In the Shadow of Lightning

55

“Is there a word,” Thessa asked, “for when circumstance keeps you from getting some?”

Though Thessa had rushed back to the Forge and hardly slept, lying awake next to the phoenix channel until the wee hours of the morning, there had been no lightning strike. Thunder seemed to roll past them all night, small flashes of lightning high up in the sky. Not a one had decided to jump down to earth for her test. The dawn came on with a warm updraft blowing off the ocean, taking the chill out of the air, and the wind was picking up once more.

Pari stood next to her, looking out the little window in the stone lighthouse that faced out across the water. “I spent a lot of time with river pigs when I was a teen – you know those insane log drivers who move timber down the river? They used to call it a logjam when something interrupted their, uh, dalliances.”

“Logjam,” Thessa scoffed. “I don’t have a log, but I like it. Look at that storm out there. It’s almost black. We’re going to get some real proper rain soon. Let’s hope it comes with lightning.” She tapped her fingers nervously against the stone wall. Did she really regret not sleeping with Demir, even after finding out about Holikan? The very thought seemed twisted, and yet … the anger was gone, her fury snuffed out. He was another victim, tortured by culpability that it didn’t sound like he even deserved. Their shared experiences had absolutely nothing to do with Holikan.

She’d spent the whole night thinking about him; wondering what would happen after the war and the phoenix channel test. The fact that she still felt a spark with him even while telling him they couldn’t be more than business partners made things complicated. She needed to step back. To think. They’d known each other for less than two weeks. Once the battle was done – once the test was conducted – she had to promise herself not to rush into anything she would regret later.

She found Pari watching her with a leering smile. “What?”

“Demir Grappo, eh?”

“Don’t,” Thessa warned her assistant.

Pari threw up her hands. “Fine, fine. What’s next, Jailbird?”

“Everything is next. If that incoming storm brings lightning, we need to be ready for it.” Thessa hurried over to the phoenix channel, running her hands along the copper cable. She checked that the copper didn’t touch the tin casing anywhere, and that the insulation was in place. She checked each coupling for the tenth time in the last hour. The truth was they really didn’t have anything to do. The phoenix channel was ready. They even had a neat little basket of spent godglass sitting on a stool on the “exit” side of the phoenix channel.

Satisfied that she’d done everything she could to prepare the test, she headed outside to the camp of Grappo enforcers. Aside from a handful of enforcers on guard duty, everyone else was huddled under tarpaulins or in the shadow of the craggy landscape, trying to stay warm without a fire. She’d offered to let them rotate through the lighthouse last night for a bit of warmth, but not a single one wanted to stand near either the lightning rod or the audibly humming box of sorcery it was attached to.

The first thing she saw when she stepped outside was Tirana. The master-at-arms seemed to be waiting for her, and before Thessa opened her mouth she said, “We need to talk. Alone.”

“Of course. Inside? Pari, give us a minute, please.”

They were soon inside the lighthouse, where Tirana stayed as close as humanly possible to the door, glancing askance at the phoenix channel. She produced something from inside her jacket and held it out – a strange coil of burnt paper wrappings. “Do you know what this is?”

“It looks like a bigger version of the wrappings soldiers use on gunpowder charges,” Thessa said, thinking back to watching the glassworks garrison take inventory in the courtyard when she was younger.

“It’s a military signal flare,” Tirana answered in a low voice. She pushed the door open just slightly, looking out into the Forge through the crack. “I found it burning underneath a rock half an hour ago. Someone must have set the damn thing early this morning.”

“Underneath a rock?” Thessa echoed.

“Out of the rain, hidden from us, but so that the light would reflect out toward the south. Toward Harbortown.”

“Ooooh,” Thessa said, drawing the word out. She reached out and touched the damp wrappings, then looked up sharply to meet Tirana’s eye. “Someone set this deliberately to signal to the Grent besieging the harbor.”

“It’s the only explanation, and I’d stake my career that it was whoever pushed Justaci off the edge two nights ago.” Tirana shoved the burnt wrappings back in her jacket angrily. “I’ve got all my enforcers on high alert, sleeping four to a tent, keeping an eye on each other without knowing that’s what they’re doing.”

“Did any report anything suspicious?”

“Not one of them.”

“Does Breenen know about all of this?”

Tirana hesitated. “I haven’t told anyone but you. After what happened at the Hyacinth earlier this week I don’t trust anyone but Master Demir and Montego. The only reason I trust you – no offense – is because Demir told me you were in charge of this operation.”

So who the piss could it be? Thessa swallowed a lump in her throat, thinking through all the enforcers. There were forty people out there and she knew the names of only half of them. Any could be a spy or a traitor. Even Breenen, though that seemed outlandish. Was it Pari? Was it Tirana herself, trying to throw Thessa off the scent? She wondered if she’d made a mistake refusing Demir’s offer to move into the shelter of the nearby army until this battle was over. Perhaps she still should.

But that storm would arrive before they could even pack up. No sense in wasting the opportunity. Besides, her logic was still sound. If there was a traitor among them, taking more time would just give that person more opportunities for betrayal.

