Blood and Tempest

by Jon Skovron

  “And so you propose that we placate the rabble by giving them, what … political representation?”

  “A slice of the pie, if you will,” said Merivale. “But a small slice. We could allow the people to choose their own local representatives, each of whom would have as much authority as, say, a lord.”

  “And what of the lords?”

  Merivale shrugged. “What of them?”

  “Surely you would not want someone like the Black Rose to take Lesser Basheta from you.”

  “Frankly, I doubt she’d want it. And I can think of several commoners already on Lesser Basheta that I would be willing to work with on a mutually beneficial platform. But I concede this solution might not be tenable for all nobility, and there are a great many details that would need to be worked out in order for it to be acceptable to all parties.”

  The empress shook her head. “This is starting to sound suspiciously like the Great Congress of Aukbontar. I cannot see how I would be saving the empire by turning my back on half a millennia of tradition.”

  “It is a weighty decision, to be sure,” said Merivale. “We have until tomorrow morning to reply to the Black Rose. Why not sleep on it?”

  Empress Pysetcha narrowed her eyes. “Playing for time, Lady Hempist?”

  “We shall know soon if I’m correct in my predictions,” said Merivale. “I pray that I am wrong. But sadly, I rarely am.”

  Captain Murkton arrived in the predawn light. He’d taken two horses, switching back and forth to keep them from total collapse. Even so, they were lathered and swaying, their glossy brown coats steaming in the chilly air, when he cantered into the courtyard.

  Merivale caught a glimpse of the horses out the window as she walked from her room to the empress’s chambers. She’d slept a few hours, but had already been awake and sipping a cup of tea when one of the household servants knocked on her door, apologizing for the hour and informing her that the empress had requested her presence immediately.

  When Merivale entered the room, the empress sat in her nightgown, slumped into a high-backed chair. Merivale had never seen the empress slump before. Her head was bowed, and she massaged her temples with the thumb and finger of one elegant hand. Next to her stood Murkton, his white and gold uniform caked with dirt and spattered with blood.

  “Your Majesty,” Merivale said, and curtsied.

  “Tell her,” the empress said tersely, not looking up.

  Murkton turned to Merivale. “My lady, it is as you feared. Emperor Martarkis passed away late last night. Immediately upon his death, Archlord Tramasta ignored the laws of succession and seized power, declaring Ammon Set the new emperor.”

  “Ah.” Merivale’s insides twisted into something cold and hard. As much as she’d been trying to prepare herself for this event, she still felt the full weight of it as if it were a surprise.

  “But he hasn’t completely solidified his control yet,” continued Murkton. “When I left Stonepeak a few hours ago, there was open fighting between soldiers, both in the palace and on the streets of the city. So far, the other biomancers haven’t acted to support either side.”

  “Simply allowing Ammon Set to assume control is all the declaration of support they need,” said Merivale.

  “How …” The empress looked up at Merivale. “How is this even possible? The biomancers have sworn an oath—”

  “The ultimate sacrifice,” said Merivale. “When Red interrogated Chiffet Mek, that’s what he called it. Red mistakenly assumed it meant death. But I have never met a biomancer who truly feared death. It’s an ever-present risk in their work. No, what they fear is powerlessness. By breaking his oath and wresting the throne, Ammon Set has sacrificed his ability to use biomancery. Now he’s just a man.”

  “A man with the might of the imperial navy at his back,” Pysetcha said bitterly.

  “Not entirely,” said Merivale. “I have been working to shore up support for Prince Leston within the military. Despite his immaturity, or perhaps even because of it, many of your subjects are fond of him. Certainly some soldiers will blindly follow Tramasta, but others will defect to us once we arrive at the palace.”

  “And how on earth do you plan to reach the palace alive?” the empress asked.

  “With the help of the Black Rose and her people, naturally,” said Merivale. “That’s why I invited them.”

  The empress stared at her. “Help which she will only offer when we agree to give her political representation.”

