Making Peace Read online

  That got me. “Come again?”

  She smiled up at the ceiling, not seeing my look of disbelief. “They’re both really similar, and very kind. They both know a lot and want to take care of people. They both tell me I do a good job, or I can do better next time. It’s like… like a father would, I think.” She blushed suddenly and glanced at me before looking away, hands on her cheeks.

  I tried to swallow her image of Ugly, but it was sticking in my throat. I decided to just move on. “So where is he now, your master?”

  The blush faded and she turned more serious, lowering her hands to her lap. “We reached a point where I was having a lot of trouble moving on in my training. He wasn’t mad at me though, he said, ‘This is natural for someone with your level of trauma.’” She said this with a deeper voice, but not mocking in any way. She seemed to hold him in very high respect. “He said I needed to go out into the world, to find my reason for living, and what I’m good at. Not just with my Gift, but with other things. Like how I can help people. Things like that.”

  “Confidence?”

  She nodded. “I think so.” She bit her lower lip. “But I’m not having much luck so far. I joined the Keepers, that’s true. But I’ve been here for a year now and haven’t really done anything to help anyone. And I’m not any farther in my power than I was when I started.” She started to look sad again, like she had when talking about getting caught. I decided to change topics.

  “So how’d you get the leg? It’s pretty impressive.”

  That got her. She lit up and jumped to her feet, where she executed a little twirl. Her leg didn’t hamper her at all like I’d seen with other prosthetics. Indeed, it seemed to work exactly the same as her flesh leg.

  She stopped and clasped her hands behind her, still beaming. “My master helped me make this! He said a pretty girl should have two pretty legs. And watch!” She launched herself at the trunk sitting at the foot of her bed and hurled it open, whereupon she began to dig wildly through piles of clothes. She started pulling out shoes of every color and design imaginable. She plopped down on the bed and pulled a boot with a slight heel onto her flesh foot. Immediately, the scales on the bottom of her prosthetic foot shifted around, and when she stood up it was perfectly matched to the height of the boot. Seeing my surprised look, she repeated it with higher heels, flat shoes, working her way through a whole collection. I saw more shoes in the next ten minutes than I’ve owned in the whole of my life.

  Finally, I stood up, making a show of stretching my back. “Old bones don’t do well keeping company with a wooden chair for so long,” I said. She laughed, which was nice, because I’d only been half kidding. “Thanks for the honesty, Vapor.”

  She grinned and started putting all her shoes back into the trunk. She must have had one hell of a system, because I didn’t see how so many could fit into less than three trunks.

  “Any time, Bel,” she said. “It was fun. Thanks.”

  I took my leave and headed back to my own room.

  I shut my door and then yawned, the sound echoing around my small bedroom. I stretched my arms up over my head for good measure. The day had taken more out of me than I’d realized, and I was just now starting to feel the fatigue.

  Someone had left a candle burning on the desk beside my bed. Whoever left the candle, probably Cora the housekeeper, had moved my papers carefully aside to prevent unfortunate wax spillage. My small bedside table rested between the bed and the wall, with a window beside my bed, looking out onto a side yard where workers were bringing in stock for the kitchen. I hadn’t decorated the room since it was temporary lodging for the duration of the job. Other than these bits of furniture, the room was bare white walls and scrubbed wooden floors. Everything was wood in that city.

  I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t. Despite my relatively lighthearted interview session with Vapor, the murder scene at the First House was fresh in my mind. I didn’t think it would ever be stale in my mind, in point of fact. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’d been sheltered from such scenes, and to face such grim horror was a startling experience.

  I wanted to eat, but I had no appetite. Someone had left biscuits and cheese on my desk for me, along with a bottle of cold water. I watched drops of condensation race each other down from the top of the bottle, exploding into the pool collecting at the base.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  Just like blood dripping off a table.

