by Ken Scholes
Of course, there were other ways of protecting a son, and Rudolfo found more rage in that observation. Like negotiating a treaty and arranging your son’s chancellorship of a conquered Named Lands.
He shuddered.
The door leading to the stairs opened and a tall form ducked into the room, his face obscured by the hood of a dripping rain cloak.
“Gods,” he said. “This was a surprise.” Rudolfo knew the voice even as the hands pushed back the hood. Renard smiled. “Albeit a welcome surprise. What changed your mind?”
He hesitated, looking for the right words. “A friend went in my place. I’m going to ensure instead that there’s a home for my son to return to.”
Renard came to the table and sat. “I will pass the word.”
“I want to meet with Orius,” Rudolfo said. “Esarov, too.”
Renard blinked. “I don’t think meeting with Orius is going to be possible. And why Esarov?”
Rudolfo’s eye narrowed. “My resources are committed in this war, and I’m preparing to commit more. I’ll have parley with the Androfrancine general.” He paused while Renard poured a cup of chai, then splashed it with firespice. “And of course Esarov is involved. He used to be an Androfrancine before he took to the stage and to politics. I’ve no doubt he knew of Orius’s hidden army long before the rest of us did.”
Renard nodded slowly. “I will see what I can arrange. General Orius hasn’t left the Beneath Places since Windwir.”
“Good.” He hadn’t expected Renard specifically, but he was glad for the rangy Waste guide’s presence. “I also require ongoing use of at least two of your moon sparrows.”
Renard scowled. “Those are in short supply.”
Rudolfo leaned forward. “Couriers are not fast enough to coordinate what we have coming, and there is much work to do. I need the birds.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Rudolfo nodded. “Good. I have more.”
Renard chuckled and sipped his chai. “I’m sure you do.”
He nodded to Philemus. “I want my captain and half his men escorted from the city.” Rudolfo looked at his officer as he said it and watched the man’s jaw tense. “They’ll need scout powders and magicked horses.” Rudolfo met Philemus’s eyes. “I’m going to need my army brought south.”
The second captain nodded. “Aye, General.”
Rudolfo sat back and turned to Renard. “My conversations with Esarov and Orius will determine exactly what I do with that army.”
The Waste guide inclined his head. “I am glad you’re here, General.”
He uses my military title now. Rudolfo returned the gesture. “Those who aren’t dead will be driven from our lands once your weapon’s done its work. Until then the war must wage quietly.”
Renard smiled. “You’ve won us a great victory in that quiet war. Esarov’s employed bards to set your assassination of Yazmeera and her officers to music. The story’s being told in taverns and markets all along the coast and creeping inward every day.” The smile widened. “You are a hero of the people, Rudolfo. Or you will be once we’ve finished spreading the word.”
And three days ago I was a collaborator in their eyes. But it would be a good weapon in that quiet war, the one that turned the people’s hearts toward hope after so long under the cloud of war. And one he hoped would make his enemies all the more afraid, especially when the Androfrancines’ weapon took a surgical knife to the Y’Zirite’s military and spiritual leadership.
Rudolfo smiled. “Whatever serves our effort.”
Renard drained off the last of his cup and pushed back from the table. “I will go and pass word. You will be moved sometime within the next few hours to more comfortable accommodations in a manor outside of the city.”
Rudolfo stood as well. “Thank you, Renard.”
Renard walked to the door and paused, looking back at Rudolfo. “You must really trust this friend of yours. Had I a son in similar straits, I’m not sure I could entrust him to any but myself.”
Rudolfo felt the weight of his own words even as he said them. “I’m not sure of my path, Renard. But he is an extraordinary friend, and aye, he has my trust.” He paused. “He has earned it.”
Renard pulled his hood back up and opened the door. “Then I wish him well.” He tipped his head forward. “You and your men, too.” His smile was brief. “I’m glad you are here.”
Renard closed the door behind him, and Rudolfo gave the table another glance before retreating to a corner. He couldn’t remember when he’d slept last, and as uninviting as a blanket on the cold basement floor was, he would dream it to be his softest mattress on the summer balcony of his Third Forest Manor.
But as Rudolfo slipped into a light sleep, his dreams did not bring him comfort. Dark objects flew through darkened skies, and kin-wolves howled upon his heels. A dark-eyed boy wandered lost in a Whymer Maze of corpses, while a white tree the size of a world snowed seed upon the bloody ground.
Jin Li Tam
Jin Li Tam watched the building from the shadows of the alley and tried not to think about Rudolfo. But the news from Sister Elsbet kept intruding, even now as her Blood Guard took up their positions with knives drawn.
Rudolfo, my love, what have you done? He’d somehow poisoned the general responsible for overseeing the conquest of the Named Lands along with the senior staff and a half-squad of Blood Guard. And then escaped. If she knew the man, he was likely bound for Y’Zir, whether or not he had received her message. The idea of facing the man, meeting his eyes, being seen by him—it filled her with a dread that hurt her stomach.
Because I let my father kill our son.
