7 #2
“Vixius meant for the prefecture to find me that night. As soon as he realized I’d escaped, the silver lining was crawling with his men. I didn’t dare silverwalk for two years. Hid myself away in respectable society.”
“You?” said Myria, unable to deny herself a snort.
Leo shrugged. “Last place he’d look. Besides, I’d pretended to be an investment agent enough times. Turned out, after all that fakery, I knew how to do the job.”
“Surprised you didn’t turn tail for Iseus.”
“I was tempted, believe me,” he muttered, “but they say the arcanic fabric down there’s too stable to silverwalk. They haven’t spent the last thousand years tearing holes in it. Besides, Carintheum’s home.”
“It’s a rat run.”
“Yes,” said Leo, half affronted, “but it’s our rat run.”
Myria hid a smile. She knew the feeling. Then, her friend captured her with an imploring look.
“But . . . Myria, you have to believe me,” he said. “I’ve spent the last three years thinking everyone I cared about was dead. Every time I was alone, every time my mind wandered . . . it wandered to you. Whether I could’ve saved you, if I’d just tried.”
Myria watched him for a moment longer. Then, satisfied, she unclipped the confining charm. The amber leash vanished.
“You couldn’t have,” she said. “The prefecture were there in full force. You’d’ve been pinched along with the rest of us.”
“You believe me?” asked Leo, coming tentatively to his feet.
“Course I believe you.”
“Then why . . .” He made a vexed gesture to the dagger and bracelet.
“Had to be sure,” she said, tossing him the blade. “Besides, you’d explain it faster with the proper motivation.”
“You come straight from the infernal hordes, Myria. I hope you know that.”
“Fifteen years, and you still say it as if you only just found out.”
A sad smile touched her at the echo of those words from three years past. One corner of Leo’s mouth quirked up.
At that familiar sight, at last, she let the fire ignite—the first flames of relief, delight and hope.
Three years was too long to be alone. The light rushed out across her spirit, and she snatched her old friend in a second embrace.
“Missed you too, old girl,” he said, laughing softly into her hair. “But if you’re alive, does that mean the others . . . ?”
“Hadria’s dead, beyond doubt,” Myria said, waking a faint throb in the old wound. “Lysander’s in the eternity cells in Haideum. As for Cassia, I’ve reason to believe she’s still alive.”
“Mmm. Would it be too much trouble to explain how?” asked Leo, drawing back. “The death notice in the Empire’s Herald was fairly unambiguous.”
“And all the better, or a certain scheme of mine might’ve died at birth,” said Myria. “Sit ye down, old comrade. You might enjoy this.”
“Vixius? He’s a praetor now?” Leo exclaimed, aiming a kick at a fallen cushion. “And he had the gall to use the Elysius job to start off his campaign against Valorus?”
“Mmm. And it sounds like he’s been letting the grayside run wild ever since,” said Myria. “Probably hoping to damage Valorus’s standing. From all I’ve heard, the Magister-General’s hat is his to lose.”
“Marvelous. Well, the other praetors probably deserve him.”
“His alter ego isn’t common knowledge across the grayside?”
“Not that I’ve heard. Of course, it’s only these last few months I’ve even dared to touch the silver lining,” he said. “Now that you mention it, though . . . I only risked it because I’d heard he hadn’t been seen down there for a while.”
“The demands of office, no doubt,” said Myria.
“Magister-General, you say. If he makes it . . .”
“He’ll be in control of the prefecture, yes.”
“Heady combination. The supply and the demand. Gods below. If he wins, he could give the grayside the run of the city.”
“Quite,” she murmured. “Tell the prefects where to turn a blind eye. Slip his men into positions of power. Pinch classified plans to the Praetorium vaults . . . I’ll give him credit. He doesn’t do things by half measures.”
“His deputies must know about it, though,” Leo added, frowning.
“Mmm. He’d need them to hold the fort while he’s away. I expect he promised them gold and glory once he takes office.”
“Reckon he’ll keep his word?”
They shared a look, then snorted with laughter in unison.
“But . . . the Elysius Vault,” Leo went on, his vexed expression returning.
