Solyrian Conspiracy - C M Raymond & L E Barbant

by Michael Anderle

  Irmand shook his head. "Some of the most successful revolts began in chains."

  Hannah held her breath and pushed further into Irmand’s mind.

  But the bloodiest of all revolutions come from foreigners inside the city, she suggested in the corners of his mind.

  “We have nearly decimated the Blue Scarves revolution,” the guard said.

  Irmand nodded. “Yes, but sometimes, the bloodiest revolutions come from foreigners inside the city.”

  The young man by his side smiled. “The magician and her friends, then?”

  Irmand’s face lost all expression, and then he smiled broadly. “Indeed. We should get back to the great hall and keep watch.”

  As the footsteps of the captain of the guard and his trusted colleague faded back toward the stairwell, Hannah stepped away from the wall and walked toward the end of the hall. Prisoners looked up from several more cells, resigned to their place in the prison. Hannah could only imagine how these Mylek people might have tried to transform their bodies to escape the cells.

  At the end of the corridor sat a single cell separated from the rest.

  “You,” Aliz said as Hannah stepped up to the bars.

  She got off her cot and crossed the tiny room. The women stood eye to eye for a moment in silence. Hannah scanned her face. She was pretty, her features sharp and distinct. Her cheek was bruised on the left-hand side, indicating that she had taken more than one blow, probably from someone’s fist. Hannah wondered if Irmand had already tried to pry information about the Blue Scarves and their plots out of her.

  “Have you come to finish me off?” she asked.

  “Depends,” Hannah replied, “on what you’ve got to say.”

  “More torture, then?” the girl asked.

  “Not my style. Just a conversation.”

  Aliz laughed. “The daughter of the Matriarch has a soft-spot? Not something I’d expect.”

  “Not one of the faithful?” Hannah dragged a chair over from the other side of the room. “Justice understands that there are three sides to every story.”

  “Three?” Aliz asked as she sat.

  “Yes: yours, theirs, and what actually happened. I’ve heard what those holding the keys have to say. Now I want to hear from the one behind bars.”

  “What if I say no?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Then you stay here, and I go back to the party. They have this one kick-ass dish. Little shrimpy thing on a toothpick. You know the one?”

  Aliz kept her eyes on Hannah. There was strength in them. A fire burned inside her. Hannah took a second to dip into the woman’s mind. As before, it was a storm of emotion, but in addition to the rage and fear, Hannah caught a hint of uncanny calmness in the shadows of the turmoil.

  Hannah raised a hand to run over the headache forming behind her ear. “Last chance.”

  The girl sighed. “I’ll talk to you. For whatever it’s worth.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if it was worth nothing,” Hannah replied. She reached into her sling bag and pulled out a small flask. She pushed it through the bars toward Aliz. "A little something from the celebration to wet your whistle."

  The girl smiled and looked sideways at the flask. "In the days before the Madness, there was a saying, ‘Look a gift pig between the teeth.’ Have you heard that one?"

  Hannah tilted her head to the side. "I've heard a lot from the old days. Not that one. It's freaking weird, but I think I get your drift."

  Aliz laughed a little and smiled. "Sure, it's weird, and helpful.” She raised the flask toward Hannah. "But I think I'm going to choose to trust the giver, even though ancient wisdom advises against it. I’ve never been one to follow the old ways, and even if it is poison, I’m thirsty.”

  The girl closed her eyes and tilted the flask back, letting the sharp liquor bite her tongue. After a moment, she brought it down and pushed the flask back through the bars. "I sure hope that wasn’t my last drink in Irth."

  Hannah took the flask and gave the young woman a wink. "If it's yours, it's ours.” She took her own drink slowly. Handing the flask back through the bars, she said, "The rest is yours. It’s storytime."

  Aliz laughed and took another sip, this one slower and more intentional. "It’s good to drink from the court’s store once again. It's been a long time for me, and I have seldom tasted liquor from the barrels beneath the great hall. Usually, I only drink the slop they serve down in the Flats."

  “The Flats?”

