The Black Knife

by Jodi Meadows

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” I crossed my arms and shifted my weight to one hip. “Of course, we’d try to protect this fellow to the best of our abilities. We’re a civilized society, after all. We wouldn’t allow Hensley to come after him. But it seems to me that our new friend has a much higher chance of surviving this week if Hensley is also imprisoned.”

  “So true, Your Highness.” James rubbed his chin. “I wonder what he’ll decide.”

  “All right!” The driver glared between us. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  “Good,” I said. “First question: do you work for Lord Hensley?”

  A spasm ran through him and that acrid stink came again. “Yes. Lord Hensley hired me to kidnap you.”

  FOUR

  THE DRIVER—WHO CALLED himself Brooks—did tell us everything.

  At least, he was quite forthcoming with answers, and whether or not he told the truth, we’d have to find out. By the time the police came to take Brooks away, we knew the location of Hensley’s manufacturing facility, where he’d planned to ambush us—again—and where he stored the firefly. We even knew how many people worked for him, including police officers.

  “Did Brooks seem to have a suspicious amount of information?” James asked after we visited our real driver. He’d been knocked unconscious and tied up in the carriage house. The head of house security had said they’d found him just as he was coming around, which was lucky since he’d been gagged and his cries for help would have gone unheard.

  He was getting help now. I’d sent for the royal physician and a room had been offered to him at Rayner Manor, but he’d declined and was heading to his own home shortly.

  “Tobiah?” James nudged me with his elbow. “Brooks’s suspicious amount of information?”

  I glanced toward the Hawksbill gate. No one would have checked us on the way out. If we’d been drunk or not paying any attention whatsoever, he’d have gotten clean away with us.

  “Perhaps,” I said at last. “I suppose I’ll have a better idea of whether he’s telling the truth once I get there.”

  James’s eyes darkened. “To the ambush site? The Indigo Order is going there now.”

  I scowled, but I already knew that. One of the house guards had walked in just as Brooks was describing the place where he’d been told to drive our carriage and abandon us. Word had spread to the others, and even as we stood here, a team of Indigo Order soldiers was slipping into White Flag.

  It was for the best that the soldiers had something to do. If we’d interrogated the prisoner and gotten no answers, that wouldn’t have shone a favorable light on me as a prince, or James as a guard.

  But the fact that everyone now knew it had been Hensley’s machinations all along—that was both gratifying and annoying. It certainly made my job more difficult.

  “I’m not going to the ambush site.”

  James started to ask a question, but stopped himself. Instead, we walked to the palace in silence. While I was thinking about ways to put a stop to Hensley’s plans, James was probably thinking about ways to put a stop to my plans.

  The news of our near abduction had already reached Father’s ears by the time we arrived at the palace.

  “Are you all right? Let me look at you.” Father took my shoulders and pulled me closer, while Mother stood in the background, watching. Her eyes were dark and dangerous, but only my father spoke. “I’ll have Hensley’s head for this.”

  I didn’t say anything; there was no time to gloat that I’d been right about Hensley from the beginning, and if Father had just listened to me the night of my birthday party, none of this would be happening now.

  “The Indigo Order is pursuing him,” I said. “And thanks to the quick actions of James, we escaped with our lives and our health.”

  James stood a little straighter. Even Mother gave a faint smile.

  “Selecting James as your principal guard was the right decision.” Father nodded deeply, as though it had been his idea. “I heard how well you handled the situation, too. Quite swiftly. Perhaps I’ve been remiss in not allowing you more responsibility. But it’s difficult to see your child grow into a man.”

  No mention of James as his child, too. None whatsoever. Saints, no wonder I’d never guessed. It seemed as though Father had even forgotten what he’d done.

  I forced my tone even. “I’m glad to have made you proud, Father.”

  “Indeed. But you didn’t have to walk back here. I was about to have a new carriage sent for you.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “It gave me time to think about everything. But if you don’t mind, I am rather exhausted now. I’d like to rest.”

  “Of course.”

  I said good night to both my parents and headed toward the Dragon Wing and my quarters.

  “What are you planning?” James asked as we marched into my parlor.

  “I’m planning to stop Hensley.” My rib twinged as I peeled off my jacket and left it draped across a chair. Shoes came next. “Not at the ambush site. That’s pointless. Like you said, we have plenty of soldiers already going there.”

  “All right.” James sounded like he knew already, and definitely didn’t approve.

  “Look, Brooks is already late to the ambush.” I pulled out the spare set of vigilante clothes; the set I’d worn last night was still bloody and torn. “Hensley already knows we’re not going to be there. He’s likely figuring that Brooks gave up everything he knows—which is exactly what happened—and realizes he needs to move the firefly now.”

  James crossed his arms, chin tilted toward his chest. “So you’re going to . . . what?”

  “I’m going to keep him from getting that firefly to the Nightmare gang.” I closed myself into the dressing room and, as quickly as I could with all my various injuries, changed clothes.

  “You know that’s a stupid idea, right?” James said through the door. “You have soldiers and police who are better suited to doing that. They’re paid for it, in fact.”

