“Captain,” the woman said. “There is a… visitor.”
The short man, still in his captain’s uniform, leapt up and whirled around, spilling liquid out of his flask.
“What the—”
He looked from Elaine, to the blonde woman, then down at the basket. Something clicked in his expression. Then he shook himself.
“You’re that girl I tried to not arrest. The Connoly.” He looked down at the basket. “Gods, you brought cookies.” He stepped forward and took one. Elaine caught a whiff of spirits.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“No, thank you.”
A lock clicked behind her.
“She knows where our hideout is,” the blonde woman said. Elaine’s stomach turned to ice.
“Good point.” The man lifted his flask to the woman then turned to Elaine. “How did you find us?”
“I followed you. I followed you all day today and yesterday.”
“Hmm.” He grunted. “I’m really losing my edge.” He kicked at the chair. “Gods dammit I hate this place.”
“I believe we should question her, and then tie up all the… loose ends,” the woman said.
“I’m happy to answer your questions,” Elaine said quickly. “I don’t mean you any harm. I promise I’m not here to bother you and I have no idea what you’re doing here. I’m just looking for my friend.”
They stared at her.
“My friend, Jole. With the red hair and the tattoos. I think she’s been following you, and now she’s disappeared.”
“Oh, she hasn’t disappeared,” the woman said quietly. Elaine glanced at her.
“Give it a rest, Gird,” the man said. “Can’t you tell who this is?”
Elaine looked back and saw the woman—whose name was Gird?— looking grim.
“No, I can’t say that I can, Paric. Since apparently we are using names now. We’d really better not let this one go.”
“Who else in the last nine hundred years has brought us baked goods?”
Gird looked thoughtful, then her eyebrows lifted and she and looked more closely at Elaine. “I don’t see the resemblance.”
“’Course not,” Paric said. “Tell her your name, girl. And who your father is.”
A jolt went through Elaine’s stomach. He used the present tense for her father, not the past, just as Jole did. “Elaine ni Connoly. My father was Cormac ni Connoly.”
Gird placed a hand on her chest. “Gods.” She looked around the room, smoothing her hair. “What in…” Her head snapped back. “Do you have a message from him?”
“No; he was executed. Did you know my father, too?” Elaine asked, too many emotions to count warring within her.
Paric laughed. “Oh yes. We know your father. Or mother. Gods, this is confusing. Not many people have known your father as long as we have.”
Elaine couldn’t help herself. “Who are you? Will you tell me about him?” Jole could wait a few minutes more.
“We were… companions… many lifetimes ago,” Gird said, taking a cookie from her primly. She moved to one of the armchairs, waved her towards the other, and sat.
Paric grunted and made himself comfortable on the hearth, grabbing a handful of cookies and stacking them near the fire to warm.
“Back then, your father was called Coralie. And, except for physically, you’re the spitting image of her. Going to prison because it’s the right thing to do, bringing us food to butter us up, those were all things she would have done. There were five of us; Gird and I, your dad, Aron, and the Mandrevecchian. Together we overthrew that damned warlord and set up something we thought would be better. Only now it’s all gone to hell.”
Something deep inside Elaine opened up, hearing them speak of her father that way. Something that confirmed what she’d known all along. He was good.
“Why didn’t he ever tell me any of this?”
Paric ran a hand through his dark hair. “Probably because of what happened between him and the Mandrevecchian.”
“What happened?”
“Differences of opinion. They had a falling out.”
“We would rather not go into it,” Gird said smoothly, adjusting her skirt.
“So… what are you doing here?” Elaine asked. They glanced at one another.
“We’re planning to assassinate the Mandrevecchian,” Paric said.
“May I remind you that we don’t know we can trust her?” Gird snapped.
“It’s Coralie’s daughter, Gird. ‘Course we can trust her.”
“Like we could trust Lilianna?”
Paric waved a hand. “That girl was never trustworthy.”
Gird sniffed.
Was everyone planning a revolution? “I thought you were close to the Mandrevecchian, though.”
“We are. You’d think that’d make it easier, but no. She’s gotten more and more paranoid as she’s gotten older. The amount of security, and security measures that I don’t even know about…”
Elaine thought to herself that paranoid was not the right word. Prudent, it sounded like. So far everyone she had met in this place was conspiring against her. Including possibly her own father. If he was still alive.
“Well, then, you and I and Jole are all on the same side.”
“That snake?” Paric said. “I doubt it.”
“She’s planning a revolution, too. We can work together.”
Paric and Gird shared a glance.
“She rescued me from prison,” Elaine added.
“For her own ends, no doubt,” Gird said.
Elaine took a deep breath. “She said she wanted to know what my father was planning. I told her I didn’t know. She said she thought he was still alive, but that was the first I’d heard of that.”
“There’s something off about that girl,” Paric said. “I trust her less than I trusted Lilianna when I first met her, back when I thought she was just using my boss to get out of her crappy hometown.”
