“You know why the Captain is angry, don’t you?” Carnelian asked from two stairs behind her on the staircase. As fast as Marielle climbed, her fellow officer kept up. “You’ve heard the rumors.”
“I’ve been a bit too busy to listen to rumors,” Marielle said, her face hot with embarrassment. She had been busy. Scenter training was grueling and started when a child was only seven years old. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have ears. And on the rare occasion that her mother visited her, the only thing she ever wanted to talk about was city gossip. She had heard.
“You won’t be the first girl to fall for Lord Mythos. They say he makes girls fall in love with him and then they’re never seen again.”
“I’m in no danger of having my heart broken,” Marielle argued, speeding up. She was getting breathless. It didn’t help that the walls felt like they were closing in. The closer that Summernight got, the more she felt like fate was playing a merry game with her, dragging her down a path she never meant to be on.
“That’s what they all say. But they all fall in love. And then they all disappear.”
Marielle stumbled on the next step and then froze, spinning to confront Carnelian. “And what? He hangs them up in his wardrobe and keeps them there like a collection of dresses?”
“I never –”
“He eats their hearts to gain their maiden power?”
“I – ”
“He uses their souls to fuel his magic while he feasts upon their bodies? I’ve heard all those rumors and more! Or do you forget who I was born to?”
Now Carnelian was the one with the darkening countenance, both of them gasping for breath. Anger clouded Marielle’s vision so that all she could see was the cynical twist of Carnelian’s mouth and the emerald musk jealousy of her scent sinking into the walls around them so strong it was almost as strong as the scent of magic.
“I’m just saying that I can protect you,” Carnelian said. “I can go in your place. I’ll make sure that nothing happens to you.”
She looked really upset and a small pleading, worried thread joined the jealousy. A barely distinguishable strain of ochre and smoked paprika in the jade clouds around her.
“I can take care of myself,” Marielle said. And she knew it would be true because it had to be. The Captain wouldn’t say no to anything Lord Mythos asked for. Carnelian, fueled by jealousy might get in her way, but she didn’t think that would stop Lord Mythos from getting anything that he wanted. And she was worried. She was worried because the scent of him still clung to her and every inch of her was desperate to breathe in that magic again.
Maybe the rumors were true. Maybe that scent alone could drive women mad and make them fling themselves from the tops of buildings or take poison because they could not have the magical ruler of the city. But it wouldn’t be true of Marielle.
She slipped into her room, ignoring Carnelian’s farewell and shutting the door firmly behind her, latching it before she placed the box on her bed and tiredly read the note. It was an invitation, printed on a shiny card.
ADMIT ONE
To the Seven Suns Palace
For the Ball of Legends
On the third night of Summernight.
And then in a fine, flowing hand was penned:
Marielle,
I hope that you have considered my offer and will join me at the Seven Suns Palace tonight. Present this to the guards to receive entry. I have provided adequate attire. Everything will become clearer once you see what I have to show you.
Lord Mythos.
Marielle opened the box, her heart pounding with nervous fear. Inside, laid carefully in the box was a Summernight costume. A filmy, gauzy white dress with a white brushed-silk corset and a pale tulle skirt dipped at the bottom in some light color that Marielle could not see. It swept up to the sides with shining ribbons. The very essence of sweet innocence – the costume of the Lady Sacrifice.
Marielle shivered. Of all the Legends, this is the costume that he sent her?
Was there something he was trying to tell her? Marielle chewed her lip nervously and thought about all the things she couldn’t possibly know.
Maybe Carnelian had been right after all.
Maybe she was in real trouble.
15: Noxious Threat
Tamerlan
Tamerlan prepared the concoction carefully, following the directions that Master Kurond had written in his spiky script.
“After you finish with that, go to bed, Tamerlan,” Master Kurond said tiredly. “You did well in the scavenger hunt. The whole Alchemist Guild is walking on clouds today. We’re the only ones to fill the complete list. Or at least, that’s what they told Master Juggernaut when he turned in our chest and list at the Seven Sun Palace. No one else had a grimoire. No, don’t tell me where you got it. I still don’t want to know. And no one else had Dathan’s stroke of genius and managed to turn in a skeletal hand. You’re both doing me proud. Mrs. Shen will leave fresh clothes hanging on your door for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Did you forget? One of our rewards for winning is an invitation to the Legend Ball, and you can hardly go in your apprentice clothing. I went ahead and purchased clothing for all the apprentices. Wear it so you don’t disgrace us.”
The door creaked behind him when he left and Tamerlan lost himself in the routine work of compounding the ointment from the recipe. Easy enough. And a way for the guild to make money to fund their other projects.
He didn’t even look up when the door creaked open again or when a pair of soft slippers whisked across the wood floor.
“Ahem.”
Tamerlan almost dropped his stone pestle when he did look up.
Sian!
His eyes went wide, his breath choking in his throat.
“I know it was you,” she said in a wavering voice.
Her hood was up, wreathing her face in shadows, but Tamerlan could still see the ugly bruises ringing her neck. Bruises he was responsible for. He made a sound in the back of his throat and took a step forward on impulse.
