steel and fire 03 - dance of steel

by rivet, jordan

  “You don’t even own any Fireshops,” Sora said. Lady Tull controlled the large Denmore and Ferrington estates, but most of their business was in agriculture and livestock husbandry. One of the major access roads did cross through their land, however, and they maintained close relationships with everyone who dealt in imports and exports.

  “Several heads of houses have spoken to me about their concerns. It was my idea to approach you,” Tull said. “You have the Chief Regent’s ear.”

  Sora thought that stretched the truth a bit, but she appreciated that Tull didn’t dismiss her entirely. It was good to know the heads of houses were openly discussing their dissatisfaction with the Lantern Maker—and turning to her for solutions. She should encourage those cracks to grow.

  “I will discuss it with the Chief Regent,” she said. Rafe had been spending more time in the library with her. He seemed to enjoy having someone to discuss his research with, especially since he and his wife had been less than warm to each other lately.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Lady Tull apparently read too much encouragement into Sora’s diplomacy, because she offered another elegant curtsy and placed a hand on Sora’s arm. “My queen, I wanted to apologize for my involvement with Lord Bolden. It was ill advised and—”

  “Ill advised?” Sora said flatly. “Bolden killed my brother and attempted to take my throne.” She still held out hope that Dara and Siv had escaped the mountain, but Lady Tull didn’t need to know that.

  “I was blinded by my affection for him,” Lady Tull said with a delicate sigh. “The romance of youth was—”

  “You mean your ambitions backfired, and now you’re trying to salvage your position.” That young-love act might work on the old lords, but Sora knew better. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say on the subject.”

  Lady Tull blinked, and Sora couldn’t help feeling smug. She recognized an ambitious and calculating young woman in Lady Tull, even though many of the noblemen wouldn’t see past her pretty face. Sora had long thought that one of her distinct advantages in not having a particularly pretty face was that people weren’t distracted by it. Lady Tull used the distraction to great effect. Even her brother had underestimated her. But Sora wouldn’t fall for it.

  “Enjoy the rest of the party.”

  She turned her back on Lady Tull and spotted Lima approaching. The Lantern Maker’s wife was never far away in a crowd. As she crossed the Great Hall, she had to force her way through a group of Fireworkers. Her face darkened when they didn’t move out of her way immediately. She still wore a scowl when she reached Sora.

  Before Lima could ask what Lady Tull wanted, Sora said, “I have to use the water closet.”

  “Be quick about it,” Lima said. “You must give your speech shortly. The sooner we can be done with it, the better.”

  Lima escorted her to the door of the water closet, which was located off a corridor outside the Great Hall. She had been more careful about leaving Sora alone in mixed company ever since the Winter Market. Sora had a feeling someone had noticed her sneaking away and reported back to Lima. Either that, or one of her noble informants wasn’t as trustworthy as Jully thought.

  Using the young girl and her friends to gather information wasn’t ideal, but every time Sora tried to put out feelers amongst the older nobles, they told her to stop trying and keep her head down. It frustrated her that people wouldn’t take her seriously. She may be shy of her eighteenth birthday, but she was still a queen. More importantly, she might be the only one who knew the scale of the Lantern Maker’s plans. She had to make people understand how important it was to get rid of him.

  Lima halted in the corridor outside the water closet, and Sora shut the door firmly behind her. The woman made for an uncomfortable shadow, and she didn’t want to spend any more time with her than necessary.

  She pulled the paper Jully had given her from her belt and sat on a low bench inside the cool, dimly lit room to read. Jully had a rambling writing style, and she erred on the side of repeating everything she heard, useful or not. In this note, Sora found the usual complaints about the Fireworkers, rumors of Soolens lurking around the mountain, fears about the war in Trure, and more complaints about the Fireworkers. But one line stuck out to her:

  There are always lights in the Fire Warden’s greathouse. Sometimes frightful rumbling noises too. No one knows what’s going on there.

