Cry of Metal & Bone

by L. Penelope

Had Father selected this particular gala at this particular location because he remembered her fondness for this place? There were other parties going on tonight he could have chosen. That thought created the tiniest kernel of doubt within her. But she’d never known him to be nostalgic.

  Vanesse appeared composed on the outside, if a bit rigid. In the taxi, which Kendos had thankfully swept for amalgamations, the Foreign Service agent had repeatedly reassured both Clove and Vanesse that no harm would come to any of them that night. Lizvette trusted the men. They had served in the army under Jack, and he trusted them, but she didn’t put it past her father to engage in something horrible that no one had predicted.

  Kendos led them to a line of attendees entering the museum. Inside, they passed the same interactive exhibits Lizvette had once loved. As she grew older, she understood that the staff monitored the games and puzzles closely. This “museum” was just an elaborate method for screening children with special talents or certain skills in order to help place them in careers that would benefit the commonwealth. Those excelling in activities that displayed a predilection for engineering or mechanics were filtered to specialized training programs. The rest of the children were funneled toward Administration careers or the factories, depending on their classes. Nothing was ever as it seemed.

  At the center of the building was a great atrium where the upper levels of the museum were visible. As a child, she’d been afraid of heights, but she recalled bravely peeking over the edge on one of the upper levels to see the beauty of the museum spread out below.

  Now the ledge of every level was decorated with strands of lights. Below, a five-piece band sat on a raised stage with space for dancing in front. Round tables dotted the space, cloaked in starched white tablecloths and place settings rivaling those of the Elsiran palace.

  Laughter and gaiety surrounded them, but Lizvette and her friends were grim.

  “Clove!” several voices shouted from nearby. Suddenly there was a flurry of people encircling them, offering hearty congratulations. They were jostled and bumped by at least two dozen partygoers in various states of sobriety. Lizvette stiffened her limbs against the onslaught and grabbed Vanesse’s hand. A flashbulb popped, and she thought Vanesse might just jump out of her skin.

  Something brushed against her bare arm, and Lizvette felt a tug on her hand. She pulled it back, glaring at the crowd, but couldn’t tell which of the surrounding people had grabbed her. Pressed into her palm was a piece of paper—someone had just passed her a note.

  A bit panicked, she caught the eye of Kendos and was glad when he jumped into action, cutting a swath through the revelers and leading her and Vanesse to a relatively quiet part of the atrium.

  “What about Clove?” Vanesse asked, craning her neck for a look at the other woman.

  “We’ve got someone assigned to her,” Kendos said. “She’ll be safe.” Vanesse pursed her lips, not appearing entirely mollified.

  While the others watched the celebrants, Lizvette took a step back and surreptitiously opened the slip of paper.

  Change of plans. Meet in thirty minutes in the Ancient Beasts exhibit.

  She checked the clock on the wall. Father had moved up the meeting time by a full thirty minutes. Certain she was being watched closely, she scrutinized everyone in her range of sight.

  Were there listening devices near them now? Could she communicate the change to Kendos so he could tell Zivel and the others?

  She schooled her features carefully so as not to betray any of the fear coursing through her body. If Father suspected something, he would slip the net for sure, and any hope of bringing him to justice would be gone. Lizvette breathed deeply, hoping to stop the shivers that racked her, as she noticed several men nearby watching her with unusual interest.

  What in Sovereign’s name was she going to do?

  * * *

  Tai stayed hidden in the shadows of the third floor of the museum, peering at the atrium below. He’d kept Lizvette in his sights since she’d entered, looking stunning in her formfitting gown. She played her part well, but he was able to recognize the subtle signs of her nervousness. Fidgeting with her dress. Touching her hair. Wringing her hands.

  Vanesse was little better. She was skittish as a mouse with a cat on the loose. Her head darted around wildly, trying to take in the entire room at once. They sat at a table in a far corner, away from the worst of the chaos.

