In the Shadow of Lightning

51

Over the course of the last few weeks, Kizzie had considered a dozen different scenarios that would let her get Aelia Dorlani alone for questioning. She’d discarded all of them because the risks were too damned high – either get herself killed in the process of trying, or earn the direct enmity of one of the most powerful people in Ossa. Montego changed all that. Perhaps his presence made her reckless, or perhaps she just knew that he would attract – and be able to defend against – that enmity himself.

He was all too enthusiastic about her best plan. He even added his own twist on it.

They stood just outside one of the upper-class pubs on the edge of the Assembly District. Kizzie wore a jacket, scarf, and cloak to protect her from both prying eyes and the cold winter air, while Montego wore a richly embroidered green-and-purple tunic that probably cost more than Kizzie made in a year. His round white face was red from the cold, and his very presence seemed to act as a sort of beacon. Passersby stopped and stared, nudging and whispering to each other. Some called his name, but no one dared approach.

It was the first time Kizzie had stood next to someone genuinely famous. Not guild-family famous, surrounded by bodyguards who would whip the insolence out of anyone who got too close, but so famous that his lone presence could command more fear and more attention than any number of guild-family lackeys. The attention made Kizzie feel naked, and she was glad that her hands and face were hidden behind gloves and a scarf.

“Do people stare like this all the time?” she asked in a low voice.

“They do,” Montego replied, sipping a beer from the pub, his cane grasped in his off hand, the silver bear pommel wagging occasionally at a passing face, as if he was taking special note of them.

“This is awful,” Kizzie said.

“You have no idea.”

“How do you get anything done?”

“Well, I don’t do my own shopping, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Kizzie looked at Montego sidelong to see that he was smirking at her. “You know what I mean.”

“You mean without everyone noticing? I don’t often, but my mere presence acts as a very good distraction.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kizzie didn’t need a distraction tonight. She needed timing, luck, and a little old-fashioned brutality. “You realize we might start a guild-family war?” she asked, lowing her voice even further.

“Perhaps,” Montego responded.

“Should you get Demir’s permission?” Kizzie’s nerves were starting to act up. Just standing next to Montego was enough to do that – her childhood love, the most celebrated killer in Ossa, talking to her in the flesh after sixteen years. Add in the fact that they were about to attempt something truly reckless, and she allowed herself to dip a trembling hand into her pocket and fix a piece of skyglass to her ear.

Montego stared off above the heads of the passing crowd for a moment before answering. “I may be a Grappo by adoption, but I am still Baby Montego. Demir does not presume to tell me what to do any more than I presume to do the same to him.”

Oh, to have such terrible confidence. Kizzie was jealous of it, though she knew she shouldn’t be. Montego had earned it. Kizzie checked her pocket watch. “That’s settled then. It’s time. Meet me at the park?”

“I’ll be there. Good luck.”

Kizzie broke away, hurrying off into the night, keeping her scarf up around her face in case anyone got too curious about Montego’s evening companion. She ducked down a nearby side alley and navigated her way through the labyrinth of alleys, service corridors, and servants’ tunnels that connected the dozens of buildings in the Assembly District. She emerged into Assembly Square, just to the right of the main Assembly building, and paused to take stock of her surroundings.

The cold night left the square mostly empty. A line of carriages were parked along the far side of the square, waiting to pick up their important charges and carry them home. It did not take long for Kizzie to spot Aelia Dorlani’s carriage. The damned thing was a behemoth, the envy of all of Ossa, with an advanced steel design that was still talked about in the papers a year after Aelia had it delivered from a Marnish craftsman. It was outfitted in Dorlani green, the curtains proudly stitched with their silic sigil. Rumor was that it had a whole bed inside, and that Aelia used her late-night drives to cover for rendezvous with lovers all over the city. It was a bullshit story, but it amused Kizzie all the same.

Kizzie found a deserted brazier, burning low, one of dozens specifically for the bodyguards and pages that had to wait for instructions out in the cold. She warmed her hands in front of it, watching the carriage carefully. Occasionally, she checked her pocket watch.

She had done only a little research for this possible plan before abandoning it weeks ago, and had spent the day scrambling to fill in the cracks. Aelia was at the Assembly almost every day. She stayed until well after dark, and then she drove home, where she would have a late dinner and retire for the night, either working or entertaining personal friends.

The only reliable time she wasn’t guarded by the Cinders at the Assembly, or by her entire guild-family at her estate, was on that drive home. She always made it a long drive too, because why not? She had the most luxurious carriage in the world. Might as well use it.

