The Stars Askew (48 page)

“Persistent little mouse, wasn't she?” Alfadi spoke with the familiarity of an old friend. “Uncovering our plan to buy a force of thaumaturgists with the prism—you'd be surprised at how many of them leaped to my side at the first mention of it. Allying herself with the Brotherhood of the Hand. Discovering we were stealing money from the Marin coffers to raise Dumas's little gladiator army—what a
persistent little mouse
. And persistent mice must be trapped.”

Kata walked over the stone floor and about halfway to the desk, the other two following right beside her. She knew they should turn and run, if they could, but neither Max nor Rikard were the running kind, and she still hoped to save Henri, even despite himself. A thought flickered across her mind: something was wrong. She had forgotten something about the room.
It has changed since our first visit, but how?

Putting the thought aside, Kata lashed out at Alfadi, hoping to hurt him. “But you failed in the end, didn't you? I mean, here we are. We discovered you. We've outsmarted you. You, who thinks he's so clever.”

Alfadi's face darkened, and he gestured angrily for them to come closer. “Oh, I knew all about you seditionists. When I took Aceline's memories, I found out all about you, Kata. You were friends, weren't you, before I killed her? But you didn't know the depth of her friendship, did you? Yes, I can see it in the way your face changes. You were friends with Thom, too. You know the best part of it? Thom led me straight to the book. We wouldn't have known about it without him and his clumsy researches. And now it's all the way in Varenis, safely in the hands of our allies. At least Thom struggled in his last moments, though he didn't pose much of a problem. But you're right, Kata. No one did as well as you. Outfoxing me in the factory. You really are something.”

Kata remembered the look around the shapeshifter's eyes in the factory. Yes, there had been something strange about them: they had seemed dark somehow. Overcompensation for Alfadi's white eyes, or consequence of thaumaturgy? “You won't succeed, you know. Not in the long run.”

Alfadi beamed. “Well, we'll start with the short term, then, shall we? We can't wait for Armand to return. I mean, who knows what you've told people. My associates and I will have to act now. In which case, shall we make a deal? You can stay here as my guests until after the Twilight Observance. Our vigilant friend Ejan will crush the moderates, and wear out his own forces in the process. Then we'll arrange a new power, and all you seditionists will be back in prison where you belong. Except the three of you, of course. You will be free to go.”

The best thing to do would be to run. Kata readied herself to burst into motion when the memory struck her like a blow. She took a step back, still looking at the ground beneath her feet. The last time they had been in this room, the floor was not made of stone; it had been translucent, a creature floating beneath it—a leviathan with a thousand eyes. She knew instantly that the stone was simply a thaumaturgical illusion.

She took another step back and said the first thing that came to mind. “Max, Rikard, come back over here. Let us discuss for a moment.”

Alfadi smiled, and his hand moved imperceptibly. The stone flashed out of existence. Once more it was translucent. A chasm opened beneath the two men as an entire section of floor disappeared. Kata grabbed Rikard by the arm just as he went into the water. There was no hope for Max, though. He crashed into the center of the pool.

Kata herself teetered on the edge of the tank as Rikard thrashed in the water. Still grasping her arm, he scrambled up.

From the depths below something massive rose: a creature like a giant jellyfish, with a hundred tentacles propelling it. A dense multitude of eyes roved and swirled with alien intelligence. Max had no chance of reaching the edge before the creature was on him. But he made a couple of quick gestures, and a second later he simply disappeared. Where once he splashed and kicked toward the side, now he was gone, leaving behind only swirling water. Kata hoped the illusion would save him.

Kata and Rikard scrambled away from the edge of the pool, but already Alfadi was upon them, blocking off their retreat. The thaumaturgist's glowing hand clamped onto Rikard's face, and the young man screamed. A stench of burning flesh filled the air.

Behind them, the leviathan burst from the water, its two longest tentacles whipping out, their flat stingers reaching for meat. Maximilian was somewhere beneath it, hiding himself, invisible. Kata had to help him, so she twisted, spun one of her knives toward the creature's evil and intelligent eyes. The dagger plunged deep, just as the leviathan fixed a hundred more eyes onto her. The monster thrashed in rage.

