Tangle of Thornes

by Lorel Clayton

  I could picture Duane and Bell discussing me, clucking their tongues and saying, “We knew it. She was destined for the dark, evil necromancy stuff.”

  “Are you all right?” Conrad asked. I was unsure how long I’d been staring past him.

  “I am,” Ilsa cut in.

  Conrad did a double take when he saw her.

  “My sister,” I explained.

  Ilsa had a glorious smile when she used it, despite her now pasty complexion. “Hello there.”

  Conrad wasn’t my boyfriend, but she was already showing an interest. Not good. Although, this did mean she would act charming and behave like a decent human being while the guardsman was around.

  Uncle untied Nanny. She was limp, splayed on the ground. Erick must have drained her more severely than I thought.

  “Nanny?” I went to her and took her hand. “Can you hear me?”

  Her yellow-tinged eyes registered the crowd leaning over her, and she frowned. “All alive I see. Even you, Ilsa.”

  “It’s Eva,” I corrected automatically. “She’s okay,” I announced, not sounding as relieved as I felt. To admit affection for Nanny would be to admit weakness, and the old woman would not hesitate to use it against me in future.

  Nanny sat up, swatting my hands aside when I tried to help. She looked Conrad up and down. “What’s a human doing dressed as a guardsman?”

  “He is a guardsman,” I said.

  “Well, where was he when we needed him?”

  “Conrad has helped more than you know.”

  “Kali did not see you rise in the morning, Eva,” Conrad said. “I went to the docks to discover whether you’d hired a boat, but...”

  “Long story short,” Duane interrupted, “this fool was wandering around like a lost hatchling when I ran into him. One of my lookouts saw a wagon leaving Viktor’s house last night. We tracked it to this cavern.” He glanced at Erick’s corpse. “I never liked him.”

  “I did,” I said.

  “It is best we burn the body soon,” Uncle told us. “The god will desire such a powerful servant returned to his side. Can you make the arrangements?”

  Duane nodded and backed toward the door, giving me one last accusing look before departing.

  I was worried too. What had I done? I’d murdered two people, kissed the God of Death and ripped a soul from His grasp. I was going deeper into the black than Duane or anyone had ever taken me. All by myself.

  26│ EPILOGUE

  ~

  THE FUNERAL PYRE BLACKENED THE white sky and scattered ash on the snow around us. My uncle’s normally severe expression relaxed briefly when the last of Erick was dust.

  Had Ulric known someone would come calling from old Solheim, asking him to pay for past sins? Had he lived in fear? I wondered about my uncle, but it was like the fascination one had with an ice viper, trying to understand how such a creature functioned. I didn’t sympathize with either one.

  A crowd gathered for the cremation. There were always spectators at human funerals, some hoping to see a body burnt too late to rise. I never wanted to see it again.

  Soot-covered workers used long, iron poles to contain the embers as they collapsed. Forests had been cut down to tend our dead. Refugees usually huddled nearby, stealing heat from the pyre. I’d always ignored them before, but now that they were gone, I felt their absence.

  While Duane had been arranging the funeral, Conrad and I had checked in with the elven captain at the Market Guardhouse. I wanted to know what was happening with the enslaved refugees. I saw no reason to tell him I had found my brother’s murderer, or that I had killed him. The elf wouldn’t care, and it was safer if he didn’t know my uncle was one of the Nine.

  Even after so many years, those directly responsible for the Dead God’s rise would be hunted down if anyone knew who they were. There was no law to cover summoning a god, but plenty would want retribution, and the Crowns would mete it out. I couldn’t condemn my uncle to death, and the Thorne name didn’t need to be marred any further.

  The elf guardsman would not tell me what had been done with Harald. I asked if Randall had been arrested at least, and I learned he’d been cleared of the charges under torture.

  “What?” I’d asked.

  “He knew nothing about the other slavers’ activities, and my spells confirmed it. We let him go,” the captain said.

