“What happened to his family?” Kora asked.
“The women didn’t know them. I never managed to track them down.”
There was a moment of silence, where Kora looked at Sedder, and Sedder looked unabashedly back. Finally Kora asked him, “Did those women say if any violence…?”
“Hunt was not that breed of bastard. He robbed so he wouldn’t starve, period.”
“And ate his way into a hangman’s noose,” said Kora. “I wonder how many times he had to steal before they caught him.”
Sedder’s face darkened a shade. His voice was brusque, almost what it had been the night before when discussing Hunt’s fate. “One time would be enough,” he said.
Kora was unsure how exactly to respond, but Nani’s call to breakfast saved the need. Kora braced herself, then threw her blanket off and planted her bare feet on the cold wood floor.
After breakfast, Sedder went off to explore Podrar. Kora stayed in and spent most of the day helping Nani with household chores, cleaning the kitchen, mending shirts and dresses, knitting clothes for the baby. Even knowing the next afternoon would find her back with the Crimson League, meeting a spy, and that her time would be wiser spent poring over the spellbook Laskenay made her bring, there was something exquisite about sitting with Nani and sewing, exquisite because housework was utterly mundane. A needle and thread had nothing to do with magic, or with Zalski, or with fortunetellers. Kora passed a normal, humdrum day of the sort she had never thought to find joy in, but when she lay down that night it was with a peaceful heart, joyful to think she had at least another morning to spend with Nani before heading off with Laskenay and Ranler.
That morning was gone before she realized it had passed. One minute she was cooking eggs, the next she spotted Ranler coming to the door, Laskenay a pace behind in a workwoman’s frock and wool coat with her hair in a messy bun. A twinge of guilt struck Kora when she met Laskenay’s ice blue eyes and thought of the spellbook she had not opened. She let the ache pass, resolved not to mention her lack of study.
“Where are we going?” Kora asked when they started down the nearly empty street. Laskenay answered.
“Where we always meet Wilhem. It’s thirty minutes from here.”
“What news do you think he has?”
“He’s one of the elite guard, so military news.”
That was all anyone said until they reached a commercial stretch of road. Store fronts lined the way, numerous signs hanging partly off their poles. Women carried baskets loaded with wares, and Kora saw more than one purchase knocked to the ground by a passerby. She used Ranler’s bald head as a landmark when people cut in front of her, so as not to get lost in the shuffle. When Laskenay turned onto a side street, less busy but with clusters of shoppers, Kora followed. Soon they entered an alley between two brick warehouses, and climbed into the one on the left through a broken window.
The building was dim and dingy, and just as crowded as the street, though crates and boxes packed the space instead of moving bodies. These stood in stacks almost to the ceiling, many moldy where rain had leaked through the ceiling. The only empty space came from a number of thin paths that twisted through the room to give access to the crates.
“Let’s get this over with and get out of here,” Kora whispered.
Laskenay was the only one familiar with the warehouse, based on the way Ranler looked around for spiders or for mice. She led the way through the stacks. Kora made out a door, the entrance to a room that must have once been an office of some type.
Laskenay walked in, then Ranler. Kora entered last to find herself momentarily blinded, not so much by light—the windows had moth-eaten curtains drawn over them—as by an unexpected blow to the head. She made to collapse, but a rough hand prevented it; her arms were yanked behind her and tied by someone she saw, with shock equal to horror, to be a member of Zalski’s elite guard. He wore a crisp, sapphire blue uniform distinct from the army’s suit of black.
Her heart pounding, Kora glanced around the room. Ranler, next to her, was likewise bound and held, as was Laskenay, a gag forced in her mouth. A dust-covered desk stood in the corner, without a chair. Two crates were stacked against the wall, and a tall woman Laskenay’s age stood smirking in front of them, her long, white hair almost glowing in the dim light, her dark eyes indistinct.
Kora tried to twist away from the man who held her, but he only gripped her tighter and forced her to her knees.
“Is he here?” came Ranler’s voice.
Kora remembered, in a rush, the invisibility spell. She remembered Zalski used it often. Her legs went numb.
