Queens of Wings & Storms

by Angela Sanders et al.

  “Oh, it doesn’t.” She sighed and shook her head. “My imagination was getting carried away. I was thinking so hard about how colleges and academies require bodies for research that I dreamed up this whole stupid thing about Dane Sheltier supplying them for money.”

  Cadence sipped. “But where did thoughts of the College come from? Missus Boyce, I must understand the entire thought process and how it was logical to you.”

  “Well, every year since my husband’s death I’ve made a donation to the Anatomy Wing at the Physician’s College. My husband, we later found out, had a condition. You see. Something with his stomach. Maybe hereditary. I want to support any research that could lead to a cure. And on this last trip I was told about a possible breakthrough that Lord Deloren is working away at.”

  “I see.”

  “I told you, I’m an overthinker.”

  Cadence sipped again. “It’s not always bad.” She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then stood straight. “I will see you again, Missus Tillie Boyce. Thank you for your time.” She finished the tea and tipped her hat.

  “What will you do?” Tillie asked. “Is this going to be taken seriously?”

  “Very.” Cadence made her way back to the front door. “I must pay a visit to Riddenholm’s new grave warden. Have a good day, Missus Boyce.”

  Chapter 4

  Cadence de la Croix left by riverboat late at night. The crowd was light and quiet, hoping to be somewhere lively when the sun rose. There was a little bit of gambling going on inside, but nothing rowdy. Cadence avoided it easily by standing out on the deck.

  Summers in Central Siopenne were blistering. But at night, along the river, it cooled down and the air soothed what the sun had burnt. If one could tolerate the bugs.

  Cadence did not know the people of Riddenholm. Not like Tillie did. When she arrived, the sun was just climbing over the horizon. The town woke with the sleepy blues, pinks, and yellows in the sky and they promised a hot day. Cadence did not dress any differently. Her long black coat announced her wherever she went, and people kept their distance.

  The cemetery was in sight. She was only five blocks away. As she walked, she seemed to be the only one walking in its direction, as though she were fighting a current. But the people parted for her like she was a shark.

  “Mama, why’s that lady look so mean?”

  A woman pulled her child out of Cadence’s way. “Hush, you. She’s working.”

  Cadence thought to tip her hat to them, but they hurried away from her. What was it? Was it her face? Did she look angry? She wasn’t. She was just determined.

  An elven man strummed a painted mandolin on the corner a couple blocks ahead. Cadence watched his expression change as he decided if she was worth the effort or not. He ducked away as she came near and only gave her a little nod.

  That was for the best, she thought. She was not in the mood to stop, listen, and tip.

  At last she was under the arch of the Silver Lady Cemetery. It was in immaculate shape. She had visited on occasion to make sure it was up to Sanctum standards and it always had been, but it had never been so manicured and clean before.

  Dane Sheltier had a lot to prove, so it seemed.

  Grit had been cleaned out of crevasses in headstones. Spots where engravings had weathered away were chiseled new again. Fenced areas had been mended. Weeds were pulled. Candles were lit at every marker, flickering wildly as they reached the end of their wicks. Walkways were dusted.

  Cadence followed the walkway to the grave warden’s cabin to find a young man applying a fresh coat of white paint. He’d tied a rag around his head to keep sweat out of his hair and another paint-stained rag dangled from his belt. His pants and tunic were dappled with white paint, too. When he saw her approach, he gave her a gap-toothed smile.

  “Good morning, my lady!”

  She tipped her hat. “Mister Dane Sheltier?”

  “That is my name!” He set his brush over a metal paint tin. “How can I help you?”

  “Where did you come from?”

  He shook his head a little and wet his lips. “Oh, this is one of those conversations. Believe it or not, my lady, I come from Vaskio. Um, who are you?”

  “Vaskio?” She stared a hole right through him. “Siopenne’s capitol? Nearly three thousand miles north of here? If I have the choice to believe it or not, Mister Sheltier, I do not.”

  He cleared his throat. “I do hope to remedy that Miss—who did you say you were?”

