For Want of a Fiend (18 page)

Starbride lifted Katya’s chin until they could look eye-to-eye. “Horseshit.”

Katya breathed a laugh. “I love you more than life.”

“I love you too, but right now you’re next in line for the throne of the most powerful kingdom in existence, however temporary the position would be. You have to hold it for your niece. I’m the one that has to go into dangerous alleys.”

“Not without Brutal and Pennynail. I wouldn’t mind having Averie with you as well.”

“And Hugo? He knows all the secrets, Katya, and he’s good with a blade.”

Katya realized with a start that the idea of Hugo in the Order didn’t make her wary anymore, not after the times he’d proven himself. “We’ll have to ease him into it.”

“We’ve already started.”

Katya pulled Starbride up and into her arms. “I know.”

“No more lectures?”

“But I’m so good at lectures.”

“And I’m good at running off, it seems. I promised Crowe I would train with him this afternoon.” Before Katya could argue, Starbride said, “The better I get at wielding pyramids, the more you’ll know I’m safe.”

Katya had to nod. “I just wish there weren’t so many reasons for you to get better.”

“Just think how boring life would be if court was all it was.”

Even with all the danger, it was true. If all Katya had to do for Farraday was eat cake, she’d have flung herself from the highest tower ages ago.

As Starbride trained in Crowe’s office, she had to put anger
and
affection out of her mind. Either would impede her concentration. It was a shame Katya had to be so lovable and aggravating at the same time.

Starbride only wished some of the serenity she felt while practicing could carry into the rest of her day. Thankfully, when she and Crowe took a break, Pennynail walked in before Crowe could ask about her scowl.

He removed his mask, becoming Freddie again. “Well, I think you and Hugo were the target of a clever misdirection.”

“But it was a dead end. Where could she have gone?”

“One the many doors leading off the alley before the dead end, or if she had a rope waiting, she could have climbed to one of the windows. The cloak was probably to distract you.”

“My lack of experience with skulking rises again.”

“Well,” Freddie said, “tonight will give us another chance if you’re interested.”

“Fingers and toes?” Starbride shuddered. That had been what they called climbing work, scaling buildings to reach their destination.

Crowe chuckled. “I never cared for that either.”

“No, tonight we hang around places rich boys and girls should never enter.” Freddie leaned forward slightly. “Dare I say it?”

“You’re talking of…dens of ill repute,” Starbride said.

“Funny, they never think to call them that.”

Starbride couldn’t contain a clench of her fists at the idea of wantonly doing something her mother would disapprove of. Before she could respond, though, Crowe cleared his throat. “Katya won’t like this.”

A flash of irritation wandered through Starbride. If it had been Katya going, she was certain no one would have said, “Starbride won’t like this.”

“I can take care of myself, and I’m not going alone.” She gestured at Freddie.

Freddie nodded. “Brutal’s going to be out and about tonight, too, just not with us. If anything happens, we’ll run right for him.” He plucked the sleeve of Starbride’s brocaded red shirt. “You’ll have to wear something less noticeable, not this, and not that black leather suit.”

“Black leather suit?” Crowe asked.

Starbride fought down a blush. “Since I can’t completely disguise my heritage, how about I not disguise it at all?”

Freddie frowned, but Crowe chuckled. “A servant who slipped her mistress’s grasp? An Allusian bond servant would never do that.”

“Ah, but most Farradains don’t know that. I can complain about my imaginary mistress to my heart’s content.”

Crowe nodded approvingly. “It just might work.”

“There is one thing,” Starbride said. “I promised Dawnmother that she could come with me if I’m sneaking around the city.”

Freddie and Crowe glanced at each other.

“She’ll be invaluable,” Starbride said. “She knows about servants from the palace, what to say and do. You don’t have to worry about her knowing who you are, Freddie. She knows even less about the history of crime in Farraday than I do. You can trust her.”

“She wouldn’t betray her bond,” Crowe said. “It’s not something Allusian servants are capable of.”

After a long sigh, Freddie nodded. “Don’t tell her why I should stay hidden, just that I should.”

“If you wish,” Starbride said.

