The Conjurer's Riddle

by Andrea Cremer

  “I appreciate the warning.” Charlotte weighed her options. If they made a run for it, she could easily take a wrong turn and end up cornered somewhere else in the maze. Fighting them off wasn’t out of the question. She had her stiletto hidden in her boot, but she had no idea what arms, if any, the men carried. Pip was sure to have no weapons at all.

  She drew Pip another few steps toward the path.

  “In some circles it would be considered rude to walk away from an offer of assistance,” the first man called to her. “Some might take offense.”

  Charlotte heard them coming toward her, their steps quickening.

  “Pip, stay behind me.” Charlotte whirled around, sliding her stiletto out of her boot.

  The trio of assailants balked when she faced them, the steel of her thin blade catching the low light.

  One of them guffawed and spat a stream of tobacco juice. He gripped a club that he bounced against the side of his leg. “You fancy yourself a match for us?”

  “If you keep coming toward us, you’ll find out,” Charlotte answered.

  “Hey, Roger,” the first man said to the one who’d goaded her. “If she beats you, you’ll be buying my next pint.”

  “I’ll be buying my own pints with her coin,” Roger replied. “And you’ll see none of it.”

  “The both of yous shut up.” The third man drew a wide-bladed dagger. “You’re givin’ me a terrible thirst.”

  Without warning, he rushed Charlotte. She ducked and spun beneath the swipe of his blade. Flicking her stiletto out, she sliced through his shirt and into his side.

  The man bellowed, wheeling around as Charlotte darted away. “You’ll be sorry for that.”

  “I’m not sorry yet,” Charlotte answered. She needed to hold their attention so they’d forget Pip.

  “I think she stuck you good, Jim,” Roger said, laughing. “You’re bleeding same as the piglet you just squealed like.”

  Roger sauntered toward her, lazily swinging his club. “What do you think, Billy? She quick enough to stick me too?”

  “You are faster than Jim, mate,” Billy answered. He had yet to draw a weapon.

  Then Charlotte saw the glint of brass along his knuckles. He was moving too, casually making an arc toward Charlotte opposite Roger. “But the young lady’s a nimble thing, isn’t she?”

  “Slipperier than an eel, I reckon,” Roger said.

  Rather than waiting for the pair to close on her, Charlotte dove past Billy. He cursed his surprise and then groaned as Charlotte leapt up to drive her elbow into his kidney. She turned to see Roger coming at her. He’d seen Charlotte take on his companions and adjusted his attack accordingly. Rather than take a swing, he held his club low, waiting for Charlotte to move. She’d be forced to soon; Billy had recovered from her blow and was ready to charge at her if given the chance.

  Charlotte darted toward Billy, hoping Roger wouldn’t risk hitting his partner along with her. She didn’t find out whether she was right. Billy saw her coming and, guessing her strategy, stepped aside but threw out a foot to trip her. She fell, but twisted before she landed so she could quickly roll to her feet. She was still crouched when Roger swung at her with his club, aiming for her head. Charlotte dropped to all fours and the club whooshed past her. She jabbed upward with her stiletto, hard. The blade sank deep beneath Roger’s kneecap. He screamed and dropped back. Charlotte grabbed for her blade, but pain flooded her arm as Billy’s metal-wrapped fist slammed into her. Ignoring her throbbing arm, Charlotte flattened against the ground and rolled into Billy’s shins. He fell over her, grunting when he hit the earth. Charlotte leapfrogged halfway up his body and drove her knee into the small of his back. She knew she had little time; Billy was a big man who’d have no trouble throwing her off once he got his breath back. She tugged off the leather cord she’d used to tie her hair. Slipping one end around Billy’s neck, Charlotte continued to put weight into her knee while hauling her arms until the cord was taut around his throat. Billy began to flail, his arms stretching toward her, fingers clawing at her—but flat on his belly, Billy couldn’t reach her. He grabbed for the leather cord, but Charlotte had wrapped the ends around her wrists for leverage. His attempts to stop choking were futile. In another minute he’d lose consciousness.