  Kendos had not yet left their side. At first he’d stood, making it clear that he was guarding them. Though Nirall was expecting the guards, the sergeant needn’t be so obvious. After a few words from Lizvette, Kendos sat down on Vanesse’s other side. The man was vigilant, and Tai couldn’t fault him for that. He and the other agents sprinkled throughout the room took their jobs and the safety of their charges seriously. Still, Tai had a bad feeling.

  He located Clove, who was as she had been for the past thirty minutes—in the center of a group of fans that hung on her every word. To all appearances, she was having the time of her life, holding court for a collection of admirers. But her head turned often to the corner where Vanesse sat. Clove wore her mask of merriment well and hid the toll it surely was taking.

  As Tai watched, Clove stopped midsentence before concealing her shock quickly and continuing. In the corner, Lizvette and Vanesse were on the move, heading toward the restroom. That was the plan, but they were early—very early—and the knot of uneasiness he’d been carrying loosened into a skein of dread.

  Could Lizvette have misunderstood the timing? He wished the Elsirans used some sort of communications amalgam so they could talk to one another over distances, but Zivel had shot down the idea, looking affronted by the mere suggestion. Tai shook his head. Elsirans and their hatred of technology … He was no lover of the magical contraptions, but efficiency was efficiency, and right now they were off script with no way of knowing what was really happening.

  The women bypassed the restroom as expected, but instead of veering left toward the outer door where Nirall had told Lizvette to meet, they went right, swiftly moving out of Tai’s field of vision. Thankfully, he and Zivel’s men had done reconnaissance on the building ahead of time. Three exhibit halls were on this side of the building, as well as a number of offices and storage rooms.

  In the atrium, several men—dressed in tuxedos but with the stiff bearings of soldiers—peeled themselves away from the party. Surely the agents had noticed that something was amiss, but Tai left his post anyway and raced down the stairs, sticking to the shadows as he headed for the corner where Zivel had indicated he’d be lying in wait for Nirall. He found the captain at the side door leading to the loading docks, whispering furiously to another man in his command.

  “What’s happening?” Tai asked. “Something’s wrong.”

  Zivel’s eyes narrowed. “They slipped into the side hall and we lost them. I’m not sure Miss Nirall has been entirely truthful with us.”

  A tic flickered in Tai’s jaw. “We don’t know what’s happened or what her Father has set up. If she went off book, there must be a reason.” He couldn’t imagine that she would betray Vanesse and fall victim to her father’s manipulations again. It just wasn’t possible.

  Zivel didn’t seem convinced. “We’re searching all the rooms on that side, but it will take some time.”

  “I’ll help,” Tai said through clenched teeth. “If we assume Nirall changed the plan at some point, then he must have found another way out since your men are guarding all the exits.”

  “There are no other ways,” Zivel said. “We reconned this building.”

  “I know, but we must have missed something.” Tai turned, eager to begin the search.

  Locked doors were no barrier to him. One of Zivel’s men looked flummoxed as Tai easily picked the lock to an office. The room had no window and was dark as pitch. He listened for any sound before closing the door and moving to the next one.

  They checked one windowless room after another until a door snicked open to reveal a s
pace lit by the moon shining in through a skylight above. The soft moonglow lent a dreamlike quality to the large, bulky objects cloaked in shadow spaced across the floor. Could the skylight be how Nirall planned to escape? It wasn’t likely that a man of his age would be able to shimmy up any kind of rope and exit that way—the exhibit hall was three stories tall—much less with a victim in tow. He must have some other plan.

  Muffled voices reached him from nearby. Tai recognized Lizvette. Her tone was low and urgent. He scanned the room and noted a door in the corner that was open a crack. A pale-blue glow, just a shade darker than the moonlight, streamed out.

  He motioned to the man behind him, who disappeared back into the hall to get reinforcements. Tai moved cautiously toward the door.

  “Who else are you working with?” Lizvette asked.

  “The messenger boy has been useful, but I could ill afford anyone else. But now, the entire Elsiran treasury will be at our disposal.”

  Tai’s skin crawled at Nirall’s smug tone. He strained to hear more and made out a soft shuffling sound.

  “She’s fine, she’s fine. No need to hover. It’s just a simple anesthetic. She’ll wake in an hour no worse for wear.”

