“Call them off,” Jarmis said, a tone of pleading to his voice. “Call them off, Shay.”
Shay was watching the scene unfold. She put her knife away and knelt down to pat Timmons on the head. Then she stood again and looked at Jarmis. “You don’t understand, Jarmis. I couldn’t call them off even if I wanted to. I told you I was never alone on the Plate.”
Then she turned and walked deeper into the alley, ignoring the sounds as the dogpack attacked Lorimer’s men.
Shay looped back at the end of the alley, bringing herself close to the Laurent House’s rear gate again. Jarmis and his men must have been doing the same thing she was, searching for a gate. She looked down the canal again, trying to ignore the snarls and screams from the life-and-death struggle taking place just down the street.
There was a single dog standing by the canal, barking loudly. But not facing the alley, where the fight was. Not joining her sisters and brothers. She was facing the waters, barking hard. The strays never barked. It only summoned fists and rains of garbage. Never help. Shay walked towards the dog, not particularly wanting to see what was going on in the alley, which had quickly fallen silent.
She looked out into the canal. Her first thought was that somehow a pack of threshers had gotten past the canal gates by the harbor. Fins rose out of the water, too many to count. Then she realized it was the Sunken, swimming forward, their darkines warning of approaching danger. They were returning to the top of the Plate, returning to the Laurent House with the setting sun.
Shay turned and ran for the Palace as fast as she could.
Chapter 31. The Two Will Rise
“What’s he doing now?”
Aaron and Jon had met Jenner outside the sitting room which held the Sunken messenger.
“He’s in there, just waiting,” Jenner replied. “Staring at the fire like he’s never seen one before.”
“And he asked for me?” Aaron said.
“You and the Queen. She called in Lorimer. Cal got here a few minutes ago. It’s almost sunset. If he’s really got something to say, he’ll say it soon.”
“Did you find out how he got in?” Jon asked.
“No. And that worries me. The night of the full moon and a Sunken just walks in untouched.”
Jon nodded, a troubled expression on his face, then pushed past the others to open the door.
The sitting room was hot. There were guards in every corner. Cal was hovering near the bar at the back, looking like he was itching to pour his first drink of the evening. Nalani and Miriam were with him. Lorimer was stuffing more logs onto the fire. The flames were fierce and looked to be making the messenger uncomfortable.
The old Sunken was seated in a large, red chair near the fire with a view out the window. He flinched as sparks flew from the fireplace, stirred by Lorimer’s rough poking. Lorimer held a dark grin as he watched the Sunken’s reaction. The Queen was seated across from the visitor from below the Plate, her steely gaze fixed on him.
Jon made his way to the Queen and spoke a few quiet words in her ear, Lorimer turning from the fire to watch suspiciously. Aaron gave Cal a nod, then walked up to the Sunken messenger.
“I’m Aaron Lorne, Syndicate of Delhonne Corvale.”
“I was told to verify you are who you say you are. I was told to ask what hand you held when Cornett Ungale won the wine from you.”
“A pair of sixes.”
The Sunken nodded and sank back into the chair. “You are younger than I expected,” he said. “My name is Bayou Ungale. I bear no weapons. I bear a message only.”
“Did Locke send you?” Aaron asked.
The Sunken didn’t answer, only gesturing towards the window. “It will be time soon.”
Aaron felt the Queen’s presence at his shoulder. “You’ve found time to play cards with them?” she said in an irked tone. To the messenger she said, “We are both here. The sun is setting. Tell us what you came here to tell us.”
The Sunken looked out the window and gave a slow nod, almost of reluctance. “I will relay the message.”
“About time,” Lorimer grunted under his breath.
“Do not interrupt,” the Sunken fired him a dark look as he stood. “I am to relay this once, in the presence of Queen Cassandra Olmont and Aaron Lorne. I will not repeat myself.” He looked around the room. “The conditions are set.”
