by Kyra Halland
Easy for him to say; she wanted more proof than that. “What did they say?”
He furrowed his eyebrows together in thought. “I don’t remember word for word; it’s been quite some time. The first one said that the situation was worse than anyone realized, and he shouldn’t trust anyone. The second told him to take you and go as far away as possible. At that time, we had learned of Madam Lorentius’s plans for you.”
Close enough. If he’d been able to recite the messages word for word, she would have suspected him of memorizing them in order to trick her. And his reason for sending the second note fit with what her grandmother had said the other day. “So how come they got the message I sent from his Hidden Council box instead of you?”
“I was forced to abandon that box when I went into hiding.”
That made sense as well. Still, she decided not to trust him beyond agreeing to hear him out. Whether she continued to trust him after that would depend on what he said and her gut feeling. “All right, then. What do you want?”
“There are a few of us left – a very few – who still uphold the ideals of the original Hidden Council. One of our number volunteered to pretend loyalty to the new Council, in order to keep us informed of what they’re doing. That’s how we learned that Vendine had been captured by those scoundrels who took over the Council and about his unfortunate condition, and that you were in the city. At this very moment, arrangements are being made to help you rescue your husband tomorrow night.”
That caught Lainie’s interest. “What’s the plan?”
“For the protection of all concerned, I cannot tell you the details, but I will come back for you tomorrow night near the end of the second quarter of the night, and we will retrieve your husband. As for what was done to him, among our numbers is a mage who is highly skilled in healing who will do her best to restore your husband to full health.”
A man who wouldn’t tell her his name, a plan with details she wasn’t allowed to know, Come with me at midnight and we’ll work a miracle for you… Lainie’s suspicions, already raised, prickled even more. “Why should I trust you?”
“As I said, Mrs. Vendine, you are wise to be cautious. These days, it seems that treachery lurks around every corner. But there are so few of us left who believe in Plain rights and freedoms, and we cannot afford to allow anything to happen to Silas Vendine. He is far too valuable to our cause.”
He knew about the messages. At the time that he sent them, at least, he had still been loyal to the original Hidden Council. Had he turned since then? She didn’t know. But, remembering the raw fear in Silas’s eyes, his confusion and pain, Lainie knew she had to give this a try. She wouldn’t trust this man, not one bit, she would keep her gun loaded and be ready for trouble, but on the off-chance his story about a plan to rescue Silas was true, she would go along with it. It was more than she’d been able to come up with on her own so far. If nothing else, maybe she could gather some helpful information. “Okay,” she said. “I guess that’ll do for now.”
“Near midnight, then. Down the street from the hotel. I will be waiting in my carriage.”
“I’ll be there,” she said, and he got up and left.
* * *
THE REST OF that day and the next dragged by. Lainie tried not to get her hopes up that this would work, but over and over she imagined being with Silas again, seeing him healed of the damage that had been done to him, holding him in her arms, kissing away the fear and pain while he kissed her and held and comforted her in turn. To make the waiting more bearable, she cleaned her gun and made sure it was in good working order, exercised Abenar and Mala, who were doing well under the attentive care of the Bayview’s hostler but were still glad to see her, and read, and tried to make the hours go by faster through the sheer force of her will. She wanted to get out of the hotel for a walk; she hated being stuck in one place with so much restless, anxious energy to burn, but with the Mage Council and the Hidden Council both out to get her, it was better to lay low.
She had seen signs in the hotel pointing to a rooftop garden, so on the second day she climbed the stairs up to the roof, taking her map with her. The garden was a flat part of the roof, like a balcony, in front of the pitched part, facing east towards the bay. There were flowers and even small trees growing from pots, and a few benches arranged among them. A wrought iron railing, high enough that it would be hard to fall over on accident, surrounded the flat part of the roof. It was a pleasant place, nicer than she would have expected to find on the roof of a building in the middle of the city, and being out in the open air helped to calm her. A couple of other people were up there, reading on the benches in the sunshine, but aside from a few brief glances, they paid no mind to her.
She stood at the railing and looked out over the city towards the warehouse district in the northeast. From here, the layout of the streets was lost in the jumble of rooftops. What it would be like, she wondered, to be able to fly like a bird and look down directly on the streets? She spent a good part of the day there on the roof, comparing the map to what she saw below her and picking out different routes between where she guessed the Hidden Council headquarters was and the hotel. If she had to make a run for it in the middle of the night, she wanted to have a good idea of where she was going.
When evening came, she ate supper, then studied the map some more until she had nearly all the streets between the hotel and the warehouse district memorized. Finally, near midnight, she made sure her gun was loaded and that there were extra bullets in her gunbelt, put some money and several additional rounds of ammunition into the pocket of her duster, and gave a final glance at Silas’s hat in its place of honor on the pillow next to hers. “Who knows, maybe I’ll come back with him this time,” she said to it. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, Silas and her Pa always said.
Even this late at night, a doorman stood at the entrance of the hotel. He unlocked the door for Lainie. “Will you be back tonight, madam?” he asked.
