[Sin Eater's Daughter 3] The Scarecrow Queen

by Melinda Salisbury

  “What’s that?” he asks, and I hold it up so he can see the cover.

  He squints to read the title. “Gods, that’s old.” He moves back to the table with the goblet on and looks down at it.

  “Are you all right?” I ask softly.

  He shakes his head, as if troubled by a fly. “Fine.”

  “Merek—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Ever. I’d prefer to excise it from all memory. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. So, what did it say?” I ask. “The message.”

  All traces of awkwardness vanish from his face, replaced with a bright, triumphant expression. “They struck again. The Rising Dawn. Last night. Here, in Lortune itself.” He pauses for effect, and I stare at him, open-mouthed. “They daubed The Rising Dawn and drew the half-sun on the door of the sheriff’s house. And then they released a dozen live rats via a window. The sheriff was woken up by his wife’s shrieking.” He almost smiles. “The letter begged forgiveness, said a patrol had passed every ten minutes and that they saw nor heard nothing until the screaming started. There was no sign of how they got in; no one left their posts, no one saw anything.”

  “About time they showed up here,” I say. “I was beginning to think they’d forgotten about Lortune.”

  Merek makes an amused sound. “It makes me wonder, though. . .” He frowns, and walks to the window, his back to me as he trails a finger down the shutters, tracing the grain of the wood. “How do they work?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it, Errin. In the last two moons there have been Rising Dawn messages left across the land, beginning in Chargate, then Haga, Monkham, and now, finally, here.” He turns to me, his eyes bright in the firelight, a spot of colour high on each cheek. “Same words. Same sigil. Eight weeks after the first message was left in Chargate, after working their way across the country, they attack – for want of a better word – here – and – as you say, finally. They finally strike in the heart of his power. Now, there’s no way the townspeople themselves could be behind the attack; Aurek is doing everything he can to keep the Dawn’s activities quiet, no one is allowed to speak of it – we’ve all been warned to hold our tongues or lose them. And no one, save Aurek’s most trusted men, is allowed to travel between towns. So either Aurek’s own men are organizing or aiding a rebellion – which is unlikely – or the Rising Dawn are somehow infiltrating the towns. And if that’s the case, what if they’re rooting cells inside them, one by one. Not getting in and then out, but just getting in, waiting for the right moment to rise up—”

  “Merek. . .”

  “They’re gathering support.” Merek walks back to the table and picks the goblet up, raising it to his lips. “They’re spreading their message. They’re preparing people to fight back. That’s why it took them so long to get here. This is it.”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions, Mer.” I put my book down and cross my arms. “The townspeople would be the first to hand the rebels in if they were here – their children are being held hostage. There’s no way they’d tolerate strangers in their midst. He’s counting on it; that’s where his power is. And there’s nothing to suggest the Rising Dawn are doing anything anywhere other than just passing through, leaving messages to keep hope alive. I’m not criticizing them!” I say when his expression darkens. “If anything I’m glad they’re being smart about it. Anything more might make him retaliate against innocents.”

  He frowns, taking another sip of the wine. “Maybe.”

  “Definitely. And I know you don’t want that.”

  “Of course I don’t,” he snaps. “They’re my people, Errin. They’re the reason I stayed.”

  I let out a long sigh. “Give me some of that?” I ask, and he brings it to me. I drink, and pass it back to him, mixed feelings battling for dominance. On the one hand I need the bright burst of joy when Rising Dawn messages are reported, because it means someone – hopefully Twylla – is out there fighting back. It means Merek and I aren’t alone.

  But at the same time, there’s terror every time the Rising Dawn do anything, because of the children. Ever since I learned he had golems sweep the towns in the dead of night, instructed to take the children from their beds, I’ve been torn between secretly cheering the rebels on, and being frightened their assaults will make him lash out in an even harsher way.

