Storms of Lazarus (Shadows of Asphodel, Book 2) (17 page)

“Something feels wrong,” Ardis murmured.

Wendel crouched by Krampus and held out half of a cookie. The raven tucked his wings to his body and skipped sideways.

“We should go,” Ardis said.

Wendel straightened, the cookie crumbling in his hand, and squinted.

“To the airship?” he said. “Already?”

Her fingers tightened on her sword. “Yes. Now.”

Ardis threaded through the crowd. She hunched her shoulders, trying to be stealthy, though she knew she was terrible at sneaking. She hated enemies who never showed their faces, always skulking in the shadows.

Which was, of course, Wendel’s style. Thank God he was on her side.

“Excuse me,” said a man. “You dropped this.”

Ardis whirled. A man stood near enough to touch, his turquoise eyes striking against his dark eyelashes and dusky skin.

“Is this yours?” the man said.

He held out a black dagger. Ripples in the metal marked it as Damascus steel. Intricate silver engravings flowered the hilt.

Amarant.

When Ardis had last seen the dagger, it had been dripping with Wendel’s blood.

She struggled to keep a straight face, afraid she stared at the blade for too long. Afraid she had no hope of bluffing.

“No,” Ardis said. “That’s not mine.”

“My apologies,” said the man.

He withdrew the dagger and turned around. He strode through the crowd toward Wendel, who stood staring at the rooftops.

Ardis sucked in air to shout. “Wendel!”

Wendel looked in her direction. But he still didn’t see the man. And anyone with the black dagger had to be an assassin.

A horse and cart rumbled in front of Ardis, a mountain of turnips blocking her view.

“Damn it,” she hissed between her teeth.

Ardis circled around the lumbering horse and elbowed through the crowd. She ignored the glares and the protests.

When she stumbled into the street, the man halted by Wendel.

“Excuse me,” the man said.

Wendel retreated a step. His face blanched to the color of bone.

“Nasir,” he said.

The man dipped his head. “You remember me.”

“You know I could never forget.”

Ardis edged nearer, her hand clamped on her sword. Who was Nasir? Why was Wendel looking at him with such intensity?

“Have you come to kill me?” Wendel said.

Nasir looked at him, calmly confident. “You have an incredible bounty on your head.”

“How does the Grandmaster know I’m alive?”

“The archmages aren’t known for subtlety.”

Wendel slid his foot backward. Nasir fingered the black dagger.

“Nasir,” Wendel said. “Don’t do this.”

A sigh left Nasir, clouding the air, and Wendel bolted into the crowd. Nasir sheathed the dagger and sprinted after him.

Ardis let go of her sword’s hilt and lunged into a run.

Ahead, the crowd jostled and shouted as Wendel zigzagged between them. He left the market behind and crossed the street. A solid wall of apartments blocked him, and he veered, running down the sidewalk. Nasir leapt into traffic and dodged an automobile, losing some speed, then swerved onto the sidewalk.

Ardis pushed herself into a sprint. Her throat ached in the bracing cold.

An archway yawned between the apartments. Wendel ducked inside and disappeared. Nasir slowed to a jog and followed him.

Panting, Ardis stopped outside the archway and peered around the corner.

Evergreens rustled in an arcaded courtyard. Ivy shrouded the stone arches. Nasir lingered in the center of the courtyard and tilted his head. He searched the shadows between the arcades, and the stairs leading to apartments.

“Wendel,” Nasir said. “We haven’t spoken in so long.”

Ardis let out a lungful of air. She forced herself to inhale quietly as she stole down the archway and entered the courtyard.

“I remember our time in Prague,” Nasir said.

Ardis ducked behind an evergreen, then glanced left and right. She spotted Wendel lurking behind a column. He held his finger to his lips. She nodded and looked back to Nasir, who was stalking along the arcade.

“When you were alone at night,” Nasir said, “did you think of me?”

Ardis didn’t want to hear more. Heat already scorched her cheeks. She tensed the muscles in her legs and reached for her sword.

“
Grok
!”

Wingbeats rustled over the courtyard. Krampus landed on an evergreen and bounced, fanning his wings for balance.

