Iron Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City (6 page)

I let my mind focus on Ignatius, remembering the last time I had seen him. At one of the Blood Assemblies, feeling sweat trickle down my back in the overcrowded, overheated room, trying not to breathe in the smell of blood and smoke and fear too deeply. Ignatius had passed just a few feet away from me, moving amidst a pack of his supporters as they walked toward the stairs that led to the private chambers above. He had scanned the room with arrogant brown eyes, the very image of a man well satisfied with himself and his place in the world. He exuded an air of casual cruelty, of belief that whatever he wanted should be reality, that made the crowds part to let him through. Even now the memory made my spine crawl.

I had told Martin that I needed to be near someone to see their future but that wasn’t strictly true. It was easier that way, but sometimes, if I caught a glimpse of someone in a vision, I could follow that glimpse and expand upon it.

I didn’t do it often. Hells, I did as little as possible with my power. Each time I used it, it grew stronger and the pain of resisting grew worse. The deepest I cared to go was the surface skimming I did to tell fortunes to foolish women and men. That had once been bearable, but lately even taking such quick glimpses was growing chancy, requiring more and more brandy to dull the pain.

I’d let myself go deeper over the last few weeks as I’d sought information for Simon and Guy while I was out skulking around the edges of the Night World, and I was paying the price for it in my constant headaches.

Tonight, despite the fact I’d already strained the limits of my tolerance by going to the DuCaines’ ball, it seemed I would have to risk delving even further into the depths of my abilities.

Ignatius
, I thought fiercely.
Show me Ignatius
.

The images swirled around me, flickering like leaves in a storm wind. I searched them desperately, trying to find that arrogant face amongst the whirlwind. Other Blood came to me. The stark beauty of Adeline Louis and the cruel face of the late unlamented Lord Lucius. Not what I wanted to see at all.

And then, finally, another glimpse of Ignatius. I reached out my hand and grabbed at the image, drawing it closer in my mind.

Ignatius.

The images multiplied around, rising like a swarm of bees. Full of blood and horror. Ignatius standing over corpses, Ignatius feeding, fangs buried deep in the neck of a weeping woman. Ignatius laughing as someone was killed in front of him. Ignatius seated in a vast hall, in a chair that had to be called a throne while Beast and Fae knelt before him.

What the hell
?

I wrenched myself out of the vision, nerves screaming with the sharp pain of my resistance.
Fae kneeling to the Blood.

No.

Not possible. If that were a possible future, the City was in far worse trouble than I had suspected.

My heart pounded in my ears as the room reeled around me. I tasted bile and brandy in my throat and swallowed it back with an effort.

“What did you see?” Martin’s voice was eager in my ear. “What is it?”

I swallowed again, not sure I could speak without my voice shaking. “I didn’t see Simon DuCaine.” Fire rolled through my head, searing. Gods. I wanted the pain to stop. If I survived this night, I was going to see Saskia, find out if the effect of her touch had just been a coincidence.

Martin growled. “I don’t believe you, boy.”

I opened my eyes as the sick burning feeling in my head receded. Turned my head and stared at him. “I’m telling the truth.”

Chapter Three

S
ASKIA

The
morning came too soon. The hall maid knocked at my door at precisely half past six as I had requested. I’d had only a few hours’ sleep and they’d been uneasy, with the memory of that last touch of Fen’s hand on mine mixing with images of my brothers fighting and the City in uproar in my dreams.

In truth, it was a relief to be awake, even though my body tried to persuade me to stay where I was. Ignoring the siren song of more sleep, I climbed out of bed, groped for my robe, and stumbled the short distance across the room to the door. The steaming tea tray set neatly on the floor outside was a welcome sight. Even better, the smell wafting up from the china pot it held spoke of coffee, not tea. Thank fire.

I gulped down coffee in between bites of bread and jam. Not my usual breakfast, but nerves kindled sparks in my stomach as I’d known they would. I could eat more after the ceremony. Hopefully I would have something to celebrate by then.

After breakfast I dressed carefully, donning the best of my apprentice tunics, the one I kept for official occasions. Its earthy red was unmarred by burns or scald marks or chemical stains and it smelled like the soap used by the laundry instead of the faint scent of smoke and fire that usually permeated my clothes. With my hair braided behind my head and a clean black skirt, I looked respectable. Adult. Trustworthy.

Nervous
, I realized, studying the pale reflection in the mirror. I pinched my cheeks, not wanting to bother with cosmetics or glamours. There were enough opportunities to play with feminine things in my mother’s world, particularly now with Holly joining the family. Having the services of a very talented modiste at hand was useful. I frowned down at the boxy tunic. Maybe Holly or Reggie could make one that would be slightly more flattering.

And that was an odd thought. Normally I was happy for the comfort of my Guild clothes and the familiar sense of focus and anonymity they provided. I obviously had had far too little sleep.

