A Kingdom Lost

by Barbara Ann Wright

  “Hello, niece,” she said. “Do you like the gift I sent you?”

  Katya drew back. “What is this?”

  “I’m getting very good at this, as you can see”―the girl glanced down as if indicating her own body―“I can be in anyone I want.”

  “You’re not Roland.” It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t transfer himself to another body, not wholly, but the thought turned Katya’s insides into a hard knot. “You’re some kind of puppet.” She pointed to another member of the crowd. “Find the pyradisté Rene. Tell him to meet us in the countess’s tent.”

  Katya started that way, not liking the way the girl-puppet grinned as they walked. Except for her plump cheeks, she was as thin as a rail. Had Roland remembered to tell her to eat, or were such things beneath him now that he was a Fiend? Was there anything of the real girl left to save? The would-be assassin from before hadn’t remembered what she’d done, but at least her old life was still inside her.

  Countess Nadia waved them inside her tent, eyeing the girl-puppet. “I haven’t had the pleasure, Highness.”

  “Neither have I,” Katya said.

  “Oh, come now, niece,” the girl-puppet said as Brutal bound her arms and made her kneel. “You know exactly who I am.”

  “Niece?” Countess Nadia asked. “Do you propose to be the crown princess’s aunt, girl? And who are your parents, hmm?”

  “I have a message for you, niece.”

  “Besides lunging for me in the dark?” Katya asked. “Let’s hear it then.”

  “Wait.”

  Katya blinked. “Pray, what am I waiting for?”

  “Who comes to meet us?” the girl-puppet asked. “Your one pyradisté? Or perhaps an adsnazi? I so look forward to meeting one in my own flesh.”

  “Is that supposed to frighten me?” Katya asked. “That the usurper has heard who we’re traveling with? If he knows about the adsnazi, it should be him who’s frightened.” Though he might also know that the adsnazi were too afraid of using their devastating anti-Fiend weapon.

  “Wait,” the girl-puppet said again.

  “As I’ve said to many a thug,” Katya said, “I don’t need you to talk.”

  Rene bowed into the tent a moment later. “Someone else for me to read, Highness?”

  “As before, anything you get will be useful.”

  He withdrew a pyramid from his pocket. The girl-puppet gave him a wide smile. He paused and seemed as if he’d draw back. Then he glanced at Katya, shook his head, and pressed the pyramid to the girl-puppet’s forehead. She sighed as if under a lover’s caress.

  “Wait,” Katya mumbled. But for what? For this? “Rene…”

  The girl-puppet’s eyes slipped closed as Rene’s brow furrowed. She shuddered, and a bang filled the tent as the girl-puppet burst apart. Blood and gore coated Rene and the carpet around them both, filling the tent with the smell of copper and slaughter.

  Katya staggered back, wiping at the blood spattering her face. Brutal yelled for the guards. Countess Nadia pulled Katya farther away, all the while muttering, “Spirits preserve us.”

  Katya’s eyes were fixed on the tableau before her. The girl’s chest was gone, as if someone had hollowed her out. Rene dropped to his knees—Katya thought from shock—but through the red veneer of ichor, she spied the shards of crystal embedded in his face. He reached for a shard as long as a finger jutting from his neck.

  Brutal yelled, “No,” and darted for him.

  Rene plucked the shard from his flesh, his expression one of wonder as he stared at the blood that jetted from him. Brutal wrapped his hands around Rene’s neck and guided him to the floor, but he was dead within moments.

  Katya stepped forward.

  “Crown Princess,” Countess Nadia said. “I don’t think you should—”

  Katya waved her back. This was what Roland had wanted her to wait for, to see just how good he’d gotten, not only at mind control but at traps. Especially for her one pyradisté, as he’d pointed out. Did he know the Allusians’ aversion to mind magic? Did he know how he’d crippled her ability to cleanse his assassins?

  “Living bombs,” Brutal said as he straightened. “Spirits preserve us, how do we guard against this?”

  Katya shook her head. She’d put it to Leafclever. Maybe he’d give up some of his moral high ground then.

