Queens of Wings & Storms

by Angela Sanders et al.

  It was silent for a moment and Tillie swallowed hard. Rowan was beaming. She took a collared black tunic with a deep neckline from him and held it against Cadence’s torso.

  “She does.” Tillie smiled and sniffled. “Got his shoulders, too.”

  “Missus Boyce, I cannot wear your dead husband’s clothes.”

  “You can and you will.” Tillie shoved the shirt into Cadence’s hands. “Because there’s no way you can wear that dress. Go to the bedroom and change and I’ll fill you in on our story.”

  By eight thirty, Tillie, Rowan, and Cadence were about the starlit city at a restaurant called The Plaid Bonnet. The only parts of her outfit Cadence hadn’t replaced were her ring, the fancy heeled boots, and the pins in her hair—everything else was from Galen Boyce’s closet. Brown trousers, a tucked-in black tunic, and a black and tan gingham coat paired perfectly with Tillie and Rowan’s attire. Together they waited outside on the stoop for Lord Deloren of the Physician’s College’s Anatomy Wing.

  It was Cadence’s first time meeting him. His standing in the community was marked by a quality cloak despite the heat and an amber cane in the shape of a very specific species of hooded snake with venom that was rumored to cure terrible ailments. She figured him for a man with many grandchildren as he was old and in good spirits. But there was power in the way he stood. He was strong and lean and had many rich years of life ahead of him despite a slight limp.

  “My goodness, if it isn’t Missus Tillie Boyce and little Rowan!”

  Cadence saw the warmth in his eyes, but she did not like the shape of his smile. It was sharp.

  “Lord Deloren!” Tillie gave him a quick hug. “It has been so long since I’ve been able to see you, much less chat and have dinner!”

  He patted Rowan on the shoulder and regarded Cadence with an awkward nod. “You said there was a special occasion?”

  “Yes!” Tillie mirrored him and patted Cadence’s shoulder. “I’ve asked you out to dine with us to celebrate! You see, I’ve recently discovered I have a half-sister. This is Miss Candice Oliver! She reached out to me after our father—whom I have never met—passed away. She came in from Pitfight Valley, which as you know is only the next town over from Riddenholm. We’ve been writing each other nonstop ever since, and after the story of Galen’s death she has been moved to make a donation of her very own to the Anatomy Wing!”

  “My!” He took Cadence’s hand and shook it. “What good fortune to have found agreeable new family! Rarely does it ever turn out that way. Shall we go in and be seated?”

  Tillie couldn’t contain her grins and went up the steps and to the front doors. “Yes. I’m famished!”

  The Plaid Bonnet was full of class and merriment. Bright light from hanging lanterns shone off polished mahogany tabletops. Every waiter and bartender smiled and wore a plaid bonnet, regardless of gender. The floors were clean, and all the plaid seat cushions were free of rips and tears. Tillie took a peek at the bar and only saw expensive bottles. It left her breathless.

  “I’m suddenly not so sure I can afford this,” she said.

  “Cut that out,” Cadence whispered. “I told you I was going to handle it.”

  “Yes, but this was my idea, I—”

  “Ladies!” Lord Deloren beckoned them to a table where Rowan was already seated. “Please, allow me to get the bill tonight. Order whatever you want. Miss Oliver, your sister and her son are like family to me. I insist.”

  Cadence nodded. “If that is what you wish, my lord, I shall not fuss.”

  They were seated in a quiet corner with a good view of the whole restaurant. They saw the city outside through the windows and they saw the waiters coming by with glass goblets of foreign wines. Tillie let out a dreamy sigh.

  “I bet this is a nice place to work,” she said. “I miss restoring books, too.”

  Lord Deloren perused a handwritten menu of the daily specials. “What about you, Miss Oliver? What do you do in Pitfight Valley?”

  “I’m a hunter.”

  She watched goosebumps crawl up his neck.

  “A fine profession if you’ve the skill and the knowledge. Rabbit? Pheasant? Duck, perhaps?”

  “Elk. I supply a generous portion of Pitfight Valley’s venison. You ever have the Valley’s venison sausage, Lord Deloren?”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever been to Pitfight Valley.”

