Mourningbird (Empire of Masks Book 3)

by Brock Deskins

  Everyone in the bar knew that the people meant their people, the Thuum. They did not care much what the rest of the city did to each other, but they had no tolerance for anyone committing wrongs against their fellow Thuum. It was rare that anyone foolish enough to commit a crime in the district and who managed to get themselves caught ever saw the inside of a gendarme jail cell or courthouse.

  The people around her relaxed and parted so that the civil patrol could pass. Kiera cast a look at Kaleb, but he stood still with a look of dismay and suspicion on his face. She was an outsider, and she would find no allies here.

  Kiera stayed silent until the men shoved her into a waiting carriage and climbed in after her. “What do you think you’re doing with me? I demand you let me go at once!”

  The man who had spoken to Kaleb narrowed his eyes and stabbed a finger at her. “You’ll shut your highborn mouth and speak only when asked a question. Until then, I suggest you stay quiet. Got it?”

  “Are you asking me a question, or was it retardical?”

  “I think you mean rhetorical.”

  “Whatever!”

  The man leaned back and smiled. “Something tells me you’re not as highborn as your mask implies. You do know the penalty for wearing a counterfeit mask, don’t you? Maybe I’d be doing you a favor by ripping it off your face.”

  “It’s not counterfeit, and I’ll assume anyone who forces me to remove it is challenging me to a duel. Are you?”

  The man’s smile fled and his face flushed. “Do you think I’m afraid or unwilling to fight a little girl with a smart mouth?”

  “Is that rhetorical? If not, we can pull over right here and have it out.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You are not going to beat me in a fight.”

  Kiera shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Even if I don’t kill you, I guarantee that Bertram Velarius will.”

  That declaration broke through the man’s confident façade. “What are you talking about?”

  Kiera adopted her haughtiest tone. “My name is Felicity Aylmer, niece to Conner Rey, former chief inquisitor and good friend of Bertram Velarius, current chief inquisitor and your future ruler. The two are practically brothers.”

  “The Velarius’ ain’t my rulers. Never were, never will be.”

  “You live in their city by their good graces no matter what you think about Little Thuum’s autonomy.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I think you’re lying.”

  “Put your filthy hands on me again and find out.”

  Her captor glared at her, but she could tell she had shaken his resolve. He might not let her go on her word, but Kiera was confident she had purchased a modicum of deferential treatment. Neither of them issued further challenges nor even spoke until they arrived at a building next to the embassy she had recently burglarized. They locked her in an office without a window instead of a jail cell, indicating that they were not willing to call her bluff despite their contentious words.

  It felt like an eternity, at least an hour, before the door opened. Kiera stood and faced the door and found herself staring at Bertram wearing his dress uniform and mask. Despite the solidly opaque veneer, she was certain she could see his condescending smile. She certainly felt it.

  “I would not have pegged you for a sleepwalker.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kiera asked.

  “The last we spoke, right after you said some unflattering things about my face, you said you were going to bed. Seeing you here, I assume you must be sleepwalking…and dressing and dancing.”

  Kiera glared behind her mask. “I snuck out! I’m sixteen…ish. Is that so hard for you people to comprehend? Is that so unusual, even for highborn girls?”

  The man who had taken her in stood behind Bertram and asked, “I take it you know her, sah?”

  “I’m not sure.” He lifted his mask and let it rest atop his head. “How does my face look now?”

  “Like someone shaved a rammox’s ass, only more smug!”

  Bertram turned to the Thuumian, who was trying to stifle a grin. “Never seen her before in my life.”

  “All right!” Kiera relented. “I’m sorry I made fun of your stupid face! Can we go now?”

  Bertram sighed. “I think that’s as good an apology as I am going to get. I’ll be taking her with me.”

  “Sah Bertram, she is suspected of breaking into the embassy and Sah Farelle’s room, as well as assaulting one of the house guards.”

  “You’re sure it was her? I find that hard to believe.”

  “The intruder wore a mask and was slight of build.”

  “Was the intruder wearing that mask?” Bertram asked, pointing at Kiera.

  “I can’t say for certain. It was dark.”

  “It was dark. You cannot accurately describe the mask, nor I wager the intruder’s gender or other identifying features.”

  “Sah, we chased her to a tavern. She was the only one in the establishment wearing a mask.”

  “No, you chased the intruder into a tavern and arrested the first person with a mask you found. Don’t you think that your intruder would have simply cast away the mask to better blend in? Speaking of blending in, Felicity’s clothes aren’t exactly designed for skullduggery. She stands out like a mage glass lamp.”

  The man let out a long breath and looked at his feet. “I have to do my job and at least question her.”

  “I know how you Thuum question people, especially after they apparently get beat up by a little girl, and it isn’t going to happen. Where is Sah Farelle?”

  “Out for the evening, sah.”

  “Report to him at his earliest convenience and tell him I have taken charge of your prisoner. If he insists upon questioning her or me, we can all have a pleasant conversation at the gendarmerie, or at the palace if he prefers, but Felicity is leaving with me right now.”