Kata heard a thump and a crack as Rikard went down. Instinctively, she spun to the side, but Alfadi was already on her. He reached for her throat with a glowing hand. His eyes shone with an impossible darkness, a thaumaturgical fire.

She took a step diagonally backward and deflected the arm. Again the thaumaturgist lunged at her, and again she took a step back and to the side. This time she struck out with her open hand and caught the man in the ribs. She knew if she caused him enough pain, he would not be able to maintain his thaumaturgical equations.

He gasped and swung at her, but she skipped backward, sideways, and leaped into the air just as the leviathan's tentacle whipped beneath her legs. Now she was fighting two foes: one in front of her, one behind. Rikard lay motionless on the ground, no help at all.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a hundred shorter tentacles undulating toward her, reaching, yearning, hoping to drag her into the creature's deadly embrace. Again the longer tentacle lashed. This time it came at waist height, hoping to strike her body. She rolled beneath it, felt air being displaced as it whipped through the empty space above her.

She came to her feet in a single motion and launched her other knife at Alfadi. The thaumaturgist waved his hand, and the whirling weapon spun off to one side, as if it had hit some invisible shield. Alfadi stood still, both hands like burning coals, waiting for her to take a step out of the range of the leviathan.

Kata knew she was finished, caught between the two monsters. She dashed forward and to her left. Alfadi's hand shot out at her. She raised her arm to block it, but this time he caught her arm. She lost her momentum, fell to one knee, and screamed. Her forearm burned as if a bracelet of molten metal was clasped around it. Alfadi's other hand reached toward her face. She caught Alfadi's forearm in turn, halting his palm just before it seared her skin. She felt the heat, a little furnace close to her cheek.

Though she was quicker than Alfadi, he was the stronger of the two, and now he had the advantage. She leaned back to avoid the searing hand, but that brought her closer to the swinging tentacle behind her. At any moment either Alfadi's blazing palm would clamp her face or the tentacle behind her would whip around her leg and drag her into the pool. Hope was gone, replaced by despair.

Alfadi suddenly screamed. His hand dropped from her face. He looked down at his foot, where a sharp little gladiator sword—like a long piercing needle—had been driven between the bones. Henri scuttled away like a crab.

In an instant Kata grasped Alfadi's right wrist, which still held her burning forearm. Dropping to her back, she pulled the thaumaturgist toward her. He lurched forward. His great bulk connected with the soles of her feet, which were now pointing toward the sky. With a rapid kick, she threw him over her head.

She heard a terrible scream. By the time she hopped to her feet, Alfadi was already wrapped in a dozen tentacles, constricting around him like a writhing mass of pythons.

Kata scrabbled back as the leviathan slid its slippery and immense bulk into the water. Alfadi struggled in the monster's powerful tentacles as it descended into the depths, still looking at her with those terrifying alien eyes.

On the far side of the room, a soaked Maximilian hauled himself out of the tank, heaving and gasping.

Kata couldn't think of anything to say to the wide-eyed and staring Henri. Eventually she just stepped across to him and pulled his awkward body to her. Relief and love flooded through her. The little boy was alive, and he had saved her, just as she had wanted to save him.
He's so smart,
she thought.

“I couldn't get away,” he said. “So I had to pretend I liked it here. He was going to kill me.”

Rikard was unconscious, one side of his face burned black and red. His eye was closed over, or burned away—she couldn't tell. His body heaved for air.

“Come on, Maximilian. We have to get him to the Opera. We can't be sure if we're safe here, so we'll return the way we came. Who knows how many of these thaumaturgists were in Alfadi's employ? Perhaps all of them.”

“We can't take him to the Opera. Ejan will have us arrested,” said Max. “From what Alfadi said, he, Dumas, and Ejan formed a triumvirate.”

“Rikard is my friend.” Kata's voice was certain, angry. “There will be healers at the Opera who might save him, so that's where we're taking him.”

