The Prophecy Con (Rogues of the Republic) (49 page)

As the floor bucked hard, Loch caught her balance again. Veiled Lightning fell back as well.

“I’m sorry, but we’re running short on time,” said the ax, shifting the last few inches into Gentle Thunder’s dead hand. “Nothing personal.”

The corpse rose to its feet.

Veiled Lightning stepped between it and Loch, shaking and weak. “It is absolutely personal.”

Arikayurichi swung, and Veiled Lightning moved, flowing like water
past
the ax-head and pivoting, and then the Nine-Ringed Dragon came up in a perfect arc.

Arikayurichi flew through the air and into the chasm, still in the grip of a hand severed cleanly just past the wrist.

“Thunder taught me that move, you bastard,” Veiled Lightning said, and fell to her knees.

Loch looked down at Ghylspwr. “So, what about you? Any last plan to distract me and then cut me down?”

“
Kun-kabynalti—”

“Don’t.” She chopped the air with her palm. “Don’t tell me you were trying to save lives. Don’t tell me it was for the greater good. You picked your side. You helped your friend get Heaven’s Spire ready to blow up half the Republic.”

She turned and walked back to the console.

“I have no idea what happens if I don’t let this energy out,” she said, “but I doubt it’ll be worse than what you wanted
me to do.”

“
Besyn larveth’is?”

“Now we wait.”

Dairy stood by Mister Dragon, now in his still-very-large human form, and looked up at Heaven’s Spire overhead. The underside of the city was now a brilliant white, shining like the sun on an overcast day. Every crystal in the courtyard of the Temple of Butterflies hummed with a faint crackling energy.

“Is there anything we can do?” he asked Mister Dragon.

Mister Dragon smiled gently. “Your alchemist, your illusionist, and your death priestess are doing all they can down here. If there is any way for them to stop the Temple of Butterflies from amplifying the blast, they will find it.” He looked up at the city, one hand shielding his eyes.

He smelled
very
good.

“What about you, sir?” Dairy asked. “You know more about this magic than most.”

Mister Dragon shook his head. “I am not a creature of subtlety, my young man. I believe you will find that out yourself, if you are willing.” He grinned, and Dairy’s stomach went a little funny, but not in a bad way. “I could tear this temple apart, if I wished, but for all we know, that would cause the very explosion we were trying to prevent.”

“Then why wait?” came a dry voice, and Dairy looked over to see Ululenia sauntering over. She was a woman again, and her dress was white, but it had a mark on the hip that wasn’t normally there. “You and your young man should get a room.”

Mister Dragon shot her a look, and Ululenia shot him one back. Dairy didn’t know what it all meant.

He did know that Ululenia was his friend, though.

“I’ll just be a moment,” Dairy said, and pulled away from Mister Dragon. The large man nodded gravely, then went back to watching Heaven’s Spire overhead.

Ululenia raised an eyebrow as he approached.
I do not need your pity, Dairy. You made your feelings clear, and I am pleased you have found happiness.

“What price?” Dairy asked.

Ululenia blinked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said aloud.

“You talked about a price when we were riding Mister Dragon. You never said what it was.” Dairy pointed at your hip. “And now you have a black mask with antlers on it on your dress, and you’re not as kind as you used to be.”

“We all change, Dairy.” Ululenia smiled. “After all, didn’t you join the Knights of Gedesar?”

It was meant to hurt him, and a younger Dairy would have flinched from it.

“You still haven’t told me what the price is,” he said firmly, “and I’m worried. I would still like to be your friend, even if I don’t sleep with you.”

She blinked again, and then she looked away, grimacing.

Then she reached out a hand.
Here
, she said.

Dairy felt it wash over him all at once.

Skoreinis lunged in, antlers blazing with his aura, and Ululenia’s horn blazed in response. They clashed, and they were talons and hooves, claws and tusks, all at once, shining in the little room as they struck. It was magical as much as physical, arrogant apples and buttery blueberries washing across both of their minds as they sought to bring the other low.

Then Ululenia fell, and Skoreinis stood over her, and he laughed. “You fight well for one unblooded, unicorn, but you were overmatched from the start.”

“I know,” said Ululenia, and drew the silver dagger that the Knights of Gedesar had used on her from the pocket of her dress. It burned, even through the leather she had wrapped around the hilt, and her hand blistered.

As did Skoreinis’s flesh as it sank into his chest.

He stammered, and then he was silent, and then he laughed.

And then his magic fell into bits of light, and the bits of light fell into Ululenia.

Dairy stepped back, blinking and shaking his head.

“He is inside me now,” Ululenia said. “His anger, his cruelty, all of it. I am still me, but . . .”

“You’re growing up,” Dairy said. “It makes you different, but you don’t have to let it make you evil. It’s hard, sometimes, and you’ll make mistakes, but you’ll be all right.”

Ululenia smiled and shut her eyes. “Damn you, Dairy,” she said, looking away and wiping her face. “You could have just ignored it, like the rest.”

“I care about you, Ululenia. You’re my friend.” He took her hand again. “If you still want to be, that is.”

