Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  He pointed the gun at Aniri’s head.

  Just as he cocked it, Aniri was shoved sideways, a blur flying past her. Natesh’s gun cracked, but it must have gone wide, because the bullet found a home somewhere in the metalworks with a biting ping. Aniri was yanked farther to the side and dragged behind one of the boilers. It was Devesh, one hand locked around her arm, a pistol in the other. Across the empty middle aisle, Karan likewise had Seledri tucked behind a giant mechanical tubing display, weapon in hand.

  The sing of metal on metal came from the back. Aniri peeked to find Janak fighting Natesh’s raksaka, using some metal piping to beat back his two short blades. Their blows were lightning fast, more that she could track, with whirled movements of legs and leaps interspersed between. Natesh and his two guards had retreated to a display, taking refuge and leaving the raksakas clear room to fight.

  Aniri faced Devesh in their close hiding spot. “Give me your gun,” she whispered harshly.

  He squinted but didn’t argue, handing it over. She peeked around the edge again, trying to aim at Natesh’s raksaka, but she couldn’t be sure to hit him. And the pistol was only a single shot.

  She growled in frustration, then called out, “Natesh! This is madness. Call back your raksaka.”

  “It’s a little late for that, Aniri,” came his casual reply. A shot cracked out, and a fist-sized hole appeared in the boiler behind which she and Devesh stood.

  Devesh’s eyes were wide. It had missed them by inches.

  “Can’t exactly let you live now, you see,” Natesh called out.

  Karan popped briefly from behind his equipment shield and fired at Natesh. The sing of metal and lack of cries told her he missed. Meanwhile, in the raksaka fight, the metallic strikes had been replaced by muscular grunts.

  Natesh’s first shot wasn’t followed immediately by another, even though clearly their protective shield was less than adequate. By her count they had two weapons and had fired twice. They must be reloading. But she still only had the one shot, and far more enemies than that.

  She scanned the room for anything else they could use, shield or weapon. Karan was scrambling to reload, her sister shrinking into his shadow, the aetheroceiver held protectively over her belly. Aniri and Devesh had only one weapon between them, with no way to reload.

  A groaning that sounded far too much like Janak jolted her: he was still recovering from his gunshot wound from Garesh. Surely he couldn’t last long in such a fight.

  Aniri peeked out again and jerked back when she saw a guard doing likewise. Another shot rang out and the window at the storefront shattered, spraying glass onto the sidewalk. If there were people on the street, they had long since scattered with the gunfire. Then something Aniri saw in that split second peek registered in her mind. Along the wall behind Natesh and his guards was a row of slim silver tanks. The kind that were pumped full of the gases used for all kinds of welding and metalworks. They were kept secured by hooks and chains because of their explosive potential.

  Aniri popped out from her hiding place, took aim, and fired at the row of canisters. Faster than she could blink, an explosive pop deafened her ears, followed by a blast of hissing gas. Mens’ cries pierced the air. Karan peered around his shield, weapon ready. He fired at Natesh and the guards as they fled their cover. Aniri couldn’t tell if Karan hit anyone, but they kept running, straight out the back of the shop. In that moment of distraction, Janak landed a blow that stumbled his foe back. Janak pulled something from the back of his ink-black clothing, and one more gunshot cracked the air.

  Natesh’s raksaka jerked back and lay still on the floor.

  Janak’s weapon leaked a small trail of smoke. He cast it aside, liberated the twin blades from the fallen raksaka and, holding them like daggers, stalked into the back room.

  “Karan!” Aniri said, flashing looks between him and the disappearing back of her raksaka.

  Karan nodded and hurried after Janak, although his weapon was discharged, and he hadn’t time to reload. But having another in the fight might help, should Natesh and his men decide to make a stand in the shop’s back storage rooms.

  Aniri went to her sister, still behind the giant tubing display. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” And indeed, her sister looked as if the fight had energized her in some way. “It’s a good thing to be sure who your enemies are.”

  Aniri gave a small smile. She couldn’t imagine how relieved her sister must be to hear straight from the Second Son’s mouth that her husband wasn’t the one seeking her death.

  “We really shouldn’t remain here,” Devesh said.

