Stormcaster

by Cinda Williams Chima

  It was still raining, and harder now, which was a good excuse for them all to be wearing cloaks, plus likely to discourage gawkers from being out in the streets. Did Karn arrange for that, too? Hal wondered. Now he could see that the temple was on fire, the armory was burning, and smoke was billowing up from the barracks. Civilians were running past him, away from the armory, while blackbirds and soldiers were running toward it. This meant that nobody was looking in on the ballroom or noticing people emerging from the servants’ entrance.

  Hal poked his head back into the pantry. “It’s clear,” he said. “Send them out, and when I have half of them, I’ll take them to Newgate. You bring the other half. Pretend you’re running to safety.”

  Hal waited by the door, and as the families poured through, like a cloud of black wraiths in their cloaks, he instructed them to take their masks off and hide them underneath. One of them didn’t bother to remove her mask, but flung her arms around Hal and buried her face in his shoulder.

  Harper.

  “Everyone said you were dead,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears.

  Hal patted her back, his own cheeks suspiciously wet, but maybe that was just the rain. “Not yet,” he said.

  When he’d counted twenty-five, he called in to Robert, “I have twenty-five, including Mother and Harper, which means you should have twenty-two, including babies and children. Count them carefully, and when you have everyone, follow me to Newgate.”

  Hal set out for Karn’s private prison with his charges. He found that it was more like a cat-herding expedition than a forced march. The children broke away and stomped through puddles. They threw their heads back, catching raindrops on their tongues. Mothers and older sisters chased them down, edging them back onto the proper path. As he watched, Harper scooped up a four-year, parking him on her hip and walking him back to the others.

  They haven’t been outside for three months, Hal thought, his anger rising. Harper’s been looking out for these little ones all this time.

  When they passed the postern gate, it was clotted with blackbirds, armed to the teeth, questioning and searching everyone who passed through. The explosions had been a good distraction, drawing soldiers and guards away, but now getting out was going to be a problem.

  When they reached Newgate, Lila Barrowhill was there at the gate, directing them into the small courtyard just inside. As they passed through, Hal counted, and then he counted Robert’s lot when they arrived. They seemed to have one extra person.

  Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He swung around and saw that it was Queen Marina and her daughter, the princess Madeleine, cloaked up like the others.

  “Young Matelon,” she said. “I thought that was you. I’m so glad to see that rumors of your death were exaggerated.”

  “Your Majesty,” Hal said, totally ambushed. “I didn’t—what are you doing here?”

  “I planned this party, remember,” the queen said. “Jarat is more like his father every day—looking for someone to blame for his failures. I’d rather he blame me for the hostages’ escape than Destin. And I really need to get Madeleine away from Ardenscourt before her brother matches her with some monster.”

  But now that the queen and her daughter had joined them, there should be forty-nine in all. There were only forty-eight.

  Following them through the gate, he counted again. Someone was missing.

  His mother grabbed his arm, her face pale and strained. “Have you seen Harper? She was with us, and—I don’t know what happened to her. Do you think she wandered off?”

  They both knew better. Harper had too much common sense to wander off—not now.

  “I’ll look for her,” Hal said, turning back toward the gate, to find someone standing in the gap. Two someones.

  It was Luc Granger, with a knife to Harper’s throat.

  47

  DOUBLE-CROSS

  “Well, now,” Granger said. “How does it happen that, in the confusion after the explosions, the families of the rebellious thanes end up here—at the entrance to Lieutenant Karn’s private prison? Before you passed through the gate, I was able to intercept young Lady Matelon. When I attempted to question her, the little minx pulled a knife on me.” He scanned the crowd. “Now. Where is Lieutenant Karn? He has some explaining to do.”

  Harper had her narrow-eyed, scheming face on. Please, Harper, Hal thought. Don’t make any sudden moves.

  “She’s just a child,” his mother said. “You cannot blame her for trying to defend herself when she is attacked in the streets.”

