“Veranix is—” Delmin offered, though he then clammed up. Knowing Delmin, he probably was incapable of coming up with a believable lie.
“It is of no moment. I’m sure he was busy celebrating his successful completion of his third year. If he is not on hand to join our celebration, that’s his loss.”
Kaiana hoped that was the only thing that was his loss. “Sir, I should probably get cleaned up before I join you.”
“Oh, of course,” Alimen said kindly. Then he really looked at her. “Miss Nell, perhaps you should even visit the hospital ward.” He glanced about again. “I am a foolish old man. You all probably should do that first. Our celebration can wait. Perhaps by that time Mister Calbert will have crawled out of whatever hole he is in and be in a state to join us.”
“I sincerely hope so,” Kaiana said.
Alimen looked at her, and for just a moment she swore she saw a sparkle of understanding in his eye. Then he winked and said, “We can taunt him for missing the excitement. Now let us get out of this dismal place.”
Every bit of his body hurt. Every muscle and down to the bone. Even his hair hurt, somehow.
That was how Veranix knew he was still alive.
He was in a bed—not much of one, but an actual bed—in a small, secluded room. At least, it had no windows and was lit only with a few candles. His first instinct was that he had been captured, held locked away in some private cell where he’d never see the light of day again. This didn’t look like a Constabulary holding, though. It was simple, but it had a humble warmth to it. Which meant that it likely wasn’t Fenmere who had him either.
Plus there was the fact that his clothes, including his cloak and weapons, were in a neat pile in the corner of the room.
His scrapes and wounds had been tended to, clearly by someone who knew what he was doing. He felt well enough to get on his feet and get dressed. Wherever he was, however long he had been there, Jensett was still out there. He might have already released whatever horror he had planned.
Two men were talking outside the door. Veranix wondered if he should go for his staff. Of course, if they meant him harm, they hardly would have healed him. Not to mention, he wasn’t in much condition to fight back if they intended that.
The door opened and Colin was there with the reverend from the square. Veranix was so surprised by that he dropped back down on the bed.
The reverend came in. “You’ll forgive me that I did not warn the saints of your impending arrival. Your worldly time hasn’t ended.”
“And I imagine I have you to thank for that,” Veranix said.
“I did what I was called to do. I saw a soul in need, and I tended to it.”
“I helped,” Colin said.
“Well, I—” Veranix stumbled as he got to his feet. “Thank you. But I have to go—”
“Hold on,” Colin said, pushing Veranix back onto the bed. “Where are you going?”
“Campus. Jensett may have struck, and if he did—”
“Easy, easy. Everything is fine there. Jensett and a bunch of Rabbits were hauled off campus in irons.”
Veranix sighed and relaxed, if only a little. He had no idea what state Kaiana or the rest of his friends were in. “I can’t stay long, though. I have to . . .”
“Patience, son,” the reverend said. “We’ll get you back home to campus shortly.”
“I don’t really know—” Veranix stared. Then he looked back at the priest and his strangely serene smile. “How much do you know about me, Reverend?”
“Like all servants of God and the saints, I have accepted secrets under the rite of Absolution. And I am bound by my oath to keep silent or face the cost on my own soul.”
Veranix looked to Colin. “You performed Absolution? To help me?”
“I . . . I did what I had to do. I have my own oaths, you know.”
“Mister Tyson and I will still have long discussions about penances.”
“And me, Reverend?” Veranix asked. “Do we have a long discussion ahead of us?”
“If you wish, son. But I will tell you plainly. This church is, right now, a safe haven for you. And I am here for you. I don’t . . .” The reverend paused, looking for the words he wanted. “I am still praying for guidance in reconciling the things that you’ve done in your . . . mission. I am troubled by them. But this city, this neighborhood is troubled, and perhaps . . .”
He trailed off.
“Many saints faced trials to do what was needed,” he said finally. “And when I saw you today—”
“I am not remotely a saint, Reverend.”
“No, truly. But I think trials are coming; we all may need the Thorn before they are over. Do you understand?”
Veranix didn’t, and said so.
The reverend chuckled. “I don’t either, to be honest. I just know that for months I have been asking the saints for strength, for a sign, and they showed me you.”
Veranix mused, and nodded at Colin. “Usually when I asked the saints for help, they just send him.”
“And he’s a better soul than he would admit.”
“Hush, would you?” Colin said. “Can we have a minute?”
The reverend nodded. “This place is yours, Thorn.” He left.
“He was helpful,” Veranix said.
“I may have pointed out where the large deposits in the collection boxes were coming from,” Colin said.
“You were there, in the square at the end,” Veranix said. The haze of the final moments of his fight against the Birds was coming together. “I—I’m not even entirely sure what happened.”
“Don’t ask me,” Colin said. “Some crazy magic something, and then you blew up the Trusted Friend.”
“And your Prince, Jutie. Is he all right?”
“Nah,” Colin said, his lightness an obvious front. “He got nabbed by the sticks.”
“I’m sorry, Colin, that’s my fault—”
“No, it ain’t. It ain’t, at all. He’d killed a stick the night before, so they were coming for him one way or another.” He took a moment, staring at his boots. “It’s probably for the best things went the way they did. He’ll go to Quarry, he’ll be alive. Things could have turned left, and he could have ended up at the wrong end of a crossbow.”
