Then she pushed past that. She gritted her teeth. She drew on the Void.
She commanded it.
She felt the grip of the Twin-bladed Knife coalesce in her hand. Immediately, it felt as though her magical arm had been dipped in a warm bath, and the lightness of the large dagger, in reality more like a short sword, was both surprising yet instantly familiar. She turned the blade in the air, watching how the polished golden metal flashed with orange, the reflection of a fire from another time, another place.
Billie couldn’t resist a grin. “I have to say… I’ve missed this feeling. Thanks.”
The other Billie joined her past self with a grin. “Rocks in a stream, Billie Lurk. Rocks in a stream.”
Billie flipped the Twin-bladed Knife around and it dematerialized in a blur of golden light. She twisted her fingers, and the weapon reappeared.
“Find a way of stopping the Queen,” said the other Billie.
“What will you do?” Billie asked her, as the Twin-bladed Knife returned to the Void.
Her future self pointed at the rift. “I’ve still got a lot to do, trust me. I’ll try to hold time together for as long as I can, but it’s relative—the faster you act, the better it will be, for the both of us.”
“Good luck,” said Billie. Her other self nodded in acknowledgement, then stepped through the portal. Billie was alone once more.
It was time to end this. And yes, it was true, she couldn’t do it on her own. The key, it seemed, was finding out where the Queen was keeping her artifact. And there was someone else in the palace with a keen interest in philosophy, both natural and supernatural.
It was time to interrogate King Briam.
26
HOUSE OF THE FOURTH CHAIR, NEAR ALBA
Date unknown, Month of Darkness, 1853
Dawn was breaking as Billie emerged from the crypt back into the main part of the palace. But despite the hour, the building still seemed deserted—even more so, because as she headed toward the Great Hall, there were no constables on duty at all.
That was strange, but Billie wasted no time. She had to find the King, and find out what he knew about what his wife—his former enemy—was plotting in the House of the Fourth Chair. He “dabbled”, as he put it, in natural philosophy, and had more than a passing interest in magic. Billie thought back to the papers on the table in the Great Hall. The blueprint that looked more like a tomb than anything else.
A new, empty tomb.
The King would tell her everything he knew, or Billie would exsanguinate him.
Billie raced down the corridor. She was fairly sure the large double doors ahead—set with gilt woodwork, and arched at the top—led back to the Great Hall. That was a start. Perhaps the King was still there, poring over the papers.
But before she reached them, the doors were flung open. She came to a halt, body turned sideways, ready to react to whatever was coming, the Twin-bladed Knife already singing in her hand.
They marched out, four men, one woman, all of them with pistols raised and trained on her. But they were not wearing the green jackets and red caps of the Royal Morley Constabulary. These newcomers wore plain black uniforms, devoid of any insignia, and had sharply creased garrison caps set at a precise angle on their heads.
The Leviathan Company.
Billie raised her hands, ignoring the shouts of the Leviathan soldiers to drop her weapon. Instead, she focused her attention on the sixth member of their party, who had calmly followed them from the Great Hall, hands clutched behind his back. He stopped in the doorway, unhooked one hand, and smoothed down his thin red hair, as though the furious actions of his people were ruffling him. He took the opportunity to adjust his square glasses, staring expressionlessly at Billie, then turned smartly on his heel, clicking his fingers as he did.
“Bring her,” said Severin.
Billie finally surrendered to the wildly gesticulating Leviathan guards. Although between them they had five guns aimed at her, they kept their distance, circling her as she walked forward like she was electric. She kept her hands above her head, the Twin-bladed Knife firmly in her grasp. None of the agents seemed inclined to try to wrestle it off her, for the moment. Billie saw the gaze of one of them—a young black woman with tight, wiry hair tied back under the cap—on the Knife, rather than on her prisoner.
Billie followed Severin through the arched doorway, into the Great Hall. There were more Leviathan agents inside, a whole platoon of them. They were spread out, covering the doorways that previously the Royal Morley Constabulary had guarded.
Billie wondered if something had changed since she had emerged from the Void. Had time been altered, despite the efforts of her future self to undo the damage caused by the Queen’s shadowy projection?
Severin came to a halt by the big dining table and, to Billie’s surprise, clicked his heels together and raised his hand, giving the salute customary to the constabulary.
“The prisoner, Your Majesty,” said Severin, before snapping his heels together again and stepping to one side, revealing to Billie the person sitting at the table.
It was King Briam. He was, as usual, holding a silver goblet in his hand, but there was a clarity to his bright, sparkling eyes, and as he stood, he grinned cruelly, his teeth stained red from the drink. The effect, in combination with his black goatee and sunken, pallid cheeks, was not of a noble king, but a creature from a fireside story, the ghoul who lurked under the bed. The papers were still spread out on the table in front of him. Billie’s eye was drawn again to the central blueprint of the tomb-like object.
“Billie Lurk,” said the King, rising from his chair and walking slowly toward her. Severin kept behind the King, his hands behind his back, his face as unreadable as ever. “The spanner in the works,” the King continued, sipping slowly from his goblet. “Or perhaps a tool to be wielded.”
