Mask of Shadows

by Linsey Miller

  Maud finished and fanned my face. “If you wanted to be really fashionable, I could draw the runes like Our Queen’s. They look nothing like the real thing, but everyone’s doing it.”

  “No.” I shuddered. Words and cosmetics were one thing, but runes were a world I wanted no part of. Magic had no place on my skin, even if it was gone. “No runes.”

  “No runes.” She carefully pulled my mask over my hair and face. “Aren’t you glad you trusted me to do my job?”

  “You say that like you’re insulting me.” I wiggled my nose, eyes itching but too afraid of Maud to rub them.

  Maud shrugged. She circled me and pinned each spot that needed it. The shirt was easy, smooth and light against my sore side, and the coat was heavy over my shoulders. Maud didn’t mention the ink on my arms and hands, and I didn’t wash it off. I straightened the long sleeves of the coat, everything coming together. Ink crackled like fire against my skin.

  I was Sallot Leon—one of the last children of Nacea, orphan and street fighter, highway thief and Twenty-Three. I was steps away from being Opal, a figure of power flushing out the Erlend lords. I’d carried the weight of what they’d done for so long, and now I could repay them for the long list of names they’d left me with. I’d take their safety, their homes, their heads. They’d made me an orphan and only child, made my name sound foreign on my own tongue and useless to the ones who’d already forgotten Nacea had lived.

  I would make them remember, and only then would I let them die.

  “How do I look now?” I asked, loose and sure. I’d made mistakes and I wasn’t Opal yet, but Two and Five would not hold me back.

  “Needs more thief-turned-rakish-deadly-lord.” She pulled a wooden sheath inlaid with a spiral of crushed, jagged shells from her pocket and hooked it to my belt. “Didn’t open though, so could be a wooden dagger.”

  I smiled. “Thank you for thinking of it.” Thank you for being patient while I learned to trust you. “Going weaponless would not have been great.”

  “Nails!” Maud clapped and dropped to her bag, digging to the bottom. She shoved a small pot into my hands. “Hold this.”

  I unscrewed the lid. “Rakish-deadly lord, not fancy courtier.”

  “You can be both.” She straightened up, a tiny brush in hand. “Nearly everyone does it. It’s a miracle anyone’s got nails left after all of them trying to copy Emerald.” She snatched the pot back and started painting my nails with a smoky orange oil. “Dimas does it all the time, and it looks lovely on him. You’ve got the same long fingers.”

  “How much time you spend looking at his hands?”

  She lightly pinched my wrist. “Hold still and let it dry. I’ll cut the tips from your extra gloves.”

  I rolled onto my heels, getting used to the feeling of the clothes and going over how to properly eat with nobles in my head. Maud helped me pull the gloves over my fingers.

  “But really,” I said softly, “how do I look?”

  “Good.” Maud circled me, lips set in a serious line, and smoothed out the bottom hem of the coat so it flared behind me in a wake of gold and white. “You look like Opal.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Maud led me to dinner. The scars I’d gained from years of running and fighting were bare under the wide collar of the shirt, and the sheath jostled softly against my thigh, a familiar weight in the middle of everything else. My real knives were tucked into my boots. I looked nothing like the Sal who’d showed up at auditions. Let them see me as more than that.

  “You’re serving yourself like a casual meal, and the Left Hand has Dimas in charge of the room—no servants until you all leave,” Maud said. “It’ll just be you six.”

  “Thank you.” I glanced once more at her, swallowing the fluttering in my throat. “I look all right?”

  “You won’t if you ask me that again.” She smiled. “I was joking about the scars, but you’re pulling them off. Now stop. It’s my job to make you look good, and it’s insulting that you think I failed.”

  I snorted. “See you after.”

  The dining hall door creaked open. I took a breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine, and took one step over the threshold.

  Shit.

  I was supposed to wait for them to invite me into the room. I bowed anyway, feet apart and arms at my side. A splash of red light sparkled across my feet.

  “Good evening,” Ruby said. “Six out of ten—sloppy bow.”