Elaine couldn’t say she disagreed. “Yes, there is something about her, and she’s dangerous and violent—”
“Well, that I don’t have a problem with,” Paric amended. He tested the temperature of one of the cookies he’d put by the fire, then popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Look, we’ve been around a long time. The whole time,” he said. “And there have been a lot of attempts at revolutions over the years. A lot. And they always fail. Violently. Spectacularly.”
“Everyone involved ends up dead,” Gird added. “Often tortured or dismembered first.”
Elaine grimaced.
“Needless to say, my… compatriot and I here don’t feel like ending up that way. We’ve made it this far by trusting nobody but each other and your father. This girl is bad news.”
“She’s also my friend,” Elaine said. Paric sighed.
“You are just like Coralie,” he said. “Has she done a single thing to earn that friendship?”
Elaine considered. Jole had broken her out of prison, given her a place to stay, given her food and work. All for her own ends, of course. Still… Jole might be cynical and bitter and angry, but underneath that there was someone who legitimately wanted the world to be better. She told Paric as much.
“So… what you’re saying is you’ve seen no outward signs of goodness, but you know it’s there?” he asked.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Coralie was a terrible judge of character, too.”
“She liked us,” Gird said.
“Exactly.”
“Jole has connections,” Elaine said. “Lots of them, and she knows things. If you want this to succeed you need her help.”
“Now, that’s slightly more interesting, if insulting,” Paric said.
Elaine pressed her advantage. “You’ve wanted to assassinate the Mandrevecchian for how long? How many lifetimes? And you’ve just been biding your time, hoping you’ll see an opening? How much longer are you going to wait? Jole has plans. Right now the Mandrevecchian is g
one, but in four years he’ll be back. That’s four years we have to plan and get ready. Four years from now Mimros can be the place we want it to be.” Also, these two seemed less bloodthirsty than Jole was. If they were going to have a revolution, Elaine wanted allies who could help her make it go smoothly.
“Eh, what the hell,” Paric said, tossing his empty flask into the fire.
“Stop doing that,” Gird said. “I’m going to stop buying you new ones if you keep doing that.”
Paric laughed. “All right, you go see if you can talk your friend into joining us. She may not be too happy about it.” He tossed her a key and pointed towards a hatch at one end of the room.
Elaine tugged it open, climbed down a ladder into a dark basement, took the lantern Gird handed down, and held it up, scanning the room.
At the far end she found a locked door, from behind which came muffled swearing. She unlocked the door, pulled it open, and immediately Jole was at her throat, a sharp splinter of wood poking into her neck. Elaine gasped. “Jole, it’s me.”
Jole released her and stepped back. “Yqtos, Elaine, what are you doing here?” She glanced at the lantern, then saw the key, and looked at Elaine with sudden respect. “How did you find me?”
“Followed Paric—the captain.” She grinned.
Jole looked up at the square of light that was the hatch. “We can’t have long, we’d better get out of here. Wait—” She caught herself. “How do you know his name?” She suddenly raised the bit of sharped wood and backed away.
“It’s OK,” Elaine said. “I’ve just been talking to them. They knew my father, it turns out.”
Jole stared at her.
“I told you I thought we should just talk to them,” Elaine said. “So I did.”
“You’re saying.” Jole’s turquoise eyes searched her face. “That you… what… knocked on the door and asked them to let me out?”
“Yeah, kinda. I mean. I brought some cookies. You know, to smooth things over.”
Jole was gaping at her. “You’re insane. You’re completely insane.”
Elaine held up the key. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Did it? Or are they just waiting up there to kill us?”
“We’re all on the same side, Jole. They want to overthrow the Mandrevecchian, too. They’re willing to work together.”
“They are?” Jole was still staring at her, open-mouthed.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure lucky it turned out that way,” Jole said. “If they’d been anyone else, you’d be dead right now.”
Elaine shrugged. “Maybe, but I had a feeling about him. He was nice to me. Like I said. Seemed like he knew me.”
“You’re insane.”
“Again, it worked, didn’t it?”
“We’ll see.”
Elaine and Jole climbed back up the ladder into the warmth and light, Jole still holding her bit of wood.
“So, you want to work for me now?” she asked.
“Ha.” Paric eyed the splinter. “Nice weapon you got there.”
“Come on,” Elaine said. “We’re all on the same side here, right?”
“Sure,” Jole said.
“Let’s get this straight, though,” Paric said. “We don’t work for you.”
“And I don’t work for you.”
“Fair enough.”
Elaine handed Jole a cookie. “Great, let’s start planning.”
“We are not murdering all reincarnates,” Paric said. “In case you haven’t noticed, that includes us.”
“Also, we want this to be a smooth takeover,” Elaine said. “We want it to look legitimate.”
“It’s not legitimate,” Jole pointed out.
They were in the warehouse, sitting by the fire again.
“Many reincarnates are quite lovely individuals,” Gird said, braiding her long hair.
“Fine,” Jole snapped. “We’re not going to be able to make this completely bloodless; you know that, right?” She raised her eyebrows at Elaine.
Elaine swallowed. “I know,” she said softly.
