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The Keeper Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy

Page 91

by JA Andrews


  Both lieutenants snapped off a nod to her before resuming their watchfulness.

  Sini grinned at Captain Liam. “Do I require a higher level of guarding than my Keeper brothers?”

  “Yes. Being the unknown entity in our mission.”

  Sini let out a laugh. “That makes me sound mysterious.”

  “You’re getting less mysterious by the moment.”

  “I am?”

  He nodded. “You woke up early, determined to go somewhere”—he glanced at her clothes before returning his attention to the room—“unofficial. Despite that determination, you diverted from your mission immediately. Which leads me to believe it is not something you are eager to do.”

  Sini narrowed her eyes and tried not to shift.

  “Most people do not greet guards, either out of intimidation or arrogance. You have been friendly. Your uncertainty as to whether you could command me shows that you don’t consider yourself in a station above us, regardless of whether you are.

  “Your reluctance to either dress like a Keeper, or be named one, means that you’re bound to do things I would not expect of the other Keepers. So yes, you require a higher level of guarding.”

  Sini crossed her own arms and studied the man. “Are you going to follow me?”

  “No, Keeper. My post is here.”

  That was good, but the formality of it rubbed her the wrong way. Stepping around him, she snapped a small pink flower out of the vase and tucked it behind the thin brass arc pinned to the shoulder of his uniform. The pin was polished but dinged. The captain most have spent his career doing more dangerous things than watching chairs.

  He spared her a tight-faced look that bordered on fatherly disapproval before turning back to the room.

  “I tell you what. As long as you insist on calling me Keeper, I’ll insist on calling you Daisy.”

  “That is not a daisy,” Captain Liam pointed out.

  “True. But Pretty Pink Blossom I Don’t Know the Name Of would make for an unwieldy name.” She headed across the room toward the hallway. “I hope the chairs don’t give you too much trouble, Daisy.”

  “I believe we’ll be able to handle them, Keeper.”

  Sini followed the only path she knew out of the palace, through the small courtyard she and Will had entered through yesterday. The sky was quickly brightening. She paused at the door. A line of city guard stood at attention receiving orders from none other than Roan. Hoping there were enough other people busy in the courtyard that he wouldn’t notice her, she headed toward the gate on the far side.

  Before she had reached it, he called out, “Keeper Sini.”

  She thought about ignoring him, but the two guards at the gate focused on her as well. Bracing herself, she turned around to face him.

  Roan strode toward her, taking in her clothes with a glance. “I didn’t expect you to be heading to the Lees this early.”

  Sini stifled an annoyed huff and thought about denying her destination. But there didn’t seem to be a point. “It’s as good a time as any.”

  “You and I are needed in the queen’s council.”

  “Not for hours.”

  Roan studied her for a long moment. “Can I convince you that this is a bad idea?”

  “To go to the place where I lived for twelve years?”

  “A young woman going into the slums alone is asking for trouble.”

  “I know the Lees and their dangers better than you, Lord Consort.”

  His lips tightened. “Then lead on.”

  Sini crossed her arms. “You’re not coming with me.”

  “It’s either me or three men of my choosing.”

  “Three!” Sini glanced at the city guard still lingering in the courtyard. “You’re worth three of them?”

  “No. But it is my personal responsibility to ensure your safety. If I’m not there myself, I will make sure you are over-protected. I’m not interested in having to report to her majesty that a Keeper was killed in the Lees.”

  Sini glared at him in irritation. “I was under the impression that Keepers were well respected here. You’re the second soldier to disregard my wishes this morning. And it’s not even fully light out.”

  Roan gave her a satisfied smile. “Captain Liam was my personal choice to guard your room.”

  “I’d be safer by myself than walking with a uniformed guard.”

  “It’s not a uniform.”

  “It’s the most uniform-like non-uniform I’ve ever seen and it’s going to attract unwanted attention.”

  He gave her a flat look. “I’m still coming with you.”