  Someone grabbed a fistful of Charlotte’s loose hair and yanked her head back. Then Jim’s knife was at her throat and his voice in her ear.

  “Let him go, you mangy bitch.”

  The blade pressed into her skin. Charlotte felt a sting and the warm trickle of blood on her neck.

  She dropped the ends of the cord and let the leather slide off her wrists. Billy’s head dropped down as he coughed and wheezed.

  Pulling on her hair and pressing with his blade, Jim made Charlotte stand.

  “That was fun at first,” Jim said. “But you probably made Roger lame. It’ll take more than your coin to make up for that.”

  Billy had managed to get onto his knees, but he was still gasping.

  “Now Billy, here,” Jim told Charlotte with another painful jerk of her hair, “he’s the thinker. A creative type. I bet he’ll know what’s best done with you.”

  Jim drew a sudden, sharp breath and a tiny, high sound squeaked out of his throat.

  “And I bet I geld you before you have a chance to cut her throat.”

  I know that voice, Charlotte thought. But how?

  Jim squeaked again and dropped his dagger, at the same time letting go of Charlotte’s hair. She jumped away from him.

  “You all right there, kitten?” Linnet smiled at Charlotte, but there was genuine concern in her eyes.

  Charlotte nodded. She glanced at the bandits, hoping her face didn’t mirror their alarm. Linnet is here? she thought. Charlotte could fathom neither rhyme nor reason in Linnet’s sudden appearance.

  “Good,” Linnet said. “Why don’t you get your stiletto, now. I know you’re fond of it.”

  Roger was still on the ground, clutching at his knee. He spat at Charlotte when she approached, throwing out every insult Charlotte knew, and several she didn’t.

  Ignoring him, Charlotte grabbed the hilt of her blade and jerked it free. Roger howled.

  Linnet tut-tutted. “That’s going to ache something awful when there’s weather coming in.”

  Billy was on his feet now, glaring at Linnet.

  “Shed that brass,” Linnet told him. “Or maybe you don’t care if your friend here keeps his small bits. I’m sure they’re quite small. Aren’t you, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You’re begging for—” Billy’s threat was cut short by Jim’s sudden scream.

  “Oh, that was just a tiny prick,” Linnet chided, then said to Billy, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you were saying.”

  Billy glowered at her.

  “We are going to leave now.” Linnet shoved Jim so hard he fell right onto Billy. “It would be very, very foolish for either of you to try to follow. I’m not too worried about your friend there.”

  Roger spat at her, but given that he was on the ground it had little effect.

  “Pip!” Charlotte called, and Pip ran to her, grasping her hand. The green-haired, pigtailed girl was trembling, her eyes still wide with fright.

  Charlotte led Pip to Linnet’s side.

  “The path at your back,” Linnet told her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  The three lowlifes began to shout at each other, casting blame wherever they could, as soon as Charlotte, Pip, and Linnet were gone. The path Linnet had directed Charlotte to was a return to the gardenesque design at the beginning of the maze. The appearance of twisting iron vines and mirrors that didn’t turn her reflection into something monstrous brought Charlotte more relief than she would have expected.

  “What are you doing here?” Charlotte asked Linnet as th
ey hurried along the narrow path.

  “I thought that was obvious—saving you. By the way, do I always have to save you?” Linnet sheathed her dagger. “You seem to like trouble, and I can’t always be around.”

  “It wasn’t Charlotte’s fault,” Pip told Linnet. “She came to help me! Who are you, anyway?”

  “Pip, this is Linnet,” Charlotte appreciated Pip’s attempt to defend her, but she couldn’t have the girl holding a grudge against Linnet. “She’s a friend from the Floating City.”

  “Oh,” Pip said, still a bit surly.

  Charlotte offered Pip a reassuring nod, then said to Linnet. “How in Athene’s name did you find me?”

  “We started to look as soon as your homing bird arrived,” Linnet answered. She’d inexplicably stopped in front of the row of mirrors and was inspecting them. “Ott decided the Moirai junction was our best chance of finding you. We’ve been here a week. The tinker at Pandora’s Box sent word as soon as Birch tried to sell his wares there.”