  Aniri peered at the back of the shop. There was no sign or sound of trouble, but she wasn’t sure that meant anything.

  “How are we going to get out of the city now?” Aniri asked Devesh. “Do you have someone else you know that perhaps doesn’t have a direct line to the Second Son?”

  “The shopkeeper can’t possibly have wired Natesh and had him arrive so quickly,” Devesh said defensively. “The Second Son probably has his people roaming the city, watching for anything unusual. When your tinker showed up here, I suspect that triggered a personal visit.”

  Aniri grimaced at their apparent bad luck. “What options does that leave us?”

  “Aniri, please reconsider. Let me hide you away.” Devesh urged both of them to move toward the front door.

  “I’m reconsidering how much help you are really providing here.” Aniri stared at the shattered window as they approached the front door. She didn’t want to leave without Janak and Karan, but she couldn’t risk going after them. Before she had to make that decision, they reappeared, Janak stalking in from the back, swords still in hand, and Karan following with the cowardly mouse of a shopkeeper in tow. Karan hauled him past the dead raksaka, pausing briefly to pick up the gun Janak had cast aside, then marched the shopkeeper to stand before Aniri.

  “Found him hiding in a barrel,” Karan said with a look of disgust.

  “It appears the Second Son and his guards have fled for the moment,” Janak said, “but I’m sure it is only a temporary retreat. We need to move immediately, then discuss our plans going forward.”

  “What about him?” Aniri nodded to the shopkeeper. Karan still held him by the scruff of the neck.

  Janak moved lightning fast to press the tip of his sword to the shopkeeper’s throat. “Which direction to the train depot?”

  The man’s eyes bugged out. “To the north,” he squeaked.

  Janak withdrew his sword and somehow stowed both blades in a slip of fabric in the back of his raksaka uniform. Then he knocked the shopkeeper out with a single, effortless blow to the temple.

  “We’ll head to the pedestrian gate,” Janak said, nodding toward the door.

  Devesh led the way out of the shop, followed by Janak and Seledri. Aniri fell into step behind them with Karan. She glanced up at the large man, hoping she was forgiven for assuming he had betrayed them.

  He noticed her look and gave her a small smile. “Like I told ye, yer good in a pinch, fresh.”

  Aniri smiled briefly, then copied Karan as he tucked his weapons away underneath his cloak. The shops were just beginning to leak tentative customers back onto the street. Their group was attracting everyone’s notice, but they followed Janak’s lead in putting up their hoods anyway. The only chance of staying ahead of Natesh’s spies—who must be everywhere by now—was to move away from the scene as quickly as possible.

  Devesh lead them down an alley that soon blocked them from prying eyes. They weaved past broken crates and piles of sour refuse that reeked of tinker grease and metal. Once out of the industrial district, the stench only worsened, with rotten food and the pests who feasted on it. Devesh finally called them to a halt just before a busy street. News of the gunfight seemed to not have traveled from the industrial sector a dozen blocks away.

  “The pedestrian gate is just two streets farther,” Devesh said to the group, and specifically to Janak. “But I
don’t know what you’re thinking. The guards will surely be on alert for us, and they’re armed as a matter of course.”

  “We are armed as well,” Janak said.

  Devesh looked at him like he was crazed and turned to Aniri. “A lone raksaka armed with blades is no match for muskets.”

  Aniri knew that well enough. She studied Janak: he seemed slightly winded, and a razor-thin cut along his cheek was sending a small river of blood down his neck. He ignored it, but Aniri felt sure the fight with Natesh’s raksaka had rekindled his previous injuries. Or worse, he was hiding fresh ones, possibly more serious than a close shave with a raksaka’s blade.

  Now that they were stopped, Karan was busy reloading his weapons. “We’ll have a few shots of our own.”

  Aniri shook her head. “Janak, I’m not enamored with the idea of another gunfight.”

  “Nor am I,” he said tightly. “But waiting for the Second Son’s guards to find us again isn’t prudent. And our time grows short.”

  Aniri pursed her lips. He was right on both counts, but that didn’t make storming the pedestrian gate any less risky. “What alternatives do we have?”

