The Crimson Crown (25 page)

But they would smile and nod and stroke the fabric of his jacket and offer to pay him back somehow.

Need a bit o’ slide-hand done, Lord Alister, anything on the down-low, you know who to come to.

My Nancy, she’s a rum seamstress. Looks like you could use some new clothes, or some repairs, at least. When we get set up again, come along by, and she’ll take your measure.

I got the best fancies in the market. And they’d be proud to meet you, if you know what I mean.

Any time you need some blacksmithin’ done, you come to me. Do the best work this side of the river. No charge.

“I don’t understand it,” Han muttered to Cat, standing next to him. “They’ve lost nearly everything.”

“Nobody’s ever cared what happened to any of them before,” Cat said. “Can you imagine Lord Bayar or Queen Marianna risking their lives to save people in Ragmarket or the Bottoms?” She snorted.

Han remembered what Bayar had said about Ragmarket at the council meeting.

It would benefit the public good if they left the queendom altogether. They would scarcely be missed. And the land would be valuable once cleared of the ragtaggers and their hovels.

Other residents began walking back from their refuges across the river, shaking their heads in amazement, remarking on the landmarks forever gone. They had other stories to tell, as well. They were buzzing about their queen.

“You should have seen her,” one woman said. “She stood up on this wall, this little bit of a thing, and called out orders, and put her shoulder to the wheel of the pump, and carried water just like the rest of us. They kept trying to get her to go into Southbridge Temple, where she’d be safe, but she wouldn’t have none of it. She was ordering wizards around like ’twas nothing.”

“This building nearly fell on Captain Byrne,” a man said. “Queen Raisa, she swore like a teamster. She didn’t sound like no queen I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, maybe we an’t seen any queens like her before,” the woman said, “but I’m glad she’s the one we have now.”

After Han and Cat left, Raisa sent Dancer, Mellony, and Missy back to Fellsmarch Castle in her carriage. Lord Vega arrived with a contingent of healers, and he and Speaker Jemson assessed the injured, deciding which needed to go to the Healer’s Hall and which could be attended by the dedicates at Southbridge Temple.

The dedicates also took charge of the dead.

Raisa held an impromptu meeting in Southbridge Temple with Speaker Jemson, Amon Byrne, and Char Dunedain, to coordinate the cleanup of Ragmarket. General Klemath still hadn’t appeared, though some of his homegrown officers attended. Han and Cat hadn’t returned, either. Raisa felt a twinge of worry.

Nightwalker came as well. He’d returned from Demonai Camp to find half the town in ruins. And Micah, who’d earned a place at the table through his actions on the riverbank.

Micah has to be tired, Raisa thought. She’d been touched by how hard he’d worked fighting the fire, showing little of his usual arrogance, seeming eager to make up for past sins.

Why doesn’t he go home? she wondered. Then she realized—he’s waiting to talk to me.

Raisa forced herself back to the matter at hand. “Until General Klemath can be located, Sergeant Dunedain will coordinate housing for people displaced by the fire,” she said to the Highlander officers. “You are under her command.”

“We’ve already discussed it,” Dunedain said. “We have field tents that can sleep five hundred or so. Since we’ve cleared out the flatland refugees from along the river, we could put them there while we clear out Ragmarket.”

Raisa sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Make sure there are enough latrines available. I don’t want to be putting filth into the river again.”

“Is there any usable housing in Ragmarket?” Speaker Jemson asked. “People would like to stay closer to home, if they could.”

“The old temple in Ragmarket is still standing,” Pearlie said. “That and some buildings in Pilfer Alley. That’s about it.”

“Really?” Raisa looked up, surprised. “The temple was spared? That’s good news.”

“And Pilfer Alley, too?” Micah said, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

Pearlie nodded, tilting her head as if puzzled by Micah’s interest. “I don’t know about Pilfer Alley, but the temple was Lord Alister’s doing. Talia, Mick, Hallie, and I had gathered a whole group of people, but we couldn’t find a way through the flames. So he sent us inside the temple and spun up a magical wall to protect it.”

“He did?” Raisa glanced at Amon to catch his reaction, but he was as unreadable as ever. “He said there were people in the temple, but I didn’t realize—”

“If not for him, there’d have been hundreds of lives lost. Including me and Talia and Hallie and Mick.”

“And Pilfer Alley,” Micah said.