He began formally, addressing the Queen and Aaron, “My name is Bayou Ungale. I bear no weapons. I bear a message only. I was sent here to speak with you and tell you of the return of House Gale. The Gale were driven off the Plate for their crimes. Their cruelty was a threat to the people of Surdoore. That threat was never eliminated, only locked away out of sight. In the prison we share with them, they never relinquished their ways. They oppressed any not of their bloodline or of unflinching loyalty. As the tides came and went, we changed. We of the Ungale became as you see me know, weak and weathered. The Gale remained strong and cruel. And they never gave up the dream of return and dominion over the Plate, as House Gale believes is their blood-right. They bided their time, and now are finished waiting.
“There are two jobs that must be completed tonight, this night of the full moon. The Sunken Lord Grinwell Gale VII and the Sunken Odell Gale both will surface tonight, if they haven’t already. Separately. Each with their own army. The alliance between the two has been broken. Neither can survive below in the midst of a war, even if they had the patience to endure one. They have no alternative but to take their battle to you. They will do so tonight.
“Lord Gale holds the gates in the center of the city. We do not know the locations of all the gates. He covets a return. He will strike at the heart of the Plate. He must be stopped. He brings nothing but death and destruction. He knows nothing but tyranny.
“Odell holds the paths to the harbor and he will have access to them with tonight’s tide. It was Odell who kidnapped the princess. And now he covets something else. He seeks your dragons. He would leave the Plate on the back of a dragon, preferably with his army flying beside him. We do not know where he would go, what arrangements have been made, but Odell is a force of evil. He must be stopped. We do not know where Gale will surface, but we know Odell’s target. It is the same target that led him to the Laurent House. The same target which drew him to the Club Diamond. He seeks one man, the man who holds the keys to the only dragon army on the Plate.”
Aaron turned away from the Sunken, looking back towards the bar where Nalani sat. She met his eyes and nodded.
The Sunken messenger carried on. “Odell seeks Anders Dentrick, the Captain of Camron Air. He will kill him and claim the loyalties of his dragons. You will find Odell where you find Anders Dentrick.”
Aaron ran through the Sunken raids in his head. There had been two he knew of. The night they’d flown into Surdoore they’d taken the Laurent House. Anders had skipped that party to meet the SDC dragons on the plateau, had even mentioned missing a social event. And the Club Diamond. Anders had been late arriving there, Nalani preceding and expecting him. The Sunken messenger spoke the truth. Odell had been hunting and tonight may be his last chance. He would head towards the Camron Air headquarters looking for his prey.
“You will wish to know who sends this message. I speak for Locke Ungale. Aaron Lorne has met him and can verify his identity. Locke anticipates you will question whether the message can be trusted. He assures you the words are true. If you delay your actions, one or both of your enemies will accomplish their goals. If you act swiftly, you can stop Odell. And you can save the princess, assuming she is still alive.”
“What do you mean, assuming?” the Queen broke in.
“I asked for silence,” the aged Sunken said. “I will finish my message. I will not repeat it.” He glared around the room for a moment before resuming. “Assuming she is still alive. Gale will either kill her below or bring her with him when he surfaces. If he has the means, we anticipate the latter. She will be a trophy and a bargaining chip.
“You will q
uestion Locke’s motivation. He has asked me to speak to it. He protects the Ungale, his people. The Gale House has placed us under their feet. Suffering their ambitions has made life under the Plate far worse than it need be. They have killed or enslaved every Ungale within their reach. Women, children. They have tortured and maimed and slaughtered those not of House Gale. And now we see a chance to thwart their ambitions. Let them die up here, under the moon. Worry not on the Ungale. We will be of no bother to you. We wish peace. Lord Gale and Odell bring war, and they are coming. You two are positioned to stop them. Do so. That is all.”
Several voices rose as the Sunken sat back down. He was peppered with questions, all of which he ignored.
Lorimer held his hands up, quieting the others. “Why delay telling us this until the sun set?” he asked the Sunken messenger.
The Sunken stared at the fire. He gave no answer.
“I can guess why,” Jon said. “Locke wants them out from under the Plate. He wants us to fight his war. Why should we care who holds the underside of the Plate?”
