The Black Knife

by Jodi Meadows

Everyone looked at Lord Hensley. Even Aunt Kathleen managed to rouse herself out of her constant despair long enough to frown.

  “I assure you,” I said, before anyone else had a chance to find their voices, “nepotism played no part. James is simply the best man for the job. I wouldn’t entrust anyone else with my life. Nor would my father, who approved the placement.”

  Father kept his tone even, but his displeasure with Hensley was evident. “You were not in Skyvale in the days before the One-Night War, when Aecor’s General Lien kidnapped Tobiah. Even as a young child, James tried to protect Tobiah. I would not entrust my son’s life to just anyone.”

  I couldn’t help it. I glanced at Mother, because the truth was that Father was entrusting his legitimate son’s life to his illegitimate son.

  Mother scowled and said nothing. Aunt Kathleen’s eyes cut to James.

  “I suppose,” mused Hensley, “our prince does have a rather exciting history. So many brushes with death. The saints must want to keep him alive.”

  “We all want the prince kept alive.” James’s voice was low and dangerous, but when the footmen came to serve everyone, his tone turned light again. “Thank you.”

  That was something I’d always liked about James; he never forgot to show appreciation toward the staff. Most of the others around the table ignored the servers, though Lady Meredith did cast a faint smile toward the man who poured her wine.

  The first course was a spicy soup, heavy with lentils and vegetables. It was good, but it left a sharp fire on my tongue—and possibly my breath. And I was sitting next to—who my parents hoped would be—my future bride. Who had prepared the menu?

  Idle conversation about the food and wine fluttered about the room, but the tension was heavy with questions. I could almost hear the gossip about my accusation of Hensley a few weeks ago, and the stump of his hand now. James had said earlier that people wondered if he’d fall out of favor now, with so much trouble surrounding him.

  “My apologies if I offended,” Lord Hensley said after everyone had tasted their soup. His left hand trembled, making the spoon rattle against the edge of the bowl; he wasn’t used to switching hands yet. “I simply meant that it’s such an important job, keeping the future king alive. I’m glad to hear the duty has fallen to someone worthy of the task. This can be such a dangerous city.”

  “I’ll say it can.” Lord Chuter leaned forward, glad to have something to add to the conversation at last. “Just last night there was a massacre in Greenstone. It’s such a shame that people need to ruin an otherwise nice city.”

  Chills swept through me as I caught Hensley’s eye. “Oh yes.” I turned to Lord Chuter. “I heard about that. It’s a tragedy.”

  “Tragedy might be too strong a word, if you don’t mind me saying.” Lord Chuter took a deep drink from his wine; a footman rushed forward to refill it, perhaps unwisely. “I don’t wish to be insensitive, but they were part of the Nightmare gang. Mostly. And glowmen. They slaughtered each other, it seems.”

  Lady Corcoran lifted her chin. “Mostly?”

  “There was a young girl.” Lord Chuter glanced at Chey, his expression softening. “It seems she was caught in the violence, and killed. That, Your Highness, I would suggest is a tragedy.”

  “I agree.” The words rasped from my throat. The sting of my soup did nothing to quell the ache.

  “A young girl.” Hensley sent me the quickest of sneers. “That is quite tragic. That poor girl.”

  My chest ached with the memory of Romily’s small body cracking against the warehouse wall, and the still, pale way she lay in death. Under the table, my hands clenched. Killing those glowmen had only been a distraction from the real problem.

  “I heard, too,” Lord Hensley said, “that the vigilante was involved.”

  “Vigilante?” Mother scowled. “What vigilante?”

  Hensley glanced at my parents. “He’s a new menace. Don’t worry yourself for not having heard of him yet. Likely the police will catch him quickly.”

  “But you think he was at the warehouse massacre? Doing what?” asked Mother.

  Lord Hensley shrugged and twisted his mouth as though to imply this wasn’t a topic for polite discussion. “Could be he was helping them, or working against them. It’s hard to say. I’ve led forces to deal with a few would-be vigilantes in my time. I’ll take care of this one, too, if you would like.”

