Lady of Drith

by Chad Huskins

  “To make friends with each generation of Kalderus and then poison them, frame them, hurt them, and kill them?”

  “Yes,” he said, unapologetically. “Yes, exactly that. We all do what we’re told to do, Drea. We follow a pattern. Even you. You could’ve run away when your father told you that you would marry the Imperator, but you didn’t. Because your father told you that was your destiny. It was what you were always meant to be. And you were such a good daughter. You listened to him. You did what he told you.”

  Dustrang snorted.

  “And so what does it matter? Either you’re a broodmare for an Imperator, or a broodmare for House Syphen. You’ll do as you’re told, just as I have. Just as all of us have! Even your friend there,” he added, nodding towards Thryis. “She’ll go to work on the Great Generator tomorrow, as she will do for the rest of her life, all to repay her family’s debts! The debts aren’t even hers, they’ve been inherited from her father’s failed businesses! We’re all just following in the footsteps of our parents’ mistakes, Drea. Don’t you see that by now?”

  Drea just stared down at him. Her rage had cooled now, becoming more silken, more manageable. More focused. She could hear the walls of the mariya shop creaking, being pushed by the wind. Outside, the fellstorm was intensifying.

  “Tell me about the assets that Lord Syphen was speaking of,” she said.

  Dustrang looked at her in puzzlement. “Assets?”

  “Yes. When you sat with him, he said that my marriage to one of his heirs would allow House Syphen to gain access to my family’s remaining assets. What was he talking about?”

  Dustrang sighed wearily. “The only real assets left to you, girl,” he said. “Your family’s share in the Steamwright Collegium, in Stonehold Trade, in all the major companies of Drith.”

  “Why would those shares matter?”

  “Your family were among the original investors decades ago when these companies began their work here in Drith. I don’t know if you know how shares work, but when you invest in a company from the beginning, and that company becomes large and successful, then your shares become worth more. A lot more. And, combined with the shares House Syphen already has in both companies, it would give them a controlling share. It would allow him to be on the Qoria, the council in control of each company.”

  Drea shook her head. “If my father all this, he would’ve told me. He would’ve left it in a will or—”

  “Not if he knew the Hidden Door was after him,” Dustrang said. “Your father…he was crafty enough to know to hide some of his wealth, even allowing House Kalder to become destitute. He decided on a different angle of success—rather than rely on raw wealth, he wanted to keep attention away from himself, and then secretly forge an alliance with the ruler of Drith. Namely, your marriage.”

  Drea thought about the words Izyru Omp used to describe her father. He was a man with a long view of things. He liked to plan ahead.

  Drea nodded, realizing what Dustrang was saying. “But those shares are legally still in my name, only they are frozen in trust to the government, and cannot be transferred to me yet because I’m a woman. Only my husband could legally access our wealth and resources.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But why is it so important that the Hidden Door get control of Drea’s shares?” asked Thryis.

  “The Hidden Door is made up of many families, many spies, but only the Syphenus are fell-sorcerers,” Dustrang said. “The rest of the Hidden Door don’t really care about you, Drea, they just wanted your father out of the way. But Lord Syphen and his heirs…well, they have a unique need.”

  It took a moment for Drea to figure it out, but then it hit her, and once it did, she could have kicked herself for not seeing it before. It had been right in front of her eyes ever since she entered House Syphen. “Stygian stones,” she said. “They require the darklight from within the stygian stones to manage their power and control vehl.”

  “Yes,” Dustrang said. “Now you see.”

  She recalled what she’d read in the book she’d found in the library, the one called The Essence of Stygian. The book had said that there were four types of sorcerous studies: Conduction, Alchemy, Divination, and Cursing. Each type required the powers of darklight, as drawn from only a few sources, most notably the three types of stygian stones.

  But the book had also said that stygian stones, when used, eventually became drained of all darklight.

  “So, someone revealed to my father the Hidden Door’s existence, and then the Hidden Door set out to destroy my father and my mother before they could tell anyone,” Drea said. “Killing me would’ve wiped us all out, but the Syphenus went against the others to keep me alive. Lord Syphen needed me because he wanted to secure his family’s hold in the Steamwright Collegium and Stonehold Trade. He needs a cheap means to get an endless supply of the stygian stones brought into the Street of Stone.”