“We don’t care,” Aaron said. “But he’s right. We care about getting the princess back. And we care about stopping Odell. Not to mention the lives of everyone else atop the Plate. So we have no choice.”
The room fell into a contemplative silence, broken only by the sounds of Cal trying to quietly pour himself a drink behind the bar. The Queen turned to glare at him.
“What?” Cal said, taking a sip. “I call Gale.”
The Tide of the Sunken
Chapter 32. A Divided Course
The moon drew the tide in and the harbor levels rose, edging up the Plate. With the full moon in place, the threshers sank low, drawn by whatever curiosity, fear, or need called them to deeper waters. The path to the harbor opened, and Odell and his loyal Sunken swam out from under the Plate and looked towards their target. The archer towers which framed it were brightly lit by the moon.
The few sailors out in the dark, late in mending their last nets of the day, saw the cluster of darkines rising out of the waters like shark fins. They packed their tools with greater haste than usual and headed for home, where they would tell tales to their children that night of the dark creatures that lurk the harbor. The kind of tales told only behind carefully locked doors.
Away from the harbor, the tide brought the canal waters, already bloated with rain, to their banks. Gale’s Sunken army made their way from the canal into the Laurent House. The back alleys were quiet, wrapping the nightmares which rose from the waters in darkness. With doors locked and curtains drawn against the rain, few of the residents of the neighborhood saw anything, only wondered at the barking of the dogs that came with the moon’s rise.
…
Messengers raced in all directions from the Palace, spreading the clatter of hooves through the otherwise quiet streets. Rousing the Camron Militia would take time, its forces dispersed. The City Guard had already been informed of the threat but would likely offer little support in the coming struggle. Their salaries were small and almost universally supplemented by noble families. Knowing where their money came from, many would head off to protect the wealthy rather than serving the interests of the Ghost Queen, who was far from universally beloved.
The room swiftly divided. Shay had arrived, bearing the location of Lord Gale’s surfacing. Given the painfully slow response expected from the Milita and City Guard, Cal would get his wish and be a part of a rescue team led by Sleepy Jon, their mission the princess and Gale. One to save and one to kill. Shay would lead them, along with Jenner and a small group of other Queen’s Guards, back to the Laurent House.
Lorimer listened in on the conversation, then promptly vanished. Jon watched him quietly leave, certain that Lorimer would make his own way to the Laurent House. Not certain whether it was good or bad for their efforts that he went alone.
The Queen would stay in the Palace with her daughter, surrounded by high walls and guards, though those hadn’t stopped the Sunken before.
That left only Aaron, Miriam, and Nalani to deal with Odell. Nalani gripped Cal’s hand, extending a quiet invitation to meet at her place later. Aaron and Cal didn’t bother saying goodbye to each other. They’d parted a thousand times, and communication had never been what kept them aligned these long years. Still, as Aaron watched his friend’s back, the words of the note he found in Madame Jane’s apartment came back to him, uninvited and unwelcome. One will win. One will lose.
…
Bayou Ungale stayed before the fire. Four guards remained at the corners of the room, so quiet they might have been statues. The Queen had left in a hurry with the Corvale and the others. She had spared no orders about him, tacitly giving the aged Sunken permission to remain where he was and stare at the fire, this short mission at the end of his long life complete. So he waited for the end he knew was coming.
The fire was beginning to die when it finally arrived, when he felt a distant hand fall upon him. Slowly, water was filling his throat, robbing him of breath, rising up from somewhere deep within, or from someplace deep below him. Bayou had known death was the price of this message. He could not return and he could not remain. This was the only way, and a path he’d agreed to willingly. It had been good to watch the fire, taste the wine. His bones were tired, his flesh exhausted from a life of struggle under the Plate. It was time. He was ready to die.
Bayou Ungale could not speak his final words as the water spilled out of his mouth and through his nose, as his breath failed and the fire dimmed before his eyes, but they were heard anyway, somewhere deep below. “Have a safe journey, my Lord.”
