by Tara Sim
Basque laughed. “Well, I am throwing a fundraiser, after all.”
Cayo touched his shoulder to Amaya’s. “I recognize her voice,” he whispered. “I overheard her in the ballroom. Lady Deirdre. Apparently her family is the patron for a lot of alchemists in the city.”
“I believe your influence can greatly help my family’s ventures,” the woman, Lady Deirdre, continued. The light flickered slightly, as if she were moving closer. “Paying the expenses for alchemists tends to get rather costly, as I’m sure you’ve a notion.”
“Of course,” he replied smoothly. “Only to be expected, considering what they can do. I’ve just seen one of their latest inventions, a lantern that changes color to better spot faded bloodstains. Useful for the city guard, I bet.”
“Indeed. And what with them now trying to find a cure for this horrible illness, the expense reports keep racking up. I heard you have an interest in alchemy yourself. With your wealth and reputation, and our business endeavors, I’m positive we can make a true difference. Not only to the city, but to all of Chalier. To the Rain Empire as a whole.”
Liesl curled her hands into fists. Amaya was half afraid she would dive back through the window and throttle them both.
“I wasn’t aware you were so loyal to the empire,” Basque replied.
“Aren’t we all?”
“In theory, I suppose.” He sounded amused. “In order to keep our status, our titles. But many would spit at the name of the emperor and his underlings.”
“I assure you, I am not one of those.” A faint rustle; Amaya imagined her sitting on the edge of Basque’s wide desk. “And I know you are not, either. Indulge me a moment’s speculation, if you will. Consider adding even more weapons to the military’s arsenal. To have the power of the alchemists fulfilling the whims of the empire.”
Liesl tensed beside her as Amaya’s stomach dropped.
“Ah,” Basque said. “Which whims in particular?”
“The empire was created with conquest and military takeover. Now imagine if the alchemists and their inventions were added to the equation.”
“I see,” Basque murmured. “There is a certain appeal in that, yes. It would help with our future dealings with the Sun Empire.”
“And dare I say other territories as well? Territories that we’ve longed to snatch up for ourselves?”
“That would be quite the investment.” Basque’s words were faraway, as if already envisioning it, drawn to the allure of power. “But I’m sure even my coffers would strain at such an undertaking.”
Lady Deirdre laughed low in her throat. “Oh, you have no need to worry about that, my lord. Simply invest whatever sum you’re willing to part with, and I will do the rest. You’d be surprised at how far a single solsta can be stretched.”
“And you have plenty of solstas, do you?”
“Much more than enough,” Deirdre purred.
The three of them waited as Basque and Deirdre murmured some more, Deirdre uttering another flirtatious laugh before the light was extinguished and the office door closed. Cayo let out a long, shaking breath.
“Shit,” he whispered. Amaya couldn’t help but agree. “Does this mean—”
“Wait until we’re on the ground,” Liesl hissed.
They shuffled along the ledge, keeping their backs to the wall, until they reached a drainage pipe. Cayo, being the first one in line, threw a panicked look over his shoulder at Liesl.
“Worst-case scenario, you land in a bush,” Liesl whispered.
Amaya glanced down and spotted Deadshot and Avi waiting for them below. As Cayo grasped at the pipe, muttering curses the entire time, he managed to get halfway down before slipping. Thankfully, Avi was there to catch him.
“We’ll make a burglar of you yet,” the Landless man said as Amaya got ready to follow after them. Cayo merely let out a nauseated grunt.
“If you look up my skirt, I’ll stab you,” she directed to the three below her. She slowly yet steadily made her way down, her slippered feet sliding against the wall. Her heart leaped into her throat until she finally found her way back to solid ground.
They waited for Liesl, quicker and quieter than the others. Deadshot embraced her, and Liesl returned it with a relieved sigh before breaking away.
“What was that?” Cayo demanded, pointing up to the office. “The nobles are planning to exploit the alchemists for warfare?”
