Hopefully Kasmira and her crew will be able to figure out who Valoria’s most sinister enemies are as they make their usual rounds at the city’s taverns and other meeting places, keeping their ears open just as their queen ordered them to—whenever they aren’t training with the volunteers, that is.
Ten of the mage students—all but one of them, if memory serves—greet us in the library that only holds a few books. While they keep a respectful distance from Valoria, they welcome us enthusiastically, all talking at once.
“Noranna’s really excited to show you what she came up with,” Karston tells me, raising his voice over the others. A slight frown crossing his face, he adds, “I thought she might show me first, but she wouldn’t let anyone see until Her Majesty arrived.”
“Knowing Noranna,” Azelie adds from her seat near the window, where she’s making a flower do cartwheels along her forearm, “it’ll be good. She designs the neatest things—like a greenhouse where I can work with all sorts of plants, all year round.”
Seeing anyone do a trick like that with a flower would’ve startled me once, if not shocked me. But now I only feel the barest shiver of wonder as the milky-white orchid on Azelie’s arm takes a bow.
“You’re only excited about that greenhouse because we haven’t started building it yet,” Karston says to Azelie, shaking his head. “Wait till you’ve spent a few days swinging a hammer, and you’ll start dreading the work as much as the rest of us.”
Listening to their easy banter makes me think of the way Jax, Simeon, Evander, and I used to joke when we weren’t training.
“Have you seen Jax lately?” I ask Karston in a low voice.
Jax missed our last two practice sessions with the volunteer army, and I haven’t had a chance to really talk to him since the day of the protest on the palace lawn. Before that, it seemed like things between us were on the mend. I hope they still are.
“He’s probably at the Rotten Rose.” Karston shrugs, seemingly unaware of how troublesome that news is. “That’s where he said he planned to head after his patrol shift yesterday. Usually, when he goes there, he doesn’t come back for a while.”
A flicker of alarm crosses Valoria’s face as she overhears, and I nod grimly. I’ve never been inside the Rotten Rose, a pub deep in the Ashes, but I’ve heard the name in passing. It’s the only place in the city where Kasmira and her crew won’t go for a drink.
“So,” Karston says, drawing my attention again with a smile and a look. “Any chance the students here can enlist in the army you’re training?”
It’s not a bad idea. Since people are afraid of the change that the students at the school represent, they might eventually take out that fear on one of them. They’ll stand a better chance if they know how to fight.
As if sensing my thoughts, Azelie leans forward and, in her usual bubbly voice, says, “Don’t look so worried. We’re working on creating our own defenses for this place, and for the palace as well. You’ll see soon enough, I think.” Grinning at me, she adds, “But it’ll be worth coming to training just to see you kick some ass.”
Shaking my head, I mutter, “Thanks, Zee.”
She makes her flower walk from her arm to mine, using its drooping leaves like a pair of legs. It climbs up to my shoulder and kisses my cheek with its petals to applause from everyone watching us.
Someone nearby chuckles softly, a good-natured sort of laugh. Glancing toward the sound, I meet Valoria’s eyes for the briefest moment. It’s good to hear her laugh again.
As I excuse myself from Karston to make my way to her side, Simeon emerges from another room, his arm around the shoulders of the curly-haired girl who showed Azelie around on her first day here. Noranna.
She keeps her doe-brown eyes trained on Valoria as she moves away from Simeon to give the queen a bow, then clears her throat. Everyone goes quiet.
“Before you gave me my super-arm,” Noranna begins in a soft and steady voice, gesturing to the metallic lower half of her right arm, “I got by just fine. I wasn’t always happy, but I did things my way, and most days, that was okay.” She swallows. “But when you gave me this”—she taps her fingers against the metal with a hint of pride— “I felt complete. Not at first, but after a while, I realized I could do things better than before.” Gazing around at the other students, her lips twitch into a slight smile as she says, “Maybe even better than some of my friends here.”
I sneak a glance at Valoria, whose eyes glisten with admiration as she puts both hands on the wolf’s head that tops her cane.
“So anyway,” Noranna continues, excitement making her words come out in a rush, “when you asked us for help building a defense for Karthia, I thought: What if we had soldiers that were as strong as my super-arm? No amount of skill would stand a chance against them. I was already building mechanical people to serve as butlers, so I just had to tweak the design a bit, and now I’m proud to present . . .”
Her voice trails away as she runs back into the small side room she and Simeon came from earlier.
“Your very own indestructible soldiers!” she shouts from out of sight.
There’s a creaking, like rusty door hinges but louder, and clanging, like the cooks throwing pots around in the palace kitchens, as three figures march stiffly into the library. Sunlight gleams off their iron bodies and the spears clutched in their hands as they shuffle deeper into the room, cutting a path through the students.
I step back, almost bumping into Karston as the soldiers draw near. He steadies me with a hand on my elbow, though his awed gaze stays fixed on the three metal figures marching.