  The people have been promised the children will be kept safe, and returned, when Aurek believes the people can be trusted. But if they do anything rash, or rebellious. . . He left the threat unspoken, because he didn’t need to say it aloud. If anyone tries anything against him, the children will suffer. And Aurek doesn’t know the meaning of mercy – he even had nursing babies ripped from their mother’s arms.

  The thing that frightens me the most is that I can’t help but wonder if I gave him the idea, when he saw how much I would do to save Lief and Mama. The power of family first.

  “Say you’re right,” I begin. “Say they are somehow here in Lortune. What do we do?”

  “We find them, and we join them.” He says it so quickly I know he’s been waiting to. Eventually we always come back to this point.

  “I can’t leave,” I remind him. “You know I can’t. Not while Silas is here and not while Aurek has that . . . thing to control me.”

  “He’s going to kill you if you stay, you know that.”

  “Not if I behave myself.”

  Merek raises an eyebrow.

  “Shut up,” I tell him. “I’m trying, at least.”

  “We’re back to square one, then,” Merek says, handing the last of the wine to me. “Waiting. For something.” His mouth is set in a hard line.

  “For Silas.” I try to comfort him. “Sooner or later Aurek will slip up, we’ll find out where Silas is, and then we can all run.” The second I allow myself to think of him it’s like I’ve been punched in the stomach. I wrap my arms around myself, battening down the waves of panic that roll through me. “Perhaps we could tie me up, to stop me from doing anything under his control? I’m sure between the two of you, we could manage.”

  “If we could find another alchemist. . .”

  “Don’t even think of it,” I spit, and Merek falls silent.

  He runs a hand through his hair. “I promised the people safety. The day they crowned me I swore to the land I’d bring them peace and prosperity and freedom. I promised progress. Every day that passes is a day I fail them further. I need to do something.”

  “Go, then.” I fail to keep my voice even. “Go and find her. She needs you.”

  “And leave you here?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to be the reason you believe you’re failing your people. Go.”

  He takes a deep breath and holds his hand out for the goblet.

  “It’s empty,” I say.

  He tuts softly and then sighs, running his hand over his shaven head again. “For the best. Listen, I’m sorry, Errin. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’m just . . . I should be the one coordinating a rebellion. I should be leading this. It’s my responsibility. I’m angry with myself, not you.”

  “It’s fine. But you should go.” I try to smile. “If there’s a revolution happening, then you need to be a part of it.”

  “Do you really think Twylla would forgive me if I left you behind?” He takes a deep breath and stretches. “If I go, then you’re coming with me. When I go, you’re coming with me. You and Silas.”

  I smile. “Agreed.”

  Merek sighs. “I suppose I’d better go. Some of us have to be up at dawn to start scrubbing chamber pots.”

  “The thrilling life of the undercover king.” I say “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “If it’s safe. I’ll come in the afternoon.”

  He reaches out and grips my shoulder, gently squeezing it, then picks up the goblet and leaves. I close my book with a thump, sending dust blooming into the air, coughing as I stand. I’m about to slip it back on to the shelf, when I change my mind and
toss it on to the fuel pile instead. Merek said it was outdated.

  I thumb through some of the other titles, hoping this might be the time I see the book on alchemy that I missed all the other times. Merek’s mother apparently collected everything she could on it, and yet I’ve found nothing in here. Either they were stored somewhere else, or Aurek removed them long ago. I pull out one book on botany and flick through it, but I drop it when the door to the library flies open and Merek stands there, his eyes wide.

  Aurek’s coming for me, I think. I’ve pushed him too far somehow. This is it.

  But I’m wrong.

  “Lief’s returned,” he gasps.

  Chapter 9

  When I get to the Great Hall, my brother is sat in the chair I left just an hour ago, in the midst of pouring himself a glass of wine. His back is to me, and the first thing I notice is that his hair is short, shorter than I’ve ever seen it. It’s roughly done too, as though he cut it himself. He’s clearly come straight here instead of going to clean up; his boots are muddy, there’s horse hair caught in his riding breeches, cold clinging to him from the winter outside.

