The Princess in the Tower (Schooled in Magic Book 15)

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The Princess in the Tower (Schooled in Magic Book 15) Page 11

by Christopher Nuttall


  There were fewer guards on the streets, she noted as they approached the docks. The men on the streets looked rough, their eyes flickering from side to side as if they expected to be attacked at any moment. She was grimly aware of unseen eyes following their movements, but saw nothing when she looked around. The locals would be good at remaining out of sight.

  We stand out like sore thumbs, she thought, as they reached a small inn. The sooner we change our clothes, the better.

  Jade paused outside the door. “I’ve used this place before for secret meetings,” he said, very quietly. “They don’t ask questions and they value their privacy.”

  “As long as the king doesn’t know you used it,” Cat said. “What did you use it for?”

  “Meeting people,” Jade said, evasively. “I built up a network of contacts here.”

  He pushed open the door. Emily braced herself and followed, feeling the faint wisp of a ward brushing against her defenses as she stepped through the door. There was no other sign of magic, but it put her on edge. The darkened corridor and darker stairs–so wrapped in darkness they seemed sinister–chilled her to the bone. A single lantern flickered in the tiny office, so small it was practically a cubbyhole, but it made the darkness worse. It was practically a living thing.

  A man seemed to materialize out of the darkness. “Yes?”

  “We want a room,” Jade said, flatly. He held up a handful of coins. “And we can pay.”

  The man took the coins and bit them, one by one. “Very good,” he said, taking the lantern out of the office. “Follow me.”

  Emily shivered as they walked up the stairs. She’d been in some dives before–she rather suspected they weren’t that far from the inn Imaiqah had taken Alassa and her to five years ago–but this was worse. The walls were damp and stained with...something, the air smelt of urine and the floorboards creaked ominously under her weight. Her boots splashed through liquid she didn’t want to identify. In the distance, she thought she could hear rats scurrying across the floor.

  We have to be alone here, she thought, as they stopped outside a door that had clearly seen better days. No one would willingly live in a place like this.

  She shook her head, dismissing the silly thought. No one would want to live in a shithole, but they might not have a choice. They might not be able to afford anything, save for the basics. Or...she shuddered, thinking of just how many crimes might be being committed behind the other doors. The innkeeper clearly didn’t give a damn. And, as long as he kept up the payments, it was unlikely the City Guard or the soldiers would give a damn either.

  The door opened with an ear-splitting creak. A stench of unwashed bedding rolled out, mingled with something worse. Emily tried, hard, not to gag. The smell was so strong that she half-expected to see a dead body on the bed. But the room was empty...

  “We’ll expect new bedding, of course,” Jade said, passing the innkeeper another coin. “Have it sent up here at once.”

  “Of course, My Lord.” The innkeeper bowed, then stepped back as Jade walked into the room. “It is already on its way.”

  Hah, Emily thought.

  She walked past the innkeeper and strode into the room. The stench was almost overpowering, the light so dim that everything was cloaked in shadow. Cat took the lantern and held it high as he walked over to the shuttered windows and opened one, just a little. It wasn’t designed to open very far. The smell of rotting fish was almost a relief.

  No glass, Emily thought, grimly. We either have to keep the windows open or stay in darkness.

  “It could be worse.” Jade closed the door. “We’ve been in worse places.”

  “I’ve been in cesspits that didn’t smell so badly,” Cat said. He placed his bag against the wall, then started to poke at the beds. “You want to bet the washroom is filthy?”

  “No,” Emily said. She opened the door, then recoiled. It didn’t look that bad, but the air was foul and the window firmly bolted shut. It was so high up that she suspected even Cat wouldn’t be able to reach it. “It’s not a pleasant sight.”

  “It never is,” Jade said. “We’ll have to clean it ourselves if we want to stay here.”

  Cat snorted. “Do we?”

  “This place is quite secretive,” Jade assured him. “They won’t breathe a word about us.”

  “Good,” Cat said. He jabbed a finger at the wall. “Because, in case you haven’t noticed, we’ll have to blow a hole in the wall to get out.”