  Dustrang nodded. “That’s about the sum of it, girl.”

  Drea looked at him, her rage barely kept in check. She thought about grabbing the Old Man from her belt and putting a bullet in Dustrang’s head!

  “Tell me, did Lord Syphen’s nephew know about any of this?” she asked. “Would Daedron have known that my mother and my father were going to be assassinated by the Hidden Door?”

  Dustrang shrugged. “I don’t know, but it seems likely. He’s a gifted Diviner, after all.” He added, “Though, I suppose it’s possible his uncle managed to hide such things from him.”

  “Is Daedron a member of the Hidden Door?”

  “Not to my knowledge. There’s a special swearing-in ritual we perform for all new members, where they pledge total devotion to the Temple of the Hidden Door, but that’s usually done in secret. If Daedron has been sworn in, I wasn’t invited to the ceremony.”

  Drea nodded. “So then, it’s possible that his uncle used some type of sorcery to block Daedron’s vision, to keep him from predicting my parents’ deaths. And it’s also possible that he doesn’t yet know anything about the Hidden Door.”

  “I suppose so,” Dustrang said. “But why should it matter to whether Daedron Syphen is innocent or not?”

  “What other agents of the Hidden Door are you aware of?”

  Dustrang shook his head. “It wouldn’t do you any good to know their names.”

  “Then it won’t matter if you tell me,” Drea reasoned.

  “I can’t…I shouldn’t…”

  Drea turned to face Lady Blackveil, who had been standing by and watching the patriarch of House Dustrang like a hawk. “I have a message for you from Daedron Syphen, but I must tell you in private,” she said. “After you kill this man.”

  The room went silent. All anyone heard was the fellstorm’s thunder.

  Finally, Thryis said, “Drea…blessed goddess, you’re not going to kill—”

  “W-wait,” said Lord Dustrang. “What? What are you saying, Drea? What’s this—”

  Though Drea couldn’t see Lady Blackveil’s face, the green eyes above the veil smiled as she drew her pistol and stepped around Drea and moved over to Dustrang.

  “Wait!” he screamed. “Wait, please—”

  “Drea, don’t do this!” Thryis said, clutching her hands. “Drea, come back to me! Don’t become like them!”

  “Yes, listen to your friend! You don’t want to be like me, Drea! You don’t want to—”

  “Stop!” Drea shouted, just as Lady Blackveil put the barrel of her pistol to Dustrang’s head. He sat there panting, tears rolling down his swollen face. Drea stood in front of him, looming over him like a storm cloud. “You have one more chance, Lord Dustrang. One more chance. Or I swear, by all the gods above and below, I will let this woman commit what black deed is in her heart.”

  Dustrang gulped audibly.

  “Now tell me, what other agents are you aware of?”

  “P-please…please, let me go. Let me go and I’ll tell you—”

  “Say their names, Lord Dustrang!”

/>   Lady Blackveil pulled the hammer back on her pistol.

  “D-D-Det!” he shouted. “Triumvir Harkonex Det. As well as the r-r-rest of the Thirteen Heroes. Senators Grezzit Yorpus, Nippus Titung, Jarkon Ebits, Dariun F-Falgrate and his brothers Bariun and Blarun, Vadorr Denzin, the Skatarri brothers, and W-W-Welhelm Fioriux.”

  Drea shook her head in wonderment. “All of them? All the Heroes?”

  “Yes!”

  “Gods below,” Thryis whispered. “Drea, that’s half the Major Houses in Drith.”

  Drea turned to her. “Yes. That’s a lot of people that must be made to pay.”

  Thryis gave a quizzical look. “Pay?”

  “Thirteen Cowards, I name them all,” she whispered. “Thirteen Cowards that surrounded their leader and murdered him. Thirteen Cowards that hid in the shadows for centuries, colluding, lying, and manipulating. Thirteen Cowards who came to our doorsteps with smiles and friendship, but entered our houses with daggers and poison.” The words came out slowly, as if a solemn prayer.