  I was incredulous. All those slaves could not have been shipped to Solheim without Randall’s involvement. The elf was disinclined to listen to my epithets, however, so I was escorted out of the Guardhouse and asked, once again, not to bother him with human business in future. There was no mention of the refugees on the boats. The authorities hoped the whole affair would soon be forgotten.

  Conrad kept me from doing something I would have been arrested for. When we reached the street, he let go of my shoulders, and I punched a wall in frustration. My knuckles bled.

  “This isn’t over,” Conrad said. “I will discover what became of those people. But for now, I must report to my unit or be expelled from the Guard.”

  Still angry at the elf captain, I couldn’t stop frowning. “No. I’ll find out what happened to the refugees.”

  “I’m not leaving this alone either,” he promised, before hurrying off to his posting in the Red Precinct.

  There was nothing to gain by turning Ilsa in. Her crime was stupidity—with evil intent. She liked to think she had orchestrated the enslavement of the refugees, but it was all the Elf King’s doing. She was a pawn.

  I looked at her now from across Erick’s pyre. She seemed none the worse for wear. While Conrad and I had been talking to the Guard, she’d bathed and changed clothes. Her purple dress had a matching coat and was set off by white, diamond-studded gloves. It was easy to see where her priorities lay.

  What bothered me was there was no sign of the hollows under her eyes or the pasty complexion she’d had earlier. What had she done?

  She seemed to regret nothing and had gone back to business as usual. I thought that included ignoring me, but I caught her looking my way with a predatory gleam in her eye.

  I’d replaced Little Viktor at the top of her blacklist. She wanted the rest of her soul back, no matter what she must have done before the funeral to ‘replenish’ herself already. What was I doing, thinking in euphemisms? If sweet little me could be a murderer, Ilsa had to have done far worse.

  I noted Randall, battered from his interrogation, watching from the edge of the crowd. At least the elf captain had interrogated him. Part of me thought the elf had been lying. I was getting cynical.

  I wanted a few harsh words with Randall myself. I needed to learn everything he knew about the deal between the Elf King and the Solhan Circle. As much as Randall disgusted me, it would be easier to question him than Ilsa. I took a step in his direction, but a hand pressed on my shoulder.

  “Eva,” my uncle said.

  I twitched out of his grip and gave Randall a glare before I said, “What?”

  “In the cave, you did not hesitate to do what must be done, and you showed the strength I’ve known all along you possessed.”

  “I don’t want your praise.” I was disgusted by it.

  “Very well.” Ulric took his hand away. “Still, I can help you. I have much to teach. Come by the house later.”

  “No.” I might go there to see Little Viktor, but never for him. Randall was inching away, and I was impatient to go after him.

  Ulric touched my shoulder again, and for a moment I was paralyzed. Magic, without charms or a word uttered. Better than Erick. “You will come,” he commanded.

  The paralysis didn’t last long, but when I could move, Ulric was across the square. Randall fell into step behind him, the slaver giving me a knowing smile that made me want to punch something again.

  All the time I’d been looking for Viktor’s killers, I’d merely been disrupting Uncle’s business. That’s why he left me in jail, certain the slavers, who he controlled, would testify on my behalf. I b
et Ulric had used magic to guarantee Randall’s silence when questioned by the Guard. I bet everyone in his employ was so bound by magical compulsion they had no choice but to obey him.

  Not me. Whatever spell he’d just tried to cast hadn’t worked. I wouldn’t be visiting my uncle’s house any time soon. I never wanted to see him again.

  In the days following the funeral, I questioned everyone I knew and they knew about the slavers’ ships. I made a stop at every Guardhouse in every precinct humans had access to, generally causing trouble and doing what I could to give the enslaved refugees a voice. I pestered Gypsum and Sir Markham endlessly, and they promised to do all they could.

  The extra energy I stole from Ilsa helped, but I could only do so much before my body gave out. I eventually went home to Viktor’s and collapsed, exhausted.

  I slept a whole day. When I woke, my frantic, guilty urgency had passed, and I’d resigned myself to the long road ahead. First priority was the boats, but the bigger problem was the unjust treatment of humans...and the war of course. I felt so small compared to that.