  The same way Hensley was “taking care” of firefly? Right.

  “That would be appreciated.” Father coughed into his handkerchief, missing the amused look Hensley shot my way. “The vigilante is someone the city could do without.”

  “I agree.” I swept my gaze across the table. “No one is above the law, though some clearly believe otherwise. Don’t you think so, my lady?” I turned to Lady Meredith.

  She placed her soup spoon on the table and folded her hands. “Yes, Your Highness. Is this vigilante trained? Does he know how to handle tense situations, like police and soldiers do? Can we know that he’ll put civilians first? Or is collateral damage acceptable? We don’t know his motives, and that makes him dangerous, not just to the ruling and noble families of the city, but to the general populace as well. It is our duty to protect them.”

  “I could not agree more, my lady.” I made myself smile warmly. She’d brought up some good points.

  “What was the fight about, I wonder?” James cocked his head. “Nightmares aren’t known for working in that part of the city. Something else must have drawn them to Greenstone.”

  “Shine, I’m sure. Or that new variant.” Lord Chuter shook his head. “It’s such a plague on this city.”

  I leaned toward him. “Last time we dined together, you told me about the hounds you’re training to seek out shine. The more I hear about violence related to shine and firefly, the more I think about your dogs and how they might help rid this city of that filth.”

  Lord Chuter looked pleased I’d remembered. “Yes, I’ve written to my man in Two Rivers City and urged him to push harder toward the first trials. I’m hopeful that we’ll have positive results by the end of this year.”

  That was too far off. After tonight, firefly would be all over the streets. If it truly did everything Hensley promised, he’d be unstoppable.

  “Please keep me apprised, my lord. I’m eager to put a stop to the spread of shine, especially after the death of my tutor. Not to mention the infestation of flashers in the city. If it wasn’t for them continuing to use their magic and drawing the wraith nearer—” I bit off my words before I could reveal the deep rage that seethed inside me.

  Lady Meredith offered a thoughtful look, and under the table she touched the back of my hand. I almost jumped, the action was so forward of her, but instead, I forced out the anger in a long breath.

  “My apologies.” I made my tone more even. “I shouldn’t have gone off like that.”

  “It’s clear that you care very deeply for the Indigo Kingdom.” Lady Corcoran’s voice was smooth and sweet, like Meredith’s. She gave me a gentle smile. “It’s a fine quality in a future king. Much better than one who simply does not care what befalls his subjects.”

  “Agreed,” said Father. “Tobiah will make a fine king one day.”

  Around the table, others nodded and concurred. Even Lord Hensley.

  “As much as I appreciate your kindness on that matter, we should return to the reason we’re visiting Rayner Manor tonight.” I glanced at Aunt Kathleen, who’d been sitting silently the whole time. Her expression was soft and distant, too lost in her grief to fully participate. Hopefully returning to her family home would help her recovery. “Aunt Kathleen, I know I, for one, will miss you when you’re back in Hawes. . . .”

  THREE

  “YOUR HIGHNESS?” LADY Meredith leaned toward me.

  I looked up from my place near my parents. Everyone was standing in the entrance hall, thanking Aunt Kathleen for her hospitality, and wishing her well on her trip to Hawes. I’d done my part, and for the last f
ew minutes, I’d been staring at the front door, where the Hensleys had left not long ago.

  Tonight. The firefly distribution happened tonight.

  I needed to get away.

  Meredith tilted her head deeper into the entrance hall, lifted an eyebrow, and started toward a statue of Saint Shumway just a few steps away.

  I followed, my hands behind my back. “My lady?” This was very forward of her, but we were still in view—mostly—of the others. James stood between us and the other group.

  “I wanted to say, Your Highness, I thought the way you stood up to Lord Hensley this evening to be quite admirable. He’s . . . an unpleasant man.”

  Sharply, I recalled the tournament we’d watched together, and how she’d seen Professor Knight’s reaction to Hensley touching his shoulder. She hadn’t forgotten that. And she hadn’t trusted Hensley since.

  Well. That was something.

