William Jones
Stories
10
Chapters
3,868
Words
2.6 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 21 h
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The thing about weakness was that there was absolutely nothing redeeming about it. Everyone loved a good Because they understood that the stories were just that, that when a witty wastrel won in the stories because life in the streets taught them to be clever it was just what people And Tristan He wouldn’t hide from that truth, that would just get him killed. He’d always need the edge: the poison and the dagger, the lie and the quiet feet in the dark. He’d always be the rat, scurrying around…-
560 •
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They broke for an early lunch near the bottom of the stairs. It felt morbid to Angharad, having a meal looking down at what might become a grave for some of those eating, but she supposed it would have been even worse to stop halfway through the Toll Road and dine Only a different storm came calling. That Song would sit by her side for the meal was half-expected by now – but only half, it would have been arrogance to go further than that – but it had not been Isabel’s habit to do so unless the…
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560 •
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No one died in the night. A relief, but it did little to lift the mood when they began gathering in the gate room half an hour before the gate forward opened. Angharad had not slept well, wrestling with what she had heard – trying to sort out the truth from the lies. Song had tried to approach her about it but the Pereduri put her off. Unfair as it was, she resented the Tianxi for forcing her hand about eavesdropping on Isabel and Ferranda. Her world had been simpler before that conversation. Now…
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560 •
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As usual, Angharad Tredegar being decent proved to be very inconvenient. Instead of the hour or so Tristan had planned on waiting until the crew began crossing the shattered hall, he had to wait more than the double. Though he never came close enough to see more than their silhouettes in the distance – too much of a risk, with Song Ren around – he caught a glimpse of them leaving and let out a breath of relief. Finally. The thief had learned patience but never learned to love it. Once they were out of…
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560 •
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They waited for the two as long as they could, but neither Remund Cerdan nor Tristan ever made an appearance. As the hours passed, the company grew restless. “It has been too long,” Lord Zenzele finally said. “Either they went back or they are dead.” “Surely,” Isabel said, “we could wait a little longer.” The dark-haired beauty had grown increasingly distressed as time went by. Angharad felt for her: of the two boys she had come with, one had proved a villain and the other was now likely…
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560 •
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Something was off. That was his first thought when he woke, for all that someone was staring down at him. “Ferranda declined. We’ll have to do without her.” Tristan rubbed his eyes blearily, hiding his discomfort by throwing Yong half a glare. At a look, people were only just beginning to stumble into the courtyard – the usual early birds. The only person already in the kitchen was Vanesa, whose late nap last night must have shortened her night. “How are you this much of a morning person?”…
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560 •
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Black-cloaked watchmen carried away Felis’ body. What remained of it, anyway: musket balls had turned the man into red rags. Tristan felt no grief at the sight. If there was a tragedy in Felis it was in who he had been, not who he’d become. Dust, fear and poverty had worn away the good and left the bad in sharp relief. What remained had not endeared him to the thief, though neither had it been deserving of scorn. It did not matter whether a stone was marble or gravel: if you left it at the bottom of…
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560 •
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On the other side of the gate waited not a test but a tunnel. Narrow and damp it led them up for fifteen minutes, occasionally at so strong an upwards tilt that some of them slid on the smooth stone and tumbled back into others. It was a relief when they emerged into open grounds, entering some sort of strange water garden. It looked like a large pond with islands of stone tracing a path across, but the waters turned out to be fathomlessly deep. And the path itself was occasionally chancy path, as they…
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560 •
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To her very great shame, Angharad’s first reaction was relief it had not been one of hers. The second was fury: Aines’ corpse could not have been left out of the hall by accident, the murderer had wanted them all to see it. She strode over to the crowd, only some of them turning at the sound: the rest were too busy shouting. Lord Ishaan was the first to notice her and the man – still chubby-cheeked, for all that the fresh scar across his lip now lent him a harder edge – turned red as an…
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560 •
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Tristan could not figure out how to make the damn folded ladder work, so he ended up bleating like a lost goat for half an hour before one of the watchmen on patrol heard him. It was another ten minutes after that of Lieutenant Vasanti and her minions asking him through shouts to describe the device in detail then failing to get it work. In the end one of the blackcloaks just threw him a rope ladder, giving up the machinery for a lost cause. It was only watchmen when he came down, with one exception:…
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560 •
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