by Kacey Ezell
“How did you hear from him?” Lucia asked, torn between amusement at this character in her father’s employ, and a frantic need to hear the answer to her question.
“Why, them little ones, o’course,” he said, pointing out the window at a gaggle of children playing in the courtyard. Some of them Lucia recognized as the children of the Delsarte household staff on the estate. Some of them looked to be children from the various farms and vineyards nearby, and a few from the Eventide’s own orphanage. One or two looked ragged, thin, and dirty, and Lucia suspected they’d been taken in after running from the chaos in the city. She didn’t blame them, poor lambs. She’d essentially done the same herself.
“Those kiddos’ll take a message for ya, if ye’ve a need,” Timothe went on. “Jes hand ‘em a note, and they’ll get in through some way they know to the Eventide compound. Then the Eventides’ll contact the duke. Leastways that’s how it worked for me.”
Lucia gave the man a smile and took her leave. She returned to the table she shared with de Graaf and several of his officers and relayed what the colorful Timothe had told her.
“I really do believe it’s in our best interest to get a message to Amelia,” she added. “We’re safe enough here, and Amelia can get word to my father. In the meantime, perhaps we can come up with a plan to get into the city.”
“If the children can get in, can we not get in the same way?” de Graaf asked in a reasonable tone. Lucia frowned for a moment, considering the idea.
“Well…” she said, “leaving aside the obvious issue of size, I don’t see why we couldn’t, but I’m fairly well known, and it sounds as if Immortals aren’t safe at all on the streets.”
“Send the message,” Marit suggested. “Get the details of what’s going on inside and see if your clever Eventide cousin has any ideas. It does us no good to speculate without more information than we have.”
Lucia nodded, and de Graaf smiled at his medic. “Marit, you are, as always, a treasure trove of reason,” the captain said.
“Fine, then,” Lucia said, happy to have at least part of a plan. “Let’s go in, and I’ll write to my cousin. In the meantime, it appears Cook has made one of her delicious stews. May I suggest whoever feels so inclined have some? We’ll rest here for tonight and tomorrow, and hopefully by tomorrow night we’ll know what to do next.”
De Graaf laughed and reached for her hand as the small group broke up and began seeking refreshment. “Listen to you,” he said lightly as they walked across the courtyard to the family quarters. “You’re a veritable Caesar! Born to command!”
Lucia felt a blush heating her cheeks, but she refused to be cowed by his teasing. “In a sense, I was,” she answered instead. “My father is a duke, after all. I grew up knowing someday I’d be responsible for the running of an estate very much like this one. ‘Tisn’t an easy thing, you know. Hundreds of people rely on this estate alone for their basic living. A poor chatelaine can mean hunger and misery for many, many people.”
De Graaf squeezed her fingers. “No one could accuse you of being that, my dear,” he said. “I was only playing with you. You take charge very well. I’ll ask, however, that you give me some warning before you begin to order my crew about next time.”
Lucia felt instant remorse rock through her. “Oh! Oh, no, I never meant…I am sorry if I spoke out of turn…”
Another laugh and another squeeze of her hand as he pulled her into the arched doorway that led to their destination. “I know, my dear, and I took no offense. This is your home, after all, and you do have authority here. I merely like to tease.”
Lucia eyed him sidelong as she began to realize he’d now gotten her twice over with his little jokes.
“I see,” she said softly. “Well enough. Though you ought to remember, good sir, that revenge is a dish best served cold.” She looked boldly up at him, her eyes glinting in the moonlight that spilled in through the doorway, gave him a smile, and then turned to walk back down the corridor toward their rooms. De Graaf’s delighted laughter followed her.
* * *
My dearest cousin,
I was so pleased to hear your recent journey has been profitable. The plague continues to ravage our city, with the result that the gates have been closed to all incoming traffic. Almost no one moves on the streets at night, save our order, who are often called into every quarter of the city to provide aid to those afflicted. I only hope we’re able to bring some comfort to those who’re in need of so much. I know you know the joy of serving others, so you know whereof I write. I pray this letter reaches you and finds you well, and when the time comes, you know the Order is ready to receive you with open arms.
