steel and fire 03 - dance of steel

by rivet, jordan

  “I’m sure he’d love to meet you too,” Dara said at last, smiling with some effort. Siv would be thrilled to meet a powerful Pendarkan sorceress, but then he could be too curious for his own good.

  “Good,” Wyla said. “I believe my informants will be of more use to you than my Might in this particular matter. I’m glad you brought it up, though.” Her knitting needles resumed their clacking. “I had been looking for a delicate way to address the issue of payment.”

  “Pay-payment.”

  “For my assistance, of course. I don’t offer favors lightly.”

  Dara should have known this was more than a simple carriage ride, no matter how dismissive Wyla had been when they offered to pay her before. They didn’t have a single coin left, and Dara had no idea where they’d get more. Wyla probably wasn’t interested in gold, though. Dara had the sudden sensation of the carriage walls closing in on her. She wished for the wide emptiness of a Vertigon bridge over a chasm.

  “I wouldn’t dream of leaving without repaying you for all you’ve done for us,” she said.

  “Excellent.” Wyla sat a little straighter in her seat, an unmistakable note of triumph in her voice. “We’ve been traveling for three days, and I saved three lives. I’ll throw in my dear Rumy here for free.” Wyla scratched Rumy’s head, and the cur-dragon huffed contentedly. Traitor. “You will stay with me for three months and assist with me in my research.”

  “Three months?”

  “We shall explore potential collaborations between Watermight and the Fire. That task shouldn’t be rushed.”

  Three months seemed a high price for a three-day ride, but it wasn’t as bad as Dara had feared. Time was one of the only things she had to offer—after she saved Siv. It wasn’t as if she’d be going back to Vertigon anytime soon, and she doubted anyone would welcome her back in Rallion City after her escape from the palace dungeon. She feared Wyla wouldn’t let any of them walk free unless she agreed. It was the least she could do for Vine and Rid after all their help.

  “Can we delay this payment until after I find my friend? I don’t know how long that will take.”

  Wyla’s mouth tightened. “I dislike waiting.”

  “Those men will kill him,” Dara said. “They’re probably searching the city by now. We have to find him immediately.”

  Wyla sighed. “Very well. You may take as long as you need, but be warned that I am not a patient woman. I will see to it that you uphold our bargain. If the delay becomes too much of an inconvenience, I might add another month, for your friend’s life.”

  “I give you my word,” Dara said. “You will have your payment as soon as my friend is safe.” She stretched out a hand to shake Wyla’s. Vine’s eyes widened, and she twitched her head slightly. The warning was clear, but before Dara could pull back, Wyla caught her wrist in an iron grip.

  “I accept your word,” she said softly. “You will stay with me for three months and assist in my research. You will not leave Pendark in that time. So may it be.”

  As Wyla said the last words, an icy sensation crept through Dara’s hand and up her arm. A thin border of silver appeared beneath Wyla’s fingernails. There was no mistaking it. Watermight. Dara’s whole arm went numb for an instant, then the sensation faded as quickly as it had begun.

  “What did you do?” Dara demanded, snatching her hand back as soon as Wyla released her.

  “It is a simple bit of Artistry that will ensure you uphold your end of our agreement,” Wyla said. “I haven’t gotten as far as I have in this world by taking people at their word. I hope you understand.”

  Dara rubbed her hand. Her fingers tingled as if a practice blade had struck the nerves in her wrist. “How does it work?”

  “If you try to leave Pendark before the agreed-upon three months are over, your sword arm will freeze to the core. This may cause your bones to crack, though I must say I haven’t seen it myself. People rarely break their word to me.”

  Dara clutched the ivory knife hilt to steady her hand, trying not to let Wyla see her alarm. She’d never encountered this kind of Work before. The Fire had been used only to craft practical objects for a century. What were the powers capable of when you ventured beyond simple production?

  Vine’s face was a mask of unconcern, but Dara knew her well enough to recognize her apprehension about this development. If nothing else, this may dampen Vine’s desire to impress the Waterworker. At least Vine could still leave the city if she wished. Dara was the only one implicated in the bargain. The only one Wyla wanted.

