“I work for the Doga,” he said slowly, blinking as he tried to stare up at me and caught the streetlamp instead. “S-secreto.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “I guess you don’t want to live.…”
“Her,” he hissed. “I am Secreto, but I serve her. Sicarii.” He touched his face and winced. “You knew that already, didn’t you?”
“It was the only explanation that made sense,” I said. “But nothing that should make sense has made much at all lately, so I had to know. How many others work for Sicarii?”
“I don’t know. I don’t!” he yelped when I took another step. “Would she tell me? I’m just another blue under her thumb.”
“But the gangs all work for Sicarii.”
“If they don’t, they’re fighting for their lives against the ones that do,” Rafiro agreed. “Not too many left, being honest. Another fortnight and they’ll all be serving Sicarii one way or the other.”
“What’s your stake in all this? If Servenza falls—” I snorted. “The audacity to think that some insane creature and a bunch of street gangs are going to take down Servenza and with it the entire Empire.…”
“Not just gangs. Constables. Soldiers. Sailors.” Rafiro chuckled mirthlessly. “You don’t know how many of us there are. I don’t know either, but you know even less.”
“Fine. Say Sicarii succeeds: What does a constable gain from that? Servenza pays your salary.”
“And it’s a shit one,” he spat. “Sicarii will have need of someone to keep the folk in line when she takes power. I am irredeemable.”
“You mean irreplaceable?”
“Aye,” he said, pointing a shaky finger at me. “That.” He wiped at his mouth again, leaving bloodstains in his stubble, and sat up straighter. “I’ve answered your questions, signora. What comes next?”
“One more question,” I said. “How do you meet her? To get your orders?”
“Street rats,” Rafiro said. “They used to work for the gangs, now they work for Sicarii.”
“Sounds like half the city does,” I muttered.
“Are you talking to yourself?” he asked hoarsely.
“It’s too quiet in my head of late,” I said, glancing at him. “You say street rats, but I hear children.”
“So?” He barked a laugh and edged himself up a little higher, his right hand slowly making its way past his ruined kneecap. “What’s it matter?”
“The problem with this world is we don’t give a shit about how we got here and we don’t care where we’re going. In turn we swallow all the lies the Gods feed us and we exploit the little ones around us without a thought for what types of people they will be when we’re old.”
“Probably turn into someone like me. Or yourself. I don’t understand?” Rafiro said, sounding genuinely puzzled.
“I know,” I said, nodding. “Let’s keep it that way.”
The stiletto leapt from my fist in a flash of silver lightning and Rafiro jerked and fell back, the pistole he’d been reaching for falling out of its boot holster. He tried to grab the blade buried in his chest. Brow knit in confusion, he coughed a bloody spray that stained his chin red.
“I know where the heart is,” I said, walking toward him. “A little lower and more to the center than most realize. It’ll take you a bit to bleed out. Faster if I pull the blade, but…” I shrugged. “I have to pay a few more calls and it’s rude to show up with someone else’s blood all over you, isn’t it?”
Rafiro opened his mouth to answer, then his head fell back, slapping onto the cobblestone with a meaty thud. His body spasmed and a harsh gurgling sound came from his throat as he began to choke on his own blood.
“Glad you agree,” I told him, kneeling beside him. His eyes flicked to me, past me, then back to me, but I wasn’t sure if he was still seeing or not. I reached into his jacket pocket, where I found what I expected: a few kan papers and a match. “You tried to get Eld and me killed. That I could almost forgive—I mean, you’re not the first, after all.” I continued searching him; his other jacket pocket held something heavy and metallic.
“It’s what you and others like you are doing to Servenza that earned you that blade. Eld was right, turns out I was ignoring those I was trying to help, all in the name of trying to help them. That’s the danger of being brilliant, sometimes you’re too damned brilliant for your own good.” I looked at what I’d pulled from Rafiro’s jacket and cursed.
“You weren’t lying after all, you dumb bastard.”