  I gritted my teeth and stood. Of course he was grading us still. My footsteps echoed over the stone floors, and Ruby gestured to the two empty chairs at the table. I sat across from Amethyst.

  “And Twenty-Three.” Emerald raised her glass to me, the delicate glass stem green as the silk dress draped around her. She wore a crown of purple oleander. “Welcome.”

  I bowed my head to her. The tables had been rearranged, pushed together to form one long table with three chairs on each side. I was facing Amethyst, and Two was one seat over. I’d be next to Five.

  Dammit.

  “Abel, a drink.” Amethyst, radiant in a midnight-blue gown with a copper-ribbed corset, beckoned her servant, and he poured me a glass of watered-down wine. The taunt lines of Amethyst’s bare muscles were beauty alone.

  I grinned. “Thank you.”

  “We’re only waiting on Five.” Ruby leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, the very image of bored relaxation. “We’ll begin when he arrives.”

  A power play. From Five. How unexpected. I’d be unsurprised if he didn’t march in here and salute.

  Two shifted. Her perfectly tailored, fiery outfit showed off the lean strength in her body from feet to fingertips. The leather vest was old, well worn, and dyed red with flames devouring the arrows burned into the sides. A patchwork of red and orange silk twisted like flames covered her arms.

  Before Our Queen devoured the magic in the land, the Carnival of Cheats appeared from the void wreathed in fire and was full of people boasting feats of marksmanship, strength, and bravery without magic—the only rune writers were for show. Two had no magic inked into her skin.

  These days, they appeared overnight instead of by magic. I’d seen them once, from afar. An acrobat had walked a high wire strung between two buildings during market day in Kursk, and she’d juggled swords over gawkers’ heads without missing a beat. Two would be as in control of her body as that acrobat had been.

  “You didn’t have to dress up to impress us.” Emerald leaned forward, chin balanced on her fingers. She said it in a way that made it clear we should’ve dressed up and hadn’t yet passed her inspection. Her wineglass was empty, but I hadn’t caught her drinking. “Don’t worry—we’ve been watching and already have our opinions about you.”

  “Though your origins and senses of fashion are interesting.” Ruby raised his now-full wineglass.

  Their sleight of hand was impressive.

  “Mostly,” said Amethyst. “White’s an optimistic choice.”

  “I’m am optimistic person.” They kept talking like they knew everything about us. Should I play all my cards or only part of them? They’d people like Nicolas del Contes spying on us. Couldn’t hurt to let them know I was returning the favor. “Two and Five were dressed so nice, I didn’t want to be left out.”

  Two’s head cocked toward me. So she hadn’t been spying on us like I’d been on her.

  Amethyst nodded. We were sharing half our hands then. If only I could see their faces.

  “I’ve always wanted to see the Carnival of Cheats again.” Ruby leaned toward Two, voice low and measured. “But three members down must have left them scrambling for new acts. Well, at least they knew you were leaving soon.”

  Two stiffened. “We had apprentices ready to step into our roles. We won’t be missed.”

  “You must be looking forward to court, Twenty-Three.” Emerald raised her glass to me. “You’ve robbed half of them and all their merchants and business partners.”

  “Only have to learn the
ir names now.” I didn’t drink the wine. No accounting for what they’d do since I missed the second-round test.

  The door opened and Five’s heels clicked behind me. Whenever he stopped to bow, he snapped his boots together. Light from the pins on his chest flickered around the wall opposite of me. He’d commanded people before, and now he was auditioning to kill them.

  “And Five makes three.” Ruby waved to the chair across from him and next to me. “We were discussing fashion and murder. Join in.”

  Five sat stiff and rigid. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee, wearing thick woolen pants made for far colder lands, and took up all my space. I stretched my legs out till our knees touched. He jerked away.

  Typical.

  “It’s rare that officers respond to our invitations.” Amethyst nodded to Five, dress slipping off her shoulder to reveal a deep scar gouged over her heart. She had to have been a soldier. They’d scars like that to spare. “Their training is typically antithetical to ours.”