Billie held her breath. Then, with a glance at her captors, she took a step forward. Immediately, her guard escort began screaming at her to stand still, and she did, but not because of the order. They used this technique to instill fear into those who opposed them. Billie was not easy to intimidate, and she had no time to humor them.
“Your Majesty,” she said, “you need to listen to me, and listen carefully.”
“The prisoner will be silent!” snapped Severin. Again, the voice was strong, strident. It had absolutely no effect on Billie. She lowered her chin, fixing the King with her human eye.
“We need to work together,” she said, trying a different tack. “Because there is an evil at work in your house. I need your help to stop it.”
The King looked at her, the sick grin still plastered on his face. His eyes flickered between Billie’s human eye and the Sliver. He sipped his drink.
“It is still linked to the Void, isn’t it?” Briam gestured with his goblet to Billie’s face. “A piece of the eye of a lost divinity. A unique artifact. One that will be of great use, I’m sure.”
The King glanced at Severin, who gave a nod. “It may be the missing piece you need to complete the experiment.”
Briam smiled. “You will learn how to control it?”
“My workshops will analyze it,” Severin said. “Once we have derived its magic, we will be able to control it, yes.”
Billie shook her head, looking at both them. “You need to listen to me. The Queen has an artifact of her own, an object—”
“That allows her to project herself into the Void and across the barrier of time?” said the King. He took a sip of his drink, feigning complete disinterest. “That’s partly correct. The Queen is projecting herself into the Void, but the artifact is not hers. It is mine.”
Billie’s heart started to race. Had she got it so wrong?
“I don’t understand.”
“No,” said the King, “I expect you don’t.” He looked at Severin. “How long will you need?”
Severin’s expression didn’t flicker. “Forty-eight hours, if it can be spared. Thirty-six may be sufficient.”
; Billie glanced around at her guards. Five of them—maybe she could take them out. But the Great Hall was full of dozens more. She met the eye of the female guard, who just…
Nodded at her? Billie froze. The guard didn’t repeat the gesture, but she did move an eyebrow. Billie got the message. Did she know her? Billie racked her brains, but didn’t come up with anything. She’d traveled widely, dealt with a lot of people in her time, and she knew that the Leviathan Company had recruited from all over the Isles. Was it possible they knew each other?
“We’ve waited this long,” said the King. “Take forty-eight. In the meantime, I want to study that.”
He held out his hand. Billie frowned at him, then realized what he was referring to. Around her, the guards adjusted their aims.
Billie sighed. She gently—and very, very slowly—lowered her arms. The guards shifted on their feet, ready for anything.
The King smiled as Billie turned the Twin-bladed Knife in her grip, and held it out toward him.
He barked a laugh, and took the handle. As soon as he touched it, Billie saw his eyes go wide, the smile on his face changing into an expression of surprise.
The Knife tended to do that. She could imagine how it felt—as light as air, the grip buzzing with an almost imperceptible vibration, the twin blades themselves shiny and sharp and, if you turned them just so, flashing with red and orange, as if they were reflecting the moving light of a great inferno.
“The weapon of legend,” said the King, turning it just as Billie had thought he would, his gaze lost in the reflections. He glanced at Severin. “Perhaps I won’t need your army after all, eh?”
Severin said nothing. The King continued to weave the blade in the air, and then his eyes flicked up to meet Billie’s gaze. He raised the Knife until the point was aimed at her throat, and poked it into her neck. Billie lifted her chin as she felt a thin trickle of blood run down her skin.
The King’s eyes narrowed. “But you didn’t arrive at the House of the Fourth Chair with this, did you? It’s a little hard to conceal.” He paused and cocked his head. “Where did you get it? Was it hidden in the Void, perhaps?”
Billie focused on the King’s face. The blade moved a fraction of an inch down her neck, the twinned tips nicking her skin.
“And now you have lost your voice, it seems,” said the King. “A pity, given you were so interested in talking just a moment ago. Never mind.”
With that, he pulled the blades away from Billie’s neck, then lifted the weapon until it was pointing at the Sliver. “You won’t need to take her back to your workshops, Severin,” he said. “I’ll cut this object out of her head now for you.”
Billie tensed, ready to fight for her life.
That was when the big double doors of the Great Hall were flung open, and a tremendous wind rushed into the room. The Leviathan guards turned as one to face the intrusion, soldiers from all over the hall abandoning their posts and moving to cover the main doors with their weapons.
It was no use. Of Billie’s guard, the four men were swept into the air by the dusty, particulate form of the Queen’s Shadow as it swirled around them, breaking their bones in midair before flinging them to the far corners of the hall. The female guard was already down on the floor, scrabbling backward, safely out of the way of the Shadow’s wrath.
Billie knocked the King’s arm away, but he managed to keep hold of the Twin-bladed Knife. She spun around, ready to face what was coming, but was herself thrust aside as the Shadow rushed the table. Billie was flung against the wall and bounced onto the floor, face down. By the time she pushed herself up, it was too late.
She watched as the Shadow grabbed the King and lifted him into the air, one long, sharp claw made of nothing but dust and darkness holding him by the throat, while the other grabbed him by the wrist of the hand holding the Twin-bladed Knife. Billie moved forward, only to be immediately thrown back by another gust of wind. There was a crack, and the dining table split down the middle, the two halves collapsing together onto the floor.