  Sini glared at him. “Fine.” She dropped into an exaggerated curtsey. “Let’s go, Lord Consort.”

  She stalked through the gates, shooting glares at the guards who saluted Roan as he passed.

  Roan stayed several paces behind her on the avenue leading from the palace to the city wall, acting more like a real guard than she’d expected. She did her best to ignore him, which was easy amid the merchant houses with brightly painted signs lined the street. The only early morning shoppers were well-dressed servants carrying neatly-wrapped bundles, all striding down the avenue with a self-absorbed air and paying neither Sini or Roan any heed. By the time they reached the thick stone city wall at the northwestern gate, the sun had risen fully. The guards there saluted Roan and let them pass through without comment.

  The broad avenue continued through more fine houses and bright shops, straight toward the vineyard hills to the north. The morning was chilly, but the early sun snuck rays in between the tall buildings and occasionally sunfire pressed against Sini’s cheek with a comforting warmth. She toyed with the ring on her finger, happy to feel the weight of it.

  It only took one turn down the nearest shadowed alley for the world to change. The only dignity found in these buildings was in dim echoes. Broken signs hung from rusted poles. Dark interiors squinted out through windows nailed off with mismatched beams of wood.

  The smells of the Lees hit them with almost physical force and Roan made a disgusted sound. The stench of unwashed bodies and puddles of sewage sent her heart racing. She pushed at the fear that had been dogging her since her nightmare. She was not a child. She was not running from anyone. She wasn’t helpless.

  The fear didn’t subside, but she strode down the alley as though it had. The cobblestones beneath her feet were almost invisible under the layer of dirt and filth. The few people out watched Roan’s grey uniform suspiciously. It didn’t help that he walked stiffly, one hand on his sword, the other balled into a fist at his side.

  Nothing looked familiar, but Sini led the way down a winding alley, heading in the direction of the central market. The alleys were so narrow that they were all deeply shadowed, and she found herself wishing she could feel the sunfire on her skin.

  Roan walked behind her with his jaw clenched. “How much further?”

  “I have no idea. I never got this close to the city wall when I lived here.”

  The street ahead of them dead-ended at a run-down shop. Sini ducked into the alley on her left.

  “Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Roan asked.

  “Mostly.” The square should be somewhere ahead of them. They just needed to find a street big enough to lead them there.

  The next street was more promising. It was just too wide to be called an alley, and a block ahead it joined with the widest street she’d seen yet. The bit of building across it stood three stories high. A horseshoe was set into the stone above each window on the top floor. Sini blew out a little sigh of relief.

  “That’s the ironworks,” she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Now I actually do know where we are.”

  Roan spared her an annoyed look before his eyes snapped wide at something ahead of her.

  Sini spun to find a tall man in the dusty remains of a formal coat stepping into her path.

  “Look at this,” he said, motioning to Sini with a clay bottle that reeked of dredgewine. “What s
ort of treasure have we found that needs a royal guard for an escort?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sini took a step back just as three men stepped into the alley. Roan pulled her toward the side of the alley so he could face all four. The first man crowded closer, examining Sini with a possessive, satisfied smile sliding through his wiry, unkempt beard. The hilt of a knife stuck out from his belt. He chewed a smoldering stick of gumroot. The scent of dredgeweed, a caustic spirits distilled in the Lees, burned her throat, jarring her back to all the nights her parents had reeked of it, bringing back all the fear that smell had caused.

  Roan slid his sword out of its sheath with an unhurried hiss. “This treasure isn’t worth the pain it would cost you.”

  The man with the wine raised an eyebrow. “I’m Nyle, and this is my street. No one passes through my street without paying the toll.”

  “I hope you’re really worth three guards,” Sini said to Roan.

  “I’m at least better than four drunken men spineless enough to attack a woman.” He held his sword low in front of him, looking more at ease than Sini had seen him yet.

  In the face of a real, tangible danger, the last of the fear from her nightmare faded and was replaced by a low anger. “The Lees has too many spineless, drunken men.” She took a step toward Nyle.

