Riot of Storm and Smoke Page 16

  “It would be a refreshing change of pace, to be sure.”

  “The truth…” I bite my lip, uncertain, and look away.

  He leans closer, eager. “You can unburden yourself to me, Lady Breena. I swear it.”

  I release a deep sigh, as if nervous, and raise my eyes to his. “That…that is good to hear,” I say softly. “The truth, Sir Liam is that…” I slide nimbly from the table. “…I’m going to bed.”

  I begin to shove my way through the rest of the patrons to get to my room for the night, away from his prying questions, when he stops me.

  “Lady Breena,” he says quietly.

  I turn.

  “It’s Clavish.” One side of his mouth quirks up. “The language. We’re just south of the border. We’ll be in Clavins on the morrow.”

  Clavins

  “It’s been a week, Liam.” Over a month since I lost them. Restlessly, I pace the small room I’m confined within. Two beds and barely enough room to stand between them. My foot clips the edge of one of Liam’s boots, and I land it a solid wallop in the midst of my tirade.

  Liam shoots me a wounded look from his bed. “The boot did naught to you.”

  I point a threatening finger at him, and he withdraws, arms raised in surrender.

  “We’ve found no sign of them!” I punctuate each word with an emphatic stab of my finger toward him. “I’m beginning to think…” I deflate and sink onto the bed, burying my face in my hands. “What if I was wrong?” I whisper to the darkness.

  Strong fingers tug at my wrists and light seeps back in. Warily, I look up at Liam and he gives me a sympathetic look. “We don’t know yet that you were.”

  “Yet,” I bite out.

  The bed springs squeak and settle as Liam sits next to me. “Lady Breena—Bree,” he corrects hastily before I can. “Based on what you’ve told me, your reasoning was sound. I’m inclined to agree that they’ve brought your friends to Clavins.”

  “In my head…” I hesitate because it seems so foolish to say aloud. “Clavins seemed much smaller.”

  So foolish. As though I’d have only one village to search through when we arrived. Clavins was always a forgotten off-shoot of Egria. A finger in the long arm of the empire.

  “It’s so much larger. There are so many more people. It’s like—” I search for an apt comparison. “Like trying to find a specific blade of grass in a damn meadow.”

  “Yes, well…searching with several sets of eyes will make the job a trifle less arduous.”

  The walls feel more and more like a cell. And time is a warden I surrender to daily. For weeks it seems, I’ve stayed in a variation of this room. Coming in each day, the door shuts with a disparaging click. Judging me for giving up so easily.

  “Where’s my cloak?”

  Liam looks at me, incredulous. “You’re not going out again? The sun’s going down. It’ll be dark soon.”

  I sneer. “And all of the monsters and creepy-crawlies will come out to play? I’ll be fine. Hasn’t that been what all of our messing about has been for?”

  “Your training,” he emphasizes, “has been for you to defend yourself should trouble find you. Not for you to go courting it.”

  “It’s not as though I’ve been courting anyone else,” I mutter, fingers fumbling as I fasten my cloak’s ties.

  He gives me an easy smile. “Missing your lad?”

  I freeze, fingers suddenly stiff, Caden at the forefront of my mind. “Have you…had any news of His Highness?”

  An eyebrow raise shows me what he thinks of the leap in subject from courtship to Caden, but I roll my eyes. Get on with it then, Liam.

  His mirth dissipates. “I haven’t,” he says.

  “Remind me of the last report?”

  Stupid.

  No, not stupid, I correct that vicious little voice inside of me. The voice that sounds rather like Kat. It’ll do me good to hear it again, to be reminded of what the facts are.

  He sighs. “Fires in the north. Blue, vicious ones. Got to be Ruin’s Reaping, but no sign as to the source and nothing but ash left behind. It took hold of and consumed a village near the epicenter. His Highness’s forces were spotted in the area a couple of days before the flames.”

  “And after?”

  “No news after. Just that the fires were extinguished when a rainstorm blew in.”

  I nod and turn my back to Liam. Meeting my own eyes in the small looking glass that hangs in the room, I smooth back my hair with a shaking hand and fist it to stop the trembling.