With love,
Amelia
PS. I often pass our favorite teahouse and think of the hours we’ve spent there. Though at the time they seemed frivolous, I look back now and smile. I have a little something I purchased there not too long ago. Perhaps I shall enjoy it tonight in the Order’s kitchen after moonrise when my work is done. Mother Claude enjoyed the tea.
Lucia refolded the note with a smile. Clever Amelia. She’d always been one to take great precautions, but though her language was vague, it sent Lucia a crystal clear message. She glanced upward at the afternoon sun slanting through her window. The sun had almost set. Time to wake de Graaf and tell him their plan.
* * *
“You see, it’s all here in her letter,” Lucia said shortly thereafter as she showed the folded parchment scrap to the captain. “The order is ready to receive you with open arms. She’s telling us to come to the Eventide compound. She’s even told us the time, after moonrise.”
De Graaf raised his eyebrows. “Impressive,” he said, respect in his tone. “And how will we get to the Eventide compound?”
“As you suggested,” Lucia replied with a smile. “The same way the messages do. I spoke with little Elise, the messenger who delivered this letter. She said the way isn’t perhaps the most pleasant route, but we can all fit in the old aqueduct tunnels. They haven’t held water for a century or so, since the main elevated arches collapsed several miles to the south, but the tunnels through the walls are still intact. Elise said one of the grates has come loose and can be removed. She’ll take us through tonight.”
“And how will we get into the Eventide compound?” de Graaf repeated, feeling Lucia’s plans out.
“That’s the best part. The aqueduct tunnels lead to an abandoned cistern beneath the Eventides’ main kitchens,” she said, her smile growing ever more brilliant. “We’ll simply join with the nursing staff and head home with Amelia under cover of Order robes.”
“You and your cousin are dangerous,” de Graaf said, laughter threading through his voice. “I suspect if you wanted, the two of you could plot to take over the world.”
“Who says we haven’t?” Lucia asked archly. “But we only have a few hours until moonrise. So, my dear Captain…perhaps you might like to feed?”
* * *
The night was cool, the oppressive heat of summer having leached away with the sun’s descent. Lucia, de Graaf, Marit, and a few others followed the wisp-like Elise as she crouched low in the broken ruins of the ancient aqueduct that had once fed clean water to the city. It had truly been a marvel of engineering, Lucia thought regretfully. After the fall of the Roman Empire, the aqueduct had fallen into disrepair, and finally crumbled under its own decaying weight. The graceful stone arches that had once carried clean, crystalline water from the mountains hundreds of miles to the fountains of the city now lay in rubble, and the fountains themselves had been broken down, choked with weeds, or plundered for their exquisite sculptural detail. Now the city’s residents made do with water from nearby streams and rivers. It did the job, but the ruined fountains always made Lucia wistful.
“Through ‘ere,” little Elise whispered harshly, waving her hand for them to come ahead as she crouched next to a roughly round-shaped opening. “Quick-like, if you please, m’lady.”
Lucia shook
her head to dismiss her woolgathering and crept forward, ducking her head to follow Elise’s slim form into the darkness. For several long, uncomfortable moments, it was hopelessly dark. She reached out with tentative fingers and brushed the back of Elise’s tunic.
“Just this way, m’lady,” the young girl’s voice floated back through the heavy darkness. “Not much farther.”
Lucia nodded and then felt foolish for doing so. She could feel her heartbeat accelerating, her breath coming harsher as the darkness pressed in. Something brushed against her fingers, and she jumped, letting out a squeak of terror.
“It’s only I, my dear,” de Graaf whispered, lacing his fingers between hers. “I’m here with you. Let’s go on.”
“All right,” Lucia whispered back, her voice shaky. She could feel her own pulse thundering in her throat, and the ragged rasp of her breath, but she forced herself to take one step, and then another, down through the impossibly dark tunnel.
