No, this wouldn’t do.
She took on a stern tone. “Don’t ever waste my time like this. I said describe it. Every detail.”
“His guts were torn from his body, my lady. His wrists were broken and arms tied. Whoever did this was strong. A finger not his own was stuffed into his mouth. It had a ruby ring with a stamp of the House of Afonso. Another victim of this Marcus. But the castle is safe. Your person is safe.”
“Yes, yes. We’re all safe, aren’t we? That’s enough. Thank you. Now where’s my nephew?
The captain licked his lips. “He left the castle after the incident with the chef. I detailed two guards with him.”
“Has he returned?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, send messengers out. Tell him the city’s too dangerous for him. Tell him I need him. I have a very busy morning and require his presence.”
He bowed and hurried off.
She let out a long sigh. She’d figure out what to do with the captain later. Perhaps that corporal was due for a promotion.
So where had Jamie gone? The thought of him out on the streets with the murderer intrigued her. What fool brave thing was he planning? With his Isabel in the castle, anything was possible.
But there would be time for indulging such thoughts later. For now, she had meetings.
“Rochus? Is the master carpenter here?”
The steward entered from the hall, dipped his head, and brought in the carpenter. The man bowed and looked nervously at the clocks surrounding them.
If everything was moving along well, the carpentry crew should have been working since before dawn and would continue on throughout the day until game time. While she wanted to go see their progress, she would have to trust that they got everything right.
If only Jamie were there so she could send him in her place.
She checked her watch. Running late on her schedule by fifteen minutes.
A bad start to the morning. It was time to play catch-up.
SHE MET WITH HER CITY planner to arrange for streetlamps to be lit along certain routes for the evening. His report took three minutes, and getting him out of the castle took another five.
Forty minutes past ten, and Jamie still wasn’t back.
Next, the captain of the city watch returned. She listened to his reports of the ongoing hunt for the murderer. No success, he said as he wrung his hands.
“If we could reimplement the curfew,” he said, “it would mean that many fewer fel on the streets.”
“An excellent suggestion. Draw up plans and submit them to my steward.”
“Plans? What plans are needed, ma’am? We ring the watch bells, they get off the street.”
“It’s never that simple. We need a detail of actions the watch intends to implement so we aren’t hasty in impacting the businesses who rely on fel to be out after hours. Why, the waterfront is just starting to hit its stride.”
“I would think the safety of the people would be paramount.”
“We’ll hold off for at least one more night on curfew,” she said. “Or maybe two. This order will have to be communicated throughout Diregloom. District leaders would need to be informed, and of course the bishop so the church bell can be rung. We mustn’t cause confusion. So let’s reconvene on Monday in the afternoon.”
The captain appeared not to follow. “That’s three days. So then the curfew...?”
“Will wait. Write up your plans, Captain. Off you go.”
The captain departed and she met Rochus at the hallway door. “Jamie?”
“Still not back,” Rochus said.
The clocks struck their chime for three-quarters after the hour. One dinged three seconds after the rest.
“Your next appointment is waiting in the reading room,” Rochus said.
Claudia waved for them to be brought in. Her procurer Belle Ratto entered the clock room along with the game master. Belle took a drag on a cigarette dangling from her lips before flicking ash onto a decorative table clock with a receptacle that might be confused for an ashtray. The game master failed to stifle a cough as he clutched a large tome against his chest.
“Your surprise monsters are ready?” Claudia asked.
Belle Ratto was grinning. “Ready and hungry, Claudia. Maybe a little wobbly because they never got their sea legs, but this one isn’t an ocean-themed game like your last extravaganza, is it?”
“I do hate to be unoriginal.”
“The only issue will be the facility. I looked at what you’ve planned. Seems less than secure.”
“My builders will do their jobs.”
“If you say so. I’ve been paid. I’d just hate to see anything go wrong because you’re in an unusual hurry and not your meticulous self. I also don’t like leaving my monsters unattended.”
“I couldn’t come see them, I regret. I’ve been overwhelmed with details.”
Ratto shrugged. “It’s your games and your coin.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Claudia turned to the game master. He was the narrative voice of the catacombs.
He ran his hand across his bare pate. “My queen, I have no script.”
“We’ll be improvising. You’ve never had trouble before.”
“It’s not just the script. My queen, I inspected the game grounds. The acoustics are terrible. You’ve always emphasized the need to maintain a narrative. But there’s no flow to how the action will play out. There’s too many places where we won’t even be able to see what’s happening.”
“The game runs as scheduled. This will be a new experience for all of us. I trust you will be able to come up with something.”
He was shaking his head. “Even the decorations, what few there are, don’t speak to anything but rust and ruin.”
“Then use what you have and make the best of it. You’ve never disappointed me before. Besides, there’s a few surprises which, once finished, will tickle your creative heart.”
“Opening day jitters?” Belle asked.