  First, though, she had to report to her parents, but she couldn’t take her eyes off what was left of the girl. Her face seemed tranquil in death. Katya supposed she should look on that as the one blessing here. Roland sent his victims to their deaths happy.

  Katya staggered to the tent flap, just making it outside before she retched.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Starbride

  Starbride was still sagging against the wall when someone knocked. “Come in.”

  Dawnmother smiled wryly. “Good chat?”

  “Chat doesn’t begin to cover it.”

  “So I heard.”

  Starbride winced. “How loud was I?”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think the neighboring warehouse heard you.”

  Pennynail slipped in the door and closed it behind him before he took off his mask to reveal a wide grin. “I expected to find Ellias and Elody in here with you.”

  Starbride swatted at him. “Shut up, Freddie.”

  “Back, lusty wench!” he said. “I just put clean trousers on.”

  Starbride glared at them. “I thought you were supposed to defend me, both of you.”

  “I wouldn’t defend anyone from what I heard,” Freddie said. “In fact, I applaud them.” His gloved hands clapped softly.

  “Enough,” Dawnmother said. “But we are happy for you, Star.”

  “Yes,” Freddie said, “it’s just good to know you’re also very happy for yourself.”

  That time, Dawnmother swatted at him. Starbride rolled her eyes. “Is there news or did you just come in here to poke fun?” She pointed at Freddie. “If you make a joke out of that, I will kill you.”

  He drew himself up. “Then I can only hope my body will fall in such a way as to inconvenience you as much as possible.”

  “So no news, then?” Dawnmother said.

  “No, I’ve got that too,” he said. “Brains and looks and productivity all in one tidy package.”

  “You are in a good mood,” Starbride said. “And not just because of what you…overheard.”

  “The black prince is quite a hit in Dockland, based on what my contacts have to say.”

  “The black prince?” Starbride said. “Is that the name Reinholt’s chosen for himself?”

  “If one wishes to do well in Dockland, one does not choose one’s own nickname,” Freddie said. “Unless one wishes to have the shit kicked out of one.”

  “You’re too pleased with yourself. You started that nickname, didn’t you? Did you also find a way to get yourself called Pennynail?”

  “That was Owen and my father’s idea,” Freddie said. “But I might have gotten ‘the black prince’ off the ground. I also considered his suggestion of ‘the rogue prince,’ but I was afraid that if written down, he might quickly become the rouge prince, and that’s just not the effect we’re going for.”

  Starbride had to laugh. “A good reason to be smug. And the people like the rebel royal persona?”

  “Immensely. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I started a rumor saying that one of the reasons he was expelled from court was for consorting with commoners, maybe even daring to try and marry one after his upper-crust wife called him too common for her taste.”

  Even Dawnmother’s mouth hung open. “That’s all lies!”

  “But useful,” Starbride said. “I don’t know if the truth would win us any allies. What else did he supposedly get thrown out of court for?”

  “The usual. Fights, wenching, carousing, all building on the ‘commoner’ theme.” Freddie scratched his chin. “I, uh, might have also put it out there that his sister was a common collaborator in his…misadventures.”<
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  Starbride narrowed her eyes. “Oh, did you, now?”

  “All over now that she’s found true love, of course,” he said. “Many people already knew Katya’s reputation. I just inflated it a little and stuck Reinholt in. No harm done.”

  Until Katya and her father retook the city and every barmaid in Dockland tossed her hankie Katya’s way. “I’m…I’m just glad things are going well.”

  “Reinholt’s winning them over. He does a pretty speech, and having Maia looking pale and heartbreaking beside him isn’t hurting him any.”

  “It’s not too much for her, is it?” Dawnmother asked.

  “She’s perfectly well,” Freddie said, “if sad. My friends are taking good care of them, and having Reinholt’s arm to lean on and guide seems to be doing her some good. I always thought she’d turn out to be too fragile for the Order, but she’s proven me wrong. She’s been through more than we could imagine, but she’s persevering, like all of us.”

