“Well?” he said.
Her voice nearly stuck in her throat. “I’m Kora Porteg. It’s noon.”
“It’s past noon,” he corrected, but opened the gate. Kora grew more disconcerted than ever when three of the guards led her up the colonnade, one before her, two behind—surely, one would have sufficed?—but there was nothing to do but move her feet. To ease the pressure in her chest she reminded herself why she had come, and she had wits enough about her to smile reassuringly at the children’s parents as she passed. One woman reached out and squeezed her hand, God bless her. Just for that moment, Kora’s breath came unrestricted.
The statues were mostly of old kings, with one or two queens among their ranks. At least, Kora thought they were the kings; the ones that she could see wore crowns. Considering the statues, she did not expect the great wooden doors to have Zalski’s symbol carved across them, but they did. Her escort knocked five times in some kind of coded rhythm, and the barrier opened to admit him. Kora followed, two guards still at her heels, into a marble-floored, domed area clearly designed to impress. A gold chandelier hung from the ceiling, the tallest Kora had ever seen. A twisting, velvet-carpeted staircase rose three flights. The men’s boots sounded sharply with each step as they quickened their pace.
The party passed through the first of five sets of double doors in the vestibule’s back. They entered a hall, a narrow one; the same rich fabric that covered the staircase ran its length. Between the men in front of and behind her, and the walls that stood not six inches from either shoulder, Kora had the distinct impression of being trapped: which, she told herself, was exactly what Zalski had intended.
They turned into another corridor, where a pair of quartz crystals hung on the otherwise naked wall. The stones began to glow as the lead guard drew near. When he stopped before one of a series of black doors with silver handles, the action was so abrupt Kora nearly tread on him. As he raised his fist to knock, a man inside commanded him to enter. Kora’s heart skipped a beat at the disembodied voice, but she hardly had time to notice, such a blur was the moment they all shuffled in, when Kora received her first glimpse of Zalski.
He was much like Kora had imagined: tall, like his sister, with her inky hair and ice blue eyes, though his were less bright. To see him on the street, Kora doubted she would have known him. He wore a simple tunic, classic blue, in perfect condition, and unfaded trousers that put Kora’s frock to shame. He had better muscle tone than anyone Kora could remember, except perhaps Wilhem, and rose from his armchair quite at his ease.
The room was a kind of parlor, and surprisingly homey considering the hall’s austerity. Someone—Malzin?—had decorated with a black and silver theme to match the door. Chairs, some cushioned but all ornately carved, cluttered the space with the help of a matching settee and a pair of end tables. A tapestry depicting the sorcerer’s triangle set off the mantle.
Zalski sent the guards off with a wave. The next thing Kora knew, she was alone with the man who had ordered the deaths of her best friend’s parents. They stared at one another, Kora with a lump in her stomach, Zalski sizing her up.
“Miss Porteg.”
“Zalski Forzythe, no?”
“I trust you noticed the crystals in the hallway?”
“I did,” said Kora, confused. “A pair of them.”
“One of my recent innovations: the crystals mark an approaching party through the sound waves that travel up the wall. Quartz is remarkably sensitive to such vibrations. I’ve placed it strategically throughout the Palace. When the crystals register passage, I know it. One can never be too cautious.”
Was he warning her? Trying to frighten her? “No, I suppose one can’t.”
“Forgive the public nature of my invitation. Had I been able to contact you privately, I’d have done so. I’m delighted to meet….”
“Not the Marked One?” The words ran off her tongue before she realized she had said them. When they registered in her brain, she forced herself to keep talking. “That would make your reign the darkest hour of Herezoth.”
Zalski smirked and nodded his approval, whether of her wit or her daring she was not quite sure. She did not expect that reaction from him, but it did away with her dread. His air was informal, breezy. He indicated for her to take a seat, which she did, and returned to the chair he had vacated.
“I had planned to call you a fellow sorcerer. Old wives’ tales hold little interest to me.”
