by K. T. Davies
“You’re silly.”
“Thank you.”
Her expression became serious. “Captain Cobb says you’re dangerous.”
That perked my interest. “What else did he say and to whom?” I enquired casually.
“Jojo. I heard them talking.” Just when she was saying something interesting, she managed to distract herself with a tiny jade obidome that Niobia had given her.
I coughed. She looked up as though our conversation had happened hours ago. “What did you hear them saying?”
“Who?”
“Jojo and Cobb?”
“Oh. Them.” She shrugged. “I was supposed to be asleep, but they were talking loud outside with Varcan, and they woke me up. These walls aren’t very thick.”
“Unlike Hammerhand, eh?” I said with a smile, but she just frowned and tilted her head. “Kids, no sense of humor. What else did they say about me?”
She sighed, stared out of the window. “Look, balloons!” Irritating though it was, she wasn’t deliberately trying to duck my questions; she was just a kinch with a butterfly mind.
I persevered. “Sakura?”
“They said you were dangerous, a liar, and no good.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Jojo said you were good, but he agreed you were dangerous. Also, that you snored and cried in your sleep, which is true.”
“Bullshit.”
She shrugged. “Isn’t.”
“Is.”
“Isn’t.”
“Is.”
“Varcan also said you were a brat.”
“What? That fat-handed…me?” I was aghast. “A brat? I’m older than that pigpizzle’s ever likely to get.”
“Perhaps.” She turned all serious, which was ill-fitting on one so young. “But I saw what you did. You are dangerous.”
“Eat your stew.”
The Swan Theatre was a fat, barrel of a building, standing proudly on the banks of the River Val. It was also situated in a much nicer part of the city than some of those we’d had to pass through, because Cobb was too tight to pay for the toll bridges. Although, even he drew the line when it came to going through an area called the Belows and had reluctantly stumped up the coin for the toll road.
This part of Valen was more like the city I’d first visited all those years ago. A private militia patrolled the streets, which were cobbled and reasonably clean. The roving gangs of children looked fed and the beggars merely destitute rather than feral. Across the river, the hills of Valen rose above the city and beyond them, the ziggurats of the Empirifexes. There had only been one the last time I was here. Now there were three; the biggest of which was also the closest and girded with scaffolding.
“They leveled an entire district to build it,” Cobb said upon noticing the track of my gaze. We were backstage, surrounded by the joyful chaos of the Company. “Twenty thousand indentured servants and prisoners of war have taken fifteen years to build it.”
“You know a lot about it. Have you got shares in a builders’ yard?”
“Got a pal in the Stonemason’s Guild as a matter of fact. That’s why the city’s so run down; everything’s gone on that vanity.”
“Not everything.” I chinned towards the Ivory District.
“Aye.” His eyestalks quivered, and he rubbed his hands together. “And that’s where our audience lives. Can you smell it, Breed? Can you smell all that lovely coin?”
I tasted the air. Drew a breath and tasted fresh linen, rose water, roast meat, and sweet wine. All the trappings of wealth encapsulated in the wind drift, blowing from the haves towards the have nots. “Oh, yes.”
“Smells good, don’t it?” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Now, me and my good lady are off for supper with Tethys and Murcan. Will you be here when we get back?”
“Who are Tethys and Murcan?”
“The owners of this temple to creativity.” He spread his arms wide, displaying the full extent of his lavish, slash-sleeved, orange and black doublet. “What do you think?”
“It’s very nice. Very…theatrical.” I shrugged.
He frowned, tugged his beard. “So, will you be here when we get back?”
“Where else would I be?”
He put his arm around my shoulder and guided me to the recess of the window, out of earshot of the cast and crew who were unloading costumes and props. “I thought you might have unfinished business to deal with.”
“Like what?”
“Ludorius,” he whispered.
“What? No. I’m here for Sakura, that’s all.”
