by R S Penney
Luckily, it was only Miri.
In dungarees and a long, brown coat, she walked through the aisle with a huge smile on her face. “Was I interrupting something?” she cooed, claiming the seat in front of Tommy.
Red-faced, Tommy heaved out a breath. He scrubbed the back of one hand across his brow. “Nothing of consequence,” he whispered. “Did you need something?”
“The train’s clear,” Miri reported. “I don’t think anyone is paying much attention to us. I was thinking we could meet in my cabin and review the plan.”
She departed without another word. Tommy knew the protocol; he would wait a few minutes and then follow. Everything had to look casual. There was no reason why anyone should care about the comings and goings of a few travelers from the country, but a man and a woman slipping into one of the sleeping compartments in the middle of the day might elicit gossip. And gossip had a way of spreading.
He was so lost in his reverie that he barely noticed Dalen in the corner of his eye. The other man was glaring at him.
“What?” Tommy muttered.
“Are you that ashamed to be seen with me?”
Wincing, Tommy turned his face away from the other man. “Of course not,” he said. “But if anyone saw us, they would be scandalized. I guarantee you they would remember our faces.”
Dalen sat back with his arms folded, a frown tightening his mouth. “Scandalized because they saw two men in love,” he grumbled. “No one seems to mind when it’s a man and a woman. I see couples holding hands all the time.”
“Holding hands and kissing are two very different things.”
“That’s not the point, and you know it.”
“This isn’t Aladar!” Tommy hissed. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I was thrown into a cell and nearly executed because my own brother caught me kissing another man! I would love to strike a blow for fairness and justice, but right now, we have a mission!”
He took that opportunity to end the conversation and make his way to the back of the train. Dalen would follow in a minute or two. A little time apart would do them good. Tommy was livid. He understood his lover’s pain; he understood better than Dalen might imagine. The shame of having to hide who you were and the rage that shame inspired. None of that was Dalen’s fault, but it wasn’t Tommy’s fault either.
He found Miri’s compartment in one of the sleeping cars. A soft knock at the door gained him entrance. It was a cramped space with two bunks. Kalia was stretched out on the top one while Miri sat on the bottom.
“Dalen will be along in a moment.”
The other man appeared as soon as Tommy finished speaking, shouldering his way inside and claiming a spot in the corner. He said nothing, gave no sign that he was in any way upset, which was probably for the best. But it left Tommy on edge.
“Sonic-Sinks,” Miri muttered.
With a thought, Tommy triggered the Infusions that he had placed in the walls of her compartment. He had worked on them for half an hour last night. They represented some of the best Field Binding he had ever done. The Sinks he had created would dampen sound in one direction, creating a box of silence around this tiny room. No one outside would hear anything that was said within these walls. The trade-off was that they would have no warning if anyone decided to barge in. “It’s done,” Tommy said.
“Grand,” Miri replied. “So, how do we locate Timothy Delarac once we arrive in New Beloran?” They had discussed this issue on the ride northward. Thus far, they had failed to create a viable plan.
Dalen perked up, grinning as if he had just come up with a grand idea. Which, he probably had. “I was thinking about it,” he said. “If we can get into the Hall of Records, we might be able to find his address. From there-”
Miri snorted, rolling her eyes. “You boys insist on doing everything the hard way,” she said. “If you go poking around in the Hall of Records, someone will demand to know who you are. And then word will get back to Mr. Delarac.”
“So, what do you suggest?” Tommy inquired.
Miri studied him for a very long moment, her eyebrows slowly climbing up her forehead. “Didn’t you tell me you can feel the Sinks and Sources you create?” she asked. “That you always know exactly where they are?”
“That is how it works, yes,” Kalia confirmed.
“So, all we have to do is get Timothy Delarac to take one of Tommy’s Infusions back to his home, and then we’ll know where he lives.”
Pressing a fist to his mouth, Dalen cleared his throat. “Pardon the interruption,” he said. “But your plan seems like something of a paradox. To plant a Sink or Source on Mr. Delarac’s person, we would first have to know where he is.”