“If they die, they’ll just reincarnate anyway,” Paric said.
“And would you be just as cavalier about death if it were you?” Gird asked.
“I’m nine godsdamned hundred years old, Gird,” Paric shot back. “I’m different.”
Elaine glanced at the clock. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.” Paric and Jole glanced at one another.
“You do realize none of that is going to matter once we’ve killed the Mandrevecchian?” Jole asked.
“It matters now,” Elaine said simply.
Paric shook his head.
The one thing that united Jole and Paric was their bemusement at Elaine’s continued attempts to make things better, in whatever small way she could, in Kreiss. She figured that was a nice unintended side benefit. Checking to make sure she had her purse of silvers, she waved and left them to their arguing.
74
Elaine
Elaine sat at her favorite table of her favorite tavern, looking out the window at the rain thundering down onto the street outside. On the windowsill, someone had placed a row of tiny acorns interspersed with red stones. She smiled and shook her head.
The room was crowded and steamy. She craned her neck, her gaze sweeping the room until she caught sight of the woman she’d been hoping to see.
“Areny,” she shouted over the din. The woman’s eyes lit up. She gave up her place in line and made her way through the crowd to where Elaine sat.
“It worked,” she said, smiling. “Thank you so much.”
Elaine’s stomach untwisted, and the cloud that had hung over her mind for days dissipated. She’d been afraid; it had been so expensive. She could have fed ten children for months for that. “I’m so glad to hear that,” she said, taking the woman’s hands.
Areny nodded, thanking her again, and moved away to rejoin the end of the line.
Elaine finished her tea and slipped out into the rain, making her way up the slick streets. She passed taverns and restaurants, light glowing from their windows. Bright music and the murmur of warm, contented people spilled out into the street through open windows and cracked doors. Through a dirty pane of glass Elaine saw a man sigh as he lifted a mug of beer to his lips, a woman smiling as she buttered a piece of bread across from him.
They had no idea what was coming. She clasped her hands as she passed, praying to Numenos that their efforts were not going to be wasted. If Jole had her way, or if they made one too many mistakes and a civil war broke out, these streets could be littered with dead in a few days’ time. That had to be avoided at all costs.
There had been no whisper of her father’s whereabouts, no hint that he was alive, and Elaine had long since concluded that she was correct, that he had been dead all along. Perhaps she didn’t fully understand the circumstances of his death, and perhaps she never would, but if he were alive, he would have tried to find her. That much she knew was true.
Jole’s hideout was a buzzing hive of activity. Piles of weapons, ropes, and other supplies were heaped over every piece of furniture and every available bit of floor space. Groups of people stood arguing or talking excitedly. Some were passed out sleeping in corners, although how they were sleeping through all this light and noise Elaine had no idea.
Tired and bedraggled, her clothes soaking wet from the rain, Elaine went to her room, changed, and made her way to the kitchen. Paric was there, with five young people standing around him, looking at him with awe as he demonstrated sword maneuvers.
“Elaine!” he shouted.
“Evening, Paric,” she said, smiling.
“Good day out making the world a better place?”
Elaine shrugged, picking up a roll. “We’ll see.” She eyed the kids watching him. “Don’t take his advice too seriously.” He grabbed a roll out of one of their hands and chucked it at her. She caught it, grinning, and was about t
o leave when he held up a hand.
“Hey, did you hear the Mandrevecchian is calling a Krull?”
“What? Isn’t it too soon for that?”
Paric shrugged. “Apparently she had some revelation out in the netherworld and is calling all the clan leaders here in a week and a half.”
Elaine set the rolls on the table.
“Should we wait until after? Postpone our plans?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about all the clan leaders showing up a few days after their coup.
“Naw, Jole thinks—and I agree with her for once—that it’ll be a good opportunity to cement the new government. Make sure they’re all in line.”
Or a good opportunity to unite them all against us. But Jole and Paric knew what they were doing. “And you agree with that?”
“Yep. We’ll have the palace guard and the military by then. Not much they can do. I’ll say this for the Mandrevecchian, one thing she’s not lacking is security measures.”
Elaine nodded. “All right, then. If you think it’s OK.”
She went to find Jole.
She found her sitting alone in her study, staring into the fire.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“You hear about the Krull?”
Jole’s hands lay on the threadbare arms of the chair, her fingers picking at bits of exposed stuffing. “Yep.”
“Why do you think—”
Jole waved a hand. “I have no idea. Doesn’t change anything, though.”
Elaine noted the tension in her friend’s face. “Nervous?”
“No.”
“What’s wrong, then?” Elaine asked.
“Nothing, nothing, I’m just…”
“You’ve been working on this a long time.”
“Ha.” Jole gave a bitter laugh, which Elaine didn’t fully understand. “Yeah. You’re right about that.” She glanced at her. “Hey, did that kid end up living?”
Elaine smiled. “Yeah, she did. The medicine worked.”
“Sure was expensive enough.” Jole paused. “But I’m glad. Even if she would have just been born someplace else.”
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