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Authors: Kevin Harkness

City of Demons (43 page)

BOOK: City of Demons
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“Very well, Master Branet, I will obey—not because of your rank, but because I do want to save this Hall.” She smiled, though her eyes remained narrowed. “Besides, seeing me will give Trax such a shock that Garet will at least get in a few words before the guards are summoned.”

Branet let out a whoosh of air and stood again.

“And besides,” Salick added, “I'm not letting him walk in there alone.”

Garet shook his head. They had faced danger together before this, but what Branet was proposing seemed like suicide.

The Red gathered some more papers and made to leave the room.

“A moment, Master Branet,” Mandarack said. “You should witness this.”

He held his hand out to the Records Master, and, after much fumbling, she placed a ledger in his hand.

“Garet may be seen as an ‘outsider' by some, but he proved himself to be a true Bane before he ever set foot in Shirath.” He opened the book to the first blank page and dipped a pen in an ink bottle.

“I am promoting you to the rank of Green, although I'm afraid that you won't be able to wear your new sash—or any sash—on tonight's mission.” He entered the change into the book and left the page open on the table for the ink to dry.

If Master Branet had any doubts about Garet's promotion, he kept them to himself.

“I suggest that you not wear the mechanicals' clothes Marick and Dorict used earlier,” Mandarack said. “Lord Andarack has been arrested, and doubtless any mechanical will be stopped if he or she approaches the Palace.”

Garet froze in the action of bending over to look at his name written in the book of promotions. Salick gasped, her hand going to her mouth.

“Master,” she said. “Your brother! How did they...Trax wouldn't dare arrest a Ward Lord without the Ward Council's approval.”

“I doubt they gave it,” Branet said. “The Duelists arrested him. They captured Gonect as well and freed Shoronict.” Mandarack gestured for Branet to open the door. He shook his head and said, “If any good may come of this, my brother's capture should make the other lords see their only hope lies in restoring the balance between the Hall and the King, if only to protect themselves from the Duelists.” He motioned Arict to place the remaining records on the table and said to the two Banes, “Tell the King everything,” he said. “Garet is right. If Trax has all the information, he might make the right decision.”

In the corridor outside the Records room, Salick looked at Garet, her eyes troubled. “I don't like you going with me,” she told him.

“And I don't like you going with me!” he replied fiercely. “Why do you think that you'd be safer than I would?”

“Trax won't harm me!” she answered. “It's more likely to be the other way around.” Her cheeks flushed and the scar was a thin line against the blush.

“And what about Shoronict?” he shot back. “Or Draneck?” He reached up to touch her scar, but she pulled her head back out of reach, glaring at him.

“All right!” she said. “Get killed, just to prove you're a ‘true' Bane.” She stepped back, hands on her hips.

A passing Gold turned to look at them, and Garet took a breath to calm his own anger. “Salick, it's not about proving anything. Branet is right; I might be the only Bane he would listen to,” he said. “You know him, that's obvious, but will he trust you?”

She didn't reply at first, but her shoulders sagged a bit. “Probably not. Our last meeting wasn't pleasant.”

“But if I'm there, backing up your arguments with my Midland point of view, then we might succeed,” he continued, hands held out to her. “This is the most important thing we might ever do for the Banehall. If you think about it, it's no more dangerous than the patrols are now, hunting for that strange demon and avoiding the guards and Duelists.”

She took his hands and answered him, her eyes shining. “I know. I know all that, Garet. It's just that I don't want to risk losing you.” Her voice trembled, and she looked around, embarrassed, but the Gold had wisely continued on her errand.

“And I don't want to lose you,” he said, his voice low but fierce. “But I must be true to myself, as well as true to you, now that I'm beginning to know who I am.”

She sniffed a little and asked, “Who are you then?”

He smiled. “The crow who escaped the cage. A fatherless son. A Bane, which is a greater and stranger thing then I ever could have imagined.” He took her hand. “And your friend, which is also a greater and stranger thing then I ever could have imagined.” He watched her smile. “And the man who will one day marry you.” He waited for her reaction.

“Marry?” she said, her voice soft. “Oh Garet, that's so far away. Banes don't marry until they become Masters.” She saw his disappointment and rushed to continue. “But that doesn't mean that...claws! I'm not doing this well, am I?” She pulled him into an embrace. “Of course we'll marry! There's no one else I could stand...I mean that I love...Oh, you know what I mean,” she said, hugging him tightly.

She then held him off to examine his face. “What's wrong?” she asked, seeing his somber expression.

“I wish we could get married sooner, tonight,” he said.

“Garet,” she said, confused, “there will be time. It's best to wait until we can share quarters as Masters and have more control over our lives. Why rush into it?”

“Because Master Mandarack made me a Green tonight,” he replied.

“But that's a great honour! You've only been a Blue for such a short time. No one advances that quickly,” she replied. “And besides, what does that have to do with when we should marry?”

“It may have much to do with how much time we have left,” he replied. “Why would he give it to me so quickly, unless he feared that it might be his only chance to do so?”

Salick had no answer. Silently, she led him to the front doors to see if they could catch Marick and ask him if he knew of anyone or anything that could help them in this mad plan.

“No dearies, it won't do,” Mistress Alanick told them. “You'll be stopped and gutted before you get through the front doors of the Palace.”

They were sitting in the old astrologer's rooms in the Fifth Ward, directly behind the palace. She poured more tea for the two Banes and smiled at them.

