by Claire Luana
Wren was surprised to realize that between the two unpleasant men, she was rooting for Callidus. When had she switched to Callidus’s side, she mused? Somewhere between him rescuing her from execution and showing his humanity over a game of King’s Quarters, he had won her over.
“Artisan Wren has connections in the inspector’s office, and I will inquire with the crown. Rest assured, Grandmaster, all resources will be rallied to locate Mr. Percival.”
“Happy to hear it. Just know, if the job proves too much for you, I’m always here to assist.” Beckett clapped Callidus on the shoulder with more force than was necessary before making his way through the dining room and out the other side.
“I hate that guy,” Hale grumbled.
Callidus was pale, his hands clenched in white-knuckled fury. “You”—he pointed a shaking finger at Hale—“go with her.” The accusing finger swung towards Wren. “Find him.”
Wren rubbed the crusty kohl from beneath her eyes. “Just let me head upstairs and change.”
“You go now,” Callidus said.
“We go now,” Wren said, spinning on her heel and darting from the room, before Callidus could level any more wrath her way.
The city streets were quiet and cool in dawn’s leaden light. Wren and Hale marched side by side in silent contemplation. Wren felt wretched with guilt. They had been careless fools to go dancing last night—to put Thom at risk. She should have known better. As much as she might want to be a simple confectioner without a care in the world, that wasn’t her life. It had never been her life. The last few weeks had been a pleasant dream that she hadn’t wanted to leave, and Thom had paid the price. It was time that she wake up and face reality. She knew in her gut who had taken Thom; there was only one inevitable conclusion. King Imbris. It was a declaration of war against the Guilds. A quiet one, certainly, but a declaration nonetheless.
Hale had tied his hair back up and his rumpled shirt was untucked. Bags under his eyes were no doubt mirrored on her own face.
Wren grimaced, trying to corral her hair and slap some color back into her cheeks.
Hale looked over at her and let out a single tired chuckle. “I’m sure Prince Imbris will understand,” he said.
“Why do you have to say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Prince Imbris,” she said in a mocking tone. “I didn’t even know he was a prince when we met.”
He sighed heavily. “I honestly don’t know. Imbris seems better than most. So long as he treats you well and makes you happy, he has my blessing.”
Wren was taken aback. Hale without his mischievous armor was…almost uncomfortable. Too raw. Too real. She swallowed. “Do you think I will ever be able to tell him about our Gifts?” she asked.
“Just set him up in a room and then we can explain the whole thing while he eavesdrops. Piece of cake.”
Wren looked at Hale crossly as she opened the door to Lucas’s apartment. “You know that would never work. If I knew he was listening, I wouldn’t be able to say a thing. I even tried to write it out once and my hand kept jerking off the page.”
Hale shrugged. “There must be a way. Ask Callidus.”
Wren knocked on Lucas’s door.
“Maybe wait a week or two until Callidus settles down,” Hale said. “We’re not his favorites right now.”
“We?” Wren said. “I did nothing. This is on you.”
There was no answer at the door.
“You were a willing participant, my little chickadee. What do the inspectors say? Accomplice. Accessory to the crime.”
Wren huffed and knocked a third time, louder this time. “He should be home at this hour.”
“Maybe he’s out with another lady,” Hale said.
“I thought you just gave us your blessing,” Wren said, punching Hale in the shoulder with all of her might. He barely moved. He seemed to be deep in contemplation.
She grimaced. “Let’s try the station.”
Wren had only been to the inspector’s station once before, but the idea of it always made her nervous. Somehow, seeing Lucas in this part of his life made her uneasy. She didn’t fit here. But as she and Hale passed through the marble facade and into the inspector’s station, those thoughts fled her mind. Something was very off.
The entryway was filled with men, some pacing across the marble floor, others standing and talking in tight little knots. Only one woman was present, a pear-shaped older woman who had a sort of gravitas that left a little circle of deference around her. Her hair was mostly white, though streaks of gray and black permeated the underside of her tight bun. She was arguing in hushed tones with a tall man, who, sitting on a bench, was nearly as tall as she.
