“And all the biscuits we can eat!” Twigs chimed, pulling a rock-hard biscuit from a pocket and gnawing off a bite.
Mya repressed a grimace. Only a street urchin would consider hardtack a treat. “I see.”
“You and Dee set up somewhere?” Pax asked.
“Yes. Everyone have a seat, and I’ll fill you in.”
It only took a few minutes to recount the events of the last few days and give them her new address. The urchins all went wide-eyed when she told of her summons from the emperor, but Pax frowned.
“Don’t like that at all. You get all gussied up and prance around in front of half the nobles in the realm, that bugger of a priest’ll find out for sure.”
“That’s a danger, but I can’t refuse the summons. Not if I want to maintain my Moirin identity and have the constabulary on my side.”
“Dunno why you want the help of a bunch of caps anyway,” Digger said.
“Yeah, they’re dumb as a bag of rocks!” Gimp declared.
“Knock!” Knock said in obvious agreement.
“Maybe, but they’re useful,” Mya said. “They patrol and have contacts all over the city. With any luck, they’ll capture or kill Hoseph and save me the trouble.”
“Not bloody likely,” Digger scoffed.
“What about the guild? Why not use them to look for Hoseph?” Pax asked.
“I am, but Blades and Enforcers are even less subtle than caps.” Mya raised a hand to forestall any more arguments. “Which brings up what I need from you. The masters have all abandoned their former residences, but the businesses they use as fronts are still open. I have some Blades watching them, but they’re known by the other guild members and might be spotted. I’d like to have anonymous eyes watching. Your eyes.” She pointed to the urchins.
“Watching for what?” Digger asked, looking intrigued.
“Anything suspicious. I’ll give you descriptions of the masters and any of their people that I’ve seen. I want you to watch for people coming or going at regular intervals, even if they look like workers or customers. Assassins might be carrying weapons, or looking around to see if they’re being followed. And of course, anyone who just looks like they don’t belong there.”
“And then you track them back to their master. Smart,” Pax agreed.
“Yes. If I can find out where Lakshmi, Twist, or Kittal are holed up, I can lay a trap for Hoseph. Now, I don’t want any of you following anyone. Just keep track of who comes and goes.” She fixed her urchins with a grim stare. “I mean it. No ignoring my orders this time. These are assassins. They’re after me with a vengeance and they know I’ve recruited you. If they spot you watching them, you’re dead.” Mya hated putting them in danger like this, but there are so many urchins roaming the streets, they probably wouldn’t be noticed.
The children agreed with somber nods and pouts.
“What about Hoseph?” Nails asked. “What if we spot him?”
“Be doubly careful and don’t let him see you. Just get word to me.”
“About this trip to the palace.” Paxal frowned again. “I still don’t like it. You’ll be alone, unarmed, and surrounded by a whole company of imperial guards.”
“Don’t worry, Pax.” She gave him a disarming grin. “At least I won’t be fighting an archmage this time.”
“You hope.” Pax’s frown remained undaunted. He pointed to her ring of gold and obsidian. “And what if that new emperor sees that? It used to be on his own father’s finger. Think he won’t recognize it?”
“Dee’s way ahead of you, there, Pax. I’ll be wearing gloves.” Mya tried to sound nonchalant, though her own thoughts were darker. If the emperor ever recognizes this ring…I’ve got an even bigger problem.
Chapter VIII
Dee adjusted the lace veil that partially obscured Mya’s features and stepped back. Despite the cheery gown—a pastel blue with bright frills and ruffles—he had the disconcerting feeling that he’d just dressed her for a funeral.
Her own funeral. He looked into her eyes and knew he was being foolish. This meeting with the emperor couldn’t be more perilous than the coronation. The trip to and from the palace would be the most dangerous part. Stop it, Dee. You’re being an idiot!
“What’s wrong?” Mya regarded herself in the small hand mirror he’d purchased for her, turning her head this way and that. “Do I look stupid?”
