Flintlock (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  “Yes,” Leaf said grimly. “And what worries me is who she’ll find now that she’s free.”

  Barren kept his eyes on the crowd, searching for her silhouette. He caught sight of it. The back of her dark cloak, hood drawn up, probably hoping to blend in with the crowd and the night. He ran for her. When he reached her, he grabbed her arm and twisted her around, but the woman staring back at him wasn’t Aethea. It was Em, Emmalyn Levianth, the assassin who had saved them in Estrellas, Devon’s love, and a friend of his father’s. He stood shocked.

  “Em?” he asked breathlessly.

  He was even more surprised when she tore away from him and ran. “Em!” he shouted. What was she doing here of all places? And why was she running from him? Was it coincidence that both Aethea and Em were here? Both were assassins. Perhaps they were working together?

  He took off after her, but Em, true to her nature, was fast and agile, and by the way she ducked around corners and maneuvered the causeways, he guessed she knew these streets well. Their chase drew more and more eyes. While he tried to ignore the attention, he knew that they couldn’t avoid the trouble coming their way for long.

  And he was right.

  “Barren!” the voice belonged to Larkin, and when he halted and turned, he saw that she and Leaf were surrounded by a set of grizzly men. Leaf had drawn his bow, the arrow rested against the string with stillness.

  Barren drew his sword and approached, but the circle of men opened, and more men came out of the shadows to surround the three of them.

  “You pickin’ on that lass?” One asked, his teeth looked black, and he spit at Barren’s feet. He had a feeling these men didn’t really care, that they were just looking for a fight. Barren and Leaf instinctively moved closer to Larkin. They had a shared, unspoken fear.

  “Let’s get one thing straight boys,” said Barren. “I’m not looking for a fight, but if you want it, you’ll rue the day you messed with us.”

  The men laughed. “Sure didn’t look that way to us,” said another.

  Barren surveyed the men, locating weapons. A few had swords, others had small knives, but most—and he was sure by the scars on their knuckles—fought with their fists.

  “I’m not so sure any of you are a good judge of character,” Leaf replied.

  There was sudden movement from behind him, and the Elf turned to release an arrow. It lodged straight in the heart of a man. He fell with only a final gasp. Barren gaped and watched as Leaf drew back his hood, exposing his heritage to everyone who surrounded them. The words he spoke next made Barren’s skin crawl. “Challenge me,” he said. “I will bathe in your blood.”

  And the men did challenge him because Leaf was something they wished to destroy. Barren tightened his grip on the blade and swiveled quickly as one of the men tossed his dagger. The blade twirled fast, and he somehow managed to hit it with his sword, shifting its trajectory. It landed far away in the darkness, but the man charged at Barren, and he had no choice but to attack him head on.

  His hood flew off his head and someone yelled, “He’s half-elf!”

  That seemed to stir even more commotion, and the fight became all that more violent. Barren was distracted. He heard the whiz of arrows and the clang of Larkin’s blade. The harder they fought, the more men piled up around their feet, yet still more came out of the darkness.

  And then suddenly, the ground shook violently. Barren found himself struggling to stay upright. The buildings around them seemed to moan, as if they, too, feared falling. Pieces of brick and mortar broke free from the buildings and tumbled to the ground. If the earth shook any harder, the whole of Aryndel would crumble. The tremors seemed to last for a lifetime, and when they were finally over, the men who had surrounded them, ready for blood, fled.

  The pirates watched them flee, dazed.

  Well, I would say that was luck,” a familiar voice sounded from the shadows. It was Em.

  Barren turned to face her.

  “You're here? You watched us struggle?”

  “I wasn't going to let you die, if that is what you are insinuating.”

  “And what are you doing here in Aryndel?” Barren demanded, ignoring her jibe. “And running? From me? Like I am some enemy?”

  “You can never be sure of your enemies, Barren Reed. You of all people should know that.”

  Barren wasn't sure which he should be more upset about, the obvious jab at the twins’ betrayal or her insinuation that she couldn't trust him. If he had to guess, this was about the Elders.

