A_Shadow_in_the_Ember_Amazon

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.

  “Let her in, please,” I said. “She would only come here if she had to.”

  “As if I have a choice.” He threw the lock and opened the door.

  Princess Ezmeria stood at the top of the narrow stairwell, her light brown hair swept back in a bun at the nape of her neck. Even though it was sweltering in the tower and most likely no better outside, she wore a black, pinstriped short waistcoat over an ivory and cream gown made of the same lightweight cotton. Ezra always seemed immune to the heat and humidity.

  “Thank you.” She smiled as she nodded at an exasperated Sir Holland. Her features were similar to Tavius’s, but her brown eyes held a keen sharpness, and her jaw had a stubborn hardness that Tavius lacked. “It is good to see you, Sir Holland.”

  Sir Holland pinned her with a look of utter impassivity. “It is good to see you, Your Grace.”

  “What do you need?” I asked as I took the iron blade from Sir Holland, sheathing it.

  “Many things,” she replied. “One of those chocolate scones Orlano makes when he’s in a good mood would be lovely. Along with cooled tea. A good book that isn’t misery fiction, which begs the question—why do the curators of the city Atheneum think any of us wants to read things that only depress us?” she asked, rocking back on her heeled slippers as Sir Holland rubbed at his brow. “I’m also in need of an end to this drought—oh, and peace among the kingdoms.” Ezra smiled widely as she slid an amused glance at Sir Holland. “But right now, the Ladies of Mercy and I are in need of your assistance, Sera.”

  Sir Holland lowered his hand, frowning as he looked at me. “What would the Ladies at the orphanage need from you?”

  “Her ability to borrow excess food from the kitchens without anyone noticing,” Ezra answered smoothly. “With the influx of recently parentless children, their cupboards are rather bare.”

  I stiffened just a fraction. Suspicion clouded Sir Holland’s features. My ability to do just as Ezra claimed had come in handy quite frequently. I often took whatever leftover food I could scrounge from the kitchens to the Cliffs of Sorrow, where the old fortress had been converted into the largest orphanage in Carsodonia. Still, even as big as it was, the orphanage hemorrhaged with those orphaned by death or abandoned by parents who could not or would no longer care for them. But Ezra had never once come to me for that. I turned to him. “I will see you tomorrow morning?”

  His eyes had narrowed, but he nodded. I didn’t linger to give him time to start asking questions.

  “Have a good day, Sir Holland,” Ezra said as she stepped aside, allowing me to exit the tower.

  Dust danced in the streaks of sunlight seeping through the arrow slits in the walls of the tower as we made our way down to the third floor, where my bedchambers were located among the row of empty chambers. We didn’t speak until we stepped into the narrow hall. Ezra turned to me, keeping her voice low, even though it was unlikely that anyone was around to overhear us. “You should probably change your clothing.” Her gaze flickered over the loose tunic I wore. “Something a little more…suitable for where we must travel.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Exactly what am I assisting you with?”

  “Well…” Ezra dipped her chin toward mine, standing close but not close enough to touch me. I pretended not to notice how she made sure her skin didn’t come into contact with mine. “I received a letter from Lady Sunders regarding a child—a young girl named Ellie—that just came under her guardianship, courtesy of one of the Mistresses of the Jade.”

  I frowned in surprise. “What was a young girl doing with the Mistresses?” The only reason Jade had even been willing to discuss the things involved in the act of seduction with me was because she believed I was far older than sixteen. Even then, with the veil obscuring my features, I saw that she had been suspicious, even though others were married at that age. “That is not like them—”

  “It’s not. One of the women who works for them found the poor girl in an alley. She had a blackened eye among numerous other injuries, as well as being undernourished. Ellie’s healing,” Ezra quickly added. “Lady Sunders says that the child’s mother died many years ago, and her father had lost his source of income. She believes the child’s father was once a laborer at one of the farms that fell to the Rot.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I murmured because it felt like I needed to say something, even though there was nothing to be said.