He looked cautiously relieved and patted my back. “I’m glad to hear it, because you know, for a while there, I thought you were fixed upon avenging your Mother and that cove is… well, he’s more than a handful.”
“You’ve no need to worry on my account. Now go and get your breeches on. I doubt Emma will want to go to supper with you in just your doublet and boots.”
He laughed, but I could see that he was still troubled. “Aye, well, she’s putting a stitch in the waistband for me. I’ve er, overindulged of late. You have a good night, Breed.”
“And you, Captain.” He smiled, but his expression and hunched shrug told me that he neither trusted nor believed me. It didn’t matter. For all his bluster, Cobb wasn’t the confrontational kind. He’d let his misgivings about me chew up his guts rather than kick me out. For my part, I’d wait and see if he could get an audience with the court. If he did, I’d go with him and introduce myself as Mother Blake’s heir and claim the right to hunt that bastard Ludo, all nice and legal. If Cobb made a fist of it, I’d take the girl and do it myself.
I looked out over the city. It burned to know that Ludo was out there somewhere. “But what are you up to?” The heavy stab of many footsteps warned me who was approaching.
“Breed, there you are.” Sakura ran up the stairs carrying an armful of costumes. Her usually pale cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright.
“I am indeed here. What are you doing?”
“Helping Emma. She said I could do sewing with them.”
“They do say children have nimble fingers. Hmm, perhaps not you though.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re as big as me with plenty of growing left to do. Those hands were made to swing a sword, not wield a needle.”
“I like to sew.” She waved to someone behind me. “Jojo!”
I turned to see Jojo trying to sneak away down the other end of the corridor. He smiled awkwardly and came over.
“Where have you been?” she enquired, her tone a mix of imperiousness and childish curiosity.
“At the digs I’m sharing with the crew. I’ve just been stowing my stuff.”
“Oh. Where will I stay?” The color faded from her cheeks as anxiety took hold.
Sensing her agitation, Jojo smiled and patted her knee. “Here with Cobb and Emma, the rooms are lovely. I’ll bet you can share with Niobia.”
“Do you think so?”
“She has a big room all to herself, I don’t see why not. Why don’t we go find her and ask?”
She nodded and made enthusiastic noises intelligible only to those under the age of ten before bounding into the tiring house to hunt down Nia. I hooked Jojo by the collar before he could follow.
When she’d gone, I let him go and leaned against the window, a cool breeze at my back. “Are you avoiding me, Johann?”
He laughed. “Nooo…”
I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms. “You sure?”
He wrung his hands like he was trying to wash away his embarrassment. “I can’t say what happened outside of the city didn’t…that is, I wasn’t… It was a bit odd and...”
“And? And yes, it was odd, sorry, but sorcery is ‘a bit odd’.”
“And…may I speak freely?”
“Always.”
“Without you getting angry and melting my head?”
I hmmed and tutted. “Dunno. You’re going to have to chanc
e it.”
He looked momentarily unsure, but as he was a gambler at heart, he took a deep breath. “I know you’re going to try to find that…person who killed your mum and you’re going to try to kill them.” I knew there was more, so I waited for him to continue, to fill the painful silence with whatever awkward truths he needed to get off his chest. “Well, I don’t want you to die, obviously, but I also don’t want us to die.”
“Why would you die? I’m not asking for you to join my crew. I don’t think tracking and hunting a vicious sorcerer requires the particular talents of a tiny, gambling stagehand.”
He straightened. “Stage manager, if it please you, and I hardly ever gamble these days. Anyway, that isn’t what I meant. I don’t want you to bring trouble to our house.”
“You do remember how we met?”
He blushed. “That was different. I was getting killed far from the Company. Don’t shit in your own backyard, Cobb says, and I didn’t.”
“All to the good, given he’s been busy shitting in it himself. But that aside, you have nothing to fear. When I go and do what I must, I assure you, I’ll do it alone.”