  “A pity. If you get the chance, ask for Candice Oliver’s meat. You’ll want my meat.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m going to get us a bottle of wine and some service. Take a gander at the menu, won’t you?”

  He got up from his seat and Tillie swatted Cadence’s arm. “Will you stop being so aggressive?”

  “Will you hurry up and ask him what we came here to ask him?”

  “Don’t rush it!”

  Cadence didn’t care about the menu and let Tillie help Rowan pick something out. They’d be feasting on river shellfish soon and Cadence could take full control of the evening. She looked at all the people she didn’t know, wondering how many of them Tillie was friends with.

  She did recognize a pair just walking out, however.

  “Missus Boyce, are you familiar with the Tano family in Riddenholm?”

  Tillie shrugged. “Not really. They’ve been around since before my mother came to town. Maybe even before the Tutsons. They seem nice enough, but they’ve never wanted anything to do with me. Galen said they’re an elitist family of mages.”

  “Master Tano and his brother were just here. They’re about the only people from that town I know, and it is only because their reputation precedes them. The elitist mage one.”

  Tillie grinned. “Well, this is the fanciest place around for miles and miles.” She flipped the menu over. “Oh, bless the lords, they have dessert! Hot blackberry cobbler!”

  Cadence ignored her and went back to studying the crowd. She found Lord Deloren and his amber snake cane at the bar picking out wine. And four barstools down was Dane Sheltier.

  “Oh hell!” She pointed to him. “Would you look at that!”

  “Is that that good-for-nothing grave warden you said you spoke to?” Tillie asked. “Who’s that old woman he’s with? His mother? A date? If we weren’t already here for Lord Deloren, I’d say we have to talk to him again!”

  “I already told you Missus Boyce, he passed. If the law in Vaskio wants to pursue him down here for his crimes up there, that is their prerogative. But as far as I’m concerned, he’s committed no crime against the Death Goddess and therefore I don’t care where he ends up.”

  “Shouldn’t he be, you know, warding graves?”

  Cadence stiffened. “You’re right. I must confirm that he’s put someone in charge—”

  “Ladies, I’ve returned with an offering!”

  Lord Deloren hobbled back to the table with his cane. A bottle of wine was under his arm and three glasses were awkwardly in his grasp. He set the bottle on the table and showed off the label. It was from a quaint little monkling town in the south where the small humanoid race grew varieties of grapes no one else had ever been able to cultivate. He popped the cork and poured them each a serving of deep orange liquid.

  “Someone will be over in just a minute to take our orders. I’m told the baked clams are just delicious.”

  “I think I’ll have that!” Tillie said. “Rowan and I can share.”

  Cadence saw Lord Deloren’s mouth move again, she assumed to ask her about her own meal preferences, but all she heard was the shatter of glass. People screamed and fled from the windows and two more bricks were thrown, breaking the rest away for people in black wrappings to start jumping in.

  “What the hell is this?” Cadence yelled. She reached for her pistol—Tillie had only let her bring one of the two—and pulled the hammer back, ready to fire.

  But then there were smoke bombs and she could see nothing.

  “Stay low and get to the kitchen!” Cadence told the others. “There’ll be a back door and you can
get the hell out of here!”

  Cadence didn’t have anything else with her. She had no way to reload. With one shot, fighting back didn’t seem worth it. And then she changed her mind and swung her fist into the nearest attacker.

  The Plaid Bonnet was a mess. Glassware fell, drinks and food spilled, chairs crashed over. Some people tried to fight back with the fallen furniture, but most crawled through the broken debris on the floor and tried to escape. The smoke stung Cadence’s eyes. She saw Lord Deloren on the ground, unresponsive.

  They had to be a bandit company, she guessed. What were they after? She couldn’t even tell what they were doing as they scattered about the restaurant. Some were fighting with patrons, but Cadence knew there were more around.

  Within minutes, it was over. Suddenly there was no one else left to fight. The bandits were gone, the City Watch had arrived in their blue cloaks, and healers from the Hesperan Hospice were carrying away the wounded. Cadence looked around for Tillie and Rowan.

