The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy)

by Grefer, Victoria

Markulas counted through the deck and removed the proper cards, keeping them facedown. Then he turned over the first. It showed an orange triangle, glowing faintly.

  “Is it power?” asked Kora. “Or strength, maybe?”

  Markulas gave no physical reaction. “You’re thinking of the sorcerer’s mark. This is that symbol, but it doesn’t follow that you’re empowered. No, this symbol here means secrets. Your life is filled with secrets, perhaps secrets you keep from yourself.”

  Kora could only nod, her throat dry. There was that matter of the ruby on her forehead….

  Coincidence. Pure coincidence.

  Markulas flipped the second card. An eye appeared upon it, a large, veined eye, but not a normal one; the pupil looked milky.

  “The blind eye,” said the teller. “Not a card I often see. Twelve years ago, in fact, was the last time someone drew it. It means that your ultimate fate is uncertain.”

  Kora bit her lip. “Is that bad?”

  “Your future hangs in the balance. Deciding actions, for your destruction or prosperity, have yet to be taken. You are master of yourself, more so than most. Any and every choice of yours could seal your fate.”

  Kora had heard enough. “Turn the last card,” she said.

  It was a gravestone. Next to her, Kora heard Kansten’s breath catch.

  “Grief,” said Markulas. “Not death but grief.”

  “Some would say that’s worse,” Kora whispered.

  He said matter-of-factly, “There’s no certainty a death or deaths will come. There are other forms of loss, and this card is far from rare.”

  Suddenly, Kora was not so certain all tellers must be frauds.

  Markulas swept up the cards. Without a word from anyone, he reshuffled the deck and set it before Kansten. She cut it just below its center.

  “Seventeen,” she said. Her voice was oddly hushed. “Seventy-four. One hundred thirty.” Markulas drew the cards.

  The first showed a serpent wrapped around a skull. The animal was striking forward, fangs exposed, as though trying to stretch out of the card on which it had been painted.

  “The card of fear. Something terrifies you, down to the root of your soul. It’s so entrenched it’s become a part of you. It influences your thoughts, your decisions. It remains the root of all your actions. You probably think it weakens you. Whether it does, I cannot say.”

  Kansten nodded, much like Kora had done at the glowing triangle. Markulas flipped the second card.

  “The fox has two meanings. The first would imply you’re quick-witted. You make smart decisions under pressure, are best when backed in a corner. You know how to fight yourself out of it. The second meaning is less optimistic.”

  “What is it?” asked Kansten.

  “The pursuit. The chase. That someone is after you with no good intention.”

  Kora felt sick to her stomach. This card, too, was accurate. Kansten was a member of the Crimson League; Markulas could not know it, but she was, and that meant many a person who would love to get his hands on her. And Lanokas had said she was good in a pinch; those were his exact words. Not one, but both readings of this card described her perfectly. No, fortunetelling did not seem just a show, though Kora found herself wishing that it might be. The image of that gravestone was swimming before her eyes.

  Markulas turned over the third and final card. Kansten gasped. Even Kora did not need Markulas to explain what it meant; she put a hand on her trembling companion’s shoulder while she stared down at the image of….

  “The cage. Capture. A logical progression from the fox, I believe.”

  The teller scooped up the cards and put them in the center of the deck. If he suspected he had two members of the Crimson League before him, he made no mention of the fact and asked no questions. He began shuffling his deck with no greater awkwardness than if they had just discussed the weather over a friendly gambling session where no one had lost a thing. Kora struggled to decide what to do, what to say, but it was Kansten who spoke first. She sounded hoarse.

  “We came to see what you have for sale.”

  “Then browse the shelves.”

  Kansten drew back the curtain and moved to the nearest display. Kora went to another, though she had no clue what to look for. She examined a collection of oil lamps for something odd, something to raise suspicion, and found nothing but some oil stains and tarnishing. She and Kansten moved through the store, shelf by shelf, but nothing caught their eyes. They were too preoccupied to talk. Kora hoped they were not too preoccupied to search properly. If the Librette were actually here and Kora passed it over because not only the gravestone, but now the cage was bobbing around her mind….