  She looked at the mysterious Waterworker, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. I guess I have three months to find out.

  “Now that’s taken care of,” Wyla said, taking up her knitting needles again, “you may wish to look out the window. We have reached Pendark.”

  37.

  Fire

  SORA paced across her tower bedroom, from the window to the Fire Gate to the tapestry-covered wall and back again. She had never moved to the king’s chambers in the central tower after being crowned. She normally appreciated the familiar comfort of her neat, orderly space in the midst of everything happening on the mountain. But as she strode back and forth, waiting for news, she hated the room more with each step.

  Daz Stoneburner would descend to the Well at midnight to sabotage the Lantern Maker’s secret Work. He and a dozen of his trusted Square Peak allies were hiding in Lady Atria’s greathouse next door to the Fire Warden’s old home until it was time. They still didn’t know exactly what form the Work took. They’d have liked more time to prepare, but news had arrived that the siege of Rallion City had begun. They couldn’t afford to delay. They would take their stand against the Lantern Maker before his Work was complete—even if it meant going in blind.

  Sora leaned on her windowsill to look out over King’s Peak. Darkness had fallen over the mountain, but she could just make out the roof of the Fire Warden’s greathouse from here. If only she could tell what was going on inside! She’d only been informed of when the operation would take place yesterday morning. Madame Pandan had slipped her a note at a council meeting while pretending to discuss a Metalwork ornament on the council chamber door.

  Sora had been careful not to hint at her connection with Daz and the Square Workers lest this attempt fail. Sabotaging the secret Work would not remove the Lantern Maker from power, and she still needed to be on the inside to keep tabs on what he was doing. The Square Workers would try to get in and out of the Well before the Lantern Maker was aware. Hopefully he would never find out which Workers were responsible for the interference.

  Sora felt frustrated that she couldn’t do more to help tonight. Berg and a handful of duelists were guarding the Square Workers’ backs while they crept into the Fire Warden’s greathouse. Oat and Yuri were watching the Lantern Maker to make sure he and his wife didn’t go for a midnight stroll to the Well. Telvin Jale was posted outside Sora’s door—along with Captain Thrashe, of course—and Kel lurked outside the greathouse, ready to bring her the news of what had happened.

  Until then, Sora couldn’t do anything but wait. Wait and pace.

  A knock sounded at her door. She froze, her heart leaping straight into her throat.

  “My queen?” Telvin poked his head through the door.

  “Yes?”

  “You have visitors.”

  “Now?” She widened her eyes significantly, and Telvin gave her a strained look in return. This was not part of the plan.

  “Yes, my queen.”

  “Very well.” Captain Thrashe would be right outside the door, so there was nothing more she could say. “Send them in.”

  Jully Roven entered in a flurry of magenta silk, followed by her friend Maraina in yellow. Telvin offered them each a crisp, military-style bow, making the two girls giggle behind their gloved hands. Each one had a bag slung over her shoulder, and Maraina carried a pale-pink box full of sugared salt cakes under her arm. They darted over to Sora as soon as Telvin closed the door
behind him.

  “Oh, Sora, it’s wonderful to see you,” Jully gushed.

  “What are you doing here?” Sora asked.

  “We told the guards at the front gate that we had planned to stay with you tonight for your birthday, and they let us right in!”

  “My birthday?” Sora felt a strange emptiness at the thought. She had completely forgotten what day it was. She had been so focused on the plan for tonight that she hadn’t even thought about celebrating. She would turn eighteen when the midnight bell struck.

  “We’re so sad you’re not having a proper royal feast,” Jully said. “But we thought we’d surprise you anyway.” She skipped over to the couch by the Fire Gate and sat, tucking her feet underneath her.

  “Uh . . . this might not be a good night for this.”

  “Whyever not?” Maraina said. “You only have one eighteenth birthday!”

  She sat beside Jully and opened the box of salt cakes, the stiff paper wrapping crinkling softly. Then she dug into her bag and pulled out a dark glass bottle.