“You don’t have to do it at all.” His gaze tracked to his shuffling feet. “My family were killed. I saw it happen, but I’m not going to spend my life trying to hunt the killers down.” His shoulders sagged, his wings drooped. I cuffed him lightly on the ear to snap him from the maudlin funk he was about to enter.
“That’s very wise of you, really it is.” I took him by the shoulders and leveled my gaze to his. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you weren’t made to kill.”
“But you were?”
I smiled.
It was something of a surprise that murder was not committed during the ‘get in’ which was what the theatricals called the process of disgorging their junk into the theatre.
Save to help Sakura move her glittery tat from the wagon into the room she was sharing with Niobia, I stayed out of the way of the chaos and headed to the semi-circular roof where I could observe proceedings from above the painted heavens.
I must have fallen asleep and woke early the next morning wearing a blanket of dew beads, brought to consciousness by the sound of hammering and swearing. A sea of fog had drowned the world. Save for a few feet of roof tile, all else was a conjecture sketched within the smoky haze. I sat a while listening to the work below and watching the soft play of lantern light skim the river and warm the windows of the fine houses across the water. When it was time to climb down, I used one of the trap doors that opened over the stage, for no other reason than to give the crew a scare.
“All right, Fathands,” I said to Hammerhand as I descended on one of the ropes rigged to make actors fly across the stage.
“Lisping fuck.” Hammerhand’s muttered aside carried clearly from where he was working on the apron of the stage. The smell of freshly strewn rushes infused the tallowed air with the scent of last summer. “Come to try your hand at play-acting?”
“Nah, I only know how to be me,” I lied.
He grinned. “You’re in luck. Most plays have a villain, and those that don’t have a monster.”
I laughed. “Tired of life, are we?”
The other stagehands listened to our exchange while pretending to get on with their work.
He raised his mighty dabs in mock surrender. “Easy now. You wouldn’t kill me for making a joke?”
“No, of course not. I’ll kill you for being a cunt.”
“No one’s killing anyone before the opening night. It’s bad luck.” Cobb hobbled from the offices behind the stage. I had thought he’d reached the depth of poor, sartorial taste yesterday, but that was before I saw the turquoise and pink outfit he was wearing today. Breathing like a bellows, he clambered onto the stage, and drew a lung-filling breath before hooking his pipe in the corner of his mouth.
“Good, morn, all! Good to see you’re all hard at it. I have wonderful news. Gather round, my dears, gather round.”
Dutifully, those within earshot gathered before their leader who, despite looking somewhat mottled from overindulgence, was beaming. “It is with great pleasure that I can announce that we have been granted a month’s run in this fine theatre!” His words were greeted by cheering. “Tethys and Murcan love the play, and they love you.” A buzz of excitement ran through the company. The news spread quickly, and smiling faces appeared from doorways and over balconies.
“Breed, Varcan!” He set some eyes upon me and Hammerhand. “I’ve an errand to run, and I need you two to come with me. Bring your ‘accouterments’.”
Fathands sloped off to fetch whatever he considered a weapon. “Where are we going?” I asked, having no compunction to simply do what I was told.
Cobb tapped his nose and winked a couple of eyes. “To see a man about a spider.”
“You’ve got an in?” I was impressed.
The captain chuckled. “I told you, young ’un. I know people who know people.” A cluster of his eyes peered into the darkness of the tiring area where the actors were still fighting over dressing rooms. “Kellian! Where the hell is that boy?”
“You’re not taking him with us, are you?” I asked.
“What? No, don’t be daft. I’ve got notes for him. Jojo!”
Jojo fluttered down from the gallery. He had a sheaf of paper tucked under his arm, some of which floated free and swooped and dived around him. “Coming, Captain.” He picked up the errant parchment and flew over. How the great gulls that spiraled overhead hadn’t already plucked him from the air and scarfed him down was a marvel. Light as a feather, he landed on the stage.