  “It’s been over a month with no hint of him,” Liam says gently. “Don’t you think it’s time—”

  “I won’t have this conversation again,” I say. “I’m going out.”

  I can’t do anything about Caden—I close my eyes and swallow—but Aleta, Tregle, and Meddie… They may still be within my power to save.

  Lady Kat dogs my steps as I pace the streets of the city. The lower I get, it seems, the more she shows up to kick me whilst I’m down.

  The city I acquaint myself with more intimately each day isn’t so different from the brief glimpse I’d caught of the Egrian capital. They each have distinctive architecture styles and the weather is as disparate as can be, but the people that roam the street, the shops opening and closing, the different merchant carts—those all have the clatter of familiarity to them.

  Still, I don’t know what I thought I’d achieve by walking about alone. I don’t speak a word of Clavish. To my ears, every conversation is discordant and unintelligible. If there are any whispers of my friends, I’d be none the wiser.

  I stroll for a while longer, wandering aimlessly up one street and down the other in search of anything that will lead me to Aleta and the others, but it’s hopeless. I should head back to the inn. I’m so preoccupied with my melancholy that I nearly miss the Egrian tongue amongst the foreign chatter.

  “We’re well-shot to be rid of her, you know.”

  I freeze in my tracks. My eyes dart about the crowd, past two figures who appear to be squabbling over the price of eggs, past a little boy dipping his hand into a stranger’s pocket, to settle on a woman leaning against a doorway. She huffs on a pipe and passes it to her companion. Her mean little face is content.

  My heart leaps. I recognize those conniving features.

  Fi. One of the bandits who kidnapped us is here, in the city.

  Hardly conscious of what I’m doing, I move closer. If Fi is here, then that means…that means I have a lead. A Makers-blessed lead after weeks of nothing.

  “Rid of her? Which one?” her companion asks, and I stop short.

  His back is to me, but one tends to recognize the voice of a person who’s tried to kill them. Tofer. My blood boils.

  Fi snorts. “All of them. And their fellow. But you know well that I’m talking about herself, with the green bauble-y eyes.”

  Aleta, I think and edge closer, worry staggering my breath. Rid of her, Fiona said. Rid of her like they thought they were rid of me?

  “Mmm.” Tofer brings the pipe toward his lips. “She’s someone else’s problem now, true enough.”

  She’s alive, then. I heave a sigh of relief. Sounds like they all are, though I still don’t know where. As Fi and Tofer finish off their smoking tobacco and stow the pipe to melt into the crowd, I experience only a moment’s hesitation before following them. If I can find out where they’re staying or overhear something useful, I can fetch Liam or one of the other soldiers to help.

  My mouth firms. Nothing for it. I plunge after them.

  We wind up a dank corridor that smells of damp and mold. The corner where street meets wall is flooded with fetid water, and Fi and Tofer push inside a wooden door that’s dark with rot. Similar doors dot the structure’s outer wall, and it looks to be a boarding house of some sort. Judging by the distance between the doors, the rooms aren’t at all large.

  Where are the rest of their people? The bandits can’t all fit inside there. Unless... Unless Fi and Tofer have
separated from the others.

  My heart speeds up. If they have, it will be easier to get one of them alone. Tofer, I think. It will have to be Tofer. His power was in his status, whereas I cannot hope to overpower Fi’s Shaker abilities on my own. And maybe with the advantage that Tofer thinks that I’m dead—

  Anger coils my insides and cool fingers reach for the sheath at my waist. I settle into the dark beneath an outdoor staircase and wait.

  Yes. I’ll wait for Tofer.

  It’s hours that I sit there, shifting restlessly, stretching to prevent my extremities from stiffening in the cold. The sun descends, prompting the fleeting thought that Liam and his troop will be out looking for me soon. But really, I haven’t been gone for any great stretch of time. It’s not altogether long before Fi slips out—by herself.

  I fold myself farther back into the shadows, anticipation quickening within me. I couldn’t ask for a better opening. She strolls out of the alleyway without a backward glance.

  Slipping out of my hiding place cautiously, I try the doorknob. Unlocked. I suck in a short breath. Knife in hand, I creep inside the dark room. My breath is shallow as I click the latch shut behind me.