  “Just so, Your Majesty,” said Merivale. “Imagine how motivated she’ll be when it’s not just our cause, but hers as well that she fights for. And if the stories I’ve heard have any basis in fact, she and her ‘wags’ are some of the most deadly people in the empire. I doubt we’ll find a better ally in this conflict.”

  Pysetcha’s head dropped back down in defeat. It pained Merivale to see the empress like that. Doubly so, since it was her doing. But the empire must stand, in one form or another. There was a great deal more at stake here than the pride of a few nobles.

  “Fine,” said the empress bitterly. “Can … Can you work out the details with our new allies? I … I didn’t sleep last night and I find it difficult to focus at present.”

  “You may rely on me to take care of everything, Your Majesty,” said Merivale.

  21

  Brigga Lin generally prided herself on maintaining a certain level of grace and poise. She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, probably not even Hope, but it was something else she had worked hard to perfect during those years when she had been developing her mastery of the lost biomancery art of casting from afar. But just as there were times to eschew casting and get her hands dirty, there were also times when she needed to abandon decorum, hike up her skirts, and run like all hells.

  As she ran toward the Shade District, she told herself that the primal panic she felt regarding the possibility of Alash getting flattened by a kraken was due to an understandable but entirely unromantic fondness for the man. During their time aboard the Kraken Hunter, they had become kindred spirits of a sort. As the two “lacies” among a crew of pirates and ruffians, it had only been natural. Neither had wanted to draw attention to the disparity they sometimes felt with the rest of the crew, so they had often quietly confessed their unease and bewilderment to each other. Even Hope had trouble grasping many of the niceties of civilized culture. While Brigga Lin’s best friend was vastly more educated than most people in matters of war and philosophy, she seemed to have no idea that soup should be eaten with a spoon rather than slurped directly from the bowl. Only Alash had understood how it made Brigga Lin cringe inwardly every time she witnessed one of the crew pick their nose or scratch their bottom. Especially in those early months, when Brigga Lin had struggled to find her place among her new companions, Alash’s kind patience had been essential in helping her adjust.

  So it was no wonder she felt a certain affection for the man. An affection that had obviously not diminished even after his embarrassing and bumbling declaration of love. A declaration she conceded that perhaps she had not responded to as kindly as she could have, given his gentle nature. It wasn’t as though she had enjoyed laughing in his face, or watching him break into tears after. But his stuttering, hand-wringing proposal had been so absurd, she wasn’t able to help herself. It had just come bubbling out of her.

  But he was back and hadn’t made any further overtures or pressured her in any way. In fact, he had been a complete gentleman. Of course he had always been a complete gentleman, but her time with Gavish Gray had taught her to appreciate such a quality in a way she hadn’t before. There was also the muscles. She appreciated those as well. Perhaps it was shallow of her, but his newly honed physique did make the possibility of having sex with him more appealing. Not that she would, because she knew it would be terribly confusing for such a sentimental, romantic man like Alash. He would no doubt jump to the conclusion that she loved him. Which she obviously didn’t. Because biomancers absolutely did not fall
in love.

  Reaching Vaderton’s ship turned out to be more difficult than Brigga Lin had anticipated, in large part because while she ran toward the docks, nearly everyone else was running in the opposite direction. As she pushed her way through the crowds of wild-eyed people, she was tempted to simply melt anyone in her path. She resisted the impulse, however. She was rescuing Alash, after all, and killing a bunch of people in the process of doing so was exactly the sort of thing that would upset him.

  But her resolve not to kill, or at least severely maim, began to weaken when she hit a large intersection within sight of the entrance to the docks. She stared in fury at the pack of people who milled shoulder to shoulder in front of her. Some were going north, others south, and still others west, and all of them seemed to be trying to do so at this particular intersection all at once.

  “Well, this isn’t good,” observed Red.

  Brigga Lin hadn’t realized he was following her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hope asked me to help. And don’t forget, Alash is my cousin.”

