The second tale, much closer to the truth, was not so widely spread. It was spoken about in the shadows, as the rumormongers feared being found out and tried for treason. Most of them were upper class citizens, those who had been at the infamous dinner party, and witnessed Vol Tyrr pronounce his prince dead even before the body was still. They knew, like Fox and his compatriots, that Prince Leofrick had been poisoned. That the general had seen the possibility of power, and taken it. Theories about Vol Tyrr’s motives differed from story to story. Some said he simply lusted for the Gilvard girl, and wanted her for himself. Others claimed he simply wished to elevate his own station, to be in a better place of command for his country.
But Bartrum had not been so convinced, of either scenario. And so, he and Fox and their small team of civilian spies had spent every hour delving for information. For two days, they’d dogged Vol Tyrr’s steps, following him throughout the city as best they could. They’d bribed palace guards, and memorized his schedule and daily patterns. They’d learned which of the visiting Fernaphian ambassadors were loyal to him, and which had been truly devastated by their prince’s death. And, most importantly, they’d charged the Shavid with spreading the false story of the plague. Amidst the chaos in the city streets, and the upcoming wedding plans, it was easier to find gaps in the city’s defenses, and exploit them. The Iron Order were so busy trying to restore peace among the citizens that they had no time to try and hunt Fox down when he got too exuberant with his magic.
Bartrum and Darby each had a copy of Fox’s newly-finished maps, both of Calibas and the palace, outlining every room and hallway that Fox had been able to gain access to. The palace map was incomplete in places, but better than anything they had. And, with Vol Tyrr’s sudden shift of power, they had no choice but to hasten their own plans. Now, Fox allowed his eyes and ears to be carried on the wind, doing one last sweep of the palace, assuring himself that everyone was where they ought to be. Gully and Wendy Gilvard were each in their rooms, where Fox knew armed guards waited outside each door. Lord Gilvard and Vol Tyrr were having late-night drinks in an opulent study on the southern end of the palace, and many of the Iron Order were pacing the halls. Occasionally, the wind that still filled Calibas would pull at the windows as they walked by, wrenching them open without warning, and causing a flurry of panic and frustration amongst the guards. Fox laughed at this, and pulled his senses back into his own body, in time to watch Farran materialize beside him on the rooftop.
The god seemed almost entirely himself now, with only a hint of the ink shadow about him. He crouched next to Fox, a roguish and eager grin stretching from ear to ear. “The pieces are all in place,” he said quietly. “Feels just the right time for a riot, doesn’t it?”
“The people are anxious,” replied Fox. “I can feel it. Even without trying now, I can sense their fear. It’s everywhere in the city. One wrong step, and they will descend into madness.”
“You sound pleased by that,” said Farran with some surprise.
“The chaos has been my friend of late,” Fox admitted. “When everyone else has been watching the pageant of fear and rumors, I’ve been able to slip through the shadows unnoticed. It’s ... intoxicating.”
“It’s good piracy,” said Farran. “And damned good spy work.”
Fox flexed his fingers, and did a quick inventory of his supplies. He had rope, all of his daggers in place, and several bottles of poison and potions he and Bartrum had concocted. Over and over he counted them, like a ritual. It calmed him as he waited, watching the wind pick up around them and buffet the nearby trees. Clouds were gathering overhead, and a distant rumbling of thunder could be heard. Fox felt it in his heart, vibrating his entire body. He could smell something in the air like excitement, and he knew: the wind was in their favor.
There was an immense explosion to the south, and Fox snapped to attention. It was time. Throwing out a hand, he commanded the wind immediately to tear open the window of Lord Gilvard’s study, facing the direction of the commotion, just as planned. Just to be absolutely sure that their attention was drawn to the riot across town. As expected, there was a wild scramble in the study as both men rushed to the window. Fox could hear them, the irritation in their voices borne to him on an obedient wind.
“What is wrong with the people in this Dream-damned city?” growled Vol Tyrr.
“My father made them soft,” spat Lord Gilvard. “They’re cowards all of them, unnerved by a bit of wind, afraid of false curses.” But, though the noble’s voice sounded confident, he couldn’t hide his true feelings from Fox. And he was terrified.