Veranix didn’t think for a moment that Colin believed that, but he didn’t say anything.
“So you pass your exams?” Colin asked.
“At least half of them,” Veranix said. “But I think so.”
“Good. Your pop made me promise a lot of things, but one was to make sure you finished Uni. You get kicked out, Fenmere’s the last of your worries.”
“All right,” Veranix said. “Are you going to be fine?”
“Fine enough,” Colin said. “But I owe the rest of my crew the truth about Jutie. You should probably wait a little while before heading out of here. We need to be a bit more careful about being seen together.”
“That Red Rabbit boss knew who I was,” Veranix said. “Who I really am. If he talks . . .”
“Don’t worry about that.” Colin didn’t sound too convincing.
“I’m sure some old Princes could do the same if they got a good look at me.”
“And they . . . they’re sniffing in that direction,” Colin said. “They’ve got your bow. Your father’s bow.”
“Got it,” Veranix said. “I’ll stay out of Aventil for a bit. Focus on bringing the fight to Fenmere again.”
Colin’s face fell. “Saints, Vee, you . . . you need to be smarter than that.”
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
Suddenly Colin grabbed Veranix and took him in a tight embrace. “I’m saying I need you to be smarter than that, cousin. Get?”
Veranix hugged him back. “Got.”
“All right.” Colin released a
nd stepped away. “I’ve got some drumming I’ve got to take, I’m sure. Give me a few clicks before you go, hear?”
“Heard,” Veranix said. Colin went for the door. “Colin?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For being there.”
“It’s family, Vee. It’s what it’s for.”
Chapter 27
LIEUTENANT BENVIN should have been elated.
Arch’s killer—Juteron Higgs—was in the station, ironed and locked. Case was barreled up. City Protector had no beefs. Kid was going to Quarrygate.
On top of that, they had grabbed a few Red Rabbits, and between the wrecked bar and shredded brewery, there was more than enough evidence that they had been developing this Red, which his examinarium boys confirmed was worse than effitte. That was kept off the streets before it really got out there.
And the final success, they had hauled in Miss Magadina Kend, known in some quarters as Magpie. An actual saints-be-damned Deadly Bird. Kings’ Marshals were coming to claim her, and Benvin had the feeling he didn’t even want to know what would happen next to her.
It should have been a good day.
But it didn’t sit right, and not just because Arch was lying in the examinarium down in the basement.
Not even because the kid—that blasted Prince—stood in front of him in his cell with a look on his face like he had won, despite his arm mangled beyond any chance of it healing right. Though that irritated the blazes out of Benvin, that was for certain.
It was the Thorn.
The Thorn was the reason they had the Red and the Deadly Bird, and he had gotten away. First time he had shown up in broad daylight, and he still slipped off into the shadows. Benvin was of half a mind to knock every patrolman who had been in Cantarell onto their backside and put them on night shift filing for a month.
Far as he could see, the Thorn was nothing but a menace.
And the best lead he had to the Thorn stood smirking in the cell.
“Give me a name, Mister Higgs,” Benvin said. “Give me a name and maybe you’ll get out of Quarrygate before you need a cane to walk.”
“That’s what he’s worth to you?” the Prince said. “You’ll put a stick killer on the streets a few years early for the Thorn’s name?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I don’t whisper,” Higgs said. “I don’t tell anyone’s secrets to the sticks. Not mine. Not Princes’. And not the Thorn’s.”
“So you know something.”
“I only know he’s doing more for Aventil than anyone in this building,” Higgs said. “I heard you talking about the Red, Left. And why do you have that?”
“Shut it, Higgs,” Benvin said. “Enjoy the ’Gate.”
He stalked back off to his offices, where the rest of his crew were finishing their filing. Arch’s coat and crossbow were laid over his chair there, in respect. Benvin wondered if they’d ever find someone else to fill that chair. The stationhouse was filled with incompetents and corrupted souls, save the boys in the room with him.
“So that’s it for the Red Rabbits,” Tripper said, hobbling over to the slateboard. “There’s still a handful of them out there, but between their favorite holes being flushed, half the captains being locked up, and old Gabe Jensett being strangled, there’s not much center to them.”
“Don’t count them out yet,” Benvin said. “But they’re the least of our worries.”
“Princes and Orphans next?” Pollit asked. “We’ve still got the lead on that cider ring. We could—”
“We’re not going to waste our time with a cider ring,” Benvin said. He grabbed a cloth and wiped the slateboard clean. “Right now we’ve got one thing at the top of our list.”
He wrote in big letters across the top half of the slateboard: THE THORN.
“He’s always been part of the list,” Wheth said.
“As of now, he is the list.”
“You’re sure about that, sir?” Jace was the one who said it. “I mean, it seems he’s not—”
“The Thorn caused destruction of two buildings, I don’t know how many deaths, chaos and confusion throughout the neighborhood. And people cheer him!”
“Well . . .” Jace stammered.
