Glittering Shadows

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  The walls rumbled with Nan’s wyrdsong. Was she singing? Was she speaking? Her consciousness stretched out beyond her body. She was one with the air, one with the floor and the walls. Ingrid clenched her fists, her mouth open like she was screaming. Her wyrdsong responded, a roar of fury and pain.

  Lightbulbs shattered in the wall sconces from the force of their power. King Otto and his entourage stepped back, drawing closer to the wall. The floor was covered in bloody footprints.

  What power we would have had, when we fought together, Nan thought.

  Please. Don’t make me kill my sister.

  Ingrid’s song began to wither, as if she had heard Nan’s words. Some of her men and the sorcerers she had just bound to her were gathered close around her.

  “Go,” she said.

  “She can’t go,” Otto said.

  “Go!” Ingrid repeated. “She will go, and it won’t matter. We will conquer Urobrun. My powers are greater than hers. But I want a fair fight.”

  Nan looked at Jenny. She was too weak to travel with them. She shook her head and waved Nan away like she had become a nuisance. “Just go, go with my blessing. Do what you can, don’t waste yourself on what is impossible.”

  Sigi had climbed out from under the bed, hesitantly. Nan grabbed her hand, nodded at her sister, and then she flew out the door.

  Thea still couldn’t help a brief flash of resentment that she was now relegated to a tiny, odd club at the end of the district, but the girls were all friendly, and the welcoming atmosphere made the Telephone Club seem in contrast like a factory where her personality was a product pumped out by the hour. The waitresses there moved in cliques and competed for the best tables. Occasionally they stooped to catty rumors and shoved shoulders in the hallway.

  The first day, when Thea’s nightmare came true and she dropped a glass onto the floor, Hedda immediately appeared at her side. “What was it? I’ll get another one.” She came back in moments with a new glass of wine and a dustpan and broom to sweep up the glass.

  There were only three full-time waitresses besides Thea. They had all worked there at least six months. Her old boss wouldn’t have considered any of them perfect enough to hire. Lori was a very freckled redhead—even her lips had freckles—with an alien quality to her ice-blue eyes. Ruthie was too tall; she could imagine her old boss saying, “A man doesn’t like a woman who can look down at him.” Hedda had a faint scar carved down her cheek and a severe beauty. Thea imagined most people would’ve thought Hedda was the spy if anyone was.

  Hedda could be very sharp with customers, but she was sweet to Thea, like a big sister. She seemed to sense Thea needed reassurance. On her first day, she said, “We’ll start you with a table of university professors. They’re so nice, and they just talk about dinosaurs.” If it was slow, she doubled up with Thea and helped her serve. Lori and Ruthie were just as nice, even though Thea got huge tips from the very first day.

  Pity tips.

  Thea tried so hard not to do anything pitiable, but apparently just existing was enough. A lot of people did ask her about her hand and if she’d been injured in the riots. She said she was. It was the easiest explanation. So they often saw her as a hero, who’d been brave enough to go out and stand for the revolution.

  But she didn’t feel like a hero either. “I expect most heroes just stumble into it,” Hedda said.

  Half an hour into the evening, the curtain would rise and the café’s star, Ina Brand, stepped onto the stage, wearing a short dress made of silvery fringe. Her arms were bare and sleeved with tattoos. Thea had never seen a woman with tattoos. Her black-rimmed eyes bugged with dramatic effect when she performed, and her hair was a short, wild mop. Sometimes she wore a peacock feather headdress. And she started the show with a serpent draped around her arms. It was quite a presentation even before she opened her mouth, but she also had a sultry voice, and all the men seemed riveted by her. Thea kept watching her, too—she wouldn’t want to have tattoos and a serpent, but she had always been drawn to performers and their utter composure, the way they could take the stage night after night and create a mood and a character and have hundreds of people watch them.

  All in all, she enjoyed the job, but night after night she came home with nothing to report to Sebastian.