  “Yeah. It’s where the Mylek hang out at night. Not a place you’d want your kids to go.”

  Hannah couldn’t help but grin. “We have a similar place where I come from. They called it the Boulevard.”

  “So, you stayed away from there?”

  She shook her head. “Was born and raised there.”

  “Maybe we’re more alike than I expected.” The young woman moved toward the wall and sat, then stretched her legs out in front of her and set the silver flask between them. “You’ve been here long enough to see what life is like for people like me.”

  “I have,” Hannah agreed. “But I don’t see how burning down buildings changes that.”

  “It didn’t start that way. At first, we just wanted to make a statement, you know? Let the world know that we wouldn’t be kicked to death quietly. We never meant to hurt anyone.”

  “You could have fooled me. What changed?”

  Aliz took a long drink. “The king.”

  “From what I hear, Aurel was good for the Mylek.”

  “He was,” Aliz said. “The best we had ever known. He put one of us on the council. Made some serious changes. For the first time ever, a system that had seemed etched in stone started to fade. We felt hope.”

  Hannah nodded, listening to the woman’s story. "Having hope in a city of injustice is not such a bad thing."

  “No.” Aliz shrugged. “But it can be dangerous.”

  The way the young Mylek stared at Hannah, it was as if she knew Hannah’s own story of hope.

  “I guess it can,” Hannah admitted.

  “And it wasn’t just the Mylek who felt that way. Plenty of Myrna resisted the king’s changes. Like his asshole son.”

  “Kirill.” Hannah grimaced. “I thought he worshiped his dad.”

  Aliz laughed. “Maybe to his face, but just look at how things have changed since Aurel’s death. Kirill is already trying to beef up his control of the guard. Irmand and his assholes can basically do whatever they want. He’s raised taxes on the Mylek, and instead of using that money to help the city, he’s filling his war chest.”

  She paused and studied Hannah’s face before continuing. “The prince only cares about one thing, which is power. He hated the fact that his dad was weakening the throne, and before his dad was cold, he started reversing those decisions. Before long, we’ll lose every right we have. That’s why the Blue Scarves did what we did. We have to show the Mylek that they’re strong. Strong enough to fight back. Can you understand that?”

  Hannah could understand that, all too well. But something held her back from believing fully. “You’re awfully young to be a revolutionary.”

  Aliz shrugged. "I don't know. My mother died when I was young. My father couldn’t care less about me. Basically, I have no family, so fighting and dying to make things better sounds like a good exchange to me. I guess it’s easy when you’ve got little to lose.”

  “Everyone has something to lose.”

  “Not me.” Aliz sighed. “All hope I had in a better life died when Aurel did. There was talk that maybe he’d appoint someone other than Kirill to the throne, but that was just another hope dashed. Kirill will win, and then we will all lose.”

  Hannah let the woman sit there and drink from the flask. Her words were slow and measured. Careful. Hannah couldn't help but wonder if Aliz thought Hannah was still her enemy. She dipped into the woman's mind again and found that it was, for the first time, at peace. Fully calm. Trusting. Maybe it was the alcohol running through her veins. It
was, after all, why Hannah had brought it in the first place. She rubbed her headache again, wishing she had saved more of that drink for herself.

  Finally, Hannah rose to her feet.

  “Storytime is over?” Aliz asked. “What comes next?”

  “I don’t know.” Hannah stared down at the girl. She seemed so fragile. “Listen, I promised this city I would do what I can to help, and I meant it. We’re going to find Aurel’s murderer, and we’re going to try to set things right. I don’t know where that leaves you. As powerful as I am, I don’t have the power to forgive what you did and the people you hurt. But I understand, and I’ll try to make sure the ones holding the keys understand too. Just give me some time.”

  Aliz tilted back the flask and finished its contents, then tossed it between the bars and started to laugh. "You make one hell of a speech, you know that? Unfortunately, your time is almost up. Once Kirill is elected, it won't matter what evidence you might find. He'll be in complete control, and Kirill will destroy everything good—starting with us."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The Lynqi are hunters born and raised, the bounty of the Kaskaran jungle providing more than enough for the cat-people’s survival. Vitali could track a goat through the mountain cliffs. He could pluck a wild turkey before it even noticed he was there. He could take down a tiger with his paws.

