Queen of faces, p.23
Queen of Faces, page 23
‘What is she looking for in the ocean? What’s under the ice?’
‘A weapon,’ he said. ‘A legend. A finale.’
‘A finale for what?’
Henry Lamber smirked, and glanced out of the window towards Paragon.
After twenty more minutes of probing, that was all he seemed to know. Halfway through dessert, I reached into my pocket and popped open the box of Kraken’s Bone. I removed four pills with a shaking hand, invisible, and dribbled them into his wine glass. It was shocking how clumsy I still was with a finger missing.
Khaiovhe can’t know we’re on to her, I reminded myself. We had to cover our tracks. And this man had tortured Korin for months.
I swallowed, wiping my sweaty palms on my shirt. When Henry Lamber started coughing up blood, a few illusions was all it took to pin it on the man next to him.
Next, we went after Thomas Gibbs, a pirate who worked for Commonplace, procuring supplies for Khaiovhe’s sub, in between his bloody raids on merchant ships. At my behest, Korin smuggled me into the man’s cargo hold, and I used illusions to steer his flagship on to a reef. As the boat sank and his men foundered, Wes and Nima climbed up the anchor and carved a path through the crew. With the help of Rainbow Veil, Gibbs’s own first mate knocked out his captain.
Through that winter and into the spring, we hunted down the other four names on Korin’s list, searching for Khaiovhe and her weapon. We infiltrated a farm, a brothel and a horse race on the mainland. We burned down a warehouse and ambushed a man in his own panic room. But still, we came no closer to the witch or the object she was hunting. The Black Wraith was a phantom.
During our jobs, I hid my face under my crimson dust mask and the hood of my raincoat, adding black eyeshadow to conceal the shape of my brow. On the rare occasions when it slipped, I showed my enemies the same face I’d worn during my second branch: the girl with raven hair. On warmer spring nights, Nima lent me a pair of black shorts for jobs. That outfit drew some stares from Wes. He found me amusing, no doubt.
My hidden Lowtown stashes grew, swelling to thirty thousand pounds. And with every consecutive job, I handled more of the planning. Wes was utterly lethal, but the boy lacked flexibility, lateral thinking that was vital when fighting mages. And in planning, he often struggled to grasp details. Nima had more experience than the rest of us put together, but they’d never fought in a team before. When things got loud, they practically forgot we existed. And Korin, though a brilliant engineer, was not much of a fighter. He didn’t even join us for half the missions.
Then, there was me. I couldn’t handle a blade like Wes, or craft like Korin, and I didn’t have Nima’s infinite toolbox of skills. I was the weakest mage in Queen Sulphur, by far, and as my body decayed, my stamina and agility worsened by the day. But when the bullets started flying, everything flowed in my mind like a symphony. And our enemies’ thoughts were like simple music. All I had to do was predict the next chorus.
To my horror, my greatest strategy teacher was not Professor Stoughton, who taught tactics at Paragon. It wasn’t anyone in Queen Sulphur, or even Headmaster Carriwitch. It was Adam. Watching him crush entire squads at once in practice battles on the snowy pavilion, without even needing his flames. It wasn’t just his blinding power and speed. It was his mind, his brutal, efficient gambits, his fine-tuned aggression. He left no weaknesses, never faltered and always kept his opponents reeling. A prodigy like no other, vicious though he might be.
One snowy morning, Left-Nima looked at me during a card game in the clock tower. ‘You’re getting something of a reputation, you know, in the lower reaches of Elmidde.’
‘A reputation?’
‘I go to dive bars. Swing clubs, where they don’t know this face. I chatted with an art forger last night, and he talked. They’ve got a name for you, now. The smugglers, the hit men, the Commonplace thugs. You’re “the Azure Queen”.’
I shrugged. ‘We’re covert mercenaries. If I’m famous, I can’t be that good at my job, can I?’
‘Look at your wallet,’ said Nima. ‘Can’t be that bad, either.’
Thirty thousand was hardly a large fortune, but I saw her point.
