The Alchemy of Chaos: A Novel of Maradaine (Maradaine Novels)

by Marshall Ryan Maresca

  “Oh, I know,” Veranix said. “I know I gave one of those Rose Street Princes a few crowns for a good time tonight, and, by every saint, did they deliver. I don’t know where the place was, but the girls—”

  “Please don’t tell me any more,” the cadet said.

  “But you really should hear it.”

  “Stop.” The cadet punctuated his order with a tight grip.

  “Fine, fine,” Veranix said, throwing up his hands. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, I just know that when I left here, gates were to close at nine bells. It’s not nine bells yet.”

  “Look, buddy,” the other cadet said. “I know you probably finished exams, went out for some fun, but real trouble happened tonight.”

  “Let me tell you about real trouble,” Veranix said. He added some exaggerated finger pointing, which might have been a bit of an overembellishment. Not that he really needed to be examining his craft at this moment.

  “Attacks, buddy. People hurt. Maybe dead.”

  “Dead?” Veranix almost broke character.

  “I don’t know, I just heard it was bad.”

  “Fine, fine. What does that have to do with keeping me out?”

  “Keeping everyone out. There’s a lockdown protocol.”

  “Yeah, yeah, but . . . really, guys, I need to get into campus. Help a guy out.”

  “Can’t be done,” the first cadet said.

  “Ain’t fair, guys,” Veranix said. “Really, I followed the rules.”

  “Look, you’ve just got to wait for the captain—”

  “Wagon.” The second cadet pointed down the street.

  Indeed, one of the University’s wagons was approaching. Veranix noticed there were several students piled in the back of it. A cadet—no, a cadet captain—was driving it. Clearly he had gone out to collect students in the position Veranix was pretending to be in.

  And he hadn’t gone out alone.

  The yellow dress stood out like a beacon down the street.

  “See,” one of the cadets said. “The captain is here, and he’ll check you out.”

  “Check me out?” Veranix asked.

  “Look, the whole point—just wait, all right?”

  “Fine.” All this wouldn’t have been necessary if he just had his cloak. He wondered if he should start carrying it with him everywhere.

  The wagon pulled up. “Another straggler?” the captain asked.

  Veranix shrugged. “I hadn’t planned on the gates closing early.”

  “None of us did, son,” he said. “Saints, boys, it’s worse out here than in there.”

  “So we’ve heard,” a cadet said. “But this one had a good time.”

  “Did you?” Kaiana finally spoke. “Captain, this is the one I was sent to find.”

  “Oh, is he?” The captain’s voice had an edge of bemusement and scorn to it.

  She came down from the wagon, her face unreadable. “Indeed.” She walked up to Veranix, and before he even realized it, she threw a backhanded slap across his face.

  That stung like blazes, but even through that he could tell she had pulled her hit. This was performance.

  “You’re a stupid lucky bastard, son,” the captain said.

  “Blazes, what is wrong with you?” Kaiana asked. “Saints, you stink of beer and sick. Did you vomit after your whoring? Or during?”

  Veranix fought the urge to applaud. At the very least he needed to match her level. “Well, it may have been both. I lost track, frankly.”

  She grabbed him by the ear, and faked twisting it, which he played up for their audience.

  “Captain, may I bring him to the Master of Protocol now?”

  “Of course, good lady,” the captain said. “Rest assured that I, at least, found your company worthwhile this evening.”

  She gave him a slight curtsy while holding on to Veranix’s ear. “I’m so glad there’s still decency on this campus. And I can trust in your discretion?”

  “Of course, Miss Nell.”

  He gave a whistle, and the cadets opened the gates. Kaiana led him in while the wagon started up behind them.

  She didn’t let go of Veranix’s ear as they walked, but as soon as they were far enough away she reduced the force of her twist.

  “I don’t know what you did, but that was brilliant,” Veranix said, still walking leaning to one side. “I presume we have to stay like this as long as we’re in sight.”