  “I think we’ve seen enough,” said Kansten finally.

  Markulas replied, “The auras about you…. I wasn’t wrong. Two readings of great interest, great interest indeed. Especially yours.” He indicated Kora with a nod.

  “The blind eye,” she said. “Had you really not seen it in twelve years?”

  “It appeared at the last free reading I gave. I sensed an aura there too, some eight or ten years ago. A young man stopped in to ask directions. He was about your age, quite a handsome lad. Hair black as the night sky. He wasn’t familiar with the area, said he was from the capital, and I was struck right away by his garments. The richest silk I had ever seen, crystal white. ‘Here is the son of a nobleman,’ I thought. Not just any nobleman, it turned out, but the king’s adviser. You may never have seen him—you probably never will—but you know him. We all know him now.”

  A cold tremor ran down Kora’s spine. “Zalski.”

  On the way back to the lodging house, Kora and Kansten stopped at eight more fortunetelling shops. They found nothing. Kora saw a chipped china saucer at one place, but the imperfection hardly qualified it to be an enchanted tome. Some stores had rare herbs hanging from the walls; others sold only books, or only cups for reading tea leaves. Some tellers offered to read their cards, much like Markulas, or even pleaded, which made the blood leave Kansten’s face. Kora had to refuse for both of them because Kansten lost her voice at those moments.

  Hansrelto’s book evaded them, but Kansten did come across one thing that caught her eye. She bought an amulet from one of the last shops. Its stone was oval in shape, carved from jade. The woman who sold it said it was supposed to absorb basic spells.

  “I can’t say it’ll work,” said Kansten, when she and Kora stepped outside. “Even if it does, the spells I come up against won’t be basic ones, not if they come from him. I feel better having it, though.”

  Even after eating at a cheap, crowded tavern, they were the first back to the League’s rooms. Kansten collapsed in a chair, her head dropped, while Kora lit a fire. The blonde mumbled, “It can’t be. It can’t. It won’t happen that way.”

  The fire began to crackle. Kora turned around. “What won’t happen?”

  Kansten’s head did not rise. “I’d die before they capture me, Zalski and his hounds. I’d kill myself if I had to. Publicly hanged, after who knows what torture…. I’d kill myself first. I’ve always said that.”

  Kora brought her a glass of water; that was the only kind gesture she could think of that Kansten would not reject. Kansten held the cup steady, a good sign, and Kora hazarded, “Do you ever wonder if the fight’s worth it?”

  “How can it be? We’ll be dead in a year, every one of us. Six months if Zalski snags the Librette. I’m almost glad it’s too late to turn back, or I’d be tempted to leave.” Kansten, who had yet to sip the water, spilled some of the glass’s contents as she slammed it on the table. Kora jumped. “Why the hell did you join us? What’s wrong with you? Everything we do, it’s hopeless. Can’t you see that?”

  Kora froze for a moment, taken aback by the verbal assault. Then she remembered what Lanokas had told her that first night with the League: that Laskenay had not smiled in weeks before meeting her; that maybe, giving hope was enough by itself.

  Kora tapped her fingers on her leg.
Finally she asked, “Do you remember my first card?”

  “The triangle,” said Kansten. “Secrets. That sounds about right. I would have asked you about it, but all I’ve thought about all day is that damned cage. Look, there’s something odd about you. I’ve known it from the first. Your family’s in hiding, but you won’t say what for. Laskenay trusts you over me on practically no basis….”

  Kora pulled off her bandana. Kansten toppled her seat. “You? The Marked One? You, of all people?”

  “You can think that if you want to.”

  “How many people…? Who knows about this?”

  “Laskenay. And Lanokas and Bennie, they found me on their scouting expedition. Sedder too, of course. He was with me. To be fair, I guess I shouldn’t leave Zalski out either.”

  Kansten’s face darkened. “Zalski knows?”

  “It was all so sudden. I met the League by chance, completely by chance, you have to understand that, and we were set on right after by Zalski’s elite guard. Some of them got away. That’s all it takes, isn’t it? They’d lagged behind, or they were a second patrol. We think they saw me. At least, they ran from us. I’m not sure why.”