She shuddered and forced her eyes back to the building. She called up her father’s face and eyes, pushing Rudolfo’s aside, and found her anger again. All night in the interrogation cell and they’d found their best lead. It was an old, abandoned building used by several Lunarist families along with their local elder, a man who had eluded the Y’Zirite authorities for decades. Her father was working with these people—it was exactly his kind of weapon—and they would know where he was. If he isn’t here hiding among them.
She checked her people again. Half of her squad was already magicked and ready, positioned at each exit to apprehend anyone fleeing the building. The other half were in place now, and she touched her throat, feeling the chain that held her phial of blood magicks. Once she used them, she had three, maybe four days to finish her work before they killed her. But she couldn’t bring herself to use them until she knew with certainty she was in reach of him.
She moved out of the alley and into the street, walking quickly toward the doors where three of her Blood Guard waited. She nodded as she approached, and one of the women brought the door down with a heavy kick. Then they were moving into the building as another three Blood Guard, these magicked and with knives drawn, swept in past them like a wind from the streets.
They entered a corridor lined with doors, and Jin paused as her ghosts slipped down it, opening each door carefully and checking within. Still, the only door that showed any light beneath it was at the end of the hall. Behind it, Jin heard quiet voices.
She stopped at the door and felt her magicked Blood Guard brush by. The others were close behind her now as well, and she paused to let them take the lead. At her nod, the door came down with a crash and they flooded the room with knives ready.
She followed after, her eyes sweeping the room for a familiar old man. Instead, she saw the slack-jawed, wide-eyed men, women and children huddled there. A few of the younger ones started to cry, and Jin felt the ache of it in her own body. Her hands went sweaty and she felt dizzy for a moment, fear tugging at her breath.
She’d not heard a child’s cry since … Nausea washed through her, making her knees weak. She took a slow, deep breath and forced calm into her voice. “I’m looking for Elder Reeve.”
Silence.
Jin looked around the room. “I’m also looking for an old man with a staff.�
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More silence, but with careful glances away. Two of the children had met her eyes, though, and those looks had told her what she needed to know.
“He’s been here,” she said. “Where did he go?” She looked around. “Where is Elder Reeve?”
Jin waited, her head throbbing at the idea of another night spent in the interrogation cell. “I would rather not have you all brought to the palace for questioning,” she said. “I care nothing for your religious practices. I only care about finding the old man.”
She looked from face to face, already calculating which would be the easiest to break, and waited for some kind of response. When none came she sighed. “You’ve left me no choice. Gather them up.”
Jin turned her back to leave, and a child’s voice rang out behind her. “You have a choice,” he said.
She turned, her eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”
He was four or five, possibly, and clinging to his father. “You always have a choice. It’s the first gift given.”
She stared at the child, then the father, and opened her mouth.
The ground suddenly shuddered, and a massive roar shook the walls and rattled the glass, throwing Jin off balance. She moved for the wall as the floor shook again. Outside, alarm bells clanged, and shrill whistles pierced the air.
“See them to the palace,” she said as she moved quickly down the corridor.
She let herself out into the street and saw a cloud of dust and debris rising from the edge of the city. She heard a roar from that direction that hurt her ears, and something massive leapt up from the cloud, hovered above it and dropped again. In the moment that it hovered, she recognized the beast.
She’s found him. Jin smiled and didn’t wait for her Blood Guard. She launched herself into a run, strength flowing through her. Certainly she wanted to end him herself. But watching someone else do it would be satisfactory if the outcome was the same. Still, if she was honest, she savored the idea of taking the magicks and finishing him, then being finished herself when they burned her out.
I would die strong, fast, avenged.
No, she realized. She would die invisible and alone. But he would be dead, too, and that was worth the price.
Jin Li Tam ran, stumbling and staggering as the ground continued to shake beneath her feet. The streets were littered with broken glass and scattered debris—some she suspected had landed here from elsewhere. Ahead of her, the dust cloud grew, and at the center of it, something silver flashed. She felt the sting of it now as the wind whipped at her eyes and she drew the phial from around her neck.
The wind became a roaring, and she realized it was the wings that stirred it up, blowing dirt and ash as the beast dropped again. Deep in the dust cloud, Jin saw lightning flash and heard a loud cry.
She lifted her voice against the wind. “Father?”
Jin pushed herself forward. She could see him now, the staff held in both hands as he swung it. The beast was on the ground, its wings tucked in, lunging forward with tooth and claw.
She cried out again. “Father?”
He looked at her this time, though he was too far away, too obscured by the dust, for her to read his expression. She heard a crack and saw another flash of lightning as the staff connected and the beast leaped back.
She slowed to a walk. I should wait and see how she fares. Still, her fingers tugged at the stopper.
The beast lunged again, and this time, her father leaped forward to bring the staff down hard upon its broad silver forehead. There was a flash and a loud cracking sound as the dragon split open and the woman inside of it fell out. A loud shriek drove Jin to her knees, and she forced her eyes open as her father swung the staff again and the massive silver beast threw itself into the sky, fleeing at top speed.