An eternity or a moment later (she was never sure which), the darkness ahead began to lighten to a gray. The transition was so subtle that none of them could have said when it began, but eventually they came to a place where a rockfall had blocked the ancient tunnel, and light filtered down from above.
“We climb up here,” Elise said softly. “Follow exactly in my steps. Some of these rocks are loose, and you wouldn’t want to fall into the old cistern.”
“How am I supposed to see your steps?” Lucia asked, a note of panic threading into her voice. Though the little bit of light they had now was infinitely preferable to the stygian darkness of the tunnel, it was still dim enough that the girl was mainly an outline.
“Stay close,” Elise said, pitiless. She began to scramble up the rockfall. Lucia gave a bit of a whimper, but de Graaf squeezed her hand briefly before letting go so she could climb. That tiny show of support gave her courage, and she started up after their slight guide.
The climb wasn’t extraordinarily long, but there were a few places where Elise effortlessly made leaps from one handhold to another. Lucia forced herself to follow, though she could feel her fear like a living thing clawing at her throat. Eventually, however, they reached the bricked over vault that was the ceiling of the cistern. Elise shoved at a metal doorway, and it swung up and over with a clanging sound.
“Don’ worry,” Elise assured them with a grin. “We’re in the Eventides’ cellar. No one heard that, an’ if they did, they don’ care! Up we go!” And with that, she pulled herself nimbly up through the hatch. Lucia followed, though her arms shook with fatigue, and found herself, as promised, in one of the storage cellars where the Eventide Brothers and Sisters stored their wine and other goods.
“Lucia?” a voice said softly, and someone unshielded a lantern. Lucia held up a hand and squinted in the suddenly blinding light, and found herself with an armful of her cousin’s fierce embrace.
“Oh, Lucia!” Amelia cried as she hugged Lucia tightly to her. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
Lucia hugged her cousin back, clinging tightly to her slight, muscular frame. “See,” she whispered for Amelia’s ears alone. “He didn’t spirit me away to some foreign land or mistreat me at all. He’s a good man, Amelia.”
Amelia backed up enough to look in her cousin’s eyes. “You love him,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
Lucia bit her lower lip and cast a glance at the trap door, where de Graaf was currently pulling himself up into the cellar. “I do,” she whispered, soft as breath.
Amelia closed her eyes briefly, but when she opened them, her smile was wide. “Then I’m happy for you, dear one. And I’ll pray he’s the love you so richly deserve.”
Lucia would have said more, but Amelia let her go in order to offer her hand to de Graaf. “Captain,” she said softly to him.
De Graaf hesitated slightly, a question in his expression as he gingerly took her hand. Amelia smiled and nodded as if to tell him she approved, but a darkness in her eyes held a warning. She’d delivered it once before. She didn’t need to say the words again.
“Sister,” de Graaf said softly. “May I take this to mean we understand one another?”
“You may,” Amelia said. “Welcome to the family. Now, if you and the rest of your party will follow me, I’ve robes just over here. You’ll want to wash your hands and faces as well. The old tunnels are distinctively dirty, I’m afraid, and anyone looking at you could see you’ve been crawling around under the ground.”
“Mother and Father won’t care, surely?” Lucia asked, curious. Not that she minded the prospect of getting clean. Quite the opposite, really. It was just that Amelia seemed to be acting with a greater sense of urgency than Lucia would have expected. They were just going home, after all.
“They wouldn’t, no, but the rest of the Council might. They’re in session.”
“The Council?” de Graaf asked, his voice sharpening. “What’s happened?”
“So much. I’ll tell you along the way, but I believe we have a chance to save many lives this night, Captain. Your own among them. So, if you please, make haste!”