  “I snuck this from my father’s wine cellar,” she said. “It comes from across the Bell Sea!”

  “I’m sure it does,” Sora said. “Thank you for thinking of this, but I’m a little tired tonight.”

  “But it’s your birthday!” Maraina whined.

  “I know, but I’ve been very busy lately.”

  “Being queen must be so boring,” Jully said. “Can’t you do something fun for once?”

  Sora normally appreciated that her friends didn’t treat her differently now that she was queen, but she was beginning to regret that now. These girls could do with some deference. She looked back at the darkened window. Daz and his Workers should be getting into position now. She dearly wished she could see what was going on.

  “Staying up late one night can’t hurt,” Maraina said. “You weren’t even sleeping anyway.”

  Sora forced herself to look away from the window. She wasn’t doing any good pacing and staring at a faraway rooftop. She supposed the young noblewomen would give her the perfect cover if things went badly out there. No conspirator in her right mind would have friends over on the same night she had coordinated a sabotage effort. At this point it might be more suspicious to send them away, though. She’d have to play along.

  “Okay,” she said at last. “You can stay.”

  “Yes!”

  Jully produced a bag of dried soldarberries to go with the wine and cakes, and Sora brought over three goblets from beside the water pitcher and sat, straightening her skirt—Amintelle blue—over her knees. She tried to keep up her end of the conversation as the young ladies chatted and gossiped, but she couldn’t help glancing at the window every few minutes.

  “You’re so quiet today,” Jully said. “Are you worried about Sel?”

  “What? Oh, yes. But I’m sure she’ll be safe in my grandfather’s palace.”

  “My father doesn’t think Soole can win the siege,” Maraina said. “He thinks they’ll give up and go home by summertime.”

  “I hope so,” Sora said.

  “Oh, let’s not talk about the war,” Jully said. “Let’s talk about that handsome guard outside the door.”

  “Ooo, I know!” Maraina gushed. “How can you stand it, Sora? He’s so gallant!”

  “You mean Telvin Jale? Yes, he’s very nice.” Sora blushed. She didn’t want to let on just how much of a crush she’d had on Telvin Jale when he first joined the Castle Guard. And he was her sworn man, too. Did she still have a crush on him? Despite his straight-backed good looks and his chivalry, he wasn’t the young man she found herself thinking of these days. Her gaze strayed to the window again.

  “My father hired a few extra bodyguards recently,” Jully said, “but they’re all old and ugly.”

  “Why is he hiring more bodyguards?” Sora asked. One was standard for appearance’s sake, but most nobles in Vertigon rarely considered a whole company of bodyguards necessary.

  “Same reason everyone else is doing it,” Jully said around another bite of salt cake. “Vertigon isn’t as safe as it used to be. And the army makes him nervous, marching around like they do now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Most folks don’t go out at night since the army started patrolling the streets to keep the peace. They’re always stopping people to ask their business. They say it’s by order of the Chief Regent.”

  “We had to sneak to get here this evening,” Maraina added.

  “Hmm.” Sora had received reports about this, but she didn’t know it had gotten that bad. What if someone spotted Kel while he was waiting to bring her news? Fear cut through her, but she pushed it away. Her allies knew the dangers and would be prepared. She was worrying irrationally. She needed to be calm and collected, like a true queen. She trusted her men to look out for themselves. She stopped herself from fidgeting with the folds of her dress. Everything would be fine tonight.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “What? Sorry, Maraina. I wasn’t listening.”

  “What’s his name, then?” Maraina giggled and took another sip from her wine goblet.

  Sora blinked. “Whose name?”

  “You keep looking wistfully out the window,” Maraina said. “Who are you thinking about? You can tell us.”

  “It’s not that,” Sora said, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

  “You’re about to turn eighteen!” Maraina said.

  Jully gasped. “That’s right! You can choose a king and get married.”

  “What else would you be thinking about tonight?” Maraina said.