“Yes, I will.” Hope for the best. “I may be bringing someone with me.” Then she realized what that probably sounded like, and her cheeks burned. “My husband, I mean. I’m hoping he’s arrived in Sandostra by now.”
The doorman didn’t bat an eyelash. “I will watch for your return, then, madam.” She left the hotel, and he closed and locked the door behind her.
As promised, a small open carriage was waiting down the street. A man dressed in black, of the same size and build as the man she’d met yesterday, was sitting on the driver’s seat. Lainie stood back, waiting, watching for anything out of place. After several moments had passed with no sign of anything wrong, she slowly approached the carriage, her hand on her gun. “Who are you?” she asked the man in the carriage.
“It is I, Mrs. Vendine,” he replied. She recognized his voice; it was the man from yesterday. She climbed up onto the driver’s seat next to the man. Without another word between them, he flicked the reins and the horse started walking.
They drove through the winding, hilly streets, moving from parts of the city that were dark and quiet to areas where the lights shone in restaurants and saloons and music halls and the streets were filled with people having a night out. Lainie looked around, fascinated; the festive activity reminded her of the celebration at the end of the drive, only with streets and buildings and fancier clothes and more people. She remembered how much fun she and Silas had had that night, and the ache of loneliness, always there in her heart, grew sharper. Would they ever have any more good times like that?
Distracting as the bright lights and excitement of the city were, Lainie still took care to stay alert for trouble. This was going to be a dangerous business tonight, however it went. The man in the carriage with her was far too secretive for her liking, and even if he had been telling the truth and a rescue plan was afoot, there were still Elspetya Lorentius’s people to worry about, not to mention the Mage Council. She kept a sharp eye out for anyone following them or anything else that didn’t seem righ
t, and worked out various plans in her mind for dealing with whatever might go wrong.
The lights grew dimmer as they followed a route east along the riverfront, the buildings shabbier, the voices of people enjoying themselves more shrill. When they reached the edge of the dark warehouse district, Lainie said in a low voice, “We’ll stop here.” She didn’t like the idea of going into hostile territory in a carriage driven by someone who wouldn’t tell her his name.
“But, Mrs. Vendine, it’s still some distance –”
“I can walk. Stop now and get out.”
“Please, trust me.”
She slipped her gun from its holster and pressed it to the man’s side. “It seems like I’m the one who’s being asked to do all the trusting here, friend. You can trust me a little in turn. It’s better to go in quietly on foot.”
“Y – Yes, ma’am.”
They climbed down from the carriage. The man hitched the horse to a post and put a light concealing shield around it and the carriage. Lainie put her gun to the small of his back. “Let’s go.”
“You can put your shotgun away now, ma’am,” he said nervously.
“It’s a revolver. And until you tell me your name and what the plan is, it’s also my ‘trust’.”
“I – of course.”
They started walking through the dark, empty streets past warehouses that were deserted for the night. Lainie kept most of her power suppressed, letting just a little come to the surface. While she didn’t want to alert anyone to her presence, she also wanted to be able to use her mage senses, and she didn’t want to be caught off-guard and unprepared to use magic if something happened. The Sh’kimech, perhaps sensing her nervousness and heightened alertness, stirred to life inside her, cold and eager. She ordered them back down; she would save them for only the most dangerous, desperate situations, that justified the risks involved in working with them. Besides, if she used up their power too soon, she wouldn’t be able to get any more.
Lainie and her companion came to the intersection with the street where the Hidden Council headquarters stood. Lainie hung back behind the corner of the building across the street from the empty lot to the right of the headquarters, and grabbed her companion’s sleeve to pull him back. “Wait,” she whispered.
“What –?” he started to ask.
“Quiet.” Carefully, she reached out towards the Hidden Council building with her mage senses. Recognition jolted through her; she snatched her mage senses back, then extended them again, using the lightest touch she could manage. There were six or eight mages over by the Hidden Council building; she recognized their power from three days ago, when she had suppressed it into temporary uselessness. She thought some of them had also been among the mages who had pursued her through the streets. She peeked around the corner and saw their dark forms waiting in the shadows around the side door of the warehouse.
She pushed her gun a little harder into the man’s back. “What in all the hells is going on?” she whispered.
“I don’t know what you mean –”
She raised her gun and pressed the muzzle against the base of his skull. “The next lie you tell me is going to be the last thing you say. There’s men over there, waiting. Who are they?”
“It’s all part of –”
She cocked her gun. Silas, and her Pa before him, had taught her never to cock it unless she was prepared to shoot. If this lying son of a bitch had led her into a trap, she would kill him, and gladly, if she had to. “Those are Hidden Council mages. I recognize them. Don’t try to tell me they’re here to help me rescue my husband.”
A whine entered his whispered words. “She’s right, you know. The foreign scientists are going to come over here and kill us all. We have to protect ourselves and keep that from happening, then we can worry about the Plains.”