“No, you look…you look fine. You just don’t look you very much like you, which was what we were trying for.” Dee stepped forward and adjusted the high ruffled collar and the tilt of her hat. They’d chosen not to go with a wig; the bonnet covered most of her hair anyway.
“Good.” She clenched and relaxed her gloved hands. “I feel naked without a dagger.”
“You always say that. You know you can’t take a dagger into a meeting with the emperor.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want one.”
“You’re better off without one.” Dee made one more minor adjustment to the lace frills of her bodice and stepped back again. “If all Nine Hells break loose, you should run, not fight.”
“Right.” Mya tried to take a deep breath, but the restrictive garment wouldn’t allow it. She twisted and turned with a scowl. “Gods of Light and Darkness, why did anyone ever design clothes like this? I can’t move at all!”
“Because they look good. Don’t! You’ll rip a seam.” He stepped around her to check the lacings. “I’ll loosen the stays a bit. Don’t forget, this dress isn’t like your other one. It won’t fall apart if you try to rip it free; it’ll just tear and trip you up.”
“I won’t forget.” She twisted more carefully. “Just give me five minutes alone with whoever designed corsets.”
Dee could tell by her banter that she was nervous. Good, nerves might keep her alive. He adjusted the stays and stepped back. “How’s that?”
Mya heaved a deeper breath and smiled. “Better. Is the carriage here?”
“I’ll check.” Dee looked out the window to the street and saw the hackney he’d arranged stopped out front, the driver lounging in his seat as the horses shifted impatiently. He had a sudden urge to send it away, tell Mya to forgo the emperor’s good will and stay here…out of danger…with him. But he couldn’t. “It’s here.”
“Okay, time to play the dutiful husband and walk me down.” Mya went to the door and waited, casting him an impatient glance.
“Don’t look like you’re in a hurry. Relax.”
“I am relaxed.” She took a breath and nodded to the door. “Now walk me down.”
With a resigned sigh, Dee walked Mya down the stairs, casting a cautious glance up and down the street before stepping out in the open. At the carriage door, he held out his hand to help her board, longing to grab hold and not let go. If this is some type of trap, I might never see her again.
“Goodbye, darling. I’ll be back soon,” Mya said, playacting as the newlywed wife, as if they were in love.
If we were in love…
Without thinking, Dee reached out, lifted Mya’s veil, and kissed her. Her lips were warm and soft, and he could have lost himself in them, in her. Oh, gods, Mya!
Dee pulled back, cringing at the wide-eyed shock on Mya’s face. He resettled the veil with trembling hands and helped her into the carriage. “Sorry!” he whispered as he closed the door. Mya didn’t say a word, her face set in stone behind her veil.
Whirling, Dee strode back toward their apartment. Idiot! Why the hell did you do that? You know she doesn’t love you!
Movement caught his eye. Mistress Gantry stood in the doorway to her shop with a smile on her face.
“How sweet,” she said with a wink and a cherubic smile.
His face burning with embarrassment, Dee took the steps two at a time, berating himself all the way up the steps. He closed the door and leaned against it, banging the back of his head against the wood.
Stupid!
Mya sat like a statue in the carriage, her mind spinning, h
er lips still tingling from the kiss. “Dee?”
He kissed me… I told him I didn’t love him…wouldn’t love him. So what the hell was that for?
Mya suppressed the urge to leap from the carriage, grab hold of her fleeing assistant, and demand what the hell was going on. Their relationship was physical, not emotional. It was just stress relief, just sex. He knew that!
Then she saw Mistress Gantry, her coy smile and wink, Dee’s red face as he pounded up the stairs.
Of course! Mya relaxed back into the seat. Of course a new husband would kiss his bride goodbye. Good for him, picking up on Mistress Gantry’s presence. Mya had been all caught up in her trip to the palace to notice. As always, he was watching out for her.
“Where to, ma’am?” asked the driver through the little hatch above her seat.
“The Imperial Palace.”
“The…palace, ma’am?” The hackney driver looked down at her askance.
“Yes, the palace. It’s the big white building on the bluff!” She’d expected this—Midtown residents probably weren’t often invited to the palace—and had an appropriately haughty response prepared. “You do know how to get there, don’t you?”