“You’d be dead by now if he were,” the woman answered. Her voice was soft, almost melodious. She turned her attention to Kora, staring at her headwrap.
“You, on the other hand, he’d wish to speak to.” She stepped toward Kora, who, in a flash of instinct, knew who this woman must be: Malzin, Zalski’s wife and head of the elite guard, feared above everyone but Zalski himself for her ability to read thoughts through touch.
Kora still knelt; her captor had not let her rise. While Malzin wrenched off her bandana and ran a finger along the ruby’s edge, Kora focused her mind on the crates against the wall, until Malzin stepped back, her eyes narrowed, and glanced toward those very wooden cartons.
“Porteg, is it not? I would introduce myself, but you seem to know me already.”
Kora half-expected her heart to explode, so fiercely, so painfully, did it pound against her ribs. Her twisted arms hurt nothing in comparison. Why hadn’t she read that spellbook? She forced herself to hold Malzin’s gaze. Eventually, Malzin turned to Laskenay.
“It’s been far too long. Two and a half years, to be precise, and you haven’t aged a day.” Curious, she removed the pins from Laskenay’s hair, allowing the bound woman’s black tresses to tumble down her back. Stepping away to examine any changes wrought, Malzin confirmed, “Not a day. Neither has your brother, I think you’ll find, though his hair is a bit longer.”
“You found Wilhem out,” said Ranler.
“We haven’t killed him yet. That would have made this reunion nigh impossible.”
Kora shut her eyes. She allowed Malzin’s voice to morph into Sedder’s; once more she heard him counsel her, “Make your story one worth telling. Pretend Zac’s watching. Act as though he is, that’s all you have to do.”
With that thought, she controlled her heartbeat, forgot her fears. She turned her head to look at Laskenay’s hands and focused on the rope that bound them behind the woman’s back, praying she might not destroy Laskenay herself.
“Fwaig Commenz!”
The man holding Laskenay released her in shock. Within seconds, her bonds had burned enough that the sorceress ripped them away. Malzin rushed at her, but Laskenay was too quick, tearing the gag from her mouth and yelling, “Estatua!”
Malzin froze mid-launch like a statue. Not wasting a second, Laskenay drew a dagger and stabbed the guard who had let her break free, stabbed him in the chest. Meanwhile, Ranler kicked out sideways, hitting the man who held Kora captive and throwing off his balance. The thief promptly received a blow in the small of the back from his guard, whom Laskenay kneed in the groin.
Her arms still bound, unable to think of a spell, Kora ran to the desk to buy time and to put furniture between herself and the soldiers. Her captor followed, but with Laskenay’s cry of “Mudar,” the top of the two stacked crates barreled to the ground when the one beneath it slid across the floor, tripping him.
“Run,” said Laskenay. No one needed further telling. Ranler’s guard was struggling to stand, while Kora’s had risen and pulled a sword. Kora still remembered no spells, except the fire spell, and Laskenay’s tone made clear that she herself would work no more magic against the enemy, not when she had other options.
Laskenay was the last Leaguesmen out the office. She cast “Mudar” when she was safely inside the main warehouse, and the stack of crates nearest the door collapsed behind her, blocking
the entrance. She did not bother to wipe her dagger; Kora and Ranler paused long enough for her to cut their bonds, and they were running once more, taking off just as Kora’s guard cleared the pile of wooden fragments. They were almost to the window when Kora realized she had lost her bandana.
Her throat closed up as she raised a hand to her forehead. She was trapped, trapped between capture in this hole or exposure in the city. She almost froze, unwilling to move forward. Then the answer came to her.
“Despareska.”
Kora peered down. She stumbled when she saw nothing there….
“Don’t look at your feet!” cried Laskenay. Kora caught herself and glanced behind; the guardsman with the sword was almost close enough to stab Zalski’s sister.