“Where I’m from, most call the appearance of the Marked One a legend.”
“I am not superstitious, then. Surely you haven’t the gall to consider yourself the One of legend?”
“Of course not. I’ve never claimed to be and never will. I’m a woodworker’s daughter.”
“Yet some, I imagine, would thrust the title on you.”
“That’s why I’m careful to hide the jewel.”
Zalski let her remark sink in; a pensive air enveloped him, and Kora judged he was evaluating the speed with which she deflected his allusion to the Crimson League. She hardly expected him to let that subject go, and sure enough, he reminisced:
“My sister was always well-versed in legend.”
“Laskenay strikes me as an avid reader. She has since I’ve known her.”
“Ah,” said Zalski, nodding again. “I’d been wondering if she’d told you we’re related.”
Kora bit her bottom lip, unsure if she had let something out she would better have kept to herself. “Why am I here?” she demanded.
“First, I’m curious as to how a girl like you ran across a ruby, and how that ruby found itself attached to the front of your face. You don’t strike me as ambitious enough to paste it there and go masquerading as the people’s only hope. And you’re of humble enough origins, you’ll admit that yourself. You already have, in fact.”
Kora conquered the urge to shiver, but her tone revealed the insecurities she had somehow been masking since he first addressed her. “You know all about my origins, don’t you?”
“I’m not generally one to sit idle.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve researched me. I’m sorry, but I didn’t come here to fill in the blanks.”
Her refusal to discuss the ruby seemed no more than Zalski anticipated, and he prompted, his voice kind, “You might consider whether I could help you remove the gem.”
To see she had not angered him helped Kora’s courage wax again. She said, “I should thank you, I suppose. Though I’ll be honest, I don’t believe for a second you make that offer from the goodness of your heart. When I decide I need your help, I’ll let you know.”
Zalski remained patient. “I think you just might need me. But that brings me to the other purpose of your visit: I want to make it clear I understand some things about you. You didn’t wish to be the object of such a…. Shall we call it a regrettable misidentification? You ran across the Crimson League by chance. They insisted you needed protection. You are young, and you believed them. I don’t hold that against you, not after my imbecile of a guardsman shot an arrow at you for no real cause. The truth is, I wish to see you flourish. To grow in confidence as well as ability.”
“Under your guidance, no?”
“I could teach you much.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
“More than Laskenay,” said Zalski. “My sister claims to be fighting to save Herezoth. If she succeeds, will Herezoth thank her? It will scorn her as a sorceress, force her to live alone, if not in hiding. You’ll be no different. You are marked, Miss Porteg, and not by the ruby on your forehead. By the power you possess. This kingdom will not stand by you. You’re a fool if you imagine for one second that it might. I will.”
Kora gripped the arms of her chair so hard hers ached, though Zalski’s offer did not surprise her. The whole League had anticipated it. This had been the fly in the Landfill’s basement the night before, the annoying, incessant drone in everyone’s head that nobody, even Menikas, had dared to mention.
; “Let’s be open, shall we? Serve Herezoth by standing at my side instead of destroying public squares, and you’ll have pardon for your crimes heretofore committed: that includes yesterday’s shenanigans. Your family’s debt to the state will disappear in payment of your loyalty. I shan’t even require a word from you concerning my sister and her cohorts, should that assuage your conscience. They’ve taken horrid advantage of you, Miss Porteg, but you need not avenge yourself. No harm need come to them at your hand unless you wish it. I am perfectly capable of destroying them without your aid.”
And Kora with them, should she turn him down. That was his implication.
Kora had dreaded this moment like Wilhem must have dreaded every coming instant once Malzin grazed his arm. Now that the offer had come, anger infused her; hatred hardened her. She had been terrified Zalski’s gift of security, of basic needs and comforts, would prove too much to reject. If not for the children, she would never have come. She trusted herself that little. Now a life free from hiding was actually in her grasp, and Kora felt no temptation to reach for it. She only felt a loathing of Zalski’s hypocrisy.
