Phoenix Rising

by Rebecca Harwell

  Chapter Five

  The next morning her father had his Guard duties to attend to, so Nadya meditated on her own. A loud rap on the door knocked her out of her breathing. Nadya blinked.

  “Nadya, are you here?”

  Kesali’s voice.

  She scrambled to her feet as Kesali entered. She once again wore inconspicuous clothing, a simple tunic and trousers, though it was made of the richest brown cloth.

  “Good morning…um, hi. Do you want some breakfast?” Kesali threw her a roll.

  Nadya caught it and breathed in the scent of fresh-baked bread dotted with cinnamon almonds. “Thank you.”

  “Thought you might want a break from the rations. We’re rationed at the palace as well, but many of the courtiers would start a civil war if their special favorites were taken away, so the Duke makes some allowances. Anyway, do you want to go on an adventure?”

  “Without your guardsmen, I see.” Or your betrothed.

  Nadya bit into the roll. It melted against her tongue, and she nearly forgave Kesali for endangering herself, coming down here without her guard detail.

  “They have better things to do than babysit me. I know these tiers like I know the skies. No matter how long I live in the palace, down here will always be my home.” She grabbed Nadya’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Nadya did not budge. “Where are we going?”

  “Fine. To the hospital. They are overworked and understaffed, and no one will let me help out when I ask, so I am just going to go by myself. With you, if you’ll come, but I am going.”

  “Is going to a place crawling with fever the best thing for you to do?” Nadya asked, knowing that the point was moot. She had made up her mind, and there would be no changing it. Kesali was lucky that Nadya found her stubborn nature endearing.

  “The scouring sickness is caught through tainted water, not shared breath.” Kesali frowned. “Besides, is staying holed up in the palace the best use of my time? Or fair to the people? This is not the time of floodwaters. There are no riots in the streets, and besides, with you I will be more than safe.”

  She was glad to hear Kesali put trust in her like that, but Nadya pretended to be stern. “All right. But do not go wandering off.” She channeled her grandmother, and both giggled.

  Kesali beamed. “It’ll be just like old times.”

  “Yes,” Nadya whispered, instantly somber. They both knew the old times could not be brought back.

  The city’s hospital lay deep in the third tier, a large marble building that took up a block. Before its harsh edges and monochromatic windows came into view, Nadya smelled the hospital’s stomach-wrenching stench. Blood, vomit, waste, salt, and the horribly cloying odor that ran underneath it all: decay. People lined up against one side of the street, over a hundred by her eyes. They stood coughing, wheezing, their bloodshot eyes watching all who were brave enough to walk this stretch of road. Hands and arms bore the scars of the scouring sickness: gray blotches, once healthy skin turned putrid. Nadya swallowed hard to keep from retching. This was a place of death, disease just as deadly as the floodwaters.

  Kesali led her up past the line to the front doors. They were heavy iron, with bars that could be dropped on the inside in case someone decided they did not wish to wait their turn. In normal times, the hospital charged a small fee, what each person could afford; however, now with coin being all but worthless, they took in as many of the sick as they could, turning away an equal number to die in their homes rather than the hospital wards.

  Standing in front of the door was the warden, a tall, formidable Erevan woman with gray hair done back in a smart bun. She glared down at the two of them. “You aren’t ill, so what’s your business here?”

  “I am Kesali Stormspeaker. This is my friend, Nadya. We have come to help. We wish to lend our hands to the sick and ailing of the city.” It sounded like she had rehearsed her words several times on the journey here.

  “Really? On whose authority?”

  “Mine.”

  “Your Ladyship, I cannot allow you or your companion admittance,” she said. “This place seethes with sickness, and I will not be responsible for the death of the heir’s betrothed.”

  “I command you to let us in.” Nadya looked at Kesali, surprised. Her tone brooked no argument, and she stared at the warden with level eyes. “The Duke’s physician continues to tell the council that you are short-staffed. I have training, so does my friend. Do not turn away the help you so sorely need.”