  “Would it be terrible if I just melted a few?” Brigga Lin gestured to the knot of people in front of her.

  “I think I have a less murderous solution.” He drew a revolver and fired a few shots into the air. “Clear the way for imperial business!” Then he fired a few more shots for good measure.

  People turned and looked at Brigga Lin standing there in a white hood, and suddenly there was hardly anyone in the intersection.

  “Not bad,” she conceded.

  Red grinned. “After you, then, my lady.”

  When the noise first started, Jilly knew it had to be an attack of some kind. No way were those biomancers going to let Hope and Brigga Lin go that easy. So she and Uter climbed up onto the roof of the Broadside Inn to get a better look at what was coming.

  It wasn’t hard to see.

  “Piss’ell,” she whispered as she stared across the rooftops at the massive sea creature laying waste to the Shade District.

  “What is that?” asked Uter, his eyes wide.

  “That, my wag, is a kraken.”

  “Hope told me about those! Have you seen one before?”

  She shook her head. “Captain Vaderton told me about it once. The deadliest thing in the sea, he said. He told me it was big, but …” She stared at the massive hulking thing as it smashed through piers like they were reeds. “The mind can hardly hold such a thing.”

  “Do you think it will be our friend?” Uter asked.

  “Don’t be bludgeon. Of course it won’t be our friend.”

  “It will if we kill it!”

  Hope had told Jilly about Uter’s strange and creepy ability. She looked over at the ghostly boy as he looked longingly at the kraken, his little hands opening and closing like he couldn’t wait to find something sharp.

  “And how are you going to kill something like that? I mean, except maybe making it laugh itself to death.”

  “You can die from laughing?” asked Uter.

  Jilly sighed and turned back to watch as the kraken tore up a section of the docks and tossed it several blocks. “I’ll bet Hope and Brigga Lin are going after it right now. They’ll know a way to kill it.”

  “I wish we could ask them,” said Uter.

  Jilly smiled. “Now that I think on it, we can. I may not know a lot about biomancery yet, but I know how to do that.”

  She sat cross-legged on the rough slates of the roof, aware that Uter was mimicking her. She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t be distracted by it.

  “Master! Where are you?”

  Ouch. Don’t shout. I’m at the docks, came Brigga Lin’s thoughts.

  “I knew it! You’re going to kill the kraken, aren’t you?”

  Don’t be absurd.

  “Wait, so you’re not going to kill it?”

  There was a pause before Brigga Lin replied.

  To be honest, I’m not sure what we’re going to do yet. Right now, I need to make sure Alash and Vaderton are safe. Then we’ll worry about what happens after that.

  “Can I come help you?”

  You need to stay with Uter where it’s safe.

  “I’m not a kid anymore, you know.”

  Brigga Lin’s thought came hard and unyielding. Are you talking back to me?

  “No, master! I just … I want to help.”

  Very well. Establish a connection with Hope so we can coordinate our efforts.

  Jilly groaned. “This again?”

  So you don’t want to help after all?

  “No, I do, master,” she said quickly. “I’ll start building the connection now.”

  Thank you, Jilly.

  Jilly opened her eyes and turned to Uter. “Okay, we’ve got a job.”

  “We do?”

  Uter looked very impressed, so Jilly decided to go with that.

  “Yeah, it’s really important, so we can’t mess it up.”

  Uter leaned in eagerly. “What do we do?”

  “I have to use biomancery to make sure Hope and Brigga Lin can talk to each other even if they’re on opposite sides of the city.”

  “You can do that?”

  “It’s easy,” said Jilly, affecting a careless tone.

  “So what do I do?”

  “This takes a lot of concentration, so you’ll have to get stuff for me. Like if I get hungry or thirsty.”

  “I can do that!” said Uter.

  “Great.” Jilly shifted her butt on the cold, hard shingles. “Start by going down to our room and getting me a pillow to sit on.”