  There was a sharp knock at the door. Emily tensed as Jade opened it, half-expecting to see a small army of soldiers with drawn weapons. Instead, a middle-aged woman in a black mourning dress held out a set of blankets, then retreated as silently as she’d arrived. Emily snorted, then started to strip the smaller bed. The boys could have the bigger one. Their blankets looked so badly stained that she rather suspected burning them was the only real option.

  “We should be able to ward the room,” Jade said, once the beds had been changed and the old bedding put outside the door. “Cat, Emily, can you deal with that? I’ll have to see if I can meet up with some of my contacts.”

  “You should bring us along,” Cat said, warningly. “You really don’t want to be caught alone.”

  “They’ll get skittish if they see too many people at once,” Jade said. “And we really need a place we can do magic.”

  “There was a ward downstairs,” Emily reminded him. “Someone here is a magic-user.”

  “The ward didn’t feel as though it was connected to a living mind,” Jade said. “But yeah, you’re right. The sooner we ward this room, the better.”

  “Fine,” Cat said. “We’ll deal with it. And you watch your back.”

  Jade nodded. “I’ll knock four times before I come in,” he told them. “And I won’t be that long.”

  He slipped out of the door, closing it behind him. Emily scowled as she turned her attention to her bag of tools. She understood his logic, but she didn’t feel comfortable letting him go out on his own. Jade was the one who was most likely to be recognized, whatever he did to conceal his face. A glamour would keep his face hidden, but it would also draw unwanted attention from the king’s sorcerers. God alone knew how many people Randor had managed to lure into his web.

  She paced over to the window and peered outside. There were a handful of boats in the waters and a couple of bigger ships making their way through the stone walls that sheltered the docks from the sea, but the harbor didn’t seem to be as busy as she recalled. A number of soldiers were clearly visible on the stone, marching up and down as though they owned the place. Emily had a feeling the locals weren’t happy about that. They’d built their walls on top of stones and rocks, prime hunting grounds for anything from small fish to crabs. The soldiers were making it harder for the locals to feed their families.

  “Give me a hand here,” Cat said, as he drew a line on the floor with chalk. “I want to isolate this room completely.”

  “And the washroom,” Emily said. She considered for a moment. “If we use Maryann’s Mirror...”

  “They may notice,” Cat said. “I was going to use Lugar’s Reflection instead.”

  Emily lifted her eyebrows. “You think they might try to scry for us?”

  “The king may have a sample of Jade’s blood.” Cat frowned. “Does he have a sample of yours too?”

  “I...I don’t think so,” Emily said. She’d been very careful with her blood. That lesson had been drummed into her the hard way. “I don’t think he’s had an opportunity to take one.”

  She considered it for a moment. She’d probably had her period at one point, when she was in the castle, but she’d always been careful to collect and destroy the blood afterwards. Hell, thanks to the potions, she simply didn’t bleed very often anyway. It was vaguely possible that she might have been scratched, but...surely, she would have noticed. And her mental defenses were very strong anyway.

  “No,” she said, finally. “I think I’m safe.”

  “
Best to be careful, anyway,” Cat said. He passed her a piece of chalk. “Draw out the runes and wardlines on your side, then check mine.”

  “Understood,” Emily said. She watched Cat for a moment, drawing out the lines with a confidence she could only admire, then focused on her share of the work. The floor felt clammy to the touch–she promised herself that she’d clean it when she had a moment–but the chalk was charmed. It stayed firmly in place once she was done. “I think that’s my side.”

  “Check mine,” Cat ordered. “We can’t afford a mistake.”

  Emily nodded and walked over to Cat’s side of the room. His lines were strong, with nary a hint of wasted chalk. He’d probably cast the spells several times in the past, while he’d been apprenticed to Master Storm. The older man had probably made him draw the lines time and time again until he could do it quickly and efficiently. Lady Barb had done the same for Emily.

  “Good,” she said. “Mine?”

  “No mistakes,” Cat said. “Well done.”