  For some reason, Kansten’s demeanor changed. Her negative air dissolved. “The League could’ve killed them, that’s why. They had news to get to Zalski, and they thought that was most important. Listen, it doesn’t matter. You found the League first. You could have found the guard. They got away, but they didn’t drag you with them. I’m almost glad Zalski knows of you. I hope it disturbs his sleep!

  “Kora, you really must be the Marked One. The terror, the forced allegiance, the taxes that’re causing ruin: you’ll end it all, every bit of it. Zalski won’t let the word get out, of course. Not to the people. They’ve been praying for the rise of the Marked One for years. Can you imagine the uprising? He’s frightened, Kora, frightened of you, and when people are frightened they do stupid things. He’ll trip himself up. We just have to wait our chance…. You have to tell the others what you are.”

  “I will,” said Kora. “Or I, I’ll let them see the ruby. I’d appreciate it, though, if what happened with Markulas stays with you.”

  “The same goes for me,” said Kansten. “We shouldn’t say a thing, not a thing. There’s no way to know there’s any truth to it.”

  “No way at all,” agreed Kora. After having her fortune told, Kansten distrusted the art to some extent, and her loss of respect made perfect sense to her companion. In fact, her refusal to deem the cards accurate made Kora, who was tempted to believe, feel better about that tombstone.

  Kansten righted her chair, then noticed one of the stools across the room. “Someone left some parchment on their seat,” she said. Kora picked it up. It was untitled, a list of some twenty-odd names.

  “That’s the hit list Menikas found. I saw Laskenay reading it this morning.” Kora held out the parchment to Kansten. “She thinks they’re all from Hogarane. Take it. I might recognize someone, and I don’t want to.”

  Kansten scanned the list, struggling to read, focusing so intently that Kora’s last words passed over her. “Fo…. Foden, would that be? I like that. They had a nice name, poor devils.”

  Kora’s heart skipped a beat. “What did you say?”

  “Foden,” Kansten repeated. “Sounds familiar somehow. Two of them.”

  “Let me see that.” Kora almost ripped the parchment. She let her eyes skim the list until she found what she was looking for near the bottom, beneath Mr. Gared’s brother’s name. Her stiff arm dropped the sheet.

  “Sedder’s parents.”

  “What? How’d they die? Does Sedder know about this?”

  “Does he know Zalski killed them? Not a clue. They got sick, died within a week of each other.”

  “Poison,” said Kansten. “There are lots to choose from, some slow-acting enough to pose as illness once Zalski, um, improves them. They got his old man when Sedder was out. A meal Sedder never ate, it had to be. He’s lucky. Some of Zalski’s henchmen would have killed him too, for good measure.”

  “But why? Why would Zalski kill the Fodens? Were they part of the League?”

  Kora’s legs felt dangerously close to giving way, but she stayed standing. Kansten said, “If they were, I didn’t know them. Don’t think I ever heard their name before Sedder joined up. You and Sedder are so new, I doubt even Menikas realizes who those people were.”

  Kora ran a hand through her hair. She could not feel her fingers. “I have to tell Sedder. He has to know this.” Kansten led her to a seat, her arm rough but steadying.

  “You’ve had a shock. There’s nothing you can do right now, just breathe for me. Breathe.” Kora took a heavy and painful breath. “Listen, talk to Menikas when you get a chance, because he might know something. I doubt it, but he might. In the meantime, don’t let this get to you. You knew before that they were dead, and so did Sedder. I don’t mean that heartlessly, but….”

  “No,” said Kora, “you’re right. You’re right, I just never imagined….”

  Kansten put a consolatory hand upon her shoulder.

  445

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Librette Oscure

  Kora left her forehead exposed, so her fellow Leaguesmen would notice the ruby when they returned to the lodging house. Lanokas and Bennie were the first to come back. The redhead smiled, while the noble assured Kora, “You’re doing the right thing. I knew you would, and before too long.”