  I’d never wondered what officers were taught. If he was really Fernando de Lukan and Dimas knew it, Nicolas del Contes definitely knew. Why’d they invite him?

  “I thought my talents were better suited elsewhere.” Five’s voice was rough tonight. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his gaze focused solely on Ruby. “And your invitation suggested the same.”

  “I doubt the invitation suggested much,” said Ruby. “We were mostly impressed with your ability to stay alive. It’s rare anyone survives an attack from Lord del Weylin. Not even our dear departed Opal did. The rest of your history was less than satisfactory.”

  Five stiffened.

  Weylin—he was surely one of my secret names. He would never have stationed soldiers in Nacea—too far, too foreign, and too odd—but he’d have supported a withdrawal of troops to save Erlend lives. He hated anything farther south than his borders.

  His lands were a maze of icy mountain passes and avalanche traps. He was the last major holdout against Igna and Our Queen, and attacking him was impossible. Our Queen could only keep the border well guarded with soldiers and wait for news. No idea how he kept his army and lands supplied, but he did it.

  Drafted everyone he could probably, whether they wanted to fight or not, and kept the rest indentured.

  I’d have to ask Maud and Elise for any palace rumors.

  “I do wonder,” Ruby said as he leaned across the table, elbows on the top and chin on his hands, “did you meet Lord del Weylin?”

  Five shook his head.

  Ruby dropped a metal pin on the table. Five’s hand flew to his chest pocket, fumbling down the front.

  “Pity,” Ruby said. “You should’ve told him your real name, Lord Fernando de Lex. He probably would have seen you then.”

  I gripped the table edge. Emerald tapped her glass, empty face fixed on me. Five wasn’t just a noble and an officer—he was the youngest son of one of Erlend’s oldest families. A family nipped at the bud during the war. His oldest brother had been the head mage of Erlend and the first Rodolfo da Abreu had killed. Rodolfo had taken the mages’ hands, stripping the runed skin from its bones to make sure no one would ever hold the secrets to shadow creation again. A necessary violence.

  A bloody, painful violence that Fernando de Lex no doubt remembered.

  I glanced at Five, a writhing mix of rage and recognition shaking down my arms. He’d have been six when his brother was slaughtered—old enough to remember and about the same age I’d been when his brother’s shadows had flayed Nacea. His parents had died in the war, and he’d vanished. We were both the last of our names.

  But my fallen family hadn’t ever murdered children.

  Fernando de Lukan. The officer who’d killed his valet, survived an attack from Weylin, and ended up invited here under that false identity.

  Had he rebuilt himself or returned for darker purposes?

  “Do you have a problem with me?” Five shifted in his chair, shoulders back and chin up. “With my old name?”

  “That’s your question?” Ruby huffed. “Not how I know your real name?”

  “At least one of you met my brother,” Five said. “We looked very much alike.”

  The Left Hand exchanged a series of shoulder-shrugged looks. Emerald plucked his name tag from the table. It was almost sad. His brother was taken by forbidden magic and revenge, and all he had left were pieces. If the rumors were true though, he’d been killing long before he got here, and his brother had created the shadows.

  Even if Five were executing some half-thought-out scheme of vengeance, he wasn’t avenging someone worth it.

  And it wasn’t like he could take revenge on a dead man.

  “I was mostly interested in how you were the only survivor. Your escape from Weylin’s lands is unprecedented.” Emerald gestured toward the door. “But let’s eat.”

  The color-collared servants slid into the room, arms weighed down with trays—tureens full of steaming black bean stew with balls of cornmeal speckled with green chilies bobbing between mutton slices; peppery shrimp and hominy soup with stewed tomatoes; and little bowls of pickled green tomatoes, braised mustard greens, and corn fritters no bigger than my little finger. I folded my hands in my lap.

  Lady, if they’d poisoned this feast, I’d punch them for wasting food.

  “Tuck in.” Emerald brandished her spoon toward the place settings. The meal placed in front of her was identical to Amethyst’s and Ruby’s plates, but their sleight of hand wouldn’t work here. How lonely it was living behind their masks.