“That’s what it sounded like,” Liesl said coldly. “And the way Deirdre was speaking…”
“She could be the Benefactor,” Amaya finished.
The others stared at her. Not with confusion, but with grim acceptance.
“Her family is patron to most of the alchemists in the city,” Cayo agreed. “And if she’s already thinking about using them for weapons, one of those weapons could be the counterfeit coins.”
“She mentioned setting sights on other territories,” Liesl added. “Obviously she’s referring to Moray. The empire’s wanted it for decades, and it’s already sufficiently weakened thanks to the counterfeit coins. If her family helps the empire claim it, she’d be as good as royalty.”
A moment of silence passed over them, Amaya shivering from both the breeze and revelation.
“Cayo,” Liesl said suddenly, making him start. “Your alchemist. Florimond. Find out who his patron is, and what exactly he’s working on. It could very well be that some alchemists are working on a cure while others are working for the Benefactor. We need to figure out who is who as soon as we can.”
Cayo nodded, an odd mix of uncertainty and determination on his face.
“In the meantime, we’ll try to find out more about the Deirdres.” Liesl glanced up at the window, her expression hard. “And crack Basque’s code.”
Deadshot and Avi led the way to where Jasper waited with the carriage. Amaya didn’t miss how Liesl’s hand drifted back to her dagger as they stole into the night, a promise unfulfilled.
When you place a bet, make sure you know your limits. Even the best of men can be ruined within a single night.
—THE DEVIOUS ART OF DICE AND DEALING
Cayo kept his voice down as he told Soria what had happened the previous night. He felt a disturbing amount of satisfaction at the look of shock on her wan face.
“Cayo,” she breathed, coughing a little. “You didn’t.”
“I did. Nearly fell and broke my neck in the process, but I’m officially a thief now.”
Soria laughed around her coughing. “Don’t sound so happy about it!”
“I’m not. But after it was all over, I felt this rush of energy. It was amazing. It was like…” His voice trailed off, not wanting to dredge up the past, but Soria already knew what he was about to say.
“Like gambling in the Vice Sector,” she finished for him, arching one eyebrow.
He grinned sheepishly. “Exactly. It was the same rush I got when I won big at the tables.”
“Oh, Cayo.” She sighed. “First a gambler working for the Slum King, now a thief stealing from the rich. You’re a regular degenerate.”
“There could be worse things,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to make it a habit.”
“You better not. But if you do, you should at least grab me a new dress.” Soria turned and coughed harder into her shoulder, her body seizing up as the contractions racked through her.
Cayo held her hand until it passed, unable to do anything else. As she lay there gasping for breath, he used a cloth to wipe away the saliva at the corner of her mouth, the tears that had escaped her eyes. His gaze trailed down to the splotch of gray on her neck, creeping steadily and surely up her face and down her chest.
“She doesn’t seem to be improving anymore,” he had said to Mother Hilas the other day after leaving Soria’s room.
“It’s difficult to predict how certain patients will react to certain medicines.” Mother Hilas had put a steadying hand upon his shoulder. “We’ll just have to observe and keep administering the treatment
until a cure can be found. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but that’s the truth of it.”
But after what they had overheard the other night, Cayo didn’t know how many of the alchemists actually were focusing on a cure. Liesl was determined to find out more about the Deirdre family, even going so far as to keep Avi and Deadshot stationed at their manor on the outskirts of the city.
Robin Deirdre was the Benefactor. She had to be. Which meant if they found out which alchemists were working with her—who exactly was making the counterfeits—they had a chance to shut production down.
“Cayo?” Soria frowned. “You look worried. You’re not telling me something.”
He exhaled and squeezed Soria’s hand. She squeezed weakly back.
“I can’t tell you exactly what happened,” he said softly, glancing around, “but I think we have a lead on how to stop the counterfeits. Maybe. It’ll depend on what information we can find.”