“My dear game master has never let me down. Rust and ruin, you say? How about ‘The fall of man and his disgrace at the hands of the fel?’ It appears you could simply read select passages from Third Scripture and wouldn’t even have to ad lib.”
The game master squinted as if seeing the possibilities. “Some might take offense.”
“People have been offended ever since I started my rule. So tell me, is this enough of a writing prompt?”
The game master bowed. Both he and Belle left her just as the clocks all chimed eleven in perfect unison, but for the one lagging just behind.
Close enough. Things were back on track, except for Jamie’s absence. An extra set of eyes and ears would have been welcome.
Rochus waited for her at the doorway.
“My early lunch party?” she asked.
“Arriving fashionably late as we speak. I’m sure you have thirty minutes before they settle in.”
“Good. See that I’m not disturbed.” She moved to sit at her desk and her notes. So little of her original plans would make it to the game floor tonight. Those ideas would stay banked for future seasons. But what if tonight’s games were a smash hit? What other parts of the city might lend themselves to future events?
She needed her maps. She began to open notebooks and lay them out. Ideas came flooding faster than she knew she could write.
“Leave me.”
Rochus nodded and began backing out through the doorway.
“Oh, and Rochus? If Jamie shows up, have him brought here. Immediately.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
DIGGER RODE ALONE IN the carriage. His hands remained chained together and the guards were clutching to the outside of the carriage. He hadn’t seen his brother since their confrontation that morning. Neither Jamie nor Isabel had come by his room, and now it was too late for him to tell Monty anything.
Whatever stage fight lay in store couldn’t be worse than what the queen had devised beneath her castle. If he
had to fight to survive he would. If it was only against the other fel he’d seen, who didn’t appear to know which end of their sword to hold, Digger felt confident of winning. Yet a cramp in his stomach wouldn’t let up. His mouth was dry.
He focused on the moment, reminding himself of the endless drills he had endured during his ranger training. Their instructor’s words remained seared in his brain. A clouded head meant dead. A trained fighter with a calm hand will beat a master who gives in to fear or anger or pride.
The corporal opened the carriage door.
Digger stepped outside in time to see the last of the sun setting behind the theater. A crowd had gathered. There were cheers and shouts, reminding him of the mad spectators who had been gathered in the galleries of the catacombs. But here the faces weren’t just pureblood nobility, but a mix of the commoners who lived in Diregloom, with more than a few fel among them. And some were obviously tourists judging by their masks and fanciful attire.
The bodies began to press in towards the carriage.
A fel woman in a flimsy dress and wearing black lipstick squeezed past the guards. She grabbed Digger’s shirt and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Give ’em hell, champion! Or send them there!”
One of the castle guards peeled her free and shoved her away.
The thugs in front of the Palace Theater looked rattled as they struggled to keep the front door free.
Red Eye was standing on a crate beneath the sign. “Hey! Ticket holders only! And we don’t open these doors until seven! No fel inside! There’s still tickets left! Coins only!”
Digger was led towards the door. A few in the crowd were throwing flower petals in front of him. Greenskin children wedged between grown-ups were grinning as if they were about to be served cake and handed presents.
What were these people expecting to happen?
Sheer madness. He couldn’t understand this reception. Whatever sickness infected the purebloods had trickled to the masses. But then at the end of the line stood a hooded figure. The ragged scar across his nose was visible.
Marcus.
Digger tried to pull away from his escorts but the hands on him only held him tighter.
“That man there—he’s the one who’s been killing the guards.”
Corporal Dario leaned close to Digger. “What?”
“That big fel in the hood up ahead. Grab him!”
But when Digger looked at the front of the crowd again, Marcus was gone.
The corporal got him to the door of the theater and they made it inside. Red Eye was still shouting for ticket buyers but his voice was overwhelmed by the din.
One of the thugs joined Digger and his escorts. He was holding a shovel. “Hey, champion, someone gave me this. Said you might need it.”
The corporal relieved him of the shovel. “What’s it for?”
Digger offered to take it. “It’s from a fan.”
“No weapons until the game,” the thug said. “Now let’s get you backstage and ready for the show.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
CLAUDIA LOVED MEETING with her closest fans. This group of young socialites understood what she was trying to do and had been the first to offer to pay for the privilege of seeing her newest game. They had come for their early lunch and stayed on as guests for the day. Now that everything else was as done as it could be, Claudia decided to enjoy herself at the evening wine reception.
Congregating in the ballroom, they sipped their wine and nibbled on smoked salmon chips with dabs of crème fraiche.
Claudia held her own crystal flute of sparkling rosé but didn’t want to smudge her recently reapplied lipstick. “Thank you all so much for coming. We’ll set off to the event within the hour. You’ve supported me and my passion, which is my greatest love. Tonight is an experiment. It’s a new production, very last-minute, and nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. As you’ve heard, my champion has agreed to participate. I trust no one here has become squeamish since last season’s game?”