As she left Crowe’s office, Starbride’s mind raced. She’d promised never to leave Katya in the dark, and they’d already had one conversation about dangerous missions that day. No one really wanted another.

There was one person whose advice she could ask. Dawnmother pursed her lips at the dilemma. “What does the princess do when she wants to avoid a fight with you?”

“I don’t—”

Dawnmother held up a sheet of paper and a pencil, a slow smile on her face.

“I can’t write Katya a note telling her I’m in the less savory parts of town checking to see how upset everyone is over Appleton’s death.”

“Keep it vague. That’s what she does.”

Would it be too wicked? Starbride grabbed the pencil and scrawled a few sentences about talking to the populace about what had happened, just like Katya had asked them all to do that afternoon. She noted that she was taking plenty of help. Hopefully, Katya would think she was frequenting a better class of tavern. Not an outright lie, but close enough. Starbride had seen the value of lies; she couldn’t deny that.

“I never thought I’d be lying to her, though.” The idea left her emptier than she thought. She scrawled a few more declarations of love and promises to avoid danger.

“It’s a note, not a treaty,” Dawnmother said.

Starbride glared, closed the note, and had Dawnmother send it to Averie. When Dawnmother returned, Starbride donned the simplest of her outfits and one of Dawnmother’s cloaks.

Then they were out the door, no time for looking back.

*

“Shoulders down,” Dawnmother whispered as they walked one of the seedier streets in Marienne. “Defeated, like your mistress beats you.”

“How do you know so much about defeated looking servants?”

“They talk, I listen. How do you think your mother knows so much about court after such a short time? Rainhopeful has ears like a dog’s and the eyes of a hawk.”

Starbride blinked, lost in the idea that her mother’s unobtrusive servant might be a master spy. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We’re not going really low.” Freddie had darkened his red hair and clothes with soot, a chimney sweep just off work. It brought out the green in his eyes. “It’ll be servants and tradesman, the kind of people we’re supposed to be. No thugs. Well, not many.”

He led them up a set of rickety stairs connected to an equally rickety looking building, though it was a fortress compared to the structures in Dockland. Unlike most of the bars or taverns Starbride had seen, the front door was on the second floor. A handful of people lingered on the balcony near the door, watching the street.

Starbride nudged Freddie. “What are they doing?”

“They’re watching for the money, employers coming to fetch people out of the bar. They give a signal, and everyone piles out the back while the money climbs up the front.”

“The money,” Dawnmother said. “That’s what happens when you buy loyalty; you become
the money
, someone to be dodged.”

“Don’t tell me that un-bonded workers are so noble in Allusia,” Freddie said.

Starbride shrugged. “Apparently, they’re just more secretive about it.”

Music poured out the door, beneath the sign of a horse and cart. Freddie passed a coin to the doorman, who let them straight in. Starbride had expected dark corners and lurking figures. This crowd was more raucous than those in the Gold Bar, but it looked livelier and friendlier. Most of the clothing was simple, though Starbride did spot some livery, unbuttoned at the collar, and the occupants were all drinking and laughing with friends. A small group played in the corner, two guitars, and two simple drums held between the knees. Near them, a small knot of people danced enthusiastically but without the polish seen in the palace.

The air of the place made Starbride relax a fraction. She bumped into a woman in a flour-stained blouse who smiled at her. “Long day, hon?”

Starbride nodded without hesitation. It had been a long day. It’d been a long couple of months.

The flour-stained woman pointed toward the bar in the back. “Get a few down ya, and whatever it is won’t seem so bad.”

Suddenly, the idea of a drink sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world. Starbride and Dawnmother followed Freddie to the bar, and soon, they all had a mug of beer to drink.

For the next few hours, they circulated, and Starbride heard about the worst masters and mistresses and bosses. She’d learn one story and then repeat it later when someone asked her about her job. Usually, she didn’t have to claim the story as her own, simply deflecting the question of what she did all day. Dawnmother filled in the gaps with stories she’d heard from Averie or other palace servants. Whenever Starbride saw someone in actual palace livery, she turned the other way.