  “Where she shouldn’t have been in the first place,” Granger said. “An attack on a member of the nobility is a serious offense. It’s a shame, because I’d hoped that—well, so very disappointing.” His smug expression belied his words.

  “Let her go, Granger,” Queen Marina said, taking a step toward them.

  “Your Majesty!” Granger said. “And little Princess Madeleine. Curiouser and curiouser.” He didn’t look curious, though. He looked delighted.

  “My lord,” Hal said. “I think you are misunderstanding what you see. My corporal directed us to escort these women and children here to Newgate where they could be safely held until we have identified and neutralized the threat.” The tactical language, at least, came easily to Hal.

  “Is that your story?” Granger’s confidence dwindled a bit, but only just. “Well, we’ll see. Guillaume should be back at any moment with the King’s Guard.”

  “In the meantime, Lord Granger, why not allow them to go inside, out of the rain,” Hal said. “If any of them fall ill, my corporal will have my ass.”

  Granger licked his lips. “Everybody stays here,” he said, “until we sort this out.” He looked around again. “Where the hell is Karn?”

  “Ow!” Harper cried. “You cut me!”

  It all happened in a split second. The startled Granger dropped his blade hand away enough that Harper was able to twist in his one-armed grip, seize his hand with both of hers, and plunge the blade into his neck, leaning in so it penetrated all the way to the hilt.

  Robert, who’d been edging closer the entire time, barreled into Granger, knocking the thaneling onto his back on the cobblestones, where he lay, both hands scrabbling at the knife, blood bubbling from his mouth.

  Hal leapt to help his brother, but there was no need. Granger was gone.

  “Now he looks disappointed,” Robert growled, “the greedy, gutter-swiving, ass-licking—”

  “Language, Robert,” Lady Matelon said. She stood over them, one arm around Harper, who was pale as parchment, shaking so that her teeth rattled together.

  “Are you all right, Harper?” Hal sat back on his heels, looking up at her. “Did he cut you?”

  “I’m fine.” Harper’s voice trembled, just a little. When several of the lýtlings began to cry, she forced a smile and said, “Don’t worry. The bad man won’t hurt us.”

  They shouldn’t be here, Hal thought. Children should never have to witness a scene like this.

  “Speaking of surviving the night, we’ve got to go.” It was Karn’s friend Lila. “Everyone! Into the building. Now, before the bad man’s friends show up!”

  Hal and Robert exchanged glances. It seemed very strange to be rushing back into prison when they had gone to so much trouble to get out. Was this just some kind of new trap or power play by Destin Karn, who’d been notably absent since the explosion? Was he trying to gain custody of the hostages for his own murky purposes?

  They had no choice, really. Leaving Granger lying in the street, they entered the prison, crossing the threshold, into which was carved: The Truth Shall Make You Free. They descended several staircases, each level danker, the air thicker and more oppressive. Harper gripped Hal’s arm, leaned close, and murmured, “Don’t tell me we’re going back to the Pit?”

  “We’d better not be,” Hal said, with a dark look at Lila.

  Eventually, they seemed to hit bottom, and then struck out horizontally into what now s
eemed to be a natural cave, only lightly shaped by the hand of man. At one turning, Lila pulled a large crate from an alcove in the wall, unlocked it, and handed a dozen torches to those in the lead. They were flashcraft, and began to glow as soon as they were lifted from the crate.

  Some of the lýtlings began to fuss. Their mothers pressed on grimly, carrying their children if necessary. Hal and Robert ended up carrying two of Lady Heresford’s four children. Hal had long since accepted the fact that they were so far in, there was no going back. With the distance they’d traveled, at least it was unlikely they were still anywhere near Citadel Hill.

  Finally the tunnel sloped upward, in some places growing so steep that steps had been carved into the cave floor. The air freshened and became noticeably cooler and drier.

  Finally, Queen Marina came up beside Hal. “Lady DeLacroix really cannot go much farther, and your mother is struggling, too. If we collapse, then it’s going to slow us down considerably. We need to say something. If we still have miles to go, we’re going to need to stop for a rest.”