“Come on,” said Vol Tyrr. “I’m going to clean this mess up once and for all. I won’t have this unruly nonsense in my way any longer!”
“Can’t we just let the Order take care of them?” whined Lord Gilvard.
“It’s time they had a firmer hand on the hilt,” said the general. “They’ve been trying to quash these riots and rabbles for days, with no luck. But these commoners will not outdo me!” There was the sound of stomping footsteps, and a door swinging wide. Fox closed his eyes, using the wind to watch Lord Gilvard as he stood at the window. When Gilvard stood, apparently trying to decide, Fox decided to give him a push. He commanded the wind to shove the lord hard in the chest, and it bowled him over at once. With a shriek, Lord Gilvard scrambled to the door and raced after the general.
The way was clear. Fox pulled his senses back to himself a final time, and grabbed Farran by the shoulder. “Are you ready for some fun, my friend?”
“Never been more ready, my captain,” said Farran.
And with that, Fox was racing up the rooftop, and climbing the outside walls to the higher levels. With a combination of trained climbing and well-placed ropes, Fox began to make his way quickly to the window outside Gully’s room. For a few minutes he was accompanied by Farran, but soon the pirate branched off, heading for the open study window instead. They had different tasks tonight, and Farran whistled to acknowledge when he was splitting from the path. Fox was left alone in the darkness and wind, listening to the faraway ruckus from the south city riot.
He knew, even now, that Darby was carefully timing the second explosion of the evening, this one to the north. It was meant to begin once they knew Lord Gilvard and Vol Tyrr would already be out in the streets, so they could see and hear it for themselves. They would be forced to split their guard, and deal with riots on two different fronts simultaneously. Even if Vol Tyrr mustered the Iron Order’s whole force against them, it would take some time to quell the cityfolk once more. The spies and the Shavid had been doing quite a good job over the past two days of stoking the flames of panic and rebellion, and the people would not settle down quietly. They were itching to cause trouble, and Fox intended to take advantage of it.
He found Gully’s window easily, and asked the wind to help open it for him. It did so, and he slipped in silently, landing on the floor in a crouch. He held up his hand to silence Gully before she shouted in fear, and she relaxed at once when she recognized him.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “Where’s Neil?” The lady looked much thinner than even a few days ago. Stress and not eating seemed to truly be getting to her. She was dressed immaculately, but Fox knew her lady-in-waiting was in charge of that. The same was true of her hair, still piled elegantly and perfectly coiffed.
“He’s alright,” said Fox just as quietly. “He’s safe. He didn’t want to risk his own emotions getting in the way of this mission, so he’s elsewhere in town, doing his part.”
“Doing what part?” asked Gully. “Fox, you shouldn’t be here. My brother —”
“He’s otherwise occupied, for now,” Fox assured her. “But I know we don’t have a lot of time. Listen, there’s a magic hidden somewhere in the palace. My job tonight is to find it. And soon, at the wedding, we’re all getting out of here. Including you.”
“Fox,” said Gully, “he won’t —”
But Fox raised a hand to silence
her. He could hear the footsteps of the guards outside, creaking as they shifted closer to the door. Gesturing wordlessly, Fox pointed for Gully to close the window, and he flattened himself against the wall just as the door swung open, hiding Fox behind it.
The low voice of a guard rumbled through the room. “Oi,” he said gruffly. “Get away from that window. Tryna escape, are ya?”
“There was a draft,” said Gully innocently. “Blew it open. Could you help me close it again? I’m afraid it’s a bit too heavy for me.”
With irritated huffing, the guard stormed across the room, and Gully smiled sweetly at him. No sooner had the guard reached the windowsill than Gully struck out, pushing him with all her might, and sending the unprepared man tumbling out onto the rooftop. Fox could hear him rolling and shouting with anger, but he didn’t have but a moment to think about it, as the second guard came rushing in, sword drawn. His back was to Fox, who seized his opportunity and dove at the man. He didn’t think, he didn’t plan, he simply struck. Months of training took over, and in a heartbeat his dagger had found its place between the man’s ribs. As Gully yanked the window shut, keeping the falling man from climbing his way back in, Fox held the dying guard and whispered apologies into his ear. When he was finally still, Fox set him down gently, and stood to face Gully once more.