  He turns slightly at the sound of my knock against the already open door, and I see his profile, as familiar to me as my own face. Then he looks back to Aurek, who is watching me with an amused expression.

  “Errin,” he says. “This is a surprise. Usually I have to summon you. Longing for my company, were you? Missing me terribly?”

  “I. . .” I look at Lief’s back, resolutely turned from me.

  “Or did you somehow sense your brother had returned? He’s barely sat down and yet here you are. I was a twin, so I know about the sibling bond. The mysterious power of it.” He smiles silkily. “That must be it. Because otherwise, the only conclusion I can reach is that you were spying.” The smile drops, leaving his face blank of expression.

  I shake my head rapidly. “I was in the library. A servant saw him arrive and came to tell me.”

  Aurek gives me a long look, and then a slow, silky smile curves his lips. “Fine. I suppose you may join us. Aren’t we all family here, after all? Come, sit down. Share in the news.”

  Throughout this, Lief stays silent and unmoving. The only other chair is on the other side of the table, opposite him, and I feel Aurek watching me, his mouth a smiling trap as I walk around the table.

  When I look over at my brother and I see his face I understand why Aurek is smiling like he’s waiting for the punchline.

  Lief wears a patch over his right eye.

  I gasp. “What happened?” I forget Aurek, forget that I hate my brother. There is a purple scar snaking from beneath the patch like lightning, bisecting his cheek down almost level with his lip. It’s healed badly, pulling the skin tight, so the right side of his face looks on the verge of a sneer. His other eye looks brighter beside it, but not wholly human. He looks . . . feral.

  “Ah-ah.” Aurek holds a hand up. “We’ll get to that. Let’s get the business out of the way first, shall we?”

  “It’s done, Your Grace,” Lief says, his wound giving him a faint lisp, dragging his words into a hiss. He pulls something from his pocket, a bundle in green velvet, and stands, taking it to Aurek, before returning to his seat. I can’t stop staring at him, and his skin flushes, as though he can feel my gaze.

  Aurek opens the package Lief gave him and smiles, placing it on the table so I can see it. I crane my neck and peer inside. I know what it is instantly, even though I’ve never seen it in real life before, only ever seen its mark once or twice.

  Nestled in the cloth is a wooden handle, polished conker-red and smooth, with a large, thick gold disc at its end. I know that on that disc, etched into the metal, is a vast and multi-branched tree, its roots spreading just as far beneath the ground as its canopy does into the sky.

  The Seal of Tregellan: made from the melted crowns of our former royals and forged the morning of their execution to represent the new republic of Tregellan. Now come full circle back to a king’s rule. Every law, edict, bill and mandate passed in the last one hundred years wore this seal, to declare the democratic decision of the Council. My own Apothecary Pledge was stamped with it and sent back to Master Pendie. My Licence to Practice would have been sealed with it too, and hung where I worked so all could see I was Council approved, the seal legitimizing me.

  I realize as I’ve been staring at it that my brother and Aurek have continued talking.

  “. . .Tressalyn is yours now; the rest of Tregellan will fall in line soon after. The terms were more than acceptable to the majority of the Council, and those few who opposed were . . . removed from office,” Lief tells him.

  “And you have the alchemists?” Aurek says.

  “All five. Retrieved and awaiting your pleasure, Your Grace. Their escorts have been dispatched. Two of the Sisters.”

  “And the Sin Eater girl?”

  I hold my breath, hoping – praying – he knows nothing.

  “Conflicting reports indicate she’s in both Penaluna and Scarron, Your Grace.” He taps his fingers on the table. “If I were to guess, though . . . I’d say she fled to Scarron. She’s a creature of habit, and cowardice. She’ll go where she feels safe, where she believes she has sanctuary. Here, she hid in her temple when things didn’t go her way. Out there, it was Scarron she fled to once she left here. She’ll cling to what she knows.”