  “I never did.” She crept around to observe the back of the cabin. “I am a Bone Priestess from the Botathora Sanctum in Beralin. Lady Cadence de la Croix.”

  “Ah, the Sanctum!” Dane threw his hands up and smiled again. “I knew someone would have to come by eventually. Brin told me to expect someone.”

  “For an inspection. You are well prepared.” Cadence rolled her shoulders. “The Silver Lady has never looked better. But please, Mister Sheltier, tell me about your journey from Vaskio City. Is that where you grew up? Why did you leave? Why did you come to Riddenholm of all places?”

  He wiped the quickly forming sweat off his brow. “Can we go inside? Sit down for this, perhaps?”

  “No.”

  “My lady, I need some water.”

  “Sounds like you need a diversion.”

  “No!” Dane waved his hands. “No, gods. Alright. Look, my friends and I did some real stupid things in Vaskio—”

  “Such as?”

  He started to pick the paint out of his nails. “The whole point of me coming here was so I could stop talking about it.”

  “How convenient. How is it that you are qualified to protect the dead with this troubled past? If I am left to fill in the blanks myself, I most certainly will. The reason why you left Vaskio could be none other than necrophilia, which makes you wholly unfit for—”

  “Good gods, it was nothing like that!” Dane shouted. “Okay, okay… my father was an asshole, so I stole money from his shop. And then my friends and I accidentally burned it down. But the arson was accidental!”

  “You keep yelling like that Mister Sheltier and someone will hear about your terrible deeds.”

  He grumbled and wiped his hands on the rag. “Brin did not tell me I’d be interrogated.”

  “Because this is not standard introductory protocol,” Cadence told him. “This is an investigation. How do you know Brin Colt and why did he think you were qualified to be the new grave warden?”

  “I don’t know him!” He opened the front door and beckoned. “Look, you’re making me nervous. Let’s go inside. I’m thirsty. I’m parched. Aren’t you?”

  “Answer the questions, Mister Sheltier.”

  A jug of water waited for him inside the cabin at his desk. The cabin was big enough for several small possessions, a desk, a bedroll, and a bookshelf. An unlit lantern on the floor was ready for nightfall.

  “I met him by accident. All of this was by accident, Lady Cadence. I was originally headed to Dreamer’s End, so you know I had about another two thousand miles south to go when I got here. It looked like a nice place to rest up and resupply, and I specifically wanted to resupply my stock of silver bullets.”

  “Afraid of bloodkin?”

  “I often travel through the night. I am afraid of many things. I was sold a meager supply of silver bullets then told to seek out Brin Colt for the rest. We hit it off because we both had acquired interesting tactics for fending off the undead. That’ll happen when you travel three thousand miles!”

  Cadence waited for him to pour a cup of water, then watched as he drank and spilled it all over himself. She sighed.

  “So, what would you have me believe, Mister Sheltier? That everything has happened to you by accident?”

  He made a futile attempt to wipe away the water on his tunic. “Truthfully, I think Brin Colt was in such a hurry to close this chapter of his life, he was willing to shove it onto anyone in sight. My qualifications were that I was not a familiar face who would
come to him with questions every day. I was a stranger who would feel too awkward to do anything but leave him alone.”

  “If that were indeed his thought, is it a correct one?”

  He drank and then gave a long pause. “It is. With the Sanctum so close, they are clearly the better authority if I need more training, anyway.”

  “A smart answer in your company, Mister Sheltier.” Cadence tipped her hat and walked out. “Good day.”

  Cadence left the Silver Lady Cemetery with a quiet mind. When people looked at her, she could tell that some of them knew. They knew she was with the Sanctum. The ones who didn’t know it before knew it as they saw her walk back out under the arch. They made the connection.

  Her next destination was the Riddenholm Post and Roost. Early in the morning it was a mess of townspeople sending news to faraway places or hoping for a response. She could wait an hour for a lull, but there was no point. The time would be wasted waiting either way.