* * * * *
Chapter 22
The Council chambers were full to capacity by the time Remy walked in and took his seat, sitting on the opposite side of the room from Delsarte. Duke Delsarte’s face appeared drawn and tight with the stress of the last couple of weeks. Madame Delsarte accompanied him, her eyes ringed dark with fatigue. Delsarte didn’t look at Remy; instead, he chatted quietly with the councilors around him, but he certainly lacked his usual sense of verve. Remy smiled. Delsarte was wearing down. The guards could have allowed Lucia through the blockade but forcing their beloved daughter out of town had clearly unsettled Duke Delsarte and his wife. It was a clever move on Elidon’s part to force the city’s hand, to pressure Delsarte to a breaking point. A sense of smug satisfaction settled in the depths of his soul. Delsarte could stand to feel what loss was truly like.
* * *
The Speaker called the meeting to order and ran through the formalities of opening the session with a tired demeanor to her actions. Delsarte spotted a city magistrate sitting off to the side with an assortment of constables and guards. She was clearly displeased to be summoned to Council by her clipped tone and tense expression.
“Good evening. Let me get right to the point. We have a crisis on our hands with this current course of action, spearheaded by Duke Elidon. The Eventides are running short of critical medicines and supplies, and the rebuilding of the dockyards and warehouses can’t progress if the supplies can’t arrive. How do you propose the city continue to be a beacon of business when half our port is being blockaded?”
The gathered councilors and audience murmured, some in approval, some dissenting with the moderator’s summary of the situation. Delsarte nodded, keeping a calm profile, and not taking his eyes off Elidon.
Remy rose and said, “We’ve seen a marked decrease in plague and sickness. The oceangoing ships will compensate shortly. Give it time.” He gestured pleadingly at the Council. “We’ll thrive without the NightShips.”
A Councilwoman from the west of the city rose to speak. “All the other ports allow NightShips. We’re foolish to think we can manage without. Elidon, this is an absurd course of action. We should recall the blockade immediately. We can find better solutions to the Immortals’ needs, the Source trade, and our business interests.”
“Will you say the same when it’s your family, your husband, your daughter, your son, who succumbs to the Immortals? Or is your bankroll worth more than your family?” Remy retorted. The debate was public now, and personal.
“Like you and Emmeline? And Matthias?” Delsarte asked, almost smug as Remy ranted on. “You weren’t so concerned with their souls when it came to your accounts. Your concern seems less than genuine now, too.”
Delsarte almost smirked, the faint hint of a smile curling at the edge of his lips, as he called Remy Elidon’s actions to scrutiny. Delsarte’s business rival turned tomato-red, and bit
his lip, rage simmering. Delsarte half expected to see steam curl from Elidon’s ears.
“You sent Lucia off—” Remy started.
“Sent me where, Lord Elidon?” Lucia Delsarte strode into the room in the company of—no…rather boldly on the arm of—Captain de Graaf, followed by Matthias, supported by one of the Sisters, and a pair of constables.
The council chambers erupted in chaos, shouting and yelling as the moderator lost all semblance of order in the hall. She brought the gavel down several times with a deafening strike before order was restored. Councilors returned to their seats, whispering frantically amongst themselves.
“Silence, now! The next person to speak out of turn will be removed from the room. Now. Lady Delsarte, speak.”
“Matthias Elidon will have his say first, Moderator. I have nothing urgent to declare. Sir Elidon, however, has plenty you may find very interesting. Lord Elidon, you may want to remain seated,” Lucia called out when Remy rose from his chair, his expression seething. Lucia shook her head, and he took his seat and set his jaw.
The Council moderator summoned the magistrate forth and had a brief, quiet talk. The magistrate nodded solemnly and took his place at the head of the chamber.
“I’ve been summoned to participate in a judicial capacity. Mr. Elidon, come forward.” The magistrate gestured.
Matthias stepped forward to the speaker’s podium.
“I’ve done terrible things, motivated by a terrible man. The fire was no accident. My father, the duke of Elidon, ordered it done as part of the terms of my return home. He set the pirates on NightShips, on de Graaf’s ship, to steal their cargo and frighten them off course. He knows the shipping routes and had me dispatch the plans to thieves with cash in hand for bringing down NightShips. I did as I was told because I’m a weak man, a fool. I believed his promises. I wanted only to come home.”