“Who are all these people?”
Hale’s turquoise eyes were wide. “That’s the head of the Baker’s Guild,” he whispered.
“The woman?”
He nodded. “And I recognize that weathered fellow from the Piscator’s.”
Wren followed his eyes to another man who did indeed look like he had spent his life at sea. He was talking to another person she recognized. “That’s Chandler’s man Bastian from the Distiller’s Guild.”
“This is very, very odd,” Hale said.
Wren nodded uneasily. Her stomach was churning. Something was wrong. “Let’s see if we can find Lucas and get some answers.”
They pushed their way through the people towards the door that led to the inspector’s offices.
“Hey!” someone cried. “We’ve been waiting. You can’t just go in ahead of us!”
“We have an appointment,” Hale said, flourishing a bow before backing through the door and into the hall.
Angry cries followed them but were muffled when the door closed. “I don’t like this,” Wren said.
“What’s to like?” Hale remarked blackly.
Lucas’s office was at the end of the hallway, and as they approached, they heard more angry voices.
Wren took a deep breath and peered around the door jamb into the office. Lucas stood behind his desk, his hair mussed, deep shadows under his eyes. He must have been summoned in the middle of a night’s sleep.
Guildmaster Pike, head of the Spicer’s Guild, stood before him in all his glory—glossy, black hair; neat goatee; shrewd, dark eyes. He wore a red brocade jacket and gleaming boots over black trousers. His hand rested casually on the curved sword strapped to his hip.
“Pike?” she said.
“Ah, Wren. And your large angry friend,” Pike replied, inclining his head graciously towards Wren and pursing his lips at Hale. The last time the two men had seen each other, Hale had thought Sable was dying and hadn’t been particularly tactful in his quest for an antidote. “Let me guess. You’re here to report that a member of your Guild has gone missing.”
Wren blinked in surprise. “How did you know?”
Lucas heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Who is it? Not the new fellow? Thom?”
“Thom,” Hale confirmed. “He disappeared early this morning.”
Pike continued, “I knew, Wren darling, because someone has gone missing from every Aperitive Guild last night.”
“Are you serious?” Wren asked, shock washing over her.
“It seems to be true,” Lucas said. “I keep telling Guildmaster Pike that he should take his concerns up with the head inspector, who’s handling the investigation.”
“And I keep telling you, I don’t want to take it up with him.” Pike leaned forwards across the desk, a shadow darkening his face. “Because he’s in the king’s pocket. Just like half this city. You seemed willing to piss off your dear old dad when it came to saving your girlfriend here, so I’m hoping you’ll do it again. Find my guildsman.”
“No one is in the king’s pocket,” Lucas said in exasperation, ignoring the rest of Pike’s twisted compliment. “I know my father isn’t overwhelmed by his popularity, but the suggestion that he kidnapped a bunch of Guild members…it’s insane.”
&n
bsp; “Almost as insane as the king paying someone to poison a guildhead and framing another guildhead and a Guild member? And his little snake Willings being in on it?” Wren asked.
Lucas blanched. “That’s…different. This is…so public. What does he possibly have to gain by kidnapping one Guild member from each Guild?”
“Ask the hooded men who took my apprentice last night,” Pike hissed.
Wren’s ears perked. “You saw them? Was one of them missing a middle finger?”
Pike whirled, skewering her with his penetrating gaze. “How did you know that?”
“He was?” Excitement and anger churned through her. Wren turned to Lucas. “It was the Black Guard, Lucas! The same Black Guard who attacked Thom kidnapped Pike’s man. What will it take for you to admit your father’s behind this?”
Lucas collapsed into his chair, cradling his head in his hands. “I believe you.” His words were muffled. He looked up with such a look of misery that Wren softened. Maybe she had been a little hard on him. “I just don’t understand it. What possible motivation would the king have to do this?”