  The doors were wide open and there was dust and dirt everywhere. There were different lines—one for ponies that delivered around town, one for ponies to nearby towns, one for mail via birds, and still more. Cadence waited and eventually she was seen by an elf with deep bronze skin and emerald eyes.

  “Collecting or sending?” she asked.

  “Sending. To Vaskio. As quickly as possible.”

  The elf’s eyes grew wide. “Are you certain? Vaskio is very far—”

  “Yes it is, ma’am. I am aware. I must send a letter immediately.”

  The Post and Roost sent Cadence’s letter on their fastest bird and it took off almost as soon as the pen had left the paper. Cadence hoped the city would respond to her with just as much haste. Until she could confirm Dane Sheltier’s backstory, her only lead rested with the Physician’s College.

  With Lord Deloren.

  Chapter 5

  At the beginning of a long, winding trail through the woods, Tillie waited for Lady Cadence de la Croix. She bounced on the balls of her feet trying to catch a glimpse of the woman’s long black coat from between the trees. Instead she saw the busy city of Beralin.

  For four days, Tillie had gone to the Botathora Sanctum hoping to hear of the Bone Priestess’s return. But for four days, she had heard nothing. She’d started to wonder if the woman was avoiding her.

  No, Tillie thought. Lady Cadence is much too straightforward for that.

  It was getting late. Rowan would be coming home from the schoolhouse soon. Just as she was about to give up for another day, however, Tillie caught sight of a tall black hat.

  “Lady Cadence!”

  She’d blurted it out without even realizing it as she flew through the trees and into the city to meet her. Cadence didn’t startle at all. Calmly she turned to look Tillie in the eyes.

  “Missus Boyce.”

  “What took you so long to come back? Did Dane do it? Did he do something?”

  Cadence raised an eyebrow. “Missus Boyce, do you not have somewhere else to be?”

  Tillie choked on words as she followed Cadence back through the trees and to the walkway leading to the Sanctum. “What? No, not really. Not yet. Rowan will play outside with his friends, probably, till it’s time for dinner and homework.”

  “Then I suggest you go home and you deal with that. This investigation is not open to the public.”

  “Surely you can share your findings with me!” Tillie said. “I was the one who tipped you off!”

  “Please, Missus Boyce, go home. I have work to do.”

  Tillie threw her hands out. “Well, what about Dane Sheltier? What’s going to happen to him? Can you tell me that?”

  Cadence got a few steps ahead of her. “Nothing. He checks out. The only crimes he’s committed are in Vaskio, so his fate is out of my hands.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Tillie chased after her. “There’s no way everything is just coincidental. Something else will turn up! It has to!”

  Cadence breathed in deep and turned around. She stood high up on the walkway that climbed toward the Sanctum and stared down at Tillie.

  “The only lead I have left is the Physician’s College, Missus Boyce. After that, if I find nothing, I will have to drop this case and chalk it up to a well-meaning mother’s overactive imagination.”

  “Oh!” She clutched at her skirts with trembling fists. “It is not overactive!”

  “Thank you for your concerns,” Cadence tipped her hat and turned back toward her hike. “This is farewell, Missus Boyce.”

  “Wait!” Tillie chased her again. “How will you approach this part of your investigation?”

  “What does that mean? I will go to Lord Deloren and I will ask him questions.”

  The Sanctum came into view as they continued along the path, passing through patches of sunlight streaming in through the trees. The entrance was marked by tall columns linked in a circle with peaked arches. Each column depicted a different form of Botathora—she was shown as the weaver with her spool and thread, as Death with her black shroud and silver curls cascading from a skeletal face, as Mother Time holding an hourglass in one hand and her child the Moon Goddess in the other, and other interpretations from around the world.

  “You can’t just walk in there with your interrogation, my lady. That’s not how it works, not there! They’re very tight-lipped and secretive to strangers, especially Lord Deloren. I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more personable to get your answers out of them.”

  “I do not need your advice.”