They lifted Rikard over Maximilian's shoulder and headed to the secret door, which still hung open in the wall behind them.

*   *   *

Black-suited vigilants helped them carry Rikard through the Opera and deep into the vigilant wing. The place was quiet for once, for the action was about to begin at Technis Palace. They carried Rikard into Ejan's office, placed him gently on the table, and lit the fire for warmth. Kata had already told Henri in no uncertain terms to go home, and the boy had simply said, “Yes.”

In the office, Ejan peered at the dying Rikard and turned to Kata coldly. “What have you done to him?”

Kata crossed her arms belligerently. “This is
your
fault.”

Two apothecaries rushed in and quickly began to apply balms and some kind of thaumaturgical reparative. “Not even a Sortilege could save him,” one of them remarked.

When they were done, Kata held out her own arm, which they treated and wrapped. She expected the vigilants to arrest her at any moment. She looked at Ejan again, prepared herself for a confrontation. She might still kill him: she judged the distance between them.
Yes,
she thought.
He's not too far.
His thuggish bodyguard Oskar stood in the corner of the room, but he wouldn't have time to react to Kata's first blows.

But before they could break into even greater hostilities, Kata looked up to see Dexion striding through the door. She immediately felt safer. Around him, twenty or so globes from the entry hall burned a steady orange. He flapped his arm at them, and they scattered.

“Kata, thank the gods, I found you here,” said the minotaur. “I've been at the Arena with the other gladiators, preparing for the final spectacular. A message came from the Marin Palace about a half hour ago. All work stopped, and those asleep were awakened. Dumas is mobilizing the gladiators. They're heading for all the strategic points of the city. From what I can tell, the Collegia are moving against the seditionists. A counterrevolution has begun.”

Silence reigned for a moment. Kata dropped her head despairingly. It was all over now, the city's hopes and dreams in ruin. She turned to Ejan. “So, you've succeeded. You and your friends can now divide up the city.”

Ejan looked at her blankly. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I'm talking about: Alfadi. The Collegia. You. You met with Dumas the other day, and you've refused to move against him. You placed the corrupt Georges in charge of the Criminal Tribunal. You tried to kill Maximilian. But this time you'll succeed—there's no one to stop you now.”

To Kata's shock, the man grinned in disbelief. It was such an incongruous expression, she was taken aback. Even his tone had changed when he next spoke. “Kata, we may disagree on certain things, but I'm not interested in ruling the city—I never have been. I know nothing of Alfadi or Dumas's conspiracy. All I wanted was to maintain order, to defeat our enemies by any means at our disposal”

“Liar.” Kata was filled with doubt. Had she misread his motives and intentions? She thought now of Rikard's denials, and how certain her friend had been that her accusations were unfounded. “You were about to attack us in the Technis Palace.”

“Because you had attacked the popular power. You had killed vigilant guards and undermined the decisions of the tribunal. It was
you
who were setting yourself up as a dictator,
you
who defied the elected representatives of the Insurgent Authority. Where was your democracy then?”

Kata stood silent, dumbfounded. Only the crackling of the fire disturbed the silence.

Ejan turned quickly and opened a locked chest behind his desk. She half expected him to unveil a bolt-thrower and shoot her down, but instead he held up a folder containing a thick wad of papers. “Kata, here is your file from House Technis, containing the entirety of your history before the overthrow. Take it.”

Kata reeled but took the file. “Why didn't you use it against me?”

Ejan's face regained its steely composure. “I knew you had changed. You were a seditionist. Rikard vouched for you, and I trusted him. Discrediting you would have brought no victory to me or to the movement. We fight for principles, not people. I didn't want to defeat you; I wanted to defeat your ideas.”

Kata leaned against the table next to Rikard. She felt as if her legs might give way. She had been willing to believe that Ejan was a part of the conspiracy because she hadn't trusted him. She'd judged him before she had any right to. And he had stuck to his principles, even if they were crude and cold in her eyes.

“I've been so wrong. I've made so many mistakes,” she said.

Ejan nodded. “We all do, you know. I should have moved against Dumas as you suggested. Now he moves against us.”