“Quick thinking,” Fox praised her, nodding to the window. “If the fall doesn’t kill him, he’ll be back up here soon. But we can deal with him later. For now, we’ve got to move, I need your help searching the palace for something.” He hurried to the now-open door and stuck his head out, glancing up and down the hallway. It was currently empty. No other guards seemed to have heard the brief scuffle. “Alright,” said Fox, “we’ve got a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time to do it in. Stay close to me, and don’t make any more noise than you have to.”
“It might help if you told me what we were looking for,” said Gully, though she gathered herself close behind Fox nonetheless.
“Oh, right,” said Fox, slightly flustered. “I’ve been keeping so many secrets lately, I forgot that you’re actually allowed. We think – we know – your brother is in possession of some sort of magical power that doesn’t belong to him. We thought it might be an artifact at first, but now we believe there’s definitely something plant-like about it. Possibly being controlled by a woman who used to be the gardener at the University, Fiona —”
“Evergreen,” said Gully quickly. “You’re talking about Evie.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Come on!” Gully grabbed Fox’s hand and pulled him into the hallway. “I know where she is, and I know why she’s here.”
∞∞∞
They were lucky on their trip down to the vaults, deep below the palace. The pair managed to avoid almost every guard, and those that they couldn’t, Fox dealt with quickly and quietly, just as he’d been trained to. When he could, he only incapacitated them, using small vials of sleeping potions he’d made, or tying them up with trip wires and traps. But, twice during the journey, Fox was forced to end another life. He swallowed back bile each time, and moved on as fast as he could, leaving the lifeless corpses behind him. Trying not to think about it.
“Evie was one of my best friends growing up,” said Gully quietly as they went. “She’s the one who helped me find all the best hiding places around the library. She often grew them herself. Plants just respond to her, like they don’t for anyone else.”
She paused, listening at a door, then beckoning Fox to follow her through it. She took him down hallway after hallway, and ducked through secret passageways Fox hadn’t managed to discover yet on his own.
“You said you knew why your brother brought her here?” asked Fox as they crept through an abandoned gallery full of old paintings and statues.
“It’s that thing you’re looking for. The magic my brother found. Nobody has been able to control it, and he kept bringing in the strongest mages he could, but it killed all of them. They just didn’t understand how it worked. But Evie did. So she volunteered.”
“Her people at the University said she was taken. Conscripted, like the rest of them.”
Gully shook her head sadly. “Not Evie. She heard people talking about what was happening. She overheard my brother conferring with one of the Iron Order in the library one day, and he described it, and she realized what it was. She offered her services, but my brother turned her down. Then, when yet another war mage was killed by it, she was sought out, and brought to the palace under armed guard.” She chuckled humorlessly. “Just like Evie, to sacrifice herself for a plant in danger.” And then, with even less humor, she said, “And just like me to get her into trouble.”
“How is this your fault?” asked Fox as they began descending the servant stairs to a lower level.
“My brother was only in the library that day looking for me,” she admitted gloomily. “I’d run away from my lessons again. It was the day I met Neil.”
They were coming to a divide in the hallway, and Fox could feel several guards up ahead around a turn. He gestured for Gully to halt. Down here, there was little breeze, and it was harder for him to reach out and tell exactly how many there were. Just to be safe, Fox pulled a glass bottle from his belt, and lobbed it expertly around the corner. He heard it smash, heard the surprised coughing of the guards, and waited several moments until there were the telltale thumps of bodies falling to the floor. Then, he ducked into the hallway with Gully at his side.
They were standing at the head of a long hallway, lined with heavy, gilded doors. There was a lingering hint of smoke in the air, and six collapsed guards.
“Are they dead?” asked Gully.
“Just knocked out,” Fox assured her. “Do you know which vault your friend Evie is being kept in?”