  Hal nodded, though at this point he wasn’t exactly sure who was in charge of this enterprise—he or Barrowhill or the queen.

  He was threading his way forward toward Lila when he noticed that the oppressive darkness was thinning, the walls to either side becoming visible, even beyond the reach of the torchlight. They were obviously nearing an opening to the outside. It wasn’t bright—likely the sun hadn’t yet risen.

  As the others began to notice, some of them put on speed, children tugging at their mothers’ hands, stumbling over rocks in their eagerness for the long, scary journey through the dark to end. Up ahead, Lila stopped, turned, and waited for them to catch up.

  When the entire group was gathered, Lila said, “This is where we surface. We should be outside the city, beyond whatever perimeter the King’s Guard has put up. I need everyone to wait here while I check and make sure our transportation is ready to go.”

  “I’m thirsty,” a little boy whined.

  “Don’t worry,” Lila said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “They’ll have food and drink for you.” She disappeared through the cave entrance.

  She wasn’t gone long, but by the time she returned, some of the lýtlings had curled up on the floor or on their mothers’ laps and gone fast asleep.

  “All right,” Lila said. “The wagons are just outside. Each one holds about ten people. There’s room for everyone. I want families to stay together and board the same wagon. We need to be well on our way before the sun comes up.”

  As the families began trickling toward the door, Hal took hold of Lila’s elbow. “Well on our way where? Where are we going?”

  Lila cocked her head. “Didn’t you talk to Lieutenant Karn about that?”

  “He’s been tight-lipped,” Hal said. “He’s told us just enough to get this far.”

  Lila shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him. I’m just the hired help.” She rubbed her thumb and fingers together, signifying payment.

  Hal’s temper was fraying. “I would like to ask him, but I haven’t seen him since the blasts went off.” He followed Lila out of the cave to find himself in a pitch-dark copse of trees at the bottom of a ravine. He could hear water running somewhere nearby, and the soft nickering of horses.

  Where were they? It was hard to judge how far they’d traveled in the dark.

  Lila pointed them down the ravine to where it opened up into an abandoned farmyard. The house had long since been burned. The barn and outbuildings were still standing, though, and four wagons were lined up, each with a team of four sturdy mountain ponies.

  The wagons were enclosed, so as to keep passengers out of the weather and out of sight of prying eyes. They resembled the wagons used by clan traders to transport their goods—something rarely seen in the empire these days.

  The first family was climbing into the first wagon. The driver was muffled in a scarf and coat that seemed too heavy for the weather. He’d placed a step next to the wagon to make it easier to climb in. As each one passed, he handed him or her a wrapped bundle and a deerskin flask—the promised water.

  As each wagon filled, it pulled away, rolling down the farm lane and disappearing into the trees.

  “This doesn’t look familiar,” Hal said, touching Robert’s arm. “Do you know where we are?”

  Robert shrugged. “We should be on our way to Temple Church to join Father and the others. So I’m guessing we’re somewhere north of the city.”

  “Maybe,” Hal said. “But I’ve been up and down the North Road between Ardenscourt and Delphi way too many times. I don’t remember seeing a stretch this remote.” He squinted up at the sky, but between the sodden clouds and the canopy of trees he couldn’t get a fix on their location. The rain seemed to muffle sounds, the mist lending an air of risk and mystery.

  “Well,” Robert said. “We wouldn’t want to come up too close to the road, would we? It’s probably just that—”

  Hal put his hand up. “Hang on. Isn’t that the last of the wagons?”

  Robert stared as the wagon rounded the curve and disappeared. “Hey!” he said, running a few steps after it until he must have realized it was no use.

  Hal turned to find Barrowhill striding toward them. “That’s the last of them,” she said. “The queen and the princess are with them. Let’s hope they don’t run into any trouble along the way.”