  “I suppose we should move along. Those Earthquakes aren't so common.”

  She moved between them, and they watched her as she did. They exchanged glances and then followed her, drawing up their hoods.

  It started to rain as they headed farther into Aryndel, moving around corner after corner, spiraling into the heart of the island. Barren was nervous here, and even more so now that Aethea had escaped them. They needed to find her, but if she’d made it to the Underground already, they would have no advantage. No matter what sort of pull Aethea had in the market, Barren and Leaf’s presence would be a problem for some. There were few ex-Runners in Mariana, and those who were didn’t venture near the Underground.

  Em kept them in the shadows. He hadn’t thought to ask where she might be taking them, because, truly, there were things he wanted to know about Em. Was she staying here? The way she moved through the darkness, the way she cast her eyes about before moving between streets made him think she wasn’t any more comfortable here than the rest of them.

  At last, she slipped down a short set of steps into the basement of a building. She held the door open for them, and once they were inside, she shut it tight behind her, leaving them in darkness. Something scrapped against the floor, and then there was silence. Their air was stale and they were uncomfortable in their wet clothes. After a moment, a candle ignited in the room, and Barren saw that Em had pushed a small wooden dresser in front of the door.

  “Are you afraid you were followed?”

  “I don’t believe we were followed,” she said. “But you can trust few here.”

  There was a tension between them Barren couldn’t quite place. None of them were strangers, and yet this felt strange. Barren exchanged a look with Leaf and Larkin.

  “Does Devon know where you are?” Barren asked.

  “No,” she said nothing else on the subject. “I will make tea.”

  He’d seen Em kill, so it was unusual to watch her as she did something so normal like making tea. She placed a cast iron teapot over the dying embers of a small fireplace, and fumbled with the cups a bit. Perhaps she was nervous.

  “We don’t really have time to have tea,” said Barren.

  “Oh yes. The girl you were looking for when you found me.” Em continued to make tea. “What is your hurry? If she knows these streets, she will find you.”

  “She will only find us to ensure we are dead,” said Larkin, and she glared at Barren as she spoke.

  Em paused, looking at them. “Either way, she will find you. Is she why you are here?”

  “She is part of the reason,” said Barren. He paused for a moment and reached into his pocket. “She used these bullets to attempt to kill Tetherion. She missed and hit Albatross instead. A man named John Newell said these weapons are called the vacair, and that Cove will die.”

  Em stopped making tea, and her hands fell to her sides. “And this girl, she got these from the Underground here?”

  Barren nodded. “She said her supplier was a woman named Sabine.”

  Em turned away and started to pace.

  “Five of our brethren were also killed with these bullets,” said Leaf.

  “Do you know who killed them?” she asked.

  “The same woman who shot Cove,” said Barren. “Her name is Aethea Moore.”

  “Do you know of the dealer she spoke of?” Leaf asked. “Is that why you are here? Because you know about the vacair?”

  “I did suspect the vacair were runn
ing through the Underground,” she said, and hesitated. “The Corsairs have intercepted ships recently carrying Underground goods. Among them were these weapons. Their leader, Dominique, has told me that a woman named Sabine funnels the weapons through her channel, though we are not sure who her supplier is.”

  If the Corsairs were intercepting ships, it was possible they were responsible for destroying the ship Aryes was on. It was also possible Sabine’s supplier had gone through other channels to funnel weapons.

  “The Corsairs?” Barren couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re working for the Corsairs?”

  “They have information,” she said with a shrug. “And I’m wanted by the Elders. Do you think the mark I swore by counts for anything now?”

  “Yes,” Barren argued. “Yes it counts! You swore to uphold the code!”

  “Sometimes you take chances to get the upper hand, Barren, and this is one of them! You don’t want anymore of these weapons to move beyond these shores, trust me.” She took a breath to calm down. “The vacair…they…they drain life forces. There is only one man who lives with a vacair wound.” There was quiet. Everyone knew Cove’s fate, but somehow it still didn’t seem real.