Hunching over with an elbow on her thigh, Miri rested her chin on the back of her hand. Her wicked grin made it clear that she had anticipated this objection. “Sweetheart, you’re forgetting that we already know where Mr. Delarac will be for eight hours a day, four days a week.”
“The Parliament Building,” Kalia observed.
“Indeed.”
“Then why not just capture him there?” Dalen asked.
Heaving out a sigh, Miri shook her head in dismay. “Too public,” she said. “We try it, and the City Watch will be on top of us before we can breathe. We need time to interrogate him so that we can find out how he’s controlling Adele.”
Drumming his fingers on the wall behind him, Tommy looked up at the ceiling. “So, let me see if I understand this,” he said. “You want to corner Mr. Delarac on the Parliament Building steps so that you can slip an Infused coin into his pocket?”
“Who said anything about an Infused coin?” she scoffed. “Once again, you boys do everything the hard way. Tommy, how long does it take you to create an Infusion?”
“It depends on how strong you need it to be.”
“Does the strength affect your ability to track it?”
“No,” he answered quickly. “I can track my Infusions even if they’re down to their last trickle of energy. Why do you ask?”
Miri was beaming at him. He had seen that particular smile before, and he knew that she had come up with something truly devilish. “Because we’re going to be spending a lot of time outside the Parliament Building,” she said. “We’ll come up with some excuse. Maybe we’re selling pastries or taking donations for the poor. When we see Mr. Delarac’s carriage pull up, you’ll Infuse it-”
“And then all we have to do is wait for the driver to take him home,” Tommy whispered. “Genius!”
Retrieving a slip of paper from her bag, Miri unfolded it to reveal a charcoal sketch of a man with a thick mustache and long sideburns. The detail was exquisite: the wrinkles on his forehead, the prominent nose. “Dalen, you are a remarkable artist.”
He nodded curtly, accepting the compliment. “Desa described him for me,” he said. “I just followed her instructions.”
“We wait for him to come out of the Parliament Building,” Miri said. “We see which carriage picks him up, and then Tommy Infuses it.”
“Well then,” Dalen said. “Since that’s settled, I think I’ll get some lunch.”
Tommy was about to ask if he wanted company, but the other man just stormed out. His heart sank. He had hoped that Dalen’s anger might have abated. Maybe they could talk about it tonight in their cabin. “Excuse me,” Tommy murmured. “I seem to be a bit peckish myself.”
Two days later, they arrived at New Beloran Station. Tommy was jostled by several impatient people as he exited the train. The throng of bodies pulled him along like a leaf caught in the flow of a river.
When the crowd dispersed, leaving him on the long, stone platform, he got his first breath of fresh air since boarding the train at Albream. The noonday sun was shining bright in a cloudless sky, but the wind was sharp with a tinge of winter’s chill lingering.
He stood on the platform in a simple, brown duster and a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes, gnawing on a toothpick. His suitcase was heavy, and the added weight of Miri
’s bag left a slight ache between his shoulder blades.
“You don’t have to carry that, you know,” Miri said, stepping up beside him. She was radiant in an old pair of trousers and a work shirt with its collar left open. When he tried to tell her that, she only snorted. “You think I look radiant in everything.”
“That’s because you do.”
“Are you going to let me carry my bag?”
Forcing a smile, Tommy bowed his head to her, “No, ma’am, I don’t think I will,” he said. “I know you’re quite capable of it, but being this close to home leaves me with a longing for the traditions I grew up with.”
Miri squinted at him, and he got the impression that she was trying to decide if she approved. A moment later, she flashed a grin and then kissed him on the cheek. “Well, if you insist.”
The others joined them in short order, Jim and Victor carrying Zoe’s suitcase while the young woman stared in wide-eyed wonder at everything. She had never left Hedrovan until the night Tommy had taken her from the barracks behind the Golden Sunset. And he was willing to bet that she hadn’t seen much of that city. A serving girl didn’t need to leave the hotel.