  “What did you use on her? Another gift from the Physicks?” Though Lizvette’s tone was conversational, Tai didn’t miss the tightness she was trying to hide.

  “No, this is very nonmagical. A simple spray, easily obtained.”

  “And how do you and I get her out of here past hundreds of people?”

  Tai looked behind him to see if Zivel’s men had arrived. But when Lizvette gasped, he slid forward, ready to throw open the door. He withdrew the knife he kept sheathed at his back, holding it at the ready.

  “What is that?” Lizvette asked.

  “I don’t know its name, but Hewett Ladell assured me it would serve my purposes nicely.”

  “For what?”

  “Patience, child.”

  Lizvette stayed quiet for a moment while a series of clicks sounded. Tai frowned. What was Nirall doing? He wished he could see inside the room.

  “Is Hewett Ladell a Physick?” Lizvette prodded.

  “No. But he deals with a rogue Physick mercenary called Absalom who can get his hands on just about anything for a price. I’ve never met the man myself, but I’ve seen his products and they’ve always been reliable.”

  Tai tightened his grip on his blade. Absalom was the same Physick they’d faced at the Dominionist meeting who had injured Darvyn. Tai would love a chance to get back at him.

  “Ladell did warn me that amalgamations apparently don’t work on Raunians. Absalom mentioned it the last time they met for some reason.” Nirall’s voice was light, but Tai hung on every word. He was immune from amalgam magic?

  “Whatever happened to that barbarian you were with when you arrived, anyway?” Nirall asked.

  “I-I’m not quite sure. I expect he went off to loot something or other.” Tai grinned at her words. He was glad he’d maintained the disguise covering his hair and tattoos. If Nirall had people watching them, they wouldn’t have marked him as a foreigner. “I wonder why the magic wouldn’t work on Raunians, though.”

  Nirall sighed. “The Physick told Ladell some foolishness about magical fish canceling out the enchantment.”

  Magical fish? Could he mean the selakki? His people used virtually every part of the enormous sea creatures in some way. The deck of the Hekili was covered in selakki skin, as it absorbed the sun’s energy to power the engine, and its bones were used for the frames of ships in general. Aside from the legends, they weren’t known to have any magic.

  But an immunity to amalgam magic would explain why he’d been able to remove Lizvette’s necklace and hadn’t been affected when Darvyn had been injured by the Physick weapon. He wondered idly if the Goddess Awoken had known. Was that why She’d really included him on this mission? She had said it would be helpful to have a Raunian along. He filed the question away for later.

  Lizvette seemed to be stalling for time, which he was glad for as backup had still not arrived. Tai had no problem taking on an old man alone, but the Elsirans wanted to arrest Nirall, not kill him. If the man did anything to harm Lizvette, Tai couldn’t promise to leave him in any state to face a trial. Where was Zivel?

  Lizvette spoke up again. “What does it do? And how did you afford it? I thought—”

  “Shut up! I can barely think with you nattering on.” Nirall exhaled testily.

  Tai’s patience reached its end. He crept forward to peek through the crack in the door. It was a small closet, no more than eight paces across, lined with crates and shelves. A globe of blue light illuminated the space. Perhaps an amalgam of some sort. Lizvette stood on one side, her back against a metal shelf with Vanesse unconscious at her feet. Nirall stood closer to the door.

  When Tai caught sight of the device Nirall clutched, his breath left him. Innocuous looking, it could be mistaken for a pocket watch. In fact, the last time Tai had seen such a thing, that’s exactly what he’d thought it was—a broken one at least. Its open, gold-plated face was a mass of winding gears. It clicked softly, and Tai’s panic mushroomed.

  If this did what he thought it did, when the clicking stopped, it would trigger an explosion and bring the room down around them. The Physick who’d boarded his ship searching for Dansig ol-Sarifor and the death stone had carried such an amalgam. It must be a magical transporter. Roshon had said that when the Physicks had taken them, he’d felt the heat of the explosion, but it never touched them as they were already away, somehow being taken across thousands of kilometers to Yaly.

