The Complete Marked Series Box Set

by March McCarron

  Chae-Na may well be dead. Or she might be Quade’s pet, a toy to use and torment. He wished he were more angry than afraid, but it was fear that tolled loudest in his heart. The truth felt like a blow waiting to fall.

  “There are no men on the ramparts,” Arlow said in a wondering voice, his eyes shielded against the sun with a hand.

  “No,” Peer said. “Who’s left to attack the walls?”

  “Just us,” Malc said grimly. He was a giant, brawny, indestructible man, yet even he looked small standing in the city’s shadow.

  “Well…” Bray said. “What do you think? Through the wall, through the gate, or do we teleport?”

  They had been weighing the pros and cons of these various approaches all morning. Ko-Jin had felt sure that, if he could only lay eyes on the city, he would know the best way to proceed. But here he was, and certainty eluded him.

  “There’s nowhere we can teleport with confidence. We can’t be seen or heard. He has to have people looking for us.”

  “Which is why we shouldn’t go wandering through the streets,” Kelarre said. “No offense, General, but that get-up won’t fool anyone. Your look isn’t exactly screaming ‘farmer.’”

  They had passed through farm country that morning, and he’d found a broad, Chaskuan-style straw hat. He’d left what coinage he had in the pocket of the apron hanging on the line, but still felt a little guilty stealing from immigrants. Their lives were probably difficult enough as it was.

  “At least the hat covers most of my face,” he said with a shrug. “Best I can do.”

  “The dungeons are usually empty,” Whythe said.

  Bray shook her head. “Quade’s had six days to round up enemies. I wouldn’t bet on empty dungeons.”

  “Fernie didn’t say exactly where these passages were?” Peer asked.

  Ko-Jin sighed through his nose. He wished he’d had time to explore this new possibility before he’d left. “He said he found the entrance in Chae-Na’s office closet. And there are other entrances hidden throughout the palace. You have to press on the right floor tile to get the doors opened.”

  “So why don’t we just teleport directly into the secret passage? We know it’s there.”

  “Because,” Kelarre said, in a voice that sounded like an eyeroll, “I’m not exactly sure where it starts and ends. If I don’t hit it right, we could die.”

  “I wouldn’t die,” Malc replied, folding his beefy arms across his chest.

  “Congratulations!” Kelarre shot back, with sarcastic enthusiasm.

  “I would like to see what state the city is in,” Ko-Jin said, his gaze fixed on the walls. “If there are holdouts, I want to know. I say we pass through the wall and scope things out. If we can slip into the palace, great. If not, we teleport and hope for the best.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Arlow said. “If I’m there, we won’t be seen.” It was the kind of line he would normally follow up with a wink, but instead his face was pale, his eyes flinty.

  “And we have a plan,” Bray said. “Let’s move.”

  The group buzzed with nervous energy as they prowled toward the city. They were about to discover an ugly truth; the only question was how ugly. Ko-Jin could imagine a thousand horrific scenarios. He was sick with worry.

  Bray took his hand with her left and Arlow’s with her right, and they walked through the wall.

  Back where I’m supposed to be, he thought, the moment he was within the city again. The notion offered no relief; it was more like a shackle clicking shut.

  He scanned the street and found it deserted. Bray slipped back through the stone to retrieve the rest of their party, and Ko-Jin remained vigilant.

  Beside him, Arlow was nearly vibrating, waves of fear coming off him like rolling heat.

  “They’ll be fine,” Ko-Jin said. “Mae’s sharp, and Quade has no cause to care about her or your son.”

  “You were there when we signed,” Arlow said darkly. “You know that’s not true.”

  Ko-Jin swallowed. “All the same…”

  When their entire party was once again within the perimeter of Accord, they set off towards the city center. They walked at a natural pace, and Ko-Jin kept his head ducked, so that the brim of his hat would conceal his well-known face.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—blood in the streets, gunfire from every direction, shrieks and cries. Certainly, he thought the change would be noticeable. But the city appeared much as it usually did, apart from the ubiquitous presence of Quade’s soldiers and the fact that everyone was smiling.

