Django Wexler - The Shadow Throne

“Well?” Cora said. “Let’s hear him, then.”

“Yes,” Maurisk said, briefly pausing in his pacing beside the window. “Let’s.” His sharp tone made it clear what he thought of this entire enterprise.

“We may need some time to get ready,” Ben said. “He’ll need some coaching, obviously. And-”

“No,” Raesinia interrupted. “He won’t. Danton?”

“Hmm?” He looked up from his beer and smiled. “Yes, Princess?”

Faro raised an eyebrow. “Princess?”

“Because of the name,” Raesinia said, trying to sound amused. “Danton, do you remember the story I told you this afternoon?”

“I do. I like stories.”

Maurisk snorted and stalked back to the window.

Raesinia ignored him. “Do you think you could tell that one to everyone right now?”

“Of course!”

He set his glass carefully on the floor and got out of his chair. Standing, he made for a somewhat intimidating figure, almost as big as Ben, with wild, unkempt hair and ragged clothes Raesinia hadn’t had time to replace. His face went slack, eyes slightly unfocused, and Raesinia held her breath.

Then he began:

Where are you, thief? Step into the light, sir

Like an honest highwayman, show yourself

And I’ll spit into your skull, match my sword

Against your scythe, and show you the power

Of a man wronged, and sworn to black revenge. .

It was Illian’s Act Two speech from The Wreck , the darling of every would-be actor and dramatist, a tirade against Death that built to a roaring, frenzied crescendo. Raesinia had heard it before, probably a hundred times, often from men reputed to be among the finest actors of the age. But it seemed to her that no command performance at the palace had ever matched this one. She could feel Illian’s rage, the crawling frustration of revenge denied, marooned on a deserted island while the murderer of his true love sailed away to a hero’s reward. Danton himself seemed to vanish, subsumed by this creature of anger and hatred, a wild tiger thrashing helplessly against the bars of its cage until it was bloody with the effort.

Her breath came out in a hiss, unnoticed, only to catch again when he came to the climax. Illian, despairing, hurled himself from the promontory, all the while daring Death to lay a skeletal finger on him. Raesinia could feel the air rushing all around her, and the shocking cold of the final impact.

“From this world, or from the next, I will have-”

Danton stopped. Illian hits the water; the lights go down; the curtain falls. Intermission while they change the sets for Act Three. Raesinia let out a long, shaky breath. Danton smiled at her, flopped back into his chair, and reached for his beer.

“Brass balls of the fucking Beast,” Maurisk swore.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Faro said. “How long did it take to teach him that?”

“No longer than it took him to say it,” Raesinia said. “He can’t read, but if you start telling him a story, he remembers everything . He had it word-perfect, first try, and it was”-she shivered-“like that.”

Cora was huddled in her chair. Sarton was staring at Danton, unblinking, and Ben at Raesinia with something like admiration. There was a long silence.

“So,” Faro said, “is he a wizard? A demon? That can’t be natural. How does he know how to say it?”

Maurisk snorted again. “Don’t start that Sworn Church nonsense-”

“I don’t care if he is,” Raesinia said, cutting off the argument. “Sorcerer, demon, whatever you can think of. We need him. He can be the symbol we’ve been looking for.” Besides, she thought, I’m not exactly in a position to look down on a little magical assistance. She wondered if Danton’s binding had been forced on him, as hers had been, and felt a pang of sympathy for the man.

“Maybe,” Maurisk said. Something new had entered his voice. He was seeing the possibilities.

“We’ll need somewhere for him to stay,” Raesinia said.

“I can find something,” Faro said, staring.

“Good.” Raesinia hesitated. “Do you think you could also. . clean him up a bit?”

“He does have a certain lunatic-beggar charm, doesn’t he?” Faro smiled. “I’ll take care of it.”

Raesinia turned. “Ben, you find us a venue. Somewhere not too public, not yet. And with plenty of ways out in case something goes badly wrong. Maurisk, Sarton, you’re in charge of the text. You’re writing for the masses, so go easy on the classical allusions, and remember that not everyone knows Rights of Man by heart.”

Cora looked up. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks streaked with tears, but she was grinning now. “Can I sell tickets? We’d make a fortune.”

“We already have a fortune.”

“ Another fortune.” The girl shrugged. “All right. Maybe later.”

–

By the time they broke up, it had gone three in the morning. The air was still as damp and warm as a laundry, and the street was scarcely better than inside. The members of the conspiracy left one at a time, going their separate ways, except for Faro, Cora, Raesinia, and Danton.

“All right,” Raesinia said to Danton. “I’d like you to go with Faro. He’ll find you somewhere to sleep, and make sure you get plenty to eat as well. Please do what he says until I get back.”

Danton nodded amiably, wobbling a bit. He’d put away an astonishing amount of beer over the course of the evening. “Sure. Okay, Princess.”

Raesinia winced inwardly. She’d told him to stop calling her that, but the admonition had gone through his mind like lead shot through custard, without leaving much of an impression. “All right. Faro, you’re going to be okay?”

“No problem.” He smiled and sauntered out, with Danton following like an obedient puppy.

Raesinia turned to Cora. The teenager had washed her face, but her eyes were still red.

“Are you all right?”

Cora gave a vigorous nod. “Fine. It was just that speech. I’d never heard anything so. .” She shook her head. “Do you really think it’s magic?”

“I have no idea, and I don’t care if it is.” Raesinia smiled. “Have you never seen The Wreck ? We’ll have to take you sometime. Leonard Vinschaft is doing Illian at the Royal now, and I’ve heard he’s amazing.”

Even as she said it, Raesinia wondered if she would get any pleasure out of the show. After all, how could another rendition compare to Danton’s?

Good God. She stared after him for a minute while Cora put on her coat. He’s a weapon, isn’t he? A bomb that we’re going to set and prime, light the fuse, and hope we’ve found the right place to stand. .

The two of them left the room and said their good-byes in front of the Mask. Raesinia waited until Cora had turned the corner, then said, “When I tell you what happened to me today, you’re not going to believe it.”

Sothe materialized out of the shadows. She’d traded her maid outfit for her working blacks, drab and almost invisible in the darkness, bunched tight to her body with leather cords so that no hanging fabric would betray her with a whisper.

“There’s news from the palace,” Sothe said.

Raesinia’s breath caught in her throat. “My father?” Too soon, it’s too soon. We’re not ready! Those were her first thoughts, followed promptly by a crushing wave of guilt. My father is dying, and all I care about is-

“No,” Sothe said. “Vhalnich has arrived.”

“Already?” Raesinia frowned. “I thought he wasn’t expected for another few weeks at least.”

“Apparently he left his command and made a faster crossing.”