  The intricate snowflake design of the docks on the eastern side of Vance Post was in ruins. Miles of wooden planks had been torn apart. Some now lay floating in ragged clutches along the coast, but most appeared to have been hurled into the city. When Brigga Lin arrived, she was relieved to see that the kraken hadn’t worked its way down to the southeastern portion of the docks where Vaderton’s boat was kept. But she was infuriated to see that both men were still on the boat, with no sign of leaving, and the kraken now less than a quarter mile up the coast from them.

  She shoved her way through the panicked crowds that were carrying whatever they could as far inland as they could go, like intelligent people. Finally she reached the boat and climbed aboard without permission.

  “What are you two still doing here?”

  “Would you have been less angry if we’d come all this way and they weren’t here?” muttered Red as he climbed aboard behind her. “Or more angry?”

  Brigga Lin ignored him and continued to glare at Alash and Vaderton, who sat on the boat huddled over a parchment as if there wasn’t a giant sea monster heading directly toward them.

  “It won’t let any ships escape,” said Vaderton, not looking up from the parchment, “and there didn’t seem much point in joining the panicked throngs.” He waved his hand vaguely. “So we’re more or less stuck.”

  They both seemed so intent that she finally gave in to curiosity. She moved closer so that she could look over their shoulders at the parchment, which was covered with odd diagrams, scribbles, and mathematical equations. “What is this you’re working on?”

  Alash glanced up, appearing to notice her for the first time. “Ah, hello, Miss Lin. A delight to see you as ever. Frightful situation, isn’t it?” He then went back to the parchment and frowned, making a few marks on it with a charcoal pencil.

  Vaderton squinted at the calculation he’d just written. “Really? That much?”

  “If we want to be certain it will work,” said Alash. “Although that doesn’t solve the delivery problem.”

  “Alash,” Brigga Lin said, the frustration in her voice returning. “Catch me up.”

  “Oh, sorry, Miss Lin!” said Alash. “Vaderton and I have been trying to determine if there is a way to use explosives to either deter or kill the kraken, and if so, approximately how much gunpowder it would take.”

  “The idea,” said Vaderton, “would be to pack a ship full of gunpowder, get th
e Guardian to eat it, then somehow ignite the explosives.”

  “How much gunpowder would you need?” asked Red.

  “Roughly thirty barrels,” said Alash.

  “Is there even that much gunpowder on Vance Post?” he asked.

  “Possibly at the police station,” said Vaderton.

  “Regardless, I’m not convinced we’d even be able to get the kraken to eat it,” said Alash. “Observe.”

  He pointed to where the kraken loomed, now less than a quarter of a mile away. They watched as it picked up a ship in its tentacles and cracked it in half like a nut. It then used a third tentacle to reach in and get the people who had been hiding inside.

  “The ship might not even stay intact long enough to deliver the full payload of gunpowder,” said Red.

  “Exactly! I’d say the chances are extremely slim! And sometimes, the kraken simply chucks the ship into the city, and that would be even worse! Why, that much gunpowder could level a city block!” Alash beamed at them. As usual, when consumed with a technical problem, he seemed to lose sight of the dark reality it represented.

  “So what you’re saying is that after all your calculations, you’ve determined it’s a terrible idea,” said Red.

  “Oh, well, yes, I suppose. But, see, now we know—”

  “What about biomancery?” interrupted Vaderton as he turned to Brigga Lin. “Could you take control of this beast?”

  “Most likely there is a biomancer on Vance Post controlling it as we speak,” said Brigga Lin. “My understanding is that the kraken has always required a ‘keeper’ to assure its obedience. It might be possible for me to wrest control from that biomancer. But to do that, I would have to figure out which of many possible techniques the biomancer is using, and that would be merely a process of trial and error until I found the right combination. It could take several hours. Perhaps longer.”

  They watched the kraken decimate yet another pier as it worked its way down the coast.