“I’m not sure,” Gully admitted. “I haven’t actually been allowed to see her. I just know she’s down here.”
“Better check them all,” said Fox. “And quickly. That sleeping cloud dissipates fast, and it rarely works a second time on the same person.” Stepping over the bodies, Fox hurried to the nearest door, and Gully took the next one. Most of them, as Fox had expected, were locked. Bartrum had taught him how to deal with this, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. He picked lock after lock, finding nothing but rooms of gold and ancient books; family heirlooms that were deemed too priceless to be displayed upstairs; one room Gully said was a shrine to their late father, that looked as though it had never been cleaned.
Gully was getting frustrated now. Fox could see her slam every door open with a fury, the beginnings of tears clouding her eyes. “We’re going to find her,” said Fox, trying to be encouraging. “And if we don’t, we’re going to try again.”
“You truly believe you’ll be given another chance?” said Gully with a roll of her eyes. “I thought this was a rescue mission.”
“It’s a precursor,” said Fox. “We had to move too quickly when the general moved up the wedding timeline, so we’ve had to get a bit reckless. This is all for show, there’s riots out in the city that we helped start to cover my sneaking in here. If we can find the Limbwalker – the magic – and your friend Evie, we can pull out all the stops on your wedding day.”
“On my what?!”
“You’ve got to understand,” said Fox, trying to explain to her as Bartrum had to him. “We can’t just force our way out of the city, it’s too well-guarded. But, in three days, all the rest of the pieces will have been put together. The city’s eyes will be entirely on the spectacle of the marriage, the general has made sure of that. All sorts of ambassadors and dignitaries are being brought in to witness the ceremony. And then there’s a plan to sneak you out, before the wedding itself.”
“Fox,” said Gully sharply, “Vol Tyrr is not going to let you anywhere near me on my wedding day. Not before the wedding, not during it. He will allow no one to interfere with his plans.”
“Don’t worry about it, we’ve got things under control,” Fo
x insisted.
“I think you underestimate how heavily I’m going to be guarded that day,” said Gully. There was a ferocity in her voice that made Fox stop. He was missing something. He looked questioningly at the girl, and she continued. “I found out about it last night. There’s a reason Gilvard is being so careful with propriety, and timing. Something about this magical plant ...” She looked uncomfortable. And angry. “There’s a potion they’ve made out of it, for me to drink on my wedding night. When Vol Tyrr plans to consummate. It will give the baby the same powers that this thing has, and it will be our heir. That’s why the general is making sure to cross no lines early, even though I can tell he wants to. He needs to be sure it’s legal, and that the baby is legitimate.”
“That’s why he killed Leofrick,” said Fox. “It wasn’t enough to have you as his socially-accepted mistress. He wanted it to be official.”
“And its why no one, not even my own people, are allowed anywhere near me on that day. He doesn’t trust any of them. It will be his guards, and himself, nobody else.”
There was a realization bubbling in Fox’s gut. A sickening, twisting, terrifying realization: their only chance to escape was tonight. And they weren’t prepared. Panic began to settle in him, clouding his head and fighting with his training. He swallowed back the fear, forcing himself to focus on the one thing he needed first: Evie. They had to find her, before anything else.
“We’ll figure it out,” said Fox shakily. “I promise. Neil would kill me if I let you go through with this wedding. Now, think. We’ve tried every door, you’re positive she’s here, in the vaults?”
Gully was running her hands through her hair, her face screwed up in concentration. “He said she was being kept safe in the vaults, and that no one would disturb her. There were guards, and why would they be patrolling an empty hall?” She glanced back at the bodies, and then her eyes widened. She rushed over to them, examining the places where they had fallen. “They aren’t watching any doors,” she said excitedly. “They weren’t guarding a particular vault, they were standing here by the wall!” She placed her hands on stonework, feeling around for something. “My father used to tell us about the secret dungeons he played in as a child, hidden from everyone. I was never able to find them, no matter how hard I tried.”
Inkspice (The Mapweaver Chronicles Book 2) Page 22