  “Damn right we do,” she said. She might have been enjoying this too much. “Briefly, when I realized that they were locking down the gates and sending out wagons to collect students, I knew I might have to do something to get you back in. This was after I had noticed the trail of destruction you left in your wake.”

  “That was the Prankster.”

  “Did you get him?”

  “No.” On her raised eyebrow he added, “Between the second assassin coming for me, and the stampede he caused, I was a bit busy.”

  “Fair enough. Anyhow, I told them a story of a boy who was invited to High Table, invited me as escortment, and then skipped to go carousing. Naturally they fell over themselves to help me find this terrible boy.”

  “Me.”

  “No names,” Kaiana said. “That was the clever part of my plan. Because I didn’t want to bring embarrassment on the professor who invited this deadbeat student, I asked the captain to keep this as quiet as possible.” She glanced back and let go of his ear. “Are you hurt?”

  “Nothing that will kill me,” Veranix said. “But I’m probably bruised all to blazes.” He remembered what the cadets had said about the attack. “How bad was it? The cadet said someone might have died.”

  “I don’t know,” Kai said. She anticipated the thing he most wanted to know. “Last I saw, the professor was hurt, but alive. Phadre stayed with him.”

  “Good. And, how much story are we going to have to come up with about where I went off to?”

  “Not much, I would think. It’s not like anyone was asking. People were more concerned with the injured.”

  “Fair enough.” They kept walking in silence for a while. “You were right, you know.”

  “Of course I was,” she said. “About what, exactly?”

  “That I have a responsibility to deal with things like the Prankster. He’s going to do more, I can tell you that much.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re going to the library right now.”

  Colin got back to the flop to find it far more crowded than usual. Must have been almost twenty Princes in there, including two other street captains: Arrick and Grint.

  “What’s the buzz in here?” He threw the double once he was inside. “Nobody told me we were having a party.”

  “I didn’t know you liked to be told everything,” Grint said. “I like to be told what’s going on, don’t you, Arrick?”

  Arrick nodded. “I find it quite helpful.”

  Colin sighed. That’s how this was going to go. He went over to the table where some kid was sitting down. “Get out of my chair.”

  The kid vacated and Colin sat down. “The meeting was for one captain from each gang. That was me.”

  “Who decided that was you?” Arrick asked.

  “Oh, you thought it should have been you, Arrick? Were you bothering to give a damn about Red Rabbits letting effitte and Fenmere across the Path? How about you, Grint?”

  “I didn’t know a damn thing about it!” Grint snapped. “What I hear is you took it upon yourself to hold a church meet. You decided that it was more important to tell Orphans and Boys than your own fellows!”

  “Fair point.”

  With a whistle, Grint got one of the other chairs evacuated and sat down, and Arrick did the same.

  “Glad to hear you admit that. The rest of this mess your fault?”

&nbs
p; “I ain’t owning it. Hell, I told the bosses—I even told—” He almost said Vessrin, but he knew to keep that to himself. Vessrin had crafted the mystique around himself; it wasn’t Colin’s place to diminish it. “I even told it straight to Old Casey. They thought it was a good idea for me to go. And things turned left, turned hard to the left, but that was on the Rabbits. Bastards tried to poison the priest, but ended up getting the stick.”

  “That lieutenant who wants to knock us all into Quarrygate? He’s dead?”

  “Couldn’t be,” some Prince in the background said. “I saw him out in the streets, after Colin there called for Princes to clear out.”

  “Yeah,” Colin said. This he ought to fess up. “I . . . I saved the stick.”

  The room exploded in shouts and yells.

  “Hey, enough!” Tooser was in the thick of it, having come out of the back room. He hit a couple of the kids with large-handed slaps. “You show some respect!”

  The room quieted down. Arrick leaned in across the table, almost spitting in Colin’s face. “You’re telling me that that bastard Benvin was dying at your feet, and you rutting well saved his blazing life?”