The sigil of the Secreto lay heavy in the palm of my hand, twin to the one I had in my own pocket. My mind began racing, dozens—scores—of disparate thoughts competing for my attention. What does this mean? The question kept surfacing between every other thought and I could feel the beginning of a headache. I grabbed one of Rafiro’s rolled kan papers—he wouldn’t be needing it—and struck the match against the cobblestone. Puffing the kan alight, I drew in a deep lungful and let it out as I stood up.
“What else were you telling the truth about?” I asked Rafiro. He didn’t reply and I realized there was an awful lot of blood fanning out around his head, framing it against the street. “Shit,” I muttered, blowing smoke out.
“I might have been a little hasty.”
54
I walked out of the alley with my lungs full of kan and my mind full of questions, with answers beginning to rise out of the maelstrom. Adjusting my jacket, I began heading for the nearest canal. In summer, the city came to life at night, when the heat was almost bearable, but in winter, with a storm’s wind blowing in, there was no one around. My bootheels echoed off the street in rhythm with the thoughts in my head. Rafiro was Secreto, one of the Doga’s most trusted officers. How could she not know he’d turned his coat? Then again, he was a kan addict, so maybe her judgment wasn’t as sound as I thought. Or is she working for Sicarii, too? But why the assassination attempts? I shook my hair, gathered into a single, loose braid over my shoulder. It didn’t make sense. She had nothing to gain—she already had Servenza. Unless …
The sound of horse hooves and the rattle of harness interrupted my thoughts. I glanced behind me and saw a carriage approaching. A lantern hung at each corner; two hulking men sat up high behind the driver with a pair of blunderbusses. As it reached me, the driver pulled the carriage to a halt, the street suddenly going silent. I could just make out the sigil worked on the carriage door: a gilded kan leaf. One of the windows slid open and a familiar voice, full of arrogance and authority, called out.
“Get in the carriage, Sambuciña.”
“I think I’ll pass, Chair,” I told the old woman. “It’s a lovely night for a stroll.”
“There’s a warrant out for your arrest,” she said. “If you want to stay out of the Castello, you’d be wise to get in.”
“Warrant? For what?” I purposely avoided looking back into the alley. Killing a blue was definitely worth a trip to the Castello, whether they were on the take or not. To say nothing of the fight with the Veneficus the day before. I didn’t think any could trace those to me, but the past few days had shown me my fallibility, so I climbed into the carriage.
“Take us out of here,” she commanded the driver. “You know where to go.” Looking at me, her eyes liquid in the faint light cast from the lamps outside the windows, she leaned forward.
“You’ve much to answer for, girl.” The carriage lurched into motion. “Are you going to thank me for keeping you out of jail?” A black, fur-trimmed shawl, or perhaps a robe, was draped around the Chair’s shoulders. She inclined her head, her white-streaked black hair tinkling with the jewelry threaded in her locks. “I know how much you hate politeness.”
“I hate falseness,” I said. After a beat, I said, “Thank you.” I was surprised to hear that I almost sounded like I meant it.
“It was nothing,” the old woman said.
I felt my mouth curl—nothing!—and the guards flanking her both shifted.
“I can’t let the Company be dragged th
rough the gutter,” she continued as if oblivious to the temperature change in the carriage. “It pains me, but you’re part of the Company. Therefore, you’re under my protection … for now. It’s why I’ve not interfered with Eld’s foolishness.”
“Foolishness?”
“Hiding after your tiff like a little girl who lost her mother’s favorite amulet. It’s given rise to the type of rumors that could land you in the Castello and could be easily fixed, save he’s gone to ground, so only you and I know he lives.”
“What’s Eld got to do with me?”
“Rumor is you and he had a falling-out over your dead maid. With Eld missing, the rumors have grown to suggest you offed him, too.” She sniffed. “Whatever romantic frippery is between the two of you, now that it’s spilled out into the open, it needs to end. These rumors have given the Company a black eye.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” I murmured. I wondered which servant was giving the world a front-row view into our home. I’ll have to ask that kitchen maid … she’s supposed to be feeding the Chair only the stories I want her to hear. I’d have a word to the maid and Glori, and between them would ferret out the rat. Or rats.
