by R S Penney
11
The sinking sun left a tinge of blue in the darkening sky. To Miri’s eyes, the vast mansion across the way and the wall that surrounded it were just shadows. Kerosene lamps on either side of the cobblestone street cast puddles of light, but it was easy to hide in the gloom.
She stood with her back pressed against a brick wall that surrounded yet another mansion. There were several in this neighbourhood. Her thin blouse and trousers were no match for the chill of an early-spring evening, but bulky coats would not do. “This is the place?” she asked, gesturing to the house across the street.
A shiver went through Tommy – whether from fear or cold, she could not say – but he took control of himself and nodded. “The carriage is behind that wall,” he said. “It has been for the last two hours.”
Clothed in black from head to toe, Kalia wore her long hair in a ponytail. Her face was grim. “I communed with the Ether and searched the property,” she said. “It’s big. I couldn’t see all of it. But none of the servants are in the front yard.”
“Then we should get a move on,” Miri barked. “You know the plan. Kalia, you take the north side. Tommy, you take the south. I’ll take the centre. Start by counting the windows. I want to know how many rooms we’re dealing with on the upper floors. If you can get inside without making too much noise, do it. But do not let yourself be seen? Are there any questions?”
They shook their heads.
“Let’s go.”
With a grunt, Kalia rushed across the street and then jumped, gaining incredible height. She flew right over the wall and slipped out of sight on the other side. Not once did she tap a buckle or give any other indication that she was activating a Gravity-Sink. Miri had never cared much for Field Binding, but today, she envied the other woman.
“That’s twice,” Tommy said.
Miri rounded on him.
He was just a silhouette to her eyes, but she could tell that he was uneasy. And she was fairly certain that he was blushing. “You called me Tommy,” he said. “That means you’re scared.”
Crossing her arms, Miri sniffed disdainfully. “You’re damn right I’m scared,” she said. “I’d be fool if I wasn’t.”
“We can do this.”
“I didn’t say we couldn’t,” Miri snapped. “Shall we get on with it?”
Sighing softly, Tommy started across the street. She caught a glimpse of him as he brushed the edge of the lamplight, but then he was gone. Her heart sank. She didn’t mean to be so terse, but he was still her Lommy. He had come far in less than a year, but she still felt protective of him.
Miri sprinted across the road. When she neared the curb, she tapped her belt twice and jumped, easily cresting the wall. Four more taps allowed gravity to reassert itself for a fraction of a second.
She landed in the grass and killed the Sink.
The property was huge; by her estimate, it was almost a tenth of a mile from the house to the wall. The mansion had two wings with six framed, arch-shaped windows on either side. Light spilled out from the ones on the first floor, but curtains made it difficult to see the interior. Which also decreased the risk that anyone inside might have seen her. She was well beyond the range of the lamplight, but some people had sharp eyes.
Staying low, Miri crept through the grass under the fence, making her way around the perimeter. You didn’t approach a house like that head-on. You looked for a spot where you wouldn’t be noticed.
It took a few minutes to reach the corner and begin her trek along the next section of wall. Where was Tommy? She had gone southward, which meant he should be around here somewhere. He couldn’t have reached the house already.
A flicker of movement in a nearby window made her freeze. She looked, but it was only one of the liveried servants passing by. Nothing to worry about. Unless that fellow had the eyes of a hawk.
Bracing one hand against the wall, Miri shook her head in dismay. “Why do I keep getting mixed up in these ridiculous plans?”
She moved in a crouch, following the south wall toward the back of the house. The cold wind cut right through her thin shirt. Couldn’t Tommy have given her a Heat-Source? She had plenty of buttons to spare.
The house was a shadow on her right, but the last gasp of twilight allowed her to see windows on the first and second floors. Both were dark. Unless Delarac was prone to a particularly maudlin form of moping, there was no one in those rooms.
This was as good a place as any.
Double-tapping her second button, Miri ran through the grass with nary a sound, moving like a ghost on the wind. It was so strange to not hear her breath or the pounding of her heart.
She charged right up to the side of the house, then tapped her buckle and jumped. Dark bricks and windows scrolled past as she rose into the air. Within seconds, she had reached the roof.
Miri caught the black shingles to stop her ascent, planting her feet against the wall. “How does Desa do this?” Her mouth formed the words, but she heard nothing. Which was incredibly unnerving.
She climbed up onto the gambrel roof, leaning against its inclined surface. After a moment of rest, she killed her Gravity-Sink and continued up to the peak, where the slope was much less steep. And thank Mercy for that.
Miri wrinkled her nose in distaste. She had never liked heights.
Cautiously, she stood up and walked toward the centre of the house. She kept worrying that the roof would collapse beneath her. If it did, she would have no warning, no creak of straining wood or crunch of broken shingles.
Motion in the corner of her eye.
She reached for a throwing knife, but it was only Tommy perched on the ledge that overlooked the backyard. He twisted around, having sensed her presence somehow, and raised a single finger to his lips. Now, what was that about? Surely, he knew that her Sonic-Sink was active. Was he telling her to leave it on?