  But even if he was a blindfolded remnant, following Thaed would have been easy.

  The large soldier stumbled drunkenly through the streets, mumbling loudly to himself as he went. Vitali could smell the old sweat and cheap booze rolling off the man from two blocks back.

  Thaed seemed to have no clear direction. His drunken wandering was taking them on a meandering path through the city, but before long, a new scent filled Vitali’s senses.

  Burnt wood.

  The large building smoldered in the night. Hannah and the others had prevented most of it from collapsing, but it would take months of work for the building to be habitable again.

  Which made it the perfect location for Vitali to do his work.

  He pulled his hood more tightly around his face and sprinted for the building. He slowed to a walk as he turned the corner, Thaed in his sights.

  He moved slowly toward him.

  “Excuse me,” Vitali said, his voice low. “I was wondering if you could give me directions. I appear to be lost.”

  “What?” Thaed hadn’t even noticed Vitali approaching. “Fuck off, ya wanker.”

  Vitali stepped closer and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “That’s not very kind, friend. I heard that this city was known for its hospitality.”

  Thaed knocked Vitali’s paw aside. “I said, get the hell away from me.” He tried to walk past, but Vitali shifted to stay in front of him.

  “Please. It will only take a minute.”

  “It will take less time than that for me to knock you on your ass.” The drunk man’s words came out slow and slurred. He swayed from one foot to the other as his eyes flashed black, and Vitali prepared for the magic that was about to follow, but nothing happened. Thaed stared at his empty hands.

  “Trouble getting it up?” Vitali laughed. “I heard that can happen if you drink too much.”

  Thaed yelled, then balled up his large fist and swung. Vitali leaned back as it sailed by. The man stared, dumbfounded.

  “How’d you do that?”

  “If you think that’s impressive,” Vitali smiled, “wait until you see this.”

  He jumped, planting one foot on the man’s chest and using the other to kick skyward as he flipped around. Vitali landed in a silent crouch and watched the lumbering man fall rigid to the ground. A second later, his snores filled the alley.

  Vitali stalked around the unconscious man, wondering how to proceed. It seemed the nice approach wasn’t working. Time to try something a bit more Hannah-like.

  Carrying Thaed up the stairs, finding a chair stable enough to support his weight, and tying him to it was easier than what came next.

  Vitali had to wake him up.

  Whether due to the amount of booze swimming through the man’s veins, or perhaps because Vitali had kicked him harder than he’d planned, Thaed was out cold. His snores echoed throughout the burnt shell of the building. Vitali shouted and slapped the man, to no avail. Then he found a bucket half-full of rainwater and dumped it on Thaed’s head.

  That did the trick.

  “The hell is going on here?” he growled

  “What’s going on,” Vitali said quietly from the shadows, “is that I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to answer.”

  Thaed tried to lunge at him, but the ropes and the chair held.

  “I’m goin’ to rip your arms off, ya dumb bastard.”

  Vitali stepped into a beam of moonlight that shone into the burned-out building. He reached up and slowly lowered his hood.

  “What the fu—”

  Before Thaed could finish, Vitali shoved the man’s chest. The chair tipped backward and started to fall through the hole in the floor, a hole that led to a three-story drop.

  Before Thaed could plummet headfirst to the ground floor, Vitali grabbed a rope that hung from a sturdy beam in the ceiling down to Thaed’s chair. He held tight, keeping the drunken man suspended upside-down over the gap.

  “Shit shit shit shit shit,” the Myrna cried over and over, like a prayer that might save his hide.

  Vitali pulled down on the rope, lifting Thaed back into a sitting position. His curses gave way to whimpers.

  “What do ya want?” Thaed sniveled, clearly aware that he was on the edge of mortal danger.

  “I told you,” Vitali growled, placing his paws on the man’s legs, talons fully extended, and squeezing. “I need information. Tell me about Aurel.”

