City of Keys, page 24
Even as a boy, Mikhail had their father’s supreme confidence. He’d never been afraid of anything. Was it the Nightmark talking now? Or had he always felt this way? Alexei had the sudden unsettling feeling that the person he thought he knew best in the world might be someone else entirely.
“That’s bullshit,” he muttered. “Would you please stop?”
“All I’m saying is that I should have known it, and Falke should definitely have known it. But at the time, I believed I was incorruptible. That I’d convince Malach to spill all his secrets.” A hand stole to his chest. “That this would be another Mark like all the rest. But it didn’t quite work out that way.”
“What was the bargain with Malach?”
“Yes.” He gave a faint smile. “There’s always a quid pro quo, isn’t there?”
Misha fell silent. They reached deeper water. Alexei felt the vibration through the soles of his boots as the steamer’s engines rumbled to life. The great screws began to churn. The ship picked up speed, plowing through the river mouth and turning south.
You did it for me, he thought. Blood for blood. That’s what Falke said. The real reason Misha took the Mark was so the nihilim wouldn’t kill his brother. Yet he didn’t say any of that aloud.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said. “About Kasia Novak.”
He’d already told Misha about the flight from Kvengard after he took the Reborn on the ship. Their arrival in Nantwich. Mikhail had met Kasia once before, in Feizah’s chamber the night he went to the Arx. But he didn’t know everything.
“I’m in love with her,” Alexei said.
Misha blinked in surprise. “Okay. Where is she now?”
“Nantwich.” He swallowed. “There’s more. It’s bad.”
His brother’s smile faded. “How bad?”
“Pretty fucking bad,” Alexei said.
By afternoon, the ramparts of the Arx appeared atop a white cliff. They sailed into Nantwich harbor and dropped anchor, waiting for the arrival of a pilot boat to guide them into the slip. Lezarius waited on the deck with his honor guard.
“It’s still strange not to see the Wards,” he said, gazing up at the ramparts of the Arx.
“They weren’t needed for more than seven hundred years,” Mikhail replied. “We’ll manage.”
He’d donned armor for their arrival, polished to a high gleam. His beard was neatly trimmed, though he’d refused to cut his hair, twisting it into a topknot in Kindu fashion.
“Yes, of course. It will be good to see Luk. The last time was, oh . . . years ago now. He was always a friend to Jalghuth.”
The weather was warmer in the south, though it held an edge of autumn. The leaves were starting to turn, dotting the ancient city with splashes of yellow and red. Alexei felt more at peace than he had in a long while. Mikhail had listened to Alexei’s long, convoluted explanation of Kasia’s birth with little reaction other than to agree that Falke had done the right thing in sparing her life. If anything, he seemed surprised Alexei hadn’t told him before.
“She has nothing to do with it,” he’d said.
“I know.”
“I am happy for you both, brother. I hope you’ll let me meet her again.” His cheeks flushed a little. “Under better circumstances.”
And that was it. The moment he’d been dreading was a total anticlimax.
A pilot boat flying the Crossed Keys flag drew up alongside and briefly conferred with the captain. Within minutes, they were snug against a long pier, the crew tossing mooring ropes to waiting dockhands.
A motorcade of black cars snaked down from the Arx. Alexei disembarked with his bag, Alice trotting at his heels. Lezarius and his honor guard of twenty knights came next. They flanked him as the driver of the first car got out and opened the rear door. A young woman with short, dark curls, wearing a chainmail byrnie and white cloak, stepped lightly from the automobile and approached.
“Reverend Father,” she said.
To Alexei’s astonishment, Clavis bent a knee and kissed Lezarius’s ring.
“I am honored to meet you at last,” she said, rising to her feet. “These are dark days. Thank you for agreeing to come. You have my personal pledge that the Arx is secure.”
Lezarius looked nonplussed. “Reverend Mother,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I came to Nantwich. It is a fair city. Perhaps one day I can host you at Jalghuth.”
She grinned. “I will pack my warmest furs.”