  Emily felt herself flush as Cat held his fingers to the chalk and muttered a spell. It was a very low-power spell–it might pass unnoticed, even if they messed it up completely–but it worked. Emily’s head swam, just for a second, as the wards settled into place. Anyone who tried to peek at them with magic would see nothing more than an empty room, unless they looked very closely. And if they did, the alarms would sound. There would be a chance to run before the guards arrived.

  “Now,” Cat said. He cast a spell. The air became noticeably cleaner. “We should be safe using magic now.”

  Emily smiled and cast a spell of her own. A light-globe appeared in front of her, bathing the room in pearly-white light. She felt her smile grow wider, even though the light revealed things she’d rather not know about the room. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d miss magic until she’d found herself unable to use it for a couple of weeks.

  “Well,” she said. “What now?”

  Cat grinned at her. Emily found herself flushing again.

  “I suppose we can wait for Jade,” he said. “And hope the silly bastard gets back before it’s too dark.”

  Emily smiled, then sobered. “What do we do if he’s late?”

  “I’ve only been here once,” Cat said. “What would you do?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said. She’d had contacts too, but she doubted that anyone who’d know her was still walking around freely. Imaiqah’s surviving family would probably have been arrested too, unless they’d managed to get out of the city in time. “We might have to think of something from scratch.”

  “Then start thinking,” Cat said. “We don’t know how long we have before they find us.”

  Emily tensed. “You think we’ll be betrayed?”

  “I think it would be unwise to count on a man who can be bought,” Cat said. “And if the Black Daggers start tightening the screws, the innkeeper might start talking.”

  His face darkened. “And then we will have to fight and run.”

  “And we’ll be no closer to finding Alassa,” Emily added. She leaned back on the bed, casting an insect-repulsion ward. “We’d better come up with something quickly.”

  Chapter Eleven

  EMILY HADN’T MANAGED TO COME UP with much, if anything, of a plan by the time Jade returned. They just didn’t know enough to come up with a real plan, starting with Alassa’s current location. Or Imaiqah’s, for that matter. Aristocratic prisoners were normally kept in the Tower of Alexis–she knew that much–but Alassa and Imaiqah were very special prisoners indeed. They might be kept in the castle itself...or they might already have been sent out of the city, well away from anyone who would try to free them. The former Duke of Iron had been locked in his country estate for the last five years, after all.

  “I couldn’t get a sense of either of you from the outside,” Jade said, as Cat let him into the room. “You did a good job.”

  “It’ll hold, as long as they don’t look too closely,” Cat grumbled. “There is such a thing as a room being too empty, you know.”

  Emily nodded, studying Jade carefully. He looked fine, as far as she could tell, but...she was all too aware that the city wasn’t the one they knew. The rules had changed. The slightest mistake could mean discovery–and death. King Randor wouldn’t keep Jade alive, not once he realized who he’d caught. Jade wasn’t a woman or helpless or someone the king was sure wouldn’t be a danger. He’d be quietly executed before he had a chance to escape.

  “If they start paying too much attention to random rooms in shitty little inns on the docks, they won’t be paying attention elsewhere,” Jade said. He sat down on the bed. “I managed to find a handful of my contacts.”

  “Good,” Emily said.

  Cat didn’t look too impressed. “Are you sure they’re your contacts?”

  “We need information,” Jade said, curtly. “And we also need”–he produced a set of papers with a flourish–“some new chits. My sources weren’t clear on just how many guards were actually demanding papers, but we can probably expect to be asked for them when we go near the Royal Mile. Thankfully, there’s already a growing trade in fake papers.”

  Emily took one of the chits and examined it, quickly. It wasn’t much, just a confirmation that the bearer had permission to reside in Alexis. The handful of biographical details were so vague they could have belonged to any young man between eight and twenty-eight, as long as he was unmarried. Jade or Cat or whoever used the chit would have to pose as a merchant family’s son, someone old enough to be out on their own but too young to be trusted with anything really important. Perhaps it would be better if they posed as younger sons. A firstborn son of their age would already be being groomed to take over the family trade.

