The Crimson Crown

by Cinda Williams Chima

  “The clans? Oh, you mean the copperheads?” Crow wrinkled his nose. “Really? They were very…marginal…as I recall.”

  “Marginalized by wizards,” Han said. “They regained power because of the Breaking. They stopped it with earth magic—they’ve always had a closer connection to the natural world than we do. Their price was to rein in the Wizard Council. Hanalea and the Spirit clans hammered out an agreement—what we call the Nǽming. Wizards are no longer in charge.”

  “But they want to be,” Lucius said. “They still want to be, in the worst way.”

  “You haven’t said—how did you come to marry Hana?” Crow asked him. “Why didn’t she marry Kinley?”

  “Hanalea despised Kinley Bayar,” Lucius said. “Though she blamed herself for your death, she knew that Bayar was really the one responsible. And she knew she was expecting your child. She realized that Bayar would never allow Waterlow offspring to live, and she was determined to save her child—children, as it turned out. I’d been your best friend, and she did not know what I’d done to you. So she came to me and asked me to kill Kinley Bayar.”

  “Hana did that?” Crow said.

  Lucius nodded. “She was strong—stronger than anybody knew. I immediately agreed, on one condition—that she marry me. I would raise your child as my own and protect her secret. The best part was, if I killed Kinley, Hanalea need never know the truth.”

  “But—you were no longer gifted,” Crow said. “How did you manage it?”

  “It wasn’t all that hard. Wizards tend to overfocus on magical attacks. Kinley wasn’t thinking about poison at all.” Lucius shook his head regretfully. “It was too easy a death, but I had to make it seem natural. The clans made great poisons even in those days.

  “So. Hanalea and the clans stopped the Breaking. She didn’t know about the amulet, and she didn’t know that you were not the cause. The Bayars were in charge of that history, and all of the blame was laid on you. I never defended you.

  “Still, it seemed like I had everything I’d ever dreamed of—I was married to Hanalea, and I was rich, and I knew I would live forever. Even if Hanalea suspected me, she’d never confront me, because I knew a terrible secret—who the father of her children really was.

  “After the babies were born, she doted on them. They were all she had left of you, Alger. She never loved me. And I was the outsider once again.”

  Lucius heaved a great sigh, as if releasing the last of his demons. “I betrayed you and Hanalea one more time. I told the copperheads who the father of Alister and Alyssa really was.”

  Crow blazed up again. The heat of him scorched Han’s skin, and he shaded his eyes against the glare. “You claim you loved Hana? Then how could you do such a despicable thing?”

  Lucius cringed. “I thought if the children were taken away from her, she’d forget about you, and them, and we could have our own family. But I was wrong.” Tears pooled in Lucius’s eyes. “Hanalea swore she’d kill herself if your children were harmed. She swore she’d never have another child, by me or anybody else. She would start a civil war that would destroy what was left of the Seven Realms. She never wavered, and the clans believed her. I believed her.”

  “So—Hana loved me,” Crow said, with a kind of melancholy wonder. “She really did.”

  “She really did,” Lucius said. “And the clans finally agreed that Alyssa would be heir to the Gray Wolf throne. Alister would be taken away, but would be well cared for. Everyone would continue to pretend that Alyssa was my child.

  “Hanalea never forgave me. She never accepted me into her bed again.” Lucius looked up at Crow. “There’s no way I can make up for everything I took from you and Hanalea. There’s no way to undo what’s been done—to give you your life back. All I can tell you is that I have suffered for what I’ve done—more than you can imagine.”

  “Oh, I think I can imagine it,” Crow said. He stood and paced back and forth. These revelations seemed to rock him harder than anything that had gone before. “I’ve been locked up in an amulet for a thousand years, with no way to escape, thinking I was betrayed by the woman I loved. And now that I know the truth, there’s no way to get those years back.”

  “Hanalea never, ever stopped loving you,” Lucius said. “She loved you and your children until she died. Even Alister—she always looked after him. She would go to see him, in disguise. She made sure he had teachers and books. It was only after she died that the Alister line was allowed to…ah…decline.”