  “Drea luv, you’re scaring me a little.”

  “They must be done away with.”

  Lady Blackveil showed her approval with a slow nod.

  “But how?” asked Thryis.

  Drea’s mind was racing. There were dots to be connected, plans already half formed. The storm outside agreed with her. “I mean to rip their masks off. I mean to smoke them out.”

  “Drea?”

  “You were right, Thryis. When you came to my door weeks ago and told me that I shouldn’t run, that I should make a stand. You were right. Thank you for your guidance.” She touched one of Thryis’s cheeks, and kissed the other. “I love you, Thryis Ardenk. Will you stand by me? Will you be there when I burn them?”

  “Of course, I will!” she whispered. “Where Drea Kalder goes, Thryis Ardenk is there. Every fool knows this. But…how will you fight them, luv? How can you? These men…they’re so powerful…”

  The gears in Drea’s mind were still turning. The plan had been kind of forming all along, hadn’t it? Yes. Piece by piece, bit by bit. The things she’d learned in the library, the Kalderus rage that lived inside of her, even the teachings of The Way…it had all been slow in coming together in a stew. Seeds had been planted, and now they were blooming. Lady Blackveil had watered them.

  Drea turned to look at the Lady. “Earlier tonight, I had a conversation with Daedron Syphen. He asked me to marry him, but he also knew that I was coming here, and he asked me to give you a message.”

  The Lady said, “You should be careful when trusting a member of House Syphen.”

  “I understand that, but I also know that each of them studies The Way, and I think it has inspired Daedron to overthrow his uncle,” Drea said. “He wants a partnership. He says that if we help him, he’s willing to help us.”

  “What help can he offer?”

  “He says his uncle is a Conductor, a fell-sorcerer who commands vehl. He says that if any of us should go up against Phaedos Syphen, we will surely face an angry demon, one named Ziir. But he swears he knows a way to defeat his uncle and his pet vehl.”

  Drea was just repeating what Daedron had told her, she couldn’t be sure that it was all true. But she believed it was—at least, she believed that Daedron truly wanted his uncle out of the way. What he intended to do with Drea and her friends once they had finished helping him, however, was anyone’s guess.

  One step at a time, Drea told herself.

  “What did you tell Daedron when he asked you to enter into this plot with him?” Lady Blackveil asked.

  “I said that I would convey this message to you, and he said if our answer was yes, that I should accept his hand in marriage and we will make our move against Phaedos Syphen on the day of the Triumverate’s official inauguration, at the Den of Beasts.”

  Blackveil thought about this. “Lord Syphen would be exposed at the arena,” she admitted. “But I still don’t think we should trust Daedron Syphen outright, he could be laying a trap of his own. Or worse, he could be in league with the Host.”

  Drea stepped towards the Lady. “You mentioned him before. Who is he? Who is this Host?”

  The Lady was about to answer when suddenly a loud shriek rent the air. It was unlike anything Drea had ever heard before. It sent chills up her spine, and made the hairs on her arms and neck stand on end. There it came again! Another shriek! Close by, and all around them.

  Lady Blackveil’s eyes went wide. “I should’ve known,” she whispered. And, before Drea or Thryis could react, the Lady spun around, aimed her pistol at Lord Dustrang’s head, and shot him. The two girls screamed and leapt back, shocked by the bark of the pistol and the gory scene of blood.

  “Gods above!” Drea shouted. “Why did you do that?”

  Lady Blackveil bent down over Dustrang’s slumped, lifeless body, and reached into his mouth. She pulled his tongue halfway out, and said, “Curse my eyes, I should’ve known.”

  “What is it?” Drea asked.

  The woman moved out of the way so that they could see. Just on the underside of Lord Dustrang’s tongue, tattooed in black ink, was a strange symbol, one with many dots and strange looping designs.

  “A glyph,” she said. “One that allows sorcerers to track their people should they speak a certain word or phrase. Someone had him cursed. The moment Lord Dustrang spoke the name of the ‘Hidden Door,’ the ones who tagged him with the curse knew he’d been taken, and where.”

  “Who cursed him?” Thryis asked.