“As the wolf cub nosing at his mother’s flank, only to flinch back when he sees her muzzle, you . . .” She pulled him in and held him tightly for a moment. “Thank you,” she whispered, and her cheeks were wet.

Heaven’s Spire flared a brilliant purple-white, so bright that everyone in the courtyard had to look away, and a wave of energy flashed out in all directions.

Dairy felt it wash over him, tingling like a spray of cool water.

Then it passed, and the courtyard was dark again.

Dairy looked up at Heaven’s Spire, and saw that it hung in the sky, safely dark again.

Ululenia let him go, and smiled, her pale skin glowing in the now-dark sky. “Go slay your dragon, Rybindaris.”

Dairy smiled a little nervously and turned to Mister Dragon, who was looking at Heaven’s Spire as well, pleased and apparently unworried.

“Well, then,” Mister Dragon said, letting out a long and happy sigh, “my young man and I will need a room.”

When the complete and utter blackness of the room gave way to the faint glimmer of runes on the floor again, Loch saw that Ghylspwr was no longer on the floor.

Archvoyant Bertram stood, his eyes glassy and blank, with Ghylspwr held in a careful two-handed grip. He looked at Loch for a long moment.

Then, without a word, he stepped off the edge of the chasm and plunged into the darkness below.

“What happened?” Veiled Lightning asked groggily. The last moments had flung them all around the room like rag dolls.

“Looks like we’re not exploding,” Loch said.

Pyvic groaned, as did Cevirt on the far side of the room.

“What now, then?” Veiled Lightning asked.

Loch let out a long breath and got back to her feet. “Now we put things right.”

Epilogue

As the sun rose on the Temple of Butterflies, Loch stood in the courtyard next to Pyvic, looking up to where Veiled Lightning and General Jade Blossom stood at the top of the steps.

“This is a mistake,” Pyvic said very quietly.

“Could be,” Loch admitted, “but not as big as it’d be if we waited for the diplomats to come down. We make the deal now, them and us, and the diplomats will at least have to work within whatever we come up with.”

“So we stole an airship—”

“—commandeered—”

“—just because you’re afraid of the diplomats screwing this up.”

Loch looked over at him, leaned in, and kissed him gently. “Yes.”

He hugged her once, then let go as she stepped back. “All right. You beat her at cards. I assume you know whether she’ll be willing to take the elven manuscript in return for ceasing hostilities.”

Loch took a breath, looked up the stairs at Veiled Lightning and the general, and started walking, with Pyvic at her side.

“You know I cheated to beat her at cards, right?” she asked without moving her lips.

“Then I guess you’d better cheat now, too,” Pyvic said quietly, and Loch smiled back at him and hoped that all he saw in her face was the stress of preparing for negotiation.

The others were around as well. As concerns turned from technical to diplomatic, Desidora was investigating the runes and crystals running through the Temple of Butterflies, while Mister Dragon stood beside a flushed but
very
happy-looking Dairy, watching the proceedings with interest. Tern and Hessler, who had helped commandeer the airship, were checking the walls for any damage. Imperial guards watched them all nervously, with Icy Fist acting as mediator.

As Loch and Pyvic reached the top of the steps, General Jade Blossom stepped forward. “You enter the presence of Imperial Princess Veiled Lightning, Gift of Heaven and heir to the Empire.”

Veiled Lightning had had a bath and a change of outfits since last night, which was more than Loch had gotten. Her dress was once again deep lavender cut with violet. The Nine-Ringed Dragon rode at her hip.

“Your Highness.” Loch bowed. “General.”

“The last time you entered this temple,” General Blossom said, “you desecrated the inner sanctum and assaulted the princess.”

“To be fair,” Loch said without missing a beat, “she kind of brought that upon herself.”

General Jade Blossom’s mouth moved in what someone with more observational ability than political savvy would have suggested was an attempt to hide a smile. “And the time before
that
, you led a scouting unit that attacked this temple.”

“Only because some brilliant Imperial military strategist decided to park her troops in the middle of said temple without admitting it,” Loch said.

This time, it was Veiled Lightning hiding a smile.

“Next time, I will make sure to send a polite letter your way,” General Jade Blossom said. “Your crimes against the Empire are facts known to all.”

“Nevertheless,” Veiled Lightning said, raising an arm to check General Blossom, “our two great nations have both suffered losses from this scourge of undead. The Empire has no wish for more death to follow so quickly.”

“Provided,” General Blossom added, speaking right over Veiled Lightning’s raised arm, “that it can be assured that Heaven’s Spire will not be used as a weapon again.”

“Granted,” Loch said. “The
lapiscaelum
that fell to the ground last night, we offer to you freely, that you might study its magic, lest you be concerned about us violating our agreement and wish to develop defenses against just such an attack in the future.”

The courtyard went silent and still for a moment.

“We already
had
that,” General Jade Blossom said after a moment.

“And now we’re letting you keep it,” Pyvic said, smiling cheerfully.