  “Were there any casualties?” she asked to anyone listening.

  “No ma’am,” a blue cloak said. “Eleven injured that we’ve counted so far. No casualties.”

  Cadence couldn’t even find any of the injured bandits. “I don’t understand. Did they take something? Was anyone robbed?”

  “Too soon to tell, ma’am.”

  Tillie and Rowan emerged from the backside of the restaurant. Smoke poured out from broken windows. Patrons sat on the street, coughing, while the Hesperans tended to their wounds. Cadence came to her with a bold stride.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No, my lady. We’re fine, just a little shaken—”

  “Good. This was a stupid idea!”

  Tillie’s eyes were wide. She couldn’t find words.

  “Are you listening?” Cadence asked. She wiped her forehead. “I can’t believe this. I never should’ve listened to you. I should have done this my way!”

  “How dare you!” Tillie cried. “At a time like this? Have you no tact?”

  “What is the point of tact in my world, Missus Boyce? There isn’t one! All these pleasantries are for you common, romantic folk. I am a dedicant of the—”

  “No one cares, Lady Cadence de la Croix!” Tillie mocked. “No one cares about your special title, your special job, the fancy special place you come from—you still have to exist in the same world with everyone else, so get over it!”

  “Well, well! Look at you, Missus Tillie Boyce—”

  “Stop calling me that!”

  Tillie wiped away tears. Rowan hugged her.

  Cadence’s shoulders relaxed just a little. “Stop calling you what?”

  “Missus.” Tillie found a spot on the stoop of The Plaid Bonnet to sit. She folded her arms over her knees. “Stop calling me Missus Tillie Boyce! I can’t stand it that everyone still calls me that.”

  “But you are married.” Cadence knelt down with her. “You were married. Just because your husband is dead does not erase that.”

  Tillie sniffled. “It makes me feel like I’m married to a ghost.”

  For that moment Cadence only cared about Tillie’s relationship with death. And nothing else. She had forgotten the obvious journey that the living embark upon, and Tillie’s own journey was shifting.

  “Then what should I call you?”

  “If you can’t call me by my name, just call me… call me Miss. Okay? Yell at me however much you like. But call me Miss Boyce.”

  Cadence sighed deep and rubbed her neck. It was still chaos all around them. Tillie needed to go home, and it was much too late for Rowan to be out. Cadence put her hands on their shoulders.

  “Come on. Let’s get—”

  There was moaning coming from inside the restaurant. A man. Then, Dane Sheltier emerged, being helped by the old woman he had been dining with at the bar.

  “Ugh, what happened?” He touched a bloody wound on his forehead. “I feel like I got clobbered with a table leg.”

  “You did,” the woman said.

  “Mister Dane Sheltier!” Cadence pointed her gun at his face. “Explain yourself. What were you doing here tonight?”

  He put his hands up. “Holy shit! Lady, calm down! I was taking Great Aunt Mattie out to celebrate my job! Don’t shoot!”

  Great Aunt Mattie pulled a gun of her own on Cadence. “Listen you crazy woman, you put that pistol down or I’ll blow your damn head right off your—”

  “Ma’am,” Cadence didn’t even look at her, “I am a Bone Priestess from the Botathora Sanctum and this man is a suspect in an ongoing investigation of an act of desecration. You have two options: either rethink your aim, or regret it.”

  After shifting her glare to each person in the scene, Great Aunt Mattie holstered her pistol. Then Dane took off, running back behind The Plaid Bonnet and down an alley.

  “Alright then.” Cadence holstered her own gun. “Missus Mattie, if I promise not to shoot your nephew dead, might I borrow your pistol and ammunition?”

  “You’ll commandeer it whether I say yes or not,” Mattie grumbled, removing her belt and holster.

  “Yes ma’am, I will.” Cadence turned to Tillie. “Tell your boy to go somewhere safe. We’re chasing down Mister Dane Sheltier.”

  And in another moment, they were off. Dane was not a hard person to track in his state. He left footprints that were muddy with spilt beer. He knocked over everything in his way. And he made a very audible oof when he stumbled over something every few seconds.

  “Why are you running, Mister Sheltier?”

