Poison (24 page)

"We need to get back into the palace," Ivan said. "Is there another way?"

Noire shook his head. "No. The palace was built so that the drawbridge was the only way; it's a holdover from the early days after the Loss, when everything was much more violent and the sorcerers prowled."

Ivan swore. "For the moment, then, we need to find cover. Raz saved us once, but he won't be able to do it again. We need shelter, food, and healing supplies for your hand. Probably a glove as well; best not to get blood and dirt and all in those wounds, sealed or not. Come on."

Standing, Noire followed him further down the street, watching as Ivan poked and prodded at various buildings. "What are we looking for?" he eventually asked, tired of doing nothing except walking and standing.

"A place we can defend. Cities are annoying because there are nooks and crannies everywhere. There's always a window or a door or something that people can use to get inside. We need a place that lacks most of that, that we can easily defend with just the two of us. If we're right in that the Faerie Queen is behind this, then she's not going to quit any time soon. I think Raz is the only reason she's backed off for now."

"Raz? That's the third time, I think, that you've said that name. But it was Zhar Ptitsa who helped us, wasn't it? Who is Raz?"

Ivan laughed. "Raz was his name when he was just a fleet-footed little thief. Then he threw himself into the Sacred Fires and became a god. It's hard to think of him as Zhar Ptitsa, honestly. But it's also hard to believe I know a god."

"Or that he helped you after you threatened to shove his own feathers up his ass," Noire added dryly.

"Or that," Ivan agreed with a grin. "This building is no good; let's keep searching. Keep an eye out for any place we might food as well. If we have to go without for a few days, we can, but given we'll need energy to fight and find a way back into the castle ... "

Noire nodded. "I can find us food once I've rested. The blood loss has weakened me, but I'll be fine by morning and can hunt then. I'm sorry I'm not of much use this way."

"No need to apologize," Ivan said with a smile. "If I could turn into a cat to fight, I definitely would do that. Much easier than costly weapons.  Ah, this looks promising."

"A pawn shop?" Noire asked, looking askance at the building.

Ivan nodded. "Yes. I doubt it has more than a single back door, and that well-secured. Pawn broker is just another word for fence. If there is any place that does not lack for security, it's a place like this. Come on."

He approached the door, which was locked—well locked, Noire saw. The door and locking mechanism weren't cheap; it explained why nobody had broken in or broken the door down. The window had been broken, but somebody had boarded it up before that.

Kneeling, Ivan withdrew a small roll of leather from a pouch and unrolled it on the ground. Extracting one of what were clearly lock picks, he set to work. Only a few minutes later, they were inside. Ivan smiled in satisfaction. "As I said:  secure."

"You were right," Noire agreed. Every other building they'd passed had been ruined inside and out. But the pawnshop was perfectly intact inside; the only damage to it at all was the window.

Noire moved further into the room, stepped behind the front counter, and found a lamp and matches. Lighting it, he set it on the counter and then looked around the shop. Junk, most of it:  cheap jewelry, instruments, a few articles of clothing, music boxes, dolls, other knickknacks and toys. Inside the glass counter were more expensive pieces of jewelry and various collectibles. Somehow, the whole thing seemed very depressing.

But it was a safe place to stay, and for the moment that was definitely all that mattered. Picking up the lamp, Noire carried it with him to the back, hesitating as he dithered between the stairs and the back rooms. Finally he decided on the back rooms. There were two of them:  the first proved to be a storage room filled with items that put the jewelry in the glass case to shame. Noire was fairly certain a couple of the paintings had been stolen from the palace.  "You weren't lying about the pawn broker being a fence."

Ivan snorted. "They always are. It's a very easy, very profitable way to move stolen goods."

Noire looked at him in amusement. "You really were a mercenary once, weren't you?"

"Once? Only two years ago; I still feel more mercenary than duke, especially of late. Come on, let's see what else is around here. Paintings and jewels are no good without someone to sell them to." Ivan closed the door and led the way down the hall, and they both smiled in relief to see they had wandered into the kitchen.

