A Kingdom Lost Read online

  Katya strode through the darkened streets; the chill in the air allowed her to keep her hood up without arousing suspicion. Brutal had traded his red robe for homespun, not wanting to attract attention as a member of a strength chapterhouse. Random duels were a luxury they couldn’t afford.

  They found a modestly reputable bar, the seat of all gossip no matter the town. They mingled with the middle class, posing as merchants and keeping away from the wealthier taverns and anywhere low-rent enough to be dangerous. No information would come from any establishment too discreet or too wary for questions.

  Talk of what had happened in Marienne had just reached Pomanse. Katya took that as a good sign. News traveled faster than troops. Maybe Roland’s reach wouldn’t extend this far for quite some time.

  Of course, sympathy for the Umbriels might not extend this far either. Most of the people who lived and worked in Pomanse had been born there, and news of Marienne might as well have been news out of Allusia for all it affected them.

  “Is he going to increase taxes, this new king?” one merchant asked. He twisted a gold ring on his finger as if afraid Roland might march through the door and snatch it away.

  “Depends on who’s in charge,” one of the laborers answered. She stuffed an olive in her mouth and didn’t wait to chew before she spoke again. “Think we’ll get a new noble?”

  The merchant leaned away, picking olive bits off his coat.

  Katya shrugged as if she was as ignorant as they were. “What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?”

  The laborer laughed, making the merchant back farther away. “Oh, nothing, except she gallivants off to court instead of sticking around and keeping up her own estate.”

  “That’s what henchmen are for,” the merchant said.

  “Ha!” The laborer poked him in the arm. “Sounds like you want to be nominated, eh, Master High and Mighty? Want to be Count Nose In the Air?”

  Katya drifted away as the two fell to bickering. Duchess Skelda owned Pomanse and the land surrounding it, and she hadn’t made it out of Marienne with Katya’s party. She was likely dead, unless she’d convinced Roland that she stood with him. Katya nearly snorted at the thought. Roland wouldn’t settle for words. The more she learned about how he’d wanted to operate the Order, the more she thought he would simply change minds via pyramid rather than believe what anyone said.

  Katya started a few rumors, just to make things difficult should Roland try to spread propaganda. She called him a monster and described some things she’d seen in Marienne—as a merchant, of course. She told of how people were slaughtered and brought back to life as Roland’s soldiers. Few believed her, but that didn’t matter as much as the opportunity to sow doubt.

  After Katya and her friends left their second bar, they paused, backs to a closed shop where no one could eavesdrop.

  “What do you think?” Katya asked.

  “We could put ashore here,” Brutal said. “And go inland. Roland hasn’t come this far east.”

  “But where are we going to get an army?” Castelle said. “These people haven’t felt Roland’s monstrous side. They have no reason to rebel.”

  Katya stroked her chin. That was the truth. With barely any muscle behind her, she couldn’t conscript people. She and her family would have to convince them to leave their families and risk their lives. Even the local Watch would have more loyalty to their own people than to some crown hundreds of miles away, and Da had no local noble to back him up.

  “We have to convince them that they can’t let Roland get more of a foothold than he already has,” Katya said.

  “They didn’t believe us when we told them what he’s capable of,” Castelle said. “We’d have to tone him down a bit.”

  Brutal snickered. “We’re the, ‘the usurper is not as bad as all that’ party?”

  “You could probably get the local strength chapterhouses on our side, Brutal.”

  “Maybe. If we let the local pyradistés pry around in our brains, they could convince people we’re telling the truth.”

  Castelle grimaced. “That can’t happen to you or your family, Highness. I guess that leaves Brutal and me.”

  Katya frowned, both at the “Highness” and at the thought of someone picking through her memories. “No, you and Brutal know things other people can’t have access to. And if you can’t bring yourself to use my real name, use my cover.”

  “Miss Marchesa Gant, then, begging your pardon.”

  Katya swallowed her temper. “Let’s tell my father what we’ve found out. The ultimate decision is his.” Brutal and Castelle followed her to the docks. As they neared the slip for the pilot ship, they heard Captain Penner’s raised voice from the small customs shack near the water.