  That is, until they turned a corner and saw three bodies lying in the gutter. Based on their armbands, they were Pauper’s Men. They must have tried to fight back before losing clarity.

  “Cline…” Arlow murmured, his eyes locked on the shape of a large bald man.

  Ko-Jin marched by as if he didn’t see this appalling sight, and so did everyone else. He could hear children squealing in play on the sidewalk; their feet slammed in unison as they chanted: “No man wills; no man wills; to face that face, that face that kills.” The hairs on the back of Ko-Jin’s neck prickled.

  “Blighter,” Arlow hissed under his breath, grabbing Ko-Jin by the arm and dragging him around the corner of a building. Ko-Jin caught sight of a familiar red-bearded man before being hauled out of the street. The others followed, and they pressed themselves into a narrow alley.

  “What’s wrong?” Malc asked.

  “Foy Rodgeman,” Arlow said. “But I don’t think he saw me…”

  “We’re pushing our luck out here,” Kelarre said. “Even his luck,” he jerked his thumb at Arlow. “I think it’s safe to say there aren’t any holdouts, General.”

  Ko-Jin nodded. “Very well. You and Arlow go ahead. Find the passageways and then come back for us.” He grasped Kelarre and Arlow each by a shoulder. “And be careful, blight it. Plug up your ears if you have to. No heroics.”

  They left with a ringing pop, and Ko-Jin slid down into a crouch, prepared to wait. Bray slumped against the wall beside him, giving Peer and Whythe a moment of privacy. On the other side of the alley, Malc had his gaze fixed in the direction of the palace, as if he could see straight through the leagues of buildings that separated him from his bevolder.

  “Ko-Jin,” Bray whispered, her green eyes terribly serious. “I want you to make me a promise.”

  Ko-Jin didn’t like the sound of this. He suspected he knew what she would say, and would rather not hear it. “Fine,” he said. “I promise to never get sloppy drunk and try to flirt with you again.”

  Her laugh was sharp and surprised, but quickly cut short. She snatched the hat from his head. “I can’t take you seriously in this thing. No, you know what I mean. I can’t let Quade take me. I know things that he wants to know, things I’ve sworn to keep secret. And I cannot bear the thought of being his puppet.”

  “Nor can I,” Ko-Jin said with a shiver. He could still remember what Quade’s gift had felt like. The sensation had been insidious; he had not believed himself out of control. In the moment, the feeling had been indistinguishable from love.

  “If I’ve lost myself, and you haven’t yet, I want you to take me out. Honestly, it would be a relief.”

  “I really don’t want to do that,” Ko-Jin said, his voice snapping. He loved Bray. He couldn’t bear the thought of her blood on his hands.

  “I know,” she said. “I’d prefer it not go down that way, too. But…please?”

  “Would you do the same for me?”

  “If you asked me to,” she said. “Though I’d hate to be the one to take a person like you from this world.”

  He smiled. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He considered her for a long moment—her stubborn expression, the white-knuckled fist pressed to her knee. “Alright. I promise. But do me a favor, and don’t let it come to that.”

  She nodded. “And you? Do you want the same promise?”

  He was not afraid o
f death. “Oh, yes. Feel free to put me out of my misery whenever you see fit.”

  She snorted. “We really are quite the pair.”

  He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she broke into a full-throated laugh. “Idiot.”

  He patted the back of her hand and settled in to bide his time. It was a short wait.

  Kelarre returned alone, and Ko-Jin launched to his feet. “Well?”

  “We found an entrance to one of the passageways—actually, Arlow kind of fell into it.” He dropped to the ground. “It’s a bit of a low clearance. This will be safer. Shall we?”

  Ko-Jin clenched his jaw, fell to his knees, and took the young man’s hand. He flew into a void of nothingness, with a lurch deep in his core. When they reappeared, he found himself kneeling in complete darkness. The air was thick with dust. Beside him, Bray sneezed.

  “Ko-Jin?”

  “Ar?” he asked the shadows. “Where are we, exactly?”