  “The shopkeeper works for Lord Ott?” Charlotte found that notion rather startling.

  “He’s more of an occasional contact than an employee,” Linnet said. “But then again, Ott has more occasional contacts than any other type of associate.”

  “Except you?” Charlotte asked with a smile.

  “Yes,” Linnet replied. “I’m quite special.”

  “We should keep moving.” Charlotte couldn’t wait to be free of the mirrored maze and was growing impatient with the delay in their departure. “Do you know the way out?”

  Linnet lifted onto the balls of her feet and grasped one of the thorn-covered metal vines winding along the mirrors. She gave it a twist and the mirror pulled back, sliding to the side with a hiss. On the other side was the green draping of the pavilion walls.

  “Oh, kitten,” Linnet said. “I always know the way out.”

  LINNET NOT ONLY knew the way out of the Garden of Mirrors, she also managed to lead Charlotte and Pip back to the center of the commercial hub in half the time it had taken Charlotte to reach the River Carnival.

  And when Charlotte suggested that they pick up Scoff before leaving the carnival, Linnet informed Charlotte that he’d already been “collected” by one of her “associates.” On their walk, Pip watched Linnet with a kind of awe that Charlotte couldn’t help but smile at, and any time Linnet looked directly at Pip, Pip would duck her head with an uncharacteristic shyness. The young girl proved just as susceptible to Linnet’s charms as everyone else; any signs of her initial distrust had vanished.

  To Charlotte’s surprise, Linnet took them to one of the many inns scattered among the shops. She told Charlotte that, compared to its peers, Abrams’s Boarding House offered accommodation neither ostentatious nor dodgy. Simple but clean, the three-story bunkhouse had a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen on its main floor, with the two upper floors dedicated to boarders.

  There was a sign hanging from its front door, No rooms available, that Charlotte regarded with suspicion, considering that she’d seen no such signs on any other East Moirai inn. When they stepped inside, the air was filled with irresistible scents. The scrumptious tang of slow-roasted game and thick gravy along with the warm, soft allure of freshly baked bread made Charlotte’s mouth water, and the sound her stomach made was more of a roar than a growl.

  Heavenly odors wafted from the kitchen into Abrams’s dining hall, promising scrumptious food to come, but when Charlotte saw the veritable feast laid out on the table she could hardly believe that yet more dishes remained to be served. One platter held a haunch of roast venison. Another, a suckling pig. Not one, but two roast chickens sat plump and honey-gold at the center of the table. Steam rose from carrots that glistened with the promise of butter, and baskets held fat, round loaves of dark bread. And despite the sign’s claim of no rooms to be had, the only boarders seated at the long benches were Charlotte’s friends. Lord Ott stood at the head of the table as if holding court.

  “There you are!” Ott spread his arms wide. “Welcome, welcome! Good to see you, my dear girl; please sit down. Now that you’ve arrived, we can partake of these fine offerings provided by Mr. Abrams’s cooks.”

  The rotund merchant wore a crisp white shirt and a silk vest of deep violet, as well as black trousers that accommodated his significant girth. Unable to help herself, Charlotte dashed forward and threw her arms around Ott.

  “Well, now.” Ott patted Charlotte’s head and then winked at her. “It’s good to see you too, Lady Marshall.”

  Embarrassed by her outburst, Charlotte drew back, blushing.

  For his own part, Lord Ott looked pleased at Charlotte’s display of affection, though he gave her a gentle push toward a chair. “No time to waste on sentiment, though. Business to be done.”

  Charlotte nodded and sank into the chair. Pip sat beside her, with Scoff in the next seat. He looked relieved to see them safe, but also bewildered by the current circumstance. After giving Pip a hug, he began piling food onto his plate. Grave and Birch sat opposite them. Grave appeared unperturbed by this sudden turn of events and equally uninterested in the food, but Birch wore an expression of wary puzzlement. He served himself just enough of each dish so as not to be blatantly rude.

  Instead of joining them at the table, Linnet sauntered up to her employer.

  “I trust you didn’t have trouble,” Ott said to her.