  Drea knew the answer. “The Syphenus.”

  “Yes,” Lady Blackveil said, standing up. “And those shrieks you hear? Those are vehl. Lord Syphen is a Conductor, just as Daedron told you, but so is one of his nieces. And they’ve sent out their pet demons to hunt us down.”

  “Which niece?” Drea whispered.

  “I don’t know. My sources only specified that it was one of the three.”

  Drea thought about it for a moment, then said, “It’s Saephis.”

  Lady Blackveil looked at her strangely. “How do you know?”

  “I think she attacked me one night when I returned to my cottage. And I saw…something. A black creature without clear shape or definition. I dismissed it as a nightmare.”

  The Lady nodded gravely. “You saw her vehl, the demon she Conducts.”

  “I think she was trying to frighten me, just toying with me.”

  “She won’t be toying with you tonight,” said the Lady. “If she finds you out here, and connects you to Lord Dustrang’s kidnapping, she’ll sick her vehl on you, and there will be no helping you after that.”

  The Lady opened up the cylinder on her pistol, and dumped the empty shell. She took a bullet from somewhere in the folds of her stola and reloaded the empty chamber, then slapped the cylinder back into place. “We’re in trouble, my little ladies. It’s a good thing you brought the Old Man, you may be needing it.”

  Drea took out the pistol, and hefted it in her hands. It was still warm, still heavy, and still emanating the screams of distant, suffering creatures whenever she touched it. “I have no training…”

  “With the kind of ammunition the Old Man carries, you won’t need training.”

  “But will it help against vehl?”

  “I made the bullets myself. The contents are an alchemical mix called aphotic abyssal,” the Lady said.

  “What does it do?” Thryis asked.

  “It ruins their day,” she said sardonically. “Now come, we have to move.” She opened the door, and when she did, a harsh, cold wind came barging in, bringing in clouds of white flakes. Outside, the snow had risen almost a foot. “Stick close to me. I can put a curse on us, a wardspell of concealment. It will keep us invisible to the Lictors, but not to the vehl.”

  “What if the vehl find us?” Drea asked. “What if we get separated?”

  “If either of those things happens, I’ll draw the vehl to me, and you’ll return as quickly as you can to your cottage.”

 
“But why must Drea return there?” Thryis asked. “Why would she go back to the Syphenus, knowing what she knows now?”

  “Because, my love,” Drea said, touching her cheek, “if I go missing now, Lord Syphen will tear the city apart looking for me. And then he’ll look for anyone I care about.” She kissed Thryis’s lips. “And I cannot lose you.”

  “You won’t,” Thryis said. “Smack all their bottoms, they’ll not take me.”

  Drea smiled. Her hands were shaking. She was afraid, yet also fueled by an uncommon anger. Hearing Lord Dustrang’s confession had driven her mad with passion and ambition. She had to live. She had to survive long enough to see the Hidden Door’s undoing.

  “We have to go,” Lady Blackveil said. “Now!”

  Drea held the Old Man in her right hand, and held Thryis’s hand with her left.

  “What do vehl look like?” Thryis whispered.

  “Trust me, luv,” Drea said. “You’ll know when you see them.”

  Abruptly, another sound pierced the night. This one was more familiar. It was a whistle, one used by Lictors.

  “Lord Syphen has alerted the Lictors,” Lady Blackveil said. “We’ll soon be surrounded by both demons and town guards. We must hurry!”

  Lady Blackveil slinked out into the night. Drea took one last look over her shoulder at the corpse of a man she had once respected, a man that had been a friend of her father’s. Then she pulled Thryis close, kissed her once more, and said, “Are you ready, my love?”

  “I’m ready.” Thryis’s breath came out in chilled white clouds. “Wait, hold on.” She bent down to give her clockwork leg half a wind up. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

  “Let me know if I go too fast—”

  “I can keep up.”

  Drea led her outside, pointing the Old Man at the shadows all around them.

  Lady Blackveil took the lead, one hand holding her pistol while her stone-encrusted hand made gestures in the air, like some kind of sign language. “Follow close,” she said. “If you fall behind, my wardspell cannot conceal you.”