As winter turned into spring, I trained. Ori tutored me in her dorm room while she ran Whisper experiments on scorpions, still unable to crack her sister’s illness. Korin taught me to swim through the eerie, waterlogged tunnels under the Flooded District. Wes taught me how to use my knife, how to slash and stab and dodge, even with my four-fingered off hand. He sparred with me, slapping me with his sword until I moved smoothly, even as the aches in my body spread, along with the grey on my skin. And Nima taught me more Physical spells, how to spark fire at my fingertips and move objects with my Pith, while Wes showed me the Beacon, a spell to shine light around my body. With my new repertoire of magic, cleaning Adam’s bathroom became easy.
And when the long days were over and I couldn’t sleep, I sometimes climbed out of the skylight in the bedroom, pulling myself on to the slanted roof of the clock tower. I would lie back, feet planted at the edge, breathing the cool air and gazing over the ruins of the Flooded District. Running my fingers over my burnt pinky stump, feeling the sting. Wondering if it would hurt, when everything went dark.
Or what that pomegranate cider would taste like, if I lived.
Sometimes, Korin got bad dreams and joined me.
Sometimes, Wes joined me instead. We were two insomniacs, drifting together in the night. We’d stay out there until sunrise, silent, watching the light grow behind Mount Elwar. And it would feel like we’d spent a lifetime together.
One spring morning, Carriwitch met us with a heavy expression. His usual half-smile had withered.
‘Thanks to your hard work,’ he said, ‘I have interrogated your captives and have produced a lead.’
All of us perked up at the bar counter. ‘On her?’ I said.
‘On Khaiovhe.’
Khaiovhe. The word crackled in my ears like electricity. Sweat gathered in my palms. I saw Kaplen’s last smile, the dam exploding with black fire.
But now that we were close, it seemed too mad to be true. The Black Wraith was an enigma, a symbol. To witness her in person would be like touching the surface of the sun.
I glanced down from the bar counter. My hands were shaking in my lap.
‘Where?’ I said. ‘When?’
‘In one month,’ said Carriwitch, ‘she’ll be at a secret Commonplace gathering, in the Brenby Fish Market. It was abandoned several years ago, when the global fish supply started dropping like a rock.’
‘Brenby,’ said Korin. ‘That’s north of the capital, right? Up the coast.’
Carriwitch nodded. ‘You will watch from a safe distance with a radio set I’ll provide. If you spot the Black Wraith, send me a signal. Then you’ll provide backup if necessary.’
‘Backup?’ I said. ‘To who?’
‘A force of mages from the Eldritch Guard. When you signal them, they’ll move in and assassinate the Black Wraith. If needed, you will assist. Presuming you succeed, I’ll ensure you all get pardons if the Guard arrests you afterwards. I imagine they’ll be grateful for your help in the witch’s demise. That ought to lubricate the gears a bit.’
‘Why aren’t you joining us?’ I said, my pitch rising ever so slightly.
‘Denis Sutcliffe, my replacement, has stated I’m too old to take part in such an important mission. I’ve protested, but he insists. Besides, my age is merely a pretence. He is afraid of my reputation,’ said Carriwitch. ‘He thinks that if I join him, the glory shall be mine alone. He wants to be the hero.’ A rare scowl settled across the headmaster’s face.
‘All the more reason I need to send people I trust.’ He scribbled a number on a piece of paper. ‘This is the reward.’
The piece of paper slid itself across the counter.
Wes’s eyes widened, stars gleaming faintly in his irises. My heart raced. This payout was bigger than the last four jobs combined. With this much money, even split four ways with the rest of Queen Sulphur, I would have more than enough to buy a new chassis. One that wasn’t an Edgar.
But there was that expression on Carriwitch’s face. And the target. We could refuse the mission if we really wanted to. With this many red flags, it was going to be more dangerous than anything we’d done before.
But that was why he was offering us a small fortune.
‘We’ll do it,’ I said.
That afternoon, we got our winter report cards back from Paragon. Adam had got perfect grades, even with his quadruple track at Paragon and rugby matches. He was a Physical Specialist, so it made sense he would ace physics and chemistry, but he’d also got flawless scores on psychology, tactics, rhetoric and even naval strategy, along with all his magic courses.
In his cluttered dorm, Adam scanned my transcripts, much improved after hours with Ori. He uttered a single word. ‘Passable.’