  When someone knocked on the door, Freddie pulled his mask on before Starbride called, “Come in.” She hoped it wouldn’t be someone else come to tease her about her encounter with Katya.

  Master Bernard poked his head around the door. “Captain Ursula of the Watch is here,” he said softly. “She’s asking about mind pyramids, and I don’t quite know what to tell her.”

  “He means,” Ursula said from behind him, “that I’m out here raging about what the damned Fiend king is doing to my officers, and he doesn’t know how to deal with me.”

  “By all means,” Starbride said, scooting farther back on the bed. “Everyone pile in. Why not?”

  Either Ursula didn’t detect the sarcasm, or she didn’t care. She pushed forward, forcing Master Bernard into the room before following him inside. “You really need a bigger space for meetings,” she said.

  “This is the best we can do.”

  “And not for much longer. This waiting for help from the outside was all fine and well a few weeks ago, Princess Consort, but not anymore. You’ve got too many hiding here. I’m hiding several other groups, and now the Fiend king is seducing not only my people, but members of the general public.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure we can wait for the army. They might arrive to find no allies left.”

  “Do you know how he’s getting your people?” Starbride asked.

  “They go into the city, they come back with Fiend king fever, if they come back at all. But I don’t know if he’s got these pyramids set up somewhere or if he’s dragging people into alleys and hypnotizing them himself.”

  “One by one would take too long,” Master Bernard said. “He was getting the monks by bringing them into the palace.”

  “Far as I know, none of my officers have gone anywhere near the palace.”

  “He must have similar pyramids in the city,” Starbride said. “Or maybe he moves them, so we won’t figure out where they are.”

  “But how is he operating them?” Master Bernard asked. “Traps are meant to detonate. Unless the Fiend king is moving himself and using these pyramids.”

  “Have you had any reports like that?” Starbride asked. “The Fiend king roaming the streets hypnotizing people?”

  Ursula shook her head. “But then I wouldn’t, would I? Anyone who saw such a thing would find herself hypnotized.”

  “Some reconnaissance is in order until we’ve crafted more anti-hypnosis pyramids,” Starbride said. “Take a few that we’ve already made, and send some of your officers scouting. If you encounter the Fiend king’s traveling show, be prepared to pretend to be as nutty as everyone else. I’m sure you and Sergeant Rhys can manage.”

  Ursula looked away. “Rhys is among the missing.”

  “Oh, I am sorry,” Starbride said. She didn’t know either of them well, but she’d sensed they were close, at least as colleagues. “We’ll find him.”

  “Needle in a haystack,” Master Bernard said. He glanced at Ursula as if just remembering she was in the room. “My apologies. That just popped out.”

  She smiled sadly. “It’s worse than that. Rhys is a needle in a pile of needles. But if I run across him while I’m looking for the Fiend king, I’ll knock him over the head and bring him to you, Princess Consort.”

  “In the meantime,” Starbride said, “I think we have some research ahead of us, Master Bernard. If the Fiend king is making pyramids large enough to hypnotize the populace, we have to make some large enough to protect it.”

  “It’s a question of crystal,” he said. “We’ve ransacked our caches in the city.”

  “Then we either steal one of the Fiend king’s,” Ursula said, “or it’s back into the palace.”

  Roland would be waiting for them to sneak back into the palace. He’d probably searched it from top to bottom until he’d found Pennynail’s old bolt-hole. That or he’d found a way to seal the secret passageways or cover them in traps. “Better to look in the city. Even if we can’t repurpose the Fiend king’s pyramids, we can destroy them.”

  “When this erupts into a fight, and it will,” Ursula said. “No one is going to be left out of it. Everyone’s going to have to choose a side.”

  “Except for the poor people who’ve had one chosen for them,” Dawnmother said.

  “But some of them will be freed,” Ursula said, “and if they join the fight rather than trying to hide, we’re going to need a way to tell one another apart.”

  “Like colors?” Master Bernard asked.

  “If we were all going about in red,” Starbride said, “the Fiend king will have no trouble finding us.”

  “A sigil, then,” Ursula said. “Something we can hide and then show when the time comes.”