  “I thought about claiming noble blood,” Jade said. “But we’re going to have to be very careful if we assert such claims.”

  Emily nodded. Zangaria’s nobility was simply too big. Everyone with a claim to a title asserted it, and the rights that came with it, as often as possible. There were impoverished men and women who still looked down on the richer merchants, even though they barely had two coins to rub together, simply because they had a title. It was quite possible that they could pass as the scions of a much-reduced family line, but they’d be in real trouble if they met one of the Grande Dames of High Society. Someone who knew the aristocratic family trees like the back of her hand would have no trouble penetrating the deception.

  And we would have to explain why we weren’t fighting for the king, she thought, ruefully. An impoverished noble family might see advantage in fighting for the king, if only for the rewards Randor would lavish on his supporters. And if we didn’t come up with a convincing explanation, we would probably be arrested as enemy spies.

  Cat frowned. “Still no paperwork for Emily?”

  “No,” Jade said. “I checked, carefully, but the story is still the same. Young unmarried women are listed on the paperwork of their legal guardian, who is responsible for them.”

  “Ouch,” Emily said. She was aware, all too aware, of the restrictions loaded on women who didn’t have power in their own right, but coming face-to-face with one of them was disquieting. “Which one of you is my legal guardian?”

  “My father,” Jade said, “who will be very surprised to discover he’s suddenly got a whole new son and daughter at the same time. We’ll need to work on the papers later, if we’re stuck here for more than a week, just so we can build up a better cover story, but right now I think these papers are the best we’re going to get.”

  Cat didn’t look pleased. “It seems a very sloppy system,” he pointed out. “I could take an entire regiment through the holes.”

  “I think it was put together in a hurry,” Jade said. “Given time, they’ll tighten the system up considerably.”

  “Or maybe it was just designed to make life difficult for anyone who wanted to cause trouble after the king took sole power,” Emily said. “Still, as long as there are cracks in th
e system, we can walk through them.”

  Jade nodded. “It’s getting dark. There doesn’t seem to be a curfew outside the Royal Mile, but we should hurry up and get something to eat anyway. We don’t want to be caught before we even make contact with Master Abrams.”

  Emily nodded, checked her appearance in the pocket mirror and headed for the door, trying to hide her disquiet. Alexis was familiar territory, which made the changes so terrifying. It would be easy to do something wrong, something that would bring the soldiers down on them, just because they weren’t used to living in a police state. But then, even with the New Learning, there were very real limits on just how hard Randor could clamp down on his capital city. The Soviet Union and Communist China had access to population-control techniques and technologies that would make the Spanish Inquisitors wet their pants.

  The air smelt foul when they stepped outside, even though the dockyards and surrounding areas were steadily coming to life. Thousands of men–and a number of women–thronged through the streets, heading home or looking for something to do now that work had ended for the day. The taverns seemed to be doing a roaring trade, as were a handful of unmarked buildings that Emily suspected were brothels. She was surprised that the soldiers weren’t trying to intervene and pack everyone back to their homes, although she supposed it made a certain kind of sense. Heavy drinking was practically a dockyard tradition. The soldiers didn’t want to provoke a riot when it would be completely unnecessary.

  “They’re not asking anyone for their papers,” Cat muttered, as they slipped past another bunch of soldiers. “I don’t know what they’re watching for.”

  “They probably want to remind people that the king is watching them,” Emily said, looking towards the castle. It shone like a lighthouse in the growing darkness. “Their mere presence will probably stop a riot before it starts.”

  She couldn’t help feeling nervous as they kept walking down the streets, looking for a relatively quiet place to eat. The dockyards didn’t look very civilized: the workers pushed and shoved at each other, quaffing vast quantities of beer while waiting for their turn in the brothels or merely killing time before they had to go home. A burst of singing made her jump, echoing out from the nearest tavern; two dogs were fighting in the streets, watched and cheered by a large crowd. She shuddered helplessly as one dog tore the other one’s throat out, then held up a bloodstained head for applause. The crowd went wild, toasting the dog even as money changed hands. They’d been laying bets on the fight.

 

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