The Queen of Days, page 6
“I don’t,” Mira replied at long last, her voice so, so small. “Not much anyway. But I remember running. And I remember you.”
The blood of Mira’s parents was still hot on the ground when a handful of servants had grabbed the children in an attempt to smuggle them to safety. Bal, Kai, and Zeelaya had gotten out easily, but Mira’s rescuer fell, and in falling called down the wrath of the watching crowd. If Tassiel had not been there, Mira would be dead.
But she had been there, watching the spectacle unfold with complete uncomprehending disbelief. Humanity often confused her, but the madness that would cause grown men to attack a child? It was a level of barbarity that only the meanest creatures of the Great Below could match.
So she acted. She grabbed the child and sacrificed precious drops of magic to turn them both invisible, then delivered her to the safety of her remaining family.
“Why did you do it?” Mira asked. “Save me?”
The answer was longer and more complicated than Tassiel could hope to articulate. Reasons of abandonment and loss, yes, but also a yearning.
To belong.
“You needed help,” Tassiel replied instead. “And so I came.”
“You wore a mask then too. Why?”
Tassiel considered the question for a long moment. Decided on the truth. “The mask is ensorcelled to ensure that I remain unnoticed to people like me.”
“And?” Mira pressed, sensing words unspoken.
“And my face is . . . different.”
A pregnant pause stretched down the length of the hall.
“You’re not human, are you?”
“No.”
“Does Bal know?”
Tassiel felt one of her brows rise. “Would he believe it, if I told him?”
Mira shook her head. “No.” Her shoulders seemed to sag under the weight of the conversation. She glared at the temple below, at the men and women preparing for the day. At Shasheba ordering them about from a chaise that her presence made a throne.
“And you’re here now, too,” Mira began, still glaring at Shasheba. “How? Why?”
Tassiel opened her hands in a half-hearted shrug. “I often find my clients in the cells below the Code Halls. The men and women there are usually desperate enough to work with me. To make the sacrifice I require.”
Tassiel had spoken the truth, but Mira was shaking her head. “Doesn’t explain why you picked us.”
She was surprisingly astute for a girl of twelve. “I was told your brother would be there and that my presence was requested.”
“By whom?”
“I do not know—your patron, I presume,” she replied honestly. The request had come to her on a warm breeze, slipping through the wards about her residence in the talons of a gray falcon. It felt ancient. Like magic.
Like home.
“Why are Edik and Zeelaya so angry?” Tassiel asked before the girl could press her further. Before Mira could ask if it was the mere oddity of the request that had drawn Tassiel in or if it was the Vadalen children themselves who had piqued her interest.
It was not a question she was prepared to answer. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
“Bal’s never taken a job without talking to us first,” Mira said slowly, as if afraid of exposing her brother. “We always vote on them as a family.”
“Democracy,” she drawled. “How novel. Why did he deviate from the norm?”
“The payoff,” Mira replied, as if it should be obvious. “That much money—we wouldn’t have to steal anymore. We could leave Ashaar. Go somewhere new. Somewhere no one has ever heard of us.”
Tassiel just nodded, knowing too well how it felt to be crushed by the weight of a family legacy. “How is it that your family came to thieving? Did none of your relatives or friends step in to shelter you after your parents’ fall?”
“No,” Mira said, her voice too hard.
“Why?”
“Cowardice,” Bal replied.
Tassiel turned to the now open door. Marked Edik and Zeelaya whispering to each other on the far side of the room. Marked Kai rubbing exhaustion from his eyes.
“Cowardice?”
“Yeah,” Bal said, dragging Mira to his side. “They fed us to the wolves so they wouldn’t be eaten too.”
“I see,” Tassiel said, something in her bridling against the fear in Bal’s eyes—the suspicion at seeing her alone with Mira.
“You still wanna hear the plan?”
She nodded, following Bal back into the room. A room that ran hot with the tang of anger and the mounting pressure of time running short.
