by Jodi Meadows
I rolled my eyes. “Why do you hide your face?”
He went still for a moment, almost a statue’s shadow. “I think the more pressing question is this: why don’t you wear a mask, considering your suspicious proximity to crime?”
I repeated Patrick’s belief: “The best mask is a face no one will remember.”
“Oh,” he said, and looked at me as though I were a mystery. “I don’t see how anyone could forget your face.”
Compliments again. Why couldn’t he just chase me, like normal? Unless—no, he couldn’t know me from the palace. If he recognized me, I wouldn’t still be there. “Are we going to fight?” I asked.
“Do you want to?”
“Not particularly.” But fighting would be a lot more straightforward.
He shrugged. “Then we don’t have to. As you said, standing on a roof isn’t illegal, and I can’t prove you’re responsible for the warehouse robbery.”
“Is that how it works? You prove that the people you capture were breaking the law?”
“Sometimes.”
“What about the rest of the time? What if you caught someone about to break into that warehouse, but they hadn’t actually succeeded yet?”
“I’d bind them and leave them where the city police would find them.”
“With no proof they’d done—or were about to do—anything?” When he didn’t respond, I said, “Who gave you the authority? If you have your heart set on stopping violence and crimes, there are less dramatic ways to do it. Or do you enjoy the reactions to your theatrics?”
“I have my reasons. As I’m sure you have your reasons for fighting and stealing.”
Wind howled through the alley below, bringing only the normal odors of the city: sweat and smoke and waste. The thuds and squeaks and cracks of humanity’s presence softened as Skyvale residents headed to bed.
“I’m not admitting to anything—”
He laughed. Laughed. “No, I don’t imagine you ever would.”
I hefted a dagger in his direction, and he held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Sorry. You were saying?” There was still a hitch of laughter in his voice as he made himself comfortable again.
“If I were going to fight and steal, it’d be because I had no choice. It would be for survival.”
“When does fighting and stealing become more?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Like what? Murder?”
“How interesting that’s where your mind turned.”
“Well, it was recently suggested that my life might be easier if I’d let someone die.” I squeezed my dagger hilt. “But I left one of these in a glowman’s hand to keep that from happening, you see.”
Black Knife shrugged. “I thought that was simply a diversionary tactic, to allow you time to get away.”
“It served two purposes.” I smirked. “But I’m not a murderer, and I wouldn’t just let someone die. Even a menace like you.”
He cocked his head, leaving his hands motionless in his lap. “Do you think others feel the same way? About stealing and whatnot, I mean.”
I hesitated. “Some. Maybe most. There are parts of Skyvale where people feel they cannot afford to be civilized. Desperation makes them dangerous. But I’ve seen others who would fight and steal regardless of their circumstances. Like those glowmen, and the gangs that supply them with chemicals and wraith. They just like the thrill of violence. They like hurting people, even children. They like making things burn.”
“That’s a very bleak outlook.”
“No. It means I know to be careful. You can’t always tell which way someone leans.” I shifted my weight to keep blood flowing through my limbs.
“And you lean toward desperate danger.”
I scoffed, gesturing at his black uniform and the array of weapons. “I suppose you think your reasons for fighting are nobler than mine.”
“I was going to ask about your circumstances. What led you to this life.” He paused. “Hypothetically, that is.”
Not that it was any of his business: “Hypothetically, I fight and steal to help others.”
“The other Ospreys. The children I saw.”
The Ospreys. The victims of the One-Night War. The people still of Aecor. Yes. I leaned toward desperate danger; I would do anything for my people.
In Hawksbill, the clock tower chimed midnight. Starlight, and a sliver of moonlight, set the mirrors aglow, half illuminating the boy across from me. His long, lanky body appeared relaxed, but I’d seen him spring up and fight frighteningly quick before. I could not relax.
“I think I agree with you,” he said at last. “Most people want only to survive. Perhaps, if they were able to afford to be civilized—as you put it—even the gangs and glowmen would be kind and generous and law-abiding.”
The thought made me snort. “That’s an optimistic view.”
“You make optimism sound like an accusation.”
“Maybe you haven’t seen as much of the city as you think.” Hadn’t he heard the glowman the other week? When I’d asked why he attacked my people, he’d simply claimed they looked easy.
Black Knife waited a moment before asking, “What about flashers? Do you think they’re deliberately using their magic to bring the wraith closer? Do you think they like making things burn?”
Every muscle in my body tensed. I wanted to leap to the other roof and strangle him, but that would get me nowhere—except maybe shoved to the street below. I took measured breaths until I could speak calmly.
“I need to go.” My thighs ached as I stood.
In only a heartbeat, Black Knife pushed himself up and crossed the gap. I raised my blades, but he grabbed my forearm and twisted me around, bending my wrist so the dagger fell to the rooftop. With one arm around my waist and his free hand clutching both of my wrists, his breath came in harsh gasps by my ear. “Who are you?”
Trembling with how easily he’d disarmed me, I hissed, “Take off your mask. Then we can discuss identities.”
His breathing grew deeper and even. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Let me go.” Dull pain throbbed through my wrist where he’d bent it.
