The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 39
“Julas cut a finger free – only your hand was visible in the rubble. We had no time; the search parties were closing in.”
Only a finger? Was that why it was harder for him to remember? The Genus always specified a larger bone for regeneration via the Crucible, but nowhere did it mention a minimum. “Next time take my skull,” he said. “And where is your brother?”
“Below. In the city.”
“Why?”
“To watch. Much has happened.”
“I need to rest. Tell me after.” He took a step and his leg collapsed. Tarvilus caught his weight and together they walked to a bench at the edge of the cavern. Not a large room, it was nonetheless lined with benches for witnesses. Regeneration had once been a holy rite not the befouled by secrecy and common blood.
His neck ached from supporting his head. He lifted a hand. Fluid from the pool still coated his skin – but there was a patch of fur spreading from wrist to knuckle. “What is this?”
Tarvilus swallowed. “I could only take one. A young man. The village is already suspicious after the last time.”
“That’s not enough flesh or blood for the ritual.”
“Forgive me. I had to improvise.”
“Tarvilus.”
“I used animal flesh. I skinned them as best I could.”
Vinezi shuddered. There. He was part animal now. How fitting – perhaps one of them had been a slinking fox or some other sneaking thief? Father would have roared with laughter. “No more.”
Tarvilus waited.
“Send for Julas. I need to know what’s happening. We will form new plans while I recover.” He paused. “Do I remember true – the Sea God has died?”
“Yes. Its bones are even now being harvested by the Anaskari.”
“Fortunate.” He smiled – cheeks reacting slowly. “That ought to make our task easier. Go now, find our little brother.”
Tarvilus stood and strode for the exit. He hesitated, a mere dark figure beyond the pool of light. “Do you think Marinus will find us?”
“Stop asking me that.”
“I know he will come for us.”
“It won’t matter. We will have our own Greatsuits by then.”
“Don’t underestimate him.”
“Never will I, brother.” Vinezi closed his eyes and leant back. “Tarvilus?”
“Yes?”
“You did exceptionally well. Thank you.”
His younger brother left but there was a snap to his footfalls. Vinezi smiled again. This time the muscles in his cheeks were quicker to respond.
There would be no more accidents.
Chapter 2
Kanis paced the deck, only half-aware of the creak of ropes and shouts of men in the rigging, sparing not even a glance for inky clouds massing on the horizon. A chill wind pressed pants and vest against him but barely bothered his bare arms.
He almost sighed. The closer they drew to Anaskar the harder it was to avoid thinking about her. Would he see her there? Maybe not. Years had passed; there was no guarantee Flir would even be in the city anymore. An easier question – would she still be angry? He chuckled. Of course she would. And she’d hardly be happy with him looting her new home either.
But being at least a little angry was natural for Flir.
And her temper kept things interesting, no point denying that.
“Kanis, the storm.” Yaev gave him a look. The first mate’s beard was crusted with brine and the scar on his cheek pink in the cold. “Did you hear me?”
“Huh?”
“Thinking about her again?”
He affected a look of nonchalance. “No.”
Yaev snorted. “You’re no actor, Kan.”
“Fine, give me something else to worry about then.” He turned to the rail and leant against it, staring across the grey of flashing waves to the storm clouds. They were breaking apart already and the storm would be no more than a squall when it hit his small fleet. Only a dozen ships in total, one wing of his ‘V’ formation trailing to port, but twelve would be enough to surprise Anaskar.
“Maybe you should worry about her. You dilar have a knack for causing trouble – and it’s worse when you’re together.”
He smiled. Like the brawl in temple, right before the end. “We did have some good times.”
“She’ll try and stop you.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t have a problem with that?”
“Of course I have a problem with it – namely, how do I convince her to join us?”
Yaev groaned. “You burned that bridge years ago.”
“True.”