  I finished with my trousers and shirt and headed to the washroom to find my boots and baldric. “I need to do this, James. I need to stop him.”

  “And he knows that. He’ll be expecting you tonight.” James followed me through the rooms.

  “He’ll be expecting the Indigo Order and the police. Sending them is what a smart prince would do, after all.” I strapped my baldric across my chest and gathered up my tools. “Besides, he knows I’m the vigilante. He’s expecting to be captured and be offered a bargain. He’s going to use my identity against me when he speaks to my father.”

  “I’m sure King Terrell won’t care when he discovers the truth.”

  I shook my head. “You heard him at dinner. ‘The vigilante is someone the city could do without.’ He’d revoke his approval of your position. I’d lose you as my guard and any chance of freedom in the future.”

  James lowered his eyes and nodded. “All right, but just because you want to be stupid doesn’t mean we need to be stupid. We’ll leave a clue for the Indigo Order, just in case.”

  In case what, he didn’t say. He didn’t have to.

  “Brooks won’t talk to anyone but us, at least for now, so there’s no danger of him giving away where we’re going. But there’s still the matter of your identity.” James frowned. “We’ll have to deal with that.”

  “I’m not sure we will.”

  “Why?”

  “Did you notice the smell? The way he kept rubbing his nose.”

  Understanding dawned in James’s eyes. “He’s on firefly.”

  I pulled my mask over my face and adjusted it so the eyes were forward. “Either firefly or shine. If it’s firefly, he’ll die during withdrawal. If it’s shine, he should make it. Then we’ll have to deal with him. But given his connection, I’m not optimistic for his long, healthy life.”

  James blew out a long breath. “I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do for him if it’s firefly.”

  I shook my head. “Perh
aps the royal physicians will figure out how to keep him from dying. We could obtain firefly for him to keep him alive a little while longer, but eventually he’d turn into a glowman. We’re trying to stop the spread of firefly and shine. Not create more glowmen.”

  “And getting to Hensley before he can distribute the firefly is more important.”

  “Unfortunately for Brooks.” I still didn’t know whether this decision was the best. The statement of intention James wrote for me last night was hidden in a desk drawer now, unfinished. It needed my attention. This whole situation needed more thought than just my righteous anger.

  But for now, Hensley had to be stopped.

  “Let’s go.” James headed toward the balcony door. “Before you argue: yes, I’m going with you. You’re still injured, and if you’re going to be an idiot, I suppose I’ll help you.”

  I bit off the rebuttal he’d known was coming. “All right. Fine. I guess you’ve proven yourself to be a worthy assistant.”

  James snorted and one after another, we rappelled from my balcony and slipped into the shadows of the King’s Seat and Hawksbill, avoiding the guards patrolling the lit streets and gardens.

  I wasn’t going to tell him, but saints, I was glad he was going with me.

  FIVE

  ONLY WHEN WE were over the Hawksbill wall and into Thornton did we discuss a plan.

  “The manufacturing facilities are a block from the storage area,” I said. “One of us should focus on destroying the facilities, while the other takes out the storage.”

  “Because letting you go off on your own has gone so well recently.” James shook his head. “We’ll do it together. First take out the supply, since it’s less likely to have as many guards. Then the manufacturing facility.”

  “That won’t work.” I plucked at my collar, trying to cool off, but the hot, still air sat heavy in the cramped alleyway. We were on the fringes of Thornton. Greenstone, where Brooks had said the facility stood, was only a few blocks away. “If we try to take the buildings one after another, we’re more likely to get caught. And killed. I’m not willing to risk that.”

  James frowned, but he wasn’t willing to risk it, either. That was why he’d come with me, after all.

  “Fine,” he said at last. “But once we’re there, we stay together until the last minute.”

  “All right.” I jerked my chin toward the market district again and dropped a handful of coins into his palm. “But first, we should procure the supplies. Well, you should. Even if you’re recognized, you probably won’t get into trouble.”

  “Probably.” He grinned, and we discussed a few items before he strode off.

  I found a crate to sit on while I waited, and a hundred dark thoughts poured at me at once. The glowmen last night. Romily. My father’s betrayal. I couldn’t even revel in the feeling of being alone again. My whole body ached, but here I was again, going out to stop one of Skyvale’s own, untouchable nobles.

  I saw them when I leaned back and let my eyes skim over the rooftops. The girls. There were three this time, but I identified the nameless girl right away. She was taller than the others, with a smooth, deliberate way of moving. Her hands brushed the daggers at her hips occasionally. She touched them for reassurance, the same way I found myself touching my mask.

  They were good at keeping out of the way of the mirrors, these girls. They were probably good at a lot of things.

  Who were they? Who was she?

  Then they were gone.

  “Ready?” James’s voice came from the other end of the alley. “Or do you need a few more minutes alone with the moon?”

  I shook myself and flicked my little finger at him before we divided the new supplies. “Did you have any trouble?”

  “Do I ever?” James grinned. “You’re the troublemaker, if you recall. I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”

  I wanted to refute that, but he was probably right.

  We spent a few minutes assembling the firebombs he’d purchased supplies for, measuring ingredients and pouring them into small glass containers. “Remember,” James said, “these will ignite on impact. Try not to let them ignite on you.”