  “I find him disagreeable as well, but my father is quite fond of him. It seems we’ll have to endure his presence until that fondness fades.” And it would, as soon as I proved that Hensley was responsible for firefly and murder.

  Meredith fidgeted with her fingers a moment. Deciding something. “I do hope your father takes care in his dealings with Hensley. I’m sure he will, of course, but . . .”

  “What is it?” My chest felt tight with anxiety.

  Her teeth were pearl white against the pink of her lips. “It’s just, I saw the way he was with your professor. And I inquired of some of the ladies, and it seems shortly after his arrival in Skyvale, Hensley had approached Lord Roth. They discussed some sort of business, but never came to an agreement. And then”—she glanced toward the back of the house—“you know.”

  Interesting. Perhaps Hensley believed Roth would be useful to him in the firefly business. If he thought Roth was a flasher, he might have wanted that power to help manufacture the firefly. Or even something more mundane, such as using preexisting connections.

  I shook away the pensive thoughts. I’d figure it out after I had Lord Hensley in prison, a metal glove on that awful hand of his.

  “Thank you for that insight, my lady. I appreciate your concern.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure nothing will come of it, but a lady develops a sense about dangerous men.”

  And Lord Hensley struck her as a dangerous man. Perhaps there was something to that sense after all. “And what about me?” I teased. “I’m a fair swordsman. Do I strike you as a dangerous man?”

  Lady Meredith laughed. “Not one bit, I’m afraid! Sword skills notwithstanding.”

  I grinned, even though a part of my ego was certainly offended. But our eyes met. Hers were as blue as the summer sky as she let her gaze flick down—to my mouth.

  Oh.

  The jovial mood faded into anticipation as I glanced at her lips, too. They looked soft. And without my body asking my head’s permission, I leaned down and kissed her.

  She gasped a little, but pressed her lips against mine. Just a brief, questioning kiss. And then we drew apart.

  “That was nice.” Her voice sounded a little huskier, but it might have been my imagination.

  “It was.” My smile faltered when her parents called for her. “Good night, my lady.”

  She curtsied and hurried away, her cheeks flushed pink.

  I let my gaze follow her as she and her family left the house.

  “Well.” James came to stand beside me. “I didn’t watch, I swear, but how was it?”

  “Good.” Definitely good. Nice. And I wouldn’t mind if it happened again. But anticlimactic, too. Missing something. Just because it felt nice didn’t mean it felt right.

  Nevertheless, I’d made a promise to marry her. I got James and a beautiful girl who was nice to kiss. There wasn’t a downside, beyond that vague sense of disappointment.

  While I’d been pondering the nature of that kiss, my parents had left, the Chuters had left, and even Aunt Kathleen had vanished somewhere. Leaving us alone.

  “We should go.”

  Outside, our carriage was waiting for us, the liveried driver slouched on the front platform until he spotted us and hopped down to let us in.

  As the carriage moved down the long drive, James leaned back in his seat. “Do you think maybe you were a little too obvious with Lord Hensley?”

  “I wasn’t the one making death threats.” I started to shrug, but the motion hurt. The carriage turned onto the street. Wheels clacked over paving stones and the clock tower chimed twenty.

  “If you’re right and he’s the one who killed Lord Roth—” James cut himself off, head cocked. “We’ve turned the wrong way.”

  I peeled the curtain off the window. He was right. We were heading south, toward the Hawksbill gate rather than the palace. I lowered my voice. “Was that driver the same one from earlier?”

  “I—I’m not sure. I don’t think so.” James glanced at my empty hip and scowled. “From now on, you stay armed. I don’t care if it isn’t princely.”

  I wished I were armed, too. And if I’d realized Hensley would be at Rayner Manor this evening, I would have brought every weapon I owned. “Stop the carriage. Interrogate the driver. Find out who hired him.”

  James gave a clipped nod as he pushed to his feet—but stayed crouched because the carriage was short—and moved toward the door. Then, he shoved open the door, swung out with it, and launched himself onto the roof of the carriage.

  Had I known he could do that?