  “I didn’t see anyone who looked like they worked for the king,” she told him, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Again. Are you sure they go there?”

  “It’s only been a week. But you know I like to hear everything.”

  “Well, two of the men were talking about Marlis’s New Year’s party,” she told him. “They were Brunner’s men. They seemed excited about it.”

  “Really?” He groaned.

  “You don’t think it’s nice for us to host a party? It’ll build goodwill.”

  “I just don’t enjoy the attention. Isn’t anyone talking about my last pamphlet? I thought I had some amazing points about labor laws. Did you read it?” He opened a drawer. “Maybe you could ask people if they’ve read it.”

  “Sebastian, parties are so much more exciting than pamphlets. Pamphlets aren’t illegal anymore, so no one cares. And Marlis herself is exciting. The Chancellor’s daughter has declared herself a mythological being. How can you top that?”

  “I could.” He sighed.

  “Well, I understand that you don’t want to be Prince Rupert, and you don’t want anyone to notice you’re Prince Rupert, but that does limit your ability to be exciting. Maybe you should wear a serpent around your arms. It seems to work out pretty well at the café.”

  “That sure is a shame, pretty girl like you saddled with a thing like that.” Café Scorpio was packed on her second Saturday night there, and Thea was already feeling harried. She’d heard similar comments already, but not with a leer—like this guy was thinking he’d go home and tell his friends, “Guess what girl I hooked last night? Ha-ha.”

  “How’d you lose it?” he continued.

  “Gunfight,” Thea said, which was not untrue.

  “That sounds like an exciting story. I like my women a little dangerous. I don’t mind this.” He reached for her left wrist, and she yanked her arm back.

  “No need to be shy,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m not shy.” She pressed her hook to his cheek. “I don’t mind putting your eyes out.”

  “Whoa.” He sounded rattled. “I was trying to give you a compliment.”

  She had probably overreacted, but she didn’t feel bad. She had never liked men like him, but now she had no tolerance for them. She’d probably lived through more harrowing experiences than he ever would. Anyway, the hooks weren’t sharp, or she would have put her own eye out by now.

  He leaned closer. “Hey, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can I buy you a drink and make it up to you?”

  Beneath the edge of his shirt, she saw a silver necklace—with Otto’s crest. He was a tall, strong fellow, with rustic features and clothes that looked travel-worn and a little unpolished, like they were sewn by a woman at home. Irminauer clothes.

  Curses. Part of the problem with trying to gather crucial information was that no one was going to walk around announcing themselves as Otto’s spies, blabbing crucial information right at their table. She had to coerce it out, but she couldn’t do that without some clue they might work for Otto to begin with.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  He relaxed a little. “You work for the resistance around here?”

  She shrugged.

  “Seems like everyone does,” he said.

  “Not everyone. I flirted with it.”

  “How did that go?”

  He was trying to get information out of her, she thought, while she was hoping for the same. “I was intrigued with Arabella von Kaspar. Do you know of her? She died the night the workers escaped. I’d gone to some meetings of her group.”

  “I’ve heard of her.”

  “Of course, when she died, that’s when this Brunner fellow came into power. I’m just not sure about him. H
e made a lot of concessions to the old regime.”

  He was starting to look a little bored, his eyes grazing her curves. Maybe he didn’t want information after all. “Beautiful rustic girl like you shouldn’t be caught up in all this,” he said. “Why aren’t you married?”

  “I’m not interested in being a housewife,” she said, a little disturbed that he thought she was old enough to ask that question—but girls did marry at seventeen in Irminau. “I’d rather work. Speaking of which, let me get you a drink.”

  He’d probably be worse with liquor in him, but she wanted a minute away. She didn’t want to get information out of him anymore—not when he kept looking at her hook and then her body, like he was weighing them against each other and had decided she was worthy of his attention, and maybe ought to be grateful, to boot.