  “What in all the spirits’ names is a writ of declaration?” Captain Penner yelled. “I’ve been sailing these waters for twenty years, and I’ve never heard of the damn thing!”

  Katya crept to the edge of the shack and peeked in a dusty window. Captain Penner had her fists on her hips, staring down the harbormaster. The purser was nowhere to be seen.

  The harbormaster wore the badge of office around his neck, but the resemblance to every other harbormaster Katya had met ended there. His coat was far too nice, and he had lace at his cuffs. He wrung his hands and sweated. The harbormaster of Lucienne-by-the-Sea, where Katya and her family had started their journey, had been a huge man who didn’t take guff off of anyone, ship’s captain or no. And he didn’t dress like a dandy on his way to a ball. How could this sweaty, shaking man run an entire port if he couldn’t take being yelled at by one captain?

  “It’s a new policy,” he whined. “Just…just came down a few days ago, in fact.”

  “Came down from whom?”

  “The…duchess.”

  Katya slipped her rapier free and heard Brutal and Castelle draw their weapons. Duchess Skelda couldn’t have beaten them back to her home port. And if she’d sent orders after the uprising in Marienne, it wouldn’t have been for writs pertaining to docking ships.

  Captain Penner narrowed her eyes. She knew all that as well as Katya. She stepped close to the sweaty harbormaster. “And how does one get a writ of declaration?”

  “You…you apply.”

  “And how long does it take?”

  “Um…hours, only. Maybe a day, maybe.” His eyes darted toward the door.

  “Go in, Brutal,” Katya said. Whatever or whoever the harbormaster was waiting for, Katya wouldn’t give them the chance to arrive.

  Brutal smashed the window with his mace. While the harbormaster screamed, Brutal leapt the sill and hoisted the harbormaster into the air.

  Katya spoke through the window, waiting outside. “Who are you waiting for?”

  He only gibbered. Brutal gave him a shake.

  “There is no writ,” Katya said after he’d quieted. “You’re delaying the captain while you sent for someone. I want to know who.”

  He shook his head. “Please.”

  “Tell me, or I’ll tell them you aided the captain instead of hindering her.”

  “Please, please, I was only supposed to tell him if someone came into port from the west. He’s got my cousin, the real harbormaster, and I don’t know what I’m doing, so please—”

  Brutal dropped him. It had to be one of Roland’s spies. “Come on,” Katya said, waving Brutal and Captain Penner toward the window. “If you go out the front, you might run into him.”

  “We don’t have our supplies!” Captain Penner said. “And Mr. Sumpson is still on the docks.”

  “We’ll grab what we can carry as well as the purser, but we have to move.”

  The door banged open just as the captain began to climb out the window. Katya’s stomach shrank as Darren, Roland’s chief thug, stood framed in the doorway.

  Dressed in a black coat and trousers, painfully nefarious, he smiled and stepped inside. Two dead-eyed, gray-skinned corpse Fiends followed him, long knives in their bony fingers and the glint of a p
yramid just visible under their broad brimmed hats.

  “Well, well,” Darren said, “so it is you. And to think, I was just about to leave this backwater and set my friends here to watch for you.” He grinned wider, his mouth stretching too wide as his features blurred. “I’m so glad I waited.” Horns jutted from his brow, just below his dark hair, and his eyes bled to all brown, no pupil or iris. Fangs pressed down from his lips, and the sense of cold rolling off him made gooseflesh ripple up Katya’s body.

  Captain Penner nearly fell through the window, blocking Katya’s path. Brutal rushed Darren, but the two corpse Fiends stepped forward.

  Katya pulled Captain Penner out of the way and dumped her on the ground. She hopped through the window and dashed for the harbormaster just as Darren bent to grab him. Katya sliced toward Darren’s neck, but he pulled away with the blurred speed of a Fiend. The harbormaster scuttled away.

