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Authors: Brian Farrey

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15

Jubilee

“Better a lie be told by one before all, than by all before one.”

—The Lymmaris Creed

A
week later, when we arrived in Vesta, the Jubilee was already in full swing. The entire population of the capital city had turned out into the streets, eating their fill of scorchcake and roast hemmon. Strings of purple and black pennants wove a web high overhead, connecting every rooftop. Mobs of people choked every pathway, making travel across the city difficult at best.

Except when the Sentinels approached. Then people suddenly found space to move.

Even though we had his spellsphere, Xerrus had somehow warned the Palatinate. Sentinels were everywhere, peering through their blank-faced masks for any sign that the Creche escapees had arrived in Vesta. Luda ripped the awning from outside an alchemist's shop and tore us each a square of the fabric. We wrapped ourselves in the makeshift shawls and, eyes down, scurried through the crowd.

We found Ma and Da's third-floor room at the Bellraven Inn. When Ma opened the door, she squealed with delight. Aubrin jumped into her arms while Da pulled me into a hug. But the joyful reunion was very short. Ma's smile quickly soured. “Luda?” she asked, spotting the Satyran next to Callie. “And where's Maloch?”

We stepped inside and I launched into the story of everything that had happened at the Creche. Ma and Da listened closely to every detail, nodding at each revelation. They didn't seem the least bit surprised to learn that the Palatinate was planning to overthrow the High Laird. When I finished, they considered carefully.

“On the one hand,” Da said, “a ship leaves in half an hour. We could all be on it and safely away before any of this nastiness occurs.”

“On the other hand,” Ma said, a mischievous smile twisting her lips, “we could stop the Palatinate and put the High Laird in our debt for the rest of our lives.”

It was hard to say which idea appealed more. The Grimjinx instinct for self-preservation was a powerful force, and leaving was certainly the easiest option.

“It's a tough decision,” I said. “Running is a noble Grimjinx tradition. But I've found that using cleverness to get out of impossible scrapes can be just as fulfilling.”

Aubrin cast the deciding vote. “If the Palatinate takes over,” she said quietly, “everyone will suffer. Thousands will die. I've seen it. But it doesn't have to happen that way. If we end this here and now . . .” She paused, casting a small glance in my direction. “We can save lives.”

It was all Ma and Da needed to hear.

“So, are we going to catch that ship before the onslaught begins?” Callie asked teasingly.

“And miss the chance to put ‘saved the Five Provinces' in the family album?” Ma asked. “Never.”

Da put his arm around Ma's waist and pulled her close. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

“So, what's the plan?” I asked.

Ma tsked. “Need I remind you what Hallimor Grimjinx always said?”

Aubrin grinned. “‘Who steals first, steals best.'”

“Exactly!” Da said. “We've got the seers. Now let's get those relics.”

We left the inn and wove our way through the busy streets. Da stopped to pull a flyer from a nearby wall. We gathered around as Da held up the schedule of today's events.

“Pity, we missed the hammer throw,” Ma said. “I bet Luda would have scored top marks there. Let's see. . . . The High Laird's speech is in ten minutes. Then the Veiled Sisterhood of All Things Eternal will do a celebratory dance. Oh, that could go on forever. . . . Then the High Laird will present the relics to Nalia.” She looked at Da and smiled.

Da tapped the schedule. “It's like they've gone out of their way to make it easy.”

“Easy?” Callie asked. She pointed down the road to the stage. Spectators lined the lip of the tall wooden platform, shoulder to shoulder and impossible to bypass. All along the edge of the stage, Provincial Guards and Sentinels stood watch. “How will
that
be easy?”

But Ma's attention was on a dress shop across the way. A sign hung in the window reading
CLOSED FOR THE JUBILEE
. “Tell me, Callie, didn't you train in dance with the widow Bellatin . . . ?”

I've always been proud of Ma. As a thief at the top of her game, she'd assisted in the ransacking of the par-Dwarf fire mausoleums. Her forgeries of Satyran money nearly bankrupted the island of Rexin. But even though I'd have given anything for her skills, there was no way I would have traded places with her inside the dress shop.

“Just close your eyes, Luda,” Ma said in a soothing voice. “And take a deep breath . . . now!”

Luda gripped a pillar, squeezed her eyes shut, and inhaled. Behind her, Ma yanked on the strings of Luda's new corset. The mighty Satyran warrior's eyes bulged as her midsection shrank. Together, Ma and I struggled to tie the strings. When it was all done, we stepped back and Ma beamed.

“There!” she cried. “Now aren't you . . . a sight.”

Her armor in a nearby heap, Luda was wrapped from horn to hoof in great swaths of sheer orange gossamer. The dress shop didn't have anything large enough to fit a towering Satyran, so Ma had improvised and wrapped bolt after bolt of fabric around Luda like an Aviard mummy.

“This will not do!” Luda said. “I cannot protect you if I am
dainty
!”

“You don't need to protect anyone,” Ma reminded her. “You just have to help us get to the relics.”

“Hey, Luda!” I twirled to show off my flowing blue gown. I pulled a matching piece of gossamer across my face. “Think I make a great Veiled Sister?”

“Indeed,” Luda said.

The door to the shop opened. Callie, Da, and Aubrin entered, already wearing the dresses and veils Ma had gotten them. Da passed me two of the pouches from my belt.