  Tai’s gaze shot to Lizvette, who saw him. Her only reaction was a shimmer of relief in her eyes. Nirall stood between them, reaching for his daughter. Tai jerked the door open and jumped forward, tackling the man before he could touch her. They toppled into the side of a metal shelf, dislodging several small wooden crates, which crashed onto Tai’s back.

  He ignored the pain. The clicking of the watch had grown louder. “Run!” he screamed at Lizvette, but he didn’t dare look up to see if she’d complied.

  Nirall’s hand, bearing the device, was lodged between the two men’s bodies. The clicking stopped, and Tai squeezed his eyes shut and hunched down. Hopefully he could absorb much of the blast and save Lizvette and Vanesse.

  Acrid smoke filled his nostrils. He waited, but no explosion came.

  Unless it had already happened and he was dead.

  Someone was calling his name, and a firm grip held his shoulders. The hands pulled him aside, revealing Nirall beneath him, whimpering like a child.

  Tai looked up into the face of Jord Zivel, which was immediately replaced by that of Lizvette. Her eyes were wet and astonished. He looked down to the front of his shirt and found it merely singed. Patting his chest and abdomen to be sure he was whole, he smiled nervously.

  “Must have been a dud?” he whispered. Or his immunity to the magic made it one.

  Lizvette crouched before him, pulling his hands into her own, but whatever she was going to say was lost by the shouting from Nirall.

  “Unhand me! Who do you think you are?” he spat as Kendos and another man slapped handcuffs on his wrists. Disheveled appearance notwithstanding, Nirall knew how to turn on his aristocratic manner like a tap.

  Zivel stepped forward with an official air. “I’m Captain Jord Zivel, Elsiran Foreign Service. Meeqal Nirall, you are under arrest for conspiracy to murder Prince Alariq Alliaseen, for crimes against the Elsiran people, and high treason.”

  Nirall sputtered. His venomous gaze shot to Lizvette. “You would betray me?” His face contorted into a sneer. “My own flesh and blood!”

  “You betrayed me first, Father.”

  “Idiot girl, have you no thought of your homeland? No sense of honor? You’re as useless and stupid as I always thought.”

  Lizvette winced, dropping her head. Tai refused to hear any more. He stood and rounded on Nirall. “You will never speak to her that way
again, or so help me…” The older man shrank back into Kendos, who held his arm.

  Lizvette reached for Tai. He dragged her to his side, crushing her against his body. His breathing was shallow as a haze of rage clouded his vision. “Your daughter is one of the most intelligent, cunning, and capable women I’ve ever encountered. It’s a miracle that she even shares any of your blood. I don’t know what manner of idiocy you’re afflicted with, but if you cannot see what an amazing creature she is, then I don’t know how you’ve managed this far in the world.”

  Nirall’s jaw hung open, but Lizvette’s arm squeezed tighter around Tai’s waist.

  Zivel and Kendos jostled Nirall forward, pulling him from the storage closet into the main exhibit hall. Another man carried Vanesse’s limp form.

  “Wait,” Lizvette said as the agents dragged Nirall toward the door. She pulled away from Tai and stepped up to her father warily. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug he could not return.

  Tai moved closer to hear the words she whispered in her father’s ear.

  “When you’re in your cell, think of me, the daughter who was good for nothing except marrying a prince and bearing an heir. Nothing more than another piece on the board to manipulate. Then remember why you are in prison in the first place. For the rest of your short life, I will love you as my father and hate you as the man who tried to destroy me and our country.”

  The look on Nirall’s face was nothing short of murderous. The agents hustled him away, followed by the man bearing the unconscious Vanesse. Tai and Lizvette stood alone in the darkened exhibit.

  “Lizvette?” He reached for her, but she shrank away.

  “Please don’t.” She blinked rapidly, as if holding back tears.

  Pain speared him at the rejection, and he stared at her as she slowly brought herself back under control. Her head lifted, her shoulders straightened, and her breathing deepened. Was she retreating? He desperately didn’t want that to happen, but what could he do?

  The mission was over. Very soon they would part. Perhaps she was girding herself for that now. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to let her go.