The Fire Eye Chosen_Sequel to The Fire Eye Refugee Page 6

  Kay surprised both Joah and Vascal’s men by leaping towards them. She skipped the closest, counting on Joah to put him down, and closed with another. She led with an outstretched fist, not needing much force to put a hurt on him with the brass knuckles in place. As his teeth cracked under her strike, she pivoted away, allowing his counterstrike to fall somewhere near her back, hardly noticed amidst the adrenaline rush she was feeling, and went at the third. This one was ready and threw a hard cross, anticipating her aggressiveness. It went over her head as she dropped to a knee, drew her fist back, and slammed it into his shin. He fell clumsily, luckily not on top of her, and she straightened and drove a fist into the joint between his jaw and neck. She heard a snap and he fell to the dusty road. Dead, she was fairly sure.

  Joah had finished the other two and he and Kay locked eyes for a moment. The sounds of additional pursuit were not far off. She looked back at the bar. Vascal stood on the balcony. He was holding her cloak and, as he met her eyes, he brought it to his face and gave it a long sniff. Then he broke out into a smile.

  Kay could feel Joah’s urgency at her shoulder, and she turned away. Together they melted into the crowd on Sethro Street, leaving the injured and the dead behind.

  Chapter 5. Important Work Ahead

  Kay and Joah made their way back towards her office. They were relatively unscathed, though Kay’s hand burned with the remnants of the demonlord pepper and she fought a slight limp, her scraped knee rubbing on torn pants. She was lucky that was all she’d gotten, given how poorly the exchange had gone. Bodies didn’t fall in Celest, especially in daylight, without an investigation. It would be cursory given that the dead were Farrow and the neighborhood was the Lagoons, but she’d have to keep a low profile for at least a few days.

  Kay’s mind was racing. If what Vascal said was true, there was no market in Celest for Jenna’s trafficking. As much of a relief as that was, it was also another dead end in her search. Not just for Jenna, though Jenna had taken up much of her attention since Ewan’s murder, but for all the missing children.

  Of course now she had to add worries about Vascal and his ilk into the mix. Would he come after her where she lived? Where she worked? She’d never considered the possibility of Vascal’s involvement in Ewan’s murder, but should she? She thought on Ewan’s body, the long cut which lined the knuckles on his right hand, the knife wounds in his back. Vascal would have been cleaner. He wouldn’t have left his dead in an alley. But she couldn’t rule him out.

  Kay slowed as she rounded the corner. Three Dynasty soldiers in full uniform were waiting at the stairs leading up to her office. Two stood at rigid attention. The third was aggressively scanning the faces of the crowd as they streamed past on the busy street. The passersby pretended not to see the soldiers. Celest loved its Dynasty but authority was always something to fear. Kay rubbed her burning fingers on her shirt one last time and crossed the street to stand in front of the soldier. He was a full Wrang, the highest order of guard under the Dynasty. He was either bald or had a shaved head. It was oiled and reflected the bright sun into Kay’s eyes as she approached.

  “You are Kay?” he asked in a brisk tone, barely meeting her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me. Your presence is requested at the Palace.” He signaled to the two others to move. They had a carriage ready off to the side.

  “Where’s Yamar?” Kay asked, not quite prepared to acquiesce to the demand.

  “Excuse me?” the soldier replied.

  “Yamar Advoco, with the Wrang?”

  “I was not asking for you to repeat yourself. I know every member of the Wrang. I was merely surprised to hear a question where a simple yes, sir was expected. Get in the carriage.” His voice had hardened and he turned back to stand uncomfortably close to her. When Kay hesitated a beat, he reached out and grabbed her arm. “My orders are to bring you to the Palace. My assumption was that you would be compliant. If that is not the case, I’m happy to force you. I recommend you not pursue that route. Those who are slow to obey their Dynasty sometimes find themselves rotting in a cell for a very long time.”

  “I’m coming,” Kay said, working her arm loose and sneaking Joah a concerned glance.