“He is not above the law,” Benvin said. “Mal, I want you and Wheth to get a Writ of Arrest approved for him.”
“Under what name?” Mal asked.
“Under the Thorn. Put the word out through the station that every blasted stick on foot or horse should try to arrest him on sight. We’re not going to stop until we have him ironed and celled. Am I clear?”
Everyone nodded, save for Jace. He just stared at the floor. But he was a kid. He still had plenty to learn.
“Good,” Benvin said. “Let’s get to work.”
Colin had left the church, and was only about a block into Prince territory when he was approached by three heavies, led by Hucks. “Bosses want a word, Tyson.”
Colin held out his arms wide. “That’s where I was going, Hucks. No need to make a thing about it.”
Hucks just narrowed his eyes.
“Swear on the street, Hucks. You don’t need to do anything . . . additional to bring me along.”
“That’s smart of you, Tyson.” Hucks and his two friends almost looked disappointed, though. Colin made a point not to do anything to give them an excuse to exercise discretion on how to handle him. He walked at a brisk pace to the basement offices, no sudden moves, keeping his hands in plain sight.
They still brought him in with a little bit of shoving—mostly because they wanted to shove someone around, he figured.
The whole gang of minor bosses were at the table, no cards or anything else. Just the five of them staring at him. Nints got up and pounded on the inner door and sat back down.
“Gents, I don’t know what you’re clearly worked out about,” Colin said. “I did a good job over on Orchid. If anyone has cause—”
“Shut it, Tyson,” Giles said.
Old Casey came out of the back room, pulled a chair over and indicated for Colin to sit down.
“Colin,” he said softly. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to swear on Rose Street and your father’s good name that you’ll tell me the truth.”
“Yeah, of course,” Colin said.
“Swear it!”
“Swear on Rose Street. And my father’s good name.” Such as it was among this crowd. Of course, he wasn’t sure what he was going to be asked, and what he’d have to tell. They made him swear on Rose Street, and lying under that oath . . . it wasn’t something he wanted to do.
“All right. Do you know if your uncle Cal is still alive?”
That he could answer truthfully. “No, he’s dead. I’m sure of it.”
“Fine. Did he ever come to you and introduce you to his son, perhaps?”
“No.” Strictly speaking, that was the truth. Cal never introduced him to Veranix; he only told him that Veranix was on the campus.
“And did anyone ever approach you and claim to be his son?”
“No.” Again, in the strictest sense, true. Veranix didn’t tell Colin that. If anything, Colin had explained it to him when they first met.
“Do you think the Thorn could be Cal’s son?”
Colin thanked the saints for the phrasing. “I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t considered it.”
Casey backed away for a bit, pacing the room. “So here’s the thing, Colin. I understand. I get if you were thinking that, you’d be inclined to trust him. Blazes, plenty of Princes would, not just you. So I need to know, did you tell any of the rest of your crew what you thought?”
“No, never,” Colin said.
“Good, good,” Casey said. His energy turned nervous, hands shaking. “I know you’ve got a Prince’s heart, Colin. I know those stars belong
on your arm, hear?”
“Heard,” Colin said, not sure what was happening now.
The door opened, and Vessrin came out with Deena.
Deena had stars on her arm, fresh and raw.
“Did you ask him?” Vessrin said.
“I did.”
“All right,” Vessrin said. “Girl, tell him what you told me.”
Deena looked nervously to the side, and then said, “This morning, I was keeping lookout at the lockdown basement.” She meant Colin’s flop. “So this Napa girl and a Uni kid come sniffing around. Then Jutie jumps out at them.”
“Jutie was there?” Colin asked.
“And that Napa girl was the same one who you talked to the other day.”
Colin had no response to that.
“Then she was saying she was looking for you. Jutie recognized her, and she said she was working with the Thorn, and she and Jutie went off together.”
“So, Colin,” Vessrin asked. “Is the Napa the Thorn’s messenger girl? Runs back and forth between you?”
“She’s with him, yeah,” Colin said. “But it ain’t like that.”
“Thorn hammered the Red Rabbits. And Gabe Jensett, that wormy bastard, is dead. So how far is it going, Colin?”
“How far is what going?” Colin asked.
“The Thorn, is he coming for me next?” Vessrin asked. “He taking over all of Aventil?”
“That ain’t . . . from what I know, it’s all about the effitte for him. That means Fenmere, and it meant the Rabbits because they got messed up in it. I don’t . . .”
“You don’t what?”
“I don’t think he cares about doing anything to you, sir,” Colin said. “At least, that’s what I think.”
“Nah, nah,” Vessrin said. “If he is Cal’s son, if he’s, god and saints damn it, if he’s your rolling cousin, Colin, then of course he wants to take me down. What else could he possibly want?”
Colin didn’t have an answer, but Vessrin wasn’t looking for one. He stormed around the room, and then to the beer taps. He poured one for himself and slammed it down his throat. “I’m putting this on you, Casey. You hear? You say he should keep his stars, I’ll listen. For now.” An accusing finger was jammed in Colin’s face. “But one toe out of line, hear?”
The Alchemy of Chaos: A Novel of Maradaine (Maradaine Novels) Page 33