  Tofer, on the bed, stirs awake with a grunt. “Fi?” he asks, squinting into the darkness.

  My rage simmered while I bided my time, but at the sound of Tofer’s voice, it froths over. I fly at him before he has time to gather his wits. My eyes adjusted to the darkness during the wait, but he’s only just awakened.

  Still, Tofer didn’t get to be the head of a formidable group of bandits by being slow. He rolls off the bed, instinct carrying him. He catapults to his feet. “Fi, what the hell—”

  He breaks off, choking on his words, as I drive a fist into his gut.

  I shove at his shoulders. Taken aback, he stumbles, falls, and I land on him, sitting on his chest, pinning his arms. “I’m not Fi.”

  “Then who—”

  He breaks off again. Maybe it’s the knife I have at his throat. Maybe his eyes have adjusted. Maybe the moonlight has fallen across my face. I don’t know. But I could swear that he pales.

  “You,” he says.

  “Me,” I growl.

  “I killed you,” he says.

  “It didn’t take.” I press the knife to his throat harder. He swallows, and it draws a bead of blood. He hisses and I tut. “Careful, there.”

  He glares at me, but stills. “So you got away. Alive.”

  “I did.”

  “And you’ve bothered to track us down why, exactly?”

  I swear to the Makers, I almost laugh. “I left something with you.”

  His brow furrows. “You had no notable possessions for us to sell.”

  “My friends, you dolt.”

  “Ah.” His expression clears. “Perhaps if you let me up, we could negotiate in a more civilized manner.”

  “The last time I saw you, you did your best to kill me. And I let you. I won’t make that mistake again. Where have you taken them?”

  “I was rid of them the moment I could be,” he says. “Your friend has been a bee buzzing in my people’s ears and stinging my backside.”

  Despite myself, I’m curious as to what he means. I ease up on the knife’s pressure by a hair. “Explain,” I say shortly.

  “She—it was Lettie, wasn’t it?” At my jerky nod, he continues. “She started asking pointed questions. Why the camp was run certain ways. What gave me the right to be in charge. Split the camp into factions, see? Thought they’d find more money if they followed others. I ordered her gagged, but it was too late to undo her damage entirely. Should have been a politician, that one.”

  Pride wells within me, and I swallow the insane impulse to laugh. He has no idea how right he is. The answer—that Aleta and the others are assuredly still alive, and still fighting however they can—buoys me. Eagerly now, I press him for more. “So you came to Clavins and got rid of them. Where? How?”

  “Place we’ve used before. They don’t ask too many questions. Take boys and girls alike, pay fairly.”

  Immediately, I’m imagining all sorts of horrors. “What do they take the boys and girls for?”

  If I’m not mistaken, the look Tofer gives me is offended. “Oy, I’m not a monster,” he says. “Indentured servitude, that’s all. Just a year, maybe two, and they’ll be let go.”

  “Not a monster? Wrong thing to say to someone you tried to kill.”

  This time, I’m sure he’s affronted. “I believe you’re taking that too personally.”

  “How personally are you taking the fact that I’ve attacked you?”

  “Fair point.” He twists, and my hand slips on the knife. “Don’t—!” The knife trembles in my grasp. I swallow hard. “I don’t want to have to hurt you,” I say.

  “Do you know, I believe you’re telling me the truth?” He lengthens his legs as far as he can, stretching. “Let me give you something to consider. You very publicly defied me in front of a group I struggled to maintain control over. Perhaps I didn’t want to have to hurt you either. Perhaps I did so only to maintain my position. Perhaps your soul has weighed heavy with me. Perhaps I am very glad to find you alive and well here.”

  “Perhaps you should get to the crux of the matter.”

  “You let me up. I tell you exactly where to find your friends. We part, forevermore, no longer a concern for each other.”

  Tempting. Very tempting. I fight to keep my emotions from spilling onto my features. Tofer’s eyes have clearly adjusted now and are avid on my face. Wily as he is, I doubt he’s failed to notice the shaking knife at his throat.

