In Her Shadow (13 page)

And then the urge to cry left him. When was the last time he'd held her like this? Before the plague that took her mother, and almost her.

"Daddy," she said against his chest, "I can't breathe."

Lucius let her go. She pulled away from him, mock coughing and choking. "That's my little ham," he said. "Get in bed."

She crawled down off him and into her cot as he rose to leave.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "You should go to bed too."

"If you don't want me to work all night, you should stop giving me ideas." He closed the door behind him, and from the other side listened to Ava giggle herself to sleep.

No one was home. Or, rather, everyone was home and they were ignoring him like every other time he'd attempted to deliver his message. This time, however, the Dux had told Valex not to take "no" for an answer. That's exactly what he intended to do. Not do? Valex shook his head. The front door was a no go; barred from the inside. The tower had windows, but too high to climb safely. And anyway, they were all shuttered.

He paced around the building, looking it up and down for any opening that might give him access. The only possible ingress was a chimney jutting from the abbey's ground floor. The kitchen, Valex suspected. To feed the cloister, the kitchen had to be fairly large. Therefor the stove had to be large. Therefor the chimney had to be large. Climbing the main building would be no problem, so long as the abbey's crumbling architecture held.

"Tricky," he said to himself as he found a handhold on the wall where a piece of siding had rotted through. He put a foot into another, similar hole. The wood gave a squishy crunch. "I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die," he said, scrambling up the wall in the hopes he could out run the rot. When he made it to the top, huffing and sweating, he thought about resting on his back for a moment, but the roof didn't look any safer than the siding. Instead, Valex girded himself for further danger, then skittered across the roof until he was at the chimney. The shingles slipped beneath his feet, and he felt the roof below him give with every step. When he made it to the chimney, he slung his arms around it as far as they'd go. He clung to it like his mother's leg while he caught his breath and waited for his heart to stop pounding. At least this one thing seemed stable, he thought, until he felt a brick shift.

An impolite word he'd learned from a life among soldiers escaped his lips. It was fear, yes, but the healthy sort. The kind of fear that kept you aware – and alive – without mind clouding panic. He had to get off this roof before a hole opened up and swallowed him.

Valex scurried up the chimney until he sat atop it, legs dangling over into the opening. The bricks were cool, if shifty, and no smoke rose from the darkness below. Unless it narrowed near the bottom, or there was a grate in the way, he would fit just fine. Without stopping to think about it, he slipped inside. With his back against one side, his feet against the other, and using his arms for added stability, he carefully wormed down the pipe. The ancient ash choked him, made his eyes water, and his nose itch. A moment of clarity hit him halfway down, and he realized what an insane thing he was doing. If he got stuck, or someone lit a fire below him, he would die. But he sucked it up. Kids younger than him did this for a living. He kept going.

When he saw light below him, he slowed his descent, trying to be silent. Not that it mattered at this point. If anyone were in the kitchen, they would have noticed all the debris he'd knocked loose. Better be careful anyway, he told himself as he slid down the last few yards. He dangled for a moment, feet first, holding himself up by the arms before thumping into the wide fireplace below.

He hunched over, peeking into the kitchen. It was quiet. Nothing moved. Sure there was no one inside, he slipped out, standing on the hearth of the fireplace.

Someone shrieked. As Valex spun to face the sound, a mass of broom straw slapped him in the face, poofing out a cloud of ash from the coal he'd spent the last few minutes bathing in. He stumbled backwards, blinded as he whipped his arms in front him in an attempt to fend off the assault. His left foot caught on his right. He fell backwards, sprawling on his back, arms played. Someone jumped atop him, pinning him to the ground with their knees on his shoulders.

"Why are you here?" asked the distinctly young, female voice.

"I can't see," said Valex. "I can't see!"

"Why are you here?"

Valex squirmed. "Get off me and I'll tell you!"

"Why are you here?"

"At least wipe my eyes! Get off! I won't hurt you."

"You're a soldier! Why are you here?"

"Get off!"

Valex heaved with every bit of strength he could muster. He rolled to the side, tossing the girl on him in the opposite direction. Instead of standing, though, he threw his back against a nearby cabinet, wiping his eyes best he could with his sooty tunic. He heard the girl grab up the broom. She loomed over him as she raised it to strike. Valex threw up his hand, wiping his stinging eyes clean with the free hand. "Wait! Wait! Just – just give me a moment."

The girl didn't hit him again. Now would be the perfect opportunity to strike back, if he were that sort of person. He wasn't. He had no interest in a fight. All Valex cared about was delivering the message he carried.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to deliver a message to the Abbess of Night from the Dux."