“If he’d only wanted to stoke up fears in good society, he could’ve chosen anything.
He must’ve genuinely wanted that box. Was it something to help him bring off the scheme?
It’d be no small endeavor, stealing Evander’s entire life .
. . I mean to say, he was a real chap, wasn’t he? ”
“Yes,” said Myria, “and Vixius wanted that device, alright.” She drew breath through her teeth. “It steals arcanic power. He took Cass’s mercuria, Leo. Left her with no face.”
“Then used her powers to nick Evander’s identity. Damn. If he could pilfer any arcana he took a fancy to . . .”
“Quite. And that’s not the worst of it. You said he closed the common gateways to the silver lining.”
“You suppose that box gave him control over them?”
“It might explain why he didn’t take your silverwalking power. He didn’t need it.”
Leo nodded slowly, his expression darkening. He turned his quill between his fingers, then came to his feet and began pacing the room.
“It could be,” he said. “In therical terms . . . imagine there’s a wall at the edge of the arcanic fabric, hemming it all in.
Except Carintheum’s been knocking holes in the wall for the past thousand years, and the fabric’s started leaking out to the other side.
That’s the silver lining. Us silverwalkers, we can pull more power through the gaps. Dig the lining deeper.”
“So if that device can transfer arcanic power—”
“Then perhaps it can push more through the gaps, or pull it back.”
“Or freeze it,” said Myria. “Stop the flow.”
“Lock the gateways,” Leo agreed.
“Stands to reason,” she murmured, then brightened. “Still, that’s a problem for another day. I’d better find my guard dog before the scarlet traders eat him alive, and you . . . I’ve got a job for you. Find Cassia.”
“How? There’s a square million people in Carintheum. Besides, you don’t even know if she’s out of jail.”
“I’ll check the prisons. If she’s already free, use your wits. How many places could a woman with no face find work?”
“True,” he admitted, drawing his quill. “Still, could take a while.”
“Not to worry,” she said. “I’ll need to toe the line until the hound’s called off, in any case.”
“Why bother? I could always make you . . . disappear,” Leo said with a flourish of his feather.
“Can’t, old boy. If I vanished, he’d report it,” said Myria. “They’d investigate, and I don’t want anyone nosing down that alley. Which means I’ll need you to do something else for me.”
“Demanding blighter.”
“Watch Evander.”
That silenced him, if only for a second. He sat back and eyed her up.
“Why?” he asked slowly, with the look of a man who knew very well why.
“I studied him from Halcyon, but there’s only so much gossip and news scrolls can tell a girl,” she said. “I want to know where he goes and what he does.”
“Still begs the question of why.”
Myria smiled. The answer had been stirring in her mind in silence for so long that it felt strange to speak it aloud. Something shimmered through her like alcohol at the thought.
“Oh, Leo,” she murmured. “Vixius crossed the wrong crew. He took your powers. Our liberty. Hadria’s life. Did you imagine for a moment that I’d let that stand?”
Leo drew a slow breath, his dark eyes rising to meet hers. She saw a dozen questions race across his countenance. In the end, though, only one survived.
“How?”
“We’re going to empty his vault,” she said. “We’re going to take back all your powers. Then, we’re going to destroy him.”
Myria stepped out into the arcanic night. The air felt clear as glass after the perfumed heat of the inner rooms. She found Aurelias pacing like a trapped senyx in the back alley.
“Prefect!” she called. “I hope you didn’t encounter any untoward attention.”
“Nothing of the violent kind,” he said, greeting her with a polished smile. “You found him?”
“Yes, thank mercy,” said Myria. “He’d come well supplied with lyrin. Still, he was prepared to donate some to a more virtuous cause. He has an association with the Althion Hotel, so I’ll find lodgings there at a favorable rate.”
“The Althion? That’s one of the good ones, isn’t it?”
“I’m sure there’ll be something fit for the common girl. And speaking of the common girl, perhaps we ought to take our leave. I haven’t any great liking for this street.”
“Nor I,” Aurelias agreed. She took his arm, and they set off down the road.