  The older woman shook her head. “No.”

  “But I command—”

  “I understand you are new to ways of the palace.” Nadya bristled. Was this Erevan woman denying them based on their Nomori heritage, despite Kesali’s title? Her budding anger must have showed in her face, for the warden half-smiled. “Do you know the only person in this city who can give a command to the Duke that he must obey? His physician. Health and safety come first, before titles and commands. Forgive me, your Ladyship, but your request is denied.”

  Kesali’s mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish. “All right,” she finally managed. “Good day.”

  “Good day,” the warden said with a nod.

  “Oi, I know you. Lemme go, I know ’er!”

  Nadya stopped. She turned to see a small boy wrestling with his carekeeper, a nurse who could not possibly be paid in enough coin, gems, or rations for what her day entailed. The child raised his head, and Nadya saw it was Puck, the Erevan boy she had accidentally rescued just the day before.

  Puck slithered out from the nurse’s grasp and ran over to them. “You sick? That why you’re here?”

  “Will you be disappointed if I say no?” Nadya smiled in spite of herself. He looked much the same, except that his sores were neatly bandaged, the scent of fresh herbs emanating from their poultices.

  “Maybe. S’boring here. You’re interesting, even for a fishface.”

  “All right,” Kesali cut in at the slur. “You know this child, Nadya?”

  “Sort of. We met yesterday at the well I was telling you about.”

  “She caught a bullet!”

  Kesali’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh.”

  “It didn’t happen like that,” Nadya said quickly. “It is good to see you, Puck, but should you not be in the hospital? You won’t get better running around like this.”

  Chances were he wouldn’t get better at all.

  “Just wanted some air. It’s awful in there. Stuffy and dull.” Puck smiled. “Just a quick walk, you know.”

  “Well, you’ve walked. You really should listen to them,” Kesali said. “Many people would give up everything to get the care you’re receiving. Time to get back to your bed.”

  Puck crossed his arms. “Make me.”

  “I will not, but I can assure you that the hospital warden will,” Kesali said, nodding to where the tall woman stood, watching them with an amused expression.

  Puck’s face lost what little color it had. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” He glanced up at Nadya. “See you again?”

  “Yes.” She tried to sound confident.

  He smiled, and her heart pulled at her breath. “It’s a promise!” Puck stuck his tongue out at Kesali before skipping back to the warden and his nurse, who ushered him inside with more than a few stern words.

  “He will die soon,” Kesali said, staring after them. “Children never survive the scouring sickness long.” Her voice turned harsh. “Which is why I don’t know why that warden can turn us away. They need help. We can give it to them. It’s that simple.”

  Nadya bit her lip. Kesali was right by all accounts, but her blunt observation still hurt. She hardly knew the boy. But she had saved him from the Cressian soldiers. Now she only wished she could save him from this. “I do not think it is.”

  “Why, because I am a fragile little flower that needs constant protection? I may not be you, but I know my worth and my capability. I attended the same lessons in the healing arts from Drina that you did, an
d I did not fall asleep in the middle of them.”

  “I did, didn’t I? But that is not the point. You are not fragile…” Nadya searched for the words that would comfort her. “You’re important. You are worth more to the city than as a nurse. If you are lost”—Protectress forbid—“then we lose more than a Nomori girl. More than the Stormspeaker. More than the one-day Duchess. We lose our hope. Children like Puck lose everything they have to hold on to. The warden was right, and if you had listened to me in the first place…”

  “I am not a beacon of light for the city to follow. I never asked to be that,” Kesali said, quieting down. “I do not think the city would react in such a way.”

  “Maybe not the whole city. Maybe just some of us.” Nadya paused, pulse thrumming under her skin, suddenly an all-too-thin barrier to keep her feelings at bay. She put a soft hand on Kesali’s arm. “I would.”

