King Breaker (11 page)

Piro suspected the men were going to argue all night. Meanwhile the Affinity creatures roamed the ship. She turned to the boy. ‘You’re Miron?’

He nodded. ‘I didn’t know they’d turn nasty. They looked so sweet and frightened, but when I tried to give them a bowl of milk and honey they swarmed all over me.’

Piro nodded. ‘Kresatrices...’ She supposed they were a mix between a cockatrice and a kresillum. A full grown male cockatrice stood taller than a man, with razor sharp leg spurs, wings and a serpent’s tail. It could spit deadly poison, accurate up to two body-lengths. The feathers of a cockatrice were fine as fur and highly prized, but the beasts were not something you’d keep as a pet. The kresillum, on the other hand, was the size of a cat. Its hard shell protected it from predators, and if that failed it would sing so sweetly that the predator forgot everything. They weren’t poisonous, but if someone had been cross-breeding the two, who knew what the result would be?

The spice merchant’s agent was right about one thing—the creatures had been defending themselves. If she left it up to the captain, he’d catch them and kill them. If she left it up to the merchant, he’d sell them. She would have to catch the frightened hatchlings herself.

F
LORIN AND
V
ARUSKA
left the betrothal celebrations early. Florin felt weary as she helped the false-Piro strip off her finery. So much had happened since they’d both entered the castle this morning.

‘This is your chance,’ Varuska whispered. She stood by the fire, wearing one of Piro’s nightgowns. Stray wisps of her long hair rose in the hot drafts coming from the flames. ‘Go find my sister now.’

‘As soon as you’re in bed.’

Varuska climbed in and pulled up the covers. ‘Give her my bundle. Anatoley can wear my things.’

Florin nodded.

‘Tell her I’m safe. Don’t tell her about...’ Varuska gestured to the chamber, her pretty face pinched with fear. ‘Granna mustn’t worry.’

Florin nodded.

Here she was, running messages for Piro’s imposter when she should have been assassinating Cobalt. But it was thanks to Varuska’s masquerade that Florin knew Cobalt’s manservant was really an Ostronite assassin. She would have to take Amil into consideration when she killed Cobalt.

Whatever happened, she was not going to put Varuska’s life in danger.

Florin closed the door to Piro’s chamber and backed into a man-at-arms. Fool, she should have anticipated Cobalt would set a guard.

‘Here, where are you off to?’ He steadied her. A gleam lit up his eyes. ‘Breeches, eh?’

Florin sent him a cold look. ‘I need my bundle.’

Just then two men came down the corridor carrying a blanket-wrapped body between them. In a castle this size, with its many servants and visitors, someone was always sick and dying.

After they’d gone, the man-at-arms was no longer interested in her breeches. ‘Fetch your bundle. An’ be quick about it.’

Florin nodded, heading off down the passage. With every step she took, a feeling of foreboding grew. From Byren’s description, Cobalt was not the benevolent kind. Now that she thought about it, Old Mirona and Anatoley would be better off leaving tonight before Cobalt could reconsider and give Amil different orders.

As Florin rounded the bend, she nearly bumped into a candle-trimmer. They both jumped. He was half her size and nervous as a mouse. She would have apologised, but he hurried away with his step-stool and candle snuffer.

Florin entered the female servants’ chamber to find it in darkness. Only a glimmer of light came through the high window. She collected Varuska’s bundle and felt her way towards the old woman’s pallet. ‘Mirona?’

No answer.

Of course, it had been her body the men had been carrying. Poor old thing...

Florin’s boot crunched on something underfoot. She tucked the bundle under her arm, knelt and felt for the object. Her fingers found the shattered goddess.

Old Mirona had not died of natural causes.

Florin had to find Anatoley before Cobalt’s thugs did. Sick with horror, she fled.

P
IRO TURNED TO
the cabin boy. ‘Show me where you were keeping the kresatrices.’

‘We had them in the galley.’ Miron scurried along the hall and out onto the middeck, where the crew were still gathered around the injured youth. They crossed the deck unnoticed and climbed down the ladder.

The huge cast-iron stove, with its many warming plates and two ovens, stood amidst the chaos of copper pots, pans and food. Half-covered in debris, a large grey-haired man sprawled dead on the galley floor.

‘That’s Cookie. Staz is his apprentice.’ Miron saw she didn’t understand. Tears filled his eyes. ‘Staz got bitten. I shoulda—’

‘Couldn’t be helped.’ Piro squeezed his shoulder. It made sense to keep the Affinity beast eggs in the galley, where it was warm. ‘Bet Cookie didn’t like having Affinity cargo in his kitchen.’