Noranna reappears in time to hear Valoria declare, “They’re fantastic! But how do you get them to move? I must know.” In a lower voice, she adds more to herself than anyone else, “Amazing. Dreaming up things and seeing them become reality. This is the future I want for Karthia.”
“So, there are two cords in the back that you pull,” Noranna says, missing Valoria’s softly muttered words in the excitement of her big moment. “One to make them walk, and one that makes them use the spears. Their hands have every joint a real one does, since I followed the design you used for my arm, but then I added—”
The rest of her words are drowned out as the soldier in front walks into a bookcase, causing not only the books but the large wooden shelf to come crashing down on top of it. There’s a screeching of metal that makes everyone cringe as the other two soldiers collide with each other and the mess. Down they go, their spears flying from their hands.
I duck, pulling Azelie down with me and muttering a curse under my breath.
Everyone else shouts and scatters, too. Except Noranna.
“I . . .” She stammers, standing frozen amidst the wreckage. “I guess they need some work still.” Her eyes shimmer as she crouches beside the mess and lifts a book, its cover now torn off, from the rubble.
The metal soldiers stare up at her with empty, dark eye holes, the only step she took toward giving them a proper face.
I shiver, wishing Meredy hadn’t had to visit Elibeth today, so she could see this with me.
Karston is by Noranna’s side in an instant, and I hurry to help him lift the bookcase off the soldiers while Azelie collects the spears. Valoria gathers up books, while Simeon shepherds the other students into the courtyard to give Noranna some space.
“This was such a stupid idea,” she groans as she tries to pull one of the soldiers upright. “So stupid. Majesty, I’m sorry for wasting your time this morning. These are going straight in a rubbish heap—”
“Don’t say that, Nora,” Karston cuts in sharply. “You’ve come closer than any of us to thinking up something useful.” His violet eyes are full of concern for Noranna, and perhaps something more, too. He looks at her the way Valoria sometimes looks at Jax.
“It’s all right, Karston,” she says, clearly not all right herself as she pats
a metal soldier’s arm and swallows hard. “I failed. It happens.”
“You didn’t fail.” Valoria takes Noranna’s hands, drawing her away from the mess while Karston and I continue putting things back. “You’re experimenting, just like I do. Did, rather, when I still had the time. My point is, do you think I’d have invented anything useful if I tossed every past attempt in the rubbish? You’re not giving up.” Perhaps sensing a protest brewing in the younger inventor’s gaze, she adds firmly, “That’s an order.”
As I help drag the three metal soldiers back to the workshop they came from, staring at their blank, eerie faces, I’m more determined than ever to make our volunteer army into the fighters they never knew they could be.
Because no matter how brilliant an inventor Noranna is, she’ll never be able to design what her metal soldiers would need in order to fight a human opponent: brains.
Strong as they are, unless these things can think for themselves—know where to go, anticipate their enemy’s next move, understand when to strike and when to defend—they’ll be completely and utterly useless in any battle to come.
* * *
* * *
At the next morning’s training session, I push everyone harder than ever, even the students from the mage school who decided to join us.
Jax and I are leading hand-to-hand practice today while Danial helps a small group with their wooden swords. At least, that’s the idea. There hasn’t been any sign of Jax yet, Valoria needs to prepare for her next talk with the rebel leader, and Meredy said something about helping Elibeth pick out a new dress for a very important first date. So for now, I have the whole group to myself to command.
“Seen Maxon this morning?” a woman grunts to her sparring partner as she blocks his fingers from jabbing her in the throat.
“Nah. He stayed in bed today,” the man replies, groaning as the woman knocks his feet out from under him. “Good thing, too,” he pants from the ground. “He couldn’t stop coughing last night. Kept me up for hours.”
“Typical Maxon,” the woman laughs as she offers the man a hand up. “Have you considered introducing him to soap? If his hands weren’t so dirty all the time, maybe he wouldn’t catch every little sniffle that goes around.”
“It’s more the company he keeps, if you ask me,” the man chuckles as they get ready to go again. “Always going into the Ashes for something.”
“Less talking, more punching!” I shout, even as I try to remember if I’ve gotten anywhere near the absent man in question during our recent practices.
A cold wind rushes past us, whispering promises of winter, of endless gray days coming soon. It dries my damp forehead and covers the musk of sweaty bodies by carrying over the sweet, lightly tart scent of bergamot trees from the courtyard and gardens.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with sweet air, and gag.
There’s something sour in the wind all of a sudden, something that reeks of strong whiskey, poor bathing habits, and possibly vomit.
“Morning, all,” Jax calls dourly. His dark curls have grown too shaggy, hanging down into his eyes as he staggers onto the grounds. “Sparrow, you started without me?” He clutches a hand to his chest in mock agony. “I’m wounded.”
Karston, who’s got enough natural talent that I’ve asked him to give pointers to another sparring pair nearby, tilts his head toward Jax and shoots me a long-suffering look.
