Blackthorne

by Stina Leicht

  Why doesn’t he get on with it? Blackthorne thought.

  Two older Wardens moved to flank Caius. One was tall and lean with mismatched eyes and a thin scar running down his cheek. The other was shorter. Stockier. Thaddeus and Martin. Blackthorne couldn’t suppress a shudder. He checked his right. It was clear. I can run.

  “You wouldn’t get far.” Caius’s manner became official, and his voice louder. “Care to guess what the bolt was coated with?” He waited for the answer.

  When none came, Caius whispered, “You always did have trouble with toxin studies, Severus.”

  I am not Severus. Not anymore. Blackthorne felt everything around him make a sickening shift. Poisoned. He assumed he had about a minute of consciousness remaining and desperately tried to think of some means of taking advantage of it. However, his perceptions had already begun to slow, and his thoughts were sluggish. A jarring impact to his knees awakened an explosion of pain from the wound in his thigh. He bit back a scream. Mud coated the side of his face. He rolled onto his back and blinked. When he next opened his eyes, a black sky laced with branches whirled above.

  Lightning flashed. For an instant, every color was brilliant and full of life. It formed a beautiful backdrop for Caius’s blurred, worried face. Blackthorne saw the shine of a silver-laced blade in Caius’s hand.

  At least it won’t be the dogs. In spite of his training, Blackthorne had thought he’d be afraid, but he wasn’t. He was glad of the time he’d been able to buy for the others. They would’ve sailed from the harbor by now. It saddened him that he’d be leaving Lydia without a mother or a father. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that Mallory McDermott would get her to the Hold safe. At least she had that chance. He wouldn’t be leaving anyone else behind who would grieve him. He made what peace he could with that knowledge and lifted his chin, welcoming the blade.

  Die well, Severus.

  Caius stooped closer. His face grew more conflicted. He glanced to his side and then whispered, “I have my orders. I can’t go against them.”

  Blackthorne wanted to tell Caius he understood, but what came out of his mouth was, “See to your back.”

  He saw Caius flinch, and the last thing Blackthorne felt was the cold edge of a silver knife under his ear.

  CAIUS

  NOVUS SALERNUM

  THE REGNUM OF ACRASIA

  25 MAY

  THE TWENTY-SECOND YEAR IN THE SACRED REIGN OF EMPEROR HERMINIUS

  “How long will the director be away?” Caius asked.

  It was the fifth time in the span of two days that he had questioned the officer posted outside the director’s gate. In each instance, Lieutenant Aureus had given Caius a bored look and a vague answer—the most recent of which had been punctuated with an impatient frown.

  “The director is currently in Archiron,” Lieutenant Aureus said in a firm voice, this time offering more.

  “I understand,” Caius said. “And when is he due to return?”

  Lieutenant Aureus hesitated.

  Caius gave him a determined look. You know damned well I’ll be here every day until I get an answer.

  He whispered, “Late next week. I’ll leave a message that you wish to see him.”

  Was that so difficult? “Thank you,” Caius said. “Now, if you would please add that it is in regards to Inspector Aureus Severus, I would be grateful.”

  At the mention of Severus’s name, the lieutenant’s expression became more guarded. Caius could’ve sworn the man was extremely nervous, even fearful.

  What has he heard? Caius considered asking but knew he’d get nothing.

  The lieutenant bowed. “The director will be informed, Captain Fortis.” There was less indifference in the lieutenant’s tone.

  Caius nodded his thanks and left. There was nothing to do but return to the infirmary and wait for Severus to wake. And perhaps when he does, he will tell me what in the hells is going on.

  When he’d been given his orders, he’d been told that Severus had been spying on a group of smugglers under the guise of being one of them. Apparently, the group had expanded beyond the illegal sale of nonhumans to Tahmer or Massilia. They were indulging in treason. Caius’s orders had been to track and capture Severus so that Severus could report to the director without arousing suspicion. In order to maintain appearances, Caius was to act as though the capture were legitimate.