She soon discovered not to bother. With her simple hairstyle and outfit, no one saw the crown princess consort. The right clothing put people at ease. They knew where they were with an unadorned tunic and braid. They couldn’t see a noblewoman in anything but silks and velvets. Starbride snorted to herself. Only a person who didn’t
think
of herself as a noblewoman could pull off such a disguise. Katya knew how to think below her station. Starbride
was
lower than that station, at least by birth. She bet that if Hugo or Lord Vincent were put in homespun, they wouldn’t look like farmers; they’d look like uncomfortable nobles in plain clothes.

When the bar crowd was well saturated with alcohol, Starbride found out what they really thought of the royals. To most, the Umbriels were creatures as far beyond normal people as the stars in the sky, but they didn’t like Appleton’s murder. More than once, she heard grumbling that it signaled a return to the old days when your boss was in charge of more than just your job; he had your life, too, could have you whipped instead of fired, or worse, didn’t bother to fire you because he owned you.

Starbride, Freddie, and Dawnmother tried their best to put these notions off. They said that Prince Reinholt had been the problem, but he was gone now, thrown out by the king. Starbride had no problem putting the blame on Reinholt’s shoulders, but the tactic didn’t always help. Many muttered that all royals were the same. Katya’s carefully established rake persona didn’t help. Some wondered how she could be any better than Reinholt when all she cared about was wenching and hunting.

“But those days are over, surely,” Starbride said. “Now that Princess Katyarianna has a consort.”

The drunks she spoke to winked and leered at one another. “We’ll see if the Allusian woman can keep the princess’s trousers on,” one said. He peered closely at her. “You’re Allusian, too! What magic did the consort use to make Princess Katyarianna keep her hands to herself?”

“I would imagine,” Dawnmother said sweetly, “that the consort simply warned the princess that should her eyes or hands roam, they would be cut off.”

The drunks roared in laugher. Starbride managed a smile even as her stomach turned over.

Freddie sidled up to Starbride’s side. He had to lean close before she could hear his raspy voice over the crowd and the band. “I think we’ve found out all we can, and the crowd’s getting too drunk to really tell us anything.”

“This is not a den of ill repute,” Starbride said. “There’s not any iniquity going on at all.”

“Sorry, I get all those words mixed up. No formal education, don’tcha know.”

“Don’t give me that,” Starbride said as he hustled her across the floor. “You gave me a soft job on purpose.”

“Would you rather go down the street where good-looking young men and women take their clothes off for coin?”

“No!”

“Yes,” Dawnmother said.

Starbride glanced over her shoulder. “You’ve had too much beer.”

Freddie tightened his grasp on her arm. She tried to shake him off, feeling more than a little rebellious. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that third beer either.

“Listen,” Freddie said. “You…” He glanced over her shoulder. “Oh shit.”

Brutal was walking down the stairs into the bar. His eyes fell on her as she stared at him. He frowned and took a few more steps down. When he glanced at where Freddie grabbed her arm, his brow darkened.

Freddie tried to fade into the crowd. Brutal’s eyes followed him. “I’ll get in front of him,” Dawnmother said.

When Brutal reached them, he pointed in Freddie’s direction. “What did he want? That man?”

“Who knows?” Dawnmother said. “He was drunk. I was just about to tell him to go away when you came in.”

Starbride nodded. “You scared him off. I’m ready to leave anyway.”

Brutal’s glance flicked to her for a moment. “You looked angry, and so did he. If he’s a possible anarchist, we have to investigate him.”

“He was just mad because she wouldn’t go to the back room with him,” Dawnmother said smoothly.

But that was the wrong thing to say to Brutal. He cracked his knuckles. “I’ll set him straight. The impassioned make the best fighters.”

“He’s gone, Brutal,” Starbride said. “Leave him be.”

“He just glanced this way.” Brutal started in Freddie’s direction. Freddie moved toward the back door, but there were too many people in the way. She didn’t know how much Brutal knew of Freddie Ballantine, or what it would take for Brutal to recognize him.

Starbride turned to a man next to her. He held a mug of beer and had a dopey smile on his face as he swayed to the music. “I’m very, very sorry,” she said. The drunken man managed to both smile and frown in happy confusion. “After the first hit,” she added, “just stay down.”