He cracked his neck, shuffling through the scraps of paper on the table, upsetting one of Zeelaya’s mechanicals as he went. The young woman hissed at his carelessness, swooping away from her husband to save her contraption from harm.
Ignoring her, Bal flattened a map of Cothis in front of Tassiel, tacking the curled edges down with a few used cups and plates. “The new temple is here,” he said, gesturing to the center of the island where the outdated map showed the outline of the former temple. “The new one is much larger than any of the previous temples, so nearly all of this park space is gone. Its base almost butts up to the road.”
Tassiel nodded. None of this information was new to her, but she let him continue. She would learn as much about this crew of thieves by what they said, as what they omitted.
“The fact that it’s so close to the road actually works in our favor,” Bal continued when she didn’t speak. “The old building was only used for worship and as a meeting space for the governor and his aides. The new building will house the governor’s family, as well as the families of his principal advisers.”
“Why is this good news?” Tassiel asked. “Will the presence of all these extra people in the temple not make things more difficult?”
“The place will be packed regardless,” Bal replied. “But with so many toffs now living in the temple, many of the manors surrounding it will be empty. Only a skeleton crew of guards and servants will be there to protect and maintain the properties. This house here,” he said, gesturing to the largest house on the eastern side of the temple, “will be our exit point.”
Tassiel stared doubtfully at his finger. “This is part of your vengeance, then? Escaping through the governor’s manse? The home that used to be yours.”
“His former home,” he replied. “Paasch moved into his new apartment within the temple last week. His mansion will be nearly vacant the night of the ceremony.”
Tassiel simply waited, unconvinced.
“Look, the choice in exit point isn’t just a way to stick it to Paasch. Mira, Zee, Kai, and I all grew up in that house. We know it inside and out. Which means if we get separated, or have to scatter, we’ll have a better shot at getting everyone out in one piece.”
It made sense in a way, she thought, even if his need for revenge was clear as glass. “Very well. Please continue.”
Bal pulled out an undoubtedly stolen set of temple schematics and spent the next hour and a half taking Tassiel through the plan. She peppered him with questions from start to finish, probing the plan for every weakness she could think of, testing every decision. Every step had to be sound, valid if they were to make it out both whole and alive.
Bal looked ragged by the end of it, but with Zeelaya’s help, they explained away all of Tassiel’s concerns. Amazingly.
“All right,” Tassiel said. “You’ve gotten to the top of the temple, created your diversion, and stolen the idol.” She looked between Zeelaya and Bal. “Now how do you get it out?”
Kai flashed a wolfish grin. “That, sweetheart, is where you come in.”
“Oh?”
Bal smiled as she turned to him. “Kai and Edik will smuggle you onto the temple’s grounds the morning of the ceremony. While the rest of us are inside the temple, you will be scaling the side.”
Kai sneered when Tassiel did not reply. “What? It’s not too much of a challenge for you, is it, demon queen?”
She flicked Kai’s words away with an impatient gesture. “No. It can be done, but to what purpose? You said your exit point was in your childhood home, across the street from the temple. I assumed there were tunnels connecting the two.”
“No.” Bal braced his hands on the table. “Realistically, we’ll have less than a minute from the time we grab the idol until someone notices it’s gone. Speed is going to be more important than stealth when it comes to our getaway.
“We’ll need you stationed here,” he continued, pointing toward a set of windows on the eastern side of the consecration room. He nodded to Zeelaya and she bent, rummaging beneath the table for a battered-looking brown case that she set down carefully. “Once you get to the top, you’ll shoot a zip line into the governor’s manor.”
“How?”
“With this.” Zeelaya spun the dial on the lock and the case opened with a snap. She smiled lovingly down at the crossbow-size mechanism. “It’s a grappling gun. Of my own design,” she added with a smug shrug, sliding the case across the table.
Tassiel picked up the gun, hefting it in both hands as she tested its weight. It was a thing of beauty, she thought, inspecting the solid metal arrow loaded in the chamber. It had a length of wire, sinuous as a sleeping snake, coiled in the case.