  Yet, the Dead God had known me. And, somehow, I’d known Him.

  I was at Viktor’s. My home now, I reminded myself. I felt the cold amulet around my neck. There was no trace of my brother anymore.

  Nanny was resting in her bed, well not resting, since she was screeching at Kali.

  “Bring me a warm rag this time, you cur!” The old woman tossed the washcloth she’d used to wipe her face into the bowl on the nightstand. “You have to put the water over the fire to boil it. You do know how to make fire?”

  “Why did you rescue her?” Kali asked me.

  “Sorry. I can take care of this.” I reached for the cloth, but Kali tore it away from me.

  “No, the kitchen is the opposite end of the house, and I’ll wait there as long as it takes for the water to boil. I think the fire needs fuel. It may take a while.”

  When Nanny and I were alone, the old woman smiled and patted the bed beside her. I got goosebumps. Had she seen Viktor’s shade? Was that what she was smiling at? She gestured again. “Sit beside me, Eva.”

  Nanny with a kind face and soothing voice? This was the most definitive evidence I’d had of her senility.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “You’re a woman now. There are things you should know.”

  She wasn’t going to try to tell me about sex, was she? That talk was a few years too late. “I’ve been a woman for a while, and I know about men.”

  Nanny chuckled. It was healthier sounding than the mad cackle that had seized her in the cave. “I mean you’re a Solhan woman. Adulthood is not recognized, your life is not respected, until you take the life of an enemy.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s our custom, but it is never spoken of with children or to outsiders. While it’s good to have enemies, Solhans have enough don’t you think? No need to make others fear us more.”

  I feared us. “You mean you’re being kind to me because of what I did to Erick?”

  She frowned. “I’ve always liked you Eva, even though you look like her. I’m trying to fulfil my duty as an elder. I must give you formal recognition with this.” She spread her fingers, revealing a small scar in the shape of a star in the webbing between her thumb and forefinger.

  “I’ve seen that mark before,” I said. “It means they all...?” I was surrounded by death. I felt it suffocating me. Just about every Solhan I’d ever known had that scar—even Viktor. Ilsa had it when we were children. I shuddered. No one told me what it meant.

  “Bring me my bag from beside the mirror.”

  Stunned, I recovered enough volition to obey. She retrieved a silver knife from the leather bag. It reminded me of the one I got from the bogle, but this weapon was finely crafted, polished to a brilliant sheen, and sharp.

  “Give me your hand.”

  “Erick wasn’t the first,” I said. “I killed Jhenna too.”

  “You only get one mark.” She smiled, like I was a child asking for extra sweets.

  “I never wanted either of them to die. It was necessary. I didn’t want it.”

  “We all want our enemies to die, whether we admit it or not. It’s a good thing. It is good to be the one who survives.”

  “No.” I hid my hands behind me. “I don’t want a trophy.”

  Nanny scowled, but I turned my back on her and went downstairs to help Kali.

  ~

  Later, I walked to Karolyne’s unmolested. The Solhan Circle business had made its way into the gossip whispered on street corners. More people said hello to me. Even the head priest of the Light Bringer temple and his wife smiled on their way to the funeral grounds. While the details were unclear, people knew Erick was Viktor’s murderer. In the court of public opinion, I’d been exonerated.

  In my own mind, I knew better. While Jhenna and Erick had been self-defense, and no magistrate would hang me for killing them, no one knew how much I’d enjoyed it. I’d touched their souls. Power called to me. All the lost souls in Solheim, in the Void itself, called like the endless, crashing thunder of ocean waves.

  I longed for one more cinnamon kiss.

  I fought my desires until they faded. And distractions helped. I wanted to forget about my conversation with Nanny, about Ulric and Ilsa’s schemes, about Erick. I went to Karolyne’s intending to find normality, to go back to the way things were before.

  I hadn’t seen Karo at the funeral. Conrad had told her everything, but she wasn’t the sort to leave work for any reason. She’d even taken to sleeping on a pallet in the office. I’d worried about my obsession over Viktor’s murder, but Karolyne had problems of her own.