  “There is no cure,” Barren said quietly.

  She shrugged. “Dark magic can cure dark magic, but for a price. You know that’s how it works.”

  “We know how it works, what we don’t understand is why it is so cruel,” said Larkin.

  “It’s all about the intentions, what energy is placed into the magic,” she said. “Ruthless intentions create ruthless magic, pure intentions create pure magic. It’s simple.”

  But it didn’t seem that simple, because everything they’d encountered from the bloodstone to the hemlock needle, and now the vacair, had been evil. The only commonality was that his enemies had a handle on it all.

  “So are these weapons being made anew?” asked Leaf. “Or are these old?”

  Barren lifted his hand and extended it toward Em, who seemed apprehensive. She took a few steps toward Barren but did not take the shells into her hand. She stared down at them, her face grim.

  “These are new,” she said. “Recently made.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Because the magic feels new.”

  Barren met her gaze. He could feel magic, but he didn’t know the difference between old and new magic. And how did Em know? Could she feel magic, too?

  “So what? That means the Lyrics are alive? Does that mean they are the suppliers?”

  She smiled faintly, but it was not a happy smile. She reached for the bullets, but she drew back quickly and bent at the waist, holding her hand to her stomach as if she’d been struck by something. Barren reached for her, but as she uncurled from her position and straightened, there was a new Em before them. There were parts of her that were the same. Her long blond hair was still streaked with silver, she still had blue eyes, and there was a fierce air to her. But she was different. There was an ancient quality to her features, and her ears were slender and pointed, and there was a sharpness to her whole appearance. She was an Elf when minutes before she’d been human.

  Barren stumbled back. “Who are you?” he whispered. He didn’t think he really needed her to answer that. There was power here now, stronger than that which had radiated from his compass.

  She looked down at her hands and he swore he saw colors of green and blue pulse from her fingertips.

  “I am Emmalyn Levianth,” she said.

  “You’re a Lyric,” the tone of Leaf’s voice made them all stare. He had never really come face-to-face with one. He’d seen Illiana, the twins’ mother, briefly, but had not known what she was until after she’d died. Lord Alder had taken care to ensure no Elf remembered what a Lyric was, and his son was not immune to the brainwashing.

  “So you knew the whole time? Where the bloodstone was? How to get to D’avana? You’ve always had your memory?”

  She said nothing. Barren wasn’t sure how to feel, but mostly he was angry and he felt betrayed.

  “Does Devon know that you’re…that you’re a…”

  “Lyric?” she asked, her features were cold. “He remembers that I am Lyric, but his memory of me as this,” she gestured to herself. “Was taken with everything else.”

  Barren just stared without really comprehending anything.

  “If you’re a Lyric, how many others are there?” asked Leaf.

  “Of those who lived on D’Avana, only me. But of the others who were born after us, I do not know.”

  “What do you mean, born after you?”

  “Lyrics are born to Elvish parents,” said Em. “It is an unpredictable gene that no one, not even the King of the Elves, can control,” Em met the prince’s gaze. “I know what you are thinking. You are thinking of your father’s words. He told you Lyrics do not exist, and he made sure they did not exist in Arcarum by taking them from their parents.”

  “And what did he do with them?”

  “He has had to imprison them somewhere. Lord Alder is too frightened to destroy his only weapon,” said Em. “A king can only sit by so long and watch his race waste away.”

  “You said you haven’t had magic in the last five years,” said Barren. “Since my father’s death? Why? What changed?”

  “The bloodstone was destroyed,” she said. “Upon Sysara and Kenna’s death, they agreed to place a cap on magic. If no one could access it, no one would be tempted to use it. When it was destroyed, the cap was removed.”

  She didn’t need to say anything else.

  “You knew this,” he accused. “And you begged me to destroy it!”

  “I did,” she said, and her features were proud and severe. “We were all in agreement that the bloodstone was dangerous. I would prefer magic in my hands so that I might use it for good, rather than a bloodstone in the hands of your king.”