Kizzie waited for almost an hour before Aelia’s lavish monstrosity of a carriage pulled away from the line, the four white horses clopping across the wide square’s cobbles until they reached the main Assembly building. It stopped at the bottom of the massive marble staircase, and within moments Aelia Dorlani swept out of the building and down the stairs, flanked by six bodyguards. Two of them got inside the carriage with her, while the other four leapt onto the running boards. They were off just as quickly as that.

Kizzie waited a few beats, then sprinted down one of the side streets. Her route took her back through a half dozen narrow alleys and turns, but it was a much more direct route than the one Aelia was taking. Kizzie crossed a stone bridge, glancing to her left just long enough to see that Aelia’s carriage proceeded along the road as predicted, then heading down a wide stone staircase, past an iron light post. She jumped a railing, slid down a muddy embankment, and leapt a small creek.

The run had taken her about fifteen minutes, and she reached the heavily wooded Waterside Park with her heart pounding. At a quick glance the park seemed deserted, no one present but a few tramps sleeping beneath burlap bags in the underbrush some ways off. Kizzie continued to search, trying to spot Montego without any luck. A worry hit her, that he’d gone to the wrong park or been waylaid somehow. That wasn’t like him. He’d always been punctual, even as a kid.

She hurried forward, looking for a massive, tangled-root old oak right next to the road. Way off to her left she could see Aelia’s carriage descend carefully from the main road, its oil lamps flickering as it rocked over the uneven cobbles. It would drive slowly through the park, the bodyguards alert for trouble while their master enjoyed the luxury of looking out across the river at the lights of the city.

Kizzie’s heart hammered in her ears and she tried to think of everything that could go wrong. What if Montego wasn’t here? What if they couldn’t stop the carriage? What if … what if … what if…? She silenced the thoughts as her eyes finally found the big oak she was looking for. She ran to it, fixing her braided earrings into place as she snaked around behind the tree and scurried up the big, thick branches.

To her relief, there was a large form waiting for her about twenty feet up. It wasn’t Montego. It was something better – three corpses, lashed together by their legs, their bodies lying carefully across the branch so that a simple shove would send them tumbling off. This was Montego’s twist to her plan, one that was devilishly macabre.

Kizzie climbed carefully out onto the thick limb until she could reach the trio of corpses. She was positioned immediately above the road now and all she had to do was wait, listening to the sound of her blood pumping in her ears.

The carriage drew closer and Kizzie peered around in the darkness, still trying to find Montego. The bodies were in place, which meant he was here. Any doubt that he could make such a climb burdened with three bodies had been put to rest watching him on those ropes in the gymnasium last night. But where the piss was he? How bloody hard could he be to spot?

Kizzie clung to the thick limb beneath her, counting down in her head as the carriage approached. She felt too exposed up here, and half of her expected one of the bodyguards to spot her hiding place and halt the carriage. She studied them carefully as they, in turn, studied the forest around them. One of the bodyguards tapped another on the shoulder and pointed off into the darkness. For half a moment, Kizzie feared that they’d spotted Montego.

But the carriage did not stop.

She couldn’t help but notice how thick-necked the bodyguards on the running boards were, or the blunderbuss lying beneath the driver’s legs, visible only from above. This whole plan, she decided, was very stupid.

She pushed on the corpses.

They slid off their perch, a grisly flailing of stiff limbs that tumbled through the night air and landed squarely on top of Aelia’s carriage. One of them clipped the driver on the back of the head, nearly throwing him off his seat. The second knocked two bodyguards off the left side of the carriage, while the third tore directly through the roof and into the middle of the interior.

The startled driver yanked on the reins, bringing the horses to a stop while a series of terrified screams erupted from within. Eight different people shouted at each other all at once. Kizzie found herself enthralled by the sight of six of the most dangerous enforcers in Ossa thrown into a jumbled panic.

Corpses from heaven would do that to anyone, she supposed.

She waited. Not long. The bodyguards tried to pull the corpses free, not seeming to realize they’d been lashed together. Aelia’s angry, frantic screams made the chaos even worse. All Kizzie needed was for them to recognize the bodies.

“Wait,” one of them suddenly shouted. “This is Bridgette. Glassdamnit, this is Bridgette. And Koren, and Duff. Lady Dorlani, these are our enforcers!”

Not a single one of these idiots had actually looked up yet, and Kizzie wasn’t going to give them the chance. She pulled her stiletto, gave a little prayer that Montego was lurking nearby, and dropped down from her branch. She landed on the driver’s seat, immediately next to the driver, and buried her stiletto in his neck before he could so much as reach for the blunderbuss under his legs.