What’s your point, Micah? Raisa thought, irritated.

Pearlie nodded. “He’s a hero, and everybody in Ragmarket knows it. Anyway, the temple could be used for housing, and it’s closer to home for some.”

“The clans will help in any way we can,” Nightwalker said.

“Thank you, Nightwalker,” Amon said. “We’ll see how much help we need in the long run, and how best to use it.”

“There are still funds in the Briar Rose Ministry to help feed and clothe those who need it,” Jemson said. “But that won’t last long, given the need.”

“I will organize an emergency campaign for donations to the fund,” Raisa said. She rose, fingering her ruined clothing. “All right. We’re all exhausted, and our problems will still be here tomorrow morning. I order you all to get some sleep.”

Overhead, the Southbridge Temple bells bonged out four a.m. Time to go home. Raisa had hoped that Han or Cat would have returned from across the river, but they hadn’t. She turned toward the door, and then remembered that she’d sent her carriage back to the castle hours ago.

“Would you share my carriage, Your Majesty?” Micah asked, materializing right behind her. “I had it sent it down from the stables in the castle close.”

“Well…” Raisa cast about for an alternative.

“Your guard can accompany us, but I would like to speak with you in private about some events earlier in the day.” When Raisa hesitated, Micah added, “Please, Raisa. It pertains to the fire investigation. There’s something I want to show you.”

Raisa studied him. Micah was intense, almost pleading, tight as a lutestring. Also battered and bruised and blistered despite the magical protections he’d used. Han said that Micah had voted against Lord Bayar’s proposal. Did Micah mean to confess his father’s role in the destruction of Ragmarket?

“All right,” Raisa said.

Motioning to her Gray Wolf guard, Raisa walked outside with Micah. A carriage with the Aerie House falcons emblazoned on the side waited in the temple close, the six black horses snorting and stamping, made nervous by the smell of smoke. Micah helped Raisa up into the carriage, spoke a few words to the driver, then squeezed in next to Raisa, though there was plenty of room on the seat across. Raisa was too weary to resist.

Two of Amon’s Wolves climbed atop the carriage, sharing the seat with the driver, while two more rode alongside.

Raisa settled back on the velvet cushions, wondering if she would ever get the stench of wood smoke out of her skin. “So,” she said. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Did you know that Alister got himself elected High Wizard at the council meeting today?” Micah said bluntly.

Raisa squinted at Micah. Han hadn’t mentioned that. “Seriously?” Even though she’d asked Han to stand for High Wizard, it was hard to imagine how he would have assembled the votes. “How did that happen? Who voted for him?”

“Abelard, of course.” Micah dabbed at a cut on his arm.

“But why wouldn’t Abelard claim the post herself if she had the votes?” Raisa asked.

“That’s a good question,” Micah said. “The surprise vote was Adam Gryphon’s. He voted for Alister.”

“Well. I guess they know each other from Oden’s Ford.” She looked up and found Micah’s black eyes riveted on her, and shut her mouth. In her exhausted state, she’d almost said too much. Micah didn’t know that she and Han had been together in Oden’s Ford. “I mean, wasn’t Master Gryphon your teacher?” she said.

“Yes,” Micah said, “he was. Which makes it even more surprising that he would vote for Alister. They were constantly at odds at school. Gryphon even expelled him from class.” His voice was low and hoarse from breathing in smoke. “Raisa, I don’t think you realize how ruthless your so-called bodyguard is.”

“Don’t patronize me!” Raisa snapped, her sympathy for Micah draining away. “I’m trying to rule over groups of squabbling people who can’t agree on the most inconsequential things.”

“If I come across as patronizing, I don’t mean to be,” Micah said. “But this is my point: Alister will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. He made that very clear at the meeting today.” He paused. “For example, my father accused Alister of being behind the Ragmarket murders. Alister denied it, of course.”

“Could it be because he’s innocent?” Raisa groped for a counteroffensive. “He told me what your father did—that he proposed destroying Ragmarket, and the council agreed. In other words, the council voted to murder hundreds of innocent people. To destroy people’s homes, their workplaces, to put the entire town at risk.”

“I suppose Alister didn’t mention that I voted against it.”

“As it happens, he
did
mention that,” Raisa said. “He said the two of you were the only ones.”