  Kiera was certain a fight was about to break out, and by the way Bertram dropped his hands to his pistol butt and sword hilt, so did he. The man appeared to give his options some thought before nodding once and standing aside.

  Bertram extended his hand to Kiera. “Come, Felicity, let’s get you back home to your uncle before he finds you gone and worries.”

  Kiera took his hand and let him lead her outside. At least a dozen gendarmes stood at the ready around a carriage and two transport wagons. They seemed to relax a bit when Bertram and Kiera appeared. It looked as though she and Bertram were not the only ones concerned about a fight breaking out.

  Bertram helped Kiera into the carriage and gave the driver orders to take them to Conner’s home. The gendarmes piled into the transport wagons and followed behind, not relaxing their vigil until they left Little Thuum.

  “What were you doing out so late?” Bertram asked as they rolled through the city.

  “I was dancing with a cute boy named Kaleb until the goon squad came and dragged me away.”

  “Sneaking out in the middle of the night was foolish. Coming to Little Thuum was downright stupid. This is a dangerous district.”

  “Despite my mask, I am not a prissy little highborn tart. I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you think you can, but some of the people out on the streets after dark aren’t like the small town troublemakers you might be used to. These people will cut your throat and leave you in the gutter, after doing unspeakable things to you.”

  Kiera bristled. “I’m not afraid!”

  “You should be, now more than ever. There’s someone, or something, out there that is very dangerous, and I have no idea how to find him or whether or not I could kill him if I did. Stay home, or at least have Conner or Mr. Cleary take you out to go dancing.”

  Kiera pressed her lips together and stared out of the carriage window. It was all a cover, but Bertram’s parental tone grated on her nerves, and she did not want to break her role by losing her temper.

  She leaned out and saw the bright lights outside of Conner’s pleasure house ahead. “Can you let me out at the end o
f the street? I’d rather not be seen with you.”

  Bertram quirked a wry grin. “There’s not a woman in all of Velaroth that wouldn’t want to be seen with me.”

  “You think way too much of yourself, because there’s one sitting right across from you.”

  Bertram laughed and shouted out of the window on his side of the carriage, ordering the driver to park at the end of the street. Kiera jumped out before the coach came to a complete stop.

  “If you’re having trouble finding the words, I believe thank you is what you’re looking for,” Bertram called out at her back.

  Kiera flashed a rude gesture over her shoulder, eliciting more laughter from her savior. Bertram watched her until she disappeared into the house, and ordered his driver to take him home. He thought about the gesture Felicity had made and how he was sure he had seen that particularly crude and descriptive sign before. He shook his head, dismissing the notion as ridiculous.

  Kiera stormed into the house and found Cleary and Conner waiting for her. Their expressions turned grim as they took in her appearance.

  “You had to change,” Conner said as Kiera flopped down into a chair. “I take it there were complications?”

  “I had to wallop one of the house guards, and someone found him before I got out. They chased me across the city and caught me in a tavern, but I had changed into this—” she waved her hands over her clothes “—and was able to convince them that I was a friend of the chief inquisitor.”

  “They let you go?”

  “Sort of,” Kiera replied, sinking a bit into the chair. “Bertram had to come get me out.”

  Conner’s mouth tightened into a line. “How did that go?”

  “I’m here and not sitting in a cell, so what do you think?” She relented under her patron’s glare. “I told him I snuck out to go dancing.”

  “He believed you?”

  “I think so.”

  “You did good,” Cleary said.

  “I would hardly call getting chased out of the embassy and being caught good,” Conner said. “Did you get anything?”

  “I found some papers hidden in a secret compartment of Farelle’s desk. I didn’t get a chance to read them, but if he tried that hard to hide them, they must be important. I hid them, my mask, and my gun behind one of the tavern’s stills in the basement.”

  “Depending on what’s in those papers, maybe tonight isn’t a total disaster.”

  “Hey, I found a secret Farelle is clearly trying to keep, and I made it back in one piece with my identity intact. I think that’s pretty damn successful!”

  “You can tell Mr. Cleary where you left them, and he can go get them. It’s too risky to send you back there. Can you do this, Mr. Cleary?”

  Cleary nodded. Conner stood and left the room.

  Kiera looked at Cleary. “I did the damn job.”

  “You did good, kid. Next time, you’ll do even better. Conner just gets too emotionally involved in this stuff. Don’t take it personal.”

  “Screw him. I did my job. I don’t give a damn what he thinks.”

  Kiera stormed up the stairs. By the time she reached the top, she had almost convinced herself of her words.

  CHAPTER 19

  Fred’s head jerked toward the sound of someone knocking on the door. “What?” he snapped.

  The door opened, and three of his men shoved a bloody, beaten young man ahead of them. “We caught this one watching the house,” one of them said.

  Fred cocked his head and looked the boy up and down. “You’re one of Rafferty’s, aren’t you?”

  Top Hat took a step forward and cupped the young man’s puffy and bruised face in his hand. “He is Rafferty’s protégé. Langdon I believe is his name. He was with Kiera, spreading those slanderous accusations alongside her the other morning.”

  Langdon glared at the two men through swollen eyes. “It’s not slander when it’s true.”