Polite laughter. A few raised wine flutes.
“Oh, goody. Because what you are about to witness will be rough around the edges. We won’t have the comforts of seats, so I hope you have shoes which can take you to the different vantage points. If not, let any of the servers know and I’ll loan you a pair of slippers.”
A few of the ladies wearing spiked heels raised their hands and the attendants brought around the change of footwear.
“So enjoy yourself. The carriages will pick everyone up out front.”
She signaled to a waiting pair of guitarists, who struck up a lively duet. She took a moment to air-kiss a few of the late arrivals but then checked her watch. Everything was ready. The flutter in her chest was just a case of the jitters.
Without a trial run, things wouldn’t go perfectly, she knew, but then again, maybe they would.
Isabel and Jamie entered the ballroom. Isabel appeared reluctant to enter, but Jamie placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and urged her forward. Neither was dressed for the event. Isabel wore a commoner’s dress fit for a barmaid. And Jamie had a tunic on over a nightshirt and looked like he had just slipped out of bed and fallen into his closet.
“Aunt Claudia? We have to speak with you.”
She moved to greet him. “Why Jamie, there you are! You’ve been gone all day and left me without your assistance for tonight’s new games. You had me worried. As you can see, it’s busy here. Will you be wearing that tonight?”
“No, Aunt Claudia. I understand it’s your big night, but I had to help our guests today. Isabel has a situation where you could help, and it’s urgent. Tell her, Sprite.”
Claudia nodded at Isabel, all the while counting the seconds this distraction was costing her. “Go on, dearie. Whatever is the matter?”
The girl’s honey eyes shone. “It’s the mission. The prioress has orders from the archbishop. The sisters who are even part fel are to be expelled, both here and at the hospital on West Island. Jamie says you can help.”
“I’d be reluctant to stand in the way of the archbishop’s orders when it comes to the monastery. The archbishop holds sway over their every action and they must obey. It’s part of their vows.”
“But the archbishop attends court with Duke Tito. He never crosses the duke. Which means if you asked, the duke would listen. Surely he’d understand the work they do here and in the hospital.”
“You overestimate my influence with Tito.”
“But he’s your brother. He placed you here to rule. He must trust you.”
Claudia tried to ignore the implication that she owed her power to Tito. “He gave me an island town of outcasts to get me out of the way. I made this city into what it is, not him. Now I have an event.”
Jamie stepped forward. “All we’re asking for is a letter to Uncle Tito.”
“I’m asking for more than that,” Isabel said.
Claudia was finding it difficult to keep her voice under control. “You speak boldly, girl. Remember who you’re addressing.”
“You’re the queen of the island. With your games, you defy the duke. With your tolerance of my kind, you stand up to him. With a word, you could convince the prioress to delay implementing this order for months or even longer. Think of the good they do. How they benefit those who have needs, both pureblood and fel.”
“Enough.”
“With a simple letter, you could ensure your reputation among your people as a ruler who cares for her subjects. You already support the mission with your generous contributions. But now they need the lady of the island to act on their behalf.”
“I said enough! Jamie, how dare you bring this matter to me now? You know how important tonight is and all the work I’ve been doing—work you were supposed to be helping with. Can’t you see I have guests? My games start soon. I have a hundred things to do. I’m very cross with you. Very cross.”
But Isabel wasn’t finished. “Lady Claudia, I thought this would be of special concern to you, seeing as
how you were once a patient at the hospital, much like Jamie once was.”
“You rude little tramp!”
Her hot words brought the ballroom to a standstill. Had her guests been listening? Isabel stood mute. Jamie flinched like a chastened puppy.
Claudia glared at the arrogant girl before her. “You overstep your station! You dare speak to me as if I owe you or the sisterhood anything? You interrupt my evening with this...this nonsense and then insult me?”
Isabel had her head low. “I’m...I’m sorry! I was sure you’d want to know and would find it in your heart to help!”
“Enough out of you. I don’t know if it’s your tainted bloodline or Jamie’s influence, but you don’t get to speak with me with such familiarity. And you don’t ever get to mention that hospital to anyone.”
She waved for Rochus, who brought two guards with him.
“Aunt Claudia, what are you doing?” Jamie said.
“Regretting ever allowing you into my trust. Take her to her room. And if my nephew says another word, take him too.”
“You can’t arrest us,” Jamie said.
“Arrest you? My dear nephew, have you not been paying attention? You’re both to accompany me tonight. But neither of you is dressed for my event and I won’t have either of you at my side dressed like that.”
She turned her back to Isabel as the guards hauled her off. It took a long moment for Claudia’s breathing to settle down, but she managed to force a smile as she returned to her guests.
“My dear friends, enough with the pleasantries. Finish your wine. We have a game to watch.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
SEVEN OTHER FEL WAITED on the stage behind the curtain. They were pacing or standing awkwardly, most giving Digger a nervous eye.
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