Garet looked around the sitting room, and tried to come up with a better plan than sneaking up to the Palace doors and demanding an audience. The walls were covered with tapestries of night skies, done in deep purples and black, the stars embroidered in gold and silver threads. The shadows of the room were punctuated here and there with silver vessels on inlaid stands. The light of the many wall lamps reflected back from these, as it did from the silver tea service on the tray in front of them. Two desert birds chirped brightly in a wire cage in the corner. It was a room of some wealth, Garet decided.

He waved a hand at the walls. “Did you get all this from telling fortunes, Mistress Alanick?”

Salick scowled at this distraction, but Alanick beamed a beautiful, toothless smile.

“No, my lad. Astrology is my life, not my living,” she replied. “I have over two hundred sheep in the city flocks, and enough pasturage to feed them all.” She leaned forward, straightening the red velvet of her robes.

My family could work for five years and not make enough selling our skinny lambs to buy that cloth
, Garet thought.

She crumbled a biscuit into her cup. “I hire youngsters like yourselves to watch the sheep, while I attend to more important things,” she said.

“Mistress,” Salick pleaded, “you have to help us find a way into the Palace. Marick says you know everything about this city and its rulers. You do their star charts, visit the wealthy in their homes, but have you ever been in the Palace? Do you know a safe way for us to get inside?” She twisted the linen napkin in her hands, mauling the embroidered flowers along the edges.

“Eh, careful with that, dearie,” Alanick said, taking the napkin from her. “Those are worth a pretty penny in the market, I can tell you.” She re-folded it and placed it near her on the low table. “Have I been in the Palace? Of course I have. I used to live there, you know,” she said, enjoying their stunned reaction.

“Lived there...” Garet began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“Yes, dearie, when Trax's grandfather, Sortick, was on the throne, I was his favourite concubine,” she said, smiling until her eyes almost disappeared into folds of wrinkled flesh.

“You, er, were a concubine?” Salick asked. The cup the Bane held was suspended half-way to her lips and seemed likely to remain there.

“That's right, dearie, and the prettiest one of the lot, or so old Sortick used to say,” Alanick replied. “He was always giving me gifts, sheep mostly, because he had much too many of them at the time, but as I say, eat what's on your plate, so I became a shepherdess when Sortick passed on, and I made a good living thanks to him.” She slapped her round stomach and leaned back, sighing, temporarily lost in her memories.

This gave time for Salick and Garet to look sternly at each other until they could speak again. In the silence, he heard a potter's wheel rumbling in the shop below and wondered how many people in the city would be unable to sleep in these dangerous times.

Garet asked, “In your time in the Palace, Mistress, did you see anything that would help us now? You know what's at stake.”

The old woman's smile disappeared. “Yes I do, lad, perhaps even more than you do.” She heaved herself off the cushions of her chair and walked over to a set of drawers. Rummaging through them, she pulled out a small square of silk, framed in ivory and brought it over to show the two Banes.

“Careful with this! It's the oldest star chart in the city, maybe in the Five Cities combined,” she told them, laying the yellowed silk chart on the table before them.

It showed familiar constellations, all in their right places, as far as Garet could discern. Writing symbols, though oddly shaped, ran in ornate notations beside each major constellation.

“These are our stars, now, this very night,” he said. “But don't they change over time, pass through the different, ah ‘zones,' as you said in the market.”

“So, you remember that, dearie,” Alanick said, smiling a bit. “I knew when I saw your stars that you would be involved in great things.” She slapped a hand to her chest. “Let your Master Tanock dispute with me now!”

Salick bit her lower lip and, after a few deep breaths, said, “That Master has...retired, Mistress.” She leaned forward and pointed at the chart. “But isn't Garet right, I mean, why should an old chart show the exact pattern of tonight's stars?”

“Because the greatest of all cycles in Heaven has just completed itself,” the astrologer replied, her voice deepening to its professional level. “The stars are as they were six-hundred years ago, when Shirath was founded. It was under these stars that the first Banehall Master and the first King together laid the stones of the city wall,” she explained. “Here,” she said, pointing at the symbols on the side of the chart. “Here is where the zones are listed. The stars that govern all our fates now pass through the Zone of Change, just as they did six centuries ago. Things are occurring now that have not happened for six hundred years.” She folded her arms and looked down at them.

“Does that mean that the Caller De...” he started, then stopped as he saw her eyes widen at his intended word, “I mean the new beast that's loose in the city now, is that what's returned?”

“Perhaps,” was all she would say.

“But what about the Midlands?” Salick asked. “There were no problems there six hundred years ago!”

“How do we know that?” Garet said, before Alanick could bristle a response. “And besides, change doesn't mean the same change, over and over again.”

Alanick nodded at that, and after a moment's hesitation, put away the chart and poured more tea to replenish their cold cups. Planting herself on the cushions again, she leaned forward, all business, and began to speak.

“If you want to get into the Palace, you'll have to get past the guards and the Duelists who surround it day and night now,” she began. “That prancing fool, Shoronict, is back and in charge of them. He's always putting his nose into everything. Some say he means to be a Lord himself, perhaps he'll take Andarack's place if the King has him banished.” She shook her head and took a sip of her tea and biscuit mix.

“How do we get past them?” Salick demanded. Her hands curled around the cup, the contents trembling a bit inside.

“I'm getting to that, dearie,” Alanick said. “There's a baker in this street who delivers to the Palace. Trax likes his sweet buns for breakfast, Tomick says. He delivers them at the beginning of the fourth watch, only an hour or so before dawn. He owes me money, so I can convince him to let you two take the delivery there for him.” She sat back, satisfied with her plan. “He owes me too much to ask questions, though it'll worry him half to death!” She seemed pleased with the prospect.

BOOK: City of Demons
6.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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