“Mudar,” came Kora’s disembodied voice, so mechanically she hardly realized it was hers. The crate atop the nearest stack slid over the walkway just as the guard ran pell-mell beneath it. It slammed him on the shoulder on its way to the floor, and the man and his blade tumbled with it. The next thing Kora knew she was out the window and back in the alley, then the street, obsessively looking behind to check that no one followed. Ranler and Laskenay walked as fast as possible without drawing attention to themselves.
“Kora?” said Laskenay, before she turned into the busier, store-lined road. Kora judged it best not to talk, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Follow as closely as you can. Try not to jostle people. Should Ranler and I be spotted, leave us.”
“What?!” Kora sputtered, before she could stop herself.
“Should we be spotted, we will fend for ourselves,” said Laskenay, with a horrible calm. “That’s an order. Tell Nani you need Menikas. She knows where to find him.”
Kora knew what was behind her words: protect the Marked One at all costs. Protect the Marked One. Curse the Marked One, if Laskenay could not understand she was twice as valuable as Kora would ever be….
Ranler’s voice was sharp, as though he knew what Kora was thinking. “Do as she says,” he told her.
“And don’t talk anymore,” added Laskenay, as she turned into the wave of people along the main drag with a whispered word that made the blood spatter on her dress disappear: her vanishing spell. She held Ranler’s hand and leaned close, whispering in his ear as though they were a couple anxious to get someplace more private. That they could shake off an attack so quickly was a mark of the lives they had led for the past two years. They looked perfectly natural, the both of them; Kora’s lungs were still searing with every breath she took.
And yet, she was breathing. Lanokas had been right that first evening, she thought as she walked along, spinning ninety degrees to avoid a woman barreling down the road. Somehow, she had known what to do.
* * *
Their first stop was Nani’s. Sedder must have been waiting by the window, because he came to the door before Laskenay and Ranler walked up.
“Where’s Kora?”
“Behind us,” said Ranler.
Sedder was incensed. “By herself? She’s coming back alone? What’s the matter with you?”
“No, she’s with us,” said Laskenay. “Let us in.”
Sedder blinked stupidly, but obliged. “Where is Kora?” he asked again, when they were standing around the living room. “And what happened to your wrists?”
“Desfazair,” said Kora. Sedder jumped when she appeared before the threshold. “Invisibility spell,” she explained. She looked at her own wrists and saw the ropes had chafed them raw. Amazing she had not realized. “We were ambushed,” she added.
“What!?”
The elder sorceress took command. “We need to gather the group. Kora, you’ll go with Ranler.”
Sedder stepped forward. “Kora will go with me. You people have done enough to her.”
Laskenay’s eyes iced over. “It was not I who did a thing to her. If Kora would like me to put her in a safehouse, again I tell her she has only to speak the word. But if you think Zalski won’t turn stone from stone to find her, especially after today…. Kora’s going with Ranler, and that’s final. Unlike you, he knows where to take her. You’ll come with me. Before we leave, Kora, do you have a wig here?”
“In the back,” Kora said.
It impressed upon them all what danger threatened, Laskenay’s asking for a wig. Kora had never seen her wear one. Such nervousness was eating Kora’s heart that she thought she could never feel worse, but somehow, knowing Laskenay to be more afraid than usual started something else gnawing from the other ventricle, and the younger sorceress ran to the back of the house to fetch disguises.
Laskenay directed when she returned, “Bring that bandana, but turn invisible. You have to. The guards will look at women with their heads covered like hawks look at a fieldmouse.”
Laskenay’s wig was white-blonde, long and straight, and Kora shivered to look at her. Her pale eyes and complexion were all that prevented her looking like Malzin’s double.
“What did you…? What did you do to Malzin?” Kora asked.
“I froze her. She’ll be all right, for good or ill. Zalski will free her. I could have killed her, I suppose, but killing her with magic….”
“I thought you had.”
“No. No, I wouldn’t aim to kill her even in fair fight. Zalski’s anger, the repercussions….”
Kora finished Laskenay’s thought. “They’d be horrendous, wouldn’t they?”