The girl lay still, and Vlad Li Tam’s eyes went from her to Jin.
She could see his face now, and for the briefest moment, she saw some combination of sorrow and weariness before it became a mask of calm. She took another step forward and he raised the staff.
“Stay back, Daughter,” he said.
Jin unstopped the phial and drained it, feeling the fire move from her throat to her belly, out into her fingertips and the tips of her hair. “Oh no, Father,” the forty-second daughter of Vlad Li Tam answered. “I’ll not stay back any longer.”
And then, drawing her knives, she fell upon him.
Vlad Li Tam
Vlad Li Tam barely had time to lift the staff before the storm of his enraged daughter’s blades was upon him. He felt his purchase on the silver steel grow slippery with sweat as he tightened his grip and parried her blows. All while stepping around the unconscious woman the creature had left at his feet.
It had all happened fast, too fast, and as he worked the staff to stay alive he tried to lay hold of exactly what had transpired. He’d been out with Elder Reeve, on his way to meet with the Lunarists’ mysterious benefactor, when the giant metal beast had descended upon him with a roar from on high.
In all his years, he’d seen nothing like it, though he’d seen his share of mechanical wonders. This creature was different from Rufello’s re-creations. It was easily the size of a small house, with two pairs of wings and six legs. It had a short neck and a wide head set with large black eyes. Its mouth was lined with teeth like long knives. And yet the entire creature was made of a silver so bright it hurt his eyes.
Its landing had shaken the ground, tumbling Vlad from his feet, and even as he used the staff to find his balance, the long tail snaked out to drop him again.
Vlad felt fear flooding him, and the force of it was surprising. Still, he breathed that fear in and out, clutching the staff and begging it to give him strength.
He’d landed a few tentative blows before the staff began to sing in his hands, and as its song built, he sensed a release coming. It sparked now in a way that it hadn’t before, hot within his hands, and he felt that heat moving through his body. Lunging forward, Vlad brought the staff down upon the base of the creature’s skull and heard the cracking sound even as the lightning blinded him.
When he blinked at the ground before him, a woman lay unconscious there, and the beast that had carried her was gone.
But the end of one ambush was simply the beginning of another. He’d suspected that his daughter would come after him, but when he looked up and saw her watching him, her face twisted with open hatred, it was as surprising to him as the creature that had dropped from the sky. And when she’d unstopped the small phial and poured its contents into her mouth, he’d known exactly what she was doing, and it cut him deeper than her knives could have.
What have you done? He meant the question as much for himself as he did for her. After all, he was the one who’d brought her to this point. His actions had assured her hatred of him, and now she’d ingested Y’Zirite blood magicks … something she knew as well as he did would ultimately kill her just as they’d killed her sister, Rae Li Tam. The irony that Rae had taken the blood magicks to save Vlad’s life and Jin had taken them to end it was not lost on him.
He wanted to talk to her, to lower his voice and speak in reassuring, fatherly tones to her, but Vlad found it was all he could do to keep her knives at bay. He felt them catching and cutting at his robes as she pressed him back and away from the fallen woman.
He squeezed the staff and was able to make out the blurred shape of her despite the magicks at work. He could see none of the detail of her face, but he’d sparred with her enough as a child to remember the way her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared when she was in the heat of battle. And he knew that she would not stop until he was dead.
Or until I kill her.
Neither was an option for him, and the only other alternative was not something he was certain of. When he’d stormed the palace, he’d been able to pull the blood magicks out of the imperial guard, feeding those magicks to the staff. But he’d ripped the magicks free of them with no thought or concern about the impact it might have upon their bo
dies. Some he’d outright killed in the effort, and others he’d left writhing and shrieking upon the palace floor.
“Stop,” he said, his voice a ragged gasp, the staff sparking against the steel in her invisible knives.
She pressed on and he parried again, this time testing the dark aura her magicks cast over her blurred image. He closed his eyes and used his mind to pull, his feet moving to the steps of her dance.
It was like lifting a wet and heavy sail; it resisted in ways that the others hadn’t, and he opened his eyes. Then he tugged harder, feeling it give the tiniest amount.
Growling, he moved to the left and swung the staff, connecting with her leg. She buckled, and he pulled the magicks out of her, watching her blurred image take on definition and form as he did. And as he did it, the staff burned hot in his hands as it fed on those magicks. Wave after wave of euphoria pushed at him even as his legs threatened to give out.
Jin Li Tam fell to the ground, gasping and seizing, and his first impulse was to slide down beside her, take her into his arms and soothe her. But he knew better. Instead, he crouched and looked up and down the street, his breath ragged and his eyes wide. She flopped onto her stomach, hands still scrambling for her knives. He used the staff to move them out of her reach, then went back to watching.
He saw the magicked Blood Guard as she came around the corner, and he felt the heat once again as he ripped the magicks from her, sending the woman careening into the side of a building before she stumbled and fell still on the street.
There will be more.
A guttural noise at his feet brought his attention back to Jin. It was a despairing sound, part sob and part scream, as she stretched herself out upon the ground and crawled for her knives.