  “We were supposed to go with them,” Hal said. “Isn’t that what we agreed on?”

  “My agreement is with Lieutenant Karn,” Barrowhill said, brow furrowed. “I thought he’d have filled you in.”

  “No,” Hal said through gritted teeth. “He did not fill us in.”

  “You mean you got into this without really knowing the plan?” Barrowhill shook her head. “That’s never a good idea.”

  Automatically, Hal thrust out an arm to prevent Robert from leaping forward and throttling her. “What is the plan?” he said.

  “Well.” Barrowhill looked from Hal to Robert. “It’s not really my place to— Look! Here he is now.”

  Destin Karn materialized from among the trees like a black-clad wraith.

  48

  DOUBLE DOUBLE-CROSS

  In his blackbird cloak, Karn looked sharp and deadly as an obsidian blade. Hal was feeling fairly deadly himself.

  “I met the wagons on the road, so I’m glad to see that our guests are on their way,” the spymaster said. “A good night’s work, and the only casualty was poor Granger. I was so impressed by young Lady Harper. If she ever expresses an interest in—”

  “Where have you been?” Hal demanded. “Where are my mother and sister and the rest of the families? Robert and I were supposed to escort them to White Oaks.”

  “They’re not going directly to White Oaks,” Karn said. “But, don’t worry, they will be safe and comfortable—and out of the king’s hands. That will free everyone to negotiate in good faith.”

  “If you meant to double-cross us, why not just leave us to rot in Newgate?” Robert said, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  At that particular moment, mage or no mage, Hal was ready to draw his own sword and make the spymaster bleed, to the Breaker with the consequences.

  “How have I double-crossed you?” Karn said, with a puzzled frown. “We had a common goal—to take the hostages out of the hands of Jarat Montaigne, and we have done that. No doubt he’ll be more amenable to striking a deal with the thanes with his bargaining power diminished.”

  “It seems to me that your goal was to take the hostages out of the king’s hands and take custody of them yourself,” Hal said. “For what purpose, I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

  “That’s easy enough,” Karn said. “I’ll tell you. But first, let me ask you a question. What is likely to happen if the hostage families are returned to the thanes?”

  We’ll all live happily ever after? Hal thought. I can take an army north?

  “Will your father and his allies be more likely to come
to the table?” Karn persisted.

  Hal wanted to say yes, but he knew in his bones that wasn’t true. He shook his head. “Freed of worry about the hostages, the thanes will march on Ardenscourt and depose the king sooner rather than later.”

  “Won’t that be nice? Maybe your father will be crowned king. King Arschel,” Karn said, as if savoring the phrase. “You and Robert can be princes. Though Matelon had better watch his back. I happen to know that the DeLacroix family is moving behind the scenes to make sure that it’s King Pascal. In fact, an attack on the capital could be the starting point for a new civil war. Meanwhile, the empress is marching. As things stand, I suspect whoever wins will have a very short reign.”

  Hal thought of the harbor at Chalk Cliffs, full of the empress’s ships, of the beaches teeming with horse soldiers, and he had to agree.

  “I know your father has a policy against giving in to the demands of hostage-takers,” Karn said. “He won’t accept an unsatisfactory deal on account of them. And Jarat would never offer a reasonable deal as long as he held the hostages. It will be my job to convince Jarat to offer terms that the thanes can accept. The fact that his mother and sister are with the hostages might help that case. It will be your job to persuade the thanes to sign on.”

  “I’m a soldier,” Hal protested, “not a diplomat.”

  “Who better to convince an old warrior like your father?” Karn said.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Hal said. “It doesn’t matter who’s holding the hostages. It just means that he’ll be even more determined to hold you accountable.”

  “Perhaps some of the other thanes will be more receptive,” Karn said. “To be honest, I am not close to the young king. As spymaster for the kingdom, it will be my fault that the hostages escaped. By the time Jarat realizes that he needs me—or, at least someone smarter than Granger—I’ll have taken my bow on Executioner’s Hill.”