  There was a fun thought.

  We fitted the vials into pockets and pouches. Four firebombs each. Four smoke bombs each. “This is it?” I asked.

  “Do you have room for more?”

  “Maybe if I had a better belt, like I asked for.”

  “Worry about your aim, not your belt.”

  “Maybe if you worried about belts more, you wouldn’t go around looking like that.” There was nothing wrong with his Indigo Order uniform, of course.

  He flipped me his little finger, but the levity was shallow. We’d have to use the firebombs in just the right places if we wanted to thoroughly destroy the facilities.

  Anxiety twisted through me as we made our way into Greenstone. It was bad enough I was willing to put my life at risk. But James’s, too? Hadn’t I just lost two friends?

  But James was truly a fighter, and he was aware of what could happen tonight. He knew the stakes.

  Together, James and I moved toward the location Brooks had given us. It wasn’t as far as the place Romily had taken me last night; that warehouse was on the river, while this was right in the center of Greenstone, surrounded by water-processing plants, textile factories, and other legitimate businesses.

  We paused a block away from Hensley’s place, scanning for guards.

  “There.” James pointed down the street, where a brown-jacketed man shifted his weight. “And in that window.”

  “Sharp eye.”

  We spotted four more, all street level. They’d be easy to sneak past if we took the long way around to the storage facilities first, but the manufacturing building was right here. Close.

  It was a five-story mammoth of a structure, with a partial sixth story in the front. Moss covered the brick face. A short smokestack stood like a sentinel. Windows spread evenly over the building, though grime covered the glass, obscuring the lit interior. From this distance, I could only make out the light and huge, imposing shapes.

  “Let’s head up to the roof.” I jerked my chin upward. “Maybe we can get a better idea of our surroundings. Then split up.”

  He nodded, and we sneaked through the streets. In the shadows, and away from the eyes of sentries, we scaled the high factory wall, using the window ledges and brickwork to help our footing.

  Wind scurried around the rooftop as we crouched low, checking for guards. Nothing. Just the sharp scent of wraith. Acrid. Eye watering. Not quite concealed by the other odors of Greenstone. When I glanced at James, he gave a clipped nod. He smelled it too.

  The partial sixth story loomed on the eastern side of the building, which meant the mirrors reflected the rest of the rooftop. Not ideal, but as long as we stayed low we would be fine. There was a door there, but flattened trash and grit covered the whole roof, including in front of the door, which meant it likely hadn’t been opened in months. Longer, maybe.

  “Look.” James kept the word soft as he nudged me and pointed toward the center of the roof. “A skylight.”

  Finally, some good news.

  Together, James and I crept across the rooftop, keeping one eye out for more guards, and one on the mirrors. The skylight was an elongated glass pyramid that sat in the center of the roof, filthy, but only because it was on the roof. We rubbed away some of the dirt and peered down into the building.

  Directly below us was a large, open chamber, spanning all five stories. A dozen metal vats dominated the space, most filled with a pale, iridescent liquid like what I’d seen in Professor Knight’s vials.

  “That’s it,” I muttered. “The firefly.”

  James’s breath hissed through his teeth. “And that’s Lord Hensley.”

  He was right. Even from above, I recognized Hensley’s broad shoulders and his confident gait as he approached one of the empty vats. No, it wasn’t empty, but whatever was inside it was dark, and ha
lf lost behind the crisscross of ladders and catwalks and platforms.

  “What’s he doing?” James shifted his weight.

  “Exactly what he said he does.”

  Far below, Hensley pinned his good hand to his chest with his stump, and spent a few moments wiggling his fingers out of his glove. If nothing else, I’d made getting dressed in the morning more difficult for him.

  But then, he pressed his hand against the side of the iron vat, and a faint red glow spread across the metal until it encompassed the whole thing. Gradually, the red turned brighter, orange then yellow then white. Somehow, the metal never buckled or rippled under the heat, but that seemed to be part of his magic. The same way he could burn just the top layer of skin, or contain a fire to only one room.

  Inside the vat, the dark liquid began to bubble and lighten.

  Bile raced up my throat.

  Hensley had been telling the truth when he’d claimed to personally oversee the production of his product. When he’d bragged about heating the firefly to just the right temperature. He could control the heat and how it moved.

  “Saints,” James breathed. His shoulders curled inward, pensive. No doubt he was thinking about the fire that raged through Lord Roth’s pre-wraith trophy room. And how Hensley had been invited to Rayner Manor again, just tonight.

  We moved back from the skylight, but before we could decide who’d go to the storage facility roof, the open door caught my eye.

  The Nightmare leader—the same woman Hensley had met with just over a week ago—was striding across the rooftop. Knives hung from her belt, and when she smiled, the tattoo shifted and glared at us. “Lord Hensley has been waiting for you,” she said.

  James and I lurched to our feet. In the mirrors, I caught several more figures spread across the roof. They held chains and pipes and knives. Two were armed with swords.

  We were surrounded.

  SIX

  JAMES AND I drew our weapons.

  We moved back-to-back, both of us with our blades in guard position.