William Jones
Stories
10
Chapters
3,868
Words
2.6 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 21 h
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A secret, Abuela had taught Tristan, always whispered twice. The first was the secret reaching your ear, the hidden thing unearthed. The second was the whisper of what a man had thought worth wielding a spade to bury, what it said of them they would keep away from prying eyes. He thought of that, as Lieutenant Vasanti called up her soldiers and introduced him as their fresh meat, a new helper in their work to unearth the tower’s secrets who would soon be joined by three more. He thought of it and smiled…-
560 •
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It was as an endless gallery. The crystal walls fed into each other, promising infinity in a thimble as the mirroring went on and on. The heights were not all the same, the angles askew and there were even slight slopes to the ground to further muddle the senses. Th effect was strong: Angharad had barely taken ten steps before she became uncertain which way she had entered. A pale and silvery glow hung in the air, lighting the way, but there was no visible source for it. Boots whispering across the smooth…
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560 •
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It was a grim supper. After the day’s bloody price none were in a chatting mood and Angharad discreetly asked Song to stay close to Zenzele, lest he lose his temper and strike another again. Felis had been acting tastelessly enough that none had made a fuss over the brawl, but if the Malani had to be dragged out of another scrap she suspected sympathy would wane. Isabel, who sat by her side as they dug into their plates of salted pork, biscuits and peas, leaned close. “Only one victor for Lord…
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560 •
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“So?” Vanesa frowned down at the papers with the gate mechanisms drawn on them, idly picking at the edge of her missing eye wound. Maryam was a deft hand with charcoal. “It is not a lock,” the clockmaker said. “It is much too complex for that. That it is a machine is not in doubt, but the manner of machinery it is trips me up.” Tristan, crouched at her side, hummed as he glanced at the papers. He taken looks at Maryam’s drawings as well but gotten little out of it. He was a lockpicker,…
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560 •
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One more joined their number. Yaretzi was the last, approaching her on the evening when Tupoc and Lord Ishaan’s crews went scouting ahead. The Aztlan did not look any worse for the labors of the first trial, her tanned face without mark and her practical clothes – a sleeveless stripe blouse above a long patchwork skirt, all of it under a thick sailor’s coat – barely scuffed. The earrings dangling from her ears were of the same copper-gold as Tupoc’s, but they were set with blue stones. They drew…
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560 •
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Tristan began fiddling with his cabinet like there was a point to it, keeping his hands occupied so he wouldn’t have to think about what he had just walked away from. When he saw her approaching from the corner of his eye, it was almost a relief. Shalini Goel was the shortest of all the trial-takers, barely five feet five by his guess, and though she was full-bodied the thief could tell it was not the result of idleness: there was muscle to her frame and calluses on her palms. The same kind Guardia…
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560 •
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Angharad Tredegar walked away, leaving him to stand alone before the gate, and Tristan smiled. That had worked out better than he’d hoped it might. The invitation to join her crew had come as a surprise to him – and to her as well, he suspected – but it told him his instincts had been correct. Tredegar liked for people to be good and bad, with little room in between, so now that he was not strictly bad her opinion of him was leaning the other way. “That was nice of you,” Fortuna mused, chin…
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560 •
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The consolation prizes for being denied her duel were several. Sergeant Mandisa sent a Watch surgeon to stitch the cut on her head and she sat down for a hot meal afterwards. Little more than stew and bread, but both were warm and after days on the run she would have been delighted by even a warm rock. She polished both off and Sergeant Mandisa even offered her a thimble of brandy, which she had not anyone else, before clapping her shoulder. “There’s a few swords in the armoury,” she said. “Have…
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560 •
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It was a long and narrow road. Past the woods, where the crags met the mountains, a tunnel dove into the rock. Angharad was too bone-tired to do more than stumble forward through it. There were lanterns and stairs, the winding of the road taking them back outside – on the side of the mountain, with only a ramshackle wooden railing in the way of the precipitous drop below – before going up in a jagged zig-zag. In the distance she saw an island darkened, a realm of monsters and darklings with the stars…
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560 •
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Tristan couldn’t quite believe it when they broke the treeline. “It’s the right place,” Sarai fervently told him. “The hills are in the right arrangement.” She had to be right, she was no fool and she had the map tucked away inside her mind through a Sign, and yet the thief felt no relief. Before them a great clearing in the forest was stretching out, rolling hills and a stretch of gleaming grass. Miles of open land, with trees on all sides save the north – where the ravine lay, and the…
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560 •
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