by Brondos, Pam
“It’s a call station,” Annin whispered. “The coachmen use it to call up to the rooms to let people know their rides are ready.” She slid a disc to the side, revealing the open mouth of the half-orange shape. The disc swung back and forth when she let it go.
“Lucky for us no one’s going anywhere tonight.” Nat hid her bag under her cape and wiped the dust marks from the floor with the sole of her boot.
“Our luck will run out eventually.” Annin cracked open the door. Cool night air flooded the room. “Let’s hope we’re not around when it does,” she whispered as they slipped outside.
They sprinted down the side of a wide gravel drive and around a corner. Nat sniffed and smelled baking bread. We must be near the kitchens, she thought as they continued to run.
Soon the smell of bread was replaced by the reek of garbage. Nat glanced to her right and recognized the scullery entrance she and Soris had used months ago to gain entrance into the castle. The sound of voices and the clank of iron pots spilled out into the narrow alley.
“I’ve been here before,” Nat whispered. Annin didn’t have a chance to respond.
“Eh! What are you two skulking around here for?” A scullery maid dropped a wicker basket. Overcooked turnips fell from the basket and rolled toward Nat’s feet. The maid took a step toward them and lifted her hand to shade her eyes. Light from the kitchen surrounded her, but Nat and Annin remained in the darkness. Annin hopped behind Nat.
“Just disposing of the Chemist’s garbage.” Nat ducked her head and lowered her voice. She stumbled back into Annin, trying to move away from the light.
“Why is His Chemistness sending guards to dispose of garbage?” The maid wiped her nose and took another step toward them.
“It’s special garbage and if you’re smart, you’ll take that sodden face of yours back into the kitchen. Question the Chemist and you’ll end up being questioned by the Chemist.” Annin’s fake baritone broke.
The girl’s face blanched. She spluttered an apology and ran back into the scullery. Annin and Nat bolted down the garbage-strewn lane, jumping over rotten clumps of food and skirting the rats lurking along the crumbling brick walls. They burst around the side of the garbage bins at the end of the lane.
Annin fled into the night and Nat followed, recognizing a fountain, an alley, and a crumbling brick fence as they raced away from the castle into the heart of the city. They jogged down an alley behind a row of houses. Nat’s foot hit a metal pail set near a fence. The pail tumbled down the alley, setting off a chorus of barks and howls. Annin cursed under her breath and snatched Nat’s arm, yanking her to a stop behind a broken wagon.
Nat peered around the wagon and spotted a globe-shaped light at the end of the alley. A dark-robed figure held the globe aloft at the end of a thin pole. The figure was close enough that Nat could hear the swish of robes from their hiding spot. The light sputtered, casting broken shadows in a circle beneath the pole. The light bearer paused. The chorus of barking and howling slowly dwindled to a single wail.
The boots of the light bearer thudded softly against the cobblestone of the narrow backstreet. Nat fumbled for her sword, hidden inside the bulky fabric of the soldier’s pants. Her elbow hit the broken wagon wheel. The figure stopped and lowered the pole.
“Your stealth has diminished.” The woman’s voice sounded amused.
“She banged her elbow, not me.” Annin rose from behind the wheel. Nat dropped her sword on the cobblestone, startled by Annin’s actions.
“Then you ought to choose a quieter companion.” The light bearer lifted her pole higher and stepped toward the wheel. Piercing dark eyes and a sharp nose glowed in the light when she lowered her hood.
“Her strengths outweigh her many weaknesses, Matilda,” Annin whispered and embraced the woman.
Matilda pushed the soldier’s cap away from Annin’s forehead and kissed her gently on the brow. “Mervin said I might find you lurking in the shadows, little Afferfly.” She smiled down at Annin. “We must move away from here,” she said, letting go of her. “A light bearer that lingers in an alley will alert more than just the dogs. Follow a few paces behind until I tell you it is safe to speak.” She pulled the hood back over her face and turned toward Nat. “Do keep quiet,” she said.