  “You must have someone in mind.” Jully scooted closer to her, eyes bright. She reminded her so much of Selivia sometimes. Sora wished she could spend her birthday with her sister. Selivia would be just as eager to find out whom she was thinking about at night.

  “There is someone,” Sora said at last. “But he’s not a nobleman. He can’t be my king.”

  Jully bounced on her cushion and clapped her hands. “Oh, a forbidden romance!”

  “It’s not even a romance,” Sora said. “He doesn’t think of me that way, and I’m too young for him.” She had already considered and categorically dismissed the possibility that he might be interested.

  “Nonsense,” Maraina said. “You’re eighteen—and the queen! You could marry Lord Samanar if you wanted.”

  Maraina dissolved into giggles once more, and even Sora had to laugh at the thought of taking the gruff old man as her king. His former wife would make that awkward if nothing else. She still lived on King’s Peak and entertained an assortment of male friends after her salacious liaison with her husband’s butler a few years ago. But Sora wasn’t prepared to tell her friends whom she’d been thinking about. She was the sensible one in her family. Selivia could sigh about romantic old tales, and Siv could pine after Dara Ruminor, but Sora had always known she would make a politically advantageous match. She certainly couldn’t admit to having the tiniest crush on the local dueling heartthrob, even if he had shown her unexpected loyalty and kindness. No, she had to be practical.

  “Lord Samanar might be a decent candidate,” Sora said as lightly as she could manage. “I wonder if it’s snowing.”

  She stood and walked toward the window. She wanted to see what was going on out there, and she didn’t want her friends to keep asking about the object of her affections. Her affections were last on her list of priorities—and she always stuck to her lists.

  She leaned on the windowsill, expecting to see the same dark shadows cloaking the rooftops. Instead, a glow emanated from lower on King’s Peak. It was indistinct at first, but it grew brighter by the second. The illumination changed the shape of the familiar shadows on the peak, and in her confusion Sora couldn’t tell where the Fire Warden’s greathouse roof was anymore. She realized why a moment later. It’s gone!

  She stifled a gasp and pressed her face against the cold glass. She hadn’t heard an explosion, but the roof of the greathouse had been b
lown—or melted—away. Now Fire was welling up within the building. It rose like water from a spring inside the marble boundaries. Mere seconds after Sora reached the window, the Fire began to spill over the walls. A hint of light spread away from the house, as if Fire was flooding out the front door and pouring down the slope. The glow from the dripping Fire traveled between the greathouses, illuminating the streets farther down the mountainside. Sora clutched the windowsill, her knees suddenly weak. What was happening?

  Shouts came from elsewhere in the castle, some confused, some panicked. Others must have noticed the strange light outside. Sora pushed open her window, ignoring the winter chill. A clamor of voices rose in the night, screams and warnings. Every few seconds, she heard a strange sucking, gurgling sound.

  The Fire continued to well up from the greathouse. It slipped down the walls, cloaking them in gold. Sora couldn’t see the street from here, but she imagined the Fire running down the peak in a molten river. Would it burn through the houses in its path or slip around them like floodwater? Would the people have enough time to flee?

  More warning shouts reached her tower window, but she feared they would be too late.

  What of Daz and his companions? Had they gotten out of the greathouse in time? Fireworkers were supposed to be immune to the heat, but even they could drown in a flood of Fire. There had been non-Workers inside too: Berg Doban and the fighters he had recruited to watch the Square Workers’ backs. And Kel. Kel was right outside. Did they have time to run?

  “What are you looking at?” Jully asked, joining Sora at the window. She gaped at the sight of the Fire spilling over the walls of the greathouse. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Sora said. Flickers of light across the peak suggested the Fire was overflowing in other places too, though nowhere as bad as at the Warden’s greathouse.

  Where was all the Fire coming from? The Well was supposed to emit a steady flow, not gush power from every outlet. This was a disaster! There had been a surge of Fire once when Sora was a child, but that had been a problem with the containment system. Rafe had destroyed that system, supposedly to let the Fire run freely. But now weeks’ worth of Fire was bubbling forth from the mountain, putting every man, woman, and child in Vertigon in jeopardy.