  It had been a shock to see Severus so ragged, no matter how much it fit the director’s story. Still, he was determined to go through with the action. It wasn’t until Severus had spoken that Caius had been certain something was wrong.

  See to your back. With that, the first seeds of doubt had been planted. However, when the bodies of the cadets had been discovered, his hunch had been confirmed. He’d known Severus from the time they were both boys. He wouldn’t kill without need. He had to have honestly felt he was in danger. Caius wished he’d known more. He wished he’d been able to speak to Severus alone. But with Martin and Thaddeus tagging my heels, there wasn’t a damn thing I could have done about it, anyway.

  And that was another thing that bothered him. Why had the director sent his men? Caius was known to be Severus’s friend. Surely, couldn’t he be trusted to get Severus home safe?

  Severus had lived among the smugglers for more than a year. Have the nonhumans corrupted his mind with magic? Was that why he killed the cadets? There were so many questions.

  He hurried across the frozen practice grounds to the infirmary. He’d needed the walk. He hadn’t slept in his own bed since returning from the field. Aware of Severus’s feelings regarding surgeons, Caius had been sleeping in a nearby chair—not the most comfortable arrangement. However, he’d not been able to convince the attendant to bring a folding bed.

  Two days since the arrest. And Severus hadn’t opened his eyes once.

  He’s thinner than he was. Did I miscalculate the dose? Or is the physician deliberately keeping him unconscious? Caius didn’t like where that thought led.

  He nodded to the cadet stationed at the reception desk and headed to the private room where Severus slept.

  “Sir?”

  Caius halted. “Yes?”

  “Your friend has a visitor,” the attendant said. “His brother. Perhaps you should allow them a moment… .”

  Severus doesn’t have a brother, Caius thought. He bolted down the hallway and threw open the door to Severus’s room. As he did so, he tripped over the gore-strewn remains of a junior surgeon in a huddled mess on the floor. The surgeon’s face was an eyeless mask of blood and meat. Exactly like the rogue hunter’s kills.

  A bleeding bowl had been upturned on the floor. Its contents pooled on the scrubbed wooden floor. The wall above Severus’s bed was streaked with crimson. A balding, slope-shouldered man stooped over the bed.

  “What are you doing?” Caius asked.

  The man turned. He was holding a bloodstained Warden’s knife. He smiled. There was something very wrong with his eyes.

  He’s malorum.

  Caius launched himself at the creature. They both crashed to the floor. Caius landed on top. Scrabbling for the malorum’s wrist, he twisted, but his opponent was strong. The malorum bucked him off, turning his hips. Caius slammed down painfully on his elbow and then his side. He had just long enough to think to continue rolling before the knife arced past his face. The malorum howled and stabbed again. Caius felt the blade catch his clothes as he turned his body away from the blow. While his attacker was overextended, he rammed his head into the creature’s ear with all his might. The malorum pitched sideways. Caius freed his own knife at last and plunged it into the creature’s side. Its mouth fell open. It blinked and a secondary membrane nictated over surprised eyes. A chill oozed through Caius’s body.

  Slashing with his Warden’s knife, he cut the creature’s throat before it could recover and attack again. Another gout of crimson painted the blood-soaked floor. He staggered to his feet, intending to check on his friend. Above Severus’s bed was
a message daubed in gore. Like the message he’d found months before, each letter R was reversed.

  It read: I’m the heir. You’re the spare.

  “Got you, you bastard—in spite of your friends,” Caius said, wiping his face with the back of his forearm. “I got you.” Why would the attendant think that thing was Severus’s brother? ?

  Panicked footsteps echoed down the hallway outside as he thought to search the malorum’s greatcoat pocket, retrieving the identification papers. He stuffed them inside his coat. Then he went to Severus’s side. He appeared to be alive and unharmed. One arm protruded from under the covers; the bloodletting incision in his arm oozed.

  Two surgeons and three Wardens burst into the room.

  “What is the meaning of this?” a surgeon asked. “What did you do?”

  “I prevented that thing from murdering my friend,” Caius said. “Why didn’t anyone stop it from entering in the first place?”