“Once you tell me what you think about flashers. Do you think they’re just like gangs and glowmen, and eager for the end?” His body was warm against mine, even as the night cooled around us. Gusts of wind brought the scent of an oncoming storm. Veils of clouds blew eastward, shrouding the stars.
“No,” I said. “I think most are desperate. Everyone knows about the wraith, but it’s hard to care about that when your children are starving or cold or sick, or when gangs are demanding tolls for traveling streets you can’t avoid. They have nothing but this one ability, and the people in power forbid it. They’re terrified to use magic, but more afraid not to.”
“Even though it’s destroying our world?”
“Several problems are immediate. One is not.” I shivered. “Everyone knows about you.”
He was quiet.
“You seek flashers. And once you find them, they’re never seen again. What do you do with them?”
“Good night, nameless girl.” Black Knife released me.
I staggered away, scooped up my daggers, and spun. The tip of one blade rested under his chin.
His eyes found mine, and he stilled.
I could turn the dagger blade vertical. Cut a slit in the silk that covered his face. Maybe find out who hid behind that mask.
He’d disarm me as soon as I moved. We’d fight, and I’d have to explain away strange cuts and bruises when I returned to the palace.
“Are we going to fight?” he asked, echoing my earlier question.
My voice grew hoarse. “What happens to the flashers?”
“Good night.” He reached up, as though to shove away my dagger.
“Black Knife.”
He held my gaze and didn’t move. His black-gloved hand hung suspended in the air, just breaths away from my wrist.
I licked my lips. “Are t
hey killed?”
Carefully, gently, Black Knife took my hand and pulled away from the dagger. His tone turned darker. “I will find out.”
Then he stepped off the edge of the roof and vanished into the shadows.
TWELVE
“LAST NIGHT WAS a success,” Melanie said, beckoning me to sit in front of the mirror. As she brushed and braided my hair, she described sneaking into the general’s office and navigating his haphazard organizational system.
“So he’s messy.”
“Say it again. I was embarrassed for him.” Her mirror-self grinned. “But there’s good news. The letter recalling the Aecorian troops will go out this afternoon. I used money from Colin Pierce’s own box to pay the courier.”
“Very nice.”
“While I was snooping around, I found a map of Aecor with Indigo Kingdom troops marked. I took note of the locations and numbers. I haven’t found the list of resistance groups in Aecor, but I did see a few references to it in other notices.”
“But that covers most of the intelligence on the Indigo Army?” Excitement fluttered inside me. We’d been here not even two weeks, but we’d completed nearly half our tasks.
“Almost. Patrick wanted to know what kind of weapons they’re carrying and other details like that.” She finished plaiting my hair into a swirling coronet, leaving just a few tendrils hanging to my shoulders. Every time I turned my head, a thin whiff of rosewater lifted off my hair; it was in the soap. “I’ll keep looking for more information, as well as the list of the resistance groups.”
“Good. I need to do some snooping, too. I saw something interesting at the wraith mitigation meeting that made me curious.”
“Oh? Something interesting like the royal scenery?”
“The royal scenery?” I made a gagging face at her.
“But it would make Quinn so happy if you’d at least write her a letter and describe him. Maybe the bodyguard, too, while you’re at it? I’ll add them to tonight’s report.”
“Shut your mouth! I will not waste precious ink on that bore!”
She laughed. “Does this have anything to do with the long walk you took last night? Maybe you were meeting someone?”
Before I could make up an answer, a footman came to whisk me toward the Dragon Wing, where the king and his immediate family lived.
After traversing a maze of halls, I was deposited in a dining room large enough to seat ten or twelve people. The room was lavishly decorated, with a heavy oak table and matching chairs, and a lace tablecloth that gleamed like silk under the midmorning light falling through the open window. Gold-framed paintings hung on all the walls, portraits of the Pierce family going back several generations. The fashion changes over the centuries might have been interesting to study, but movement caught my eye.
“Lady Julianna.” On the other side of the room, King Terrell stood, one hand bracing him against the table. His arm trembled with the strain, and his breath came in slow, heavy gasps. “I’m glad you decided to visit me this morning.”
As though I’d been given a choice.
“Thank you for inviting me.” It wasn’t hard to play the part of a nervous young noblewoman, unsure of her place in this palace. Not right now. When the king beckoned me forward, I took the offered chair. “Will your wife or son be joining us?” I asked as the footman slid my chair closer to the table.
“Francesca often has breakfast with her ladies, and I’m afraid Tobiah sleeps rather late.”
Of course he did.
King Terrell sat and signaled the servants waiting by another door. “Which is good for us, because I’d like to discuss him.”
That sounded bad. “With me?”
He nodded deeply, then waited as we were served dishes of blueberries and strawberries, with small crystal bowls of cream and sugar. There were peeled orange sections and bananas, and other fruits I couldn’t identify.
“Your greenhouses must be impressive,” I said, “with such a selection.” Did anyone beyond the Hawksbill wall eat so well?
“Thank you.” He dipped a strawberry into his bowl of sugar and seemed to ponder. “The Pierce family has been collecting seeds and plants from traders for generations. Our gardeners are the best on the continent.”
