by P. T. Hylton
She bent down and picked up the dagger with a shaky hand. Long ago, when she’d first entered the Ferox Academy, she’d wrestled with the question of whether she could take a life. She’d decided she could. Now she needed to prove it.
She took a step toward the Cragsman, then paused. He looked so pathetic crouching there. She was shocked to find herself feeling empathy, and she struggled to push the feeling down.
She thought of those kidney punches. Of the way he’d driven her face-first into the stone, of the way he’d gone for her knee. But still she hesitated.
“A bit of advice, Ms. Rhodes,” the proctor said. “The ferox who hesitates misses her opportunity. Didn’t Zane ever tell you that?”
Yes, Zane had told her. That and so much else.
She suddenly remembered his words to her just before the exam. Remember the important things—the most important thing—I’ve told you many times. Understand?
He had been trying to tell her something specific. But what?
She looked at the dagger in her hand and suddenly she knew.
She let the blade fall to the ground, and she turned to the proctor. “No. I won’t kill him.”
The proctor’s face was stone. “And why not?”
She remembered the most important thing, the thing Zane had told her again and again: Never kill for free.
“Because you’re not paying me,” Lily said.
The proctor smiled. “Welcome, Sister Ferox.”
CHAPTER NINE
Zane walked casually up the spiraling staircase, acutely aware of his surroundings. When he reached the fifth-floor landing, he stopped, closed his eyes and listened. Hearing nothing and feeling no vibrations in the banister, he opened his eyes. There was no one else on the staircase. Or, if there was, they weren’t moving.
He unlocked the window and eased it open. He leaned out and looked down. He couldn’t see Faraday and Von Ridden standing on the ground below, but he knew they were there. Von Ridden must have been using a shimmer to hide them.
Still, they would have to be fast. Jacob had assured Zane they would be.
Zane gave them a quick nod to signal the way was clear. And suddenly Zane could see them.
Von Ridden reached out and touched Faraday’s arm. The two of them shot into the air as if fired from a crossbow. Zane felt the breath catch in his throat. All the glides he had ever seen had provided a gentle rise. This was something else entirely. It made Zane wonder what other surprises Jacob may have brought with him. It also made him a bit concerned for his plan.
Zane took a step back. Faraday and Jacob stopped the instant they reached the height of the window and hovered there. Faraday’s face was pale and his eyes were wide. Zane didn’t blame him.
Jacob waved toward the window, an easy, magnanimous smile on his face, motioning for Faraday to go first. The King’s Sword put a shaky hand on the window frame and pulled himself through.
“That was effective,” he said in a gruff voice.
Jacob quickly followed him through the window and latched it behind them. “Indeed.” He looked at Zane. “Any surprises?”
“Not so far,” Zane said. There would be a surprise coming shortly, but Zane wouldn’t be the one surprised.
He led them up the steps toward Danum’s study. As they walked, Jacob asked, “How do you think your girl is doing? She seemed confident.”
Zane answered without turning back toward him. “Ideally, I wouldn’t have pressed her to take the exam for at least another year. But she has a decent chance.”
After a few moments, Jacob said, “I’m curious what you told her about me.”
“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Zane said.
“Ah, but not the whole truth, I’ll bet. You didn’t tell her about the months you spent working for me behind your mentor’s back. Or about the job we did down at the docks. Or about what really happened the night you resigned your abditus apprenticeship. Tell me I’m wrong.”
No, he hadn’t told Lily those things. But he promised himself he would if he made it through this. Someday.
“Danum’s office is up ahead,” Zane said. “You’ll want to keep your voices down.”
“I’m masking our voices. I’ll make Faraday and myself invisible, too.”
When they reached the top of the stairs, Zane glanced at Faraday. The Sword hadn’t said a word since coming through the window. Zane wondered what the man really thought of Jacob. He seemed indifferent toward him. At least Faraday wasn’t fawning over Jacob like he would be if he’d been shimmered. That was something.