  “I’m back,” I said, throwing out my arms and making a grand entrance.

  Jorg was tossing a salad in the kitchen. He waved with a set of tongs made of small shovels. They looked mostly clean. “Eva!”

  I didn’t recognize the dwarf behind the bar. Another one of Gypsum’s troublesome relatives perhaps?

  Karolyne’s hands were full of dirty dishes. She swung by on her way to the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “But...I was kidnapped. There was a risen corpse, a fight with mages, more kidnapping.... You can’t fire me.”

  “I can’t afford to pay you and Gypsum’s cousin too.” She indicated the dwarf spiking a cup of kaffe with brandy. Karolyne had decided to mix her two most potent drinks into an even more addictive combination.

  “But, I was here first.”

  “Well, he’s here more often.” Her features softened. “Sorry, Eva. You must have realized this wasn’t working out. Sit down and Bert will give you a drink on the house.”

  That was my severance pay? A drink that was likely to keep me coming back for more? Sometimes, I wondered about our friendship. I didn’t blame her for firing me—I was a terrible employee—but she could have done it with more sensitivity. Of course, sensitivity wasn’t my specialty either.

  “Fine.” I sighed and slumped into an empty seat. I put my chin on my hand and took a few minutes to indulge in feeling sorry for myself. The new server, Bert, came by with my drink.

  “You look like you can use this,” he said.

  “I could use my old job more.”

  He patted my shoulder sympathetically. “I’ve only worked here a few days, but you’re probably better off finding something else. I’d move on too, but Gypsum isn’t giving me a choice. She says I need to learn about hard work. It’s better than the mines at least.”

  “You have only been here a few days then.” I smiled wanly. “I’ll be okay. It’s not your fault. Thanks for the kaffe.”

  “I don’t think you can call it that anymore.”

  I took a sip and felt it burn down my throat and eat a hole in my stomach. He was right.

  I leaned back in my chair and enjoyed being a customer. I’d recovered my silver from the slaver’s wagon, pl
us a bit extra. Jorg was self-sufficient—he even paid a few coins rent for the basement—so I only had Kali and Nanny to take care of. I’d be all right, if I didn’t do anything stupid with my money again. There weren’t any slaves in Highcrowne left to buy anyway.

  Why did I feel like such a failure then?

  I paid for my next, fortified kaffe, enjoying the way the room began to sway around me. It also eased the lingering pain in my shins from too much walking up and down hills, which was a bonus.

  A few hours later, Gypsum found me sloppy drunk. She put her hands on her hips and clucked in the disapproving way only dwarven mothers could. A small swarm of her offspring buzzed around me, but my senses were so sluggish, I barely saw them.

  “How could you let her get like this?” Was Gypsum talking to me?

  “She’s a grown woman. I can’t keep her from doing anything.” Karolyne clanked some cutlery loudly against a plate and slipped away.

  “Bert,” Gypsum said, “get Eva some plain kaffe. Now.”

  When the strong, sugarless drink had jolted me into full consciousness, Gypsum’s disapproving expression came into focus.

  “Are you still mad about the docks?” I asked. “Sir Markham backed up Conrad, and then I embarrassed them both, and you. I’m sorry.”

  “Pish posh.” Gypsum waved away my apology. “It’s the government who’s embarrassed. Someone must have known refugees were being taken off the streets, but they looked the other way. When you rubbed their noses in it, there were a lot of red faces around the palace, believe me.”

  “It’s a human problem, I was told. They’re not going to help those people.” I felt as bitter as the taste on my tongue at that moment.

  “I may not be one of the courtiers with direct access to the Crowns, but, for one of such lowly birth as me, I can be a nuisance.”

  “Your mother was a baroness or something,” I said. Gypsum was hardly as low born as she behaved.

  “My sister got the title.” She squeezed my cheek when my eyes began to droop. “Pay attention now. The point is, something is being done. Those ships were intercepted, and after a brief detour south, they were pointed in the right direction. Those people will be back. They’ll be home soon.”