They were off a few minutes later. Ranler led an invisible Kora through most of the city, his pace awkwardly slow to keep her from falling behind. About an hour later, they came to a neighborhood much poorer than Nani’s, one bordering the outskirts. There was no one in sight, so Ranler deemed it safe to talk quietly.
“You and Laskenay have something in common, then.”
“Oh,” said Kora. “Yes, I guess we do. That whole magic thing.” She shuddered at how close she had come to burning Laskenay alive, and was glad Ranler could not see her. Even now, she hardly knew how she dared speak that incantation.
“You fought good,” he said. “I had my doubts when I met you. Didn’t think you’d last too long. I’m lucky I didn’t have you pegged right.”
“Well, you took a nasty hit for me in the thick of things.”
“Forget about it.”
Ranler spoke with enough finality that Kora said nothing else until he turned up the walk to a cabin. No shutters lined the windows, its curtains were linen sheets in various states of threadbareness, and Kora could only pray that the roof was sturdier than it appeared to the untrained eye. The yard had not been tended for what she guessed to be years.
“Is this where we’re going?”
“Obviously.”
“Does someone live here?”
“An old associate of mine used to.”
Kora was put off ease to think her life depended on a thief’s honor, especially a thief she knew nothing about, but there was nothing to do but follow Ranler, who picked the lock on the door within a minute.
“I’m going for light,” said Kora’s guide. “Wait here.”
The sun was beginning to set, and the cabin was a bit too dark to maneuver easily, not that there was much to the structure, just a filthy kitchen and a room with an unmade bed and some dilapidated chairs. Ranler rooted through a basket he found on the kitchen windowsill. Removing two half-consumed candles, he stuck them in tarnished holders. A bit wary, Kora nonetheless cancelled the effects of her invisibility spell as he approached.
“Do the honors?” he asked.
She lit the candles by magic, and Ranler passed into the main room, where he kicked the ratty rug aside and pulled open an expertly concealed trap door. Kora peered down a rope ladder to total darkness.
“Does the League come here often?”
“Only in emergencies. It’s a good hideout.”
“It’s a dump,” Kora said, though she admitted to herself he had a point. To her surprise, the thief cracked a smile.
“Kansten’s dubbed it the Landfill.”
“The Landfill? But there’s nothing here.”
“This upper room used to have junk stacked to the ceiling. We sold it all. Well, not the lanterns, if that makes you feel better. They’re down below.”
“Where I guess we’re going.”
The space below, though cool and unfloored, was not uncomfortable. It was large, for one thing, a single room the size of the cabin above obstructed only by rough wooden pillars. The League had set a table aside and stacked it with blankets, which Kora laid out for seating as she and Ranler waited. Bendelof and Lanokas came after fifteen minutes. Kansten and Neslan were next. They all burned with questions that neither Kora nor Ranler felt qualified to answer. In fact, Ranler refused point blank to say a thing, so vehemently that he intimidated Kora. She too kept silent. Finally, after hours of tension, Laskenay and Sedder arrived with Menikas. Laskenay spoke as she pulled off her wig.
“The short of it is this: Malzin and three of her thugs ambushed me. Ranler and Kora were there. Kora, may I tell them?”
Jarred by Laskenay’s lack of ceremony, Kora nodded, while Sedder reached for her hand.
“Kora is a sorceress.” Bendelof’s eyes grew at least two sizes. Neslan, the only other person who had not already known, did a double take. “Zalski will know as much by day’s end. He found Wilhem to be a spy and will kill him tomorrow, that’s my guess, whether publicly or in the solitude of the Palace I’ve not heard.”
Eyes darted uncertainly from one person to the next. Kansten let out a heavy, dejected breath. Lanokas, leaning back against the wood plank wall, rubbed his forehead as though it ached. Menikas had an intense expression as he searched for some plausible course of action. He was the first to respond.
“I assume that by now Zalski knows we’re in Podrar?”
Kansten shot, “Why else would we be at the Landfill?” Menikas gave her the evil eye, and she took a step away from him.
“Wilhem’s risked a lot for us,” Bendelof announced. “We have to help him. We at least have to try.” To which Ranler replied:
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 12