The Chair’s silence was loud. She adjusted her shawl with thin, bejeweled fingers. “You need to atone for these rumors.”
“I do, but Eld doesn’t?” I snorted. Figures. “That bullshit aside, how do I atone, O great and mighty ruler?”
“You really are a child.” The Chair’s eyes were bright in the lamplight. “I was going to say you had to atone because you led and he followed, but perhaps I didn’t have the right of it.”
“In my defense, it’s been a long couple of days,” I said. “I—I apologize.”
“Good. I’m glad you found the words, even if they had to be dragged from you.” The Chair coughed into a silk handkerchief and muttered something about the weather.
“How do rumors, fanciful at best, lead to me in the Castello?”
“Her Grace has gone too far of late, insinuating herself into Board matters, working the shareholders through intermediaries like I’m too much of a novice to see her hand there. This, I’ve tolerated, but now she’s signed a warrant for your arrest without consulting me.”
“The Doga did what?” I sat forward in my seat. All the supplies required for Serpent’s Flame were ordered in her name. Her Secreto work for Sicarii. “Why?”
“Haven’t you been listening, child?” the Chair asked. “I can’t ignore an assault on the Company, whomever it’s directed at, and she knows that. The woman’s acting like she wants to be removed. She’s forcing me to see her gone or else rein her in so hard she’ll never mind the bit in her mouth again.
“I’d take this to the Empress herself if I could. Unfortunately, a warrant for your arrest isn’t enough evidence to show that the Empire must needs intervene.”
“I might have something,” I said. The Chair’s eyes shot to my own so swiftly that I’d half palmed the dull blade I kept strapped to my wrist before I caught myself. In the poor light, and wearing all black, neither guard noticed. She should have paid more for brains instead of muscle. “But it makes no sense.”
“Girl, sense is something I’ve seen very little of when it comes to you. That you’d fail to recognize it in others would not surprise me. Why don’t you tell me and I’ll explain it to you?”
“Has anyone ever smashed the bullshit you spout back down your throat?”
Both guardswomen moved, gauntleted fists raised. The Chair made a noise and they froze. We all stared at one another, the only sound the clip and clop of horse hooves.
“A few have tried, Buc. There’s always those that think physical violence is the weapon of first resort.”
“Funny coming from the woman riding around with all the muscle and firepower lire can buy.”
“Unfortunately,” she said with a shrug, “those types I was just talking about only recognize messages of the same.” She settled back in her seat and the two guards sat back down. “Now, what were you going to tell me before I pricked your pride?”
“Have you—” I was unable to keep my voice from dropping, and hated it. “Have you heard of Sicarii?”
“Sicarii,” the Chair said in her normal bell-like tone. “Sicarii, aye. I’m familiar with the name. I’m told they’re some gang leader or such who is trying to unite the gangs.” She chuckled, but her face didn’t change expression. “The last to try was some old whore named Bloody Waters.” She chuckled at the name, likely unaware she’d butchered it.
Blood in the Water was old, but she wasn’t a whore. I don’t kill whores.
“Killed by one of her own,” the Chair continued. “Happens every so often. A rat decides the rest are mice and that means they get to rule the gutters.” She waved a hand. “Either another rat comes along to put paid to that fiction or else we send in a ratcatcher.”
“Sicarii is many things, Chair, but she’s no rat. Half of Servenza is hers, from the mice you don’t see to the blues, maestros, merchants, and any number of would-be assassins.” Now I laughed. “I thought you said I was the one without any sense.” I leaned forward. “Even some of the Secreto work for Sicarii!”
“Say on,” the Chair commanded, her eyes flashing in her stony features. “All of it.”
So I told her. Most of it. Some, really. As much as I would tell anyone. Perhaps a little less. She had insulted me, after all.
“What doesn’t make sense is that Sicarii could have infiltrated the Doga’s ranks that deeply and the Doga not be aware of it,” I concluded. “The other problem is the attempts themselves. Sicarii doesn’t do half measures and from what I’ve seen, she’s damned smart. How is it that the Doga’s still drawing breath?”