He’d lied to her. No hiding that fact now but he’d had no choice back then. There was no way she’d have gone along with the coup otherwise. And King Chaak had been a tyrant – after a fashion. To further cloud the skies, she’d loved him despite all her denials. Flir wasn’t one to be honest with herself when it came to love.
If he could talk to her...maybe there would be a chance? But then, maybe not. Her last words, shouted from the royal docks, hadn’t been encouraging.
He sighed. “What else is afoot, Yaev?”
“I’ve got three things. Take your pick.”
“You choose – anything to break the eternal dullness of this trip.”
Yaev ignored him. “First, that storm.”
“Nothing to its bite,” he said. “Take another look.”
He did so and grunted. “Fine. Second, the new cabin boy was caught trying to steal some of the acor.”
Kanis turned, a frown on his face. “That’s more like it. Little fool, what’s he want with it? Impress me, Yaev, what’s the third problem?”
“It’s that weasel Vinezi left behind.”
“Oh?”
“His fever isn’t breaking. He demands to see you.”
Kanis snorted. “I’m almost disappointed. Atilus will recover, we’re not lucky enough for him to die.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“We don’t need him to sack Anaskar, Yaev.” He raised a hand and began counting off items on his fingers. “We have the acor. We’ve been taught to use it. We have our catapults. We have a dozen ships with us. We’ll have a city on its knees. Don’t worry so much.”
Yaev raised an eyebrow. “Well I still don’t trust Vinezi. And you tried to tell me not to worry when I warned you about the new Conclave.”
Kanis paused to shout up to a man working on the rigging. “Watch that line.” He glanced back to his mate. “They’ll have no idea we’re betraying them until it’s too late. And as for Vinezi, I’ll be keeping an eye on him.”
“But I was right, Kan. And the Conclave will send ships after us eventually. They want what we want.”
“Then they shouldn’t have given me command, don’t you agree? And we’re too far ahead now.” He slapped the rail, ignoring the creak. “Let’s start with young Skink.”
Yaev led him below decks to the darkened hold. They picked their way through barrels of acor and stores marked with the ice-peaks of Renovar; the familiar symbol a dire reminder of home. A single lamp swung overhead. To be safe, it was a good distance from the sealed cases of acor, which in turn kept the hold quite dark.
Skink lay shackled in place, knees pulled up against his chest. His bare feet twitched when Kanis knelt before him.
“I’m s-sorry, dilar. Please, f-forgive me.”
“That depends.”
“On what?” He swallowed.
“Why did you steal the acor? What were you going to do with it?”
Skink looked down, shoulders hunched. “Sell it.”
Kanis glanced at Yaev, who shrugged. It made no difference to his first mate. “Why?”
He opened his eyes, his bottom lip quivering. “I-I...for money, dilar.”
“I know, Skink. But we’re about to steal a lot of gold, jewels and silks from the richest city in the world. Even as cabin boy, your share of whatever we take could see you clear of never working another day for years. Why steal acor?”
“It’s not enough,” he said.
“Greedy whelp,” Yaev said.
“I didn’t take much. I need to make a lot of money back home. My father owes gold.” His eyes were wet. “I don’t even know how much. Mother told me I had to get some acor.”
Kanis raised an eyebrow. “Well, little Skink, I don’t know if I believe you.”
“Dilar, I would –”
“No need,” he interrupted. “I’ll think about your fate and when I return, we’ll talk again.”
He left the boy huddled in his chains and climbed the ladder back to the cabins, moving aft until he reached Atilus’ cabin door.
“You believe the boy?” Yaev asked.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Let him sweat tonight. Tomorrow I’ll Bind him to me.”
“Him?”
“Don’t give me that – he’ll prove useful. Trust me, I always know.”
Yaev muttered beneath his breath.
Kanis grinned. “Have I been wrong before?”
“Yes.”
“Well, not recently, anyway.” He pushed the door open. A man lay on a narrow cot beneath a porthole, beyond which the dark sea toiled. His face was pale, even with the Anaskari tan, and sweat soaked rags on his temple. The room smelt of illness – closed up air, herbs and sweat.