With a last nervous poke at the pins holding my braids in place, I forced myself to turn away from the mirror and leave the room. I wasn’t the only one hurrying through the halls early this morning. Almost every student in the Guild was heading in the same direction as I was, toward the Ore Hall, where the Guild Master would be announcing the members of the delegation.

There were plenty of Master mages and journeymen making their way too. Everyone, it seemed, was curious to see who would be selected. Even if only a few of us could realistically expect to be chosen. The Guild didn’t officially rank apprentices, but after four years of study and sweat and sheer bloody hard work, I knew that I stood very high—if not first—amongst my classmates. Surely I had done enough? Surely they would pick me?

My hands curled into fists as I pictured it.

My
name. My hard work recognized. My place earned and nothing my interfering family could do to stop it. A place in the delegation meant not only freedom and being able to contribute to something important but a chance to mingle with the Fae smiths who would accompany the Veiled Queen. To be known to them.

Which was the very first step to one day perhaps being able to study with them. The Fae did things with metals that no human metalmage could hope to emulate and they guarded their secrets closely, but if I wanted to become a true Master. . . to maybe one day find the alloy that could replace iron and free the humans from some of the tyrannies of the treaty restrictions . . . then learning what I could from the Fae would be essential.

They only ever worked with the brightest and the best of the human metalmages.

I needed to be the best. I needed to be chosen today. I didn’t want a life shaping iron or metals to the whims of the Guild of Mechanizers or other customers. I wanted to help change the City for the better.

I forced myself to relax, to look unconcerned, as I reached the doors to the Ore Hall. As I passed through, Master Columbine spoke my name, looming up at my side like a sentinel crow in her Master’s robes of black and gold. “Saskia, a word if you please.” She was shorter than me, the top of her black bun just level with my shoulder, but size didn’t equal power. Master Columbine was one of the strongest mages at the Guild, able to make gold dance to her will. Normally I would be happy if she singled me out for attention, but not this morning.

I tried not to let my flash of frustration show on my face. If I was too slow, I would lose my chance at a seat near the front of the hall. I wanted to be nearby when my name was called. “As you wish, Master,” I said and let her draw me over to the side of the foyer.

“Master Aquinas would like to see you, afterward,” Master Columbine said. Her bright blue eyes had a look I couldn’t quite decipher.

“Of course,” I said automatically, then pressed my lips together, hiding a grin. Of course he would want to see me. He would want to see all the delegates. I had done it. Elation made me giddy, rushing through my veins like brandy.

I ducked my head toward Master Columbine. “Was there anything else, Master?”

She sighed and flapped her hands toward the front of the hall. “No. Go on. I won’t keep you any longer.”

I hurried off, working my way through the throng. The first few rows had filled up with the Masters, but I spotted an empty seat in the fourth row, off to the side. Not ideal, but it would do. I took my seat just as the Guild Master entered the hall, silence spreading before him as he walked down the center aisle, heading for the ornate bronze lectern at the front of the room.

Like Master Columbine, he wore black and gold, though in his case, his chains of office were so elaborate, a complicated intertwining network of gold medallions and looping chains of every possible kind of metal, that it was more gold than black, as though he were clothed in metal. Indeed, the chains shifted and flowed more easily than they should have, the enchantments that bound them and powered the Master’s bonds singing softly through the air. The spark of power within each medallion made it gleam, so that to a mage’s eyes, the Master was surrounded by a glow of authority, an echo of the molten earth fires from which the metals we worked came.

Master Aquinas was not overly tall but he bore the gold decorations easily, despite their weight. He, like me, was a mage whose affinity was for iron and he seemed to echo the strength of that metal as he laid the leather-bound book he carried on the lectern, set his shoulders, and waited for the silence to be total before beginning to speak.

I listened to his words with only half an ear, impatient for him to get to the important part. We all knew that the negotiations were important, perhaps more important than ever, given the current unrest in the Night World and elsewhere. What we wanted to know was who would get to take part in them. Aquinas spoke for several minutes before he finally finished the formalities and opened the book.

“These are the Guild delegates,” he said and began to read the names. Masters first, then journeymen. I held my breath as he read out the tenth journeyman. There was a soft buzz of voices now, whispered reactions to each name, but it died away as Master Aquinas paused and looked out over the room with a frown before he turned back to the book.

“And finally, the students who have been chosen to serve the delegates.” Master Aquinas paused again and I fought to keep my hands calmly in my lap. “First year. Carlisle Abernathy.” He held up a hand for silence when there was another buzz of noise. “Second year. Marcus Trent. Third year. Rebecca Covington.” He took a breath and I felt mine freeze in my throat. “Fourth year.” He paused and looked out over the crowd. Not at me. “Sara Ledbetter.”