  “I wouldn’t feel too sorry for the father. It appears that he enjoyed spending his money on liquor more than food, long before he lost his job as a harvester.” Ezra’s lips tightened. “Lady Sunders got the impression that the mother’s death may not have been a natural one, but the kind aided by the father’s heavy fists.”

  “Lovely,” I muttered.

  “It gets worse,” she said, and I wasn’t sure how. “At some point, the father entered the business of selling intimate moments—”

  “The sex trade?” I clarified for her.

  “Yes, that is one way of saying it when the person is actually willing to trade time with their intimate parts for coin, protection, shelter…or whatever. But he was the type to make others willing,” she corrected. And, yes, she was right. It did get worse. “Which is also why the Mistresses of the Jade are very displeased with this man. As you know, they are not fans of those types of peddlers.”

  No, the courtesans were not fans of anyone being forced into the trade they’d entered into willingly.

  “The girl who was given over to Lady Sunders has a younger brother, who is still with the father. The boy is in a very precarious situation, being forced to commit all manner of thievery to keep his father’s cups full. She fears he’s being made to agree to other unspeakable things in exchange for food and shelter—as was the daughter.”

  I inhaled sharply, disturbed but sadly not surprised. Both Ezra and I had seen this before. Hardship could exploit the worst in people as they struggled to survive, forcing them to do things they’d never consider. But then there were those who always had that darkness in them, the ones who were predators long before they faced adversity.

  “Lady Sunders inquired to see if my friend who has a certain set of talents,” she said, glancing pointedly at where the blade was sheathed, “would be able to assist in extracting the child.”

  In other words, the kind of skills that Sir Holland had spent years honing for a completely different reason. “And why would that require me to wear something more enticing?”

  “The father? His name is Nor. Lady Sunders believes it’s short for Norbert.”

  “Norbert?” I repeated, blinking. “Okay.”

  “Anyway, Nor does his business out of Croft’s Cross,” she explained. Croft’s Cross was one of the districts that the Nye River separated from the Garden District. Near the water, that quarter of Carsodonia was full of homes stacked upon one another with little space between them. The warehouses, pubs, gambling dens, and other establishments nowhere near as resplendent as those found in the Garden. Most who called Croft’s Cross home were good people just trying to live. However, there were also people like Nor, who could infect Croft’s Cross as easily as the Rot did to the land.

  “He’s been keeping his son close since he can’t get his hands on his daughter,” she went on. “The only way to get into that building is if he thinks you’re looking for a certain type of employment.”

  “Great,” I muttered.

  “I would do it myself, but—”

  “No. No, you will not,” I said. Ezra had a brilliant mind, but she had no knowledge of how to defend herself. Not only that, she was an actual Princess, even if she was often involved in things one didn’t typically find a Princess engaged in. “Give me a few moments.”

  Ezra nodded, and I turned, starting for my bedchamber. “Oh, and do wear something you aren’t worried about getting…bloody.”

  I stopped, looking over my shoulder. “There is no reason for me to get blood on any of my clothing. I’m going in to get a child. That i
s all.”

  She smiled faintly as her brows rose. “Sure. That is all that will happen.”

  Chapter 8

  The plain, black carriage bounced along the uneven cobblestones. That’s how I knew we’d entered Croft’s Cross.

  Sitting across from me, Ezra frowned over her shoulder at the driver’s seat where Lady Marisol Faber sat, cloaked and unrecognizable. I imagined she must be suffocating in the godsforsaken heat.

  Waving a hand in front of my face, I knew I was. I wanted to unhook the lightweight, hooded cape and throw it aside. Tendrils of hair had plastered themselves to the back of my neck.

  I had no idea how long Marisol had been assisting Ezra in her many endeavors to aid those most endangered in Carsodonia. They had been friends since Ezra’s father married my mother, and she came to live here. But I hadn’t become involved in what they were doing until three years ago. I’d only discovered what Ezra was doing when I saw her at the old fortress while leaving behind a bushel of potatoes Orlano had left out for me to do with as I pleased. When we spotted one another, we pretended as if we had no idea who the other was. Later that night, I’d waited for Ezra to return from her walk in the gardens. It was then that I learned why she spent so much time beyond Wayfair grounds.

