesn’t think you should sell it.” She didn’t want to tell Bastan that the paper might have magical qualities—not yet. If she did, he’d never give her access to it.
“I shouldn’t? What does she want me to do with it?”
“She says each sheet is worth as much as a single gem.” She held her hand out, much like Marin had done for her.
“To who?”
“I don’t know. The highborns, I suppose.” Or the palace, if what the highborn had told her was true.
In the distance, there came another explosion, this one muted. Sam felt it as it thundered through her.
“We need to get moving,” Bastan said. “There’s a place we can go. I can keep us safe there.”
He motioned to Hilam and started off through the alley, emerging on the street on the other side. People ran quickly along the street here, as well, but there wasn’t the same sense of purpose and fear as there was on the other street.
Bastan moved toward the tavern, though it was a street away now. When they were nearing the tavern, he stopped and entered a storefront without any signage.
Hilam locked the door behind them.
The room was empty. A couple of tall, dusty tables were scattered throughout the room, the stools tipped toward them, resting so the back legs were in the air. A wide stone hearth along the back wall looked as if it hadn’t seen any logs for years, but the inside of the hearth was heavily charred. A long counter ran along the opposite wall, a thick layer of dust coating everything.
Another tavern?
“How many places do you own?” she asked Bastan.
He glanced back at her. “Enough to keep my interests safe.”
Bastan stood in front of the hearth and tapped on the stones in what seemed a pattern. As he did, the back of the hearth slid to the side, revealing a dark opening.
Sam looked at it and started laughing. “A hidden entrance? How very Bastan-like of you.”
“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said.
“You should.”
He motioned her through, and she entered an empty room. Sam turned to face Bastan, and he carried a lantern in with him.
“Bastan, I don’t think I have much time.”
“Why do you say that? We got hit, Sam. Those bastards are after you, and if they’re now after me, we need to keep us both safe.”
“If you keep me safe, if you keep me here, then I won’t be able to help Tray.”
“You won’t be able to help him if you’re dead, either. I’m going to sweep through Caster and make sure none of these bastards are here.”
“I don’t know that it’s safe. You haven’t faced them. They’re dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous.”
The way he said it made her believe that he was. For some reason, the idea of something happening to Bastan bothered her. “Don’t risk yourself like this.”
“I’m not going to sit back while Caster is attacked. They already hit Marin?”
Sam nodded slowly. “There’s more, Bastan. A lot more. I think… I think it’s how I can get Tray released.” She told him about what she saw with the princess, and Bastan watched her for a long moment, his face unreadable.
“You found the princess at the university. And you say that these highborns intended for you to take the fall for what happened with her. And they will blame you for being some sort of Theln sympathizer.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“First of all, I can spread the word that you aren’t. Tray too.”
“Will that even do any good? If highborns already have it in their head to blame us, there’s nothing you can do. But maybe—maybe—if I can get to the princess, we can fix this.”
Bastan laughed and glanced behind him again, as if worried someone might be coming through the dark tavern and after him.
“What’s so funny?”
“Only you talking about helping one of the highborn. And the princess, at that. If nothing else, you’ve always been consistent with your hatred for the highborns.”
“That hasn’t changed, but if she dies, they’ll blame Tray for what happened.”
Bastan watched her for a moment. “Even if that were possible, why would you think that you have some way of healing her that they don’t in the university? Why would you believe that you were somehow more capable than all of the physickers?”
Sam shook her head. She couldn’t answer that without betraying the secret of the paper to Bastan, and if he knew that, he wouldn’t let her leave his sight. “Do you have any more of the paper left? Did it all burn up in your tavern?” She hadn’t thought of that, but maybe it was all gone. With what she now knew about how valuable it was, she needed to get the other dozen pages.
“Sam—”
Sam shook her head. “No, Bastan. Do you have any or not?”
Bastan studied her for a moment before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a folded slip of paper and handed it over to her. “I doubt this will do you any good.”
She shrugged and started past him, pushing back out into the dusty tavern.
Bastan grabbed for her shoulder, and she shrugged him off.
“Do you think you can buy your way through this?” Bastan asked.
“Not buy my way, but there might be something that can be done. I just have to find the person who can help me.”
“Don’t get hurt doing this, Sam. I can protect you in Caster, but outside of our section you’ll be on your own.”
/> Sam arched a brow at him. “Why, Bastan. I would almost believe that you were concerned about me.”
“If you knew anything about me, then you’d know I am always concerned about you. When have I ever shown you otherwise?”
She left the tavern, making her way back out into the night. In the distance, she could smell the fires still burning, but there were no more explosions, nothing thundering and disrupting the quiet of the night. For that, Sam was thankful. Could the Thelns have attacked other places she had been? That was the only connection she had… which made it likely that they had attacked Alec’s apothecary, as well.
Kyza!
Was it her fault that his shop had been destroyed?
Now there was even more reason for her to find him.
She raced through the Caster section, and jumped over the canals, eventually reaching his section. She hurried along until she found his shop. At least, the remains of it.
She crawled through the ash and leaned against the neighboring wall. She would wait. Eventually, Alec would return. He would have to. She knew how much this place meant to him. And when he did, she would get his help.
He had figured out the secret to the paper. And the paper was power. Now it would be the key to getting her brother out of prison.
19
Reunion
The noise caught his attention and Alec spun, sending ash into the air.
He’d been looking through the remains of the shop, trying to salvage what he could, when he noticed something in the corner. As he approached, there was movement. Memories of the attack—and the destruction of the shop that followed—sent him staggering back a step where he almost fell over.
He tried spinning to the side, but fell, tripping over his feet and landing on his back. When he looked up—half expecting one of the same large attackers—he instead saw a face he hadn’t thought he’d see again.
Sam stared at him, her mouth pinched in a strange line as if she struggled to make sense of what she saw. She wore the same strange cloak he’d seen when she’d snuck into the apothecary, with its odd ability to practically draw light, concealing her in shadows. Bruises along her cheeks left him wondering what had happened to her, but otherwise, she looked well. She leaned against her staff, though she tried to conceal it.
The Book of Maladies Boxset Page 16