When they were finished poking around, there wasn't much, but there was enough:  Bread that was a little stale, but not yet molded; dried fruit and vegetables; tea… Ivan snorted in amusement as he opened a tin. "Flowers. I will never get over the way you people eat flowers."

"We eat other parts of plants, what's so weird about eating the flowers?" Noire asked and took the tin from him. He broke out into a smile when he saw what was in it. "Dragon blossoms!" Picking out a candied petal, carefully ignoring his missing fingers as he did so, he popped it in his mouth and chewed slowly. The fragrance, the delicate, sweet flavor, immediately improved his mood. "These are my favorite."

"I think Ailill prefers rose petals," Ivan said. "Which seems remarkably expensive for a man who hates being a lord, but when I point that out he just tells me to hush."

Noire laughed as he replaced the lid and set the tin down. "Well, we have food and respectable accommodations. Shall we see what there is in the way of beds?"

Ivan nodded and led the way out of the kitchen, back down the hall, and then up the stairs. There proved to be only one bed, but it was more than large enough to fit them both. Next to the bedroom was a small washroom.

All in all, things could have been worse. Noire tried to keep that in mind as the reality of their situation finally slammed home. "Gael will go out of his mind when he realizes I am missing."

"Hopefully he will go out of his mind and then try to find you," Ivan said somberly. "But I fear that no help is forthcoming, that the Queen will ensure he does not come looking. Ailill would, but ... " His face twisted, and Noire reached out before he thought, gripping Ivan's arm in comfort. Ivan smiled weakly at him, but the tension did not ease. "I would have at least liked one last chance to see him, to say some sort of goodbye."

"We'll see them again, no matter what it takes," Noire said, then frowned as a question struck him. "I understand why I am here. She wants me dead, and in a way, that has nothing to do with her. She could have poisoned me, but that would have made Gael suspicious, I think. But why you?"

"Because she can't control me," Ivan said. "I am immune to whatever spell she has woven that is poisoning the rest of the country. Don't you think it strange that no one, but me has thought it could be one of the Triad? Verde is not so idle a land that it has no jaded individuals. There will always be someone who doubts the throne. It should have occurred to somebody to question the Triad. But no one has. When I tried to mention it to Ailill, he got angry and refused to consider it. After we stopped talking about it, I swear it seemed like he had forgotten about entirely." Ivan frowned. "Come to that, why do you believe me? Why have you seemed unaffected?"

Noire laughed, sad and tired. "Haven't you noticed? Sadly, it took me nearly as long to figure it out. Everyone unaffected by the rage is a filthy half-breed. Harder to pick out the ones who are half-Pozhar or half-Kundou, but they're there. We fall under the Faerie Queen's influence, but not as absolutely, I think."

"Mmm," Ivan said. "We need to figure out how to get back into the palace. The ceremony is in three days. I think if we do not tell everyone what we know and find a way to make them believe us, then the Tragedy will come to pass yet again."

"I don't know how else to get in," Noire said. "The drawbridge really is the only way."

"There is always another way," Ivan said. "Did I tell you that I have a castle? It's a relic from the sorcerer days like the palace, but not nearly as impressive. Very drafty, it took us most of a year to make it bearable. Anyway, it has a moat. Nothing as dramatic as yours. It's just a very big, very deep hole. Once, they drove in wooden spikes to impale the poor bastards who fell in. Now, it's just a hole. But my point is that the castle has a way down to the moat, a hidden door. How else were they able to get rid of bodies and replace the spikes and all? There is always a way. What is the source of the water?"

Noire looked at him in surprise. "The ocean, of course. It comes in under the city; I'm surprised you have not seen the canals that cut through the city."

"Haven't explored the city much," Ivan said. "So it's essentially piped to the palace?"

"Yes, it reaches the palace on the west side and rushes around it, spilling back out on the east side and going back to the ocean. It's a marvel because there are all manner of contraptions to keep out fish and such. Every now and then, there is flooding, but the city engineers have fine-tuned everything over the years. I can't believe you did not know all this."

Ivan laughed. "I've had other things on my mind; city engineering was not as interesting. I say we lay low for tonight, see if anyone else tries to come after us. Tomorrow we will sneak back to the palace and see if we can figure out another way in. There should be an access point, if only for maintenance purposes. We find that, we get back into the palace, and we will show the Faerie Queen why she should have done the deed herself instead of trusting others to do it for her."