Yaev opened the window, letting a blast of cold sea air in.
Atilus groaned.
“Atilus?”
The man turned his head, breathing hard. “Kanis you half-wit, I need a proper healer.” His accent was slight.
“No port for two weeks, perhaps more.”
“Then try something else,” he snapped.
“Why?”
His eyes blazed, partly in rage, partly from the fever, no doubt. He pointed at his own chest. “Because if I die, the proper use of the acor dies with me.”
Kanis narrowed his eyes. “What have you been holding back?”
“Enough.”
“Tell me.”
“When I am recovered.”
“Your own goals are at risk if our attack fails.”
“At risk, yes. But you will have nothing.”
Kanis swore. He was right, the bastard. But that didn’t mean a healer could be produced from the heavens. “I’ll check the other ships.”
“Good.” Atilus lay back and Kanis left the room, motioning for Yaev to lock the cabin behind them.
“Damn him.”
“Do you believe him?”
Kanis shrugged. “We don’t have a choice, do we?”
Chapter 3
Seto rubbed at a spot of grime on the golden, gilded arm of his throne. Father had often let him sit on it as a child. A tiny step toward a typical preparation for a prince – preparation that not so long ago, he would have looked back on as pointless. No longer. Now he would be sitting on the throne often. And at the very least, he’d ensure it remained clean.
His father’s unsmiling face loomed in memory.
“So, Father, is this not a triumph? Your son – your only worthy son – is King.” King of two realms. One of deceit, and one of...deceit.
He snorted. How often Father came to mind, now when the clamouring of a thousand problems pummelled him. The shattered harbour, the poor tatters of the navy and the great, rotting intrusion of the Sea Beast. Near to two weeks since its breach and so little progress in harvesting its precious bones.
“No greater commodity,” he whispered.
Footsteps approached. “Sire?”
He didn’t turn from the Swordfish banner; an orange splash against grey stone. “Yes?”
“Ah, Luik requests that you join him in the city jail at your earliest convenience.”
A Braonn page, dressed in yellow and grey, and beginning to sweat despite the cold hall, stood with arms at his side. Seto smiled. “Surely Luik didn’t use those actual words?”
“That is his request, Your Majesty.” A slight frown creased his smooth brow.
“Indeed.” He rose and descended from the dais. He still had to meet with the council an hour after daybreak, but there was time if he hurried. What now, Luik?
He waved to the boy. “Off you go, then.”
The lad swallowed as he bowed.
Seto swept through the corridors, the glittering trim on his robes catching dust as he slipped into the secret ways. How long before such freedom was denied? Already, the wet-nurses of the palace, or the council, if he was feeling generous, did their best to either curtail or at the very least, monitor his every move. How was he to run both his Kingdoms with worriers like Nemola underfoot all the time?
Seto slapped a hidden switch and crossed a corridor, its warmth rushing over his cheeks, then it was back into the darkness of the ways. Only twice since having the throne dumped in his lap, had he encountered Mascare in the passages, and each time, their challenge was answered with a royal response.
By the time he crossed beneath the walls and snuck into the cobblestone of the Second Tier, sweat had formed at his temples, even in the cool of morning. He exhaled and rolled up his sleeves. Most unbecoming. Dawn light softened the hard edges of the buildings, their upper storeys casting deep shadows. His footfalls echoed on the cobbles of the empty street and from afar came the crash of waves, a gentlemanly rhythm.
He passed two women drawing water from a well, their discussion hushed, arms straining. He nodded to them as he passed.
Anaskar City Prison was a squat building. Well-fortified, its heavy doors possessed twin steel bands and thick bars on the windows. He rapped on the door. A hatch soon opened and a face bearing a faded bruise blinked at him.
“Your Majesty?”
“I certainly am. Now do open up.”
The door swung wide and Seto swept in. “Where is Luik?”