Coming from that boy, he might as well have kissed me. I felt an unexpected rush of pride.
‘Th-thank you, sir.’ I covered the scar where my pinky finger had been.
Adam noticed. ‘I won’t apologise for how I treated you. You listened, you bled and you’re stronger for it.’ His gaze bored into me. ‘Spreading kindness is like pissing in the ocean. It won’t ever come back. Commonplace wants us dead. The Humdrums want us dead. The eastern dogs in Shenten are slobbering at the mouth, waiting for a chance to sink their teeth into us.’
I flinched at eastern dogs.
‘If we want to protect this country, we cannot be weak.’
I nodded, avoiding eye contact.
‘I was wrong, David.’ Adam buttoned his shirt. ‘Perhaps you do belong here.’
My breath caught in my throat. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Consider this an invitation to the Summer Masquerade Ball,’ he said. ‘At the Sphinx Club.’
My pulse quickened, and my face grew hot. If Humdrums gossiped about Paragon, mages gossiped about the Sphinx Club. In a school that already prized itself as the most elite, the most secret, its clubs let barely a handful of people in. And the Sphinx Club made the others look inclusive. If I attended this party, I could talk to heroes and billionaires and nobles. With the right conversation, I could fast-track myself into Paragon’s class next year.
Adam was offering me the chance of a lifetime. And both of us knew it.
‘In addition, if you keep up your good grades next quarter, I’ll get Paragon to loan you a temporary body.’
My chest felt warm, and I smiled. Hard work wasn’t always a waste, even with Adam Weaver. ‘Thank you, sir. Thank you.’ I kept nodding at him, and he waved me off.
When I was at the door, he called out to me. ‘David.’
My eyes flitted back to him.
‘You’re running on top of a cloud, five thousand feet over a chasm.’
I nodded at him.
‘Don’t trip.’
* * *
The next afternoon, I found myself studying with Ori at a Midtown café. A trio of open books hovered over her face, the letters glowing purple. Her face glitter shone in the warm light of the fireplace. Outside the café, rain poured on to the street, a cool spring drizzle halfway through the season. ‘Tea’s on me. My mother doubled my allowance.’
‘Doubled? Why?’ Admiral Rowyna Ebbridge was known for many things, but generosity was not one of them.
‘She’s impressed with my grades,’ said Ori. ‘And my model behaviour. She said I was a hundred times better than her last daughter.’
‘There’s a terrible joy, when a monster acts nice to you. All the cruelty they sow, but you’re special, somehow.’
‘It’s a reward for being perfect. She doesn’t actually care about me.’ Ori thought for a moment. ‘I don’t think my friends care, either.’
Another crack in the shell. After all these months knowing her, it was still surprising to see anything less than pure confidence glowing from her skin.
‘Come on, Ori,’ I said. ‘You don’t believe that.’
‘No, it’s true,’ she said. ‘If I got average grades, they’d treat me like dirt. I’m pretty, and they think I’ll be useful after they graduate, so they tolerate my oddities. But when I’m gone, when they think I’m not listening, they whisper.’ She smiled. ‘Every day, people tell me I’m a genius. They tell me I’m beautiful. But of everyone here, the only one who actually likes me is you, David.’
‘Of course I like you.’ My neck grew hot. ‘Not like you, of course. I don’t fancy you. N-not that you’re ugly or anything,’ I stuttered. ‘You’re gorgeous and tall and stylish and – the point is, you’re likeable.’
Ori filled a mug from a Thermos, oblivious to my tongue-tied rambling. Pomegranate cider, siphoned from the banquet hall. ‘You’re the sweetest person I know, David. When you become a student, you should stay far away from the combat courses.’ She shook her head. ‘I just can’t picture you killing people.’
I flashed her a nervous smile.
Ori noticed me staring at her drink. ‘You want some?’ She pulled off her sweater in the heat of the fire, revealing a sheer white blouse underneath. ‘I know you can’t taste, but we could swap bodies for the afternoon.’
The heat in my neck rose to my cheeks, and I looked away from her. Swapping bodies was different from transferring to an empty chassis. You could feel the other’s essence, as your souls flowed through each other. Fragments of their emotions: their identity, their love, their fear. And afterwards, you would breathe in the other’s body, laid bare from head to toe. Swapping was more intimate than kissing. More intimate than – other things.