  Kora did not believe him for a second. “And how is that, exactly?”

  “You had to accept it for yourself, that was all.”

  Kora protested, “I didn’t accept a thing. I’m letting everyone judge for themselves what it means.”

  “A perfectly reasonable stance,” he said.

  “Any luck with the Librette?” asked Kansten.

  Bennie said, “We went to five or so antique shops on the north side of town. You’d be amazed how many things there are in those places. And that was after Laskenay said only to look at half of everything in any one trip. We’ll take the other half tomorrow.”

  “We did no better,” said Kora. “We had no clue where to start, but that’s true of all of us.”

  The rest of the League trickled in, group by group. They all reacted differently to the gem, but there was no disputing the change in atmosphere. Each person seemed more energetic, or more hopeful. Kora picked the perfect time to make her revelation, because the day’s search had frayed everyone’s nerves.

  Laskenay was the next to make her way back. Already privy to Kora’s secret, her ice blue eyes brightened, she said from the corner of her mouth, “Not the Marked One, hmm?” and Kora had to repeat the disclaimer she gave Lanokas. Menikas then entered, with Sedder. The League’s chief was the only person who said nothing, but he jabbed Kora supportively on the shoulder. Sedder said her father would be proud, and plopped himself next to her on the floor. She was glad to have him near, though she felt awkward around him after reading his parents’ names on that list, and was almost relieved when Lanokas called him away. Ranler, on seeing Kora, stood stock still in the doorway. “It’s about time something good happened,” he quipped. Neslan let out a joyful holler that caused Bennie to clasp a hand over his mouth; he smiled for a full hour afterward.

  No one brought a thing back with them, but no one but Laskenay seemed perturbed by their failure after seeing or being reminded of the stone on Kora’s forehead. When Menikas asked who would like to partner whom for the next day’s search, Kora and her childhood friend said they’d like to go together. The chief consented. “You can finish what we started this afternoon,” he told Sedder. “There looked to be a shop on every corner, we didn’t get to half to them.” Kansten, it so happened, would be able to join them, as Galisan’s men were entering the hunt.

  Later that night, when Menikas, Neslan, Kansten, and Bendelof headed to their rooms across the street, Sedder stayed behind with Kora. They followed the others outside for a private word, Laskenay warni
ng them not to discuss the League.

  The streets were close to empty. The hour was nearing midnight, and what people were about were heading home. Kora guessed they came mostly from the taverns, since more than one specimen had trouble walking straight and a few were still drinking from flasks, spilling more on their tunics than what actually reached their mouths. The only soldier in sight was far enough away that Kora almost did not see him for what he was. She sat on the curb, which was somehow much cleaner than the street, provided one ignored the patches in front of doorsteps, and straightened the bandana she had put back on as Sedder sank down next to her.

  “I hate this thing,” she muttered.

  “Can you believe we’ve barely talked since this started?”

  “We’ve barely talked since Zalski came to power,” she responded. Neither party was responsible. There was simply no time beneath the new regime to visit old friends who lived miles away. People toiled from dawn to dusk to pay half the taxes demanded of them.

  Sedder asked, “Is that why you came to town Wednesday? Because the bakery doesn’t let me work Wednesdays?”

  “I didn’t think about the coal coming through. I didn’t think at all. I should have just gone earlier. Those shipments always come in the middle of the week.”

  “Well, it was a nice surprise when you came to the door. And a bit like old times to spend the morning in town. As for everything that happened after, well….” He stumbled over his tongue. “How are you hanging in there?”

  Kora almost assured him she was adapting, but remembered the tombstone card and the hit list. Her throat seemed to swell up on her; there was no point lying to him, he would hear the truth between her words. “I’m not hanging in,” she said. “I don’t know where I am or what I’m doing, and I can’t stand that. I hate feeling lost. My heart won’t let me the rest of me catch up to it, my muscles ache because I’m tense all the time…. It’s like when we were kids at the market that day with your mother, and we stopped when we saw that puppy with its fur all matted hiding behind a stall. By the time we coaxed him out to us she was gone. I was terrified.”