by Levi Jacobs
Her senses swelled too—Marea’s scream cutting through the dying roar of battle, the copper stink of blood and sweat on the air, the lawkeeper’s panic-driven grip on her arm lessening as he turned, searching for some new threat.
Ella struck resonance. She had no idea how much of her strength she had regained, but there would be no better chance than this. Time slowed. She jerked from the man’s grasp, pushing through the crowd of white-coated men and bloodied fighters. The woman in jade and silver was four paces away, slowed with all the rest of them through the force of Ella’s slip.
Slowed in the act of looking from Marea to Ella. Which meant she knew they were connected, had seen Marea thrall the revenant to Ella. And now that Marea was out of the picture, the shaman had time to stop Ella.
Ella pushed harder, cursing the heightened inertia of bodies in slip. It was like trying to run through the scattered crevices between boulders, squeezing here and ducking there. She needed to reach the woman to kill her, but the shaman needed only to throw a revenant at her to end the threat.
It came down to her speed versus the other woman’s skill, with Marea’s life in the balance.
Ella burst through the narrow opening between a woman frozen in a defiant shout and a snarling lawkeeper, and pulled a long pin from her braids. It wasn’t made for stabbing, but it would do the trick. Ella dashed forward. She could see the revenant coming now, descending on her faster than any human could move.
But still too slow. Ella rammed the pin behind the woman’s ear, then turned to make her escape. The revenant hit, not hard enough to lay her out but eating her uai in a flash. The shaman fell, gouting blood, and the world slurred back into motion.
36
Marea ripped the revenant free to find a circle of concerned white coats around her where she lay on the floor.
“Are you alright, miss?” one of them called, reaching down to her.
She seized the man’s arm and pulled herself up. “Fine,” she said, straining to see between the shoulders of the men surrounding her. If she was awake, the revenant must have thralled and Ella taken care of the other shaman. But if the other shaman had followed the exchange—
Marea’s stomach lurched. There was Ella, bloody hairpin in hand, surrounded by a knot of shouting lawkeepers. At her feet lay the dying shaman, blood pooling under her pale hair. Currents. Ella had saved her only to expose herself. Twice. However they had last parted, Marea couldn’t let that sail.
“Miss?” the lawkeeper again called over the noise. “Are you okay?”
She turned to him, glancing at the sea of white-coats around her. There was no way Ella was leaving with all these whitecoats around, and only one way she could see to get rid of them. It wasn’t pretty. But nothing had been today.
“I’m fine!” Marea said, turning to the lawkeeper. “And I’m sorry.”
She slammed a revenant into him. The man fell screaming, and she slammed two more into the surrounding men, ripping the ghost from one to stick it on the next. Marea summoned more arms as people began to turn from Ella’s murder scene to see what the screaming was about.
She ignored them, right arms ripping revenants from white coats as left arms took them and slammed them into new targets. This would never work with other shamans present, but the other shamans were dead.
A circle of screaming, falling people widened around her. Marea hit the lawkeepers’ captives too—no telling whose side they would be on—then focused a path toward where the men swarmed over Ella.
Fear swept the room again as the people still standing realized something new was happening and lurched away from it like a Brider plague. Marea grinned, upping her pace as the lawkeepers holding Ella vacillated between keeping her captive and running for their lives.
If only she’d had this power at Aran. If only she’d had it when her parents died.
She struck the men holding Ella and ran over. “Ella! Ella come on, we have to go!”
Ella stared at the mass of screaming, floor-bound bodies. “What are you doing?”
“Nevermind, we need to go!”
Marea turned and cleared a path through the crush of people toward the nearest servant’s exit, cheeks flush with power, whitecoats and nobles falling like cut barley before her attacks. To the left and right people again lurched away, lawkeepers forgetting captives in their need to get away.
They threaded their way over the thrashing bodies, Ella’s face grey beside her, entrance to the servant’s stairs finally opening at the far end. By then cries of “Merewil!” and “The Runaway Knife!” were sounding around them.