  Darren laughed, the noise grating on Katya’s ears over the sounds of Brutal and now Castelle fighting the two corpse Fiends. Maybe Darren would be his usual annoying self and taunt her until Brutal and Castelle could help with him.

  No such luck. He slashed with his claws. Katya barely blocked. He wasn’t as fast as Roland, but he was much improved. Maybe he’d been chastised for his tendency to talk when he should have been fighting. A cracking noise came from Katya’s left, and one of the corpse Fiends fell to the ground.

  Katya kicked a chair at Darren. He smashed it out of the way and leapt at her. She stabbed his arm, but he took the blow and rammed into her, knocking her down. Katya kicked him and winced as her ankle threatened to buckle against his hardened flesh. She rammed her rapier guard into his face as he loomed over her. He winced and pulled back, so she hammered at him, but he got a claw past her punches and gashed her cheek. Katya ignored the flare of pain and tried to back him off enough to stand.

  Someone shrieked, and Darren turned as something smacked him in the head. Katya hopped to her feet. The harbormaster wept and screeched like all the Fiends in the world were at his back. Still, he whipped a bucket to and fro, his face purple with effort. Darren snarled and slapped the bucket out of his hands. Katya darted in and stabbed Darren in the chest, though it barely slowed him. She thought on Starbride’s words about these created Fiends. They needed a pyramid to help them control the monster within. Lady Hilda’s had been buried in the back of her neck.

  Katya came at Darren with a series of powerful thrusts, trying to get him to turn, even for a moment. Castelle jumped behind Darren, and he whipped around.

  There, a glint at the back of his neck, under his hair. Katya thrust.

  Darren’s hand snaked up, impossibly fast, and grabbed her rapier. Blood pooled around his fingers as they closed on the blade, and with one jerk of his arm, he snapped the end off.

  Castelle chopped at his wrist, but Darren kicked her into the corner. Katya tried to stab with her blunted sword. It could still shatter the pyramid if she hit hard enough.

  Darren spun and aimed a punch at her face. Katya dropped down and rolled away. She came up hard against Brutal’s legs, stopping him, but he swung at Darren anyway. It was Darren’s turn to duck, and he and Katya were briefly eye-to-eye. He winked at her, the bastard, and flung her broken sword tip.

  Katya jerked her arm in front of her face and the broken tip punched into the back of her hand like a dagger. Darren shot to his feet just as the harbormaster tried to tackle him.

  “Where is my cousin?” the harbormaster screamed. “What did you do to him?”

  “Get back!” Brutal said.

  Castelle grabbed the harbormaster’s coat and tried to jerk him away. Brutal pulled Katya upright just as Darren pitched the harbormaster through the window.

  Outside, someone shouted, “City Watch! Throw down your weapons and surrender!”

  Katya nearly cursed. Captain Penner had fetched the Watch, but maybe they could turn that to their advantage. Darren sighed as if the whole series of events was one big nuisance, but then he grinned his too-wide smile.

  “I have more pets,” he said. “Your uncle’s creations. Surrender to me, and I won’t have this place burned to the ground.”

  Katya laughed at him. “Or we could kill you now.”

  Brutal swung his mace, trying to drive Darren into Castelle’s waiting blade. He went where they wanted, but he ducked Castelle’s thrust, and she barely parried his strike from below. It forced her farther into the corner, giving him room to maneuver. Katya stepped closer to keep him from the door.

  “Leave this town,” he said, “and you condemn it.” He ran into the wall, knocking his way through in a loud crunch. Katya stepped after him, but saw only a Watch officer trying to pick himself up where he’d been knocked over.

  Katya stepped back from the hole and called her surrender to the Watch. They trooped out of the shack one by one. Luckily, Captain Penner stood up for them, and the harbormaster confirmed that Katya had been trying to help him. Even with the dead corpse Fiends, the Watch remained skeptical of their story.

  Captain Penner leaned close to Katya’s ear. “These things know you’re here. There’s no use in hiding. I think your father should address this.”

  Katya’s mouth set in a firm line as she wrapped a bandage around her bleeding hand. She had no doubt Darren meant what he said. As experienced as the Watch might be, they were no match for Darren and his corpse Fiends. He could raze the town.