  His response came from an alley close by. “Because I want you to leave me alone!” He gasped for air, but it didn’t help. He was a little drunk and his head was pounding. Why did this have to happen on his one night out? He’d gotten so lucky to come by his Great Aunt Mattie living in Central Siopenne. “This was supposed to be fun.” He wiped fresh blood running down the gash along the side of his forehead.

  The alley he ended up in was narrower than the others. He wasn’t familiar with Beralin and had no clue where he was anymore. He couldn’t even see the main streets. Or any streets.

  “They’re gonna find me any second.”

  Between a trash heap, a lane leading to an empty lot, and another narrow alley, Dane chose the alley and snaked his way between the buildings. Were they houses? Warehouses? Shops? He couldn’t tell and it was getting even darker. More blood trickled down the side of his face.

  He heard Cadence and Tillie behind him, arguing in hushed voices. But he heard other voices, too. From ahead. Maybe he was going to run into the Hesperans taking the injured back to their clinic. Or maybe it was the City Watch. His heart pounded against his ribs and he inched forward.

  When he came out to the end where the backs of four buildings met, he met the stares of the bandit company.

  “Damn.”

  He couldn’t even count how many there were. Perhaps he was concussed. They started to draw weapons—swords, daggers, a crossbow, he even though he had seen a casting ring for magic.

  “I’ll leave!” Dane put his hands up. “Don’t mind me, I’ll be seeing myself out.”

  He turned around and started back down the alley, but the bandits hollered and whistled and chased after him, pulling him back.

  “We don’t need you telling anyone where we are,” one of them said. “Should we kill you?” He grabbed Dane’s shoulder and shoved him to the ground.

  Dane groaned and tried to roll upright. “Gods, please don’t. Things were finally starting to look up for me! Can’t you just knock me out or something?”

  One of the bandits cleared his throat. “We’ll take him with us. String him up. First company, take him with you on the horses. Second company will meet you at the rendezvous.”

  Dane looked up at the leader. He was tall and broad, but his features were completely hidden by black wrappings, leather armor, and a cowl. Dane could only see a pair of gray eyes scanning the area, barely giving him a moment’s notice. He could not wait for Cade
nce and Tillie to find him.

  Where were they? He’d never know—a grain sack was placed over his head and two different bodies jerked him up onto his feet. It didn’t matter that he tried to keep up with them. They dragged him down the next alley anyway.

  Just out of sight, Cadence and Tillie waited for them to clear out. The bandits broke off into two groups and went separate directions. Cadence led the way, following the group that took Dane. She helped Tillie stay hidden behind crates and trash piles as they crept along.

  “Why don’t you shoot that thing?” Tillie whispered, pointing to Cadence’s gun. “I bet it’d make them scatter and leave Dane!”

  “And it’d draw the other group right back. Miss Boyce, I only have six shots and I do not have time to stop and load when we become surrounded.”

  “Those things can only fire one shot before you have to reload?”

  “I will be just as happy as you when the dwarves share their firearm engineering with us, but until that time comes, may we please focus on stealth?”

  Tillie huffed. “Sorry.”

  The company with Dane did not go far. They came to the end of a road where a family kept horses. Tillie didn’t know the family. The property looked disheveled, almost abandoned if it weren’t for the stables and a stack of split wood by the house.

  One of the bandits showed the others to the stables and outfitted everyone with a horse, making sure to secure Dane with one of the other bandits.

  “Can you ride?” Cadence asked.

  “Not well.”

  “Can you shoot?”

  “Better at the riding.”

  Cadence pursed her lips. “Why didn’t I just leave you behind?”

  “Oh, shush! One horse, I’ll ride, you shoot. I can keep up, that much I can promise!”

  “You’d better, Miss Boyce. This is going to happen very fast.”

  Chapter 6

  The bandits were ready save for one who was locking the stable back up. She motioned for the company to start without her, and they did, taking off back into the city. When they cleared, Cadence moved in with Tillie close behind.

  The bandit never saw it coming. Tillie tapped on her shoulder to get her attention. She turned around and Cadence launched her fist straight into the side of her face. Her body swung with the impact and she fell to the ground.