Of course—no one could see what she was doing. But they had seen Ella appear beside a woman suddenly gouting blood.
They ran the last few paces, a second surge of lawkeepers trying to get at them as the others pushed away. Remembering herself at the last second, Marea stopped.
“What are you doing?” Ella shouted from the stairs. “Let’s go!”
“I’ll catch up.” Marea turned back to the ruined terrace and cracked her knuckles. She still had revenants to thrall.
37
Ella took the stairs three at a time, heart pounding, mind a whirl as she tried to sort out what had happened.
Merewil. The crowd back there had been shouting Merewil. And they’d seen her next to the shaman’s corpse.
With a start Ella realized the bloody hairpin was still in her hand and flung it away, but there was blood on her hands and more spattered across her fine gown. Well. That at least might look normal for people fleeing the scene—the entire thing had been chaos. A knot of panicked nobles crowded the bottom of the long stair ahead of her and Ella slowed, trying to compose herself.
She glanced back—Marea was catching up, a giddy grin on her face. Had the girl lost her mind? Behind her, whitecoats were already beginning to look down the stair. How long before they overcame their fear of what Marea had done and gave chase?
“Hey,” Marea said, catching up. “You okay?”
“For the moment,” Ella said, still watching the whitecoats. “But the way down is blocked.”
Marea glanced down and snorted. “I’ve got this.”
“Marea,” Ella hissed, trying to keep the nobles below from overhearing. “You can’t keep laying them out like that. People will figure out it’s you sooner or later.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” the girl said, that grin on her face. She pushed past Ella, taking her hand. “Ready?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Just trust me.”
Ella was still trying to figure out if she did when Marea’s resonance struck, the whine in Ella’s bones ten times stronger than she’d ever felt it. Then Marea pulled her through the impassable knot of fleeing nobles, this one stumbling at just the right time, that one leaning aside, the other being pulled into a hug, over and over, creating a path for them down the clogged section of stair.
Ella swallowed. This was what fatewalking did, but a string of coincidences this long should be nearly impossible. How much uai did Marea have?
They broke through the bottom, black-clad Downs men magically parting to let them by even as they pushed against the other patrons. Marea pulled her through the outdoor cooking area, servants again magically parting around them, and out the door at the far end.
The street beyond was blessedly empty, though screams echoed from the terraces above.
Ella drew a deep breath. “What did you do?”
Marea turned to her, eyes alight, still grinning. “What do you mean? I attacked them with revenants, like Nauro showed us way back when.”
“But that was one. You—”
“Used a bunch more at once?” Marea shrugged. “Same principle. Uhallen just showed me how to use more.”
They turned toward the nearest docks, Ella scrubbing at the blood on her hands. “And getting us down the stairs? I’ve never seen you fatewalk like that before.”
Marea grinned bigger. “Well you’ve never seen me ri
ght after thralling six revenants either.”
Six! Ella had felt a rush after Marea thralled one to her. Six at once would be like the power of overcoming a revenant. Except permanent.
Ella pulled her jacket off and scrubbed at her bloody hands while they walked. “Is that why you were there? To take those shaman’s thralls?”
“Yes. I wasn’t going to do it if they didn’t kill someone, but they did, so…” She grinned, obviously still high on her new power.
They turned onto a wider avenue. A few whitecoats rushed up the hill toward the Downs, but fortunately enough harried-looking soiree-goers were headed in the other direction that she and Marea didn’t stand out, even with bloody clothes.
“So you knew they’d be there?” Ella asked. Even Praet and Arten had seemed surprised. “Did Uhallen send you?”
“He didn’t send me,” Marea said, back going straight. “He offered this as a chance to get more thralls quickly, and maybe do some good at the same time. I need more thralls to cure Rena and I decided it was worth it. Why were you there? Chasing your archrevenant?”