  I’d rarely been without one since running with Grell, and now I’d found the one profession where I’d be trapped behind a mask forever.

  “It’s safe,” Amethyst said. “Dinner isn’t the test.”

  I grabbed a bit of everything but the chili-braised chicken feet.

  At least the bones in Five’s room were sentimental, but I couldn’t shake them from my head.

  “As of right now, your only goal is to find the name on this paper, kill no one but this person without implicating the Left Hand, and bring Our Queen proof of your kill.” Ruby fanned out three slips of paper like gambling cards and offered them to us. “No harming their guards, no killing civilians, and no letting anyone know you killed your target.”

  It was every single one of our lessons rolled into one.

  Five sipped wine with one hand and grabbed the target Ruby held out to him with the other. Two took hers, glanced at the name, and pocketed it. I pulled the last slip from Ruby’s fingers.

  “Your group has been above average in both mortality and ability during these auditions, and several mass events narrowed the playing field.” Emerald settled back in her chair. “Which leaves us with you three, and considering all your indiscretions, we’re not holding out hope for clean, good kills. But understand this: I don’t care how you do it, but you will not get caught and you will not kill anyone else—not a hair on their heads disturbed—or I will end you.”

  Emerald, as always, managed to terrify and impress me all at once. I wanted to be her, and I never ever wanted to be on her bad side.

  “The names and descriptions on your paper represent three minor people who have either caused unrest, committed violent crimes, or supported the instigators in the north.” Ruby let out a long bored sigh.

  Amethyst continued Ruby’s speech. “They need to be eliminated quietly and quickly. These are not to be public executions. Do not treat them as such. Understood?”

  “Good.” Emerald didn’t wait for us to agree. “Your marks are all in Willowknot for the next three days, and we will take into consideration the speed of your success. If you are caught, you are on your own. If you insinuate that this was part of auditions for the Left Hand, you are on your own and dead. Bring us proof of your kill that won’t arouse suspicion.”

  Five finished eating and glanced at the slip of paper. While sipping tawny wine, he shifted, and I caught sight of an extra knife in his boot. It didn’t change anything
, his true history. Just meant I knew which memories to drag up to hurt him if need be.

  “Any questions?” Amethyst slid from her chair as we stayed silent. “Then you’re dismissed.”

  We all waited till the Left Hand stood—I knew that much at least—and Five left the room with a bow to each of them. Two left with less show.

  She was too quiet. She could kill me and I’d never be the wiser it was her. I needed to finish this perfectly and avoid her and Five at all costs.

  Thirty-Nine

  Maud wiped the cosmetics from my face and folded the nice clothes on my bed, fingers shaking the whole time.

  “How’re you so nervous?” I pried my slip of paper from the coat pocket and shook out my arms. “I’m the one who could die.”

  Maud straightened the collar of my shirt, lips pursed and face carefully blank. She patted my arm. “You die, I don’t get promoted.”

  “Of course.” I swallowed. No point in embarrassing us both with emotions. “I’ll be sure not to die then.”

  “I appreciate it.” Maud grinned—barely—and handed me a cloak.

  “I look boring?” I threw it over my shoulders and fixed my hair, face cold without my mask. I was going into Willowknot, and I’d need to make a friend fast to find my target. “Presentable?”

  “Passable.” The thought of me wandering out into the world looking “passable” washed away whatever she had been feeling, and she raised her hands to my hair. “If you’d let me—”

  “No, passable is what I want.” Meant I was forgettable, and I could live with that. It meant no one would remember another person in the crowd. I pulled off the last bit of gilt that marked me as more than a traveler and handed Elise’s ring to Maud. “I don’t come back, tell Lady de Farone I’m sorry. And I won’t fault you if you try to wrangle a better paying job out of it. Sure she won’t either.”

  Elise’s attendant was probably too busy getting ink and charcoal stains out of her clothes to do anything else.

  Maud tucked the ring into her pocket. “I will. I promise.”