  She took a deep breath. If he did work for Otto, if he knew something, she could use his attention to her advantage. He had no idea how much she had faced, how involved she had been, who she worked for. She wouldn’t let him scare her from her duties just because he had poked at her insecurities. And Sebastian’s guard would be waiting for her when she left, so she didn’t even have to fear him pursuing her.

  She brought him the drink and lingered a moment at the table while he took a sip.

  “Good?”

  “Perfect. You don’t skimp on the alcohol around here.”

  “I made it myself.” She leaned against the table. “This is your first time here, isn’t it? You aren’t from the city?”

  “No.”

  “Irminau?”

  He nodded.

  “My parents were from Irminau. I’ve always wished to see it. I’m so tired of the big city.”

  “You might not like Irminau. Women don’t work there. They get married and have babies.”

  She doubted this was entirely true. “There are no waitresses in Irminau?”

  “None like you.”

  She turned her head, as if shy, although really she didn’t want to have to force some smile. She left him for a little bit, so he wouldn’t take her presence for granted, although it was hard when she was impatient to be done with him.

  When she noticed his drink was empty, she returned. “So tell me more about Irminau. My mother always says the pastries here never compare.”

  “Your mother is right. Have y’ever had gooseberry gateau? With vanilla cream…” He was getting tipsy, and she was feeling more anxious that she might be wrong and maybe he was an ordinary rustic with nothing to do but ogle girls and tell her things she already knew.

  She asked if he would be in the city next week.

  “No.” He sounded apologetic. “I’m headed north day after tomorrow.”

  “Back to Irminau? Why?”

  “I’ve got something to do.”

  “I wish I could see Irminau.”

  “It’ll be dangerous.”

  “Oh no, why?” She tried not to sound too eager. “Anyway, I don’t care, I’ve been in a gunfight, remember?”

  “Well, I don’t think you want to go into battle.”

  “I heard the armies aren’t going to move through this snow.”

  He shrugged.

  “You’re not really going into battle, are you?”

  “Nah, I hope not.”

  “Well, could I write you a letter? To boost your spirits?”

  He brightened. “Would you really?”

  “I’d love to. For the glory of my mother’s homeland.”

  “Hustenburg.” Sebastian smiled.

  “Is it helpful at all? I tried to get him to tell me more about why he was going there, but—”

  Sebastian held up his hand. “Oh no. This is very helpful indeed. Do you know where Hustenburg is?”

  “No.”

  “It’s tiny, right on the border of Irminau, just a few miles north of Lingfeldt. And Lingfeldt is a supply base that has been traded back and forth more than once between Irminau and Urobrun, right where the Urobrun River splits into a tributary. It’s actually on the Irminauer side of the river, but Urobrun has control of it.” He was sounding excited. “Lingfeldt’s supply base holds a large stockpile of weapons—ammunition and heavy guns. They’re meant to defend the border. The problem is, manpower at the base is too short for defense now. The Urobrunians could overwhelm them, take the weapons, come over the bridge, and get a foothold in our lands there. I know it’s been on Brunner’s mind, but we assumed—no, let’s say we hoped—they wouldn’t pursue it during the snows. But I’m sure that’s their target.”

  “So this is bad news, isn’t it?” It was hard to tell when he was talking so much, grabbing papers and looking eager. “They’re planning an attack?”

  “And soon, if your man’s time frame is to be believed.”

  “Don’t call him ‘my man.’”

  “How about ‘your target’?”

  “Better.”

  “I should talk to Marlis and gather up a unit quickly. It seems I’m going to miss her New Year’s party.”

  “You might want to try not sounding so delighted about it when you tell her.”

  “Oh, she’ll probably be glad to handle all the diplomacy herself.”

  “Are you going to meet the Irminau army? Personally?”

  He crossed around to the front of the desk. “It should be a fairly simple operation if we can get there in time. I’d just be supervising the defense. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not,” she lied, but she reached for his jacket and pulled him closer. “But I think I’m tired of pretending I don’t have any feelings for you for Freddy’s sake. If you did die, I would think about all the moments I’d missed.”