“You already know my Nuncio,” Lezarius said, gesturing for Alexei to join them.
“Nuncio?” she repeated. “Does he wear the Blue Flame now?”
“My loyalty remains to the Curia,” Alexei said. “But I will advise the Reverend Father Lezarius in these talks.”
She looked irritated, but gave a nod. “Luk is already here. Bishop Karolo arrived this morning.”
“So I am the last,” Lezarius said with a frown.
“And you all came early,” Clavis said wryly. “Then we need not delay. Unless you are weary from the journey?”
“Not in the least,” Lezarius said. “The sooner the better.”
“Would you ride to the Arx with me, Reverend Father?”
Mikhail’s eyes narrowed. He bowed his head to Clavis just enough to convey respect. “As Captain of the Reverend Father’s honor guard, I hope you will permit me to join you.”
“I have no objection.” Clavis looked at him closely, then at Alexei. “Are you . . . ?”
“They are brothers,” Lezarius said. “My closest aides.”
“Ah.” It was Clavis’s turn to look disconcerted. “I didn’t know Fra Bryce had a brother, let alone that he was in Jalghuth. He neglected to share that information when last we spoke.”
So she wasn’t aware of Falke’s various plots, Alexei thought, nor of his secret order. It made him trust the young pontifex more.
“Well, now you know,” Lezarius said cheerfully. “Shall we?”
They piled into the cars and bounced through a series of narrow cobblestoned streets, past working warehouses and into a bohemian district of cafes and galleries that occupied large buildings Alexei guessed had once been part of the docks. Graffiti-covered brick facades kept the gritty feel of the waterfront, but the young people sipping coffee and signs advertising loft-style flats signaled a shift toward gentrification.
Of all the cities he’d seen so far, Nantwich was most like Novostopol. A blend of old and new, eternally reinventing itself. He felt a pang of homesickness.
“How long since we’ve had a cheese blini?” he asked Alice, who was drooling all over the leather seats. Her tail thumped at the word blini.
They drove through the thick outer wall and into the bailey. Alice knew where the kennels were and vanished before the car had even stopped, apparently eager to visit her old friends. Half the knights from Jalghuth went off to quarters in the barracks. The other half, including Alexei and Mikhail, followed Clavis and Lezarius up the broad steps to the Pontifex’s Palace. Normally, such a visit would be the occasion for great fanfare, but the mood at the Arx was subdued. Clavis herself escorted them to their rooms in the west wing. She promised to send refreshments and inform the others of their arrival.
Once she was gone, Mikhail insisted on searching Lezarius’s suite before he was permitted to enter. Two knights stood in the hall, guarding the pontifex, while Misha and the others opened chests and closets, drew the curtains and locked the windows, shook out the bedding, and poked into every crevice.
“Is this really necessary?” Lezarius asked.
“Yes,” Misha replied. He picked up a table lamp and examined the base, then set it down.
“Do you think she installed listening devices?” Alexei asked in a low voice.
“You never know.” He turned to one of his women. “Check the toilet tank. And the ventilator.”
She nodded and trotted into the bathroom. Alexei heard her banging around.
“Saints,” Lezarius muttered.
“Clear,” she called out a minute later.
“Clear,” the others echoed.
Misha was kneeling by the bed, running his hands beneath.
“I’m going to my room,” Alexei said.
It was right next door, two adjoining rooms overlooking the plaza. He unpacked his bag, stowing Der Cherubinischer Wandersmann under the mattress. Mikhail was paranoid, but maybe he was right to be. And it wasn’t the sort of book one left lying out for all to see. He washed his face and hands and returned to Lezarius’s chambers.
A light meal had been brought. Alexei reviewed his notes while he ate, listening with half an ear as Misha and Lezarius set up a chess board and launched into a cutthroat game. When a knock came at the door, he was surprised to find two hours had passed.
It was Cardinal Gray, Clavis’s aide.