Nat picked up her sword and fell into step behind Matilda, feeling embarrassed and relieved.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“I’ve been a light bearer for three years,” Matilda explained and set the pole in the corner of a long shed behind the bookshop. Wooden crates obscured one wall, creating a tight space for the three women. Nat sniffed and smelled the familiar unpleasant odor of rudit. She examined the crates, wondering if Matilda and Mervin used them to store food.
“I thought all the light bearers were Mudug’s snitches,” Annin said. She tugged the guard’s tunic over her head.
“Which is precisely why I took the position.” She gave Annin a wise look. “After people accused of aiding the rebels started disappearing, becoming a light bearer was the safest way for me to move around the city unnoticed. It provides Gennes’ messengers an easier way to contact us, and I feed the castle guards a bit of information every now and then to avoid suspicion.”
Nat lifted the guard’s cap off her head, freeing her tightly bound hair. She shook her head in disgust.
“Why don’t the people stand up to Mudug?” Nat asked.
“Fear and lies, Sister. Mudug’s mastery of spreading both has bent most of the population to his will.” Matilda folded her long black cloak over her arm. Her straight chin-length hair swung to the side. “I suspect your and Andris’ appearance in Rustbrook is meant to straighten them out.” Her lips curved into a smile.
“Andris is here?” Nat asked, feeling both relieved and agitated.
“Yes, they arrived late this afternoon. They’re in the basement. I believe everyone will be surprised to see you. Except Mervin,” she added.
Nat and Annin quickly removed their guard uniforms and followed Matilda through the yard choked with trees, past a small garden, and through a wide door in the back of the shop. Nat stumbled over a stack of boxes near the back entrance.
“Careful, Sister,” Matilda scolded as she swiftly shut the door behind her.
Nat mumbled an apology and cautiously shuffled around in the dark away from the door. Her nerves were already on edge at the thought of confronting Andris and seeing Soris. She glanced at the beams of moonlight passing through a set of uncovered windows facing Wesdrono Street. The light cut through the half-empty bookshelves. Matilda’s bookstore inventory hadn’t improved since Nat had walked through their front door months before with Soris leaning against her shoulder. Annin tugged at her sleeve, pulling her away from her memories. She followed her down the circular stairs to the basement.
“Any news, Matilda?” Andris’ voice floated up the stairs. Nat’s foot lingered above the next step.
“No news, but I did find something.” Matilda strode into the office with Annin trailing behind her.
“Annin? I thought you’d—” Soris’ voice was followed by a crashing sound. “Where’s Natalie?”
“I’m right here.” Her boots clunked against the final few wooden steps. Nat ducked her head and when she looked up, Soris was in front of her. He had a puzzled look on his face. Nat accepted his extended hand and leaned close to his ear before alighting from the last step. “I didn’t like Andris’ plan,” she whispered to him.
“Neither did I,” he replied with a little smile that disappeared as he helped her off the last step and ushered her into the room.
The room was crowded with stacks of books and papers, a few worn chairs, a wide bench, and an overturned table Andris was setting upright.
“We had to get a little creative to make it here since your wagon was gone,” Nat said, her voice strong despite her frayed nerves. She glanced at Mervin. He gave her a quick wink.
“You’re just in time.” Mervin stood, making room for Nat and Annin o
n the bench. Soris sat next to her before Mervin had a chance to reclaim his place.
Three triangle-shaped lights hung from the ceiling across from the bench. The green-colored panes cast a sickly hue on Andris and Benedict, who sat on narrow upholstered chairs.
“We were pondering how to get into the castle.” Mervin poured a cup of tea. His large hands enveloped the delicate cup as he handed it to Nat.
She took a sip and glared at Andris over the rim. “Annin led us through the Sisters’ tunnels in the castle to get here. I’m surprised you had any question about how we’d get in?” Her voice was calm, but she felt like flinging the tea at Andris’ face. Andris leaned forward in his chair. His left eyelid twitched.