  “Not many, with how busy we’ve all been.” He cupped his hand around her hair. “But I know.”

  She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, throwing her arms around him. She wasn’t sure if she would have a chance to say good-bye later, if he intended to move so quickly.

  “I can’t bear losing one more thing, Sebastian. I really can’t.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

  “In one piece,” she added, feeling suspicious about promises.

  “As much as that is possible. And promise me you’ll enjoy yourself at the party and keep Marlis from doing anything too insane.”

  “As much as that is possible.”

  “I hear you’re headed for the border,” Freddy said, in a considerable understatement, what with the sudden hubbub of preparations throughout the house. “Will it be dangerous?”

  “If we make it in time, we won’t even have to engage. But if we don’t, it could be.” Sebastian had his hands spread over the map thoughtfully.

  “I’d like to go with you,” Freddy said.

  “You would?”

  “I’ve been trapped in this house for weeks. If we do go into battle and I could help turn the tide, that’s a better use of my power than bringing back spies for the UWP to torture.”

  Sebastian’s eyes brightened, but he put his hands on his hips. “I worry about your capture.”

  “Will the enemy even know I’m there? If I revive men behind the walls of a base? They can fight out the duration if I revive them.”

  “I won’t turn it down, of course. I just wanted to make sure you mean it. You’ve never been in a battle before.” Sebastian wiped his glasses on the edge of his shirt. “There is the potential for us to be vastly outnumbered.”

  “I was out the night the workers died,” Freddy said. “Not only was that ugly, but it was very personal. I don’t want to sit around uselessly waiting for the next time Brunner demands to see me, when I could offer you real help. And I have magical protection on me, so that does lessen the risk.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Brunner doesn’t even know I’m doing this, you know. I want those weapons for our use.”

  “He isn’t going to like that.”

  “To say the least. But this is my chance to grab some glory without having to use my family name.” Sebastian starte
d looking at the map again, so Freddy moved to the stairs.

  Sebastian waved his hand. “But, Freddy? I’m sending someone to get hair dye. Make that your evening project. No need to make yourself too obvious.”

  In the morning, forty-five men piled into the trucks they’d captured from the arsenal. Freddy tried not to lose his nerve as he climbed into the truck. Most of the men who weren’t going, plus Thea and Marlis, stood out front to wave good-bye. He watched them grow smaller and smaller until they turned the corner.

  Aleksy was driving; he had a picture of his girl stuck in a crack in the dashboard. Freddy had heard him talk about her before, and the snapshot of Ilse and her sunshine smile, messy hair, and homespun sweater matched the stories. She was an Irminauer girl that Aleksy hoped to return to when the war was over.

  It set Freddy to brooding. It would be easier to go to war if he had a girl to return to. He kept wondering if Thea and Sebastian had a relationship. If he had kissed her. I just want to know.

  Sebastian rode with them; he kept taking out his map and putting it away just to take it out again, musing endlessly on possibilities. “Depending on how many men they have…we might not even have enough drivers to transport all the weapons out. It’s probably better to have the sheer volume of ammunition than to save all the heavy guns…but then, how many heavy guns does Otto have? He’ll want those especially—he does enjoy big things.”

  Once they were out of the city, the landscape opened into barren fields sparkling with snow, broken by occasional stands of trees and farmhouses. Freddy had never seen the landscape outside the city before without Gerik next to him, when they went on rare visits to his parents that brought more sadness than joy. They could never speak honestly, with Gerik there for every word, and each year they interacted more as strangers. The prospect of a battle ahead wasn’t as bad as that.

  I certainly hope they found safety in Irminau. He had almost given up on finding them, and was ashamed at how little it seemed to matter. He had never had a relationship with them, thanks to Gerik. He hoped to build one, but it was hard to miss something that was already absent.