“Indeed?” At last, I knew where his son had inherited his pride.
His mouth pulled into a line. “I suppose there’s not much competition. Not anymore.”
With wraith covering everything in the west, no. There were countries north and south of here, and Aecor, but this sliver of land was all that remained.
I fought a surge of embarrassment at my unkind thoughts. Why should I mind?
“Forgive me,” King Terrell said. “I wanted to speak to you because you know the horrors of the wraithland. Because you know what is at stake.”
I spooned cream over my fruit and stirred, waiting for him to go on. The fruit was sweet and perfectly ripe. I hadn’t tasted anything so delicious since I was a child.
“You requested to join my son’s wraith mitigation committee.”
“I did. He explained the committee’s position on magic and wraith.” But not what happened to the people caught using magic. How strange that I was suddenly relying on Black Knife to help me find the truth. “His Highness believes that ceasing all magic will cause the wraith to dissipate.”
“As I’m sure you were taught in Liadia. It’s the same theory we’ve been using for a hundred years.”
“Of course.”
“In many ways, Tobiah is very like me.” He turned his gaze on the window, its curtains pulled back to reveal a late-flowering garden. Ivy-covered trellises arched in the morning sun, while hedges framed walkways and chrysanthemums and helianthuses. Small bells and chimes tinkled in the breeze. “He is idealistic. He dreams up lofty goals. He wants to make this world better, though he’s only now starting to understand the horrible things that people can do to one another.”
“I thought—” No, maybe I didn’t want to ask about the One-Night War.
But the king waited, his eyes dark and tired. He looked so different from the king in my imagination, the one who’d ordered his army to invade Aecor almost ten years ago. The one who’d allowed my parents to be slaughtered in the courtyard while my people—and I—watched. The one who’d taken the highborn children and had them put away in an orphanage.
His current illness didn’t change his past actions.
Wearing my Julianna persona like armor, I made my voice strong, curious. “He mentioned that something happened to him when he was younger.”
Terrell deflated. Though it was only midmorning, exhaustion dragged at his expression, and his skin was gray and waxen. “This is all tied up together. The wraith, Tobiah’s abduction, the One-Night War.”
My stomach turned and tumbled. I couldn’t eat anymore.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I’m getting ahead of myself. You know of the Wraith Alliance.”
“Of course. That’s why I’m here: nobility from one of the allied countries must give shelter and aid to nobility of a wraith-affected country.”
“So long as they agreed to the terms. Which included, of course, that every participating country would immediately cease the use of magic. The Alliance was created in nine hundred and one by my grandfather, who recognized that action must be taken against the wraith threat.”
Where was he going with this?
“I’m sure you know that not all countries were willing to give up use of magic. One of these was our neighbor to the east, Aecor, and I spent the early part of my reign urging Phillip and Angela to reconsider their predecessors’ decisions.”
My parents’ names stole my ability to speak. I hid my shaking hands in my lap.
“The Kortes and I were friends in our youth, before we understood the scale of the wraith problem, and the animosity between our kingdoms. If we hadn’t all attended a royal wedding in Laurel-by-the-Sea, our northern neighbor, we might never have been so close.” He gave a weak chuckl
e and spoke toward me, rather than to me. As though he were somewhere else. His sickness had addled his brain; it was the only reason he was telling me all of this. “We always said that our children would marry and unite the two kingdoms, and the conflict between our parents would be left in the past. It was only when we inherited our thrones that we grew apart. They refused to consider that they were wrong, that their decisions would lead to the end of our world.”
My face felt numb, as though all the blood were draining from it. He’d been friends with my parents, and then had them killed?
I should have brought a dagger with me.
“Over and over, I tried to make them understand the importance of ceasing magic. I repeatedly sent our latest reports and evidence, and reminded them that the Indigo Kingdom wouldn’t always be between the wraith and Aecor. Just as”—the king focused on me for a moment—“Liadia could not remain between the wraithland and the Indigo Kingdom forever. But they were adamant. They insisted magic wasn’t as harmful as we believed, so they would not sign the treaty.”
My thoughts spun. This was too much. Too much.
“That I could not persuade them will always be one of my greatest regrets.” His chair creaked as he leaned back. “Then, almost ten years ago, Phillip’s men abducted my son.”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.
“It was because of the Wraith Alliance again. I wanted them to sign. Their representatives were unreasonable. They refused to outlaw the practice of magic in Aecor, even though they knew the consequences. When I tried to force them, making sure they knew they were surrounded by allied kingdoms, my son was gone—taken by Phillip’s General Lien. Tobiah was only eight years old.”
I wanted to ask, “Why would General Lien take Tobiah?” and a million other questions, but I couldn’t make the words come. His words paralyzed me.
“I’m not proud of what happened after. The Kingdom of Aecor is gone. Phillip and Angela are gone. Their daughter, Wilhelmina, is gone, in spite of my orders to spare her, along with the other noble children. Their children deserved mercy, and I would have given them a home, but they never made it to Skyvale. I searched for them for months, without success. Princess Wilhelmina was killed in the chaos, and the children were lost. But I got my son back.”