  “You say that like you ever had a choice in the matter.” He spat on the ground at Kay’s feet and moved to the carriage. “I’ll remember this exchange.”

  “Come on, Joah,” Kay said.

  “He will not be joining you,” the Wrang tossed back over his shoulder. He opened the door to the carriage. “Now get in.”

  She shared another look with Joah. The other two soldiers paced her on either side as she approached the carriage, mounted its few steps and climbed in. The door was closed behind her and the carriage sank with the weight of the three soldiers climbing on the front and back.

  Kay looked out the window as it started to move. She felt like she should send a signal to Joah, but she had no idea what to tell him. As the streets began to roll by, the crowd parting readily for the Dynasty crest on the front of the carriage, Kay felt a deep disquiet. She pulled absently at her shirt, wishing she had a cloak to wrap herself in. Since Enos’s infatuation had grown over the past couple years, she’d always been treated with care by the Dynasty when they stooped to acknowledge her. With Yamar serving as a go-between, it was easy to forget the cruelty of the machine in which she was hopelessly entangled. Enos had thus far seemed reasonable, if often misguided and frustrating. But from his position, he could have her enslaved or killed at a word. A word few in Celest would question or even care about.

  She knew she drew eyes as the carriage rolled down the streets. Others would imagine her luck at being linked to the wealth and prestige of the Dynasty. Few would see it for what it was, a rolling cage.

  …

  They arrived at the Palace to greet the early evening. The party crowd, which descended on the Palace every evening the Fire Eye sat open, had started to take over the first few floors. The Palace towered over the city in sleek, bronze stone. Balconies wound around it, creating the impression of a corkscrew facing up towards the heavens. Every floor was loaded with Celest’s most powerful, all scrambling for an edge, a way to cast a shadow over everyone else. Kay hated it, and she hated being led up the broad entryway stairs with her arrogant and insistent escort of soldiers. The doors closed over her like jaws.

  Kay was escorted to the second floor hallway which held the grand entrance to the massive Dynasty library. She’d secured access to the library a few years ago and had befriended one of the scribes during her long search for clues about fire magic and any link to the Fire Eye. She’d found next to nothing. The closest thing of interest had been a book of fiction which described fire-wielding sorcerers who hunted each other across distant lands. Eventually Kay’s scribe friend had moved on to a different position and the others proved less willing to help a wetblood with no last name.

  Kay gave the library a longing look as she was led to a large chamber on the opposite end of the hall. Despite the committee deliberation in progress the soldiers walked in boldly and deposited Kay in the front row, the leader advancing to speak with one of the councilors at the side of the long, curved panel desk that dominated the room. Enos was at the table, his hair carefully combed to sweep across his brow. The more adult hairstyle emphasized his youth. Everyone else at the panel table, none of whom Kay recognized, was much older. She’d caught Yamar lurking at the back when she was led in. She was relieved to see him, though he may still be unhappy with the way she left the fight last night.

  A woman was reporting to the chairman. “I was approached by the Niall family, who are very favored by the Dynasty, and informed their son has been missing for two months. That’s the only report in my district, but I can ensure the committee that I will be conducting an immediate survey of the noble families in Hook Point in case any similar disappearances have gone unreported.”

  “Very good,” the chairman replied. There was a pause, as though he didn’
t know exactly which direction to move in. He turned to look at Enos. Enos in turn glanced at Kay.

  The chairman rotated in his tall chair behind the panel desk to lock his eyes on Kay. “The fetch is finally here? Good.” He looked her up and down. “You are late.” He waved her forward to the center of the room, where she could feel the eyes of the panel.

  “I was unaware of a meeting which required my presence.”

  Her remark was not appreciated by the chairman. “Please confine your comments to answering direct questions. We are already behind.” He shuffled a stack of papers in front of him, selected one, and raised it to eye level.

  “You are Kay, no listed surname, and you own and operate a business on Metres Street in the Grey District?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is the nature of your business?”

  “I find lost children.”

  He was staring at her. “And you are of mixed-blood?”