“Oh!” Soria put her other hand on top of his. Her fingers were cold. “That’s wonderful news, isn’t it?”
“It is. But it’s only a small step toward fixing… all of this.” It felt as if he stood at the base of an impossibly high wall, with no other way to climb up other than using his hands. “I don’t even know if it can be fixed.”
Soria’s eyes burned. “If I ever see Father again, I’ll… I don’t even know what I’ll do. I’ve never been this angry before, Cayo.”
“I know.” He cradled her hands in his. “I’m going to do whatever I can to put a stop to this. To make sure the alchemists find a cure.”
She smiled, somehow both sad and proud. “Tell me… about Amaya’s dress,” she wheezed.
He bit his lower lip. He conjured an image of Amaya from that night, of her in that dress, calling him her husband, dancing with him, pressing him against her in that hallway. When her lips had touched his skin, it had felt like the strike of a lightning bolt, all heat and energy and the promise of fatality.
He still couldn’t believe it had happened. Or that they had escaped Basque’s manor, for that matter.
“God and her stars, you’re blushing.” Soria cackled faintly. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“What? No.” But that only brought more heat to his face, and Soria’s grin grew wider. “Shut up.”
“Must have been a nice dress,” Soria murmured.
“Mm.” Cayo cleared his throat. “You would have liked it. It was a Martisse.”
“Ohhh.” Soria gazed wistfully up at the ceiling. “I want a Martisse. Go steal one for me, Cayo.”
“I don’t think my skills are quite that advanced yet. Besides, I’m still working that fish market job, remember? And a side job for Florimond.”
Soria smiled. “I remember. And I’m really proud of you for sticking with it. Thank you, Cayo.”
He kissed the back of her hand. “Anything for you.”
“Then go get me a new dress.”
He laughed and stood, patting her hand. “I’ll work on it.”
The sky was a brilliant mix of pink and blue as he made his way to the market. He had decided to split his visitation today, an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening, unable to wait a whole day to tell Soria what had happened the night before. That way he could also make his latest payment to the hospital administrator after his shift at Florimond’s.
Where he would hopefully learn something new for Liesl.
“You look happy,” Victor grunted as Cayo began to set up the stall for the day.
“Do I?” Perhaps it was the residual adrenaline lingering in his veins. Although fleeing Basque’s manor had been terrifying, and finding out the possible identity of the Benefactor had been horrifying, he had to admit he hadn’t felt this alive in some time. It made him think of the stories he’d read as a child, of the protagonists who braved dangers not only to save the day but simply for the thrill of it.
“I don’t like it,” Victor said. “Head down, keep working.”
Cayo rolled his eyes but did as instructed. He was finding it somewhat easier now to deal with the man and what the workday asked of him, settling into a routine that gave him some measure of stability.
But was he happy? The idea strangely terrified him. Cayo hadn’t been able to say he was happy in a long, long time. Perhaps happy wasn’t quite the word—perhaps he was merely adjusting, finding whatever small things to hold on to in order to make life just the tiniest bit easier.
Like the memory of Amaya’s dark eyes on his, the heat of her lips on his neck. How she had actually apologized, reconstructing a little more of the bridge that lay ruined between them.
“What do you think?” Cayo asked of the fish in his hand. “Is this… Are she and I… able to be fixed?”
The fish just stared back at him, eyes wide and mouth agape.
“Yeah,” Cayo agreed. “That’s how I feel, too.”
Cayo nearly dropped the box he was hauling into the back room at Florimond’s shop. It was the last of some new shipment, and based on how heavy they were, Cayo was inclined to say Florimond had ordered himself about a third of a stone quarry.
“Careful with those!” Florimond griped. He was leaning over a glass vial that emanated a smell like rotten eggs. There was a whole table devoted to various beakers and containers, as well as barrels, boxes, and heaps of metal under tarps. The room was crowded and oddly warm compared to the chill outside.
Cayo leaned against one of the boxes and wiped sweat from his brow. “What’s in them, anyway?”