“You’d stand by me from this point out,” she conceded. “The problem is, I’ve a past to consider, not just the future. My father was murdered in cold blood on a public road. Your soldiers never found his killers. They were too busy crossing names off your hit list. Did you stand by me then? You would have, wouldn’t you, only then you didn’t know I could cast a spell.
“You had no interest in my prospects last year, even last month. Well, I have none in you now. I don’t want my name linked with yours. An old friend of mine, close to starving, was arrested for stealing something to eat, and you threw his life away like he was a cockroach. I can’t work in your administration after that. I won’t even speak of the Fodens, of the fifteen children you tore from their families.”
The sorcerer remained unperplexed. “I have no intention to harm those children.”
“You’ve no right to rip families apart.”
“Those people can’t afford to raise their children, not if they can’t pay the smallest part of the monthly tax. Our youth deserves warm clothing, adequate food.”
“That’s not what this is about. If it were, you wouldn’t give them back to their parents.”
“I’m forgiving the parents their debts, Miss Porteg. So they’ll no longer have to choose between taxes and coats.”
“They were choosing coats before, though. They weren’t paying taxes.”
Zalski asked, “What do you imagine I’ve done, stripped the children of their rags? Chained them to a wall?”
“I’m sure you haven’t touched a hair on their heads. That doesn’t mean I want to be your protégée.”
“I expected as much. You’ve been too long with Laskenay, there’s the problem. Had I come across you first….”
“You flatter yourself.”
“Yes, I’m beginning to think I do.”
Zalski narrowed his eyes, his first expression of true discontent. Even so, Kora’s reborn resolve did not splinter, not until his stare was coupled with the turn of the doorknob. She was sure the guard would arrest her, or prevent her exit while Zalski took care of her himself.
Malzin appeared in the doorway, clad in a gown that hung off her shoulder, the top half of her white-blonde hair pinned at her neck.
“Miss Porteg, I don’t believe you were properly introduced to….”
“We’ve met,” said the newcomer. She ambled in with a disgusted glance at Kora, without condescending to speak with the girl. “She’s refused, has she?”
“It would seem that way,” said Zalski, turning back to his guest. “Though I assure you, Miss Porteg, you have nothing to fear from me today. Nor from my wife,” he added, with a significant glance at Malzin. “I promised you a safe exit, and you’ll have one. Always take me at my word. That’s a luxury you can ill afford elsewhere.”
“You mean the League? Laskenay told me you were twins.”
Malzin scoffed. “After some display of sorcery from you, I’d imagine. I know dear Laskenay. She kept herself clammed up before then.”
Kora shot, “She clammed you up fairly easily, if I remember.”
Zalski’s wife almost shook with rage, but did not dare speak over her husband. A wave of uncomfortable heat washed over Kora, not because of Malzin, but because of how closely the sorcerer’s next sentiments echoed Sedder’s, though they lacked Sedder’s confrontational delivery.
“Do you imagine those lawless companions you keep have no more secrets? My dear girl, secrets are their business. Their lives depend on secrets.”
“They’ve given me no reason not to trust them.”
“Then maybe I can have the honor: where Laskenay goes, there should be two brothers. I don’t know what names they gave you. They’re blond, telekinetic. You may or may not have known that last.”
Goosebumps cropped up Kora’s arms. “What about them?”
“What have they told you about their pasts?”
“That they were nobles. That the older one was a friend of yours.”
Zalski nodded. “The crown prince was a friend of mine.”
“The crown….” Kora’s face went white. “The king’s two sons.”
She felt like a fool to have been told by Zalski. She should have guessed it from the start. Who more likely for the prince’s playmate than the son of his father’s adviser? Menikas had started the Crimson League, and all Herezoth knew the color of the royal family’s crest: that is, the color of the lion’s half, not the lamb’s. Two brothers of noble birth, their parents lost in Zalski’s coup….
Zalski himself said, “I’ll leave you to figure the implications. Malzin?”