  I remembered the crime scene. “Blood isn’t dripping anymore, and it’s tacky,” Ugly had said, so detached and matter-of-fact. “Probably been at least a few hours, but not more than four.” How did a person get like that? What sort of life leads a man to remark on a young pregnant woman’s blood dripping from a table as calmly as if he were discussing business?

  I vomited into my chamber pot. Twice. Then I fell into a red sleep, and dreamed too much.

  CHAPTER 8

  THREE DAYS LATER, I found myself out on patrol in the middle market with Ugly, Shield, Vapor, and Tavel. They had been ordered to keep a close eye on some of the Second House members and their servants who were shopping for fabric. Collapsible booths and tents were everywhere, and the market swelled around us. Hawkers called out loudly, hoisting their merchandise into the air. A huge bubbling fountain took up the middle of the cobblestone square. The figure in the center of the fountain was a stone carving of a woman with hazy features. She was dressed in a draping shawl and robe, eyes lifted toward the horizon. When I asked, Tavel told me this was an image of the Seer, the local Saint who had helped found the original colony centuries ago.

  There had been no progress on the murder. No one in the House had seen anyone enter or leave the room. As the servant girl had told us, no guests had been present. The Hegemon was furious, but there was nothing the cell could do at this point. Captain had directed everyone to keep their eyes peeled.

  Shield stopped in the middle of the pathway, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. “I need to take a break.” She moved over to lean against a half wall in the shade of a tree. Ugly joined her and leaned against the wall beside her. I hopped up and sat on the bench above and behind them, further in the shade. My feet had not got used to the new combat boots yet, and the rough leather chafed against my skin. I peeled off the boots and stretched my toes, groaning.

  The sound of children laughing drifted to us, and Vapor turned to look across the square toward the fountain. She turned back. “I’m gonna head over there and get some ice cream. Anyone else?” Everyone shook their heads except Tavel, who grinned and nodded. The two of them headed off toward the ice cream vendor around the other side of the fountain.

  Shield nodded her head at Tavel’s retreating back. “How’s he doing with seeing that murder scene?”

  Ugly was quiet for a moment. “Better. It wasn’t an easy thing to see, especially for his first time processing a murder victim.”

  They went silent, watching the crowds. Across the square, Vapor and Tavel had got their ice cream and were sitting on the edge of the large fountain. Tavel said something which caused Vapor to giggle. She reached out a hand and gestured at him without touching the water. Water from the fountain splashed over him and he yelped, which turned to laughter. Vapor giggled even harder, nearly falling into the fountain herself.

  Shield and Ugly both smiled. They watched in silence for a bit. Then Ugly spoke, his voice low. “It’s good to see her act like a kid for a change.”

  Shield’s smile dimmed for a moment, but she caught it and kept the practiced smile in place. “It is. She’s so serious. A lot of children her age are hardened now. The galaxy seems eager to crush innocence. But it’s good to see kids act like kids again. I’ve missed it.”

  Ugly took a long while to answer. I thought he might not. Then: “So have I.” There was a strange note in his voice, sad. I glanced at him to see him still watching Vapor.

  The two of them continued watching the young people laughing across the square. Shield sighed and slid over a tiny bit, leaning her hip against his. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t move away. Neither did she.

  I wondered if maybe they had forgotten I was there.

  Ugly turned his head and spoke over his shoulder. “If you mention this, scribbler, I’ll end you.”

  Shield laughed.

  Vapor walked back to us, fast enough to that it caught our attention. Ugly straightened up. So did Shield, a second later. Vapor stepped in close. “There’s a group in dark plainclothes over there, dressed and armed the same as the group we fought in that alley the other day, on the other side of the fountain. They’ve been watching the Second House members. Both groups just took off down the street. Not fast. We can catch up.”

  We all hustled across the square to reach Tavel, who was following the two groups at a distance. I fell behind the Keepers because I was hopping to get my boots back on.