  “Yes.”

  “List your current clients and the names of the missing you are seeking.”

  Kay hesitated. “With apologies, these are private arrangements and I would need the approval of each client to do so publicly.”

  The chairman glared at her. “This committee has just been formed to address the issue of a large number of missing children within the city of Celest. We have resources far surpassing your own to dedicate to the problem. Do you honestly believe the families affected by this scourge would want the names of their children withheld from the Dynasty? I will ask one more time. List your current clients and the names of the missing you are seeking.”

  Kay thought, feeling pressure from their eyes, men and women unused to waiting. “Cora Creshlan, Melanie Dedite, Marlo Lammet, and Jenna Weiss are my active targets.”

  “Are you aware of other missing children?”

  “Maurice Mynor, Sofi Janes, and Kelvin and Kris Winfrey are all similar cases. I had also heard about the Niall youth.” From the dark look she received from the woman who had originally reported that, Kay hadn’t just gained a friend.

  “Expound on what you mean by similar cases.”

  “Mid to late teens. From upper class families. Missing for over one month. No contact with family. No signs of struggle or violence associated with their departure. No bags packed or obvious advanced preparations.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “There are always missing children. I don’t know that these are connected.”

  “But this is an unusual cluster of activity, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “When, at your best estimation, did the cluster demonstrate itself first?”

  “About five months ago.”

  “What else can you tell us?”

  “About the missing?”

  “We didn’t bring you in to hear your thoughts on decorations for the Closing ceremony, fetch. Yes, about the missing.”

  Kay slowly shook her head.

  “Let the record show that the fetch has no further comment.” The chairman looked around the room. When he spoke again, it was deeper and more formal. “Well, I can see we clearly are dealing with a significant issue. A threat to our noble families is a threat to the Dynasty. It is clear that this committee has important work ahead of it to resolve this grievous injustice and return the missing children to their families. I believe we all owe a debt for the insight and wisdom of Enos Melor in suggesting the formation of this committee and for presenting us with the great honor of serving the Dynasty through a swift resolution.” Each of the panel gave a grave nod in Enos’s direction. “Unless there are further questions or comments…”

  As the chairman lingered for a moment, his eyes darted to Enos for permission. Seeing no objection on the somber face of the boy, the chairman pounded his gavel on the table. Everyone rose. The chairman looked at Kay as he stood. “You work for us now, fetch.”

  Kay could practically feel the leash slip around her neck. A fucking committee? Formed to take her caseload away from her? And to put her under Enos’s thumb? Was there any way this wasn’t a total disaster?

  The chairman was gathering his papers, as were all the others, when Enos’s quiet voice cut through the clamor. “She will join us for dinner this evening.”

  Everyone paused. “Very good, my Lord,” said the chairman. He shot Kay a look of poison.

  As the various executives and nobles on the panel began filtering out, Kay glanced at Enos. He was looking at her curiously as though trying to gauge her reaction, then he gave a scowl and turned to leave the room. As soon as he was gone, an army of servants descended and began straightening the chamber. A butler grabbed Kay’s arm. “Hurry, now, they’ll be seating the Dynasty in thirty minutes. And we’ve got to do something about those clothes.”

  As she was hustled away up the stairs, Kay’s only thought was that the reach of this particular disaster had just grown as high as the Palace itself. The Dynasty would weep if it had a soul.

  …

  Twenty-five minutes later Kay was thrown down in front of a mirror. She’d been dragged up to the twentieth floor of the Palace by frantic servants. Her clothes were someplace else, probably being burned as unworthy rags, and she’d been stuffed into a dress with a corset and wide skirt, the fanciest thing which had ever touched her body. It was pale pink with white lace. She was miserable, bewildered, and more afraid than she’d been walking into Vascal’s office posing as bait. At least she’d managed to hang on to her brass knuckles, which she’d shoved into the painfully tight belt around her waist. She doubted any of the other dinner guests would be matching her in that fashion.