“Really?” Micah stared at her. “I’m surprised. Anyway, when Alister was elected High Wizard, he promised he’d handle the Ragmarket ‘project,’ as he called it.” He swallowed hard and looked up at her with hopeless eyes. “You have to believe me, Raisa. Even after the vote, I never meant to let it happen. I intended to come to you straight away. I had no idea he’d act so quickly.”

It took a moment for Raisa to understand what Micah was implying. And then another to conjure up a response. “Do you expect me to believe that after the council meeting, Han raced down the mountain and set fire to Ragmarket before you could intervene?”

Micah met her gaze unflinchingly. “I don’t expect you to believe it, no. But I have to try. It’s all I have.”

“Explain this to me, then,” Raisa said. “What is Han’s strategy? What does he hope to accomplish? You claim he’s murdering wizards. What is his motive?”

Micah shrugged. “Perhaps he intends to bring down the queendom—to incite us into a civil war. First Lord deVilliers is murdered by the Demonai, and then—”

“As I understand it, Lord deVilliers was kidnapping clan children,” Raisa said dryly.

“The copperhead story,” Micah said bitterly. “Why must you always believe the copperhead story?” He paused, and when Raisa said nothing, went on. “First deVilliers, and now Lord and Lady Gryphon. Alister knew there was no way the Gryphons would support a vote for a street thug. So he removes their influence, and—”

“Han Alister would never burn Ragmarket,” Raisa interrupted. “Anyway, he was there, fighting the fire, too. You saw him.”

“Just hear me out,” Micah said. He paused, collecting himself.

Maybe weariness had weakened Micah’s usual social shields, but Raisa had never seen him so emotionally wrought. His hands were actually shaking. He wasn’t telling the whole truth, but there was some elemental truth in what he was saying.

“As soon as Alister won his vote, he announced that his copperhead friend would replace him on the council. He said he’d talked it over with you, and you’d agreed. He had it in writing.” He looked at Raisa, his eyes brilliant with reproach.

“I did talk to Alister about it, and Fire Dancer is my choice,” Raisa said. “What of it?”

Micah fell silent, staring down at his hands, twisting his ring, the only sound the rattle of the wheels over stone, the murmur of conversation from overhead.

Finally, he looked up and said, “It seems that Fire Dancer is my half brother.”

Raisa felt like she’d been punched in the gut, all the breath driven out of her. “What?” she whispered, the word catching in her throat.

“Apparently his mother and my father had an encounter years ago,” Micah said. “They tell differing stories about how it happened—about who seduced whom.”

“Your father—and Willo?” Raisa shook her head. “No. That’s not possible.” Even as she said it, she knew it must be true—else Micah would never have brought it up.

“Fire Dancer and Alister have known it all along,” Micah said. “And chose to reveal it at the council meeting in order to discredit my father.” He reached out and brushed Raisa’s hair off her forehead. She was too stunned to resist. “Tell me, Raisa, if you trust Alister, why is it he is keeping so many secrets from you?”

That much is true, Raisa thought, unsettled. Han is keeping secrets from me. What else don’t I know?

“Anyway,” Micah continued, “as soon as the meeting was over, Alister disappeared. This is what I think. He raced down Gray Lady so he could reach town before I did. He wanted to set fire to Ragmarket before I could alert you in time to stop it. Then he made a show of helping to put the fire out when Ragmarket was nearly gone.”

“I don’t believe it,” Raisa said stubbornly. “I don’t care how many times you repeat it. It was his home. His friends live there.”

“And he did save some of their lives,” Micah said. “I’m not denying him that.”

The carriage slowed, then rattled to a stop as the driver reined in.

“My Lord Bayar!” the driver called down. “We’re here.”

Micah put his head out the window, took a long look, then settled back, allowing Raisa the view. “Speaking of Alister’s home, welcome to Pilfer Alley.”

Raisa leaned across Micah to look out. The cobbled alleyway was lined with warehouses, a little charred around the edges but all still standing. Familiar. A memory came back to her, of a night in a cellar, held captive by Cuffs Alister.

And there, over the door, was a scrawled symbol—a straight line with a zigzag over it. The same mark found on the bodies of the dead wizards.

“This is Alister’s hideout in Ragmarket,” Micah said. “An old warehouse where his streetrats congregate.” He looked Raisa in the eye. “The only street untouched by flame in all of Ragmarket. Interesting, wouldn’t you say?”