  I looked over at my stepsister, studying her. There wasn’t even a sheen of sweat on her features. Unreal.

  “How are you not hot?” I asked.

  She pulled her attention from the window. “I think it’s comfortable,” she said, her brows pinching as her gaze dropped. “Your gown is…well, it should do the job.”

  I didn’t need to look down to know that she was staring at the delicate, white lace of the low and very, very tight bodice of the sage-colored gown. If my chest managed to remain in my gown throughout this adventure, it would be no small miracle. “I think this used to belong to Lady Kala.” Which also explained why my boots were clearly visible since the hem only reached my calves. “There weren’t many options.”

  “Ah, yes. I suppose there aren’t.” The skin puckered between her brows as she looked back out the window. A moment passed. “Do you need gowns?” she asked, looking back at me. “I have some that would surely be of more comfort to wear.”

  I stiffened, feeling my cheeks start to burn. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

  “Are you sure?” She leaned forward. “My gowns will not put you at risk of bursting the seams across the chest.”

  “I have other gowns—nicer ones than this,” I told her, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “This was the only one I thought would be enticing.”

  Ezra sat back. “I think the enticing part is the limited amount of time you have before your breasts break free.”

  I snorted.

  Her smile was brief. The look that settled on her face made me more uncomfortable than her offer of the gowns. It wasn’t one of pity but of sadness, and she looked as if she were about to speak but couldn’t find the words. Ezra always had words, a plethora of them, but she never spoke of the curse. The question rose to the tip of my tongue. I wanted to ask if she still believed that the Primal of Death would come for me, but I stopped myself. Her answer wouldn’t soothe me when I knew the truth.

  Instead, I asked, “How did you sneak away without any Royal Guards following?”

  One side of her lips curled up. “I have my ways.”

  I started to ask about said ways when the carriage slowed. I glanced out the window. A mass of people hurried along the crowded street, heading toward the small shops and into dark, winding alleys under rickety metal staircases attached to narrow buildings that rose several stories. Many of them, faded to a dull yellow and drab brown, were packed side by side. Somehow, the proprietors managed to cram twenty or more rooms into those buildings without electricity, and in some instances, plumbing. It was irresponsible to allow anyone to live in these so-called apartments, but the people and their families would be on the streets without them. However, it wasn’t like there were no other options.

  “The land that has been ruined by the Rot… It can still be built upon, can it not?” I asked. Ezra nodded. “I don’t understand why new homes aren’t being built on those farms. Small ones, but at least places where you don’t have to risk your life climbing stairs that could give out from under you at any moment.”

  “But what of the farmers once the Rot is dealt with?” she countered.

  Well, I had asked my answer, hadn’t I? If she believed the Rot would vanish, then she must be holding onto some kernel of hope that I would be able to fulfill my duty. “What if it doesn’t?” I asked.

  Ezra knew what I meant. “Mari’s father is determined to discover the cause. You and I both know he won’t, but his mind is brilliant. If anyone can figure out a natural way to end this, it will be Lord Faber.”

  I hoped she was right, and not just to alleviate some of the guilt I felt. “Could the farmers not become proprietors then? Gaining their income from leasing the homes?”

  “They could.” Her nose wrinkled. “But there is the question of where the materials to build the homes would come from.”

  And there was the flaw in my idea. The rock deposits in the Elysium Peaks used to build much of the buildings were mined and paid for by business owners or landowners. The stone had a cost, as did the labor it took to build the homes. The Crown should pay for it, but the Crown’s coffers were not as abundant as they once were since they paid for more and more food and goods from other kingdoms.

  And yet, there was somehow still enough for a new gown for the Queen.

  “The home Nor is in has red shutters over the windows. I believe it’s to our right,” Ezra said as the carriage jerked to a halt. “He is on the first floor—the entirety of the first floor. His offices are right inside.”