"She's not interested in anything he has to say."

"I know. But this is important. I. . ." As the blur in his eyes faded, his breath caught at the sight of the girl standing over him. She was tall, thin, scrawny even, with straw blonde hair and bright green eyes. A year or two older, and an inch or two taller, she stood, broom cocked over her shoulder ready to swing. Valex's heart jerked. His tongue wouldn't work like he wanted it too, and all the words in his mouth fled him. He'd been battles before, just risked his life to get inside this crumbling abbey, and he'd never been so terrified as now – of this girl. Not her, specifically, but what should happen if he said the wrong thing to her. What if she didn't like him? Sweating. Was he sweating?

"I– I–"

"Spit it out," she said.

Valex's thoughts snapped back to the matter at hand. This was important enough Captain Marcus had quietly taken him aside and threatened to beat him if Dux Lucius's message didn't make it to the Abbess. And that's what Valex told the girl.

"What does it say?" she asked.

"I don't know. I didn't read it."

She cocked an eyebrow. Of course he'd read it. With all that had happened the last few days, Valex knew the contents of the message would be too juicy not to read. The problem was that the girl saw right through his lie – right through him.

"Okay," he said, "maybe I read a little bit of it."

"What's it say that's so important you felt the need to sneak in here to deliver it?"

"Why don't you read it for yourself?"

"Maybe I should, since everyone else is doing it apparently."

Valex struggled to his feet, using the counter as balance. He dug around in his messenger belt and pulled out the folded up piece of parchment. "I'll let you," he said, "if you can help me get it to her."

"You're not going anywhere in this abbey except back out the way you came." The girl shifted on her feet. "I mean, out the front door."

"Right. Okay. Look. I can't do that. The Abbess has to see this letter. I'll fight you if I have to."

The girl cocked her eyebrow again. She set the broom down beside her. "Really?" she said. "You'd really fight me?"

Valex's heart jerked again. By disarming herself, she'd disarmed him too. He sighed. "No. But this is important, it really is – Not for the Dux but for your Abbess."

"I don't know why I should."

Valex held the letter out to her. She took it, unfolded it, and scanned the words. She folded the letter back up and stuffed it into the belt cinched around her waist. "I'll give it to her personally."

"You can do that?"

"Yes," said the girl. "I'm her heiress and handmaid. I am the New Moon."

Valex's mouth bobbed. Before he could say anything, the sounds of shuffling and women chattering came from outside the kitchen. The New Moon grabbed Valex's hand and pulled him towards a nearby wall. She slid a panel in the wall open and stepped through, Valex in tow. She's holding my hand, she's holding my hand was all he could think as she led him through a passage that deposited them out another hidden panel in the yard behind the abbey.

"Wow," he said. "Neat."

"Forget you ever saw it," she said. She turned from him and started back inside.

"Uh–"

She stopped. "Yes?"

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he said.

The New Moon's expression was as inscrutable as the Dux's. "You'd better go before anyone notices you. I'll get your letter to the Abbess."

"Thank you."

"Go," she said.

And he went.

Britta wasn't sure what to do. They had business to attend to, but if she could stand over him all night, watching him and his little girl cuddled together on the bed, she would. Dux Lucius rolled slightly, shifted in his spot. Britta stepped silently backwards into the shadows.

"I know you're there," said Dux Lucius without opening his eyes. He yawned as he gently rolled Ava away from him.

"I am," said Britta.

"You got my letter."

"I did."

Lucius sat up in bed, exposing his bare chest to her. Britta should have known he'd be muscular, but seeing it with her own eyes beat anything she imagined. Thankful for the shadows surrounding her, she blushed.

"We shouldn't have this conversation here," he said.

"Of course not. The roof then?"

"Cold out?"

Afraid he'd put on a shirt, Britta said, "Mild. Comfortable." A bit of a fib, but a tough guy like Lucius could handle it. Much to her annoyance, he reached for a tunic anyway. He slid it over his head, then went for his boots. Without any more conversation, they slipped out of the officer's bunk, past the sleeping men in the bunks outside the room, and up the stairs that lead to the roof of the garrison.

"I came to thank you," said Britta as they emerged into the open air.

"Don't thank me. Thank the empire for keeping good records. Finding the woman taken from the steps of the abbey at the very end of The Siege was fairly easy."

"Weboshi told you the details?"

"Yes. Britta, I can't promise your mother is alive, or that the trail doesn't go cold after the ship carrying her arrived at its destination but. . ."

"It's enough. It's a start. But why, Lucius?"

"Why what? Why help you find your mother? I know you feel like I betrayed you when I didn't stand up to my father–"

"Because you didn't."