She stepped back, slamming into a workbench behind her and scattering herbs across the floor.
“Don’t come any closer!”
Tamerlan froze. “I won’t. I promise. I’m so sorry!”
He felt like he had lost a tiny piece of himself at the look in her eyes.
“So, it was you,” the words were almost a sob. “I didn’t tell the Watch. I don’t want you to be in trouble, Tamerlan. I used to think ... I always thought ... You used to be a nice boy. The kind of boy a girl felt safe around.”
“Sian,” he said, hands raised defensively. Her every word was a blow. He’d hurt her. He’d almost killed her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t.” She flinched from his words. “I didn’t tell them this time, but if I ever see you again outside of Library business, I will tell. I’ll tell anyone who will listen. Don’t ever come near me again, Tamerlan!”
Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and her voice shook in a way that begged him to still it, to iron out the wrinkles of her crumpled heart. But she was already leaving, her threat still hanging in the air like a noxious smell.
Tamerlan clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration. There was nothing he could do to make this right. He couldn’t even apologize. And he couldn’t even tell himself it wouldn’t happen again, because as soon as he was done compounding this ointment he was going to go up to his room and weigh and measure the rest of his ingredients so he could bathe in smoke again tonight.
Should he stop? Should he think about what might happen if he used the smoke again?
Lila Cherrylocks had almost murdered that poor girl with his hands, but she’d also done what she said she could – she’d broken into the Library with ease. It would be just as easy for her to break into the Sunset Tower, especially now that he had an invitation to the Legend Ball. If he chose not to do that, his sister would die. And he hadn’t actually killed Sian. He had stopped Lila in time.
He would just have to stop her again if things got out of hand. Until Lila Cherrylocks broke his sister free from the Sunset Tower, Tamerlan would just have to eat his guilt and let it haunt him from the inside while he did what he had to on the outside.
He ran his hand through his hair. None of this was what he’d planned, but with only three nights left, what other option was there?
Third Night of Summernight
16: Legend Ball
Marielle
When Marielle had been a little girl her favorite story had been the story of Queen Mer because Variena had been excellent at telling it. Her mother had draped long scarves around herself like water and seaweed as she told the story.
“The Queen of the Sea is as moody as the sea herself,” her mother had said, waving her arms under the scarves like the shifting tides. “And like the sea, she claims the lives of men and swallows their fortunes. Like the sea itself, she rises up to judge wickedness on the earth and swallow up the haughty.”
“Like the Dragonblooded?” young Marielle had asked, wide-eyed.
“Some,” her mother agreed, “But Queen Mer is not concerned with individual guilt. She swallows a ship for the sake of one man in it. Swallows a city for the sins of just a few. Beware the vengeance of the Queen! Her wrath is great! A woman, little flower, a woman never forgets a wrong done to her!”
And then her mother’s eyes would go wide and she would wave her arms like a giant octopus and chase small Marielle around the room until Marielle folded into a little bundle of laughter and delight and her mother would scoop her up and put her to bed for the night while she entertained her guests.
That was the closest that Marielle had ever come to a re-enacted Legend.
Until tonight.
Marielle straightened her scarf carefully. She wasn’t used to such a loose, gauzy scarf, but using her uniform scarf wouldn’t make sense at a party and the one that Lord Mythos had provided matched the dress.
The dress felt too pretty to wear. It had been too pretty when she put it on in her room – all clinging, filmy cloth like soft silken clouds – and it was too pretty here. Worse, it smelled of magic – just enough that it made her head whirl and pound. The other Scenters in the barracks had shied away when she walked past, shooting her nervous looks – but she didn’t think it was the dress that was magical, just the residue that the Lord Mythos left on it.
She’d felt so awkward that she’d left the fancy slippers in the box, leaving her knee-high boots on instead. They were covered by the dress, but she was beginning to regret that decision now that she was so close to the Seven Suns Palace and the wonders beyond. Someone was sure to notice the iron-reinforced soles of her Watch boots.
She stood in the gently rocking gondola with eight other people as it skimmed across the inky water – one boat in a line of a hundred – waiting for its chance to travel through the Water Gate into the palace.
A menacing portcullis hung over the Water Gate and dragons had been carved in the wall on either side of it – a ward, no doubt to keep back spirits. But the humans guarding the gates were even more of a deterrent. Their long polearms were tipped with blades as long as Marielle’s arm and they gleamed razor-sharp. The guards smelled of watchful determination, a crisp blue with a hint of peppermint.
Raucous laughter spilled from the gondola ahead of Marielle’s as it passed through the Water Gate.
“I don’t care if they won the Scavenger Hunt,” a woman in Marielle’s gondola said with a sniff. “Alchemist Guild members shouldn’t be allowed into the Seven Suns Palace.
Compared to the crowd of party-goers in her boat and the others, Marielle’s dress was actually quite simple. A man in her boat was dressed as Deathless Pirate with real skulls strung on a rope around his waist and his short-cape slung over his shoulders completely covered in what she thought might be blood-rubies. The feathers in his hat were made of gems and silk and they flashed as if by magic. The woman with him – the one angry about the Alchemists – was dressed as a Lady Sacrifice, just like Marielle, but she wore a white dress sewn all over in tiny bits of mirror and metallic thread that barely clung to her swaying curves. They both smelled of arrogance and anticipation.