  The armed men in dark plainclothes were following three well-dressed couples and their servants. The plainclothes men were several dozen yards away from their prey but were closing the distance. We hurried, closing our own distance to the armed group. They hadn’t noticed us yet, which meant they had set no rear guard. From having worked with the Keepers I recognized this meant the group we pursued likely had sloppy discipline.

  We reached a narrow point in the street. Way out ahead in the road, two armed men pushed a cart out into the street and blocked the way. The couples and their servants stopped abruptly, milling about in confusion. The group behind them continued closing the distance, drawing their weapons. I could see what was coming.

  To my right, Shield drew her mace and kite shield, rolling her shoulders as she quickened her pace. To my left, Tavel drew his hand and a half sword, letting it rest behind him like a tail. Behind these two,
Vapor clutched her staff and popped out the retractable blade at the bottom. I had refused to arm myself, thinking myself merely an observer. I regretted that choice now, heading into what was likely to be a nasty confrontation. Buildings loomed over us on both sides in the narrow street. Our heels clicked on the cobblestones, the sound echoing off the high walls.

  Ugly drew no weapon and just continued running, putting on more speed. The padded boots he wore made no sound as he ran. He motioned for us to fall back a bit, which we did. I expected him to attack the rearmost man, but he did not. Ugly blazed past the armed man in total silence, causing the guy to pull up short in confusion. Ugly continued through the group in a matter of seconds, causing the same jumpy reaction in each one he passed, until he reached their leader. He tapped the blond man on the shoulder. Their leader stumbled and spun around, startled.

  We were close enough now to see Ugly grin. “Plain daylight? Really?” Ugly’s hand darted to the dagger at his hip. In a flash he drew the dagger and plunged it into the blond leader’s chest. He pulled it out and stabbed again. He repeated the moves in rapid fire, stab-stab-stab-stab-stab. On the last stab, I heard the blade thunk solidly into bone. Ugly left the dagger there, kicked the dying leader away from him, and drew the short swords sheathed in a harness across his own chest.

  The plainclothes men were clearly undertrained but not as undisciplined as I had hoped. By the second stab they had raised their weapons. Half of them moved in on Ugly. The second half finally noticed the Keepers coming and turned just in time to clash.

  Shield caught a blow on her shield and turned it aside. Vapor moved in behind her, sheltering in her safety. Vapor drove her bladed staff over the top of the shield, stabbing the man in the center of his chest. He gasped and fell to one knee. His allies moved into the gap.

  Tavel raced past the battle, heading for the front where the two armed men were advancing on the three couples. Their servants bolted to one side of the street and were ignored by the ambushers. An attacker with a shock of red hair poking out from under a small black cap stepped toward the couples. He raised his blade to cut down an unarmed nobleman in a frilly green outfit who was shielding his female companion with his own body.

  Tavel hurled his hand and a half sword. It tumbled end over end and buried itself in the red-haired man’s chest. The attacker made a terrible gurgling sound and flung his hands out wide, looking almost comically surprised. Tavel hurled himself shoulder-first into the second man, bowling him over.

  “Are you waiting for an invitation to another event? Get out of here!” Tavel shouted at the nobles. They shook themselves out of their daze and rushed toward the cart blocking their exit. When they reached it they began climbing, but were hampered by their heavy clothes.

  Four men had closed in on Shield and Vapor. One attacker smashed his axe down and it rang off of Shield’s kite shield. She parried a second simultaneous attack from her right with her mace. The blade slid down the haft and scraped her gauntleted fingers. Blocking both attacks left her vulnerable, and a third man stepped in and kicked her directly in the stomach. She folded up, flew backward, and hit the road hard.

  Vapor dodged Shield’s flying body but found herself surrounded by the enemies. She whirled, both sides of her staff flashing out to catch incoming attacks. She had no time to cast or attack and was barely holding up her defense.

  Ugly was having no such problem. His blade flashed out, hacking open one man’s throat. He turned toward the next enemy as blood from the first opponent’s severed jugular fountained over Ugly’s bald head. The next attacker, a young man, swung his broadsword, which Ugly deflected downward. Ugly chopped down with his second blade, severing the young man’s arm at the elbow. Ugly stepped in and drove his first blade into his foe’s stomach and wrenched it to the side, spilling intestines into the street.