  She had asked Janak, but Devesh answered instead. “I can still secret you both away—”

  Janak cut him off with a glare. “Word will quickly grow of the gunfight, and with a raksaka dead and a princess missing… there are thousands of hostile eyes in this city, my lady, and we cannot be sure of any of them.”

  Devesh balled up his fists and turned away, shaking his head in disgust.

  Janak ignored him. “Hiding is a high-risk option. As long as we reach the pedestrian gate before reinforcements arrive, a couple of armed guards present a much smaller challenge. I will take them myself. Only when the passage is clear, will you and the Second Daughter emerge from a safe location and transit with me.”

  “Aye,” Karan said. “Taking the gate should be less trouble than you think, fresh. Those guards aren’t the pick of the crop, usually. And I’ve a couple of shots to clear the way should they make trouble.”

  Aniri felt another pang for having ever doubted him. She didn’t like the plan, but Janak was right. Time was short and their list of options shorter. “All right. But I want you armed with a pistol as well, Janak.” She dug out her gun and handed it to him. He exchanged it with Karan for a loaded one, which then disappeared inside his raksaka wrappings.

  “And my lady should have a sword.” Janak pulled one of the short blades from its sheath along his back and presented it to her with both hands. It was light, but well-balanced, and it felt better in her hand than the gun. She sheathed her sword through a loop in her belt, under her cloak.

  Devesh was still silently cursing and pressing a fist into the cobblestoned wall of the alley. Aniri shook her head and turned to Seledri. She was leaning against the wall, closer to the group, eyes cast down, examining the alley muck at her feet.

  Aniri peered at her, catching her eye. “You must be tired.”

  “And wishing I had trusted Pavan from the start.” Seledri’s brow was wrinkled, the aetheroceiver still clutched protectively across her belly.

  “That’s something you can remedy,” Aniri said softly. “But I doubt we would make it to the palace now without being caught. We need to get you to safety first. But are you well enough for this?” She tilted her head toward the pedestrian gate.

  Seledri made a face. “If we remain much longer in this alley, I suspect the stench alone will kill me.”

  Aniri grinned.

  Devesh had finally stopped his silent tirade against the wall.

  She took a couple slow steps toward him. “You don’t have to be part of this, Dev.”

  He pushed off against the stone wall. “I promised to get you out of the city.”

  “Your assistance has been underwhelming so far, courtesan,” Janak called as he wiped at the blood still pulsing from his face.

  Aniri grimaced. That wasn’t fair. The fight at the shop wasn’t Devesh’s fault. She touched his arm. “Thank you for getting us this far, but I think we can manage from here.”

  “You’ll need a distraction,” Devesh said, ignoring her words but not her touch. “Someone the guards will not suspect, while your raksaka sneaks up to disable them.”

  “You don’t need to take that risk.”

  “I promised to get you out of the city,” he repeated, darkly. “We’re not there yet.”

  Aniri frowned, not sure why he was so determined. But she nodded her agreement. It would help, even though she suspected he was just buying another chance to convince her to stay.

  Janak noted her acquiescence. “You’ll need to make haste, courtesan, if you want to contribute. But know that I’ll not be waiting on you.” To Karan, he said, “Stay with the Daughters and find a hiding spot with a view of the gate. Wait for my clear signal.” He demonstrated by making two circles in the air with his finger. “Then do not be tardy in joining us.”

  “Aye,” Karan said. “We’ll be right on your heels.”

  Janak jerked his head toward the alley entrance. “After you, courtesan.”

  Devesh glanced at Aniri, then squared his shoulders and strode past Janak, out of the alley. He took a left, which Aniri assumed was the direction of the gate. Janak went back the way they had come, no doubt looking for another approach.

  Karan led them out of the alley, hoods up, onto the busy street. The flow of traffic was even more substantial here at the entrance to the city. The pedestrian gate served, of course, people on foot, but also a small, buzzing fleet of pamgari. The wall surrounding the city was enormous, practically a mountain of rock unto itself. The gates were forged from giant sheets of steel. The massive doors stood open, but two guard houses just inside constricted the entrance, and a thick, mechanical lever arm blocked the cobbled street as it stretched beyond the city gate. Barely visible in the distance sat a small cluster of buildings—a village perhaps that served travelers on their way.