“I’m ready to bust some heads,” Jax says, gripping my shoulder to steady himself as he sways on the spot. The whiskey smell is worse up close, making my eyes water. “Just point to where you need me.”
I try my best to keep my face pleasant. I don’t want to push him any further away than my leaving already did, but I also don’t have time for this.
“Nipper!” I call to the dragon. She quickly found a use for herself during our training sessions: picking up fallen arrows for the archery students—when she isn’t too busy playing chase with Lysander, of course.
The pink dragon, her mouth full of arrows clutched carefully between her pointy teeth, pricks her ears in my direction.
“Bring me my coffee beans, would you?”
After quickly depositing the gathered arrows at the students’ feet, Nipper bounds off on my errand. She’s surprisingly smart, at least for a creature who peed in the central courtyard fountain last night. Her tail swishes behind her as she runs, making me smile despite the pee incident. She’s got my attitude, too.
As soon as Nipper has delivered the coffee beans—and received belly rubs as payment—I shove a fistful at Jax and murmur, “Eat. These should clear your head.”
He nods, then shakes himself, as if trying to wake up further.
Somewhere on the grounds, a man cries out in pain.
“Make sure he doesn’t endanger himself or others,” I plead with Karston before rushing off to deal with the latest training injury.
Karston nods, guiding Jax to a spot where he can sit down while he eats the coffee beans. He’s patient, even as Jax snaps at him and tries to shake him off—almost like he’s had practice at this. I’m beginning to enjoy having Karston around. If I overlook his lack of experience, it’s like having another necromancer in our midst.
Across the field, I find a man with a broken nose and his apologetic sparring partner who sneezes with every other breath. Most of the trainees still spend more time nursing injuries than they do learning, but then, they’re trying to cram years of practice into a matter of days.
I wish I could trust even a single one with a blade yet. But that will come in time.
After balling up an old shirt to stanch the blood flow and sending the unhappy man off to Danial for some healing, I’m finally able to check on Jax again.
The trouble is, he’s not where Karston left him.
My heartbeat quickens as I scan the grounds. He’s nowhere in sight.
Not wanting to draw anyone’s attention away from what they should be focused on—training—I wait until Karston’s finished chatting with another sparring pair before pulling him aside. I don’t want to go to the Rotten Rose alone, and that’s the first place I intend to look for Jax. On second thought, I call Nipper over, too, and clip her leather lead to her collar.
Her tail thumps against Karston’s legs as she waits to see where we’re going, making the purring sound that means she’s pleased with me. Between her barking, purring, tail wagging, and love of Lysander’s fish meals, I don’t think she knows what sort of animal she is.
“He’s gone,” I whisper to Karston as Nipper strains at the lead, ready for an adventure.
“What? No!” Karston looks wildly around, then mutters a Jax-worthy curse under his breath. “I’m so sorry. I was watching him until just a little while ago. If it wasn’t for those two”—he pauses, pointing to the sparring partners he was just overseeing—“actually trying to kill each other, I wouldn’t have had to look away at all. It’s like there’s a new problem around here every bleeding minute.”
I can’t help it—I grin. “Welcome to my life, my friend.” Karston raises his brows at that, and I continue, “If you’re serious about testing out this partnership, now’s the time. What do you say? Are you up for helping me find Jax and bringing him back?” I cross my arms and glower at the empty space where I saw Jax last. “He needs us to save him from himself, no matter how much he protests.” I have some experience with that, after all. And by the shadow that flits across Karston’s gaze, he does, too.
“I’m in,” he agrees without hesitation. “Partner.” As I shoot him a look, he winces and asks, “What? Too much?”
I shake my head. “Don’t push it. Hey, cover for me!” I call to Danial over my shoulder as Karston and I race off.
Given how slowly Jax was moving when he got here, I’m betting we can catch him before he enters the pub, if we’re fast enough. And I’d rather not go in there.
“Have you been to the Ashes before?” I ask Karston between breaths.
I don’t hear his answer. About a hundred feet to our right, on the third-story balcony of a tailor’s shop, balancing precariously on the balcony railing’s edge, is Jax.
Karston shouts his name as Jax leaps into the air.
I don’t have the breath to say anything.
But instead of plummeting to the ground like a stone, Jax disappears. One moment he’s there, then I blink and he’s gone. Narrowing my eyes at the spot where he vanished, I see it: the faint blue outline of a gate to the spirit world.
After what we went through with Vane and his army of Shades—after how his mentor, Master Nicanor, died—I can’t believe he’d break the necromancer’s first rule: Never go into the Deadlands alone. I’m scared for him, not because of what’s lurking in there, but because I don’t know what he’ll do.
Turning back to Karston and taking a shaky breath, I mutter, “I hope you’re ready for this. Looks like we’re going to the Deadlands.”
Song of the Dead Page 16