If we swapped bodies, Ori might learn of my mercenary work. That I’d been living a double life as David and Anabelle. She might assume I was plotting to steal her body, and stop the transfer halfway through. She might not want to be my friend any more.
‘It’s j-just—’ I stuttered. ‘I want my first taste to be in my body. I want it to be special.’
Ori nodded. Her make-up made her eyes look even bigger. ‘Of course. I understand.’
‘Can I ask?’ I said. ‘Do you prefer this body or your old one? Male or female?’
Ori smiled. ‘Eirian Aethelyn was a ruler of the Star Prophets, thousands of years ago, and changed gender seventeen times over a century. Seventeen bodies. Seventeen faces. The question is: which one was the most real?’
I shrugged.
‘All of them,’ she said. ‘All of them. That’s what my sister told me.’
We sat there for a minute, saying nothing. Rain poured outside. The fire warmed my bare skin, and Ori’s blonde hair brushed my knees.
At the far end of the café, a teenage boy scribbled in a textbook, leaning over a pile of them for the Paragon entrance exam. He glanced at us, at our school uniforms.
I was here, and he was there. I was going to the Sphinx Club party, and he hadn’t even seen the cable car. All because Headmaster Carriwitch liked my knife-work.
‘Do you ever think about the person you swapped with?’ I said. ‘The person who could’ve been here instead of you?’ For me, it was the anonymous Grey Coat whose spot I’d taken. For her, it was the girl whose right hand I’d chopped off. The girl she’d Ousted: the former Nell Ebbridge. ‘Do you think we deserve to be here?’
The glitter on Ori’s face stopped rotating. ‘My sister is in a coma. I’m here to find the cure.’ She swallowed. ‘I need to be here for my sister. And without you, I’d be all alone. So, you need to be here too.’
My legs wobbled, and I stared at my notes. Ori reached for a biscuit, and her hand brushed mine. I practically jumped at her touch.
‘I applied for a research grant two months ago, to cure my sister’s disease,’ said Ori. ‘Threw around my new family name, all the prestige I’ve been building. Thanks to that, I got past the first round of elimination this morning.’
‘That’s incredible!’ Though I was hardly surprised.
‘Still,’ she said. ‘On the day of the Ousting, I felt the girl I was replacing. A forced transference spell is as harsh as it is difficult to perform. Two Pith cannot occupy the same space. It’s less like a joining of minds and more like a fork scraping against a plate. When our minds surged against each other, I caught tiny fragments of Nell Ebbridge. Pieces of her old emotions.’ Ori gazed out of the window. ‘She’d been in pain for many years. Her body was an ill-fitting suit. She was clever, but lacked focus, so her grades were flimsy, and the other nobles whispered about her. Her father was dead, and her mother had nothing left but loathing for her daughter.’
Something twinged in my mind, and I straightened. ‘Tell me more.’
i leaned back on the couch and advanced my pawn on the chessboard. It reached the far side of the chequered squares, and I promoted it to a queen.
Gage sagged over, sighing. ‘You win.’
I smirked. Over the last few months, I’d played dozens of chess games with the grey girl, trouncing her every time. All the strategies she dreamed up in the field, and she still struggled here.
‘Don’t ignore the pawns, grey girl,’ I said. ‘Let them be, and they’ll get to the other side of the board. And then—’ I rapped my freshly promoted queen on the table. ‘Queen in the back row. Lethal.’
Gage hunched over, crossing her legs. Both her feet had turned grey, the decay spreading up her left leg. This close, I couldn’t help but notice her shampoo. Peaches and cream. For someone who couldn’t smell, it was a rather good pick. A pleasant scent for an unpleasant girl.
‘You came closer this time,’ I said. ‘Care to restore your honour?’
Gage shook her head. ‘I took a practice test this morning, and I want to check my score.’
‘Practice test? For what?’
‘The Paragon entrance exam. I’ve been studying for it every week. When my scores get better, I’m going to show them to Adam. If we don’t catch Khaiovhe, he can still give me his recommendation. And that’ll probably secure me a spot in next year’s class.’