  A guard stood at the mechanical arm, turning some pamgari back while others were allowed through, one at a time. There was apparently a limit on how much cargo was allowed to pass, with a lively bartering of excess goods occurring off to the sides of the main traffic flow. Foot traffic was kept separate, transiting under a small arch to the side of the pamgari. One guard waved pedestrians through with only a cursory pause. Devesh must have melted into the crowd, because Aniri couldn’t see him anywhere.

  Karan stopped at a flower market only three shops from the gate. Heaping baskets of blooms brought color to the relentless grays and browns of the city’s landscape. Seledri and Aniri pretended to inspect the offerings, while Karan held the shopkeeper off, saying they were browsing for a wedding, not making a purchase today. It gave Aniri a twinge, thinking of the flower-laden God of Love who was supposed to preside over her wedding to Ash. Somehow discovering Pavan’s innocence had settled her heart along with the obvious relief in Seledri’s. Aniri wanted nothing more than to return to Jungali and the only man she had loved who was worthy of it.

  A commotion at the gate drew her attention. Devesh had commandeered a pamgari from who knew where and was attempting to pass through the gate, but the guard had stopped him. Apparently he was transporting something not allowed, because the guard was waving him out of the line, insisting he turn around, but Devesh was refusing to leave. His arms waved, and Aniri couldn’t catch the words, but she was quite certain they weren’t civil. Her body tensed as the guard put a hand to the pistol holstered at his side. They had caught the attention of everyone, including the second guard, who was holding up the line of pedestrians as they quarreled.

  “Who is that?” Seledri asked.

  “It’s just Dev,” Aniri answered.

  “No that.” Seledri pointed to a cloaked figure working his way to the front of the pedestrian line.

  Aniri squinted. He was too broad shouldered to be Janak. She glanced at Karan, but he was eyeing the figure as well. Then a shadow drifted over the crowd. The sk
yship sailed over them, a thousand feet in the air and blocking the sun.

  “They’re here,” Aniri whispered.

  “Aye,” Karan said, just as quiet. “It’s time we catch our ride, fresh.”

  He eased Aniri and Seledri away from the flowers, slowly strolling toward the gate. The cloaked figure had reached Devesh and appeared to be negotiating between Devesh and the guard. Aniri, Seledri, and Karan edged closer to the gate, but they couldn’t see the mystery person’s face.

  Suddenly a cry went up. The guard at the pedestrian gate slumped to the ground, and another cloaked figure—wiry and impossibly fast—whisked from that station to the second guard. He dropped like a stone.

  Janak.

  Several more cries rose up from the crowd. Karan urged Seledri and Aniri to pick up their pace. As they approached the end of the pedestrian line, the crowd dissolved into chaos: people with goods backing away from the fallen guard, pamgari tipping in their driver’s haste to turn around. Aniri strained to see Janak and Devesh and the mysterious figure who stood with them.

  Janak made two circles in the air with his finger.

  Aniri drew her sword, grabbed her sister’s hand, and ran through the stumbling crowd. Karan covered them like a shadow. They nearly collided with a woman clutching her child to her chest. Aniri yanked Seledri back from a driverless pamgari surging away from the gate. Karan’s arm at her back steadied them both. A handful of seconds later, they reached Janak and Devesh at the now deserted gate. The cloaked figure turned toward them.

  “Pavan!” Seledri cried out.

  His eyes were wild; they drank in the sight of her. “Seledri, thank the gods—” He surged toward her, a pistol in one hand, but it was pointed at the ground.

  Janak threw an arm in front of him before he had gone two steps. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  Her raksaka dashed to their side, laid hands on both Aniri and Seledri, and practically dragged them toward the gate. Seledri twisted her head from one side to the other, trying to catch sight of Pavan. Why was he here? And armed? But Aniri had no time for such thoughts as she finally got her feet under her and stumbled toward the gate. Janak, Devesh, Pavan, and Karan crowded around her and Seledri, a human shield intent on ferrying them outside the city. They hurried past the centurion metal gates and mammoth stone walls, emerging into a meadow of color and sunshine, brilliant greens sprinkled with riotous wildflowers.