“The big guy, My Lord?”
He sighed. “Yes, the big guy.”
“Bottom floor. It’s –”
“I know the way, thank you.” He held out his hand.
“My Liege?”
“The key, my dear fellow. The key.”
The Jailor fumbled at his belt, eventually handing the ring over. Seto took it and opened the first door. Immediately beyond, he turned down a set of steps and then a second, and after unlocking another door, a third. He wrinkled his nose at the bottom. Prisons. All the same. Dead sweat, bad hay and human waste.
Seto strode toward a pair of figures at an open cell near the end of a row. He ignored the rather unimaginative calls from the inhabitants, and stopped before two guards. One gaped and the other combined a bow with frantic brushing at his silver and blue uniform. Comical.
“That will be all, gentlemen.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” they chimed as they left.
Luik stood within the open cell, his nasty-looking mace belted over a dark tunic. “Glad you’re here, Seto. Fancy robe you’ve got there.”
“Never mind that. And why am I here exactly, Luik? This lump?” He gestured to the occupant, who lay in a heap on the floor. “You know I’ve had to leave off preparing for a meeting to come here.”
“You seem heartbroken.”
Seto grinned. “Well?”
“You won’t believe me, so I’ll let you look. Just remember, doesn’t make sense. I figured that much out already.”
Seto bent by the body. A familiar face, covered in grime and twisted into a mask of death, stared up at him.
Vinezi.
He sucked in a breath. “Impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
Seto prodded the body with his toe. Soft. And the smell another clue – enough to know the prisoner had been dead for some time. Weeks. There was no way the corpse before him could have set off the explosion at the Iron Pig, let alone attacked the palace.
“See his neck?”
Seto’s brows drew together. Vinezi still wore the blindfold from the interrogation, it had fallen down around his throat. “By all the Ocean Gods.”
“There’s more.”
“I couldn’t be more surprised, Luik.”
He pulled up Vinezi’s pant cuff. “Someone cut his foot off.” Only a festering stub remained.
Seto raised an eyebrow. “I retract my earlier claim. Who cut him?”
Luik sighed. “I’ll be back.”
Seto bent down to address the corpse. “Dead all along it seems. Then who was your friend? A brother?” He rose, meeting Luik and one of the jailors outside.
Luik gestured. “This is Adilo, Your Majesty.”
“Who visited the prisoner, Adilo?”
He swallowed. “It was weeks ago now, Sire, but one of the masks, ah, Mascare-is, well, he came in and said he wanted ‘the big prisoner’ that was just put in.” He spread his hands. “We took the mask, but when we got to the cell, the prisoner wasn’t in good shape.”
“Continue.”
“He was dead, Sire. I’d say whoever dropped him off had worked him over, broken something inside. Anyway, the mask screamed at us, as if it were our fault, then demanded an axe. Took a bit, but we found one.” Adilo scratched at his cheek. “Well, I don’t really understand the point of what happened next. But I won’t never forget it-is. He took the axe and chopped the fellow’s foot right off. Snatched it up and told us to move the body down here-is, and not to disturb it until he returned. We’ve been waiting since. Only sent word because of the smell.”
What madness was afoot? Seto almost smiled at his own joke. Instead, he saved it for the guard. “You did the right thing, Adilo. Know that I am pleased. Return to your post now.”
He bowed and scurried off.
“What’s happening, Seto?” Luik’s voice was a little unsteady.
“This man died some weeks ago.”
“Right after Flir and I dumped him here by the looks of things.”
“And then, he did not escape as we assumed – as we witnessed – but instead, has lain in this corner of the prison ever since?”
“Doesn’t seem real.” Luik shook his head. “And then some mask comes and hacks off a foot? Imposter?”
“Baffling but it would appear so. Arrange to have the body taken to the palace.”
“Seto?”
“I will investigate this further. I’ve no idea what it could mean. But we have to accept that there may be two of Vinezi out there.”
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