  “And you did nothing,” Crow said, his voice tempered steel.

  “The clans tracked the Alisters—I didn’t. I spent years trying to drink myself to death, but your charms always were unbreakable.” Lucius laughed harshly. “I finally moved up here on Hanalea, thinking I could just disappear, and then one day the boy came knocking on my door, asking if I need anything from town, or had anything to carry down. I knew he was yours when he mentioned the cuffs. He was trying to find someone who could remove them.”

  “Cuffs?” Crow repeated, looking from Lucius to Han. “What do you mean?”

  Han raised his hands, displaying his wrists. “The clans cuffed your gifted descendants to keep us from making mischief. It was part of Hanalea’s bargain.”

  Lucius nodded. “So here he was—and every time he opened his mouth, I heard your voice, even with that Ragmarket cant, even after all that lowborn blood mixing in over the years.

  “And I thought—maybe there was this little thing I could do. So I gave him a job. Though I couldn’t read anymore, I bought him books and paid him to read to me, and he cut right through them like he was made for learning. And I thought he could rise in the world. When he took your amulet back from the Bayars, I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. But I knew then that things were going to change. And they did, for better or worse.”

  Lucius knew all this and he’d never told me, Han thought bitterly. How many tragedies could have been averted—beginning with Mama and Mari—if I hadn’t been traveling blind. He let me blunder along, while he drank and schemed and kept his secrets to himself.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Han demanded.

  “I was ashamed,” Lucius said, ducking his head. “I was just an old drunk, but you always treated me with respect. You were loyal to a fault—the most honest thief I ever knew. You were the closest thing I had to a friend in a long time. And I was too weak to give that up.”

  “Well, you’re consistent, anyway,” Han muttered. “Consistent in the way you treat your friends.”

  “No argument there.” Lucius turned back to Crow. “If there’s nothing else, then could you do what you promised? Could you let me go?”

  “Why should I give you what you want?” Crow said. “You ruined my life. You took everything from me that I care about. What, exactly, do I owe you now?”

  “Nothing,” Lucius said. “Nothing at all. But I have hopes that you are still the Alger I knew. And that Alger would put me out of my misery.”

  “No,” Crow said. “That Alger was a fool who trusted his friends. I think you need another thousand years to think about it.”

  “Wait,” Han said.

  Crow and Lucius swung around to look at him.

  “They only win if they change you,” Han said.

  “What?” Crow’s eyes narrowed.

  “For a thousand years, they’ve tried to make you into a demon,” Han said.

  “Successfully, it seems,” Crow said.

  “No.” Han shook his head. “Not unless you go along with it. It’s not about what people think. It’s about who you are.”

  “Who do you think you are?” Crow said. He jerked a thumb at Lucius. “Why would you stand up for him?”

  “Because keeping him miserable doesn’t make my life any better,” Han said. “Even if it did, I don’t know that I’d make that trade.”

  “Well, maybe I would,” Crow growled.

  “I don’t think so,” Han said.

  Han and Crow stood for a long moment
, eye-to-eye and toe-to-toe, with a thousand years of blood and history between them.

  Crow’s obstinate expression gradually softened into a smile. He reached out, and his fingertips brushed Han’s cheek. “I would need your help to break the charm,” he said. “As you know, I haven’t any flash of my own.”

  “I know,” Han said, looking at Lucius. It’s not like I’m killing him, he told himself. Not really.

  “If you let me into your head, I can be the one to cast the charm,” Crow said. “That way, you wouldn’t have to do it yourself. But—maybe you don’t want to risk that?” Embarrassment stained his cheeks.

  If Alger Waterlow can take pity on Lucas Fraser after all he’s done, Han thought, then maybe I can trust him, too.

  “I think it’s only fitting that you cast the charm that puts Lucas to rest,” Han said. “Let’s cross back over and do it together.”

  He took Lucius’s hands and spoke the charm, then opened his eyes to the dim interior of the distillery, sun easing through the cracks in the roof and walls. Across from him, Lucius opened his eyes and smiled.

