The Seer's Choice: A Novella of the Golden City (20 page)

The court behind the row of houses was private. Beyond the courtyard were the mews that served the wealthy homeowners of the Street of Flowers, and the scent of dust and horses carried in the cool night. With the moon up, it was bright enough to see the whole alleyway, but Oriana couldn’t make out a coach waiting in either direction. She turned to Isabel who, with her white cap and apron, almost looked the part of a housemaid, although an impudent one. “Where is Mr. Efisio’s coach to meet us?”

Isabel pointed to the farther end of the block with her chin. “On Formosa Street. His driver is to wait for us there.”

Oriana groaned. That was several houses away. She should have bribed Carlos to carry the luggage all the way there. Casting about, she spotted the small stair leading from the cobbles down to an old basement entry, the coal room. Reckoning no one would be using that door tonight—no shipment of coal was due for another month at the earliest—she took the two portmanteaus down and tucked them by the steps, where they wouldn’t be seen. Then she and Isabel picked up the trunk between them and began the trek down to the far end of the alley.

Isabel had thrown herself into the adventure of the moment. She didn’t complain about having to carry her own luggage. She didn’t complain about the weight of the trunk, or how far they had to go. She simply picked up her end and led the way. Oriana had to admire her for that, because the trunk was damnably heavy. They’d nearly reached the end of the alley when a coach approached slowly and eased to a stop.

“Thanks be to God!” Isabel said passionately, tugging on her end of the trunk to draw Oriana along faster.

The driver of the coach set the brake and jumped down to help them. They lowered the trunk to the ground as he opened the coach’s door and folded down the steps. Isabel went to climb inside while Oriana spoke to the burly driver. “I need to go fetch two more bags,” she told him. “I’ll be only a moment.”

He grunted his assent, and Oriana turned to dash back to the Amaral’s courtyard.

A hand grabbed her hair, fingers tightening about the braided mass at the nape of her neck. Off balance, Oriana stumbled backward toward her attacker. Before she could cry out, he pressed a cloth over her mouth and dragged her against his body.

Oriana bit down hard. But biting only drove the cloth into her teeth, a strange sweet taste on her tongue and in her gills. She struggled wildly as the fire in her stomach died back into cold fear. The big man had her pinned helpless against him. She kicked at his shins, but her heel tangled in the hem of her skirts, like seaweed wrapping about her legs. It was getting harder to move
. All these damned skirts . . .

The man set her down, shaking the hand she’d bitten. Oriana swayed on her feet. She tried to loosen her shirt cuff to draw her dagger, but the moon wavered in her vision. A surge of nausea rose, leaving her hot, then cold.

What was wrong with her? She should
do
something . . .

As if at a great distance, she heard Isabel cry out. Oriana spun that way, reaching one arm out to her. Then she was tilting, falling toward the night-dark cobbles.

Want to read more of Oriana’s tale? You can
purchase
The Golden City
here
.

J.
K
ATHLEEN
C
HENEY
is a former teacher and has taught mathematics ranging from 7th grade to Calculus, with a brief stint as a Gifted and Talented Specialist. Her short fiction has been published in
Jim Baen’s Universe
,
Writers of the Future
, and
Fantasy Magazine
, among others, and her novella “Iron Shoes” was a 2010 Nebula Award Finalist. Her debut novel,
The Golden City
was a Finalist for the 2014 Locus Awards (Best First Novel). The sequels,
The Seat of Magic
and
The Shores of Spain
are both now available.

To find excerpts of her work, short fiction, and more, visit
www.jkathleencheney.com
.

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