  I grabbed hold of a lamp hook on the wall and started to pull myself up, but boots thumped on the roof, the door slammed shut, and the driver cried out.

  The carriage lurched and jerked, forcing me to drop back to my seat. I held on tight, not wanting to be thrown around. More shouts and thumps came from outside, and the carriage swung wildly.

  The driver called for help. James replied with a few choice words. Hoofbeats rang across the night as the carriage careened down the street, faster.

  Bangs and thuds sounded from the fore as they fought for control of the carriage, but at last the noise ceased and the whole vehicle came to an abrupt halt.

  I slumped in my seat, heart speeding now that it was all over.

  “Tobiah,” James called. “If you’re done polishing the buttons on your suit, it’d be nice if you helped now.”

  I pushed my way out of the carriage and strode around toward the driving platform, trying to look stronger than I felt. After the week I’d had, getting jostled around in a runaway carriage was not helping my recovery.

  “Maybe you should consider a life of vigilantism.” I grabbed a bar to steady myself and stepped up to find the driver crumpled at the bottom of the platform, and James holding the reins in one hand, his sword in the other.

  “I don’t think so.” He scooted to make room for me—which involved propping his boots on the driver’s back—and passed me the reins. “My job is hard enough as it is.”

  After a few minutes, we were back at Rayner Manor and called for the house guards.

  There was a general flurry of activity while the driver was cuffed and dragged into the house. “Search the grounds for the real driver,” I told the head of house security. “James and I will interrogate the impostor.”

  He saluted and took a handful of his men out the door, leaving James and me in the front hall.

  “You almost sounded confident about giving orders just then.” James smirked and motioned me into a parlor where the impostor was bound to a chair.

  The stranger’s head hung, as though still unconscious, but his jaw was tight with the awareness that he’d been caught before his mission was complete. He was awake, and when I stepped in front of him, his head turned just slightly, tracking me. Likely he was hoping for a rescue. I doubted Lord Hensley would bother.

  James stood next to me and lifted an eyebrow at me: the invitation to practice giving orders—or demanding information, in this case—was clear.

  I put my hands behind my back and lifted my chin. “What
is your name?”

  The driver said nothing, only looked up and narrowed his eyes. There was a faint, acrid stink about him.

  His bruising face was familiar, but I couldn’t place him. There was no rust-colored tattoo on his cheek, which would have given him away as a Nightmare. Anyone would have recognized that right off. No, he could only be one of Lord Hensley’s hired men. Maybe one of the men I’d seen the night Hensley and the Nightmares met.

  “You know who I am?” I didn’t like standing here unarmed, but waiting to find a weapon wouldn’t send a strong signal. Like I could only be a prince when I had a blade in my hand. But no. I had to be a prince with the way I held myself, and the way I spoke. I had to be a prince with the way I trusted my personal guard to be the one with the weapon.

  The driver gave a single nod. “Crown Prince Tobiah Pierce. The black-mask vigilante.”

  My chest tightened. I’d been the black-mask vigilante for only a week, and my identity was compromised again.

  I glanced at James, but his expression remained hard.

  Well, we wouldn’t kill him, that was for certain. Not to protect my identity. He was human. And I still wasn’t sure what I’d done last night was justified. But deciding how to deal with yet another identity leak was a problem for later.

  “You might as well tell me where you were planning to take me.” I lowered my voice. “If you know who I am, then it shouldn’t be a surprise to you that I’ll go there anyway once we’re done here. Your job will be complete regardless of your presence.”

  “So you can have the upper hand when you face him?” The man frowned, then rubbed his peeling, red nose against his shoulder. “I see no reason I should help you.”

  I glanced at James. “I see two options for this gentleman. What do you think, cousin?”

  James nodded. “He either tells us where Hensley’s waiting to ambush you, or he doesn’t. If he goes with the first option, then he sits in jail with perhaps a lighter punishment for cooperating with us. If he goes with the second, though, he sits in jail just waiting for Hensley to learn that he not only failed, but got caught. And I’m sure he’s heard about the way Hensley deals with people who don’t perform their jobs to his satisfaction.”