I didn’t hear him speak the fifth name over the roar of shock in my ears. Merely sat frozen, trying not to show dismay on my face as the naming drew to a close and, eventually, everyone started to depart the hall. It was almost empty when there was a light touch on my shoulder and I looked up to see Master Columbine.

“Saskia, you have an appointment with Master Aquinas. No dawdling.”

There seemed to be no polite response that I could conjure. I merely nodded, managed to stand, and headed toward the exit, moving automatically.

* * *

The time spent cooling my heels in the Master’s antechamber did nothing to cool the rage burning in my heart. Hell’s fire and blighted earth.

Simon and Guy had done this. I knew it.

Somehow they had convinced Master Aquinas to keep me out of the delegation. I didn’t know how they’d done it. I wasn’t aware that they’d visited the Guild at any time over the last few weeks, but Master Aquinas didn’t spend all his time here. Somehow my brothers had gotten to him.

Convinced him that I wasn’t worthy. How
dare
they?

I sucked in a breath, the prentice chain at my neck—plain silver and iron—growing warmer as my anger increased. I could hardly convince Master Aquinas that my brothers were wrong about me if I lost control of my powers in his presence. I tried to let my mind go blank, to direct the power back down into the earth. The tiles beneath my feet began to feel too warm.

Hell’s fucking fires indeed.

Where was a bucket of ice water when I needed one?

Just as I was wondering if I dared risk leaving the chamber, the Master’s door finally swung open and Master Columbine stepped out. For a moment I thought I saw sympathy in her expression, but then it returned to its usual calm composure. “You may go in now.”

I nodded, not daring to speak in case the curses still boiling in my head spilled out. My hands clenched in the folds of my skirts as I entered the Master’s office.

Master Aquinas was slipping a book back into place in the ceiling-high rows of shelves that covered one wall. He no longer wore the Master’s chain but that did little to alter the authority he wielded. The Guild Master’s office was large and the metalwork that formed the decorations and furnishings was both beautiful and elaborate, designed to display the power of the Guild. Yet Master Aquinas was the thing that drew the gaze in this place.

His gray eyes were calm as he acknowledged me with a gesture toward the chairs by the fireplace.

“Prentice DuCaine, would you like to sit down?”

“Not particularly.” I snapped my mouth shut before I could say anything worse.

“Then perhaps you would do so to indulge me?” Master Aquinas said. “There are things to discuss.”

“Things called Simon and Guy?” I said, staying where I was.

Master Aquinas sighed. “Sit down, Saskia.”

Despite the sigh, it was a command. I sat.

“You’re upset,” he said as he seated himself in the chair opposite mine.

“Why, Guild Master, whatever reason would I have to be upset? You just announced publicly that Sara Ledbetter is a better mage than I am. What could possibly upset me in that?”

His mouth quirked. “Would you like to swear at me a little?”

“No, sir,” I said. “I believe I’ll save that for my brothers.”

Master Aquinas’ face turned serious. “It wasn’t your brothers, Saskia.”

“Oh really?” I said, letting my disbelief color my words.

“No,” he said firmly. “It was me.”

For the second time that morning my mouth dropped open and the rage drained away, to be replaced by stark cold fear. Him? Master Aquinas had made the decision to exclude me himself? Sainted earth, did that mean I really wasn’t good enough?

“What do you mean?” I stared at Master Aquinas, not sure I believed what I was hearing. “I’ve worked hard for this. You know I’m the best in my year.”

He nodded. “Yes. I do. You’re also the only one in your year with an affinity for iron. We need that skill, Saskia. It will be more important than ever if the negotiations don’t go the way we want them to.”

“You’re saying I’m
too
good to go?” I was still struggling to take it in. I’d worked so hard and now that apparently was the reason they weren’t going to let me reach my goal.

“I’m saying that we need to keep you safe.”

“The negotiations are held under Haven laws. With the Veiled Queen present to enforce them. I’m hardly going to be at risk.” I tried to keep the snap out of my voice and only partly succeeded. I bit my lip, twisted my fingers through my prentice chain before I made things worse.

Master Aquinas leaned forward, setting his chains chiming softly against each other. “That’s not strictly true. This is not a normal treaty negotiation. Not with the way things lie in the City. Anything could happen. The negotiations may well be disrupted. I want you here safe at the Academy.”

“You think someone is going to attack the Treaty Hall?” Really, I couldn’t have been any more startled if Master Aquinas had announced he had decided he was now attracted to women and wanted to marry me.

“I’m saying that we don’t know and I’m not taking any risks. Your skills are more valuable to me here.”

I frowned. “You think the supply of iron is going to be reduced?”

“It could be. Which means we will need the best mages to work what we have. And to keep looking for substitutes.” He nodded at me. “Your experiments have been promising.”