  Kesali looked at her and smiled. She covered Nadya’s hand with her own, and Nadya took a deep breath, focusing on Kesali’s touch, every line in her palm, every callous on her fingertips, in order to calm herself. “And I would feel the same if you were lost.” She sighed. “But we must look beyond ourselves. Storm’s Quarry needs aid, and I should be on the front lines.”

  “Then let us get you there,” Nadya said, despite her chest protesting at the thought of the moment vanishing. “You said Marko was overseeing a shipment of rations. We can go meet him and help distribute them.” Once, she would have rather died then suggest spending time with Kesali’s betrothed, but she needed to distract Kesali before she went off and did something dangerous.

  “There is a shortage of volunteers for the ration lines. Most just want to steal extra,” Kesali said thoughtfully.

  “Well, that means we will need to wait to put our plan into action, but I think they could use us.”

  That got a smile out of her. Kesali squeezed her hand and let go, taking her warmth with her. “All right. Lead on. Let’s see how long I can keep my personal guard at bay.”

  *

  A grin split Lord Marko’s face as Kesali and Nadya approached the ration line. The crowd wound around the street, disappearing behind a string of dilapidated buildings. Mostly Nomori, though a smattering of Erevans stood with them in their tier, waiting anxiously for their weekly ration of rice, dried meat, and beans. All clutched red ration tokens. The city had distributed ration tokens long ago when the first floods hit, so a portion of the population showed up each day of the week for their food. Every family kept theirs updated, its stamp revealing the number of hungry mouths that needed rations. To tamper with the ration tokens was a crime as serious as they came in Storm’s Quarry, as floodwaters and rationing were a way of life.

  Guardsmen patrolled the line. Their weapons remained holstered and sheathed, and unless a serious fight broke out, they would use only harsh words to keep the peace on the line. Not many were keen to disturb it; a scuffle might mean sending everyone home without food.

  “Thank the gods, I thought you vanished on me.” Marko embraced Kesali, kissing her cheek. Nadya looked away. “Do you enjoy giving me a fright every time you slip your guard detail?”

  “Not as much as I enjoy the freedom of not being followed in my own city,” Kesali said, matching his playful tone. “I thought I—we—might be of assistance here.”

  “It would be better—”

  “If you tell me to return to the palace to twiddle my thumbs, I will sneak out every night and wrestle thieves to the ground in order to help.” Kesali looked almost serious, and Marko relented.

  “Better you get into trouble here, where it is safe.” He nudged her. “Though try not to bring too much trouble here, all right?”

  “Fine.”

  A cold feeling seeped into Nadya’s stomach. She turned away. She thought she could handle this, but seeing them together, trading punches, smiling…they made a good pair. Kesali wasn’t fazed by his royal upbringing; she was more than a match for him, and Marko seemed to relish having an equal rather a subservient for his betrothed.

  “How are you, Nadya?” he asked, finally looking at her.

  Nadya gave a quick smile. “Tired. I’ve been chasing her all around the city today.”

  “Well, then let your journey finally be at an end. You can go help with the boxes. Your father is here, though I’m sure you know. He’ll be happy to see both of you.”

  “Thank you, milord,” Kesali said, smiling.

  “And you, milady,” he replied.

  “Nadya, Lady Kesali,” Shadar said, coming around from the line. He gave Nadya a quick hug and nodded to Kesali.

  “Captain,” Kesali said, “Marko said you had work for a couple pairs of willing hands.”

  “Always. Come, you can unload the pallets.”

  He gave them the thrilling duty of unload the large shipments of food into smaller boxes. Before long, Nadya’s hands started smelling like fish as she handled the oily packets of dried provisions. Kesali worked alongside her, Marko on the other side. He probably should have been working with the Guard, but no one chastised him for spending time with his fiancée.

  After twenty minutes of the monotony, Kesali straightened up. “Oh, I see the Asigna family. Excuse me, I need to speak with them.” She left before either of them could protest.