  They walked out into the sunlight. Dog butted his head against the old man’s legs, and Han gripped his arm when he would have stumbled.

  They sat down on the bank of Old Woman Creek, where they’d sat so many times before. Dog lay down at their feet, panting. Han took hold of the amulet that had once belonged to Crow—the one he’d taken refuge in so many years ago.

  Lucius sat waiting, as if expecting a gift.

  Han licked his lips. “Are you there, Alger?”

  I’m here, Crow said, in Han’s head.

  Han dropped his mental barriers and felt Crow easing into place, as if reoccupying familiar ground.

  Extending his hand toward Lucius, Han spoke a charm he’d never heard before.

  Power rippled between them as the channels opened. Brilliance enveloped Lucius Frowsley—lighting him up like one of the paintings of saints in the cathedral temple. The old man’s familiar exterior seemed to burn away—the tangle of wiry gray hair, the yellow-gray skin of his face stubbled over with beard. The brilliance faded, revealing the younger Lucius, an eager smile on his face as he looked toward the heavens.

  And then the image shattered, silvering into dust, dissipating in the wind that rushed down over Hanalea. It glittered for a moment in the dying sun, and then was gone.

  Dog whined and pressed himself against Han’s knees.

  “Lucius?” Han said uncertainly. It took him a moment to realize that he’d spoken aloud. He was back in control of his voice. “Crow?” he said. And then, louder, “Crow, are you still here?”

  I told you to call me Alger, Crow said in his ear. And then he was gone.

  C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - S I X

  PROOFS AND

  ALLEGATIONS

  Raisa paced back and forth across her sitting room.

  “You are as jumpy as a cat on a wood stove,” Cat said, looking up from her basilka.

  “If Han Alister works for me, then where is he?” Raisa grumbled.

  “He is working for you,” Cat countered. “He’s just not working for you here.”

  “He said he had business on Hanalea,” Raisa said. “What could he be doing up there? He’s a wizard. He’s not even allowed on Hanalea.”

  “Where he’s allowed and where he goes don’t always match up,” Cat said.

  “I’m lucky if I see him one day out of three.”

  Han had disappeared the day after the Ragmarket fire, and Raisa hadn’t seen him since. She needed to talk to him, to tell him about Micah’s accusations, to figure out some kind of a response.

  “Would you be honest with me if I asked you a question?” Raisa asked.

  Cat eyed Raisa over her fretboard. She’d been trying to transcribe a song she’d composed into written form. She had ink on the end of her nose and smeared all over her fingers. “I’m not saying I’ll answer, but if I do, I’ll tell you the truth.”

  Raisa sat down across from Cat, fingering her wolf ring. “Why does he stay? I know he made a bargain with the clans, but that doesn’t mean he has to keep it. He could go wherever he wants, and he’d never lack for money, being gifted. What does he really want?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Cat said. “That one plays his cards close. But if I had to take a guess, I’d say what he wants is you.”

  “Me?” Raisa stared at Cat. “What for?”

  Cat squinted at her. “Maybe we should have us a little talk,” she said, arching her brows.

  “But I’ve scarcely seen him since the coronation,” Raisa said. “He seems so distant sometimes. And we haven’t really…I mean…he hasn’t shown any…even when I…” Cheeks burning, Raisa gave up.

  “I never saw a streetlord like Cuffs for strategy,” Cat said, setting aside her basilka. “For being willing to look toward the future and wait for what he wants. That’s why he was so good at it. Everybody else, sooner or later, would rush into trouble without a plan. And Cuffs would be waiting.” Cat crinkled her brow. “Jemson used to talk about that. He’d call it…ah…deferred gratification, though I don’t think he exactly had street wars in mind.”

  “If he has a plan, he hasn’t shared it with me,” Raisa muttered.

  “He hasn’t shared it with me, either,” Cat said, flexing her fingers. “Cuffs is good at keeping secrets. Even when we were partners, we really weren’t. I never knew what he would do next. He doesn’t really trust anybody. That’s how he stayed alive.”

  “But…How do I put this—” Raisa couldn’t figure out how to say, Even when I make the first move, he turns me down.