  In one fluid motion, I throw myself off of Tofer and stand near the door. I have enough faith in the defensive maneuvers Liam and the rest taught me that I believe I can get out the door and run like hell. I’m quick enough for that much at least.

  When Tofer makes a move as if to approach me, I hold the knife out as a shield. “That’s quite near enough. The information you promised, if you please.”

  Tofer holds his hands up, showing himself unarmed, as though I have a crossbow aimed at his chest or Meddie’s proclivities for knife-throwing. There’s a pang in my chest that’s quickly assuaged. I’m so close.

  “You’ll find the tenement where they’re housed at the corner of Bleeker Strait. There’s a silver slash on one building’s door. It’s directly across from there.”

  “Guards?”

  “One,” he says. He hesitates, then straightens, nodding. “Right, I’ll not have it said I wasn’t entirely truthful. The guards aren’t necessary. Some of those bound for servitude are chained up inside and slipped a bit of something in their food and drink that keeps them awake, but not quite alert.”

  The fist in my insides clenches, its movement mimicked by the one around my knife. “Is that all?”

  “No. They’re kept behind locked doors, and dogs patrol the halls.”

  “I can handle dogs.”

  “Not alone, you can’t. These things are beasts. Massive ones whose heads come up past my navel.”

  And Tofer is a great deal taller than I. Right then, that’s still no trouble. “I’ll alert the city guard, then.”

  “What good will that do you? It’s a legal trade here.”

  At least Egria has that much going for it. Bound Elementals the king may have, but at least he doesn’t trade in people. “I have help,” I say. “I won’t go alone. Is there anything else?”

  “One thing,” he says softly. Wonderingly. “I have to know…how did you survive?”

  I turn to leave. The knife is still in one hand, and my other hand hovers on the latch. No footsteps. Tofer makes no move to stop me. What’s the harm in trying really?

  “You thought I was cheap, the trouble not worth the bounty you’d get for me. Part of the reason you tried to kill me, yeah?”

  My head angles, hair falling over my eyes. Through the strands, in my peripherals, the shift is enough to see him nod his agreement. I bite my lip and feel for some water i
n the room—anything—and notice a mop leaning casually against the wall beside a bucket. “Watch,” I say, pointing toward it.

  He looks from me to the bucket quizzically, then shrugs as if to say, Well, why not?

  I keep my face turned toward the wood of the door, the iron bolts that keep the slats in place. I’m already sweating with the effort of concentrating on the filthy water inside the bucket. Come on, I think fiercely. Makers be blessed, you wanted me to have these cursed powers, then help me. This is mine. This is me.

  The water gives a half-hearted flip and splashes feebly over the side. I sag against the door, panting and turn.

  Tofer’s gone white again, staring unabashed and open-mouthed at the small, but undeniable puddle across the room. His eyes dart back to me, and I shrug, exhausted, but unable to quell the small smile of victory that the moment paints across my face.

  “I’m worth far more than you could guess.”

  Tofer is as good as his word and does not try to stop me from leaving. Nor, as far as I can tell, does he track me back to Liam and the inn we’ve positioned ourselves in. Even if he had, I likely lost him in the trek anyway. It takes me longer than I’m proud of to retrace the steps I took through the city to get back.

  It’s long enough for me to ponder my moment of Throwing back with Tofer. I wonder at it—has it come back at last? But it was so much harder than it should have been to simply make the water splash. Only time will tell, I suppose.

  Liam looks up as I enter the room. “You’ve been gone a while.”

  I unloop a scarf from about my neck. “I notice you haven’t troubled yourself.”

  “I object to that assumption. I’ll have you know I sent a couple of scouts out for you. Didn’t think it should take you that long to clear your head.” He eyes me appraisingly, and I know what he must see: cheeks flushed with victory. Eyes bright with excitement. A body fair to vibrating with anticipation. “Had a good day, have you?”

  “Liam,” I say, letting my grin spread. “I found them.”

  It’s two days longer before we amass a plan. “We have some contacts in the city,” Liam says. “Old ties—small rebellions that were trounced, but whose remaining players went into hiding. They kept in touch with the Underground. And there’s a political faction that objects to the indentured servitude market.”