Django Wexler - The Shadow Throne

The Vendre had fallen.

RAESINIA

“Raes!”

“Cor-”

Raesinia didn’t have time to get the word out before the girl hit her at speed, knocking the wind out of her and hugging her so tightly she had trouble sucking in another breath. Raesinia let this go on for a while, but eventually she tapped Cora on the shoulder, indicating that a slight decrease in pressure would be appreciated. Raesinia didn’t really need to breathe, but it was difficult to talk without air in her lungs.

“Cora,” she got out, once she was able. “Are you all right?”

“More or less,” Cora said, still pressed close against Raesinia’s shoulder. “They were a little rough when they tied us up.”

“They didn’t. .” Raesinia hesitated, and Cora gave her a squeeze.

“I’m fine. The black-coats were threatening some of the women, but the captain replaced them with Armsmen before anything came of it.”

“Thank God.” Raesinia had been having waking nightmares of finally taking the prison, only to find a pile of mangled corpses, in spite of what Abby had told her. “Have you seen Sarton? We heard he was taken as well.”

“I saw him just now,” Cora said, and made a face. “He was walking around on the old prison levels. They have machines there for. . well, for a lot of unpleasant things. You know Sarton and machines, though, whatever they’re for.”

“I know.” The ghost of a smile crossed Raesinia’s lips, then vanished. “Cora. .”

“What about the others?” Cora looked up. Her hair was a rat’s-nest tangle, and her eyes were red from crying, but there were no tears there now. “Were they arrested?”

“Maurisk is downstairs, arguing with someone, I suspect. Faro as well.” Raesinia closed her eyes. “Ben. . Ben’s dead.”

She felt Cora’s hands tighten on the back of her shirt. “He. . you’re sure?”

“I was with him. He saved my life.” That was a lie, of course, but she thought it a kind one under the circumstances. “Orlanko’s men tried to kill us both.”

“Ben. .” Cora swallowed hard. “God. I never thought things would get this bad.”

Guilt made a lump in Raesinia’s throat. “Neither did I.”

There was a long silence. Eventually Cora loosened her grip and stepped away. They were in one of the Vendre’s tower rooms, long disused and empty except for dust and an ancient table and chairs. Raesinia went to one of the latter and sat down, gingerly, half expecting it to collapse. It let out a groan, but held for the moment.

“What the hell happened ?” Cora said. “The guards wouldn’t tell us much. Just that there was a mob attacking the prison.”

“They arrested Danton,” Raesinia said. “The Armsmen did, I think, but afterward the Concordat must have thought it was time to make a clean sweep. They picked people up all over the city.”

“I know,” Cora said. “I was at the church in Oldtown. We sent everyone out the back when we saw them coming. I was going to try talking to them, but they just kicked in the door and grabbed me before I could say a word.”

Raesinia nodded. “They’re onto us, obviously. It was bound to happen eventually. I just didn’t think the Last Duke would try something like this . He’s supposed to be smarter than that.”

“But where did this riot come from?”

“All over. A woman named Mad Jane brought a huge gang of Docksiders over because they’d taken some friends of hers. I went to the Dregs and helped Maurisk round up the students and hangers-on. And once it got started people showed up on their own. I think half the city must be down there now.”

Cora shook her head. She glanced at the gun slit in the wall, where a faint gray light was just starting to make itself felt against the glow of the candles.

“It’s nearly morning,” she said. “What happens now?”

“I don’t know.” Raesinia shook her head. What she wanted more than anything else was time . Time to let emotions cool, time to gather the scattered members of her cabal and make a proper plan, time to get her own head in order. Time to mourn Ben the way he deserved. But she was equally aware that she was not going to get it. Half the city might be gathered in the streets, but they wouldn’t stay there for long. Something was happening, and it was happening now , whether she wanted it to or not.

If we don’t get control of it, someone else will. Right now the fall of the prison had produced a triumphant atmosphere, but the anger was still there. And God only knows what’s happening at Ohnlei. If Father is dead, then Orlanko will be trying to take control. There were too many variables, too many possibilities. Maybe I can leave Cora and Maurisk in charge here, and-

There was a knock at the door. Cora started and spun.

“It’s me,” said Sothe.

“Come in,” Raesinia said.

Cora looked surprised but said nothing as Sothe slipped in and shut the door behind her. Raesinia gestured wearily from one to the other.

“Sothe, you know Cora. Cora, this is Sothe. She’s an. . agent of mine. She’s been working with us since the beginning. I trust her with my life.” Or the nearest equivalent. “We couldn’t have taken the prison without her.”

Cora frowned, then bowed in Sothe’s direction. “Then I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Sothe said, with a glance at Raesinia that told her they’d have words later. “It’s part of my job, after all.”

“What is your job?” Cora said, curious.

“Chambermaid,” Raesinia said. Sothe suppressed a smile. Cora looked between them and shook her head.

“They’re planning a grand council downstairs,” Sothe said. “To arrange for something along the lines set out in your declaration.”

“Who’s invited?” Raesinia said.

“Everyone from the old council, plus you, ‘Mad Jane’ and some of her people, Captain d’Ivoire, and some representatives of the merchants and traders. All sorts have been turning up, and everyone’s demanding a place at the table.” Sothe paused. “They’re going to want Danton to make a speech.”

“That can be arranged,” Raesinia said. “I’ll need some time to work out what we want him to say.”

“Before that,” Sothe said, “there’s something else we need to talk about.”

“Oh?”

“All of us.” Sothe’s expression was grim. “The cabal. Alone.”

The sun was coming up, but the morning light had revealed the hovering clouds to be heavy black thunderheads. They swept across the city like a conquering army, plunging it into shadow. It was still hot and dry, but the wind that whipped across the Vendre’s parapet was thick with the scent of rain. Distant, warning grumbles echoed across the river like the coughing of far-off cannon.

Raesinia sat on the stone parapet, her back to a crenellation, one leg dangling over the long drop to the rocks and the river below. Cora stood beside her, when she managed to stand still. Mostly she paced, arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself tighter when the wind gusted. Sothe, expressionless and impassive, waited between them.

One by one, the other conspirators made their appearance. Maurisk’s eyes were dark with fatigue, but his expression was triumphant. Faro had found time to change clothes, and was now back in his fashionable courtier’s outfit, complete with dress rapier. Unlike Maurisk, he seemed to be full of nervous energy, and glanced from Sothe to Raesinia and back again. Last to arrive was Sarton, who seemed none the worse for wear from his captivity.

“Raes, what’s going on?” Maurisk said, breaking the silence. “I’ve got work to do. They’re holding the council meeting this evening.”