  Tillie was suddenly terrified for Cadence. She could picture it crystal clear: the woman marching in as she always did, throwing around her sour face to be intimidating only to be shut down by a group of equally stubborn old men.

  Aside from the columns and arches to distinguish the place, the Sanctum was a somber building. Appropriately it looked like a multi-storied stone mausoleum, just without the charm. Tillie had always wondered what exactly went on inside. She knew about the death ceremony and the Rite of Crossing—some people preferred one over the other and the only real difference seemed to be formality—and she knew that Botathoran initiates were all trained to perform it. But there was so much more to the Death Goddess and her followers.

  The Time Mages. The Bone Priests and Priestesses. The Weavers. Tillie had only ever heard about them in whispers. Her curiosity kept her stuck to Cadence’s side.

  “But I could help, my lady.”

  They stood by a thick wood and iron door that towered above them. Cadence did not go in.

  “You could help. By staying out of it.”

  “No.” Tillie shook her head. “You need an in. There’s no way Lord Deloren will warm up to you. But he’ll warm up to me. He knows me. I could almost say we’re friends.”

  Just when she thought Cadence would say ‘no’ again, the woman stayed quiet. She studied Tillie’s face as she thought.

  “You seem like the kind of person who will get carried away,” Cadence said. “I work better alone. But if I need you to secure this suspect for questioning, you must let me do the talking.”

  “We will not be securing a suspect for questioning!” But Tillie was all smiles as she shouted. “We’re visiting with good news and having a good chat. That’s all. You’ll have to sneak your questions into a normal conversation, if you’ve ever had one of those before. Can you do that?”

  Cadence’s mouth was a flat line. “Of course.”

  “Wonderful!” Tillie clasped her hands together and shook them. “Oh this will be great, Cadence de la Croix, I promise! Come by my place tonight and we will devise a plan!”

  The next night at seven o’clock, Tillie slipped into the most immodest dress she owned. It was perfectly appropriate for a summer night out. Sleeveless with a neckline that hid what she wanted while still showing off her décolletage, and a bodice decorated with black floral lace. She smoothed out her yellow skirts, then took a brush to her fly-aways.

  “How’s my hair look, baby?”

  Ro
wan, who also looked sharp in a clean black tunic, folded his arms and nodded. “Looks great, ma.”

  “Oh good. Alright, we’ve got fifteen minutes before Lady Cadence gets here and I have a feeling she isn’t going to be one second late.”

  “Do I look okay?”

  She wiped a smudge of dust off his cheek. “Perfect! Are you sure you want to go with us tonight? I wish you’d stay over at your friend’s.”

  “You need me to sell your act!” Rowan grinned. “Right?”

  “Right.” She pinched his cheek.

  At seven fifteen, Cadence de la Croix knocked on the door and Tillie wasn’t sure what she should have expected. There definitely was not a drop-dead gorgeous vixen under Cadence’s usual black coat.

  “You look uncomfortable,” Tillie told her. “Come in.”

  Cadence was in a cornflower blue dress that she could barely breathe in. Her arms didn’t quite fit in the short sleeves and her breasts were pushed up so high she’d probably be mistaken for a serving girl. She’d braided her shaggy hair and secured it into a bun with pearl pins, and one silver ring served as jewelry on her right index finger.

  “Did you borrow that from someone?” Tillie asked, gesturing at the dress as she ushered her in.

  “No.” Cadence glared at her and they went to the kitchen. “It’s mine. Haven’t worn it in fourteen years, though.” Her hands clenched tufts of skirts with a white-knuckled grip.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Hate it now. Hated it then, too.”

  Tillie sighed. “For gods’ sake, Cadence, why did you wear it?”

  “It’s the only dress I have and you said to dress up.”

  “I meant look nice!” She waved her hands in the air. “We’re going to a fancy restaurant! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat a meal in that. You’ll pass out!”

  “Then I won’t eat.”

  Tillie huffed and started to pace. She didn’t notice Rowan leaving to their room, but saw when he came back with clothing in his arms.

  “She looks about as tall as daddy, right Ma?”