  One of the older Wardens pulled the surgeon into a corner. The others checked the bodies and began the process of taking them away. Caius felt more than saw a presence at his elbow.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Turning to the speaker, Caius saw it was Aureus Thaddeus. “I came to see Severus.”

  “Report.”

  “The surgeon was dead when I got here. It attacked Severus; therefore, I killed it,” Caius said.

  Thaddeus’s face remained blank while he listened. One of the surgeons bandaged Severus’s elbow while surgeon’s assistants began cleaning the room.

  “Why would that thing come here? Why would it tell the attendant he was Severus’s brother?” Caius asked.

  “I’m sure I don’t know. But you’ve had very little sleep, and you’ve just been through a shock,” Thaddeus said. “Go home. Get cleaned up and have a decent meal. We’ll take over from here.”

  “But Severus—”

  “Will be fine. Thanks to you,” Thaddeus said. “I must ask you to leave now.”

  “We will take care of him,” Aureus Martin said.

  Caius hesitated. That’s what I’m afraid of. He nodded and reluctantly stepped back.

  Two surgeon’s assistants entered carrying a third wooden stretcher. This time they went to Severus’s bed.

  Caius blocked their way. “Where are you taking him?”

  “We have orders to take him to the Reclamation Hospital, sir.”

  “But he’s obviously still ill …”

  Aureus Martin said, “Get out of the way, Fortis.”

  “Why? What has he done, sir?” Caius asked.

  “It’s for his protection. You saw what happened,” Aureus Martin said. “Now go.”

  Helpless, Caius watched them bundle Severus up and then exited the room. He went to the cadet at the checkin desk. The cadet glanced up from a text secreted in the center drawer before pushing it closed. When Caius made no move to reprimand him, the cadet appeared to relax.

  “Who is the surgeon in charge of treating Aureus Severus?” Caius asked.

  “Let me see, sir.” The cadet checked a record book. “It says Inspector Surgeon Aureus Augustan, Managing Surgeon, Research Group Seven.”

  A research surgeon and another member of Gens Aureus? “Thank you.” Caius left, intent on finding Augustan. But first, he stopped to check the papers he’d stolen off the malorum. The name listed on the record was Munitoris Arion. He was the noble whose records Captain Drake was sent to inspect—the one that I’ve been unable to interview. He crammed the documents back into his coat before anyone could see them.

  I’m not meant to know about Arion.

  First, do what you can to help Severus. Then worry about the rest. The surgeon was the only one who could stop the transfer. He got halfway across the parade ground before he was brought up short by a thought: What if Augustan already knows? What if this is being done on his orders? What do I do then?

  He continued, arriving at the Hall of Records before he was aware of where he was going. There’s no harm in looking up Inspector Surgeon Aureus Augustan. There might be something in the unrestricted records.

  Unless the record has been altered. Caius attempted to not think the worst as he entered the building. Then he did something he had never done before—he didn’t sign in. Instead, he bribed the cadet at the desk and the sentry at the door. He reached the stairwell with the sinking feeling that he had crossed a line he’d never imagined he’d cross. After passing the Warden stationed on the second floor, he was ten sterling poorer, leaving him with two coins and less than a hundred in paper notes with which to breach the records of a brother Warden.

  He went to the record cabinets along the far wall, intending to get through the least intimidating aspect of the problem. He couldn’t find anything on Munitoris Arion. That was not surprising. What was interesting was the surgeon Aureus Augustan. Caius discovered his name listed in the scientific journals. Augustan was widely published, and it took several minutes to gather the volumes. Most of the articles were twenty years old and related to plant hybrids, the recording of unusual leaf shapes and flower colors. Some progressed to other topics like smallpox immunity, but almost all pertained to the reproductive systems of plants.

  What on earth could a botanist want with Severus?

  When he tired of reading essays arguing plant propagation and trait inheritance, Caius approached the Warden Librarian’s desk. He recognized the librarian’s curly brown hair and crooked nose with a jolt. He was both relieved and embarrassed, knowing what he would have to do next. “I see congratulations are in order, Tolerans Cornelius.”