“How about securing absolute control of the Guilds who control the city’s food supply just days before the Apricans lay siege to this city?” Hale said.
Silence hung over the room. That made sense. Even without knowing about the Accord, and the fact that the king wanted control of all infused products for use in the war effort…of course he would want to control the food supply.
“He could tell the city that he’s looking out for everyone’s best interest,” Pike said. “Saving them from the greedy opportunistic Guilds who would raise prices when people need supplies most. Ensuring that they have food in their bellies until he can defeat King Evander.”
“You saw this man attack your member?”
“Yes,” Pike said. “From an upper window. Donovan was in the courtyard. Four men came at him. He fought like a lion, but they were well trained. He wounded one. I saw the blood. By the time I got down there…they were gone.”
Poor Thom. If he was attacked by a similar set of men…he must have been terrified. And where was he now? Was he being mistreated? Tortured?
“So, it’s worse than I feared,” said Lucas with a sigh. “My father has well and truly lost his mind. He kidnapped your Guild members.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Pike asked Lucas, who looked as if a wave of weariness had overtaken him. Wren wanted to go to him and wrap him in her arms but didn’t dare in front of Pike or Hale.
“We’re going to find them,” Lucas said. “Obviously.”
“Is there anywhere you can think of that your father might be keeping…guests?” Hale asked.
“There’s the dark hostage dungeon,” Lucas joked dryly. “No, I can’t think of anywhere the king might be holding ten innocent Guild members against their wills.”
“The crown has properties scattered throughout the city and Alesia,” Pike said. “They could be anywhere.”
“Would he risk taking them out of the city?” Wren mused. “With the Apricans approaching?”
“Wren’s right,” Hale said. “He wouldn’t risk the hostages getting cut off if the Apricans lay siege. They’ll be somewhere in the city.”
“So we only have a haystack to search, instead of a hayfield,” Pike remarked.
A bell began ringing in the distance, muffling whatever Lucas was about to say.
“What’s that?” Wren asked.
Lucas was on his feet in a flash, exhaustion replaced by deadly seriousness. “That’s the alarm bell Steward Willings set up after the night of the wedding. The Apricans are attacking.”
Chapter 14
The ringing of the bell jangled Hale’s nerves as inspectors and guardsmen poured out of the offices lining the hallway, buckling sword belts and shrugging on coats. Hale and Wren joined the tide of bodies, pounding their way down the stairs and out into the cool morning.
“Where is it?” Wren grabbed Lucas’s arm before he was gone.
Hale’s mind whirred as he tried to anticipate where King Evander’s legion might be attacking. One of the gates perhaps. To test the strength of Maradis’s defenses?
“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “Get back to the Guildhall. You’ll be safe there. I hope.”
Wren squeezed his arm and stood on her tiptoes, giving Lucas a kiss. “Be safe.”
He nodded and jogged after the other men.
“Awr,” Hale said, but the jest was halfhearted.
“Shut up.” Wren’s reply lacked her usual spirit as well.
“Back to the Guild?” Hale asked.
She nodded grimly.
The bells continued to ring as they made their way through the city streets back to the Guild Quarter. They saw no sign of Apricans; most citizens seemed as confused as they were about where the attack was coming from.
As they turned onto the wide avenue leading up to the Tradehouse and Guildhalls, Hale spotted a plume of smoke rising in the west.
“Look.” He pointed.
“The harbor,” Wren said.
Something unspoken passed between them and they both broke into a run, leaping up the steps of the Guildhall. Would the Apricans make it into the harbor, onto the docks? If so, how many men did they have? How much time before they’d make it this far?
Hale didn’t know where they would go, what they would do, if the soldiers made it this far. His only thought was to get to Sable, to be together to face whatever came.
“Where’s Grandmaster Sable?” Hale asked the guard at the door as they skidded to a stop.
“The roof, I believe,” the guard said.
Hale and Wren took the stairs two by two, ducking through the narrow little door onto the sun-soaked roof. Callidus and Sable stood near the western edge, silhouetted against the smoke billowing into the sky.