  “I made the call, it’s what captains do. Tooser, we got anything to drink in here?”

  Tooser scowled, but went to the pantry.

  “Listen,” Colin said. “Way I saw it, things were already going bad, and a dead stick lieutenant would have made things even worse. Instead, you know what that bastard Benvin knows? He knows he owes me. He knows he’s still walking because of a Rose Street Prince. Tell me that won’t burn him up.”

  Grint gave a slight nod, but Arrick didn’t look happy. “A few of my crew still got pinched by the lockwagon.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” For all Colin knew, so did his own crew. Tooser put out cups and a jug of cider. Clearly not enough for every Prince in the room. “Toos, are we—”

  “We’re all here,” Tooser said quietly. “But there’s stuff you should know.”

  “Well then, share with us!” Arrick snapped. “Because we’re all Princes, and we shouldn’t have rutting secrets here!”

  Tooser sighed. “Jutes and Deena, they had some sort of run-in, involving the Thorn and another one of those Deadly Birds. They both got pretty well beat.”

  “What?” Colin was on his feet, his chair hitting the floor, and pushed his way through the crowd.

  “We ain’t done!” Arrick shouted.

  Colin didn’t pay him any mind. He went into the back room, where several Princes were dozing, most of whom looked like they had been hurt. Most not too much, but Jutie and Deena were both lying up in one corner. They were both bruised all to blazes. Deena’s eye was swollen, and Jutie had a nasty gash across the top of his head. Despite that, he was grinning from ear to ear, talking to Theanne as she changed his bandage out.

  “Blazes happened to you two, Jutes?”

  Deena spoke. “We were at the gates when the Thorn showed up, trying to grab some other tosser. Then this lady—dark gray from head to toe, starts up with him. Next thing I know, this one here gets into it to help the Thorn.”

  “Damn right I helped the Thorn!” Jutie said it loud enough for everyone in the flop to hear. “You said it yourself, Colin. Hetzer died helping him. If he’s good enough for Hetz to die for him, I’m getting in there.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Deena said. “What matters is this lady cleaned the streets with our faces.”

  “Sorry about that,” Colin said. “And the Thorn?” Veranix was out in the thick of it. Again. He knew that. Blazes, he saw it when the stampede started. That blasted Constabulary cadet had more stones than he did, jumping on the stampede. Veranix just went right past him and he did nothing.

  Right past him, with a masked girl right there with him. Stupid, blazing stupid. He could be dead.

  “Thorn was trying to stay on the tosser, Bird was on him, we did our best, but she was damn good.”

  “Course she was damn good, Jutes. She’s a professional assassin!”

  “I got some swings in.”

  “He got no swings in,” Deena said. “To be fair, I got fully trounced by her.”

  “Hey!” Colin called out to the rooms. “Anyone know if the Thorn got killed?”

  “What the blazes does that have to do with anything?” Arrick snapped. He had come into the doorframe. “Our folk are laid up like this, some are probably in the lockwagon, and you’re asking about the Thorn?”

  “Thorn is a friend of Rose Street, idiot,” Jutie said, pulling himself up to his feet.

  “You talking to me like that, scrap?” Arrick shouted. “You got stars on your arm?” He came in and took a swing at Jutie. Colin caught Arrick’s arm before he connected, twisting it behind his back.

  “Ease down,” Colin snapped.

  “Get off!”

  A few folk—Arrick’s crew, likely—all drew knives and knucklestuffers. Jutie and Tooser went for their blades.

  “Hey, hey!” Colin shouted. “All of you, bring it down.”

  “Get off me!” Arrick shouted.

  Colin shoved him to the floor and held up his arm. “Whose stars are the oldest here? Yours, Arrick?”

  “You know they ain’t,” Arrick said, still on the ground. The fire seemed to have been knocked out of him, at least for the moment.

  “Grint, how about you?”

  “I’m not in this, man.” He stayed in his chair, sipping his cider.

  “We got any bosses down here? No? Then who is the blasted captain in charge down here?”