Jacob and Faraday both blinked out of sight as Jacob activated his shimmer.
A single guard stood outside Danum’s study. He must have been expecting Zane, and he nodded toward him in greeting. Zane nodded back, trying hard not to think about the two men behind him.
The guard opened the door, and Zane paused, giving Jacob and Faraday time to enter the room. He then followed them in, nodding again to the mildly confused guard, who shut the door once Zane was through.
Charles Danum sat behind his desk. A bottle and two empty glasses rested on the desk in front of him. A wide smile broke out on his face as Zane entered.
“Ah, there you are!” he said. “Drink?”
Zane hesitated.
Danum waved a hand at him disgustedly. “Come on! If not now, when? It’s not every day your apprentice takes her exam.” Without waiting for a reply, he poured two fingers of dark liquor into each of glass. “I thought we might discuss this Jacob Von Ridden situation while we waited for Lily’s results.”
Zane slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket. “Yes. About that.” He activated the thorn in his pocket, and Von Ridden and Faraday, suddenly visible, collapsed onto the floor like sacks of meat.
Danum jumped to his feet. “Good Lord! Isn’t that the King’s Sword and Shadow?”
“Yes,” Zane said, willing the patience into his voice.
“My God, man, what are they doing here?”
“They’re here to kill you,” Zane said. “As am I.” He held up a hand before Danum could respond. “Those were our orders from the king. I had another idea.”
Von Ridden and Faraday squirmed on the floor, making odd jerky movements with their hands and legs. A strange croaking moan came from Faraday, but Jacob was silent.
“What the hell did you do to them?” Danum asked.
“I’ve taken away their senses. They can’t see, hear, taste, smell, or feel anything. Can’t even sense their own bodies, hence their odd mannerisms at the moment. They can still speak, technically, but I imagine that’s challenging when you can’t feel your tongue or lips.” He took the small metal thorn out of his pocket and held it up for Danum to see. “I’m going to give Jacob back his senses now.”
Danum started to protest, but it was too late.
Jacob’s eyes suddenly focused, and he struggled to his hands and knees. He looked at Zane with fury in his eyes. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, but when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly even. “Well, that was interesting. Care to explain?”
Zane held out the thorn so Jacob could see Farns’ marking on it.
“Irving Farns could take away the senses one at a time,” Zane said. “I’m not quite as deft a hand. It’s kind of an all or nothing deal. So let’s behave.”
Jacob struggled to his feet. “So that display was, what, to frighten me?”
“I needed to have a conversation with the two of you. And I needed you to know I can incapacitate you at any time.” He glanced at Danum. “That goes for you, too. Each of you wants the other dead. I’d like to propose a third solution. I’d like to propose that no one dies today.”
Jacob nodded toward Faraday, who was still wriggling on the floor and making soft, guttural sounds. “What about him?”
Zane said, “We don’t need him for this discussion.” He looked back and forth between the two men standing with him. “Danum, the king wants you dead. He thinks it will appease Tavel.
They’re a little angry about that ferox they captured working in their nation.”
“They haven’t captured one,” Danum said. “They’ve captured three.”
Zane glanced at Jacob. “Is that true?”
Jacob nodded curtly.
Zane grunted. More lies. He continued, “Jacob, Danum wants you dead because he believes you’re influencing the king’s views on the Ferox Society, and to send the king a message. The problem is you’re both forgetting one thing.”
He waited a moment to see if either of them would say it. They didn’t, so he continued.
“You’re forgetting the ferox, sorry, three ferox rotting in a Tavel prison waiting for their public torture and executions.”
Danum’s eyes went wide. “I don’t see how I can be expected—”
Zane slammed his hand down on the oak surface of the desk. “Charles, you’re the head of the damn Ferox Society. If you don’t save them, who will?”
Danum looked away, abashed.
Zane looked at Jacob.
For the first time since he’d regained his faculties, Von Ridden gave a weak smile. “You do know we can’t go back to the king and tell him we failed. It will not end well. For any of us, but for you especially.”