  Aurek nods. “So you have people on their way there, yes?”

  Lief pauses. “No, Your Grace. I took the liberty of instructing a company to head to Penaluna, and to make their presence known en route.”

  “Why?” Aurek stares at him.

  “Because if rumour reaches her, as I’m sure it will, that she’s being sought there, it’ll be easier for me to approach Scarron and capture her. I plan to leave within the next few days, with your permission. If she’s there, I’ll be back with her a fortnight tonight. My word on it.”

  Aurek laughs, throwing his head back. “Granted, of course. Excellent. Really, really excellent work. You expect her to be alone?”

  Lief nods. “As good as. The price on her head is enough to tempt all but the saintliest into handing her in. And she’s not exactly accomplished at endearing herself to people.”

  Aurek purses his lips. “Hmmm. Yet she has support. You’ve heard of this group – that call themselves the Rising Dawn?”

  I don’t move a muscle, but something in my face must give me away, because Aurek looks to me. “Something you’d like to add, Errin?” he asks. I remain silent.

  “I have,” Lief says, when Aurek turns his attention back to him. “My men in Chargate and Monkham both wrote seeking instructions as soon as the first incidents occurred. I gave orders to increase the patrols and to capture, not kill, anyone they found committing offences.”

  “Not kill?”

  “I can’t extract information from the dead, Your Grace.”

  Aurek smiles again, clearly thrilled with him. Lief, the strategist. He sounds even less like my brother than he did in the bone temple.

  “There was an incident here last night,” Aurek continues. “The Rising Dawn, daubed across the sheriff’s home. Their symbol on the walls. And rats. Live ones. Released into the sheriff’s home.”

  I see the corner of Lief’s good eye twitch. “Here? In Lortune?”

  “Here. I need to know who did it, and how. I worry –” Aurek pauses, frowning “– I worry that perhaps your control over my men isn’t as absolute as we believe. If she is in Scarron, it means there are people here acting as her agents, people with power and access to gates, walls, and so on . . .”

  Lief reaches for his wine. “Your Grace, I can assure you—”

  “I don’t need your assurances, Lief,” Aurek says. “I need to know who in your ranks is a supporter of the Sin Eater bitch and I need their heads on my gates. I don’t hold you responsible for it. Yet. Don’t fail me, my brother.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” my brother says, bowing his head.

  I rela
x somewhat. If Aurek thinks that the dissenters are his own men, he’s unlikely to hurt the children; his supporters are the only ones whose families have been left intact.

  “Good. You’ve done well, my friend. Now, let’s talk about this scar. Will you have some Elixir for it? I could have some brought to you in a matter of moments.” Aurek shoots me a sly glance and my stomach gives a now-familiar twist as my thoughts turn straight to Silas. I don’t make a sound, though. I don’t move a muscle.

  “I’d prefer to keep it, actually. As a reminder not to underestimate the slipperiness of women.”

  “Ahhh, so a woman bested you in a fight.”

  Lief smiles with the left side of his face. “A Sister, Your Grace. To be precise, two Sisters. On the King’s Road, while collecting your alchemists. They’re ugly, but they fight well.”

  “I take it they’re fighting on some other plain now?”

  “What’s left of them, Your Grace.” Lief smiles, and I scowl at him.

  “I’m glad Father never lived to see this,” I say quietly, the words slipping from my mouth before I can pull them back. I don’t risk looking at Aurek, keeping my focus on my brother. But he doesn’t offer me the same courtesy; instead he throws me the briefest of glances, then sips his wine, and the snub is like a slap.

  “Ah.” Aurek claps his hands, the sound startling me. “That reminds me, did you find your mother?”

  “What?” I stare at Lief, reeling once more, though this time I don’t care what Aurek thinks or does. Not in that moment. “Lief?” He raises his glass again, ignoring me, and I lunge out of my chair and reach across the table, smacking it from his hand. “You have Mama? You brought her here?”