When Nasir glanced at the raven, Wendel darted from one column to the next. Wendel reached inside his coat. A straight razor flashed in the shadows. He held the blade low and waited for Nasir to wander nearer.

“Don’t hide from me,” Nasir said.

Wendel lunged from the column and attacked Nasir. The assassin dodged, the straight razor slashing his back. Wendel twisted Nasir’s arm, but Nasir tumbled into a roll and flung Wendel onto the cobblestones.

In a heartbeat, Wendel sprang onto his feet and leapt away.

“A razor?” Nasir said.

Wendel sneered. “Better than Amarant in your hands. What a waste.”

Nasir drew the black dagger. He slashed at Wendel, who hit his wrist to divert the blow, then slashed again. Wendel blocked with the straight razor. The brittle blade shattered, shards chiming on the cobblestones.

Armed with a broken straight razor, Wendel backed away.

“Guess what?” Ardis said. “I’m the only one with a sword.”

She unsheathed Chun Yi, enchanted flames rushing down the steel.

Nasir spared her a glance. “Stay out of this, you slant-eyed bitch.”

“Brilliant.” Wendel laughed callously. “Insult the bloodthirsty mercenary.”

Nasir stabbed at his chest. Wendel defended barehanded, the dagger cutting his forearm, then slashed Nasir’s stomach with the broken razor. He tried to slash again, but Nasir hit him in the jaw and knocked him back.

Ardis took this as her invitation to the fight. With a shout, she swung Chun Yi.

Nasir dodged. He hit the ground, rolled, and scrambled out of her reach. When he jumped upright, he watched her sword.

“Next time?” Wendel said. “Try killing him silently.”

Ardis growled at him. “I hate stealth.”

Chun Yi’s magic tingled over her skin and hummed in her bones. The sword wanted blood, and blood would make it stronger.

Nasir looked away, his attention on Wendel.

Ardis feinted with a swooping attack. Nasir knocked aside her sword with his dagger, but she angled her blade inside his arm. She surged at him, her teeth bared, and drove her sword into his shoulder with brute force.

Nasir grunted and wrenched away. He swore in what had to be Turkish.

“It’s over, Nasir,” Wendel said.

“Already?” Nasir said. “You never did last long.”

The assassin clutched his shoulder. His hand came away red. Relentlessly, Ardis attacked again. She cut at Nasir’s leg, trying to hobble him, but he whirled and grabbed Wendel’s neck. He shoved Wendel against a column and pinned him there. Nasir looked into Wendel’s eyes as if savoring this instant of triumph.

“You never did think things through,” Wendel said hoarsely.

Wendel raised the broken razor, but Nasir hit his wrist and knocked it to the cobblestones. Nasir held the dagger to Wendel’s throat.

“Ardis,” Wendel said.

She didn’t know what he wanted. But Nasir shared her indecision and glanced at her. Wendel elbowed Nasir’s face, kneed him between the legs, and kicked him to the ground. Nasir curled with a choked moan. Before Nasir could inhale, Wendel crushed his fingers beneath his boot and forced him to drop the dagger.

Breathing hard, Wendel took back Amarant.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Wendel said.

Nasir slumped on the cobblestones. Blood darkened his shirt.

“Why?” the assassin said.

“I know who you are,” Wendel said. “I know this isn’t you.”

Nasir stared at him. “You’re a fool.”

“Perhaps.”

With glacial eyes, Wendel walked from the courtyard.

“Wendel,” Nasir said. “Wendel!”

But the necromancer never looked back.

Ardis loped from the courtyard and caught up with Wendel on the street. Still breathing hard, Wendel wiped Amarant on his sleeve. He rotated his arm to look at the slash. Blood dripped on the cobblestones.

“Are you all right?” Ardis said.

“Yes,” Wendel said. “Keep walking.”

“Do you think Nasir was alone?”

“I don’t know.”

They walked until they left the courtyard at least five blocks behind. They stopped by a fountain, where Wendel washed away the blood in the icy water. A little boy stared at them until his mother dragged him away.

“How the hell did you know him?” Ardis said.

Wendel shook water from his hands. “Constantinople.”