“Hematite,” Florimond muttered, more absorbed in his current experiment than answering Cayo’s question.
“What’s that?”
The man sighed and set his vial down. “A type of mineral found in sedimentary rocks.”
“What do you need them for? Is it to help with the cure for ash fever?”
Florimond peered at him over his glasses, and Cayo affected an innocent smile. He could already hear Liesl’s snort of reprimand. Apparently he wasn’t very good at being a spy.
“I don’t pay you to be curious,” Florimond said. “I pay you to do labor. Now go dust the shop.”
Cayo hesitated. He wanted to stay in the back room longer, wait for Florimond to become engrossed enough in his experiment that Cayo could start to poke around.
But he was already on thin ice, so he grabbed the feather duster hanging on a hook by the door and entered the main shop. He was tired from getting up earlier to see Soria and from his day’s work at the fish market, but that thrum of excitement kept him going, the promise that they were finally on the right track.
A customer came in while Cayo ran the duster over the shelves. Florimond emerged to conduct business, then coughed pointedly once the customer was gone.
“You have to pick things up to dust effectively.”
Cayo blinked. He’d been dusting around the items on the shelves, too afraid to move them and mess up their order. “Sorry.” He carefully lifted the jar he had seen during his first visit here, the one with thick silver liquid.
“Mercury,” Florimond said suddenly.
“Huh?”
“I know you want to ask, so I’m telling you what’s in the jar.” Florimond leaned against the counter, looking like an old, cranky lion watching its prey tiptoe around the field. “It’s called mercury. Lots of properties. It can be used to extract gold, as a component of explosives, even recreate the power of lightning. Extremely poisonous. Folks have gone mad using it.”
Cayo swallowed and gently, very gently, set the jar back down. “I see.”
“Do you have interest in becoming an alchemist?”
“Ah, I don’t think so?” He tried to imagine it, but the very idea seemed ridiculous. Maybe even more so than his childhood dream of being an adventurer.
“Then why do you ask all these questions?”
Cayo shrugged. He had to seem casual, curious, the very opposite of suspicious. The fact that he could feel the outline of his pistol beneath
his jacket made the task harder. “I guess, what with all this sickness running around, I’m eager to see what the alchemists will come up with. I’ve heard you’re working on a cure.”
Florimond didn’t answer, simply returned to the back room. Cayo sighed and finished the dusting. When he went to hang up the duster, Florimond was standing before his shelves, where a small wooden box lay open. The alchemist held a letter in his hand, jaw clenched as he read its contents.
At Cayo’s appearance, Florimond quickly stuffed it into the box and slammed the lid closed. Cayo made a mental note of that.
“You said before that you have to take care of your sister,” Florimond said. “She has the fever, doesn’t she?”
Cayo froze. Perhaps he really had asked one question too many. “I…”
The man gave him his customary scowl, but there was a heaviness in his eyes that replaced his usual annoyance. “Many in the city have it. It’s only natural you’d want to know how the cure is coming along.”
“And how is it coming?”
Florimond gestured to the notes scattered across his various work stations. “Slowly. Until there is a way to counteract the disease caused by the brinies, we are firing arrows into the dark.”
“Is your patron Robin Deirdre?”
Florimond stared as if Cayo had been invisible until just this moment. “How do you know about Robin Deirdre?”
“She came to the fish market the other day.” He swallowed, the back of his neck damp with sweat. “I heard others talking about her.” That, at least, was the truth.
“Well, she’s definitely got the alchemists in this city by the balls.” Florimond looked away. “But no, she’s not my patron.”
Cayo held back a sigh of relief.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” Florimond muttered, still not looking in his direction. “We’re working as hard as we can to find a cure.”
Cayo nodded, not quite knowing what to say to that. “If there’s any chance I can help…”
Florimond grunted again. Between him and Victor, that seemed to be their favorite mode of communication. The alchemist made a shooing gesture at him.