  “Sini.” Roan’s voice was a cross between a warning and a command. “Don’t.”

  “This man is the problem with the Lees, Roan.” She stepped forward again and Nyle grinned at her. “There are too many people trying to intimidate and rob everyone else for…” She glanced around at the crumbling buildings. “Dungheaps like this.”

  Nyle’s smile soured. “It’s my dungheap you’re in, woman. I was going to let you pass with just a fine. But I think the toll has just gone up.” He mashed the end of the gumroot between his teeth and bits of brownish spittle foamed at the edges of his lips.

  A spark of hatred for the disgusting root and the foul-smelling wine and the brazen, brutish attitude flared in her. This man was every problem from her childhood. Every hour spent in fear. She stepped forward until she was right in front of the man. He swayed slightly on his feet and his eyes weren’t quite focused. She lifted her chin to look him in the eye, all the complicated emotions the Lees had given to her funneled into one, furious look.

  “Sini.” This time Roan’s voice held only the snap of command.

  She ignored him. “I am tired of seeing cowards like you run places like this into the ground. You lumber around like animals destroying anything you touch.” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger and dredgewine sloshed out of the bottle onto his arm.

  He snarled at her and grabbed for the front of her shirt, but his motion was slow, and she swatted his hand away.

  She leaned right up into his face. “It’s a dangerous thing to smoke gumroot near dredgewine. Wine is flammable.”

  Sini slammed her elbow up into the bottom of Nyle’s bottle and the wine sprayed up into his face. Rust-red liquid streamed down his beard. He roared with fury and lunged for her, just as the other men closed in on Roan. A clang rang out of Roan’s sword against one of their knives.

  Nyle shoved her back against the wall. Lights exploded in her vision as her head slammed into the stone. His breath was warm and rancid on her face. Dimly, she heard muffled cries from near Roan. She shook her head to clear it and grabbed a fistful of Nyle’s damp beard, shoving his face back.

  She poured vitalle into her ring. The garnet flared to life and a copper light shot out from her finger.

  The wine ignited. Flames burst out from Nyle’s shirt and beard.

  Tongues of fire, tinted green by the alcohol, licked up the side of his face, He screamed and let go of her. She tumbled down the wall, crashing to her knees on the cobblestones. The stench of burning hair cut into her throat. Nyle’s bottle smashed to the ground and he slapped at his face to put out the flames.

  Nyle ran through a doorway, screaming for water. Sini’s head spun. She touched the back of her head and winced at the huge lump, ,although her hand came away without blood. She braced herself against the alley wall, willing the world to stop spinning.

  The other three men lay groaning on the ground around Roan. One had a wide gash on his forehead, one cradled his arm, and one lay unmoving.

  Roan turned to her with a furious face. “Are you all right?” He pulled her to her feet and looked her over, and without waiting for an answer pointed his sword down the alley toward the iron works. “Out of this alley. Now.”

  She nodded and stumbled toward the street ahead.

  Behind them curious faces leaned out of windows, but no one followed. She turned into the wide street running along the huge building that had once housed enough ironworkers to supply the city. The street ran due east and morning sunlight poured down into it. Merchants filled the street, selling wares along its sides. Early-morning shoppers lingered at their blankets and carts.

  Sini turned her face toward the sunlight, letting it soak into her skin, funneling the sunfire toward the back of her head.

  “What were you thinking?” Roan hissed under his breath. “You can’t attack a drunken man twice your size.”

  “He attacked us,” she snapped. “And I am not a defenseless child.” Warm energy filled the back of her skull, and the pain lessened. Roan steered her into the shadows of a quiet nook between two tall carts.

  He put his hand on her shoulder sand peered into her face. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “I’m fine.” She pointed to a gash on his sleeve. “You?”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “One of them almost got in a lucky swing.”

  “I apologize for mocking you about being better than three men.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “They were hardly men.”

  “I’m just glad Nyle didn’t bring four.”