Cobb took a notebook from his doublet and handed it to Jojo like it was holy scripture. “I want you to give the notes, Jojo.” The boy beamed. “Make sure they do a line run and make sure Fillin stays off the sauce. I want him in his best fettle for tomorrow’s dress rehearsal.”
“Y…yes, Captain. Thank you. I won’t let you down.”
Cobb mussed his hair. “I know you won’t, lad. I know you won’t.” He clapped, rubbed his hands together. “And now to our other business.”
When we were ready, the three of us headed down to the river to the quays where skiffs were moored on both banks. On this side, the mooring poles were the same green as the boats. On the far bank, the skiffs were black with silver trim and moored to black poles topped with silver lanterns. Cobb handed the nearest boatman some coin, and we boarded. “Elfing Dock, my man.”
The amphibane pocketed the coin and waited for us to board before pushing off without comment. Again, I was struck by how different but familiar this Valen was to the one I had known. In the past, I’d never traveled by river because the smaller tributaries and branches had been buried below the stilt streets and filigree walkways. Those streets didn’t exist in this version of the city where everything was built precariously on top of everything that had gone before.
Being constantly churned by barges, skiffs, punts, and pleasure boats, the river was the color of milky jade. About half a mile from where we’d boarded, where the river widened out, a gilded barge loomed from the mist, outlined by the light of golden lanterns.
“Bit early for a party, isn’t it?” I observed.
“Breaking fast on the river is all the rage,” said Cobb.
“Really?”
“Aye. The Empirifex is an early riser and loves to take breakfast on his barge, and what he does, his court does.” Cobb chuckled. “Whether they like it or not.” As we talked, the pleasure boat glided by, the oars crashing down feet from us, the bow wave almost rolling us over as it passed.
The amphibane stopped punting, his large eyes grew wide as he pointed excitedly at the golden barge. “That’s Tsen Murcatoria’s boat! Look, look! Did you see her?”
Cobb and Hammerhand were up on their haunches and strained to see who the pilot was frantically pointing at. Laughter, music, and the gentle babble of conversation burst bright upon the dull morning as the boat plowed through the flow. There we
re at least twenty passengers on deck, all garbed in fine arrachid samite and heavy, fur-trimmed cloaks. They were, for the most part, human save for a half dozen thoasa and ogren bodyguards standing by the rails. The guards glanced at our little boat with casual disdain. I didn’t take it personally; amicable sellswords were either idiots or insane, and neither kind survived long in the bodyguarding business.
“She’s beautiful.” Hammerhand breathed in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “No wonder she’s the Empirifex’s favorite.”
“Which ‘she’ in particular? There are half a dozen.”
He looked at me like I’d just told him I shoved sticks up my arse for fun. “You’re not serious? Look at her.” He pointed.
I looked up, and was indeed captivated, not by the wench, but by a fellow standing on the top deck. He had straw blonde hair and was wrapped against the chill off the river in a purple, wool cloak, a golden circlet was set upon his pale brow. He was laughing and talking animatedly, a silver mug of steaming chai clutched in his tentacle. The clothes, the goblet, and the appendage were new to me, but there was no mistaking the face that had haunted me for years.
“What’s up, Breed?” said Cobb. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer, as my heart had relocated from its usual position in my chest to my mouth and had quite stoppered up my bunghole. All I could do was stand upon the bow and watch Tobias Vulsones sail away.
14
“Breed?” Cobb tapped me on the shoulder. Hammerhand was standing on a dock. The boat pilot was in the bow of his vessel leaning on the tiller. “I said we’re here. I said…Are you all right?”
Hammerhand snorted. “Probably having another funny turn.”
I got out of the boat. “I was just imagining what it would be like taking you roughly from behind, Fathands. You enjoyed it far more than I did.” I winked.
Cobb slapped a hand across his second’s chest as he lunged towards me. “Belay that shit! We’re in the wrong neighborhood for such foolery.”