“While your generous offer goes far in healing the harm done to both nations,” Veiled Lightning said dryly, “we cannot be satisfied with that alone. As a gesture of faith and friendship between our two nations, I remind you of several Imperial treasures taken illegally from our borders. I believe there is one in particular, an elven manuscript, whose return would show all the assembled that this is the dawn of peace between our two nations. Can you give us that manuscript, Isafesira de Lochenville?”

Loch looked over at Pyvic, let out a long breath, and stepped forward to the two Imperial women, her hand going to her belt.

“No,” she said.

“What?” Pyvic barked behind her.

“What?” Veiled Lightning barked in front of her.

Loch drew her knife from her belt and passed it to General Blossom. “I cannot give you what I have already given away, and while I don’t know that the elves are the rightful owners, what with passing the dwarves a fake, they’ve got a better claim to it than I do.”

“Loch!” Pyvic snapped. “
What the hell are you doing
?”

“Good question,” Veiled Lightning said, her stare never leaving Loch.

“I believe the original peace agreement between the Empire and Heaven’s Spire hinged upon me surrendering myself into Imperial custody,” Loch said, “to answer charges of turning Heaven’s Spire into a weapon and committing hostile acts. I stand ready to . . .”

Loch trailed off at a sudden poke at her back.

She turned. “Damn it, Pyvic, this was the only . . .”

Then she looked down and saw the bolt, its barbed head protruding dead center from her chest.

“Oh,” she said, and fell.

Nystin lifted the crossbow in triumph as Isafesira de Lochenville dropped to the ground.

He’d waited all night.

The other Imperial guards had thought he’d been with the Republic group, and he’d stayed out of sight of anyone who could have recognized him, biding his time.

He had no armor and no weapons. Attacking an Imperial guard would have yielded something, but the risk had been too great. After days locked into the service of that
thing
, Nystin wasn’t at his best. His hands were shaking, clenching and unclenching all by themselves, and he found himself giggling and twitching when he didn’t pay attention to things.

None of that mattered, though, because he had
known
that when they’d all gathered in the courtyard, he’d have a chance. He’d
known
that the little alchemist would get excited about the flamecannons and leave her crossbow resting on the battlements where anyone could just go pick it up.

And he’d
known
he’d get one last chance at Loch.

They all pooled around the woman now, just like the blood pooled around her. As the Imperial guards wrenched the crossbow from his grasp and drove him to the ground with fists and the butts of their weapons, Nystin kept his eyes fixed upon her.

Justicar Pyvic, traitor to his own, stepped away, pale and shaking, and looked at Nystin with murder in his eyes. The death priestess dashed out from the inner sanctum, her face deadly pale, and when she reached the crowd, it parted for her, all save the Imperial princess, who knelt by Loch.

“She is dead,” Veiled Lightning said, her voice ringing clearly through the courtyard.

Nystin began to laugh. One of the guards hit him. Off at the edge of his vision, the mousy little alchemist picked up her crossbow and looked at Nystin, her eyes huge behind her spectacles.

“Do you think you need to tell me that?” the death priestess asked, and even from where she stood across the courtyard, Nystin felt the chill in the air. The runes on the walls slid into the shape of skulls and gargoyles. “She died in Imperial custody.”

“You will receive reparations,” Veiled Lightning snapped, and stood, wiping the blood from her hands. “Unless you wish to destroy the peace she was willing to surrender herself for.”

The death priestess paused.

“Diz,” said Loch’s little Urujar lieutenant from the doorway of the inner sanctum.

The walls slid back into their normal shapes, and the death priestess shook her head. “I will see her body preserved for a proper burial at her family’s estate.”

Justicar Pyvic dropped to his knees then, and the death priestess put her hand on his shoulder, and Nystin laughed until the darkness overtook him once and for all.

“Repairs are currently underway,” the griffon said to the crowd gathered around the puppet stage. “Interim Archvoyant Cevirt anticipates that all parts of Heaven’s Spire should have light and water again by the end of the day.”

“Damage is reportedly light,” the dragon added, “and temples of all faiths have invited any citizen suffering from injuries to request help. If you find anyone who is unable to reach a temple themselves, please contact the justicars or go to the temples directly, and help will be dispatched.”

The manticore, looking very subdued, was the last to speak. “We still have no sign of Archvoyant Bertram, who is presumed dead after the attack that damaged Heaven’s Spire and nearly sparked a full-out war with the Empire.” He turned to the dragon and added, “Although really, when you consider the attacks by the undead—”

“That’s enough!” the griffon yelled. “I was against escalating hostilities this entire time, and seeing that this may have been the work of independent organizations trying to provoke a fight between our two great nations simply shows that—”

The dragon snorted out a tiny puff of flame, and both of the other puppets went silent.

“We ask that everyone keep watch closely,” the dragon said, looking out into the crowd, “as we continue to investigate. Remember, it’s your republic.”

“Stay informed!” the crowd shouted back.

At the edge of the crowd, an elf in a heavy green cloak rubbed a ring on one hand and smiled thoughtfully. Perhaps the humans would change this time.

Stranger things had happened.