Even from here, Tommy could see that the nation’s capital was nothing at all like Hedrovan. The train station was at least two miles away from the outermost buildings, connected to the city by a cobblestone road with lamps on either side. Several carriages were parked along the roadside, their drivers offering rides to anyone willing to pay for the convenience. He could smell the horses.
Kalia sauntered up with her hands in her pockets, the strap of her bag slung over one shoulder. She still wore the sheriff’s hat that she’d had ever since Dry Gulch. “Shall we get going?”
Tommy nodded.
They had traveled less than a hundred feet before one of those drivers – a towering man with a thick, brown beard – called out to them. “Fancy a ride into the city, sir? Only ten cents! Cheapest rates in town!”
Miri looked up and greeted the fellow with a winning smile. “I think we’ll walk!” she said, “But thank you!”
Tommy was beginning to wonder if offering to carry her belongings had been a good idea. And that devilish glint in her eye! She knew exactly what he was thinking! Serves him right for being chivalrous.
The air was cool but not frigid, and a good walk was enough to drive the chill away. He could have used a Heat-Source coin in his breast pocket, but there was no need. Best to save it for colder nights. With any luck, spring would be here in another week.
As he drew near the city, he got a better look at the architecture. The streets were lined with tall buildings of red brick with brown shingles on their gabled roofs. Each one had a large, bay window next to the front entrance. He saw a cobbler hard at work through one, a tailor taking measurements through another. The tales he had heard about Ofalla and High Falls as a boy had left him believing that large cities were wondrous places, full of magic. But they were really just several small towns crammed together.
A sigh from Dalen drew him out of his reverie, and he looked around in search of what had upset the other man. It didn’t take long to find it.
Zoe and Victor were walking hand in hand, taking in the sights. Now, when had that happened? Tommy hadn’t noticed them getting closer on the journey to Albraem. “Did you know about this?” he whispered to Miri.
She gave him a sidelong glance. “You didn’t?”
They turned down a larger street lined with large buildings of gray brick, each with a columned front entrance. These were townhomes, Tommy realized. The cost to rent one – or to own one, for that matter – must have been astronomical. They followed a gentle slope northward until Tommy was greeted by a familiar sight.
Sunlight glinted off the dark waters of the Vinrella like a thousand diamonds strewn over a black canvas. He saw nothing but fields and thin patches of woodland on the other side. Unlike Ofalla, New Beloran only occupied the south bank.
Those meadows of yellow grass left him with a longing for his homeland. All he had to do was take a ferry across and ride for ten days…He remembered the way, and he was willing to bet that if he followed that dirt road that ran over the rolling hills, it would eventually join the one that led to his village.
Well…first, he would need to acquire a horse. He already missed the gelding that Marcus had purchased for him in Hedrovan. They had sold their animals in Albraem. It was the only way to make enough money for seven train tickets. Luckily, they had some left over. Enough for a week’s rent, he suspected, but he wouldn’t be buying a horse anytime soon. Besides, if he went home, the people that he had called friends all his life would put a noose around his neck.
All those sombre thoughts reminded him of their dismal financial situation. He would have to find a job if he intended to stay in New Beloran for any length of time. They all would.
“This way,” Miri said. “I know a place where we can stay.”
“Well,” Mrs. Carmichael remarked, “you are a motley group, aren’t you?” She was a woman of average height, slightly plump with tanned skin and gray hair done up in a braided tail. Her frown deepened as her gaze settled onto each of them.
Tommy and Dalen stood on her front step with Zoe, Jim, Victor and Kalia on the sidewalk behind them. Miri was on the porch with her hands clasped behind herself, smiling demurely at her shoes. “I do meet some interesting people.”
“You do indeed, Miss Williams,” Mrs. Carmichael agreed. “If you don’t mind my asking, where is your brother?”
“He is…traveling along the southern coast.”