“I’ll get the brats,” she said, and with a triumphant air left the room. Neither Kora nor Zalski spoke at first while she was gone; Kora’s mind was too full of what Lanokas had hidden from her even to mark the silence. Yes, she blamed Lanokas, though his brother was head of the League, the dead king’s successor, and logically the one at fault. Since their first midnight chat she had trusted Lanokas more than his companions. Laskenay, with no ill intent, let emotions influence her judgment, but Lanokas, combining boldness with sense, emotion with rationality, Lanokas she never dreamed would pile layers of significance beneath his words.
Hang Lanokas, he doesn’t matter. I still haven’t asked about….
“My family,” said Kora. “Please understand, my brother’s eleven. Eleven. And my mother broke no laws, not one.”
“Except the tax code,” said Zalski. “Your family’s disappeared. Gone into hiding, I imagine. In two weeks your mother will owe enough to be thrown in debtor’s prison, and that’s where she’ll go if she’s found.”
Kora’s eyes grew wide. “Just don’t harm her. Please, don’t let anyone harm her.”
“Why on earth would I harm the woman?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know, why did your guard try to shoot me outside Hogarane? What had I done? I beg you, don’t hurt my family!”
Malzin returned with the same three guards who had earlier led Kora in. She told her husband the children waited in the vestibule, and Zalski rose to dismiss his guest, his voice curt.
“You are the criminal of your bloodline, not Ilana. And I assure you, you won’t find me this obliging when next we meet. Now get out of my palace.”
Kora needed no second telling. She followed the guards with her mind far away, centered on Lanokas with mixed anger and shame. Her family she could do nothing about, but Lanokas….
The children huddled in the vestibule. The youngest was a boy maybe four. Kora offered her hand to the one who looked most frightened, a freckle-faced seven or eight-year-old girl who shied from her, as the guards opened the heavy oaken doors. The children sprinted to their parents, most as fast as their legs would take them. Only Kora held a normal pace, forging the mental coherence to take the long way back to the Landfill and make sure she was not followed.
No one waited in the lower room but Bendelof and Neslan, the first of whom threw her arms around Kora, almost knocking the tattered book away that Neslan was reading by lamplight.
“We were starting to worry,” said Neslan. “How did it go?”
“Where’s Lanokas?”
Neslan’s perplexed stare did not pass for a response, so Bendelof said, “He’s getting his things, just like everyone else. You’re leaving for Yangerton at dusk.”
The tidings made Kora realize how exhausted she was. She forgot about Lanokas, for the moment. “You aren’t coming with us?”
“I’m staying with Neslan. To keep an eye on Zalski’s guard. We have a couple of people in the army, but they can’t waste time spying on the elites. They have to work themselves up the system. We’re sitting ducks until they do, and that’ll take two years, assuming they don’t get caught.”
“How in the world will you watch the elite guard?”
“Not watch,” said Bendelof. “Follow home. Search their houses when no one’s there.”
Kora’s look of confusion gave Neslan some serious competition. “That sounds like a job for Ranler,” she said.
Bennie told her, “Ranler’s taught me a thing or two. He took me under his wing the moment I met him. I didn’t like the work at first, and I still don’t, that’s the truth. Thieving skills don’t sit well with me.” Bendelof’s girlish voice turned bitter. “We needed someone besides Ranler for stealth jobs, that’s what Laskenay said, though she still hasn’t let me go on one alone. They don’t think I can handle it. None of them do. I’m astounded the chiefs are letting me stay here. Ranler must’ve talked them into it, because his opinion holds weight, at least with Menikas.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” said Kora.
“I’m not sure if I should be proud or ashamed, but I can pick any lock in Podrar in under three minutes.”
Kora stared at the small-framed, red-headed amateur thief. Bendelof was the youngest of the group. Uneducated. Kora wondered briefly whether she knew Menikas was a prince; then her surprise at discovering Bennie a thief-in-training pushed all other wonderings away.
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 15