  “Behind the rear wall of the library. I’m going to find Mae.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  He stood, smacked his head, and then ducked into a crouch. They hurried along the hallway, and slowly Ko-Jin’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. There were slight vents that let in slivers of light from the main rooms of the palace. When they came to a crossing, Ko-Jin realized that poles connected the various levels of the palace. He might shimmy up or slide down to access the different floors. These tunnels really did connect the entire building. How did I not know these were here?

  Perhaps the previous king had known of these passages and the knowledge had died with him. Surely, Chae-Na or Jo-Kwan would have said something if they’d known. It was an enormous gap in their security.

  As they came around a corner, Arlow froze. Ko-Jin bumped into him. The sound of voices drifted to them—not from the outer rooms, but from further down the passage itself.

  “Who’s there?” a youthful voice called.

  “Fernie?” he whispered, relief blooming in his chest.

  “Ko-Jin?” Fernie cried, sounding surprised and delighted.

  They met at the next intersection. Fernie’s face was a mottle of bruises, his right cheekbone still actively bleeding. Ko-Jin pushed his way past Arlow—who grumbled about cobwebs—and hauled the young man into an embrace.

  Around the corner came two more Chisanta: Clea and, to Ko-Jin’s surprise, Dedrre, the old inventor.

  “Mae? Linton?” Arlow asked, jumping in before Ko-Jin could speak.

  “Alive. Unharmed,” Fernie said.

  “Chae-Na?” Ko-Jin asked, his voice rough. His entire body tensed in anticipation of the answer.

  “He’s been mostly ignoring her, actually. For now.”

  Ko-Jin sagged in relief, the knot in his stomach unraveling. “Thank the Spirits. What about Zarra?”

  Fernie frowned in thought. “I actually don’t think I’ve seen her, which is odd…”

  Ko-Jin’s thumb grazed the ring on his middle finger—her ring. “I should find her.”

  “Before you do that,” Fernie said. “We’ve got a problem. Quade will be looking for me. Clea and I only just escaped. He’ll find these passages soon.”

  “So we leave and regroup,” Ko-Jin said.

  “Right, we could. But Dedrre and I have spent the past three days setting up canisters of vaporized sedatives at all the vents. It might be our best shot. If we act right now.”

  Ko-Jin cracked a surprised smile. “That’s a blighting good plan, Fern!”

  Clea glanced at Fernie with new interest. His cheeks bloomed pink, but he pretended not to notice. “You mean it’s your plan, right?”

  “That’s what makes it so good,” Ko-Jin said with a laugh. “No, but truly, I’m proud of you.”

  “Be proud later. Help us put the palace to sleep now.”

  “Aye, aye,” Ko-Jin said. “There are seven of us. Tell us where to go.”

  Fernie shook his head in a bemused way, probably at their sudden role reversal. But then he swiped his silly, over-long hair from his eyes and got down to business. “Alright. This is how it’ll work—”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chae-Na’s knees ached where they pressed against the floor. The fabric of her dress had nearly dried from when she’d wet herself. The smell, however, had not dissipated.

  It was un-queenly to kneel in one’s own urine, but Quade had ordered her not to move. “Stay still, darling, until I decide what to do with you.” She would embrace greater humiliations than this before she’d risk disappointing him.

  Veldon had also failed to hold his bladder, though he’d lasted longer than she. From her peripheral vision, she’d seen the flaming blush creep up his neck. If she were permitted to move, she would have taken his hand in commiseration.

  The experience was less mortifying than she might have imagined. They’d been children together, after all, and they had already seen each other bare and vulnerable. It was an odd kind of comfort, to know a person could go on loving you no matter how you might be debased.

  Still, she dearly hoped that Quade would return soon, so there would be no need to test this theory further. Chae-Na was desperate for a moment of privacy, a chamber pot, and a bath.

  She was also desperate for Quade himself. Please come back to me, she pleaded silently. I need you.

  His presence was the day, his absence the night—and when it stretched long, she dreaded the sun might not rise again. That he might be gone, and she desolate without him.

  Everyone in the room remained mute, save for one. Yarrow Lamhart never stopped speaking. The truths that streamed from his mouth, uttered in emotionless tones, meant little to her. The Fifth seemed fixated on scientific facts. He’d monologued all night about the stars, and that morning he’d droned at length about deep sea biology.