“And I have this now.” Annin extracted the iron key from a deep pocket in the soldier’s vest. “Makes getting in much easier.” She tossed the key in the air, and Andris reached out to snatch it. He gave Annin a murderous look. “You have no idea where that key goes, so give it back,” Annin said. She set her cup on the floor and uncurled her fingers in front of him.
Nat could tell she was enjoying poking at Andris and delighted in the scowl on his face. He rolled the key around in his hand, then slapped it into Annin’s palm. His scowl faded and he nodded as if accepting the inevitability of their presence.
“Fine, Annin and Soris will rendezvous with Benedict, the Sister, and me at the Rewall. We’ll use the tunnels once we get to the castle. Soris, explain the details of the plan to Annin and the Sister.” He stood and banged into one of the lights. His hand shot out to steady the lamp.
“What is the Rewall?” Nat asked, not caring if she sounded ignorant.
“It’s a slum west of the castle, Sister,” Matilda answered.
Andris pulled at his beard, then looked at Mervin. “Mervin, can you arrange a boat big enough to take six people downriver? We’d want to depart from the west dock to avoid attention.” He paced the tiny room.
“For six people?” Mervin asked. “I can do my best. You’ll want it tomorrow, I’m guessing?”
Andris nodded. “Something that can get us as far from the city by midmorning. If a boat is impossible, horses would work.”
“Horses might be easier. There’s a stable west of the city I use when I need a good team for the mountain roads. The owner owes me a favor or two.” Mervin set his own cup on the table. “I’ll see to it. It will give me a chance to dispose of those bags of rudit I shoved into the crates in the storage shed. No use trying to hide something when the whole neighborhood can smell it, eh?” He turned toward the stairs.
“Mervin, before you go, finish telling me what you heard about Mudug’s mines near the Keyen Mountains.” Soris leaned forward and pressed his clenched fist to his chin. Nat glanced at the uncomfortable expressions on Andris’ and Benedict’s faces and wondered what conversation she and Annin had missed.
“You’re asking about the duozi, I assume?” Matilda answered and cocked her head to the side. Andris cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to the other. Benedict hunched back when he heard the word “duozi.”
“What have you heard?” Soris’ voice bordered on demanding.
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk about the mines after we accomplish what we set out to do.” Andris moved next to Mervin. “Horses will work, Mervin. Let me help you with those rudit bags. Matilda, any chance you can scrounge up some food for the good Sister and Annin? I’m sure they’re starving.” He placed a hand on Matilda’s back and ushered her up the stairs. “Mervin, after you,” he said, nearly pushing him.
Mervin arched his brow and regarded him. “In a moment, Andris.” He turned to Soris. “I sent word to Gennes of what we’ve heard about the mines, but it can’t hurt to tell you, too. My information is that Mudug is sending people from the Rewall to work as slaves in his mines. I can’t confirm any rumors that duozi are there as well.” He glanced at Andris’ hand still clasped on his arm. Andris let go. The towering man turned to Annin. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, Annin, but the sight of you has been a blessing,” he said in a perceptibly gentle voice. He leaned down and embraced her, then climbed the circular stairs. Andris clipped up the stairs after him. His face was the shade of a beet.
“I’ll be right back.” Nat shot toward the stairs, knowing this might be her only chance to confront Andris alone.
“You’re not leaving me alone with them?” Benedict pointed to Annin and Soris.
“Would you shut up?” Annin growled.
At the top of the stairs, Nat grabbed Andris’ arm just as Mervin’s tall frame disappeared out the back entrance. “You had no right deciding to leave us,” she said.
“This is my mission. I’ll do what I think’s best.” He leaned forward and poked his finger at her chest. The store was too dark to make out his expression, but the tone of his voice told Nat plenty.
“What’s best?” She slapped his hand away. “How were you going to get into the castle without Annin? What were you going to do? Barge in through the front gates?”
“I’m not going to risk messing up this mission. Keep your focus off Soris, Sister, or I will find a way to leave you behind.”