  Sora frowned. Could Rafe be making progress with his Fire Weapons? Did it have something to do with whatever he was studying in the ancient Firewielder’s journal? The mysterious Work that was supposed to make the mountain strong. She needed to win some of the Workers to her side eventually. She’d debated confiding her suspicions about Rafe’s secret project to Daz Stoneburner, but she worried the Lantern Maker had regained his full cooperation. Daz hadn’t spoken against him in the last two council meetings.

  She’d learned a key piece of information about Daz Stoneburner from Berg Doban on one of the rare occasions he had been able to get a message to her. It was harder to get in contact with him than with the harmless-seeming young noblewomen. But was the hint about Daz enough to allow her to trust him?

  She turned over the next sheet of paper, looking for clues about the mysterious Work being carried out in the greathouse.

  The door burst open, banging against the wall hard enough to make the lone Firebulb shudder, and Lima strode in.

  “What are you doing?”

  Sora leapt up, trying to stuff the papers back into her belt, but it was too late. Lima crossed the small space and snatched them away from her. A dark cloud oozed over her features as she read the notes.

  “Where did you get this?” she demanded, her voice icy.

  “It’s nothing. I was just—”

  Sora should have seen the blow coming. Suddenly she was on the floor, crumpled against the bench. Flecks crossed her vision like the Orange Star, and her face stung.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Lima hissed.

  “I was just scribbling some—”

  “This is not your handwriting. Do you take me for a fool?”

  Lima grabbed Sora’s arm and hauled her off the ground, dropping her roughly on the bench.

  “No,” Sora said, trying to project meekness.

  “This isn’t a game,” Lima said. She leaned in close, her breath hot on Sora’s face. “You may think you’re playing at a conspiracy, but you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  “And you do?” Sora straightened, pressing her back against the cold wall behind her. “Look at that note. The mountain is in turmoil. It’s going to erupt if you don’t rein in the Fireworkers. You are going to ruin everything that makes Vertigon great.”

  “Careful, girl,” Lima whispered.

  “I am the queen.” Sora lifted her chin, the stars in her eyes making her reckless. She’d had enough of cowering. “You cannot continue to treat me like this. You’re not the Chief Regent. You’re not even a Fireworker. You are nothing.”

  Lima smacked her hard across the face. Sora tasted blood on her lip.

  “You need me,” she said, fighting to keep her voice from trembling. The anger helped. They were going to destroy everything. “You’d have killed me weeks ago if you didn’t. Maybe you should try listening to me instead of parading me around at parties every few days.”

  Lima smiled, and the expression was utterly terrifying. Then she swung at Sora again.

  It was worse than it had ever been before. The blows rained down, two, three, four. Fury and frustration gave Lima’s fists strength. Sora could sense the rage that she was certain came from more than just anger at Sora’s words. Lima had to be deeply frustrated by her position. She must have expected things to be different when she and her husband finally took power.

  But that realization did little to help Sora now. She tried to avoid the blows, to fend them off with her arms, but Lima was too strong. Sora’s resolve not to cry broke, and tears mixed with the blood on her face as Lima
took out her rage on her.

  She was about to break down and beg for it to stop, when the door crashed open.

  “What are you doing?” came a horrified voice.

  Tears blurred Sora’s vision, and she could hardly see as someone rushed forward and caught Lima’s arm before she landed another blow.

  “Unhand me.”

  “Don’t you dare touch her.”

  Sora was aware of a struggle above her. She pulled herself into a sitting position, waiting for her eyes to clear. Whoever had entered strong-armed Lima over to the door. She shook loose her assailant.

  “Come, girl, you have a speech to give.”

  “She’s not going anywhere with you. And you don’t want anyone to see her like this anyway. Find someone else to give your burning speech.”

  Steel rasped in the sudden quiet following the words.

  “Fine,” Lima spat. “Take her to her chambers. I’m done with her.”

  The door slammed shut. Still shaking uncontrollably, Sora looked up at her rescuer.

  It was Kel, his face as white as death. He knelt beside her and reached a tentative hand out to touch her cheek. Sora winced at the sting.