“You really know your sleeping draughts, son,” Da said as I reattached the pouches to my belt.

Aubrin nodded. “I slipped the herbs into their tea just like you told me. The Sisterhood will be asleep for hours.”

“I found the relics,” Callie said. “At the back of the stage, there's a round dais with a box on top. There are two Provincial Guards in front of the box.”

She glanced at me nervously. Ma, Da, and Luda were crucial to our plan. They were big enough to mask the view to the relics box. Ma and Da weren't about to let Aubrin out of their sight, so she was staying close to them. And Callie's dancing ability was the reason we had a diversion at all. That left
me
responsible for nicking the relics. Callie had a right to be nervous, given my . . . history.

“Have a little faith,” I said, trying to sound far more confident than I felt. If it all worked out, we could be halfway to the city limits by the time anyone realized the relics were gone. And then we'd force the High Laird to listen to us. We'd show him what was going on at the Creche. And we'd be heroes.

Again.

Really, if we didn't stop doing this sort of thing, it was going to ruin our reputation as scoundrels.

A brassy fanfare rent the air outside. We peeked out from the shop's window and watched as the Lordcourt, led by Nalia, sauntered onto the stage and took their seats. A feeble mage who walked with the assistance of a staff took a seat behind the Lordcourt. His left arm hung in a sling; a large white bandage clung to his shoulder.

Xerrus. That made things trickier.

With the crowd's attention on the stage, we exited the shop just as Chancellor Karadin strode down the middle of the platform, waving to the crowd.

“Good citizens of Vesta,” the Chancellor called out. “Where once there was chaos, now there is order. Where once there was sadness, now there is joy. All that we are, we owe to the Soranna family. It is thanks to their wisdom and guidance that we are here today. We are Five Provinces but we are one in spirit.”

The crowd didn't seem impressed. I couldn't blame them. Karadin's treacle-like admiration was a mite much.

“Today, we celebrate five hundred years of rule under the House of Soranna. Good people, I present your sovereign, the High Laird Gadris Soranna!”

As the High Laird took the stage, the applause was polite at best. I even heard a few boos. But when members of the Provincial Guard moved to the edge of the stage, the crowd offered respectful, if grudging, quiet. Unhappy as they were with the High Laird, people still feared him. And given how erratic his behavior had been recently, no one was willing to protest
too
much and end up in Umbramore Tower.

“My people,” the High Laird said, “when my ancestor Mannis Soranna formed the Five Provinces, he sought to unify a land divided. But he did not do it alone. Wise as he was, he knew he would need even wiser counsel to advise him. To this end, he consulted the most sagacious mages he knew and they formed the Palatinate. This Jubilee, we honor not only my family's legacy of benevolence but also the service of the Palatinate, which has governed the use of magic with fairness and intelligence. Without these mages . . .”

The High Laird droned on and on, singing Nalia's praises to the point where I thought I might actually be sick. The head of the Lordcourt did her best to accept the praise with the appearance of modesty, but her eyes rarely strayed from the relics box.

Ma led us quietly toward the tent where the Sisterhood slumbered. We crept around the side, waiting to be summoned. Subdued applause told us the High Laird had finished. The Chancellor nodded in our direction.

“That's our cue,” Da whispered.

The six of us took the stage, faces veiled. Thousands of eyes watched from the sea of people before us. Callie moved to the center. “Just follow me,” she said quietly.

The band launched into a lively reel with tin flutes piping and oxinas strumming at a breakneck pace. Callie's jaw dropped and I realized: the widow had trained her to dance like a lady. Ladies danced
slowly
. Nothing in her training had prepared her for this.

But if it fazed her, it was only for a second. With a joyous whoop, Callie leaped straight up, arms out and legs spread. The rest of us followed a split second later, a far less graceful echo.

As the music took off, Callie twirled and hopped around the stage, spinning and bending in a completely made-up dance. But she sold it.

Aubrin took after Callie. She stood on her tiptoes and frolicked around, mirroring Callie to perfection. I wish I could say the same for Ma and Da. At first, they did their best to imitate Callie. But when she proved far more flexible, they gave up and just started to flail about like they were going through the spasm stage of blackbone fever.

Luda surprised us all. She remained in the dead center, her arms slicing the air with graceful precision. Every so often, she would jump, her legs shooting out in magnificent arcs. Soon all eyes were on her as she whirled about like she had a grudge against the emptiness around her.

I stayed near the back, gyrating my hips and swishing my arms side to side as I inched closer to the relics box. The guards were too busy watching Luda, who'd scooped up Aubrin and starting twirling her, one-handed, high in the air. Casually, I sneaked behind them to the back of the box.

Odd as we looked, the crowd seemed to appreciate us. The wilder the dance got, the more they whistled and tossed coins on the stage. I kept one eye on the Lordcourt, who'd begun muttering to one another. They were anxious to get their hands on the relics. I had to be quick.

I pulled out my picks.
Please,
I thought to any deity willing to listen,
let me do this just this once. I swear I'll never try to pick another lock again.

Just then, the music stopped. The crowd burst into applause as my family froze in place. I could see Da looking around for me. When he spotted me near the box, I wiggled my thumb to tell him I needed more time. He threw back his head and called out in a high-pitched voice, “One more time!”

BOOK: The Grimjinx Rebellion
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