Hale and Wren approached on either side, their lungs heaving from the run. In the distance, a fierce battle raged, turning the blue-gray waters of Maradis Harbor into an inferno. Long, sleek Aprican ships in lacquered black darted about the larger Alesian navy, taking cannon shots and then backing away. They seemed to be nimble and swift, whereas the larger Alesian galleons struggled to turn in the tight confines of the harbor. One ship that bore Alesia’s emerald green flag was already on fire.
“What did you learn?” Callidus asked without looking away from the scene.
“It was the king,” Wren said, clutching at her blouse as if she could hold her heart inside her chest.
Sable’s head swiveled towards Wren at that. “What?”
“He has taken one Guild member from each Guild. I’m guessing each of them is Gifted. As…assurance that we cooperate with him during the siege. I’m sure his list of demands will follow this morning,” Hale said. So much was in motion. The king declaring war on the Guilds. The Apricans snapping at their heels. And all Hale could think about was how lovely Sable looked with her ebony hair dancing in the morning breeze. Gods help him.
“He goes too far.” Callidus’s voice was low—even. A deadly dangerous tone Hale had not heard from Callidus before.
Hale felt a bloom of grudging respect grow within him.
Callidus continued. “We are free men. And women. We choose our own destinies. He will not get away with this.”
“Tell that to the Magnish,” Sable muttered.
Callidus stared unblinkingly as another Alesian ship caught fire.
“How will we get Thom back?” Sable asked, turning to Callidus. “What do you think is the best course of action? We can’t refuse the king to his face. He could hurt Thom.” It was strange hearing Sable asking questions instead of taking charge, but Hale recognized what she was doing. Trying to respect her role as Callidus’s second. Prod his decision, his leadership. But it seemed to have the opposite effect.
“I…I don’t know,” Callidus admitted. “I keep wondering what Kasper would have done were he in my shoes.”
“Kasper would have gotten himself killed,”
Hale muttered.
Sable nodded her agreement. “Hale’s right. Kasper was a dreamer, an idealist. This world chews up idealists and spits them out. We have to be shrewder than Kasper was. We have to outsmart the king.”
“And how do we do that?” Callidus’s tone was bitter.
Wren chimed in. “We find Thom. Remove his leverage. Play along with the king just enough to keep Thom safe. Send him infused goods for the war. Say we’re considering. Stall. All the while we find Thom. Find all the Guild members.”
“You’re dating an inspector and so you fancy yourself a great detective?” Callidus leveled his dark gaze at her.
“We outsmarted him once, didn’t we? I’m still here. We can do it again. Besides, do you have a better idea?” Wren challenged.
Callidus looked away, and Hale schooled his face to stay neutral. These past few days, it was as if fire burned in Wren that he hadn’t seen before. As if the king had pushed her one too many times, and now she was determined to push back. It was a good development. They would need that fire before this was done.
Wren softened. “It’s no shame to let us help you. You don’t have to bear all these burdens alone. We’re…” She looked at Sable, then Hale.
He nodded encouragingly. “We’re family.”
Callidus pressed his lips in a thin line. When he spoke his words were thick. “I can’t help feeling like I’m failing Thom. I offered to protect him, to be his sponsor, and he’s out there alone. He could be hurt. And I can’t do a damn thing.”
“You can, and you will,” Sable said. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
Callidus looked at each of them in turn. His thin shoulders seemed to straighten. “Very well,” he said softly. “Where do we start?”
“The Imbris clan,” Wren said. “Lucas’s younger brother is missing too. He’s a member of the Vintner’s Guild. I think he was the first to go missing. Chandler told me that Guildmaster Alban was acting strange at the last accord meeting.”
“You talked to Chandler about this?” Callidus said.
“You wouldn’t tell me anything!” Wren protested. “We need to share resources. We can trust Chandler, we can trust McArt and Bruxius, we can trust Pike.”