Blood and Tempest

by Jon Skovron

  As Red watched the pastoral countryside of Hollow Falls slide by from the comfort of his carriage, he thought back to when he and Hope had come skulking up from Silverback, following Hope’s sword. He remembered how intimidated he’d been by the vast, open meadows and stately mansions. Hollow Falls now seemed charmingly provincial. Being a lord was at the very top of the social ladder here. But at the palace, among the nobility, it hadn’t been anything remarkable at all.

  When the carriage pulled in front of Pastinas Manor, it felt like he was looking at a different place from the one he’d approached a year ago as well. It was well kept, certainly, and tastefully decorated. But it was nothing compared to the palace, or Empress Pysetcha’s “home in seclusion,” or, truth be told, even Hempist Manor on Lesser Basheta.

  Red climbed out of the carriage and walked up the neatly paved path to the front door. Before he could knock, the door was opened by an elderly serving woman that Red vaguely remembered from the last time he’d been there.

  “Welcome home, my lord,” she said in a carefully neutral voice as she gestured for him to come inside.

  “Uh, thanks, but …” Red trailed off when he saw his aunt Minara waiting for him in the foyer. She wore a nice gown of lavender, her hair done up in a careful, if slightly out-of-fashion arrangement. She was perfectly composed, but judging by the tension around her eyes, it was costing her a lot of effort.

  “What a delight to see you again, my lord,” she said. “We get so few visitors these days, I was surprised to see a carriage coming to call.”

  Red glanced around at all the servants who stood in attendance. Probably the entire household, by the look of it, all come to “welcome” their lord to the manor. Red had never felt easy about his lordship, but he’d grudgingly grown accustomed. Now it felt strange all over again. Even more so because by now he’d probably officially been stripped of his title anyway.

  Red gave his aunt a meaningful look, then said, “I hate to cut things short, Aunt Minara, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

  She gave him an unsure look.

  “It’s partly about my cousin,” he added.

  Her eyes narrowed for a moment, then her expression settled back into careful decorum.

  “As you wish, my lord. Please, follow me.”

  Red was surprised when instead of leading him toward the parlor, she led him down the servants’ hallway to Alash’s workshop. Was his cousin hiding out there? That would be a stroke of luck.

  But the workshop was filled only with the mechanical odds and ends that Alash had left behind. A light film of dust covered everything.

  Aunt Minara firmly shut the door behind them. “Sorry about the decor.” She gestured to the piles of metal, sheaths of worn leather, and swatches of sailcloth. “I had Alash insulate the walls of this room so I wouldn’t have to listen to all the racket he made in here building his ridiculous contraptions. It’s as close to truly private as we can get, I’m afraid. I presume whatever you have to say is something not even the servants should be privy to.”

  “This is perfect, Aunt Minara,” said Red.

  “Wonderful.” She folded her arms and gave him a stern look. “Now, nephew, care to tell me what in all hells has been going on?”

  “Look, before I get into anything else, I want you to know that none of the lord stuff was my idea. I’ve actually been a prisoner of the biomancers for the last year or so.”

  “Prisoner?”

  “Well, maybe that’s not the right word, since I was living in more luxury at the palace than I’d ever seen in my life.”

  “You lived in the palace?”

  “Yeah, but I couldn’t leave it. Sort of a gilded cage, I guess you’d say.”

  “Why couldn’t you leave?”

  “It’s a long story, so I’ll just say that the biomancers had to keep me close so they could use me for something. And giving me Alash’s inheritance and killing Grandfather was the way they could justify my presence there.”

  Red watched the shock slowly spread across his aunt’s face. Maybe he’d been going too fast there.

  “W-what do you mean killed?” she finally asked, her voice trembling. “My father … died in his sleep.”

  “Of course he did. Right after someone poisoned him or something like that. Look, trust me on this, the biomancers that he helped all those years wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if it suited them.”

  Red had never seen his aunt so rattled. Ripples of tension ran across her face as she struggled to put the words together.

  “What … Why would the emperor allow them to get away with such things?”

  That reminded Red that most people in the empire still thought the emperor was in charge. People needed to know the truth, of course, but he didn’t have time for that right now.

  “Listen, I think I’ve managed to fix it up so that you’ve been officially named lady of Pastinas Manor. You should get the official word after they get around to declaring me a traitor.”

  “Traitor?”

  “It’s not true, strangely enough,” said Red. “Because I’m actually on a secret mission sanctioned by Her Majesty.”

  “You … work for the empress?”

  Aunt Minara’s eyes were practically rolling back in her head by that point. Red remembered how patronizing she’d been on his last visit, and he was tempted to push her right over the edge. But he knew enough about lacies now to understand she hadn’t meant to be an insufferable bore. And besides, he still needed her.

  So instead he said, “That’s right. Now, do you know where Alash is?”

  She blinked rapidly as if coming out of a trance. “Alash? Why? What does he have to do with all this? What have you gotten him into?”

  “Believe it or not, it wasn’t me. At least, I don’t think so …” He shook his head. “Regardless, if you know anything, I need you to tell me. For once I’m not exaggerating here. This is for the good of the whole empire.”