‘How did you know?’

She knew cooks and she knew Affinity beasts. If she was lucky, she’d find the kresatrices curled up asleep in their nest. ‘Where were they kept?’

‘This way.’ Miron picked a path through the pots and pans, giving the dead cook a wide berth.

‘It must have been a terrible fight,’ Piro observed.

‘When they swarmed me, Cookie roared like a wyvern and swung his cleaver. He saved my life.’

‘How many kressies were there?’

‘Nine.’

‘All of them hatched?’

Miron nodded.

‘Did Cookie kill any?’

‘Just the one.’ Miron pointed to a large over-turned baking dish on the floor. ‘There.’

Piro lifted the dish gingerly. She needn’t have worried. The kresatrice was well and truly dead, its body hacked to bits.

Miron sniffed and hunkered down. ‘Poor kressie.’

Piro turned the little thing over. It had the hard plates of a kresillum, but with its lizard’s tail, legs and neck, it was most like a cockatrice. The small, feathered wings wouldn’t have been strong enough to lift it off the ground. The face was curiously sweet. Now dull in death, in life the large eyes would have been jewel-like, but that small snout contained...

‘Fangs.’ Piro pointed. ‘That’ll be how it injects poison. Wish I knew what the surgeon used to revive—’

‘He saved Staz?’

‘Too soon to be sure,’ Piro told him. ‘Are the kressies all this pretty?’

‘I only got a quick look, but some were prettier.’ Miron crawled over to the stove. ‘This is where we kept them.’ The great cast iron stove sat in a tiled sand-box to prevent the heat from the stove scorching the deck. The cabin boy pointed to a chest with a distinctive symbol on the side. ‘It was filled with straw to stop the eggs from breaking.’

Now it was filled with eggshells.

‘It’s very deep. Are there more eggs underneath?’ Piro went to dig her hands down into the straw, then thought better of it. Taking a knife, she carefully parted the broken eggshells and straw. ‘There’s a rock.’

She put the knife aside and removed the rock. There were veins of something pretty running through it, and when she touched these, she sensed...

‘Affinity?’ It all made sense. ‘The mother would have kept the eggs warm, but they needed both heat and Affinity or the babies wouldn’t mature and hatch.’

Piro placed the Affinity stone on the table and dusted off her hands. Siordun would want to see this. ‘We should take the body up. I’ll need a big pot with a lid.’ She spotted just the thing.

Behind her, Miron whimpered.

Piro slowly turned. Three kresatrices had climbed over the cook’s body. They perched on the cook’s broad chest, their tiny mouths stained with blood. Serpentine tongues tasted the air.

Two of them had red chests with iridescent blue markings on the neck and legs. The third was emerald green with red markings. Three sets of jewel-bright eyes fixed on Piro.

‘They’re so colourful,’ she whispered. ‘They should have been easy to find.’

Miron dug into his pockets. ‘Where did I put me...’

The kresatrices began to whine. Piro found the sound annoying, but Miron swayed in time to it, sinking to his knees. She caught his arm. ‘What are you...’

He gave her a dreamy smile.

The kresatrices made a soft noise, and she looked up. They were now less than a body-length away, eyes bright with malice.

No time to call for help. Piro knew her Affinity was good for only one thing. She concentrated on gathering her power, felt it slide down her arm until her fingers throbbed with each beat of her heart.

On sensing her Affinity, the kresatrices’ whine became higher-pitched and eager.

‘Come here, kressies,’ Piro crooned, edging to one side so that the empty roasting pot was between her and the creatures. ‘Come taste what I have for you.’

They came, scattering food and pans. She held one hand over the roasting pot, reaching for the lid with the other. The kresatrices reached the edge of the pot. Intent on the treat, two climbed into it while the third struggled to climb in.

The first two reached Piro’s hand. Their tongues flickered out, tickling her skin. They stopped whining and Miron gasped as if waking.

‘Don’t move,’ Piro whispered. The third kresatrice tumbled into the pot and she slammed the lid down fast.

‘You did it!’ Miron marvelled. ‘But how did you do it?’

‘I offered them my Affinity,’ Piro said. She might not be able to make Siordun’s stupid stone glow, but surely this proved she was worth training. ‘I’m the Power-worker’s apprentice.’

‘What are you doing down here?’ Siordun barked from the doorway. Behind him were Nikoforus and the ship’s captain.