  The Lynqi didn’t know what to expect since he wasn’t used to this style of operating. Having Thaed burst into tears was definitely not part of the plan.

  Vitali stood up and stared at the blubbering mess.

  “The king, he was a good man,” Thaed said with a sniffle. “He always seemed to know how I was feelin’, and he knew the right words to cheer me up. What kind of king does that? I was his personal guard. I protected him for ten fuckin’ years, but I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him.”

  Vitali jumped in with a question before Thaed’s sobs overtook him. “What happened that night? What were you doing outside the great hall so late?”

  Thaed sat up straighter. “I can’t say. I swore I’d keep my damned mouth shut.”

  Vitali fought the urge to pace. He considered tipping him over again, but he was no good at playing Hannah. Besides, the broken man in front of him just might shatter.

  He decided to try the nice method again.

  Vitali crouched in front of him. “Do you know who I am?”

  Thaed nodded but wouldn’t look at him.

  “Do you know why I’m here?”

  “You’re with her,” he finally stated.

  “That’s right,” Vitali answered. “And we’re here to help. I’m trying to find Justice for your king, to find out what happened to him. You can help me do that. You can help me stop your king’s killers. Doesn’t Aurel deserve that?”

  Thaed nodded again, but this time, he met Vitali’s eyes. Then he took a deep breath and told his story.

  “Like I said, the king was a good man, but even good men deserve some...indiscretions. Aurel liked women.” He raised a brow. “I mean, who doesn’t?”

  “He had a mistress?” Vitali clarified.

  “Yeah. At least, that was what I always figured. He never introduced me, but I took him to the same house every night without fail. He would bring these nicely wrapped gifts along. Always insisted on carryin’ them himself. I’d stand guard for a couple hours, and then we’d return to the great hall.”

  “Who was in that house?” Vitali asked, trying to hide the desperation in his voice. Hannah needed these answers. The city needed answers.

 
; Thaed shrugged. “Don’t know. Only time I ever went in was the night he died. I heard a scream, busted down the door, and found him covered in blood.”

  Covered in blood, Vitali thought, but he didn’t have any external wounds.

  Thaed’s tears startled Vitali from his thoughts.

  “Hey,” Vitali shouted. “There will be time to mourn later. Who else knew about this? About Aurel’s late-night visits?”

  “No one,” Thaed said. “I was the only guard to ever go with him, and Aurel swore me to secrecy.”

  “Not Kirill? Not Irmand?”

  “Are you shittin’ me? They were shocked when I showed up with the dead king. Kirill asked me a million questions, then told me to keep my damn mouth shut and fired me on the spot. Not that I blame him. It’s my fault he’s dead. Irmand gave me a sack of gold and sent me on my way.”

  Vitali stared deep into the man’s eyes but found no dishonesty. He untied the ropes.

  Thaed looked up at him. “What do I do now?”

  “You’ll leave here and be the kind of man Aurel would be proud of. You’ll stop drinking. Stop bullying. You’ll put that gold to good use.”

  Thaed nodded. “I-I can do that.”

  “But first,” Vitali continued, “I still need directions.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Thaed moved more swiftly through the city now that he had sobered up a bit. It didn’t take them long to make it to their destination—a small, neat-looking house in an otherwise rundown part of town. Most of the homes were faded and looked cheaply built, with thick doors and boarded-up windows, but this house appeared well maintained. Inviting, even.

  “Here she is,” Thaed said. He stared at the door like it was going to jump out and bite him.

  Vitali nodded. “Why don’t you wait outside? Like old times.”

  Thaed sighed in relief. “Thanks. Don’t think I could go back in there.”

  Vitali pushed the door open, and it creaked on bent hinges. There was no lock, Thaed had broken it the day Aurel died, and no one thought it necessary to repair it. The interior was well-maintained, much like the exterior. Small and well furnished. It would have been a lovely place to live, save for the large bloodstain on the ornate rug in the center of the room. Vitali crouched to look at where King Aurel had breathed his last. Nijah was right.