  “I don’t know exactly where he is, but a few months ago, I received a letter from him.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Just that he was okay, but wouldn’t be coming home anytime soon. He didn’t leave a return address, but the letter arrived on a ship from Vance Post.”

  “Did he happen to say who he was with?” asked Red.

  She shook her head. “He was very vague about everything. He sounded sad, so I assumed he just didn’t feel like going into details … but perhaps he was doing it on purpose?”

  Red nodded. “Since he’s a wanted criminal.”

  “What?”

  He put his hand on his aunt’s shoulders to steady her. She looked like she was about to faint.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “As long as he doesn’t do anything reckless before I find him, he’ll be fine, and I promise we’ll get his name cleared.”

  “And then … then he can come home?” Her expression was almost pleading. Like she already knew the answer, but wanted him to tell her differently.

  “I can’t make him come home,” said Red. “And after everything that’s happened, he might not want to come home. At least, not to stay.”

  She nodded, her eyes gleaming with suppressed tears. “I didn’t realize … about the biomancers. I thought it was just stories to scare the peasants. I thought surely Father would never get mixed up in something if it was truly awful.”

  “I know, Aunt Minara. It wasn’t your fault.”

  She took his hands in hers. He could feel a tremor in them. “Will you stay a few days?”

  “Sorry, I really am in a hurry. This mission can’t wait.”

  She forced a smile. “Naturally. But … perhaps … maybe just lunch at least?”

  He’d always thought of his aunt as aloof. Above it all. But he saw something different now. A lonely widow struggling to accept that her only child had found a life outside of the tiny manor she clung to so desperately.

  “Of course I’ll stay for lunch,” h
e said. “Nothing but ship’s rations all week, I’d have to be slippy to turn down a proper lacy meal. And you’ll be happy to know my table manners are much improved.”

  That small gesture only cost Red a few hours, and it lit up his aunt even more brightly than he’d expected. As he watched her order the servants around, preparing their lunch as if it were a grand imperial ball, Red got the feeling that he was the first person to eat with her in a long time. Maybe the other lords and ladies shunned her when her son was stripped of his title. If so, she really was completely alone out here.

  As they ate, Red regaled her with some of his many exploits at the palace, finishing it off with his dinner at the empress’s own table. He left out many details, of course, and made certain not to blow Merivale’s carefully constructed cover as a shallow, husband-hungry socialite.

  “Why on earth didn’t you agree to marry Lady Hempist?” asked Minara. “She sounds like quite a good match for you.”

  Red sighed dramatically as he nibbled on a sandwich. “That’s what His Highness said as well. But I’m afraid once she learns I’ve been de-lorded, her interest will cool considerably.”

  “Still a rogue, then, I see. I can only wonder what sort of woman would actually get you to settle down.” She took a sip of wine and stared off at nothing in particular. “To think Gulia’s little boy, getting matchmaking advice from the prince himself. I wonder what she would have thought of all this.”

  “I’m not sure about most of it,” said Red. “But I think she’d be pleased that I’ve taken up painting again. Just as a hobby,” he said quickly. “I know how much you dread having another artist in the family.”

  Aunt Minara laughed for the first time since his arrival. “I think I would have preferred my nephew take up painting over dangerous secret missions for the throne.”

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Minara. I can handle myself.”

  “I’m certain you can. But my poor Alash. I hope he hasn’t gotten himself in too deep.”

  “You might be surprised. If he’s still keeping company with the people I think he is, then he could have come a long away. I’d be willing to bet that he’s quite the adventurer himself by now.”

  She smiled sadly. “It’s hard to let go of the boy I knew, but perhaps you’re right.”

  After lunch, Red said good-bye to his aunt and climbed back into his hired coach.

  “Where to now, sir?” asked the driver, a solid old wrink with a short gray beard.

  “Silverback, my wag. Need to check in on an old friend.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Red gazed out the window as they rode south. He remembered it being a long walk from the pastoral Hollow Falls to the neat, even streets of Keystown, but in the carriage, it took only an hour. He felt a little uneasy entering the neighborhood that was more or less one giant military barracks—a place he’d been taught most of his life was to be feared above all others and avoided at all costs. But as they rode down the clean, well-kept streets, he realized it really wasn’t much different from the palace. Even if he was a wanted man again, the idea that such a criminal would be casually riding by in a carriage wouldn’t even occur to them. And true enough, not a single imp stopped him or even looked into the window. Of course, if they were stopped, Red still had the commission letter from Merivale with Her Majesty’s seal. But that sort of thing might draw the attention of the biomancers, and he needed to avoid that for as long as possible.

  The carriage skirted around Joiner’s Bay until it entered Silverback. The streets became narrower and more haphazard, with fewer imps and more performers. He directed the driver west, and as they rode past Bayview Gallery, he wondered if Thoriston still had his mom’s paintings up. Probably not, since the exhibition had opened over a year ago. Red was surprised to find he was a little saddened by the idea. Now that he’d embraced being a painter himself, he felt the urge to go back and look at that early work he did with his mother with a more critical eye.