  “Very funny. How’s your head?”

  “Healing.” At his doubtful expression she set her hand against the cut on his arm. Slippery blood coated her palm. Drawing in some vitalle from the sun shining on the street next to them, she pressed it into his wound, helping his body knit the cut, healing muscle and skin. He stiffened under her hand. When she was done, he straightened his arm with a look of disbelief.

  “Still think the Keepers aren’t useful?”

  “Did your head heal that quickly?”

  Sini touched the back of her head gingerly. “Swelling takes longer to sort out than a cut, but it’s getting better.”

  He rubbed his arm. “That’s a useful skill.”

  A woman across the street stopped and stared at Roan’s clothes.

  “We should keep moving.” Sini stepped back out into the street and he followed.

  “You did well against your ruffian,” Roan said.

  “I did survive in this place for years without you.”

  He glanced at her with a smile more genuine than she’d seen from him before. “By setting beards on fire?”

  Sini grinned. “No, that’s a new skill.”

  They reached the central square and Sini paused at the nearest merchant’s cart. There was more commotion here. Vendors lined the edges of the square. Shoppers, looking haggard and worn, examined their wares. A good number of children scampered through, dirty and watchful. A boy ran toward them, then skidded to a stop when he caught sight of Roan. He darted to the side and disappeared around a building.

  Sini turned to look at Roan’s pressed grey uniform. “You should have worn something to cover that up.”

  “The only cloak I own is grey regulation.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Are you in need of a cloak, good sir?” an elderly voice spoke from behind Sini.

  A short, wiry old man beamed at them. His long beard was disheveled and his hair wild. His clothes were mismatched down to two different shoes. The cart next to him had a wide bed full of colorful bundles that seemed to hold no value. Spindly sticks held a roof over it, hung with ratty blankets and
unnamable bits of fabric.

  The merchant pulled a long, frayed cloak off the back of his cart. The general impression of the garment was green, but it held splotches of every color from black to yellow to orange. “Two coppers.”

  Roan eyed it with a grimace. “No thank y—”

  “Yes,” Sini broke in. “A cloak is exactly what he needs.” She turned to Roan. “Buy the cloak from the man.”

  “No. We’re wasting time.”

  No one was going to talk to her with a royal guard hovering at her shoulder. “You can’t go with me dressed like that.”

  “I’m not leaving your side.”

  “Fine.” She pulled out the coins and handed them to the man.

  Roan held the blotchy fabric at arm’s length.

  “We’re not going another step until you put it on,” she said.

  He sniffed it before grimacing and swinging it around his shoulders. It covered a good portion of his clean greys and Sini nodded approvingly. “You look dashing.”

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  “May you find whatever you seek,” the old merchant said pleasantly.

  “And may we find it quickly,” Roan added.

  With her mottled, dirty escort, Sini headed across the square. No one paid them any mind now, and she headed for the thin avenue that snaked out of the opposite corner of the square. From there it was just a few twisting blocks to the small bakery.

  The buildings looked shabbier and smaller than she remembered, but the smells were still the same. Musty and dusty, with an underlying rotten scent.

  Her shoulders grew tighter as more and more of the buildings and alleys became familiar. At the front corner of the abandoned hotel, the gap in the stones she’d used to shimmy through had grown wide enough for a man. The smaller children must have found a different hideout.

  They turned down one last street before the crumbling old bank came into view. The gargoyle on the roof leered down past his broken nose, and she relaxed slightly. She’d been terrified of that stone face for years until one day, covered in tears of rain, he’d struck her as more sad than frightened. She’d named him Granite, because it sounded stone-like, and that afternoon she’d discovered the way up to him. It was tricky in dry weather, almost impossible in the rain. But she’d climbed up regularly and sat by him, telling him her woes. From that height she could see slivers of places beyond the edge of the Lees: the bright green hilltops of the vineyards, the point of one roof of the palace, a small wedge of the huge city wall that kept her out of anywhere respectable.

 

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