“How does that flare work?” she asked.

“It’s just a cylinder filled with a particular blend of slow-burning gun-powder and some chemicals to add color,” Tirana answered. “You pull a cord, it causes a spark inside the flare and starts to burn.”

“Will it leave powder residue on the hands? Like when soldiers fire a musket?”

Tirana’s face brightened. “It will! That’s brilliant.”

“Let’s check everyone,” Thessa said. “Subtly, mind you. So they don’t spook.” Her fear mixed with righteous indignation. No guild-family traitor was going to ruin this moment, not if she could help it. This test would succeed or fail on her merits. “You check,” she said, “I’ll talk.”

“Agreed.”

They went back outside, where Thessa carefully glanced at Pari’s hands first. A little dirt, but no powder residue. That took a weight off Thessa’s shoulders. She was beginning to like Pari a lot. The woman had saved her life, after all. She was glad she wasn’t a spy. Thessa continued past, motioning for her to follow, and walked over to the firepit that had been cold since Demir’s messenger last night.

“Everyone!” she said, shouting to be heard above the growing wind, “listen up! As you all know, there’s going to be a battle nearby sometime in the next few days. I’m hoping we’ll all be gone well before the fighting starts. To that end, I want everyone packed and ready to leave at a moment’s notice. This incoming storm is promising. All I need is a lightning strike to hit that rod over there, and my test will be complete. We’ll wait out the rest of the storm and get out of here as soon as we’re able.”

As she spoke, Tirana moved surreptitiously around the little camp, whispering in enforcers’ ears. She carried a roll of banknotes and slipped a few to each of the enforcers in order to check their hands. Clever woman. Thessa continued, “Thank you all for coming. I know you have your orders, but thank you nonetheless. I hope this becomes an important moment we all remember.” It wasn’t much of a speech. It certainly felt lackluster for a moment that might change the world. She gave them a confident smile and glanced at Tirana, but the master-at-arms was still working her way quietly through the enforcers.

Breenen joined Thessa wearing a soft smile, and shook her hand. She took the opportunity to check his hands – nothing. He said, “I’m glad you’re keeping everyone’s safety in mind. This test, whatever it is, has kept Demir afloat since he returned. He seems to think it’ll save the Grappo. You have my gratitude for that.”

Thessa felt her cheeks flush. “Thank you. I–” They were interrupted by a sudden scuffle, and Thessa turned to find that Tirana had drawn her sword and held it to the neck of an enforcer that Thessa didn’t recognize.

“Thessa!” Tirana barked. “Now!”

They both hurried over, a growing sense of alarm passing through the gathered enforcers. It took several moments for things to calm down enough that they could talk over the wind. “What’s going on?” Breenen demanded. “Why is your sword out?”

“Because,” Tirana said, “his hands have the residue of a military flare – a signal left for our enemies to find us. Explain yourself, Kempt!”

The enforcer tried to draw away from Tirana’s sword, his eyes darting everywhere at once. “I don’t know what you mean! That’s just powder from my pistol.”

“Breenen, do you have your shackleglass?” Tirana asked.

“I don’t take it out of the hotel,” Breenen replied with a growing look of dismay. “Do you mean to say Kempt has betrayed us?”

“He killed Justaci for trying to warn me about a traitor, and now he’s signaled to the Grent,” Tirana said. “Do you have anything to say? Lie, and I’ll cut you apart myself. You’ll go under question with the shackleglass as soon as we return to the Hyacinth.”

Kempt’s jaw snapped shut, and he glared around Tirana defiantly. “Piss off!”

Tirana cuffed him across the forehead with the guard of her sword. “Gell, Yants, bind him and keep him under watch.”

Thessa hung back through the whole drama. Even if she was in charge of this test, this felt like something outside of her authority. The enforcers around her muttered and swore, one of them even spitting after Kempt as he was led away. Thessa returned to the lighthouse, feeling a distinct sense of unease. It was one thing for Tirana to suggest they had a traitor. It was a whole other to find evidence and make the accusation.

“I don’t like that,” Pari said when they were once again alone, scowling at the wall as if she could see through it to the enforcers gathered outside. “Glassdamn. I know that the guild-families spy on each other all the time, but is this whole thing really worth it? Did he really push that enforcer off the cliff the other night?”

Thessa glanced at the phoenix channel, remembering what she’d told Demir – she would risk her life to gain just a few days. “Yes,” she answered, “it’s worth killing over.”

“Well, they’re not killing us,” Pari declared, drawing her belt knife and checking the blade. “I’ll keep watch tonight, here at the door.”

Thessa hoped they’d be on their way back to Ossa by then. From what she knew of the storms here at the Forge, they blew through hard and fast. She paced the lighthouse floor, thinking. Who was Kempt signaling to? Did anyone see that flare? If he was working for the Grent then why did he leave the door open for the Dorlani back at the hotel? None of it made sense, and it made the Forge seem even more hostile and cold.

“Lady Foleer!” Tirana suddenly shouted, barging into the lighthouse, the door banging open. She paused, her eyes wild and her hand on her sword. “We just spotted dragoons in mercenary colors. There’s a whole company of them, and they’re heading right this way.”