  But he really didn’t have time for artistic exploration right now anyway. If Old Yammy didn’t have any information for him, he would find a ship heading for Vance Post. Even if Alash wasn’t with Hope anymore, he probably had a better idea than most where she might be.

  They reached Madame Destiny’s House of All well after dark. As the carriage pulled in front of the building, Red was surprised to see that the sign was gone. Its absence gave him an uneasy feeling.

  “Stay here and keep the horses quiet,” he told the driver, then climbed out of the carriage.

  He approached the building cautiously, his red eyes scanning the outside of the building for any clues. It didn’t look all that different, other than the missing sign. The curtains were drawn, but that was typical. He could see light faintly around the edges of the curtains on the first floor, so he knew someone was there.

  He pressed his ear against one of the windows and was struck immediately by a familiar voice:

  “You scoundrel! You criminal!”

  It was Broomefedies, the theater master from across the street. Red hadn’t seen the man in years, but there was no forgetting that distinctive, booming voice.

  “Shout all you like.” It was a male voice that Red didn’t recognize, but it had the clipped precision of an imp in the officer class. “You’ll find no rescue.”

  “Please, sir, have mercy!” said a female voice that sounded too young and tremulous to be Old Yammy. One of Broom’s mistresses, maybe?

  “You’ll find none of that here either,” said the male voice. “Your death will be slow and painful.”

  Whatever was going on, Red clearly needed to put a stop to it. He took a few steps back, then ran forward and jumped, catching the shallow awning above the door. He hauled himself up to the second-floor window. The lock was old and rusty, and after a few hard tugs, it broke. Red slid the window open and climbed into the unlit room. It still looked like Old Yammy’s room, but there were also some men’s clothes in the wardrobe. Red had never known her to take a tom, but maybe she’d just never told him about it. And where was she? Maybe downstairs with the others, only remaining quiet? Or perhaps unable to speak. Or even …

  He moved quickly but silently from the bedroom into the tiny hallway that led to the narrow spiral staircase down to the ground floor.

  “I beg you, sir!” Broom’s voice sounded like it was directly below.

  “Beg all you like. It amuses me,” said the male voice in a not-very-amused tone. “But it will do you no good.”

  “You won’t get away with this, you monster!” said the woman.

  “Oh, but I already have. Now, prepare to die!”

  Red jumped down, skipping the staircase and landing in a crouch.

  “Not quite yet, you haven’t,” he said as he drew his revolvers and pointed them at the stranger with the black beard.

  “Good God!” shouted a woman in a low-cut gown.

  “Piss’ell!” said Broom. The tall man wore a vest without any shirt underneath, and his large, hairy belly shook slightly.

  The stranger merely stared at Red uncomprehendingly. He wasn’t holding any kind of weapon. Just a sheet of parchment. Red glanced at Broom and the woman, and noticed they also held sheets of parchment.

  “Wait,” he said. “Is this a pissing read through?”

  “You must be Red,” said the stranger. While he’d been startled by Red’s entrance, he didn’t seem particularly alarmed to have a gun pointing at him.

  “Damn it, Red, where in all hells did you come from?” asked Broom.

  “From the palace,” said Red as he holstered his guns. “I was looking for Old Yammy.”

  “She’s not here,” said the stranger.

  “This is Captain Vaderton,” said Broom.

  “And I am the Luscious Lymestria, jewel of the Silverback theater!” Lymestria offered Red the back of her hand, her smoldering eyes fixed on his.

  Red grinned as he kissed her hand. Actresses. He sort of missed that world. “Luscious indeed,” he
said, eyeing the cleavage that she was shoving at him. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “An uncommon resemblance to that lacy boy from a while back,” she said to Broom.

  “Cousins, I think,” said Broom.

  “That explains it,” she said. “Although this one is clearly more skilled at talking to women.”

  “Wait, you know Alash?” Red couldn’t quite reconcile those two worlds.

  “He came here with that Southie calling herself Dire Bane,” said Broom.

  “Dire Bane?” Was Broom talking about Hope? But why would she be calling herself that?

  “They were looking for Old Yammy as well, as I recall,” continued Broom. “She’d been sent to the Empty Cliffs, and Captain Bane rescued her.”

  “She also rescued me,” said Vaderton.

  Red felt like he was missing a lot of the pieces, but right now he had to cut through to the most important thing.

  “Old Yammy isn’t here?” he asked Vaderton. “Do you know where she is now?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me. I’m sure you know how she can be sometimes.” There was a tone of fond resignation in his voice. “She only told me to wait here for you.”

  “Me? You’re saying she knew when I was coming?”

  “Not exactly, of course. I’ve actually been waiting for months.”

  “The poor captain’s been a bit restless,” said Broom. “A man of action doesn’t like sitting still, right, my wag?” He leaned over and gave the captain a hearty slap on the arm.

  Vaderton smiled graciously. “Precisely.”

  “So that’s why we enlisted his help in doing a read through of my new play.”

  Red gave him a critical look. “Prepare to die? Who actually says that?”

  Broom looked hurt. “It was realistic enough to convince you, apparently.”