“Reverend Father,” he said with a solemn bow, pushing his spectacles up on his nose. “And Fra Bryce! How good to see you again.” He turned to Misha. “You must be Captain Bryce?”
“I am. Will I be permitted to wait outside the council chamber?”
“Of course.” A dry smile. “You will not be alone. Bishop Karolo brought a delegation from the Order of Saint Marcius. And the Kvens, naturally.”
“Then let us join them,” Lezarius said. He grimaced at the board. “You have saved me from yet another defeat, Cardinal Gray.”
They followed the Cardinal to a room on the second floor of the palace. To Alexei’s irritation, they were the last to arrive. A deliberate slight? If so, he would extract payback one way or another. He paused in the doorway as the assembled dignitaries rose from their places at a large round table.
Luk looked even more gaunt than the last time Alexei saw him. Bishop Morvana Ziegler stood next to him. Her green eyes were cool, but she gave them both a polite nod. Luk smiled at Lezarius, ignoring Alexei completely.
Maria Karolo and an aide occupied the side nearest the window. Her severe bob swayed as she turned to regard them.
Clavis waited until Lezarius sat down, with Alexei to his left. Gray closed the door and joined her.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “I will open this council with what I know, and then you may add your own intelligence. First, I may as well state the obvious. The Void is broken.” Her gaze fell on Lezarius. “But we are not here to cast blame. The fault is Balaur’s. We are all grateful that your health has been restored. The question facing us now is how to contain him. Bishop Karolo?”
“We still hold Bal Kirith,” Karolo said. “But we sustained massive casualties in the last attempt to take Bal Agnar. Falke deemed it seemed unwise to mount any further offensives.”
“A stalemate,” Luk said.
Clavis nodded. “I sent a thousand knights into the field, but desertion remains a problem.”
“They’re going over to the mages?” Lezarius asked.
“Some. The abyssal ley burns like wildfire around Bal Agnar. It pollutes their minds. If not for that, our superior numbers would have routed the mages long ago.”
“What about the Order of the Black Sun?” Alexei put in. “We cannot forget the threat from within.”
“Those who were found in Kvengard were arrested,” Luk said.
He eyed Morvana, who nodded confirmation. “There were not many left alive,” she said. “We have them under lock and key.”
“I am appalled at what they did,” Luk said, his thin brows drawing down. “But Lezarius says the children are safe in Jalghuth now.”
“They are in my custody,” Lezarius said carefully.
“What about the other cities?” Alexei asked.
“The Order is not here,” Clavis said firmly. “I’ve conducted a thorough investigation. They have no reason to hide in the shadows anymore. I expect those who sympathized with Balaur have left to join him in Bal Agnar.”
“And Novostopol?”
Maria Karolo hesitated. “It’s possible they staged the attack,” she conceded, “but an investigation will have to wait until we’ve repaired the damage.” She looked shaken at the memory. “I was asleep when it happened. I woke to explosions on all sides. I feared we were being shelled. It is only by the grace of the ley that I managed to escape. But the Reverend Father Dmitry . . . .” She paused to wipe an eye, though they both looked perfectly dry to Alexei. “Well, he has not yet been found, but he was in his chamber when the ceiling came down. Rescue workers are still sifting through the rubble.”
Of all of them, only Clavis appeared truly distressed at Falke’s death.
“You have our deepest sympathies,” she said, her voice hoarse.
The sentiments were echoed by the others.
“I have something important to add,” Lezarius said. “The children say it was not abyssal ley that caused the starfall, yet it was guided by someone’s hand. They could not tell me more than that.”
Clavis frowned. Gray leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“You speak of these children,” she said. “Who . . . what are they?”
A reasonable question, Alexei thought. He wished he knew himself. They saw themselves as guardians of the Lance, the great prism that divided a powerful source of ley into three parts, but he knew Lezarius intended to keep that a secret for now.