Tommy wanted nothing more than to put his arms around Miri and hold her. So many nights, she had cried over what she had done to Marcus. It had been necessary, but reminding her of that fact did nothing to stem the flow of tears. No one could kill their own brother without dying a little bit inside. Such an act left a hole in your soul. At times like this, Tommy wondered how Lenny could have been so comfortable condemning him to execution.
Mrs. Carmichael offered a curt nod of respect. “I see,” she muttered, running her gaze over the lot of them one more time. “And will you all be staying in the same apartment then?”
“Yes, we will,” Miri confirmed.
“Well it’s no business of mine,” the old woman huffed. “As long as the rent is paid on time.”
She led them to an apartment on the second floor. The living room was rather posh by Tommy’s standards. White wainscot lined the green walls, and the large, rectangular window allowed plenty of sunlight to fall upon the sofa and the wooden cabinets. It even had a fireplace. But there were only two bedrooms. Some of them would have to sleep on the floor.
Zoe was gaping at everything she saw. No doubt this was a palace compared to what she was used to. If Tommy had not seen what life was like in Aladar, he would have been just as transfixed. Victor took her hand and whispered something in her ear.
Mrs. Carmichael stood in the doorway, frowning as she observed them. “The rent is due by noon on the first day of each week,” she said. “I trust you’ll all be finding some form of gainful employment?”
“About that,” Zoe said. “Do you know if anyone might be hiring a maid? You might say I have some experience in that regard.”
“It just so happens that I’m in need of one,” Mrs. Carmichael replied. “For this property and the one across the street. Come downstairs after lunch, and I’ll introduce you to Mr. Black. If you can make a room presentable after he’s through with it, then you’ve got the job.”
Dalen was halfway through the act of removing his coat when he looked up and blinked. He seemed to have only just realized what the two women were discussing. “And will you be needing a clerk as well?”
Mrs. Carmichael sniffed. “No, but I’m friends with the man who does my books,” she said. “He owns a business just a few blocks away. I’d be happy to introduce you.”
She left them to get settled in, a process that took all of thirty seconds. Jim took a seat at the wo
oden table, and Victor plopped himself down on the couch. Tommy was content to stand by the window.
“So,” Jim mumbled. “What becomes of the rest of us?”
Finding jobs should not be hard for them. Tommy had used the last of the crystals to remove their brands. No one would ever know that they had once been slaves. “Take whatever work you can get,” Miri said. “But be ready to move at a moment’s notice. Because we’re going after Delarac at the first opportunity.”
Trapped in her cell, the Weaver was lying face-up on a bed of nothing but air, hands folded on her chest as she stared at the ceiling. She had been counting the holes in the stone. The crystals that kept her bound to this room were pulsing. She could feel them.
Her uncle Timothy stepped into the doorway, grunting derisively when he saw her. “Defying gravity, are we?” he spat. “I take it then that you’ve healed from your encounter with the rebels.”
The Weaver sat up, her musical laughter causing his face to darken. “Well, that’s a matter of perspective, Uncle,” she purred. “Each time I heal myself, my body changes.”
She floated down, slippered feet touching the floor, black dress clinging to her body as she paced across the room. Timothy recoiled when she reached for him with her scaly hand. “Were you hoping to enlist my help? Are more of your little soldiers in trouble?”
“Without your power,” Timothy growled, “our men cannot repel the savages’ magic. Our forces are in retreat.”
Pursing her lips, the Weaver tilted her head to one side, her eyebrows slowly rising. “Quite the shame,” she murmured. “But I’m afraid I’ve lost interest in helping you with your little war.”
“You’ll do as you’re told.”
“Or what?” she scoffed. “You’ll leave me down here to starve? I wonder, does Auntie Danielle know that you’re keeping her favourite niece in the basement of an abandoned vineyard?”
Backing away from her, Timothy hissed. He reached into his jacket, producing a black crystal that began to glow when he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. “You will do as you’re told!”
