by Ashley Capes
“Maybe just you, Bren,” he muttered, rubbing at his temples.
Bren prattled on. “I could deal with the Mascare too, you know. They aren’t so powerful. It’s just their precious bone masks. And their robes. All that crimson. They scare people, the faces. And the eyes too. Did you ever meet any, Notch, before you murdered that girl?”
He ignored the last bit. “I’ve seen the Mascare plenty of times.”
“And were they protecting ‘the city, the people and its history’ as they love to claim?”
“Each time?”
Bren laughed. “Ever ask them why they won’t show their faces?”
“They aren’t very talkative, Bren.”
Bren stopped scratching and moved to a spot beneath the window, running a set of cracked fingernails over the stone. “This is my favourite. I think it’s the oldest one.”
The clank of a key in a lock did not deter Bren from his examination, but Notch took hold of the bars again, letting the man’s voice recede into the background. At the far end of their row, the guard, a scruffy man who’d made some effort to straighten his blue and silver uniform, led three figures toward the cell.
“Quiet now, Bren,” he said as the group approached, their footfalls echoing. A slender woman – a Lady no doubt – stopped before Notch’s cell. She was accompanied by a girl and a stony-faced man with broad shoulders, the orange tunic and gleaming breastplate of a Palace Shield in stark contrast with the prison keeper’s appearance. The woman’s hair was pulled back from her face, fanning down around her shoulders and covering the collar of an impeccably clean white dress. Bone earrings swung when she turned her head. A sneer that must have been permanent marred her otherwise smooth face.
Notch adjusted his grip on the bars. To come to Anaskar Prison in such clothing – she was either mighty vain or mighty important. Most likely both. Which meant trouble.
The girl stood in similar attire and shared the sneer but had trouble meeting his gaze.
“Here’s the mercenary, my lady.” The prison guard pointed with his key, making a low bow before scurrying off.
The woman took a single step forward, glaring at him. Her footfall clapped. “Your name?”
He blinked. Her distaste was like a battering ram. “Notch.”
The palace guard bristled and she waved a clean hand at him. “Bring the torch, Holindo.”
“Yes, my lady.” His voice was a rasp.
Behind him, Bren shrunk back into the corner. He did not resume his scraping.
The woman levelled a finger at Notch. “You will address me as ‘Lady Cera,’ or not at all. Now, do not move.”
“Can I ask why, Lady Cera?”
“Because if you do not I will have the Captain here gut you.”
Notch did as he was told. The impulse to wipe her face clean of its expression was strong enough that he had to school his features. Palace folk. Even before he’d taken to the life of a hired sword, they’d looked down their noses at him. ‘Mountain Family’, they’d say to each other and snigger.
When Captain Holindo returned, the soldier thrust the torch forward, catching Notch’s shoulder with his free hand. He narrowed his eyes but said nothing, only adding a crease to his brow. Did Holindo recognise him? Notch couldn’t place the man.
“Be still now,” the solider said.
The flames singed a little of Notch’s hair and he started to sweat. No-one moved or spoke, though the girl he took for Lady Cera’s daughter stared wide-eyed at the blood on his clothing.
“Well?” The Lady snapped. “Look. Is it him? Is that the man?”
“I… I think so, mother,” said the girl.
Lady Cera and her captain shared a glance before she addressed her daughter again, her tones becoming honeyed. “Dear, are you sure? This is the man they caught by her body, in the street on our way from the harbour –”
“It’s hard to tell. I didn’t see him that well.” She met his gaze. “I suppose it could be this man.”
Captain Holindo withdrew the torch. “We have other witnesses, my lady. You’ve done far more than enough by coming here; it will satisfy the Justice. Furthermore, your own daughter identified the prisoner, that’s enough for any man of law.” Such a long string of words strained the man’s voice, and for the first time Notch noticed a long, faded scar crossing his throat.
She gave a short nod. “Truly. I’ve had more than enough of this stench in any event. Take my daughter back to the palace.”
“Of course, Lady Cera.”
He ushered the girl toward the exit. Lady Cera did not follow. “I don’t know the whole truth of what happened. But you are a criminal, of that I have no doubt.”
“Mercenary, Lady Cera.”
“Do you think there’s a difference?”
“There can be.”
“Well, Notch the Mercenary, I will ensure you hang for this. The girl might have only been a pale-skinned, half-blood brat, but I can ill-afford to replace her.”
Notch sneered. “That all she was to you? Something to be replaced?”
She raised her arm but he stepped back.
“Fool.” Lady Cera spun and stormed off.
Notch spat. He was already going to hang, what did it matter if some bone-headed noblewoman wanted him dead? Bren shuffled forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. Notch had forgotten him. “She knows what you are. What we are.”
“You might be right,” Notch said, sitting on the floor and scratching at a new, disturbingly persistent itch in his hair. “But I didn’t kill that girl.”
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Acknowledgements
If you’ve read any of the Never books you know that I like to thank those who help me most and the same people deserve my gratitude this time too - my wife Brooke, my editor Amanda and also David for the formatting, along with all of the Alchemists :)
As before, I also owe thanks to Lin Hsiang for the amazing cover to Imperial Towers and also Vivid Covers for that title work!
And to those of you who have followed Never on his quest across all the books and who still have questions, I hope to return to him one day soon!
Thanks for reading
Ashley
About Ashley
Ashley is a poet, novelist and teacher living in Australia. Aside from reading and writing, he loves volleyball, Studio Ghibli and Magnum PI, easily one of the greatest television shows ever made.
You can find him online at Twitter or on his fiction blog, City of Masks and at ashleycapes for poetry. As if that’s not enough, you can also sign up to his newsletter for free books, competitions, giveaways and sneak peeks of forthcoming titles!
Also by Ashley Capes
Fiction
The Fairy Wren
A Whisper of Leaves
Crossings
Somnus and the March Hare
The Book of Never: Volume 6 (coming 2018)
The Bone Mask Trilogy
1. City of Masks
2. The Lost Mask
3. Greatmask