On a good day, Kizzie considered herself the equal of any of Aelia’s burly bodyguards. She was faster, smarter, and she had just as good godglass. Her attack on the driver was swift but did not go unnoticed. A whole new round of shouts erupted from the carriage as everyone reacted to her presence. One of them leapt for the driver’s perch, drawing his sword, but Kizzie’s boot caught him in the face before he could take a stab. A second reached for his pistol. Kizzie threw her stiletto hard, catching him just below the heart.

It was a very good start, one that she would have been proud of at any other time. But there were still five living bodyguards. Even with the element of surprise, she would not last against them for long. She needed help. She needed it now.

And she got it.

The specter that swept from the trees moved so quick that it almost fooled her eyes, hitting one of the bodyguards from behind like a charging bull. The bodyguard’s body was thrown so hard that it broke one of the carriage’s wooden wheels, causing the vehicle to crack and rock violently. Kizzie reached down to steady herself, and in that time Montego’s cane whipped around and removed the lower jaw of a second bodyguard.

Montego was like a glassdamned dancer, his massive form moving with astonishing grace as he whirled around the back of the carriage. His arm rose and fell twice, the heavy silver bear on the end of his cane splashing blood across the carriage’s brightly colored side. The final bodyguard – the one Kizzie had kicked in the face – was still lying on his back. Montego stepped on his forehead, grinding his heel as if he were stepping on a roach. The poor bastard twitched twice and fell still.

Kizzie stared down at the carnage for a moment, her mouth hanging open, before she remembered to check that her scarf was still hiding her face. She leapt from the driver’s perch, landing beside Montego, and reached for the door of the carriage. Montego stopped her with one hand, then used the other to rip the door off its hinges.

Say one thing for Baby Montego – he was a showman at heart.

Aelia Dorlani sat inside, her lips curled back, a pistol pointed at Montego. “How dare you!” she spat. “Do you know who I am? Do you…” She trailed off as she seemed to realize exactly who it was she was talking to.

Kizzie took Aelia’s moment of shocked realization to reach in and wrench the pistol from her hands, tossing it beneath the carriage. “Aelia Dorlani,” she intoned, “you have been named by your grandson Churian as instigator in the murder of Adriana Grappo. Do you want to confess, or am I going to jam a piece of shackleglass down your throat?” Kizzie felt a dangerous thrill go through her. She had always wanted to threaten an Inner Assembly member. She just never thought she would get the chance.

Aelia trembled with rage, but as Kizzie had expected Aelia’s eyes weren’t even on her. They were glued to Montego. “You common pissant!” she snapped. “You piece of gutter trash! Not even you can get away with this! I will see you sliced to ribbons! I will crush the Grappo into a pulp!”

Montego grasped the carriage doorframe with both hands and shoved, the walls crinkling outward as if they were paper. “You killed my adopted mother. You had your goons poison my tea and attack a hotel under my protection. This is not a Grappo matter, Aelia. This is a Baby Montego matter and I would be nothing but the gutter trash you call me if I didn’t respond in an appropriate manner.”

Kizzie tapped Montego three times under the arm, reminding him that they did not have much time to finish this. There had been no pistol shot, but someone was sure to have heard the commotion. National Guardsmen would be here soon, and if not then Aelia’s household up on the hill would get curious once she was late. Montego seemed to get the message and stepped away from the carriage.

“Answer the question,” he demanded. “Confess, or we will put you to a shackleglass test.”

Kizzie held the small, light green earring up in the palm of her gloved hand. It glittered in the still-burning lights of the carriage’s lamps. Aelia stared at the piece of shackleglass in horror, a look of realization crossing her face. “You wouldn’t. I am on the Inner Assembly. The secrets I know! If the rest of the Inner Assembly finds out you put me to shackleglass they will end you.”

Montego shrugged. “Then I will just have to drown you in the river afterward so there are no witnesses.”

Aelia stared for a moment longer before Kizzie could see the nerve go out of her eyes like something had died within her. “Yes. Yes, I ordered the death of Adriana Grappo.”

“And who else was involved?” Kizzie snapped. “I want names. Who organized this conspiracy?”

“I did it alone,” Aelia claimed, recoiling.

“No, you didn’t. I have confessions. Dorlani, Magna, Grent, Vorcien. Give me the other two names.”

Aelia’s lips curled back in a sneer once more. “No.”

“We already know the Glass Knife,” Montego rumbled. “I will have the answer one way or another. I want the names of your co-conspirators, and I want to know whose idea it was to kill Adriana.”