  But Cat understood where she was going. “He’s the one steps away, right?” she said. “He knows this is dangerous turf—for both of you. He won’t make his move until he knows he can win it all.”

  “But what if that never happens?” Raisa said.

  “He won’t settle,” Cat said. “He’ll wait forever if need be.”

  Forever, Raisa thought. I don’t have forever. One of us is going to get killed.

  A knock came at the door. No, more like an urgent pounding.

  Don’t answer it, Raisa wanted to say. Sounds like trouble.

  But Cat put her basilka aside and crossed to the door. “Who is it?” she asked through the wood.

  Amon’s voice came back. “It’s Captain Byrne. I need to speak with the queen. It’s important.”

  Cat looked at Raisa.

  “Let him in, of course,” Raisa said testily. “He wouldn’t be here at this time of night if it weren’t important.”

  Cat opened the door, and Amon stood framed in the doorway. Behind him cowered a small, wiry boy in scruffy clothes. And behind him stood Pearlie Greenholt and three other guards.

  Amon looked grim and unhappy, like he was on official business—business that he dreaded. Raisa was already sorry she’d let him in.

  “Flinn!” Cat blurted, over Raisa’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

  Flinn’s eyes widened when he saw Cat. He took a step back, turning as if to flee, but Amon caught hold of his arm and held him fast.

  Flinn. Why was that name familiar? Where had Raisa seen him before?

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Cat growled at Flinn. “You was told not to show your face up here in the close.”

  “Your Majesty, we need to speak with you in private about a sensitive matter,” Amon said. “Perhaps you should hear us out, and then decide who should be privy to the information.” He didn’t look at Cat, but it was obvious who he meant. Raisa knew that this was about Han.

  “Caterina, could you please excuse us?” Raisa said, nodding toward the inside door. “You can go on to bed if you like. I’ll be in soon.”

  Cat got off half a curtsy, threw Flinn a narrow-eyed glare, slouched to the door, and pulled it shut behind her.

  “Corporal.” Amon tilted his head toward the bedchamber door, and Pearlie went and stood in front of it.

  “I should’na
come,” Flinn muttered, setting his feet and trying to pull away from Amon.

  “No one’s going to hurt you,” Amon said, drawing Flinn into the corner farthest from the door to the bedchamber. “Her Majesty needs to hear what you have to say.” He pointed to the window ledge. “Sit.”

  Flinn obeyed, shaking so hard his teeth rattled.

  Raisa sat next to him on the ledge. Though her heart clenched painfully in her chest, she felt the need to reassure him. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “Just tell the truth.”

  When Flinn said nothing, Amon spoke. “Tell the queen why you came to me. Just start at the beginning.”

  “Y—Your Eminence.” Flinn spoke into his lap, so that Raisa had to lean toward him to hear. “I used to was in Cuffs Alister’s crew, the Raggers. And after he left, I was with Cat Tyburn.” He stole a quick look at the door to the bedchamber.

  Now it came back to Raisa—where she’d heard his name before.

  “But…but you’re dead!” she blurted. That’s what Han had told her—that the Raggers she’d rescued from Southbridge Guardhouse had been murdered.

  “I would be dead, but I left town until they quit killing Raggers.”

  “How long have you been back?” Raisa asked, wondering if Han knew.

  “I came back right after Cuffs did. Since then, I been working for him. I been his eyes and ears down in Ragmarket, done a little slide-hand and second-story work. Put the tail on those he wanted followed.”

  Flinn eyed Amon furtively, as if worried he was incriminating himself. “I wanted…I wanted to get back at the demons—the jinxflingers—that murdered my friends last year. An I thought working for Cuffs would be a way. I thought we was on the same side. Until the other night. At the Smiling Dog.”

  “What happened at the Smiling Dog?” Amon prompted.

  “Cuffs, he had me fetch Lord Bayar’s girlie. The tall scary one with the white hair. First he had me drag her all over Ragmarket and Southbridge to shake any footpads. Me, I thought it was a setup. I thought he meant to do her like he done the others.”

  “What do you mean, like the others?” Raisa asked.