‘Catching kresatrices,’ Piro said, coming to her feet with the big roasting pot in her arms. ‘There’s three in here. With the dead one, that leaves five still to catch.’

‘We have three dead ones laid out on deck,’ the captain said.

‘There goes my commission,’ Nikoforus muttered.

Piro ignored him. ‘That leaves two for us to find.’

‘You lured them with Affinity?’ Siordun asked.

She nodded.

‘I don’t need your help, Power-worker,’ Nikoforus said. ‘I have it under control.’

‘Like you did when you left an Affinity stone in the same chest as the eggs?’ Piro asked, pointing to the chest.

Siordun went over and inspected the stone. ‘Look at the size of it. It’s no wonder the creatures hatched early.’

‘The breeder assured me they needed it.’ Nikoforus sent Piro a look of loathing. He beckoned the cabin boy. ‘There’s a chest in my cabin with the same symbol as that one. Go fetch it.’

Miron ran off, and Nikoforus swept everything off the galley table onto the floor. The loud clatter of pots and pans made the kresatrices panic. Piro heard their little claws scrabbling around inside the metal pot. The lid rose slightly. She put the roasting pot on a chair and sat on it, which gave her a good view of the table when Miron returned with the second chest.

Nikoforus opened it and felt around in the packing straw. ‘These are talismans. When a child is given a pet kresatrice, they’re also given a talisman to tame it.’

He pulled out an object the size of his fist, tied up in cloth. The captain and the cabin boy watched, fascinated, as he untied the cloth to reveal two stones, one much larger than the other. The large one had been worked so that the small one slotted into it neatly. He displayed the two stones. ‘The large one is to chastise and the smaller is to reward.’

‘A pair of sorbt stones?’ Piro guessed.

‘Sorbt stones,’ Siordun agreed.

Piro frowned. ‘I don’t see—’

‘The larger one absorbs power. It would sting a kresatrice,’ Siordun said. ‘The smaller one is a sealer stone. As long as the two stones are in contact, the small one stops the larger one from absorbing power.’

‘Then why would the small one reward the kressies?’ Piro asked.

‘Because, over time, the small stone absorbs the power stored in the big stone. Think how good a fire-warmed stone feels on a cold winter’s night when you crawl into bed. That’s how it would feel to an Affinity creature.’

Piro held out her hand. ‘Can I see?’

With reluctance, the merchant’s agent gave her the joined stones. She hissed, dropping them.

‘Stupid girl,’ Nikoforus snarled. ‘You’ll break the talisman.’

‘It burned my skin.’ Piro licked her palm and blew on it.

‘That’s not right. Show me.’ Siordun held out his hand.

‘Careful,’ Piro warned.

Siordun tucked his sleeve over his palm, then tested the talisman on his bare skin. He grimaced. ‘You’ve been had twice over, Nikoforus.’

‘The absorber stone works. I saw you flinch.’

‘That’s true. But the sealer stone doesn’t.’ Siordun put the stones on the table. ‘Turn up the lamp. I’ll need the sharpest knife you can find.’

Miron adjusted the lamp.

‘Here.’ The captain handed over his dagger. ‘Best steel there is, and I sharpen it every day.’

‘The absorber stone is obsidiate,’ Siordun said. ‘It’s rare, but not as rare as jadian, the sealer stone. Jadian is harder even than steel. If I can scratch this piece...’ He removed the smaller stone from its niche and scraped the tip of the knife over the surface.

The blade left a mark. Siordun expelled his breath. ‘Just as I thought. Soapstone.’

‘Stone made of soap?’ Miron muttered.

‘No, a stone that looks like jadian but is softer and easy to carve. Unscrupulous gem merchants will sell it as—’

Nikoforus bristled. ‘One poor quality stone does not mean the rest—’

‘Then give me another to test.’

‘Pick one yourself.’

‘I’m not putting my hands in there. I could be burnt.’

‘Miron.’ Piro nodded to the cabin boy, who dug around in the straw for another talisman. ‘Now take the jadian out of the absorber stone.’

While he was tipping the jadian out, Siordun asked for a hair. Intrigued, Piro supplied one. He tied the hair tightly around the sealer stone, then lit a taper.

‘If this stone is pure jadian, it will absorb the heat and the hair won’t burn. Come closer.’

They all obeyed.

The hair burned.

Siordun blew out the taper. ‘You were cheated, Nikoforus. The breeder was glad to get rid of the kresatrices, and the talismans are cheap fakes.’