  Marko shook his head. “Sometimes, I forget that she is not only my betrothed, but the Stormspeaker, and that comes with its own set of duties to her people.”

  “Yes,” Nadya said. What else was there to say?

  Awkwardness stretched between them with Kesali gone. Both buried themselves in the engrossing task of emptying large pallets of rice bags into smaller, more manageable crates. Nadya’s skin began twitching. She tried hard not to look at the Duke’s son, and one slipup revealed he was doing the same for her. With the mystery of the murders solved, they had nothing in common, nothing to speak about.

  “Why are you here?” Nadya asked, breaking the silence.

  Marko looked relieved. “I’m helping my city. Getting my hands dirty. Same as Kesali.”

  “And that’s what she would say. But there are more valuable things for the Duke’s son to be doing than handing out jerky. You know that.” She was surprised at how easy talking to him came, once she pushed away that he would be marrying Kesali. Better not to think on that, not now.

  He sighed. “There have been a few threats on ration shipments.”

  Of course, he was here to stop any trouble. “You think they’ll do something in broad daylight?”

  “No, they’re too smart. But they might canvass the security, the cargo. We’re here as observers, and…” He cleared his throat and looked away.

  Nadya chuckled. “You are a bad liar, and worse at keeping secrets. And?”

  “And maybe get a new lead on the Phoenix.”

  “Oh.” The cold feeling returned.

  Kesali’s return saved her from needing to give a more coherent reply. “What are you two so talkative about? Please tell me it isn’t more of that horrible Councillor.”

  “Just chatting,” Marko said. He smiled at his betrothed, and the love in his face was so plain it made Nadya’s jaw hurt.

  “You don’t chat. It’s business or nothing with you.”

  “In that we are the same. Fine, we were just talking about the Iron Phoenix.”

  Kesali, to her credit, did not even blink. “You do not think he’d show up here? Now?”

  “I—we have to do something.” His hesitation filled his words.

  “Why? Why waste the Guard’s resources like this?” Kesali demanded, the playful tone gone from her voice.

  Marko sighed. “It is a condition of the Wintercress aid.”

  “What?” Nadya could not stop the word from escaping. “That wasn’t talked about yesterday.”

  “I know. It was laid out weeks ago. Damn it all, but it has to be this way.” Marko looked at Kesali. “I did not tell you because I did not want to give you another reason to go after the Councillor. We need her
on our side, and Councillor Aster made it clear in her official correspondence that Wintercress’s aid will only continue if the city is sure to be safe from the masked menace, as she put it.”

  Kesali, to her credit, did not look at Nadya. Although that might have had more to do with the anger that practically boiled off her skin at Marko. “You had no right to keep such a thing from me! Or Nadya, for that matter. She’s your advisor now, and I am your betrothed.”

  He blanched and looked around. “Please, keep your voice down. The entire city does not need to know. I’m sorry I did not tell you two, all right?”

  “Perhaps.” The sharpness in her eyes did not dissipate, and Nadya could not help the tiny feeling of victory that rooted in her chest. Being lied to about matters of state so soon after Aster’s dismissiveness had to sting more than a bit, and Marko no doubt would be paying for his secret for quite a while.

  “So,” Nadya said at last, breaking the frosty silence, “you do not think the Phoenix should be captured?”

  “I don’t think we should spend resources on him right now. Does he have justice to face? Yes. But now is not the time.” He sighed. “Yet I am here. We have come up empty on nearly every lead. The Phoenix hasn’t been spotted recently, but here is as good a place to start as any.”

  “That makes little sense,” Kesali said curtly, heaving a bag of rice into the crate. “If he shows, which would be foolish in the first place, it’d be to make sure people are receiving their rations.”

  Nadya stayed silent. To hear someone defending the Phoenix, even if Kesali knew it was her, filled her with warmth. Across from the crate, Shadar looked at her meaningfully. His admonishing stare only lasted a moment, but it spoke volumes. She bit her lip and kept her eyes on her work.