“Once you get to the top, you’ll shoot this into the wall of the governor’s mansion,” Zeelaya continued. “This catch here will keep the wire from getting away from you. There is a balcony on the top floor, aim for that. It’s only two stories lower than the temple, so the fall won’t be too hard.”
“I shall remind you of that when you break your shins on impact,” Tassiel replied with a slight laugh.
“You’ll need to shoot a second arrow into the temple and attach the wire to it,” Bal said, ignoring her. “Take as long as you need to scale the building, but you must be in position before we make the grab. As soon as we have it, we’ll slide down the line and get away.”
“All of you?” she asked, her face turning fractionally toward Mira.
“No. Mira, Zee, and I are going in with covers. We’ll be going out the same way we entered so we don’t come under suspicion. Well. Too much suspicion,” he allowed with a cutting smile. “Kai and Edik will be going with you.”
“And Shasheba?”
“Shasheba’s the only one who got an actual invite. She’ll be fine. And if things go sideways, she’s going to stay put and pretend she’s nothing more than another guest.”
Tassiel nodded, privately doubting Bal’s ability to leave Shasheba behind should everything fall apart. Especially if Mira was staying behind as well. Which she would have to do, since Mira would be hiding in plain sight, dressed as a novitiate—an acolyte-in-training—whose job was to shadow Shasheba and fetch anything that might be needed. And while she would certainly have her share of duties there, her main reason for going in with Shasheba was to open the windows so Tassiel, Edik, and Kai could make a clear escape.
After the heist, Bal would certainly be detained for questioning—a fact he clearly knew. And relished. Zeelaya too, given their history with Governor Paasch. But Mira would leave the temple with Shasheba and the rest of the acolytes. Neither Mira nor Shasheba had the most dangerous job—that would be left to Tassiel herself, of course—but they would both be standing just to the right of the mayhem.
Tassiel was silent for a moment, her face angled toward the map, judging the distance between the temple and the governor’s manor. “This seems like an unnecessarily dangerous escape considering you own an airship. Why not simply fly it to the temple’s peak and escape that way?”
Bal opened his mouth, but his reply seemed to get stuck in the back of his throat. She felt his mind racing backward, tripping through each word he had spoken to her. “How do you know I have an airship?” he asked, arms crossing.
She resisted the urge to sigh. How could she not know? “You have the smell of Zefira all over you.”
“How can anyone smell like the goddess of wind?” Mira asked.
“How can anyone know what the wind goddess smells like? No—” Bal closed his eyes for a moment, as if a headache had begun to twinge beneath his skull. “Forget I asked.”
“Don’t let anything she says surprise you,” Kai said, drawing away from Tassiel with obvious distrust. “She’s no better than the Bodysnatcher, is she? Rutting demon can probably read our minds just like him.”
Enough. Tassiel felt like she was arguing with her brother Calien. He’d never respected her either.
“Why do you keep calling me this?”
“What—why do I call you a demon?” Kai’s upper lip curled in a sneer. “Why do you care? Does it hurt your feelings?”
“No. But if it will make you feel better, I shall endeavor to resent you for it.”
Mira giggled, an easing of tension that the others clearly felt, even if it made Kai’s mouth snap shut. His face went red. “Laugh all you want,” Kai said, glaring around the table, “but she never actually said she wasn’t one.”
“Kai. Not now,” Bal said, gaze heavy as he turned to Tassiel. “We aren’t using the airship for the same reason I can’t be seen escaping the temple. It’s too easy to identify,” Bal continued quickly, like he was trying to draw attention away from Kai’s embarrassment. “Paasch would know I was behind the heist.”
“Is not his knowing the whole point?”
“The point of the heist is the payday,” he insisted, too firmly. Shrugged. “I want Paasch to know it was me, I just don’t want him to be able to prove it.”
Tassiel did not need to express her doubt with words. She simply folded her arms, but Bal turned away rather than reply. Kai had begun gnawing on his nails—surely a bad sign. Going through their plans clearly made him nervous, and Tassiel knew her presence already had him on edge.