  “He is not my king!” Barren yelled, and his chest heaved. Heavy silence followed, and Barren didn’t feel like he could be in this room anymore. He moved toward the door, but Leaf’s next questions stopped him in his tracks.

  “How is it possible to make a Lyric a slave?” Leaf asked, and when Em did not respond, he asked again. “You’re saying my father imprisons Lyrics. How does an Elfin king with no power over Lyric keep them as slaves?”

  “He took our power,” she said. “He used an amulet as a channel. It was called the King’s Gold.” There it was again. The King’s Gold. Barren still could not understand why Lord Alder would relinquish such an important piece of magic to Tetherion, even if it was to secure his own kingdom. “It was made up of five Relics from the ancient Lyrics,” she continued. “After the bloodstone was hidden, Jess took it from Alder and hid the pieces, only returning mine.”

  Em pulled on a glittering gold chain around her neck. At the end of the chain, hung something that favored a star, but Barren felt like each edge of the star resembled a blade, and each edge bore small rubies that sparkled under the faint light. It was likely the piece was as deadly as it was beautiful.

  “Relics are all representations of our greatest strength. My strength…is war,” she paused.

  “So what are the other four, then?” asked Larkin.

  “Kenna’s was earth. Her Relic was a flower crafted of opal and diamond. Ara’s was water. She had a gem called the heart of the ocean, it is a blue crystal. Illiana’s was light, her Relic resembles a star-filled sky,” said Em, looking at Larkin, and then her eyes turned to Barren. “You should already have Sysara’s. You took it with you when you found her body in D’Avana. The compass, for she was strong in everything.”

  The compass. The ache of its absence felt heavy around his neck. Aethea had known it was important enough to be considered as leverage. When he’d captured her from the Maris guards, she’d said all her belongings had been confiscated and the compass was now in the hands of Tetherion. Had Aethea intended to hand over the Relic to Tetherion? And if so, why had she tried to assassinate Tetherion at the
ball? Unless it was all a ruse?

  “I do not have the compass,” said Barren. “It was taken from me.”

  “Let me guess. This Aethea Moore has taken it?” asked Em.

  Barren met her gaze.

  “This woman you’ve spoken of, Aethea Moore, I’ve a feeling she is not who she appears to be,” said Em. Suddenly Barren thought of how Em had kept up an illusion of being mortal. Could Aethea be a Lyric as well? “There are few who would know what value your compass had as a Relic of Sysara. Few of mortal blood, anyway. If Aethea is a Lyric, I suspect she wants to be in a position to obtain the King’s Gold.”

  “For what purpose, if she can already wield magic?” asked Barren.

  “Relics are powerful magic,” said Em. “If she wanted to, she could raise your mother from the dead.”

  The thought was unsettling, and yet somehow hopeful.

  “So why let it fall into Tetherion’s hands so easily?” asked Leaf.

  “Because he is a mortal man and no threat to her. The magic will corrupt him before he can wield any power.”

  “We have to find her,” said Barren.

  “You must let me find her,” said Em. “If she is truly who I think she is, you can do nothing to stop her.”

  “You can’t just throw up a flashing sign that says you’re magic,” Barren argued.

  “People are not aware of Lyrics. Why would you invite panic sooner by exposing yourself?” asked Leaf. “We can’t risk that. Whatever you do will reflect on all Elves.”

  “And what if you are captured and used as a weapon?” asked Barren. “If Aethea and this woman, this Sabine, are in league together, don’t you think she’s prepared for something like you?”

  “She will never be prepared for something like me,” said Em, and Barren shuddered.

  Barren was slowly beginning to understand the tangled web of his father’s past. After the Ore Wars, his father, his mother, even Lord Alder had all done what they could to quash magic from existence to keep it from evil hands. They had succeeded for a time, as Barren had grown up in a world where magic was only a rumor and those who believed in it were thought of as superstitious. But it was back and for the first time in his life, he feared losing a fight, because a fight lost to dark magic meant the end of Mariana.