  Top Hat jerked his hand away but not before Langdon’s words spattered them with spots of blood. “Truth is so very subjective. However, the truth of you being in a great deal of trouble is not open to interpretation.”

  “What are you doing watching my house, boy? You’re outside your territory,” Fred said.

  “Rafferty is Nimat’s eyes on the surface. His territory is whatever she chooses it to be.”

  One of Fred’s minions handed him Langdon’s daggerwing bracer. “He had this on him. Killed two of our men with it before we brought him down.”

  Fred studied the item in his hands before passing it to Top Hat. “What do you make of this, Mr. Ridley?”

  “The materials are a bit crude, but the design and techno-scribings are excellent, if I’m any sort of judge of such things. There is a certain elegance in its simplicity.”

  “So the maker is talented?”

  “Very much so, I think.”

  A broad grin split Fred’s face. “The gods smile upon the worthy once again. Where did you get this, boy?”

  “I stole it,” Langdon replied.

  “Is that right? Who’d you steal it from?”

  Langdon clamped his mouth shut and turned his head away.

  “You’re making a bad decision, boy. Mr. Ridley, take him to the basement and find out where he got this. I think we just found the techno-arcanist I’ve been looking for.”

  ***

  Kiera was glad to see Cleary’s men still standing their vigil around her junkyard despite knowing that they were probably insufficient to stop a concerted incursion. She hoped the simple display would at least act as a deterrent, and so far, it seemed to have. Maybe Fred found something more important on which to focus. As long as he wasn’t trying to kill her or her friends, she couldn’t care less what he was up to.

  Finding the gangway retracted, Kiera used her grapnel gun to launch herself onto the deck instead of calling for Wesley to lower the ramp. Wesley appeared holding a small, double-barrel pistol as she approached the aft cabins.

  “Whoa, you should announce yourself,” Wesley said. “I could have shot you.”

  Kiera rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have shot me if I was Top Hat coming to murder you.”

  “I might have.”

  “You don’t even have the hammers cocked.”

  Wesley glanced down at his gun. “I was afraid it might go off accidentally.”

  Kiera snorted as she pushed past him and banged on the metal door leading to Russel’s kingdom.

  “He installed a bell.” Russel pointed to a knob set near the door.

  She pulled the knob and heard a faint jingling sound deep below the airship. A minute later, the topmost door panel slid open to reveal Russel’s eyes.

  Kiera held up her grapnel gun. “Is there any way you could make this thing secure a line behind me so I can slide down it without crashing into the side of a building, roof, or street? It’s getting damn painful.”

  The middle panel dropped open and Russel thrust his hands through. Kiera handed over the gun and her extra spools of shimmersilk cord when Russel beckoned for them. He slammed the panels closed and disappeared without a word.

  “That went easier than I expected,” Kiera said.

  “Yeah, he’s been on a building bender since the attack. I’m not sure if he’s even slept more than an hour at a time given the constant noise.”

  Kiera looked around. “I thought the airship looked different. Fewer holes.”

  “I don’t know half of what he’s done. So what’s going on with you?”

  “Just working.”

  “Still won’t tell me on what?”

  She shook her head. “Can’t. Best if you don’t know.” She reached inside her vest and handed him the money she had stolen the night before. “Courtesy of Fred. I figured he owed you. Your face is looking better by the way.”

  “I traded some of the weapons I managed to get off Fred’s men, the few I beat Russel to, for some ointment. What hasn’t healed I covered with makeup. I should be able to go back to work soo
n. Speaking of which, Langdon stopped by the other day.”

  Kiera did her best to sound disinterested. “Yeah? What did he want?”

  “Big picture? Probably to steal your virtue.”

  Kiera punched him in the shoulder. “I mean in particular, you rutting rammox.”

  “He was just checking up on you. He was worried about you after your meeting with Nimat.”

  “Any word on the street about what she’s doing?”

  “Not a peep, but then I haven’t strayed far from the airship, and my contacts don’t generally run parallel with Nimat. It doesn’t sound like yours do either these days, which really makes me wonder what you’re up to.”

  “I told you not to worry about it. I’m fine.”

  “So are your clothes.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “They’re clean and everything.”

  Kiera pushed him away. “Like I said, I’m getting regular pay. I can afford to not dress like a beggar.”

  Wesley reached up and traced a line running from her temple down her cheek. “This crease almost looks as if you’ve been wearing a mask, a real one, not just a face wrap.”

  She slapped at his hand. “What would I be doing wearing a mask?”

  “You tell me.”

  “The only thing I’m telling you is to go jump in a dung pile.”

  Russel’s door panels clanged open, and he thrust the grapnel gun through. Thankful to change the subject, Kiera walked over and took hold of it. The gun now had two spools set side by side along with a couple of new runes and bits of mage glass.

  “That was fast. How does it work?” she asked.

  Russel’s hands and fingers danced around through the door panel. “This shoots forward from this spool. This rune launches backward. Don’t shoot yourself in the face. It will hurt.”

  “Thanks, Russel, this should work great.”

  Russel slammed his panels shut and disappeared without a word. Within moments, banging noises resumed from below as he went back to work on his current project.