“I understand why this doesn’t make sense to you,” the Chair said. I bristled and she reached a hand halfway out across the aisle. “No, I mean it. Why would it, when the Doga made an offer you couldn’t refuse in exchange for you finding out who was behind the attempts?”
“I didn’t say that,” I growled.
“No,” she agreed, “you didn’t … but are you going to call me a liar?” Her lips quirked. “I thought not. I wondered why you weren’t busy trying to turn the Board against me before I set you on the first ship sailing north.”
“Can the Board be bought?” I shot back.
“I could almost like you,” the other woman muttered, half to herself. “Don’t you get it, child?” She nodded toward the direction of the Palacio. “This is all the Doga’s handiwork.”
“I’m not certain Sicarii would play second to her,” I said. “She’s insane.”
“Of course she is. You’d have to be, to get into bed with that woman. Oh,” she said, holding a hand up to her mouth. “I forgot.” I blushed and her mouth widened into a genuine smile, almost as if the old bastard could see my skin in the dark. “The assassinations are fake, girl. Meant to make the Doga look blameless as all comes apart like a sack tied with broken thread.”
“Why let the city she rules fall apart?”
“Power,” the Chair whispered. “She’ll let this Sicarii turn the streets into one big riptide, threatening to pull us all out to sea … so that when she expands her forces, the Empress will believe it’s in response to this new threat.”
“If Sicarii is working for her, though, she’ll have two armies,” I said, hearing the satisfying clicks in my mind as more pieces of the puzzle slid into place.
“Precisely,” the Chair said, sounding surprised. “Neither would have a hope against the might of the Imperial army, but they don’t need to fight the entire army.”
“Gods’ breath,” I choked. “Just the Empress’s Imperial Guard.”
“Aye. And the Servenzan army lies garrisoned on the coast of the mainland. They’re the largest contingent of the Imperial army, and none would wager they would side against Servenza herself.”
“Have they ever rebelled before?” I asked. “I don’t recall ever reading about it.”
&nbs
p; “You wouldn’t,” she said dryly. “There’s history that’s recorded and then there’s the truth, and rarely do the twain meet. Ancient history, in this case. I believe there is a book on it hid within our library, the only one of its kind.”
A book? One of a kind? I bit my lip. Focus, fool. The Chair knew my obsession with books; everyone did. That she mentioned it now was meant to obfuscate or distract. Ah, I just did her a massive favor.
“There’s your atonement,” I told her. “The information you needed.”
“Agreed, but it’s not going to change my mind about you.” She laughed, chimes ringing in her throat. “Things are moving apace. I don’t need you hanging around fucking things up. I’ll take steps to remove this Sicarii from the equation and I’ll remind the Doga who invented the word ‘machination.’”
“I always knew you were old, but I didn’t know you were so old you created the Imperial tongue.”
“Is that meant to be clever?” The Chair’s tone dripped condescension. “You want to hear me laugh, tell me a joke. Until then, you’ll do as you’re told.” She shrugged beneath her shawl. “It seems,” the Chair said, her tone sending gooseflesh racing across my skin, “everyone is in need of a reminder of who the real power is in Servenza. In the Empire itself. It’s all built upon the Company’s coin,” she growled. “Every fucking brick, and they’d do best to not forget it.”
“Her Grace has.”
“And that’s why we’re speaking tonight,” the Chair said. “I told you once that I demanded loyalty. That wasn’t a lie. I also told you I was sending you away and I wasn’t lying then, either. A ship from Colgna put in earlier today. Once it’s done refitting it sails north.”
She jabbed a jeweled finger at me. “You’ll be on board when it does or I’ll send Eld to some flyspeck island in the Shattered Coast and you’ll hang for his death like the Doga wants.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” I whispered, clenching my hands into fists to keep them from a stiletto … or her throat. “You said so yourself. Not and see the Company dragged through the gutter like that.”
The Justice in Revenge Page 38