Zane grimaced at Jacob. He wanted to say he knew this wasn’t going to end well for him either way, but he didn’t. He still needed to sell Jacob on his idea.
“Here’s what I’m proposing,” he said. “We go back the king and tell him we killed Danum.” He turned to Danum. “You meet with three of your most trusted advisors, no more. Tell them what’s happening. Even name your replacement if you want.”
Danum’s face grew red. “My replacement? What the hell are you talking about?”
Zane put a hand on the man’s arm. “Charles, the king needs you dead to avoid a war. If it’s not us tonight, it’ll be someone else tomorrow. Or the night after. I’m sorry, but your life is over. We need to work on getting you a new one. That’s where he comes in.” He pointed at Jacob.
Jacob’s eyes widened and his smiled broadened. “Is that so?”
“Listen,” Zane continued, “you said you could get a ship for me. Make me disappear. I assume you can do the same for Danum?”
“Theoretically,” Jacob said.
“Good. Get the ship and have it take Danum to Tavel.” He turned to Danum. “Take a couple ferox with you if you need to, but no one who will be missed. You used to be the best at this sort of thing. Can you be again?”
Danum looked at Zane for a long moment before speaking. “You want me to rescue the prisoners.”
Zane nodded. “When you get to Tavel, you’ll need to procure three fresh bodies. Then break into the prison, rescue the prisoners, and leave the bodies in their place. Jacob will give you a shimmer that’ll make the authorities think the bodies are the ferox they captured and another to make it look like they killed themselves. That’ll be enough for the Tavel authorities to think the ferox carried out some sort of suicide pact. Can you provide the shimmers, Jacob?”
“Again, theoretically.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I don’t mean to be crass, but I’m still waiting to hear how letting Ferox Danum live benefits me?”
“Simple,” Zane said. “It gives you power. You’ll know something the king doesn’t.”
“I know many things the king doesn’t,” Von Ridden said.
Zane paused, then tried again. “They’d be a secret sect of ferox, led by one of the best in modern history, operating on foreign soil and reporting back to you alone. If that’s not power—”
Something grabbed at Zane’s hand, snatching away the thorn he was holding.
Faraday dropped the thorn to the ground and, with a howl, raised his sword and brought it down, slamming the hilt into the thorn and smashing it into a hundred tiny pieces.
He spun toward Zane and shifted the sword to a two hand grip. His eyes burned with fury.
Jacob Von Ridden sighed. “I was afraid this might happen.”
***
Faraday turned, looking back and forth between Jacob and Zane. In another circumstance, Zane might have found it humorous the way his head pivoted between his two supposed allies.
“You were afraid this might happen?” Faraday asked. “What are you talking about?”
“I was referring to you recovering from the effects of Zane’s thorn.” Jacob turned to Zane. “The sword—the actual weapon, not the man—has a tangle built into it near the pommel. See the curve of it? It’s a bit more generalized than I normally like to use, but it’s powerful. Even works against a Farns thorn after a few minutes, apparently.” He scratched at his chin. “I accept your proposal by the way.”
Zane nodded quickly. Good. One obstacle cleared. He casually put his hand on his sword hilt and turned to Faraday. “Listen, I’m sorry about using the thorn on you, but there’s something we have to discuss. Killing Danum doesn’t solve—”
“Save your breath,” Jacob said. “He’s a king’s man through and through. You’re going to have to kill him.”
Faraday’s head was pivoting wildly back and forth again. “What is going on?”
“Jacob, we’re not doing that,” Zane said. “Faraday, please, there might be a better way to carry out the king’s wishes than by following the letter of his orders.”
Faraday’s face darkened. “I’ve heard that before. You know who says it? Traitors. Always traitors. I came here to do a job.” He lunged toward Danum, sword outstretched.
The clang of steel-on-steel rang out as Zane deflected the blow.
Faraday’s eyes widened once again.
“Faraday, listen to me. I don’t want to fight you.”
Faraday grinned and Zane saw bloodlust in those eyes. “Traitor.”