  Cornelius smiled and nodded. “Successfully completed the exams three weeks ago. Knowing the director didn’t hurt.” He paused, seeming to catch Caius’s serious mood, and changed to a more professional tone. “What may I help you with?”

  “I’m not certain you would wish to be involved.”

  Cornelius leaned closer and peered at Caius. “Is it that serious?”

  Caius nodded.

  “For you?” Cornelius whispered, and then shrugged. “Ask.”

  Hesitating, Caius finally sighed and reached for the contents of his pocket.

  Cornelius put a hand on the desk to stop him. “Don’t.”

  Caius slumped in defeat. Cornelius doesn’t take risks.

  “There’s no need for you to pay,” Cornelius whispered.

  Caius was surprised to find a sympathetic expression on Cornelius’s face.

  “My friend, whatever you seek must be very important if you, of all people, are willing to attempt a bribe,” Cornelius whispered.

  “I need what you have on Munitoris Arion and … Aureus Severus.”

  Cornelius pursed his lips in a silent whistle. “The last is an extreme request.”

  “I told you that you wouldn’t wish to be involved.”

  Holding up a hand, Cornelius said, “Don’t despair yet. Let me think.”

  Caius looked away, checking the room. Two other Wardens were doing research. Both appeared engrossed in their work.

  Cornelius cleared his throat. “Bring me a record drawer. It doesn’t matter which.”

  Caius did as Cornelius requested. When he returned, the librarian was gone. Caius set the record drawer on the desk and waited. The room was quiet except for the tiny rustling sounds of cards being flipped, the scratch of a pencil or the occasional chair being shifted. Every noise, no matter how small, echoed throughout the room. He breathed in the familiar scents of the library. Once, those smells would’ve meant comfort to him, but now they gave him a far different feeling.

  What am I doing?

  A quarter of an hour passed before Cornelius returned. His footsteps echoed through the library like the tick of a clock. He turned the file drawer around, shuffled through the record cards with one hand, paused, and then casually inserted several new ones amongst the old.

  Bent over the file drawers, Cornelius whispered, “Both sets of files are closed. This was all I could obtain without risking
more than my stripes. Have them back to me within a quarter of an hour.”

  “Thank you,” Caius said. “I’m in your debt.”

  He carried the file drawer containing the new cards to an isolated table and sat down. The information printed on the first two cards consisted of Severus’s school records and wasn’t of much interest. It wasn’t until he reached the fifth card that he found something significant. Reference Project Testudo. Inspector Surgeon Aureus Augustan, Managing Surgeon, Research Group Seven. All other records Director’s Eyes Only.

  He sat up straighter in the chair and flipped backward through the cards to the first set.

  Munitoris Arion. Also Aureus Arion, Project Testudo. Inspector Surgeon Aureus Augustan … All other records Director’s Eyes Only.

  Caius felt his heart drop into his stomach. Maybe Severus had a brother after all.

  They can’t have shared the same mother, but if they are half-brothers, that would mean … Duke Aureus fathered a child on a malorum? That’s revolting.

  Wait. Aureus is a vocal supporter of racial purity. He’d never—

  Caius’s eyes burned, he was tired, and his neck ached. He set down his graphite holder and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes, he glanced at one of Augustan’s books. It was open. Propagation. Hybrids. Trait inheritance. Purity of strain.

  Project Testudo.

  Surgeon Aureus Augustan is a research surgeon.

  The room grew cold as Caius felt the blood drain from his face. What have they done to Severus?

  He heard someone cough and glanced to the librarian station. Cornelius gave him a meaningful look. Quickly jotting down the information from the card, Caius then returned the drawer to Cornelius.

  “Did you get what you needed?” Cornelius asked.

  “I think so,” Caius said. “Would you happen to have access to anything pertaining to a Project Testudo?”

  Cornelius shook his head. “I pulled all the related files I could. Duke Aureus’s records were sealed as well.”

  “Thank you, Cornelius.” Director’s Eyes Only. Caius cleared his throat. “You won’t—”