“I don’t think worrying about Plain folk figures into her plans at all.” Lainie studied the building in the dim light from the moon and stars. The side door of the building, that she had gone in and out of the other day, faced to her right. It appeared to be shut. Near the left end of the wall that faced the street, at the height of the building’s upper level, dim light showed from a single, heavily-curtained window. “That window up there. Is that where he is?”
“How did you recognize those men? It’s dark –”
“Answer my question.” She prodded the base of his skull just a bit with her gun. “That window, is that where my husband is?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whimpered
Lainie examined the building some more. The walls were sheer, offering nothing to climb on. A lot of the warehouses had a ladder or stairway outside, leading from an upper window or door. For escape in case of fire, she supposed. This building didn’t have any such thing; she wondered if it never had, or if the Hidden Council had removed it for the purpose of keeping prisoners from escaping. From the window to the ground was three measures, she guessed, or maybe three and a half. The window didn’t appear to be barred. She wondered if it was ordinary glass or some sort of special magically-strengthened glass. It looked big enough for a person to climb through.
“All right,” she said, uncocking her gun. “Now, you’re a lying little sheepknocking son of a bitch, but I’m a nice person and I don’t want you to get in trouble for not doing your job and I’d also rather not kill you if I don’t have to. So let’s make this look good.”
She rummaged through her duster pockets for the bandanas and the length of rope she always kept with her. She tied one bandana tightly around the man’s mouth, gagging him, bound his hands behind him with another, and tied his feet with the rope. Then she rapped him smartly on the head with her gun, enough to raise a bump and daze him a little but not enough to do any serious damage. “Lay down, and don’t move or say anything until someone finds you. You make any noise before I’m out of here, and I will come back and shoot you. That’s a promise.”
“Hn-hn,” he whimpered as he lay down without resisting.
Lainie walked back out of the warehouse district the way they had come in, moving briskly and keeping all her senses, magical and physical, alert for trouble. She passed the man’s horse and carriage, and left them where they were. Her Wildings duster and hat and her gun attracted a few stares as she made her way back through the rougher parts of town, but no one bothered her. As soon as she reached a nicer area, she holstered her gun and hired a carriage to take her back to the hotel.
Chapter 9
AS SOON AS Lainie shut the door to her room, all of her tension and heightened awareness drained away, leaving her worn out even though she had only done a little walking and no running or fighting. She sank down on the bed, feeling shaky. She didn’t like holding a gun to a man’s head, even if it was a choice between his life and Silas’s freedom.
And, even though she had tried not to get her hopes up, they had gotten up anyway. Part of her had expected to have Silas with her when she came back to this room. Disappointment and a sense of failure formed a tight, aching knot in her chest, and she let out a long, shuddery breath that was half a sob. She couldn’t even look at Silas’s hat on the pillow next to hers.
What more could she do? Even if she could fight her way into the Hidden Council headquarters, she couldn’t get Silas out of a building filled with enemy mages by herself, not with him in the state he was in. But the unexpected hope that there were still people loyal to the original Hidden Council who would help her had turned out to be false. In all this enormous city, where else could she turn for help?
Maybe Elspetya Lorentius had an enemy who would be willing to help rescue Silas and who wouldn’t feel obligated to turn around and hand him over to the Mage Council. Lainie considered this as she got ready for bed. Any such person would likely be living outside the law, which would make them difficult and dangerous to find, and they wouldn’t be pleased if she were to draw the Mage Council’s attention to them. She would have to be very careful and discreet, but it might be worth looking into her gra
ndmother’s life and background for someone who wouldn’t mind thwarting her plans.
The newspapers would be a good place to start. If newspapers here were anything like in the Wildings, they would print bits of gossip about friendships and feuds, who had formed alliances and who had had a falling out. Lainie wondered if there was a place like the National Library or the shipping records office where old newspapers were kept. How far back she would have to search, she had no idea – her grandmother’s power had been discovered nearly forty years ago – but she couldn’t imagine that Elspetya Lorentius, being the kind of person she was, had never made any enemies or been involved in any scandals.
Lainie sighed, thinking of the long search still ahead of her. Never mind getting out of Granadaia before the snows blocked the Gap; at this rate, they’d be lucky to get out at all.
Still mulling over her idea, she fell asleep. Her dreams this night were filled with Elspetya Lorentius and the Hidden Council and the Mage Council all surrounding Silas, who stood trapped in their midst, alone except for some shadowy figures Lainie didn’t recognize. Just as she realized who they were, she woke up with one thought standing out clear and bright in her mind.
Silas had told her that he had had nothing to do with his family for years, and that they wanted nothing to do with him. But still, kin was kin. Even her heartless, selfish grandmother had been glad to claim Lainie when she realized she might be of use to her. Might Silas’s family be bothered to care, at least a little, if they knew what kind of trouble he was in? Even if they didn’t want him around, she couldn’t imagine that they would rather leave him the way he was, as good as Stripped, in the clutches of a group of people who had set themselves up in rebellion against the Mage Council. Surely they would stand with him as they had in the dream that her weary mind, churning for answers, had come up with.