Zane glanced at Von Ridden. “Care to help?”
“I really don’t,” Jacob said. “Let’s hope you were holding back yesterday.”
As if on cue, Faraday attacked.
For a moment, Zane thought he’d lost the fight before it had properly begun. He’d been unfocused and distracted by Jacob. He hadn’t anticipated Faraday’s attack, and he barely brought his sword up fast enough to deflect the blow. Faraday pressed the advantage, each strike designed to expose him in a new way, and the series of strikes designed to force an opening through which Faraday could stab him.
There was no banter as they fought. Faraday was too professional for such things, and Zane was too focused on prolonging his life for at least a few more parries.
Faraday was like nothing Zane had ever seen before. If anything, he was moving faster than he had the previous day. His bloodlust was up, and he was holding nothing back. He moved through the forms, the same forms Zane had studied since he was a boy. With the best swordsmen, the forms looked like an elegant dance. But with Faraday it something more. It was like watching a bird in flight. It was so natural. It was as if Faraday’s blade was part of the natural order of the universe.
As he struggled desperately to stay alive, Zane realized something. Faraday had been training with the blade for nearly all his life. He’d probably always been one of the best in his age group, which meant he would have been paired against the best in sparring sessions. Now he mostly fought Swords of other kings, and then only for tournament wins and bragging rights. His opponents were master swordsmen who knew the proper response to every move. Even in his role as the king’s personal representative in combat, he would only face off against the enemy’s elite. The grunts would have been cleared away before Faraday entered a section of the battlefield.
Zane realized Faraday rarely, if ever, fought brawlers.
As Faraday thrust his sword, Zane parried and then lunged toward his opponent, wildly over-committing and throwing himself off balance as he swung. It was a move no trained swordsman would even consider, and Zane saw from the surprise in Faraday’s eyes that this had been the opposite of what he’d been expecting.
Faraday managed to parry Zane’s thrust, but as he did Zane
punched him in the nose with his free hand. Zane then took a quick step back and stabbed Faraday in the hand. Faraday’s sword, the Sword’s sword, clattered to the floor.
Zane held his blade to his opponent’s neck. “Now you’ll listen.”
Jacob clucked his tongue. “You’re wasting your time. He has to die.”
Faraday made no effort to move away from Zane’s blade. He knew he was beaten. He breathed heavily and stared daggers at Zane as he awaited his fate.
“Jacob,” Zane said, “isn’t there something else you can do? A way to, I don’t know, change his way of thinking?”
A bemused smile crossed Jacob’s face. “Are you seriously asking me to shimmer this man’s feelings? Because I believe you made your thoughts on that matter clear many years ago.”
“I’m trying to save his life!” Zane barked.
“I’ll go along with your plan,” Jacob said. “But he’s my price. Faraday has to die.”
“I trusted you, Von Ridden.” Faraday spat out the words.
“Von Ridden’s right, Zane,” Danum said. “For your plan to work, Faraday has to die.”
Zane blinked hard. There had to be another way. He certainly wasn’t above killing. But there was something so pure about Faraday. So honorable. He was that rarest of things: a good man. Zane couldn’t allow him to die.
Jacob moved like a snake. He jabbed something toward Faraday’s back three times—thuk, thuk, thuk—and then held up his hand, showing the bloody knife.
Faraday cried out and clutched at Zane’s shirt even as he sank to his knees.
“There,” Jacob said. “Problem solved.”
Zane moved around to see the wounds. He silently cursed at what he saw. Jacob had known his business. He’d punctured both lungs and stabbed him in the left kidney for good measure. Even if they could get him to a doctor in time, which was doubtful, his chances of surviving were horrendous.
“You going to let him suffer?” Jacob asked.
“No,” Zane answered, and he stabbed Faraday in the chest, finishing the job.
Zane took a deep breath. It was taking everything he had to restrain himself from attacking Von Ridden. They needed him, Zane reminded himself. Even after this, they needed him.