Marielle’s eyes had widened at the sight of them when she had joined them in the gondola, but they were only the first of many. It turned out that her “elaborate” dress was quite plain in comparison to those around her. Maybe she should have worn the slippers that went with them. If anyone saw her City Watch boots under the dress, she’d look like a fool – though she was a lot less likely to twist an ankle than the woman ahead of her who was dressed like Queen Mer and wore slippers with heels so high that she tottered worse than a ship on high seas.
A loud gong sounded as they entered the Water Gate. The deep throbbing sound reverberating from a long way away. Marielle knew it was the great gong that stood in the central square of the Government District but even knowing that didn’t keep her from being startled at the sound.
A loud splash from a gondola behind them suggested that someone else had been startled by the gong.
“I don’t know why they have to ring that old gong every Summernight. It gives me a headache,” the other Lady Sacrifice complained as their gondola finally reached the landing inside the walls of the Seven Suns Palace and they began to disembark.
Already, just steps into the palace, Marielle was in awe, her eyes as large as they had been in those days when her mother playacted Queen Mer. She had no time for the critical complaints of the Landholds arriving with her. Bright lanterns hung along the water’s edge, lighting the water with a thousand tiny lights like the stars in the sky. They hung in long chains from the walls of the inner palace.
Marielle and the others entered through a wide arched door and into the space beyond where painted silks of landscapes were hung with lights fastened behind them, throwing colorful lights out from the cloth and long, dark shadows.
Between the lights and shadows, characters in costume with painted faces mimed the stories of Legend. Marielle recognized Queen Mer with her dripping crown and vengeful countenance – but this Queen Mer wore a dress bedecked with sewn glass beads that reflected the colored lights and flashed with her fury.
Byron Bronzebow stood proud and noble as he redistributed wealth to the commoners – wealth he’d stolen from the Landhold of his city when he challenged him to an archery contest and won. And then more wealth that he stole again when he fooled the Landhold and made him a public disgrace.
The spectacles went on as the crowd grew, slowing down as they reached a pair of shadowed doors lit with flickering torches.
Marielle felt edgy. The wonder of the crowd – a delicate ivory tinged with the sent of warm fir trees – filled her nose, but with it came a thousand smaller scents. Irritation, impatience, lust, anger, hope, ambition. They flooded her senses so that she could hardly take a breath. She pulled up the scarf, letting a single layer wind around her mouth and nose, but even that was not enough to do more than dull the ache of so many humans with so many hearts throbbing their own orchestral strains and clashing against each other like warring swords.
A burst of sparks rained out of the torches and then, from above, a wide sheet descended, the corners tied with silken ropes and suspended from above. A woman lounged on the sheet. Her garb was that of Maid Chaos, the breast-plated warrior with a crown of dying roses who stood at the right hand of Death and while this Maid Chaos was cheerfully eating grapes while brandishing her silver shears, Marielle couldn’t help but shiver. Maid Chaos was her least favorite of the Legends. Wherever she went, Death followed.
“Welcome to the Legend Ball on the Third Night of Summernight,” she proclaimed. “Take care, for on this night, Legends walk the halls with you and the man you speak to, or the woman you dance with, may be no man or woman at all, but a Legend from the past come back for just one night to bid us a merry Summernight.”
“Do you think it’s true?” an eager girl fr
om beside Marielle asked. Her Maid Chaos outfit was almost as elaborate as the woman in the sheet, but with a more buxom breastplate. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to dance with a Legend?”
Marielle gave her a tight smile, realizing too late that she couldn’t see it from under the veil. It would most certainly not be lovely. Marielle had a bad feeling that any Legends walking the earth today would need to be arrested before they broke every single city law.
The sheet was pulled back up into the shadows and the doors were flung open. Music spilled from the great room beyond, accompanied by so many scents that Marielle was forced to wind two more lengths of scarf around her face. It wasn’t thick enough to suppress so many hopes and fears and disappointments mingling into a powerful deluge that threatened to crush her.
She stumbled to the side, grabbing at a carved pillar to steady her as she choked on the cloying scents. Other bodies, jostling to enter the room, swept her along in their movement until she was in the Grand Hall, the vaulted ceiling soaring above her where hundreds of candles were set in each hanging chandelier and hundreds of chandeliers hung over the room. Just paying the chandler bill for a single night would take more money that Marielle could earn in a year.
She couldn’t see far into the room with so many people crushed against her, but there were hints overhead of spectacles to be viewed and intricate devices.
And then suddenly, the other scents were all swept away as a fresh, over-powering smell washed over them, not just overpowering them but almost burning them away. The scent of magic.
“I’m glad that you accepted my invitation, Marielle,” Lord Mythos’s cultured voice said from beside her.
Marielle looked up, her breath catching in her throat at his perfect dress. Alone, of all the guests, he was not dressed as anything at all. He simply wore all black in perfect, precise tailoring that made everyone else’s elaborate costuming look garish in comparison.
Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series Page 10