Creeping closer, Miri knelt beside him. Bent forward with her hands on her thighs, she squinted into the yard below.
Two lamps cast soft light over the grass, revealing a pair of men in livery who stood on the edge of a large, stone patio. One of them was gesticulating quite forcefully.
What she wouldn’t give to hear what they were saying. But if their voices were loud enough to make it up this far, the sound would be swallowed up by her Sonic-Sink. Maybe she should turn it off?
One of the servants spared her the trouble.
He turned on his heel and walked back to the house, passing out of sight. The other one remained on the patio, shuffling about while he puffed on a cigarette. How long was she supposed to sit here?
She didn’t feel comfortable moving around with that numbskull down there, but her Sonic-Sink was growing weaker by the second. An hour: that was what Tommy had said, right? No, wait, that was for the Gravity-Sink. How long would the Sonic-Sink last?
Tossing his cigarette down on the ground, the young servant put it out with his foot and then shuffled back to the house.
The explosion of noise when she tapped her button made Miri flinch. It wasn’t loud per se, but compared to the total silence she had been experiencing, it was quite intense. The whistle of the wind, the barking of a dog in a nearby yard, even her own heartbeat: they all came roaring back.
“How long were they there?” Miri whispered.
“A few minutes.”
She pressed her lips together, nodding slowly as she considered that. “Keep an eye on things up here,” she muttered. “I’m going to look for an open window.”
Working up her courage took a great deal of effort. She hated heights. By the Eyes of Vengeance, she hated heights! With a great deal of reluctance, she triggered the Gravity-Sink and let her legs dangle over the edge. Except they didn’t dangle. They just floated. She twisted around, lying on her stomach, and then backed off the roof inch by torturous inch.
Tommy cocked his head. It was too dark to see his face, but she knew without a doubt that he was grinning. “Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”
“Shut up.”
Miri forced herself to let go.
Panic welled up inside her and faded when she didn’t immediately fall. She wasn’t still – the changing air currents had her flitting about – but she didn’t plummet to an ugly death, and that was enough. Two taps on her button reactivated the Sonic-Sink.
Gripping the ledge once again, Miri pressed her feet against the wall. She began to shuffle sideways, searching for a window. The nearest one was about ten feet to her left.
She began to climb down the wall, using the bricks of handholds, resting her feet on the windowsill. Crouching, she peered through the glass and found only blackness staring back at her.
She tried to open it, but it was shut tight.
On to the next one!
Within a few minutes, her fear faded away, and she began to enjoy this bizarre kind of burglary. She moved from one window to the next and then the next, trying to break in. Each time, she was met with failure, but then she came across one that had been left open. Just a crack, but it was enough for her to slip her fingers inside. It had been warmer this afternoon. Perhaps the room’s owner had wanted a little fresh air.
Gently, she swung the pane outward. Her first thought was that a creak might alert someone to her presence, but she needn’t have worried with the Sonic-Sink swallowing every noise.
She pulled herself up and crawled through the opening, floating in the darkened bedroom. Two taps on her belt restored gravity’s power, and she landed hard on the carpet. Idiot! she scolded herself. If anyone downstairs heard that!
Except there was nothing to hear.
After a moment’s hesitation, she tapped her button. She expected to hear breathing – perhaps someone had gone to bed early – but there was nothing. She decided to leave the Sink inactive. It could be as much a hindrance as a help. The ka’adri had been trained to use all of their senses, not just their eyes, but ears were useless when you were wrapped in a pocket of silence. Someone might sneak up behind her, and she would never know it.
With the utmost care, she made her way out of the room.
Kalia clung to the wall on the north side of the house, listening to the sounds of merriment drifting through a nearby window. Her back was pressed against the bricks, her hands and feet as well. She felt very much like a spider.
The Gravity-Sink in her belt buckle was slowly filling itself with energy. She had made three in preparation for this mission. If necessary, she could hang here for the better part of two hours. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take that long to hear something useful.
If only she could hear clearly.
The Delarac family had been enjoying a pleasant evening in their parlour. She had listened to several songs on the piano. The Drunken Mule, the Woman by the River, Old Man Chester: she knew the melody to every single one, but the words she had learned were different.
People started talking in the gaps between songs, but their voices were too muffled for her to pick up anything specific. She had an idea, a way to amplify their voices, but it was risky. She had created a Sonic-Source with directional modifiers for exactly this purpose. In theory, if she placed it on the windowsill, it would project sound outward, away from the house. She could eavesdrop and no one would be the wiser. In theory.
The truth was that sound was tricky. Even with directional modifiers, it was hard to control. The amplified sonic energy might bounce off a tree and reflect back toward the house. She could mitigate the risk by refining just how much energy the coin released, but it was still a danger. And what’s more, she would have to put herself right in front of that window to hear anything. Anyone could look out and see her. A Light-Sink might help with that, assuming, of course, that no one wondered why it was too dark outside.
Well, it was either this or try to sneak inside.
Turning her face up to the sky, Kalia narrowed her eyes. “You told me to take care of them, Desa,” she whispered. “Can’t blame me if it gets me killed.”