“Yes,” Ella said quietly, glancing around. Everyone around was absorbed in their own drama, but still she kept her voice low. “I think I found him.”
“So Uhallen gave you good information.” Marea sounded defensive.
“He may have. But I imagine he had his own reasons for doing it.”
“What are you saying?”
Ella sighed. “I’m saying you almost died multiple times back there. That this is all happening too fast, and Uhallen sent you on a mission you weren’t ready for.”
“He couldn’t have known there’d be two of them,” Marea said, eyes locked ahead. “And in case you didn’t notice, you almost died too, Ella. Would have, if I hadn’t saved you.”
“No, I wouldn’t have, actually. I was on the fourth terrace. I was fine. I came up because I saw you were in trouble.”
“So what, I’m supposed to thank you now?” Marea’s pace quickened, eyes locked ahead. “Then thank you. But I don’t need your help, okay? I would have handled that.”
“I’m not saying you wouldn’t have,” Ella said, holding up her hands.
“Then what are you saying?”
Ella searched for the right words. Marea was touchy, but better to give it to her straight and lose a friend than mince words and see Marea end up hurt. “I’m saying I don’t think Uhallen has your best interests in mind. He’s not stupid. He had to know there was a possibility there’d be more than one shaman here, or someone beyond your abilities. And he sent you anyway.”
“Because he trusts me. He believes in my abilities. Unlike you.”
“I believe in them too,” Ella snapped, anger getting the better of her. “I actually care about you, is the difference. I don’t want to see you dead taking stupid risks.”
“So you are saying I can’t handle it. Meanwhile I don’t see you backing down from trying to kill a staining archrevenant.” Marea scowled. “What happened to you, Ella? You weren’t like this in the caves.”
“Like what?”
“Like my mecking mother. Treating me like I’m some kind of child.”
“I’m just worried about you.”
“Well I don’t need your worry, okay?” Marea said, turning away. “I’ll be fine.”
“Marea wait!” Ella reached for her, chest heaving with anger and concern.
Marea jerked her arm free and the crowd swallowed her whole.
38
At the end of all major waterways, Worldsmouth was a natural bridge between continental trade and the prized imports of the Brineriders. Though they yet keep a stranglehold on deep-sea commerce, the Brider’s deep-hulled ships and the delta’s shallow channels keep them from making inroads on the continent. From this fertile ground rose the rich merchant class that ultimately spelled the end of the Yersh monarchy.
—Telen Fostler, Empire Reconsidered
Marea stalked halfway to The Racks before she noticed the looks people were giving her. No wonder—she was spattered in blood and her face hurt from scowling.
She ducked under a bridge and pulled her dress off, scrubbing at it like it was Ella’s face. The nerve of the woman, to tell her she was getting in over her head when Marea had literally just saved them both from arrest, not to mention stopped two shamans and probably saved House Fenril from losing its Council seat.
“In over my head?” Marea growled, thrusting the dress into the tepid water and pulling it out to scrub some more. “And you’re trying to kill a mecking archrevenant?”
Marea knew why, of course. She wasn’t stupid. Because Uhallen was the one who was teaching her shamanism, and Uhallen was a shaman, and Avery had been a shaman and they both knew how that had turned out. But she was being careful. And Ella herself had said there was no way Uhallen could be the archrevenant. So what if he was mixed up with Nawhin and Eyadin and the archrevenant’s plans? He’d been good to Marea in a city where literally no one else had. Including her best friend.
Marea shoved the dress underwater and scrubbed harder. Probably difficult for Ella to understand. She’d just killed her brother and ran away. Not much trying to make good on it there.
Marea sighed, pulling her dress out of the water again and realizing the stains weren’t going to come out. And that she’d practically ripped the thread from the seams in her anger, and she was crouching in her petticoat under a bridge in The Racks like some kind of Brokewater thief. And she was exhausted, despite the power of six new thralls vibrating through her. She had almost died back there.