  “You are,” someone mumbled from the corner of the room.

  “Anybody here not a Rose Street Prince?” He pointed to one guy who still had his knife out. “You saying you don’t have ink on your arm?”

  “Of course I do!”

  “Then put the blasted knife away, idiot! We’re all damned Rose Street Princes, and we don’t need to be cutting each other!”

  For a moment, no one did anything.

  “Now!”

  Knives and knuckledusters went away.

  “Blazes, folks,” Colin said, walking back out to the table. “Look, we did not have a good night out there. And I mean all of us in Aventil. You want no secrets, Arrick?”

  “It’d be a start,” Arrick said, finally getting up off the floor. “That and keeping your crew in line.”

  He had a fair point there. “Jutes. Respect the man’s stars.”

  “Will do,” Jutie said. “He’s not an idiot.”

  That kid, he’ll probably be running the Princes when everyone else was in their graves.

  “All right, then. Listen up, folks.”

  The whole room was on him now.

  “It’s possible that the Pact is dead. If so, Fenmere will get a foot over Waterpath, and it’ll be the Rabbits who gave it to him.”

  “Then the Rabbits need to get knocked down,” Arrick said.

  Grint shrugged. “Looked like they got a good knocking tonight.”

  “Which is why I only said possible, folks. Might be tonight smacked some sense in to them. We gotta see, let the bosses know what’s going on out here.”

  “You mean you tell the bosses,” Arrick scoffed.

  “Blazes, Arrick, if you wanna be the one who tells them, or you wanna come with me, I’m fine with that.”

  Arrick paused. Clearly he thought Colin was trying to trick him, and wasn’t sure which way to go. “We go together, then.”

  Colin gave him that. “You wanna go now, or wait a bit? Sticks are out in force, let alone whatever else is going on out there.”

  “I suppose we need to let them know what’s happening.”

  “All right. Rest of you folk, you’re welcome to stay or go as you see fit, this is a Prince flop after all. Most of you ain’t spent much time here, so look to Tooser and t
he rest of my crew for the rules. Two big ones: do not touch the crates, and do not open that door for someone who isn’t a Prince. We clear?”

  There were general nods.

  Colin knocked Grint on the shoulder. “That means you, brother. Look to Tooser in here, get?”

  “Got.”

  “Good. Last thing, folks. I’ve told you all the Thorn is a friend of Rose Street. I want to know what’s going on with him, and so do the bosses. Anything you hear, I want to know about it.”

  The faces around him looked confused, but people nodded.

  “All right. Come on, Arrick.”

  Two steps into the alley they were treated to the sight of a stick getting his teeth knocked out in the middle of the street. At least a dozen Rabbits were doing the honors, right there in the middle of Rose Street.

  That wouldn’t stand. Not for one blasted second.

  “Princes!” Colin shouted. “We’ve got a row!”

  As his folk poured out of the flop, Colin drew out his knives and set his sights on the Rabbit captain.

  “Isn’t the library closed right now?” Veranix asked as they got closer. “And shouldn’t the whole lockdown thing be a problem?”

  “It is closed at this hour, yes. However, if one is friendly with Missus Heldivale—”

  “Is that the head librarian?”

  “Yes it is. You have stepped inside there, yes?”

  “I’ve entered the building.”

  “As have I, quite a bit in the past month. She’s a lovely woman. Do you know who else she’s fond of?”

  “Delmin?”

  “He’s astoundingly popular with her, as a matter of fact. So he is over there with your escorted of the evening. You do remember her, yes?”

  “Jiarna? I was just glad to know that she’s not the Prankster.”

  “She was your suspect?” Kaiana shrugged. “I suppose she’s got the knowledge.”

  “And the anger.”

  “Did you listen to her conversation with Phadre?”

  “Honestly, no. I lost track of it after they got technical.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Shut it.”

  “You realize she’s brilliant, but none of her professors want to even look at her work?”