“Of course, ma’am, I just…” He swallowed and nodded, then closed the hatch. “Right away, ma’am.”
With a crack of a whip, the hackney lurched into motion. Mya leaned back in the seat and tried to breathe in the close confines of the carriage, focus on her surroundings, stay vigilant. Lad had taught her to mistrust carriages—deathtraps, slow, noisy, confined, too little room to fight—and now she knew that Hoseph could pop into one at any moment. She recalled the swirling black mist dissipating around Lady T’s soulless corpse and shuddered. If Hoseph appeared, Mya had to kill him before he could touch her. She was fast enough. She could do it. But she had to focus.
As if intent on distracting her, Mya’s lips tingled with the sensation of Dee’s kiss. It had taken her so off guard that she had felt like a mouse under the spell of a viper’s gaze. The last man she kissed had been Lad—twice. The first had been a betrayal, a distraction that allowed him to slip the Grandmaster’s ring on her finger. She had initiated the second, a kiss goodbye. That was the problem with kisses; they were too personal, always fraught with emotion.
“Stop it, Mya!” She clenched her hands into fists. “Pay attention or you’re dead!”
Mya stared out the window, scanning the people on the street, watching for gray robes or black mists. She didn’t really expect any trouble en route to the palace. If the guild knew where she lived, they would have sent more mercenaries already. She’d have to be more vigilant on the return trip. Several of the conspirators on her list had access to the palace. They might have a way to contact Hoseph quickly, and he could be lying in wait for her to leave.
As the carriage labored up the hill toward the east end of the bluff, her mind wandered again. The buildings they passed started out as merely affluent, evolved to breathtaking splendor, then climaxed to jaw-droppingly grandiose. If she survived this guild war, where might she live in this vast city? Who might she make herself out to be? As Moirin, she had the emperor’s notice. If she lent Moirin’s name to Noncey’s security company, nobles would line up to hire his bodyguards without a clue that they were assassins. Her mind spun as she considered the intelligence they could gather with ears in the homes of the highest ranking nobility, not to mention the money they would rake in. She might even be able to afford one of these mansions.
Dee would love that. Mya smiled at the whimsical notion of Dee decorating and fussing to his heart’s content. Musing, she imagined an enthusiastic romp with him on an elaborate four-post bed with lace coverlets and canopy. A deep warmth spread up Mya’s neck and face despite her enchanted wrappings.
The carriage hit a misplaced cobble and jolted her out of her reverie.
“Stop it!” She blinked and tried to breathe. You’re going to see the godsdamned emperor, and you have half the Assassins Guild hunting you! You don’t need to be thinking about…that!
Mya shifted in her seat as the carriage rounded another corner and she recognized the broad avenue that led to the main palace gate. She fought to calm her tumultuous thoughts. She had to be at the top of her game here. When the carriage lurched to a stop, she fumbled with her ridiculously tiny handbag to withdraw the letter from the emperor’s secretary.
An imperial guard strode up to the carriage and touched the rim of his helmet respectfully. “Do you have an appointment to visit the palace?”
“I have this.” She handed over the note and lifted her veil. “It said at my earliest convenience.”
He perused the letter and his brows rose. “Yes, Miss Moirin.” The man looked at her with something new in his eyes—Recognition? Respect?—and handed the note back. “Driver, take Miss Moirin into the inner court.”
“Yessir!” Stirring his horses, the man drove the hackney through the wide tunnel that led to the outer palace courtyard, then through the next tunnel that brought them to the vast inner courtyard Mya remembered from the coronation.
The courtyard looked very different without a thousand courtiers bustling about in a rainbow of colors, their excited voices rising to the parapets. Curiously, empty and quiet, it seemed more intimidating, foreboding even. Imperial guards stood at silent attention, their eyes riveted on her carriage, the only carriage in sight. She was alone. There was no crowd to hide in now.
The carriage stopped before the main entrance to the palace, and a squad of imperial guards marched down the stairs, halting with a clash of arms. An officer opened the carriage door and glanced inside, then extended her hand to help Mya down.