Noire nodded and prayed silently for Gael to hold on until he got back.

Ailill stared at the lost drawbridge, worry a heavy weight in his stomach. He had not seen Ivan all day, and the night was quickly rushing by. It was not like Ivan to vanish without a word. He knew Ailill was down in the kitchens and storerooms all day, and he always found him to say goodbye before he went anywhere.

They were supposed to be having dinner together, just the two of them. The ceremony was just over two days away and it was a miracle that Ailill was not yet with his fellows. So where was Ivan? "Vanya, what are you doing?" he asked no one. What if Ivan had gone into the city, and could not get back because of the drawbridge?

Who or what had burned down the bridge, anyway? What purpose did that serve? Had the intent been to trap them all inside?

Ailill shook his head, tired of questions that had no answers. Right then, the only question that mattered to him was:  where was Ivan?

He stared down at the churning water of the moat below, occasionally catching glimpses of the fish that managed to get through the safeties meant to prevent it. The sound of footsteps drew him, and Ailill turned to see Freddie walking toward him. She swore loudly. "What happened to the bloody bridge? Who is responsible for this?"

"I don't know," Ailill said. "I was working in the vegetable gardens with a few of the others when someone came to tell me about it. She was discreet about it, thankfully. I was going to come and find you and Gael in a moment, but I knew you were speaking with Etain and it's not like we can undo this ... I don't understand how someone managed to burn down the drawbridge without anyone noticing. You can practically fit a house on the bloody thing."

Freddie said nothing, merely crouched to look more closely at what remained of the drawbridge, the places where it had burned and broken. "It must have been an exceptionally hot fire to burn so quickly. How did no one notice the smoke?"

Ailill just shook his head.

"I've reached out to Etain and Gael," Freddie said, standing up and brushing off her hands. "They should be here shortly. I don't know what we're going to do; rebuilding it will take resources we do not have."

"Hopefully we'll last until after the ceremony. It's more or less two days away," Ailill said, trying not to think about the fact that he was still very much awake. Was he not going to be poisoned after all?

They both turned when they heard footsteps, and Gael, Etain, and a half dozen or so other people come out of the palace and walk across the pavilion to join them.

"What happened here?" Gael demanded. "How did it happen? Who burned down the bridge?"

"I don't know," Ailill said. "One of the servants saw it and came to get me. I was on my way to get you when Freddie showed up. Whatever happened, it happened quickly."

Gael shook his head. "But the bridge is enormous! It's as thick as a man is tall and wide enough to fit a modest townhouse! Long enough to fit several. And if the pieces fell into the moat, they should have jammed it up. But everything is gone. Even a fire child of impressive talent would not be able to burn down such an enormous bridge so quickly! I don't—" He cried out and gripped his head.

"You must calm down, Gael," Etain soothed, lightly touching his arm. Her soft, sweet voice relaxed him, though he still looked strained as he stared at the scorched and broken remains of the bridge.

"So we're trapped here," Gael said. "I hope nobody was in the city when it happened."

Ailill felt sick. "I'm worried Ivan was," he said quietly. "He usually tells me when he's going out, but if he had reason to go suddenly ... and I cannot find him anywhere in the palace."

"I can go out and look for him," Freddie said promptly. "But it does seem strange he would go without leaving word. If nothing else, he would have gotten Noire. Don't they always go into the city together? Where is Noire?"

Gael went still—too still. "I don't know," he said quietly. "Normally this time of night he is my rooms with dinner. We've been so busy preparing for the ceremony and everything, I just assumed he was busy elsewhere. But I can't feel him. Etain, can you?"

Etain closed her eyes, and Ailill could feel the soft brush of her mind, her power, as she reached out to all of her children. "No," she finally whispered, colorful eyes dark and sad as she looked at them. "I cannot feel Noire, nor the presence of Lord Ivan. I am sorry." She blinked back tears and bowed her head. "I admit I have lost all affection for the Voice in recent days, but I would never truly wish his demise."