  “How long has this been going on?” he said quietly.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s—”

  “It does matter. You should have told us what she was doing.”

  “You can’t d-do anything about it.” Sora shuddered, unable to stop the tears pouring down her face. “You broke your c-cover.”

  “Hey, it’s all right.” Then his arms were around her, and he held her gently against his chest. Sora buried her face in his coat and let the tears fall.

  “It wasn’t so bad at first,” she whispered. “But she’s . . . she’s getting worse.”

  “I know what’s it like,” Kel said softly, his breath ruffling her hair. “My old dad used to hit me all the time.”

  “Really?”

  “Dueling was the only thing that saved me. You know what I learned? It’s never about you. It’s not your fault.”

  “I thought I could handle her.”

  “You shouldn’t have to handle anything on your own.”

  “I just wa-wanted to be a strong queen,” Sora said.

  “You’re wonderfully strong,” Kel said. “Firelord knows this is a hard situation, but you’ve been damn brave.”

  Sora sniffed, aware that she was dripping tears and blood on Kel’s uniform. But she didn’t pull away. Maybe she didn’t have to be as strong as she thought when she had friends on her side. Gradually, her tears subsided.

  “That’s better,” Kel said, sitting back on his heels. “Now, I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To kill that evil woman, of course.”

  “Wait!” Sora gasped. “The Lantern Maker will burn you to ashes. That won’t help anything.”

  Indecision crossed Kel’s face, and for a moment she thought he was going to carry out his threat anyway. Then he sighed. “Okay, my queen. What do you want me to do?”

  Sora dried her eyes on her sleeve, considering her options. Lima was clearly coming unhinged. Could they divide her from the Lantern Maker without doing further damage to the mountain? He seemed more interested in his secret projects than in Lima’s power plays most of the time. Those projects were still the greatest threat. But maybe Lima had given them an opportunity.

  “I need you to bring me Daz Stoneburner,” Sora said at last. “If Madame Pandan is with him, she can come too.”

  “Right now?” Kel asked.

  Sora pushed a strand of hair back from her face. She could tell a black eye was already forming, and blood crusted her lip. The Workers needed to see what kind of people they had put in power.

  “Right now.”

  It was time for drastic measures. If she was going to split the mountain, she’d split it. Maybe that was the only way to put it back together again.

  Kel helped her onto the bench. He brushed a gentle hand along her cheek before departing to fetch the Square Workers. As soon as she was alone, she took deep, shuddering breaths to calm herself. She wouldn’t let Lima terrorize her any longer. She needed to go on the offensive. And now she had leverage.

  She’d been focusing on the nobility, but it was becoming clear that Rafe’s efforts to raise up the Fireworkers had been a little too successful. They were claiming power fast, and even Lima seemed to be struggling with the new reality. But they also might be the only ones who could stop Rafe from unleashing his secret project on the Lands Below.

  Sora was going to have to fight Fire with Fire.

  She pulled a cover down over the Firebulb in the water closet, casting the small room into shadow. She moved into the darkest corner, mulling over her plan, putting the actions she had to take next in their proper order.

  The door opened with a scrape, and fear jolted through Sora’s heart once more. But it wasn’t Lima. Kel had returned with Daz Stoneburner and Madame Pandan the Metalworker. Sora stayed back in the shadows as the two Workers shuffled in, scanning the water closet suspiciously. Kel stopped behind them, managing to look menacing despite being shorter than both. Sora caught a glimpse of Telvin Jale guarding the corridor before the door closed again.

  “Thank you for coming to see me,” she said regally.

  “This is a rather . . . unconventional place for an audience, my queen,” Madame Pandan said.

  “This won’t take long,” Sora said. “I want you to work with me against the Lantern Maker.”

  Daz coughed. “My queen! You must have the wrong idea about us. We are loyal to the crown and the Chief Regent.”

  “The crown and the Chief Regent’s interests are at odds,” Sora said, gaining confidence as she spoke. “You must know that he doesn’t want what’s best for Vertigon.”