"I was playing a long con." Lucius sighed and looked up at the stars. "I couldn't come out and accuse him of anything until I had absolute proof."

"And do you have that proof yet?"

Lucius flexed his jaw.

"That's a no. So Weboshi's head still ends up on a chopping block. Your father still accuses the abbey of having a hand in everything that's happened. Our authority still gets undermined. The people of Ankshara – my people – still suffer."

"Britta–"

"No, Lucius, you listen to me. The strike continues. The interdict continues. Finding my mother was very kind of you, but it isn't enough to turn me back from my purpose. It isn't enough to make up for what's happened to this city or its citizens. The wedding is off – there will be no peace. Yes, the native Anksharans will lose, but we'll go down fighting the best way we can."

"Let me ask you something," he said. "Why haven't you rescued Weboshi yet?"

Britta cocked her head. A good question, one that she'd avoided asking herself. "I don't have the means."

"Of course you do. We've long suspected the city was infested with secret passages. Valex partially confirmed it the other day when visiting your abbey, and you confirmed it tonight by sneaking into what's supposed to be the single most secure place in all of Ankshara. Hell, we Regnals built it ourselves. How did you get secret passages installed?"

She started to make an excuse, but Lucius waved a hand to cut her off. "I imagine our cellars and dungeons are shot through with secret passages. So why didn't you take advantage of that when you had the chance?"

Britta backed away from him. She leaned against the crenelation as she thought about what to say and how to say it. The truth was, she didn't have a good answer. "I don't know," she said.

"You don't know, or you do know and you can't admit it?"

Britta's heart hammered against her ribs. Her knees wobbled.

"Don't look so nervous," he said, "or guilty. Just tell me."

"I – I had faith in you." She slowly rose her gaze to meet his. There was strength in his eyes, and that gave her strength too. "I have faith in you. I didn't want to admit to myself, because I was so angry, but there was a part of me undeniably convinced you'd do the right thing in the end. It was just such a small voice inside me, it was nearly drowned out by the rage."

Lucius took a step towards her. "Do you still think I'll do the right thing in the end?"

"Yes," she said, her voice tremulous.

He took another step, so near now she could feel the heat of him. "Do you still have faith in me?"

"Yes."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Britta. I wish opportunity had allowed me to explain myself. I wish there'd been time. I had to act quickly, and within the limits of my legal authority, to save Weboshi."

Britta, pressed the palm of her hand against his shirt, felt the hardness beneath. His heart thundered inside him too. "I know," she said. "I'm sorry for getting so angry. I don't want to punish you. I did at first, but not now. Your father though. . ."

"I know," he said. "We'll stop him."

"How?"

They were so close now. When had they leaned into each other? Their lips brushed.

"I don't know," said Lucius.

Lucius wrapped his arms around her, held her against him. She shuddered, not from the chill but the feel of his chest against hers. The words he'd said were the wrong ones, but her body didn't mind. The uncertainty of the situation didn't slow her rushing thoughts. Their lips brushed again. Then met. Then held. He squeezed and she squeezed, as if they could embrace into one person. When they pulled back to breathe, the world spun around her.

"This is a mistake," said Lucius. "We're setting ourselves up for a lot of pain if we do this and the marriage is off."

"Do what?" she said. She gave him a gentle push back as she smirked. "I'm not doing anything untoward until we're married."

"So the marriage is back on?"

"I don't want to discuss it," she said. "I don't want to talk about politics, or leadership. I don't want to think about the future. I just want to be up here, alone with you for a while. Can we just do that?"

Lucius smiled.

"What's that?" she said, running a finger across his lips.

"What?"

"That thing you did with your mouth."

Lucius chuckled. "Come on, you've seen me smile before. Laugh at least."

"Once. Maybe. You don't do it enough."

"I'm trying to get better."

Britta wrapped her arms around him. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the thump-thumps of his heart beneath the fabric. Any thought that rose to remind her this couldn't last – that they'd have to separate at some point and go back to being adversaries – she forced down.

"Remember the night of the riot? When you saved me from three of your father's guard?" She'd meant to go on about how he made her feel safe, but Lucius stiffened in her arms. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. He didn't return her gaze. Instead, he glared over the crenelations into the darkened streets at the spot where the attack had happened. "Dux Lucius?" she said. "What's the matter?"

"You reminded me of something Weboshi said when I was interrogating her." He grabbed Britta by the shoulders with such suddenness and ferocity, it scared her a little. But her fear vanished the moment she saw the expression of unmitigated joy etched across his face. "I think I can prove my father's the one who kidnapped her."

Before she could ask how, he kissed her again. And again. And again.