  I nodded, reaching for the carriage door. “Do you know the son’s name?”

  Ezra looked down as she pulled the rolled letter from the sleeve of her coat, unfurling it. “His name is…Nate.” Her gaze met mine. “Far less confusing than Nor.”

  “Agreed.” I lifted the hood of the cape. While it was unlikely there would be much involved in this event, the paleness of my hair was noticeable, and I would rather not take the chance of someone recognizing me in case things, well, ended poorly. “Stay here.”

  “Of course.” She paused. “Be careful.”

  “Always,” I murmured, cracking the door open wide enough for the noise of the street to seep in and for me to slip through. Refusing to think about whatever liquid I stepped in since it couldn’t be what fell from the sky, I walked to the front of the carriage. “Marisol?” I whispered. The hooded head turned in my direction. The Lady knew exactly who I was, but like Ezra, her treatment of me whenever I saw her was the same as it had been before the curse. We weren’t close by any means, but she wasn’t cruel, and she didn’t behave as if she were afraid of me. “Make sure she stays in this carriage.”

  She glanced up at the already-full streets. “I will drive around to prevent her from doing something idiotic.”

  “Perfect.” I turned, stepping onto the cracked stone sidewalk and into the throng of people.

  Knowing better than to breathe too deeply or to linger in any one spot, I waited only until the carriage pulled away from the curb before heading right, giving the pigeons having a party in the filth a wide berth. I moved among men and women returning from work or heading to it. Some wore capes like mine to shield their faces from the sun or to keep from being recognized. They were the ones I kept an eye on. Others stumbled out of pubs, their blouses and tunics stained with beer and who knew what else. Vendors shouted from nearly every building, selling questionable oysters, flat muffins, and cherries on sticks. I kept my arms to my sides, ignoring the lingering stares and the lewd, drunken comments from males leaning against the front of buildings.

  Croft’s Cross was one of the only places in all of Carsodonia where neither the Sun Temple—sometimes referred to as the Temple of Life—nor the Shadow Temple was visible
. It was almost as if the district were outside their reach of authority, where life and death couldn’t be managed by any Primal.

  “The Crown doesn’t care that we’re losing our jobs, homes, families, and futures!” A woman’s voice rose above the noise of the crowd. “They go to sleep with full bellies while we starve! We’re dying, and they’re doing nothing about the Rot!”

  I searched out the source of the words. Up ahead, where Ezra’s carriage had disappeared into the sea of similar transports and wagons, the road split into a vee. In the center was one of the smaller places of worship in Carsodonia. The Temple of Keella, the Goddess of Rebirth, was a squat, round structure of white limestone and granite. Children raced barefoot around the colonnade, darting in and out of columns. I moved closer, able to see that the woman was dressed in white, standing in the middle of the wide Temple steps as she shouted to the small cluster of people gathered before her.

  “The age of the Golden King has passed, and the end of rebirth is near,” she yelled. Nods and shouts of agreement answered her. “We know that. The Crown knows that!” She scanned the crowd and lifted her head, looking past them—looking beyond the street to me. I stopped, my breath hitching in my throat. “No Mierel sits upon that throne,” she said. Chills broke out over my skin as I stared at the dark-haired woman. “Not now. Not ever again.”

  Someone bumped into my shoulder, startling me. I tore my gaze from the woman as the person muttered under their breath. Blinking, I forced myself to start walking. I looked over at the Temple. The woman was focused on the group in front of her, speaking now about the gods and how they would not continue to ignore the people’s struggle. There was no way she could’ve even seen me on the sidewalk or knew who I was—not even without the hood.

  Still, unease tiptoed through me, and it was a struggle to push thoughts of the woman aside as I passed an alley where several women hung clothing on lines strung between two buildings. A block down from the Temple of Keella, I spotted a tall building that’d once been a shade of ivory but was now stained to a dusty gray color. Red shutters covered the windows. Then, I was able to set aside the woman on the Temple steps.