So she probably should be grateful to Ellumia, no matter how the woman talked.
Marea wrung the dress out over her forearm, like the women in Ayugen had taught her to do. She should be happy. Should be overflowing with excitement—not only did she have the power she needed to cure Rena now, but she’d taken down two full shamans. She was doing this. And whether or not Ella liked her or the Mattoy deal came through or Nawhin or Rena ever forgave her for killing Eyadin, she could at least fend for herself in the future.
Marea pulled it on, damp fabric a welcome moment of cool in the afternoon’s heat, even if it smelled of brackish water. She shivered, remembering the widening circle of lawkeepers around her. Remembering the rush of thralling both shamans’ revenants, and the way the crowd at the bottom of the stairs had parted for her resonance like rendered fat to a knife. Currents take what Ella thought. What anyone thought. She had the power to do what she needed to now.
Starting with Rena.
Marea climbed up from under the bridge and strode the rest of the way to Rena’s house, putting Ella and the rest of it out of her mind. This was a day for celebration. A day when she saved a life to balance the innocent one she’d taken.
I do need my share of those revenants, when you get a chance, came a familiar voice in her head.
Marea started. “Oh, ah,” she said out loud, before remembering she didn’t need to. Yes. Planning to get them to you, I just wanted to use all of them this afternoon on Rena, if that’s okay.
Take your time. You know where to find me.
The chimes were pulled up tight against the wall when she got there—Rena’s sign that her mother was out and it was safe to come in. Marea pushed in, finally starting to feel better, to get excited. She was going to heal her friend.
“Rena?” she called.
A moan sounded from the back bedroom.
Thank the currents—she was still alive. Marea had come most days since the afternoon they’d first really talked, and every time Rena looked worse, going from sallow-skinned to bed-bound to barely verbal. Every time she wondered if she was going to be too late. If she was going to find a body instead of her friend.
But Rena’s eyes were still bright when Marea opened the door to the dim bedroom. The room smelled of cheap incense, and under it the ranker scents of urine and decay.
“Marea,” she croaked. “Loper.”
This was the name Rena had c
hosen for her, after the character in Hestin’s broadsheets, because Rena thought Marea was an adventurer like Loper. It had never really felt right—what Marea had been through didn’t feel like an adventure, even if it might sound that way—but today it fit.
“Loper,” she agreed. “Do you remember that thing I told you I was working on?”
“The… cure thing?” Rena managed. Marea hadn’t told her many details of what she was learning from Uhallen, but she hadn’t been able to hold back saying that it might lead to a cure. Praise the currents she’d actually pulled it off before the fever took her friend.
“The cure thing,” Marea said, kneeling by Rena’s bed, trying to remember how she’d seen Avery do it. It didn’t matter ultimately—all she needed was uai and belief. Uai she had, now, and belief wasn’t a problem either. Uhallen had said she could, and the man had no reason to lie.
So Marea formed an image in her head, like she would if she were trying to fatewalk a cure. Imagined the Rena she’d never known, hair lush and skin glowing and cheeks full, springing up from her bed like she’d laid down for a nap and slept too long. Laughing. Healthy. Cured.
Imagined it and struck resonance, a resonance that was now broader and deeper than it had ever been, like a wind chime turned into a barge’s gong.
Rena gasped. Marea’s eyes snapped open to find her friend arching out of the bed, eyes wide, every muscle in her body rigid.
And healing. The skin tightened across her arms, her sallow cheeks filled out, and her wheezing gasp vanished in a deep lungful of air.
It came out as a shout. Not a phrase or a word or even a language Marea recognized, just an animal shout of joy. Marea shouted too, shooting to her feet. The slab of guilt she’d carried between her shoulders was gone. Her whole body felt light.
Rena dropped back onto the bed. She bounced up to a seat and sucked in a breath, looking at her arms in wonder. “What did you do,” she asked, tears streaming down her face. Even her voice was richer, the voice of a healthy young woman.