“That doesn’t explain anything,” she said.

Wendel blushed, which was rare enough to explain everything.

“You slept with him,” she said. “And then you left him.”

“No!” His shoulders stiffened. “No, I…”

Ardis glared at him. “Are you saying Nasir pined after you like poor Konstantin, and you broke his heart?” She laughed scathingly. “Jesus Christ, don’t tell me you left a trail of heartbroken assassins behind.”

Wendel bowed his head. “Nasir was the one who left.”

Guilt and jealousy needled Ardis. She didn’t want to imagine it, but she wanted to know.

“Why?” she said.

Wendel’s eyebrows angled in a frown. He concentrated on tying a handkerchief around his arm, though he was doing a poor job of it. Ardis watched him for a moment, gritting her teeth, until she couldn’t watch anymore.

“Stop,” Ardis said. “Let me.”

Silently, Wendel held out his arm. She knotted the handkerchief around the wound.

“You might need stitches,” Ardis said.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does. You don’t need any more scars.”

Wendel kept his head down. His eyebrows angled in a frown.

“Nasir doesn’t matter,” he said. “It was a mistake. It was over in a week.”

Ardis glowered at his wound. “Why didn’t you kill him?”

“It wasn’t that easy.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

“God, no.” He grimaced. “But I don’t want my only solution to be death.”

“That’s surprisingly merciful of you.”

“Thank you,” Wendel muttered.

“If he touches you again,” Ardis said, “I’ll kill him myself.”

Wendel’s mouth twisted into a wry smile.

“Your ferocity is touching.” But his smile faltered. “I can’t believe he found me. I can’t believe the Grandmaster knows I’m alive.”

“Did you expect to stay dead forever?” Ardis said lightly.

Wendel arched his eyebrows. “An unmarked grave was nice while it lasted.”

~

The silver skin of the USS
Jupiter
gleamed in the noonday sun. Ardis and Wendel strode across Aspern Airfield, the frosty grass crunching beneath their boots. They stopped beneath the mammoth shadow of the airship.

Konstantin waved to them. “Ardis! Wendel!”

He had a wild glint in his eyes, his hair already windblown, and Ardis suspected he had been too busy to sleep while tinkering with the clockwork wasp last night. She wouldn’t be surprised if he were running on coffee.

“This is it,” Konstantin said. “Our ticket to Königsberg.”

Ardis nodded at Himmel and Ursula, the doctor from the
Wanderfalke
. Konstantin beckoned everyone and bounded onto the mooring mast. Ursula marched upstairs next, her sensible heels clicking, her doctor’s bag swinging in her hand. Himmel climbed more sluggishly, his right arm still cradled in a sling. Ardis nudged Wendel with a hand between his shoulders, and he dug his heels into the grass.

“Up you go,” Ardis said.

“Forgive me,” Wendel said, “if I’m not thrilled to fly to Prussia on an airship. I don’t like flying. Or airships. Or Prussia.”

“Tough luck.”

Wendel hauled himself up the mooring mast. He gripped the railings with white knuckles. As Ardis climbed after him, she saw a raven riding the wind. Krampus circled the tower, fanned his wings, and landed on the stairs.

Directly in front of Wendel.

Wendel stared down at the raven. “Excuse me.”

Krampus cocked his head. His black feathers glistened violet in the sun.

“You brat,” Wendel said. “I know you want to be a stowaway.”

“
Grok
.”

Wendel let out a long-suffering sigh. He held out his arm. The raven flew to his wrist, then hopped to his shoulder.

“How could you ever abandon Krampus?” Ardis teased.

Wendel scoffed. “Easily.”

But he bit back a smile as the raven nibbled his hair.

When they boarded the USS
Jupiter
, they were greeted by Yeoman Kay, the American woman with the fiery hair.

“Welcome back aboard,” Kay said. “Our estimated flight time is six hours.”

On the observation deck, Ardis watched as the airship cast off from the mooring mast. They soared above Vienna and floated over clouds like whipped cream. She settled in a comfortable chair, closed her eyes, and indulged herself in the luxury of relaxation. The airship’s engines droned in her ears.