  Tavel was wrestling in the street with the remaining cart ambusher, an older man with gray hair. He flipped the older man off him, rolling on top of his enemy and straddling him. Tavel punched his older opponent in the face again and again. When the man went limp, Tavel stopped. Tavel leapt up, rushed over to his sword, wrenched it free from the corpse, and charged back to the main melee.

  Vapor’s foes were wearing her down with attacks from all sides. She was blocking the killing blows, but her arms and legs already bore multiple cuts. With a roar, Shield threw herself back in front of Vapor. Several hits clanked off Shield’s plate armor, but none penetrated. She smashed away with both mace and shield, beating her enemies back from Vapor through sheer brute force. I could see Shield’s face, usually poised and gentle, now snarling with her lips drawn back over her teeth. The pointed bottom of her shield caught a man in the face, shattering his jaw and dropping him. Her mace broke ribs and shoulders on two other attackers.

  Shield bought enough time for Vapor to summon her Gift. Spikes of ice sprouted from Shield’s kite shield, and skewered men when she bashed them. Two foes hissed and dropped their suddenly frost-rimed swords. The disarmed attackers’ palms bore mottled white and purple burns in the shape of a sword hilt. A large attacker stepped in to bring his axe blade down onto the back of Shield’s neck. Vapor spread her fingers and swiped her hand horizontally at the axe man’s feet. A new ice patch glinted under his boots. Because of his splayed stance and the way he was twisting with his swing, his feet slipped out from under him. His axe crunched into the face of another man Shield had just disarmed.

  The thunder of booted feet echoed up the street behind us, and I turned to see who it was. More plainclothes men approached with their weapons drawn. They lunged at us, swinging. I began dodging blades, heading for Shield to get some cover and protection. Vapor saw my plight and tried to head my way, but she was cut off.

  Tavel slid to a halt in front of me. He wove a dance of death, whirling all around me, and cut down three men in the space of five seconds.

  I saw a black-haired man stalking me. His eyes glinted with calculation but he stayed cautious, waiting for an opening. I tried to back toward Tavel, but he was being edged away from me by the sheer crush of bodies. The black-haired man angled his way in. I backed up until I hit a wall. Bodies lay all around me. I was tremendously regretting my choice not to arm myself. The man laughed as he stepped toward me.

  My eye caught the hilt of a sword sticking out from under one of the bodies. My eyes darted back and forth between the man and the sword. He saw what I was looking at, took a glance at my fancy clothes and complete lack of weapons on my person, and he laughed again.

  I made my move. The wire-wrapped hilt dug into the soft flesh of my palm. I barely got the longsword up in time to deflect the first attack. The black-haired man was not coming at me with ferocity, but rather seemed to be toying with me. He clanged our swords, nearly knocking mine from my grasp.

  He shook his head and took a more aggressive stance, and I realized he was done playing. He came at me hard. My back hit the wall and I slid down. He lunged in to strike, his blade aimed at my heart.

  Tavel appeared from the crush of bodies and cut across the backs of my would-be-killer’s thighs. The black-haired man screamed and crumpled over top of me as he fell forward with the momentum from his lunge. His sword strike went just over my shoulder, snapping the tip off the blade and skidding against the brick wall.

  He fell on me and smashed me against the wall. I expected the black-haired man to rise, but he did not. My hands ached. I tried to shove him off me, and was shocked when he didn’t roll easily. My hands were clenched around my sword’s hilt, and the blade… projected from the black-haired man’s back. The full length. He wasn’t moving because I had killed him.

  I let go of the sword and used all my strength to shove his corpse off me. I think I screamed. I crawled away until I could get my feet under me, then scurried into someone’s entryway, leaning my back against the front door. Remembering my companions, I took a quick look around.