Chapter 33. Return to Gale’s Court
Shay led their group swiftly through the dark streets. The falling rain pressed down on the streetlamps and ran thick through the gutters lining the quiet houses. It was a night to be inside and most of Surdoore obliged. The streets were empty aside from stray dogs occasionally poking wet heads out of the alley mouths, eager to approach Shay but held back by the smell of steel surrounding her.
Cal fondled his sword hilt with one hand as they passed among the shadows, thinking about Gale’s fist scraping across his flesh, fanning the flames of his anger. The Laurent House was not far and if Gale thought to come out and play above the Plate, Cal was glad to be part of the welcoming committee. He looked around, coldly cataloging his assets. Jon, Finn, Shay. Jenner, face grim, his chance for redemption closer than ever before. Those were the ones who wouldn’t break in terror when faced with an enemy like the Sunken. The five Queen’s Guard under Jenner’s direction, Cal was less certain of. The Sunken were a children’s story that struck fear into the hearts of those who lived above the Plate. He’d seen that fear in the captives from the Club Diamond. He hoped his allies were made of tougher stuff.
Cal thought back to Gale’s court below the Plate, the numerous soldiers lounging. He had an army at his beck and call. If Locke had been telling the truth about the schism between Gale and Odell and the army had been split, it was fair to think Gale’s numbers suffered. Still, he might have as many as thirty or forty with him. Plenty to overrun the small rescue party and help them find their way onto hooks.
He watched Sleepy Jon as the large man passed under a streetlamp. Jon’s hat kept the green light off his face, but Cal could recognize the worried set of his mouth. He would have tallied the numbers as well. And factored in the time the Sunken had to set defenses in place. Their blindness as to Gale’s intentions regarding the princess. Would he truly keep her close? Was that a boon or a liability? Was this whole exercise just a trap, a quiet agreement between Gale and Locke of uncertain motivation?
One thing was clear, humming in Cal’s head with a quiet anger. His primary objective had nothing to do with the princess. He wanted Gale. He wanted him broken on the floor in front of him. He wanted to smash his darkine into a million pieces and feed them to him.
Shay raised a hand and the group melted into the shadows. A closed gate stood at the end of the street, th
e only dark house in the long row of ornate, well-lit estates. The group gathered in an alley, shifting to avoid the spots where pooled rains streamed from the gutters above. Shay gave Jon a meaningful look and he nodded. Then she was gone, leaving the rest to wait.
Cal lit a cigarette, head held low to keep it from the rain, letting the smoke burn his eyes. He watched Jon study the Queen’s Guards the way a gambler might study horses at a race, the whole time water streaming out of the folds of his tricorn hat. Eventually Jon turned to Cal, giving him a long look. He turned back towards the alley mouth, whatever conclusions he’d reached about Cal kept to himself. From the other end of the alley, a stray dog strolled from the shadows, looked over the group, then retreated. They waited.
Then Shay was back at the alley mouth, beckoning them forward. She led them around through a different set of alleys until they faced a brick wall ahead of them, not much taller than a man. She drew close to Jon, and Cal cheated towards them to hear what she had to say.
“They’ve got guards at the front and back gates, but most of them look to be inside. No rotations and no lights. Doesn’t look like they’re expecting company this soon. There’s a blindspot here.” She pointed to the wall ahead of them. “We might get to the side door of the main house unobserved.”
Jon took his hat off for a quick look over the wall, gracefully hoisting his bulk up. When he dropped lightly back down to his feet, he nodded. “Good. Which way will be easier to clear for a quick exit?”
“The front,” Shay said. “They came through the back. And there might be fresh traffic from the canal.”
“Okay, I’ll take the armor through the side. Keep Finn with you. If we’re spotted trying to make the house, clear out the front gate guards and we’ll set our back to that wall, see what they’ve got to bring to bear. If we make the house without raising an alarm, get as close as you can to the front gate guards. When you see us come out, cold or hot, take them down and clear the path.” He looked up at the wall. “Now get a little farther down. If we attract some attention going over, we might need a quick distraction.”
Alliance of the Sunken (Spies of Dragon and Chalk Book 3) Page 21