The King and the Shadow vanished.
Billie staggered forward, bracing herself at the broken V of the table, looking around. A good three-quarters of the Leviathan soldiers had been done for by the Shadow, and the remainder groaned insensibly as they struggled to right themselves after the sudden, tornado-like onslaught.
The Shadow had the King—and the King had the Knife.
Billie had a very bad feeling about that.
And then there was a click, metal on metal, and Billie felt the cold end of a pistol pushed into the back of her neck.
“Don’t move,” said Severin from behind her. “And put your hands where I can see them.”
Billie slowly held her hands up. She glanced over her shoulder.
“I said don’t move!”
Billie pushed her luck, slowly turning to face him. Severin hissed in annoyance, but he stood back, keeping the gun pointed at her. He looked a mess—his thin hair was swept to one side, revealing most of his head to be bald, and one lens of his glasses was cracked, the frame sitting unevenly on his nose. His face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily.
The cool, logical, emotionless Severin was rattled.
Billie shook her head. “Now what?”
A flicker of a frown crossed Severin’s features, but he was fighting hard to control his expression. He paused for a moment, apparently contemplating the meaning of Billie’s question, trying desperately to claw the situation back under his control. Eventually, he rolled his neck and stood a little taller.
“You are my prisoner,” he said.
“It’s a little late for that, Severin,” said Billie. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we’ve got bigger problems here. Your boss was just taken by the one thing the Leviathan Company has no control over.”
Severin grimaced, like he was in pain, but it was clear he was still trying to understand the situation.
“That’s not true,” he said. “The Queen is the experiment, and the experiment is under the King’s guidance—”
“The King’s experiment,” spat Billie, “has just taken over. And now she has a new artifact of her own. My knife.”
Billie took a step forward, and Severin took a step back. Around the room, those Leviathan guards who were still alive had managed to get back to their feet and were watching the tense situation, exchanging glances, hands hovering over weapons. But so far, nobody was doing anything. Billie was willing to bet they’d never seen their commander-in-chief in this kind of situation, and his clear display of emotion was something strange and unnerving for them.
Severin’s lips moved silently, clearly still trying to reconcile events in his own mind, when there was another click as a second pistol’s safety catch was deactivated.
“Drop it,” said a voice from behind Severin. Billie glanced over. The female guard now had Severin at the end of her pistol. Behind his big glasses, his eyes darted to one side, straining to see what was going on.
The guard looked at Billie. “Martha Cottings, at your service.” Then she smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”
Billie stared at her. The name meant nothing.
Severin sighed, and lowered his weapon. Martha—whoever she was—ducked forward and pulled the gun out of his hand, and stuffed it in her belt. She nodded at Billie.
“Just tell me what to do.”
Billie was aware that time was ticking rapidly away. She had to get to the King and Queen—wherever they were.
She turned back to Severin. “I think you know more about what’s going on than you’re saying.”
Severin looked up at her, but he said nothing, his lips firmly pressed together.
“The Leviathan Company is run by the King, isn’t it?”
At last he spat out a breath. “I don’t have to answer to you,” he said.
Billie ignored him. “Do you know where he’s been taken?”
At this, Severin glanced at the floor. Billie frowned at the top of his h
ead, racking her brains.
Her future self hadn’t been able to locate the Queen’s artifact, the arcane object the King had been using to project the shadowed form of the Queen into the Void—until, at least, the Queen had broken out of his control.
Then Billie remembered the vision she’d seen through the rift as the Shadow had pulled her along. The crypt, and the empty tomb. The same, but different. Another Void hollow.
Except…
Billie moved over to the split table. In the middle sat the King’s blueprint of the tomb—of half a tomb.
The crypt, and the empty tomb.
Except it wasn’t this crypt. It was the other crypt. The one in—
“Hey, hands where I can see them!” Martha shouted. She gestured with her gun at Severin. Billie glanced down and saw the man was reaching for the pouches on his belt.
Reaching for the runes.
Billie grabbed Severin’s wrist, and pulled his arm up, but the small man was surprisingly strong and the angle between him and Billie wasn’t quite right, giving him the advantage. Grimacing with effort, he went with the movement, throwing Billie momentarily off-balance, allowing himself to yank his hand out of her grasp.
Billie cried out.
Someone fired a gun.
And then the room spun anticlockwise and Billie was plunged into an infinitely cold darkness. A moment later, the spinning stopped.
She looked around. She was still in the Great Hall, but it wasn’t the Great Hall in the House of the Fourth Chair. Or rather, it was… just not the one she had been standing in moments before. The huge dining table was perfectly intact, and there were no papers on it.
She was also suddenly alone with Severin.
This was the other place. The other version of the world, reflected through the Void, a ghostly afterimage stretched out in the unimaginable, unfathomable interstitial space between the real world and the Void.
The Hollow.
Billie snapped her attention back to Severin. She made to reach for him, but with a snarl he bolted for the main doors.
Billie ran out after him.
27
Dishonored--The Veiled Terror Page 20