Thessa followed her out to the southern edge of the Forge, looking out over the scrubland between here and Harbortown. She couldn’t make out much of anything but a little bit of movement off in the olive groves. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Do we have time to run?”

“We’ll be twice as vulnerable on the open road.”

They were joined by Breenen. The old concierge wrung his hands as he stared out toward the south, and Thessa wondered if he regretted leaving the safety of his hotel. “We should barricade the path up to the Forge,” he suggested.

Thessa squeezed her hands into fists until it hurt, measuring her breaths until she realized that both Tirana and Breenen were staring at her. Glassdamnit. She was in charge of a phoenix channel test, not this. It felt like the attack on the Grent Royal Glassworks all over again and it nearly made her lose her nerve. Gathering what reserves of courage she had left, she said, “Breenen, send one of your enforcers on horseback to Demir. He’s on hand for this exact reason. Tirana, barricade the path.”

“We only brought twenty rifles,” Tirana said in dismay. “We were expecting the Dorlani, not actual cavalry.”

“Twenty rifles will have to do.” The wind continued to pick up, and Thessa thought she heard the rumble of thunder.

To Thessa’s surprise, the mercenary dragoons didn’t seem to know what to do with this small group of guild-family enforcers camped out on a desolate rock miles from the city. They approached cautiously, riding about the entire area as if checking for spies or reinforcements, before they officially took control of the carriages and horses that the Grappo enforcers had been forced to leave on the mainland. They corralled their own horses and then set up a cordon around the approach to the Forge, effectively cutting Thessa and her companions off from escape.

There was something frightening about the slow, deliberate way in which they worked. It felt very professional and only made it harder to watch them helplessly from atop the Forge, knowing that the phoenix channel expedition was completely trapped. When one of them finally came forward – an officer by his epaulets – he marched up the approach until he was just below the rocks and empty crates Tirana’s enforcers had used for their barricade.

“Ossans!” the mercenary officer called. “My name is Captain Hellonian of Kerite’s Drakes. I am obliged to inform you that you are inside of an active war zone. If you will hand over your weapons and come down from there peaceably, we can take you into custody and make arrangements for your ransom.” It sounded almost gentlemanly, as if this were just a bit of bureaucracy for them all to go through so they could go home.

Thessa knelt behind the barricades with Tirana and Breenen. “What do you think?”

Tirana shook her head. “We have a very defensible position, but they outnumber us four to one. Maybe they’ll attack. Maybe they’ll take our carriages and horses and leave us here under guard. It’s impossible to tell.”

“If they take us into custody,” Breenen said with a grimace, “it’s hard to tell what will happen. If they ransom us to Demir, we could be free in days.”

“And if they don’t ransom us?” Thessa asked.

Breenen grimaced. “They’ll ransom us. We have no value beyond that.”

Thessa bit down on her tongue until she tasted blood. Was she even capable of surrendering? “The last time soldiers took me into custody, I wound up in a labor camp. I’m not doing that again. If they find out what we’re guarding, they won’t give it back. They won’t give me back.” She wrestled with herself, trying to decide on the right course of action. She was surrounded by enforcers, not soldiers. Their lives might rest on whatever she said next.

“Did you get a message off to Demir?” she asked Breenen.

“I did. It should have already arrived.”

She turned to Tirana. “You’re the only one here with actual military experience. Can we hold out long enough for Demir’s people to arrive?”

Tirana squinted down at the officer below them, who tapped his foot impatiently. “I think it’s a bluff. I think Kerite saw that flare early this morning and sent someone to investigate. Captain Hellonian isn’t going to sacrifice lives just to capture a bunch of trapped enforcers.”

Thessa considered her options once more and took a deep breath before she stood up. She addressed the mercenary officer. “This is a scientific expedition. We were here before we knew it was a war zone. I suggest you leave us in peace, and I give my word that we’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

The captain looked unimpressed. “A scientific expedition is not immune to the rules of war. Surrender immediately so things don’t have to get nasty.”

“There are no rules of war,” Tirana whispered beside Thessa, rolling her eyes. Louder she said, “We’re civilians. You’ve got nothing to gain from forcing our hand.”

“You do not surrender, then?” the captain asked.

Thessa and Tirana exchanged one last glance. “No,” Thessa declared. “We do not.”

The captain pursed his lips and looked along the makeshift barricades for several long moments. He sighed and tugged at his riding glove to remove it, then held up his hand with the back facing them. Tattooed where guild-family members had their silic sigil was a small knife with a pink razorglass blade. “Does this change your mind?”

Thessa exchanged a glance with Tirana. “Why would it?” As the words left her mouth, she saw some movement in the corner of her eye. Several of the Grappo enforcers suddenly turned their pistols, pointing them at their companions. Traitors. The word shot through Thessa’s head in half a moment. She reached for her own pistol, only to come up short as one was thrust in her face.

On the other end of it stood Breenen, the concierge, his jaw set in a sad line of determination. “Yes,” he said loudly, “it does change our mind.”

The entire barricade erupted in chaos.