“This is your chance, Aelia,” Kizzie said, letting her tone grow soft. “Pass on responsibility. Give us someone more palatable to all of us so we can destroy them instead of you. Then you can take your–” She counted in her head, including the other three still in a wagon somewhere nearby. “– thirteen corpses and go home. This will all be over for you.”

“You think this will ever be over?” Aelia hissed. “Not until you’re dead, Montego, and the Grappo are ashes.”

Kizzie swallowed hard. She absolutely believed Aelia. The guild-family matriarch had enough manpower and clout to have her revenge. Thankfully, Aelia was still staring at Montego. She’d not even glanced at Kizzie.

“You don’t have enough enforcers to kill me,” Montego said in disgust. “And I’m not even the dangerous one in the family. Do you think Demir would give you the courtesy of a duel when he finds out you helped kill his mother? He will cut you to ribbons the next time he lays eyes on you. Enforcers can’t protect you against a glassdancer. My presence is a kindness that you should be grateful for.”

“Two names,” Kizzie prodded forcefully. “Who were the other two killers?”

Aelia’s face fell, her eyes taking in the carnage that Montego had caused outside the carriage. “I didn’t know their names,” she said. “They were nobodies. But I do know who planned it.”

“Who?” Kizzie asked.

“Aristanes,” she replied.

“I have no idea who that is,” Kizzie snapped.

“He’s a Purnian priest for some god you’ve never heard of. He’s as rich as a guild-family and twice as cruel. He’s the real killer – the one who wanted Adriana out of the way.”

Montego leaned threateningly against the crumpled exterior of the carriage. “And why did he?”

“I have no idea. I just…” The words seemed to stick in Aelia’s throat, causing a flicker of emotion to cross her face. “… I just follow orders.”

Kizzie found her mouth hanging open once more. Follow orders? Aelia was on the Inner Assembly! One of the five most powerful people in Ossa. Who could possibly give her orders? A foreign priest? That was insane.

“If you want answers,” Aelia finished, “then go find him.”

“Where?” Kizzie demanded.

“The Zorlian Mansion, outside the city.”

Kizzie had a dozen more questions to ask, worried that Aelia was outthinking them and had just set a trap for them to walk into. But they didn’t have any more time. Every moment they remained heightened the risk of being discovered here. If word got out that Montego was behind the attack, Aelia wouldn’t have the option of hiding her humiliation like Sibrial had all those years ago. Kizzie tapped Montego under the arm once more.

Montego nodded. “If I discover you have lied to me, I will not do you the kindness of killing just a handful of your enforcers in the dark, Aelia. I will crush your entire extended family. I will do it in the daylight, and then I will happily meet my fate when the other guild-families avenge you.” He whirled and strode away.

Kizzie kept her eyes on the frightened old matriarch for half a moment, but any sympathy she might have felt was destroyed by the thought of Adriana being bludgeoned to death on the steps of the Assembly, and Kizzie’s idiot brother blackmailed into having to take part. She followed Montego, running to catch up.

They were out of the park within minutes, finding a carriage Montego had left with a loyal Grappo driver and leaving Aelia far behind. Kizzie half expected to hear shouts and alarms, maybe even the sound of pursuit as the scene was discovered. Only silence followed them. They rode for some time, both of them contemplating their inner thoughts, until Kizzie said, “That won’t be the last of it. She will try for vengeance.”

“We should have killed her,” Montego grumbled.

“A dead Inner Assembly member would have the whole city up in arms looking for us,” Kizzie replied. “The Dorlani were already our enemies. At least this way we haven’t made any more.”

Montego sniffed. “I know. It was the right call. But I will not hold back when she comes for me.”

“Do you really think you could crush her entire guild-family? She has hundreds of enforcers.”

Montego considered the question for a moment and frowned. “I was bluffing, but I’d give a good go of it.”

Kizzie shook her head. Her adrenaline was still pumping, riding a high from doing something so damned dangerous and knowing there was a good chance she’d get away with it. Aelia’s ire was directed entirely at Montego. Not that Kizzie wanted that to be the case – but Montego welcomed it. She wondered if he could truly fight several hundred armed guild-family members single-handedly. It wouldn’t be all at once, after all. Montego was too cunning for that.

Perhaps he could.

Montego suddenly took her by the hand. “You’re trembling.”

“I just helped attack an Inner Assembly member,” Kizzie snorted. She moved to pull her hand away, but she found she liked Montego’s callused fingers gently holding hers. “The Zorlian Mansion might be a trap,” she warned him.

“We’ll be ready for it.”

Kizzie could taste the end of this damned conspiracy on the tip of her tongue. After weeks of investigation, being beaten and tricked, watching friends die, she would finally come face-to-face with Adriana’s real killer.