  Last she’d seen Quade, he’d been trying to persuade different types of information from the Fifth, calling upon a combination of pain and pleasure as incentives.

  She would never admit Quade capable of failure, but his efforts had not yet produced results. Apart from making her feel uncomfortable and a little jealous, that is.

  The baby whimpered, and soon Chae-Na caught the wet, suckling sound of breastfeeding. She couldn’t turn her head, so she hadn’t seen Mae in some time. But she knew her friend was there, sitting on the sofa at the back of the room. For good or for ill, their fates were now tied together.

  The Pauper’s Queen had been ordered to keep the child quiet. Every time Linton cried, Chae-Na’s gut clenched tight as a fist. This was disobedience, and Quade would not be happy about it.

  Oh, Quade…

  As if her thoughts had summoned him, the doors crashed open and Quade appeared. He strode into the room, his shoes clicking against the marble. He looked handsome, dressed all in black and wearing two swords: one at his hip, a second strapped across his back. An alarming bruise marred his left cheekbone; she sucked in a breath at the sight. Who would dare strike such a face?

  When his eyes fell upon her, it was clear he’d forgotten she was there. He changed course, approaching with a smile. And then his nose wrinkled, and he paused.

  Chae-Na’s face burst into flame. This humiliation was so cutting, she feared it might leave a scar. How lowly she was, how unworthy. Disgusting, filthy girl!

  Quade graced her with his presence, even despite the smell. He grazed her burning cheek with his cool fingertips. “Ah, sorry my dear. I should be more precise with my wording.”

  “I did not wish to displease you.”

  “Of course not. How could you? You’re a sweet thing, Chae-Na. A bit of a bore, if we’re being honest, but generally beyond reproach.” He sighed, his thumb tracing her jawline. “What should I do with you, then?”

  “Whatever you please,” she said.

  He smirked, but then shook his head in a dismissive way. Her heart plummeted.

  Quade looked past her, presumably to where Mae and the baby sat. “How is the wee prince today, Mrs. Bowlerham?�
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  “Thirsty,” Mae answered without pause.

  Quade snorted. “Clever. Very clever.” He cocked his head, studying Mae with glinting eyes. “Tell me, has our Fifth said anything of interest since I left?”

  “He went on about octopuses for quite a while,” Mae said blandly. “Did you know they’ve got three hearts?”

  This did not amuse Quade. His face darkened, his nostrils flared, and the room seemed to drop in temperature. Wheeling round, he leveled the storm of his gaze upon Yarrow Lamhart.

  “The flower urchin, venomous. The red urchin, centuries old—”

  Quade growled. He flew into violent motion, whipping a dagger from his belt and pressing the tip to Yarrow’s heart. “I do not care about bleeding sea urchins. I want to know the future. I want to know the secrets of the past. I want to know what my enemies are doing. And if you do not begin to offer me information of merit, I swear by every Spirit in the Company and the Blighter himself, I will run you through.” This speech left him heaving for breath.

  Chae-Na assumed he was bluffing, until a stream of red ran from the point of his blade.

  “Feeding primarily on algae and de—” Yarrow’s voice cut short discordantly, like a dropped instrument. The beat of silence that followed fell strange upon her ears. She’d grown so accustomed to the white noise of his voice.

  The pause was brief. Then he spoke again, in a tone that was no more emotive, yet somehow far more powerful. “It ends before the death of the day. The age of the marked is in its dying hours.” Quade stumbled back from Yarrow, his hand flying to his mouth. “The Chisanta will be no more. The Chisanta will be no more. No gifts, no sacrifices, no marks. The Chisanta will be no more. Before the death of this day, the Chisanta will be no more.”

  Quade’s face blanched, turning chalky white beneath his bruises. His fingers darted to the mark on his neck, scrubbing at the raised symbol. “No…” he said, his voice soft and sad. “No. It cannot be. It cannot…”

  “The Chisanta will be no more,” Yarrow intoned. “Because of the actions of the mad man, the Chisanta will be no more.”