  “Bumbling amateurs are an irritation.” Linnet snatched the kerchief from his vest pocket, drew her blade, and began to polish it. “But hardly trouble.”

  With a brief glance of annoyance at having lost his kerchief, Ott grumbled something unintelligible.

  Birch cleared his throat, obviously ill at ease. “This man says you know him, Charlotte?”

  “A cautious lot, your companions,” said Ott with an approving nod. “An admirable trait, caution. Keeps you alive longer than blind trust. Considerably longer.”

  Ott’s comment didn’t make Birch any more comfortable. He fixed a pleading gaze on Charlotte.

  “Lord Ott is a friend to the Resistance,” Charlotte said. She tore off a chunk of still-warm bread and fended off the temptation to wolf it down. “And this is Linnet, Jack’s sister.”

  “Half-sister,” Linnet added drolly. “He’d be cross if you forgot to make that distinction.”

  “Really?” Scoff eyed Linnet with a new appreciation, though he addressed her around mouthfuls of food. “Jack has a sister? He never said so. That’s rather odd.”

  “Again, half-sister,” Linnet replied. She put her blade away and stuffed the kerchief back into Ott’s front pocket. “Hence the lack of his ever mentioning my existence.”

  Ott drew out the tall chair at the head of the table. Its wood creaked when he sat. “Linnet can regale you with her sordid family history after we’ve taken care of business.”

  “We have business with you?” Birch frowned at Ott. The tinker had yet to sample the food on his plate.

  “I have business with almost everyone.” Ott tone was mirthful, but Charlotte took note of the familiar sly cast of his expression. “And at this moment, your endeavors constitute a particularly valuable, but high-risk, investment. I may believe the Resistance has the moral upper hand compared to the Empire, but at times I feel I may as well be juggling hornets’ nests. I’m still a businessman and have to be prudent when it comes to managing my involvement in this conflict. Why else would I come personally to set things back in order?”

  “It’s true.” Linnet plopped onto the bench beside Grave and rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her hands. “He’d rather sit back and watch things happen than get his hands dirty.”

  Lord Ott ignored her, focusing instead on wrenching a drumstick from one of the chickens. “I’ll be giving you passage to New Orleans, and I’ll take care of your accommodation when we reach the city. It’s not the sort of place yo
u can stumble into without the right connections. In many ways, New Orleans is more dangerous than the Floating City.”

  “But the Resistance leadership is there.” Pip’s reticence had melted away. She waved her own drumstick at him in defiance. “Why wouldn’t we be safe there?”

  “There’s more to New Orleans than the Resistance. Much more,” Ott said gently. “It’s a strange and complex city that requires careful navigation. The threats therein aren’t specific to you, little emerald; they pose a risk to everyone.”

  Pip blushed at Ott’s new pet name for her. “But you’ll tell us what we need to do? Where to go?” She suddenly remembered that the chicken leg was food rather than a weapon and began to chomp on it.

  “I’m not just going to tell you,” Ott said, helping himself to a pile of carrots. “I’m going to show you.”

  “So does that mean I’m off?” Linnet quipped. She stabbed one of the carrots on Ott’s plate with her fork. “It sounds like you’ll be doing all the work.”

  Ott sighed, adding dryly, “I should say, I will show you with the invaluable assistance of those in my employ.”

  “That’s better.” Linnet batted her eyelashes at him and took a bite of the carrot.

  “You’re never like this with Margery,” Ott said. “You do realize you work for her, too.”

  Linnet smiled sweetly. “She’s nicer than you. You’re quite irascible.”

  Ott spared her a flat, unsympathetic look, batting her fork away when she angled for another carrot.

  “What about the others?” Charlotte’s appetite flagged as the question prodded at her nerves. “Do you have any news about Ash?”

  She wanted to say, “And Jack,” but stopped herself at the last moment. Now that Lord Ott had taken charge of their journey, the chances of reuniting with Ash and Jack were greatly improved. Charlotte had been trying to keep Jack from her thoughts, but now she needed to consider what she would do when she had to face him again. The back of her neck heated when she caught Linnet watching her, one eyebrow arched, with a smile that made her feel like the other girl knew exactly what she was thinking.