  Pennynail sat at Starbride’s desk and began to draw. After a few moments, he held up a sheet of paper. Starbride looked at the hasty drawing for a moment before it dawned on her what it was: the hawk of Farraday, and in its talons—like Katya’s rose or Reinholt’s crown—it held a pyramid.

  “Is that for me?” Starbride asked. When he nodded, she couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I like it,” Ursula said. “For the Princess Consort’s War.”

  Starbride winced. That wasn’t nearly so flattering. “I don’t know about the hawk. I’m not Farradain.”

  “But the Allusians have no…sigils like that,” Dawnmother said. “Even if we were to draw Horsestrong, no one would know what he meant.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Ursula took the drawing. “I’ll show this around. I trust you can draw it again, hooded man?”

  He nodded. Starbride watched the two of them carefully. Ursula knew Pennynail’s name, though she refused to call him by it. Maybe it was her objection to not knowing who he was.

  “I’ll be in touch.” Ursula left with as little preamble as when she came in. Master Bernard followed her out. When Dawnmother, Starbride, and Pennynail were alone again, he removed his mask.

  “She doesn’t like Pennynail,” Starbride said.

  He sighed. “She’d like the fact that Freddie Ballantine’s alive much less.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Dawnmother asked. “She may take joy in the fact that you’re alive.”

  “You’re a hopeless romantic, Dawnmother. And I can nearly hear you thinking that the most she could do is scorn me. There you’re wrong. The most she could do is stab me.”

  “Well, if you don’t trust yourself to best her in a fight…”

  Freddie glared at her. “That’s not going to work.”

  “I guess we learn by Ursula’s example,” Starbride said. “Head into the city tomorrow and look around.”

  *

  Starbride was confident as they ventured into the city after sundown. They split into two groups: Freddie with Hugo, and Starbride with Dawnmother and Averie. Freddie didn’t want to reveal his identity to Averie, but the two groups patrolled near one another, where a commotion would bring the other group running.

  When Starbride told Averie why they’d split up, she shrugged. �
��I don’t much care. I’ve never really been curious about who he is.”

  Starbride cocked an eyebrow. “Does that mean you don’t care to find out his identity, or that you genuinely wouldn’t care who he was if you found out?”

  “How bad could it be? I mean, he’s not likely to be an infamous murderer or anything, right?”

  Starbride barked a laugh. When Averie frowned, Dawnmother said, “Of course not. How absurd.”

  Maybe she wouldn’t recognize him if she saw his face. It was the best they could hope for. That, and if she did recognize him, maybe she’d turn out to be equally casual. At the very least, Starbride knew Averie wouldn’t give away their identities in order to cause a scene.

  Averie pointed off to the side. “That’s the third hypnotized person I’ve seen on this street. I’ll scout ahead.” She wandered while Starbride and Dawnmother loitered against a storefront.

  When Averie ambled back, she said, “There are definitely more of them up there.”

  “Did you see Roland?”

  “No.” Averie tapped her chest where the mind-protection pyramid was hidden in a pocket. “Would this let me see through a disguise pyramid?”

  “I’m not sure.” Starbride slipped into her pocket for her detection pyramid, one of three pyramids she carried outside her satchel. If she used it to detect an active mind pyramid, and if Roland was near, he would know. But if they had a chance to deactivate or break one of the large mind pyramids…

  “Put your sunny faces on,” Starbride said. Together, they ambled down the street. When they were surrounded by languid faces, she said, “Get ready to run.”

  She focused, and the world faded to muted grays. There, like a beacon, a golden glow lit up the street, pouring out of a tavern.

  Starbride snapped out of her focus. “It’s in the tavern ahead.”

  “Do we go in?” Averie asked.

  “We’ll meet with Hugo and Pennynail and bring at least one of them in with…” Invisible fingers ran up her neck. She’d never felt it, but she’d read about it. Someone was detecting her pyramids. They would find them active not only on her, but on Averie and Dawnmother as well, mind-protection pyramids for them while hers hid the fact that she was a pyradisté from the corpse Fiends.