  One of the servants immediately began slathering Kay’s face with heavy makeup, all the while swearing under her breath. The servants were roundly pissed at Enos’s casually dropped invitation and had made it abundantly clear that Kay was inconveniencing them with her inappropriate and unwelcome presence. More than one comment had been made about Kay’s pale skin tone, a barely disguised shot at her mixed-blood. She’d given up on anger. She was purely in survival mode. She would make it through this dinner. And then she would never speak to Enos again. And if he sent more guards to challenge that, well, she didn’t know exactly what she would do.

  There were no windows in the room where she was being slowly suffocated in clouds of makeup so she couldn’t see if the sun had yet set, handing the Fire Eye sole command of the sky. Kay realized her makeup artist had asked a question.

  “Your full name? In case the steward needs to announce it?”

  “Just Kay.”

  “No surname? No title?”

  “No.”

  Kay heard her mutter something unkind under her breath. She leaned in closer and began adding heavy blue eyeshadow to Kay’s left eye. She was just moving on to the other side when a new woman arrived. “Cassie,” the new woman said, “they need you down a level.”

  “I’m helping Miss Kay No Title get ready for her special dinner.”

  “Now, Cassie,” the new woman said firmly. After Cassie left, the woman grabbed Kay’s chin and turned her face towards her. “Oh, that little bitch,” she said and immediately began wiping the thick eyeshadow off. “I’m Yeni. We’ve got about one minute to finish up and then we’re going to run to the sitting room’s back entrance. And hope no one sees us.” She swore under her breath. “This is way too much makeup. The other ladies will view it as a challenge. I don’t have time to fix it though. It would be worse to be late. Much worse. And that was probably Cassie’s plan for you.” She finished wiping Kay’s eyes with a towel and stood. “Now we run.”

  Yeni grabbed Kay’s hand and pulled her down a long corridor. They passed other servants, barely standing aside as the pair ran, Kay struggling to hold the wide skirts in place. They raced up a back staircase before finally coming to a stop in a dimly hall just outside an ornate door. Kay could hear the chatter and clinking glasses of a party on the other side. “You’re slipping in through the back,” Yeni said, “which isn’t a
ppropriate, and you’re the last to arrive before the Dynasty themselves. Can’t be helped. I’ll be back to support you where I can. Good luck.”

  And with that, Yeni opened the door to a room full of mingling nobility and gently pushed Kay inside, shutting the door behind her.

  A hundred conversations all seemed to stall at once as everyone turned and looked at the interloper. There was a lingering silence in which Kay was able to list in her head at least thirty places she’d rather be than here at this moment, starting with the burned out landscape of Ferris, choking on the ashes of her homeland. Then, as if by cue, the conversations started back up again. Kay was frozen to the spot for a long moment, then slowly, carefully, she began inching away from the door towards a wall to set her back against while she dined with the Dynasty.

  Chapter 6. Dining with the Dynasty

  “You are a fetch?” The word was delivered less with distaste than simple awkwardness. The rosebud mouth of the woman who spoke to Kay was unused to forming the language of work.

  Kay nodded. She’d been quickly surrounded by a group of women decked out in a degree of finery Kay had never seen outside of picture books. They’d pinned her to the wall like a butterfly, hemming her in with their wide skirts. Kay forced herself to keep her wineglass by her side. She’d need her wits intact to get out of here in one piece. Besides, she favored gin.

  Her brief hope that she might find an ally in the form of an old client was dashed as she studied the crowd. She knew no one. And something about her, her awkwardness, or her clothing, or the make-up she’d been inflicted with, seemed to be drawing far too much attention.

  The women passed a look among themselves. “I think that’s wonderful,” one of them said, lamely offering what sounded like an apology. “You must meet such interesting people.”

  “We hired a fetch once to get Samael back,” another added. “He’d wandered off with one of our maid’s daughters. The fetch was quite tough. How Samael howled when the fetch dragged him in by his ear and dumped him at our feet. I gave him an extra tip for the service.” They all laughed.