“Miss…” The officer blinked at Mya, and recognition gleamed in her eyes. “Miss Moirin! Very good to see you well. We’d been told to expect you at some time.”
So much for my disguise, she thought discontentedly. But then, she had been a focus of attention at the coronation reception, accepting the thanks and handshakes of many of the Imperial Guard. To the officer’s credit, a new dress and blonde hair hadn’t impeded her identification. Hopefully, if Hoseph dared to try an infiltration, the officer would see through his disguise just as easily.
“Thank you.” Mya stepped down. “Do you need to see my invitation?”
“No, miss.” The officer signaled and four imperial guards hurried forth. “Escort Miss Moirin by the back way to the garden-view audience chamber and inform Master Tennison that she’s arrived.”
“Sir!” One young guard dashed off, while the other three formed a cordon around Mya. The corporal in charge gestured toward the palace doors. “This way, Miss.”
Mya followed the guards into the palace, less awed by the surroundings than she had been during her first visit. They immediately turned left and entered a side passage—avoiding the vast foyer and the Great Hall, the scene of her battle with Archmage Duveau—proceeding through a labyrinth of hallways toward the back of the palace. Mya memorized their path—their very long path—just in case she had to find her own way out again. Of course, getting out with the entire imperial guard blocking her way would be nigh impossible.
You’re in deep now, Mya…
Corridor after corridor they walked until, finally, her escort stopped at a white door ornamented with gold inlay. The corporal opened it and waved her through. The room beyond was small but elegant. A low dais stood off-center to her right, with a simple upholstered armchair atop it and a door behind. A divan, low table, and a few chairs lined the opposite wall, obviously for nobles awaiting an audience. Sunlight streamed through a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that commanded a stunning view of the palace gardens.
The corporal bowed and waved toward the chairs. “Please make yourself comfortable, Miss. His Majesty’s schedule is always full, but we’ve been told he’ll make time for you. Can I send someone with refreshments?”
“No, thank you. I don’t mind waiting.”
“If you need anything, just knock on this door. T
here will be guards posted outside.”
I bet there will be… “Thank you.”
The door closed and she was alone. Mya sighed and paced before the windows. The gardens were lovely, and she recalled strolling through them the night of the coronation reception, a drink in hand, giddy with the adoration of all who witnessed her deed. The wide expanse of glass would have made her feel exposed anywhere else, but Lady T had told her the palace had wards against magical transport; Hoseph couldn’t reach her here.
She jumped when the door behind the dais opened. She hadn’t been listening closely or she’d have heard the boots of the four imperial guards and the clank of the knight in chainmail from beyond the door. Behind them strode the Emperor of Tsing.
“Your Majesty.” Mya curtsied deeply and held the pose.
“Please rise, Miss Moirin.”
Mya raised her eyes and found the room more crowded than it had been when she began her obeisance. She recognized Master Tennison, the emperor’s secretary, whom she’d met after the coronation. The wizard, Keyfur, unmistakable in his flamboyant clothing, smiled at her and nodded. Three paces from the emperor stood a stern man in a highly decorated uniform of the Imperial Guard; Captain Ithross, she dredged up from her memory. A fourth man hovered inconspicuously in the background, one arm crooked around a heavy ledger, a pen poised over the page. Ah, of course, the imperial scribe. Four additional imperial guards followed and, hands on swords, took station at the doors and around the emperor.
Keyfur strode forward without preamble, grinning widely. “Wonderful to see you again, Miss Moirin!” He surprised her by bending to kiss her gloved hand. “As always, I’m forever in your debt for saving my life…” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “…and my hands.”
“Pleased to see you again, Master Keyfur.” Mya remembered the wizard in the red gown at the coronation, using magic to surreptitiously check all the guests for weapons. Had Keyfur just magically frisked her? Probably. She smiled at him nonetheless, grateful that she carried no dagger for him to discover.
Weapon of Pain (Weapon of Flesh Series Book 5) Page 11