“Kai, why don’t you and Edik go to your contact at the temple and pick up your uniforms for tomorrow.”
He nodded, pushing away from the table and going to his cot to dig out a fresh vest from the pile of clothes on the floor—“fresh” in the loosest possible sense of the word. Tassiel could smell his stale sweat on it from across the room. Edik, already dressed and ready, brushed a kiss on Zeelaya’s temple and holstered the pistol he had so foolishly aimed at Tassiel.
“C’mon, Kai,” Edik said. “We’ll pick up some food and coffee for you on the way.”
“See, this is why you’re my favorite,” Kai said with a slip of a smile. “We’ll be back in an hour or two.” He shoved his own pistols into their holsters and headed to the door.
“Be careful out there,” Bal called. “We don’t want to draw any attention.” Tassiel had the sense that Edik didn’t need the reminder to behave, but Kai was, well . . . Kai was another matter.
“Don’t worry,” Kai said, shrugging off Bal’s words. “I’ll spend the whole time in quiet contemplation.”
“Will you?” Tassiel asked in a too-innocent voice. “Then while you are gone, I invite you to consider the wisdom in insulting the person securing your escape route.”
A huff of quiet laughter sighed from her lips as he blanched. Flipping a rude gesture, Kai turned on his heel and stomped out the door.
“You could be nicer to Kai,” Bal said, running a hand over his whiskers.
“Yes,” she allowed, accepting the criticism with resignation. “But I do not think he would appreciate the effort.” Both Mira and Zeelaya snorted at her unintended joke.
“You could be nicer to Shasheba, too.”
“Shasheba is irrelevant.”
Mira had to shove a hand in her mouth to stifle her glee. Bal glared at his sister. “Shasheba is sheltering us. She’s smuggling Mira into the ceremony—for us. She isn’t irrelevant.”
Tassiel straightened from the schematics, pinned Bal with a long look. Willing him to reconsider. “Perhaps she should be.”
He shifted, though from her gaze or from her warning, she wasn’t sure.
“Why?”
She almost didn’t reply. Her brothers had never heeded her advice about women, but Bal? Perhaps. “Be careful, Bal. Shasheba wears a cloak of bitterness, the kind that breaks into betrayal.”
Bal’s face was heavy with guilt, eyes darting to Zeelaya. She looked down almost like she was ashamed. Tassiel could not help but wonder why. It was obvious that Bal and Shasheba had been lovers, but for Zeelaya to feel guilty? Perhaps they had been friends, before the Vadalens fled the city.
And left Shasheba behind.
An unwanted feeling of pity for the priestess bloomed within Tassiel. She crushed it before it could take root.
“If Shasheba is bitter about life, it’s because of me. So, it’s up to me to make it right.” He swallowed hard. “Don’t worry about Shasheba, just try to be nice. That goes for you too, Mira.” He turned to Mira who was leaning on the table looking unabashedly ecstatic about this whole conversation. “Speaking of which: What are you still doing here? You should be downstairs.”
“I’m staying here.”
“No. You’re supposed to be with Shasheba. You need to learn your role for tomorrow.”
“Blegh,” Mira said, pulling a face. “I’m playing her servant. She bosses me around and I obey. How much practice do I really need?”
Bal rubbed his temples, and Tassiel experienced an unexpected jolt of sympathy. Her upbringing may have been brutal, but she’d never had to negotiate with a child. The youth in her world feared their elders far too much to contradict them.
Perhaps brutality was underrated.
“There’s more to it than that, Mira,” Bal said, impatience brimming in his every word. “There are prayers you need to learn.”
“I know the prayers, I’m not an idiot. Shasheba has been making me repeat them. All. Week. Long.” Mira heaved a put-upon sigh. “Tass is right. Shasheba sucks. I’m staying here.”
“Mira, please.” Zeelaya’s voice cut through the fight brewing between the siblings. Mira shot her cousin a mutinous look, but the older woman refused to bend. “Go.”
Mira huffed. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she stormed out of the room in a cloud of anger. “She will be an interesting teenager,” Tassiel observed.