“They call themselves the Reborn,” Lezarius said. “They have a deep connection to the ley. And they don’t lie. They are not capable of it.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Well, let us take that as a piece of good news,” Clavis said at last. “If it had been Balaur or those who serve him, we can be sure they would have used abyssal ley.” Her finger tapped the table. “I dislike mysteries, especially at a time like this, but perhaps we will solve it in time.”
She drew a breath, looking at each of them in turn. “Now to the heart of the matter. Do we all agree that it is necessary to commit violence in the name of saving everything that we believe in? I am ready to deploy my forces for an overwhelming assault on Bal Agnar.”
Maria Karolo nodded. “We already have two thousand knights in Bal Kirith. Half will march north.”
“And we will march south to meet them,” Lezarius said. “I spent nearly thirty years trying to reach Balaur. To find some spark of reason. It does not exist. Then I was betrayed, inverted, hidden away at the Batavia Institute while he ruled in my place. If you had seen the state of Jalghuth when I returned, you would understand that there is no choice. It would be a greater crime to leave him unchecked.”
All eyes swiveled to Luk.
The Pontifex of Kvengard studied the gold ring on his finger. “The thought of war turns my stomach,” he said slowly. “I will not pretend otherwise. How can we uphold the ideals of nonviolence through violent means?”
Clavis stared at him in silence. Karolo’s lips tightened. Without Kvengard, their chances of victory would be fifty-fifty at best. Luk had to know it.
“It is a dilemma,” Luk continued, “and one that must be taken seriously.”
Alexei looked at Morvana. Her expression was bland, giving nothing away, but her hands were clasped so tightly, the knuckles had gone white. How would she have advised her pontifex? She was a staunch opponent of force, Alexei knew, but she had presumably seen the alchemical laboratory. She knew what their foes were capable of.
He’s showboating, Alexei thought. Making us sweat a little, but he’s going to agree. Saints, let him agree—
“I am not blind,” Luk said. “I fear what will become of us either way.” He looked at Lezarius. “You tried to do right. To exemplify the ideals of the Via Sancta. But the evil you faced was stronger. Now it would destroy us all. So Kvengard will stand with you. Four thousand knights and all the Markhounds in the kennels.” A wry smile. “They, at least, cannot be corrupted. They will fight the mages to the death.”
There was a collective exhalation of relief.
“However,” he raised a gloved finger, “you must agree to take prisoners whenever possible. Not the mages, but our own brothers and sisters who have been seduced by the abyssal ley. Perhaps those who succumbed can be rehabilitated and brought back into the fold. I am certain the ley will cleanse itself in time, once Balaur is eliminated.”
Murmurs of agreement went around the table. No one liked the thought of massacring their own knights.
Cardinal Gray began scribbling on a piece of parchment as they hashed out the details. Alexei reviewed each clause carefully, suggesting minor amendments here and there. But it was a remarkably simple document with none of the jockeying for advantage he’d expected. It gave him hope that they all genuinely wanted peace.
When it was done, Gray rewrote the treaty in an elegant hand and passed it around the table. A single page, pledging unity, with all future decisions to be taken collectively. The three Pontifices signed it and pressed their rings into hot wax, marking it with their seals. Since Novostopol’s ring was lost with Falke, Bishop Maria Karolo used her own.
“I will have copies made and distributed,” Clavis said. “We will formally announce the treaty at the reception tonight.”
They were gathering their papers when a Markhawk flew through the window, landing hard on the table. Blood speckled its breast. Luk gently took the creature in his hands, prising loose the message around its foot. His face darkened as he read it.
“It comes from the knights at the Fort of Saint Ludolf,” he said. “The Fort of Saint Agnes is besieged.”
“What?” Clavis exclaimed.
“They are holding for now, but they won’t last long. My knights tried to fight through and free them. Rademacher lost many men and was forced to retreat.”
He handed Clavis the message. She studied the tiny script.
“Two hundred nihilim. How did they slip past our scouts?” Clavis muttered. Her fist tightened, crushing the paper into a ball. “Saint Agnes is only a few hours’ ride from the city. We cannot allow them to establish a foothold. I will take to the field myself at dawn.”