  Unless they were ready for him. Katya’s father could talk them into getting ready; she had every faith. Maybe the revolution would start in Pomanse after all.

  Chapter Four

  Starbride

  Starbride walked dark stone hallways. Pyramids set in the rock flickered with each step she took. Screams echoed around her from victims she couldn’t see, and the smell of damp rock permeated the air.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  Footsteps boomed down the corridor behind her, and the walls shook, sending dust swirling through the tunnel. Fear trickled through her like icy water. Roland was searching for her.

  She ran, but no twists or turns presented themselves. Roland was inside the secret passages with her, and he knew them so well, better than she.

  If she could only get out of the walls, get to Katya, everything would be all right. Down the corridor, just at the edge of her vision, a blond woman ran. Starbride’s heart leapt, but she couldn’t call out. If she made a sound, Roland would find her. He’d turn her into a monster and set her loose among the people she was trying to save, among the people she’d already condemned. Why wouldn’t Katya turn?

  “Miss Starbride?”

  She turned toward the voice, the only one that wasn’t screaming, but she couldn’t stop running. The footsteps were getting closer, and Katya was pulling away from her. “Don’t leave me!” she screamed.

  “Miss Starbride!”

  When someone grabbed her shoulder, Starbride shot upright and cried out.

  In the small, basement room of their hideout, Hugo backed away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “What?” Starbride blinked at him. On the table in front of her, her candle had burned down to almost nothing. Her arms rested on a large book. Pyramid crystal and the little tools she used to work it lay scattered around. A little spot of drool marred the pages of the book where her head had rested, and she shifted her arm to cover it.

  “Maybe you should try sleeping in the bed,” Hugo said.

  Starbride shook her head and tried clear the cobwebs from her brain. “I can sleep later.”

  He frowned, but when she matched him look for look, he raised his hands in surrender. Maybe he’d already figured out that she’d hear the same from Dawnmother.

  “Was there something you needed, Hugo?”

  He bit his lip and shuffled his feet, reminding her that only days before he’d turned fourteen. In the low light of the candle, his face seemed even younger. “I had a…book when I was a little younger. It was, well, it was stories of in
famous people.”

  A worrying feeling settled in Starbride’s stomach, but she gestured for him to continue.

  He sat at the very edge of the bed. “It was a really popular book, probably because it was pretty small. They printed enough of them that we had it even out in the country, where I lived with my mother before…” He cleared his throat. “Well, when we went out today to get supplies, I found one easier than I thought. I guess everyone is still fascinated by blood, even after what the city’s been through.”

  “Hugo, your point, please?”

  He pulled a very slim, soft-covered book from inside his coat. “Please don’t scream or anything.” He reminded her so much of Freddie’s similar words that she knew whose face Hugo was about to show her.

  “Freddie Ballantine,” the caption read, “the Dockland Butcher.” The artist had gotten the angle of the jaw right and the set of the eyes. The short hair was right, but the picture had no sideburns. Still, the line of the forehead was exactly Freddie’s. The nose was a little off, and for some reason, the artist had sharpened Freddie’s teeth to points and given him a snarl so feral he looked like a wild animal. Starbride scanned the accompanying paragraphs: the story of ten murders, of Freddie’s arrest after he’d been found with a dead body, and then of his eventual hanging, daring escape, and final death during a fight with the Watch.

  “He perished in the same Fiendish fires which bore him,” she read. She nearly laughed, both at the error that Fiends were hot instead of cold and at the prose itself. She bet the story would bore Freddie were he to read it again. She had no doubt he’d seen the book before.

  Tired as she was, she considered telling Hugo the truth. Surely all of Pennynail’s acts of heroism would convince Hugo that this “Butcher” story was a lie.

  But no, she couldn’t do that. It wasn’t her secret to tell. “What am I supposed to be afraid of, Hugo? This man is dead.”

  “This…is the man I saw in here the other day. Whoever he told you he is, he’s lying. Pennynail is…this.”