“So abandoning us was about Soris.” She leaned forward, feeling anger coil inside her. “You accuse me of losing focus because of my emotions? What about you? You left behind the one person who can safely get you into the castle just to get rid of me! Where was your focus? Where was your emotional check when you made that decision? I have proven to you that I can take care of myself over and over again. My focus was fine last night when I took down those Nala. My focus was fine when I helped capture Mudug’s guard.” She spat out the words. “Why can’t you acknowledge that? Is it because I’m not from Fourline?” Andris shot her a dangerous look, but Nat didn’t care. “Or is it because you don’t think I’m good enough for your brother?”
“You have no future together. You will just hurt him more than you already have.” Andris stepped so close his hot breath hit her face. Nat glanced at the floor, not wanting him to see the pained expression on her face. “When this is over, he won’t be treated as a hero, he’ll be treated as an outcast. He knows the reality of his future. Don’t lead him down a path of thinking he has an alternative.”
“Soris can step over to my world and live with Barba and Cairn. Have a life like Annin did. I’ll work with Ethet and figure out some way to reverse the effects of his Nala bite so he can pass through the membrane. Maybe we can even find a cure for the duozi,” she argued, voicing a hope she’d silently been fostering.
“If generations of Healing Sisters couldn’t find a cure for the duozi, Sister, what makes you think you can?” He looked down his nose at her. “If you care for him, the best you can do is leave him to find his own way. Don’t give him hope where there is none.”
“There’s always hope, Andris, always a chance of finding a cure. I’m not leaving him to live a life on the run,” she said. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth together.
“And that’s why I left you in the forest. You can’t think rationally when it comes to him. And I’m starting to think he may have the same problem with you.” He looked through the empty shelves toward the grimy front window. “If we make it through the next few days, understand this, Natalie: you and my brother will never see each other again.” He brushed past her and disappeared out the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Nat uncurled her body from the tight confines of the wooden crate in Matilda’s storage shed. Her orb rolled on the floor and spun before rising shakily into the air. It looks like I feel, Nat thought as she stretched her arms above her head. Her head ached and her eyes felt swollen.
The unpleasant smell of rudit wafted into her nose as she shook out her tunic and slipped it over her head. Why was she the lucky one who had to sleep in the same place Mervin had stored the bags of cheese? He’d removed them before she’d locked herself inside the crate with a hidden compartment, but the smell lingered. Now her hair and clothe
s reeked again.
The door to the storage shed creaked open. Nat reached for her dagger and her orb pulsated above her head, poised to strike.
“Put that down.” Annin gestured toward the dagger in Nat’s hand. She held a small tray. The smell of cinnamon filled the air. “Now would not be a good time to stab me. I’m being nice for once.” She slid the tray on top of the crate. Nat’s orb floated above the roll and mug.
“Is that what I think it is?” The aroma of coffee lingered with the cinnamon. She reached for the roll and grabbed the mug.
“Yes. You look like a bastle slept on your face,” Annin observed.
“The nice just went out the window,” Nat said with a full mouth. The coffee scalded her tongue, but she didn’t care. She took another sip and pulled on her boots. “Where’d you sleep?” Even in the dim light of the orb, Nat could see a sheepish look on Annin’s face. Nat buckled her belt and took another sip of the coffee.
“Upstairs, in my old room.” Annin knelt and pulled Nat’s bedding from the crate. Her nose twitched. “It smells like something died in here.” Her face contorted as she balled up the bedding. She sniffed in Nat’s direction. “Maybe it’s you.”
“Thanks, and I was just going to ask you if you wanted a bite.” Nat shoved the remainder of the roll into her mouth.
“Hurry up. Soris and I are leaving with Mervin in a few minutes. Andris wants you in the shop. Washroom is behind the shed. Be quiet when you use it since Mervin and Matilda are risking their lives by having us here.” She whisked the mug out of Nat’s hand and disappeared out the door with it and the bedding.
Nat reduced her orb to a dim glow. It spun around the room while she pulled her hair back with sticky fingers. Other than the lingering smell of rudit, coffee, and roll, the shed looked untouched. She pocketed the orb and moved as quietly as she could through the dark yard to the washroom.