She flipped onto her stomach, shuffled around and began to crawl down the wall, approaching the window from above. When she drew near, she carefully maneuvered around it.
Her hand darted out, leaving a coin on the windowsill.
Kalia dove for the ground, killing her Gravity-Sink just before she hit, and somersaulted through the grass She came up on one knee and triggered her Light-Sink. Darkness shrouded her, concealing her from prying eyes. Hidden, she moved in front of the window. They were still playing the piano. There was no point in using the coin now.
She would wait.
With her back against the wood-paneled wall, Miri inched sideways toward the door. It was so dark; she kept worrying that she might bump something, but her training had taught her to move carefully even in places with poor visibility.
Retrieving a pair of gloves from her pocket, she slipped them on and then reached for the door handle. No need to leave fingerprints. From what she knew about Eradian law enforcement, they had not yet established the practice of searching for such clues, but the contingency you didn’t plan for was the one that destroyed you.
The door made very little noise as it swung inward.
Miri stepped into a dark hallway that ran the length of the south wing. The only light came from a balcony at the end of the corridor, much of it streaming up from the first floor. It was enough for her to make out the tables that had been positioned along the walls between every pair of doors. She could hear a piano and people singing somewhere downstairs. With any luck, they would stay there while she learned the layout of the mansion.
Turning away from the balcony, Miri went deeper into the south wing. She counted the doors on each wall. Four on her left. Four on her right. If the north wing was a mirror of this one, that meant sixteen rooms. They couldn’t all be bedrooms. She suspected that some were used for other purposes. A library or a study, perhaps.
There was quite a bit of space between the last door on her right and its nearest neighbour. The master bedroom? Only one way to find out.
With a careful hand, she opened the door and poked her head through the crack. Lamplight coming through windows that looked out on the backyard allowed her to see a huge, four-post bed with curtains drawn. There was no doubt about it: this was Delarac’s room. When Miri’s eyes adjusted, she saw a vase on a table next to the window and another across from the foot of the bed. She listened for any sign that she might not be alone, but thankfully, she heard nothing. “Last room of the south wing,” she whispered. “Backside of the house.”
Gently, she closed the door.
Now, all she had to do was find an escape route, a way to get Delarac out of here unnoticed. It was no easy task, to be sure. Bringing him downstairs risked running into a servant. They might be able to take him out a window with Gravity-Sinks, but which window? She would need to locate a guest room. Or perhaps the man’s study would do. With Sonic-Sinks to muffle the noise, no one would hear their escape. She was halfway back to the balcony when she heard footsteps on the stairs.
Miri spun, pressing her back against the wall and squeezing her eyes shut. She was deep enough in the shadows; if she stayed quiet, whoever was out there would not notice her. She hoped.
“Well?” someone asked in a thick New Beloran accent. “Did you put the comforter back on Miss Callie’s bed?”
“Aye,” another voice replied. “Though I don’t know what to do with that one. She had me put it away two days ago.”
“Well, this weather has been frightfully unpredictable,” the first woman said. “Cold one day, warm the next.”
Two maids stepped onto the balcony, both in gray dresses and white aprons, each wearing a bonnet in her hair. One was a fair bit older than the other: a stately woman with a pale complexion. The other couldn’t have been more than twenty. Short and plump with dark skin, she carried a lit candle in one hand.
The younger woman put her hand on the railing, smiling at her companion. “Well, with this party coming…”
Cl
osing her eyes, the older maid drew in a shuddering breath. “Don’t remind me,” she said. “Mr. Delarac insists on bringing half of his colleagues to this house. Mr. Phillips will find fault with something.”
“Aye. Because he always finds fault with something.”
“And then we’ll take the blame.”
What was this? Delarac was planning a social gathering? Miri was willing to bet that this Mr. Phillips was none other than Anthony Phillips, the representative for East Colton. And one of the most hawkish men in the House. Over the past month, Miri had requested the minutes from several sessions of Parliament from the Hall of Records. Dalen wasn’t the only one who could read.
Phillips was one of the most strident voices in pushing for military expansion, arguing in favour of securing more loans from just about every bank in the country to support the war effort. He seemed to think that there was great wealth to be found in Ithanar. If Phillips was on the guestlist for Delarac’s party, then who else might be coming?
“Well,” the older maid said. “Best you see to Miss Callie’s room. They’ll be heading to bed soon enough.”
The younger woman did as she was told, stalking across the balcony and slipping into the darkness of the north wing. The other one went back down the stairs, muttering to herself.
Leaning against the wall, Miri shut let out a slow breath. So, Delarac was having a party. If her guess was right, he would be inviting more of his war-hawk friends. Which might present an opportunity.
But that could wait.
For the moment, the original plan was still in effect. She continued her search for a viable escape route. One way or another, Delarac would get what was coming to him.
Kalia sat in the bubble of darkness that surrounded her. The window into Timothy Delarac’s parlour was so dim she could barely see it. Her Light-Sink drained energy slowly. Not enough for total darkness – that might be conspicuous to anyone who looked out the window – but enough to conceal her in shadow.