  “My queen, I don’t—”

  “You don’t truly want the Lantern Maker to create Fire Weapons to invade the Lands Below, do you?”

  The two Workers exchanged shocked glances.

  “That’s what he wants,” Sora said. “And I’m guessing you don’t like it. My question is: can you stop him?”

  “He has overstepped the bounds of wisdom,” Daz said. “But what you are suggesting—”

  “That’s not the only bound he has overstepped,” Sora said. She pulled the cover off the Firebulb and emerged into the light, revealing her battered face.

  Madame Pandan gasped. “Did he—?”

  “Not him,” Sora said. “It was Madame Ruminor.”

  Daz stared at her, his face ghostly in the light from the Firebulb.

  “But you’re just a child,” he said.

  “I can’t think this is what you wanted when you helped the Lantern Maker overthrow my brother.”

  “No,” Daz said. “It most certainly is not.”

  Sora recalled the key piece of information Berg had provided her about Daz Stoneburner, the one reason the Firesmith might be her only hope. He hated violence. He hated it even more than the average Vertigonian. He was talented at crafting sport dueling rapiers, but he abhorred bloodshed. He had helped create the wall of Fire around Square Peak during the coup because he believed it to be the safest way to achieve what he wanted for the Fireworkers without further violence.

  But according to Berg, Rafe’s actions since then did not sit well with Daz. And he wouldn’t like the idea of Rafe as a conqueror either. Now, Sora was counting on his conscience to get the better of him at last.

  “You must know the Ruminors are not good for Vertigon,” she said. “The balance that keeps our mountain peaceful has been disrupted ever since he freed the Fire. People are being hurt, and it is only going to get worse. Will you help me stand against them?”

  Daz and Madame Pandan looked at each other then back at Sora. Daz’s gaze lingered on her battered face. At last, he bowed his head.

  “What do you need us to do?”

  31.

  Fork Town

  SIV and the team rode into For
k Town at dusk. The journey through Kurn Pass had been a blur of shifting shadows and creaking saddles. They had entered the Pass as a company of Truren soldiers was constructing a log wall to block it. Their rush to get far enough away to avoid trouble meant they’d had a long ride in the dark after a tough day’s journey. They slept for a few hours at a time beneath the sheer rock cliffs of Kurn Pass and continued through the next few days in a tired haze.

  “I’d rather get to Fork Town and rest there than sleep on the rough ground,” Kres said when they complained. “And I want to put some distance between us and Trure.”

  The arduous pace struck Siv as unnecessary. The Soolen invasion had happened far to the northeast. Obstructing the pass had been a precaution to protect the border, but they were hardly in danger here. Still, he figured he’d appreciate Fork Town even more when they finally arrived.

  Siv remained wary of his companions. Their reaction when he tried to leave had confirmed his somewhat dubious status amongst them. They didn’t trust him, no matter how friendly they acted on the road, and they didn’t plan to let him walk free. He hoped the strain of leaving in the middle of the night had contributed to their open hostility. They worried he would give them away, not the other way around. They didn’t know who he was—or who he used to be. For good or ill, he was bound for Fork Town, leaving his past farther and farther behind.

  The thought of Dara was a blade in his gut with every step. He could hardly sleep with her face before his eyes. He told himself again and again that he’d had no choice, but he couldn’t help feeling that she’d have fought anyway. She wouldn’t let a petty thing like a knife to her veins and enemies on all sides keep her from returning to him. But unlike Siv, she hadn’t gotten her sister killed. Unlike him, she could still bear her own name with pride.

  By the time the sun rose over the Linden Mountains that first morning, the pen fighters had fallen back into the same camaraderie they’d enjoyed while traveling the plains. Latch grumbled. Gull and Fiz teased each other. Kres expounded on how the team was going to make him proud in the Steel Pentagon. By their second day in the Pass, Siv started to wonder if he had imagined the way they crowded in around him and brandished their weapons when he tried to turn back. He had to remember these people were not his friends.