The Fire Eye Refugee Read online

  “Want me to follow him? He’s alone.”

  “No, he’s probably headed back to his boss. We might soon have competition on this job.” She turned and looked at Joah. “What did you learn on Ban Terrel?”

  “Just public record stuff. He’s a real recluse. I’m surprised he met you in person. Lives in the Apex. Made a fortune backing military interests. I understand it’s hard to get access to him. I could find out more tomorrow.” When Kay didn’t respond, Joah asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “Yamar didn’t ask me about Reagan. I find that surprising. I left him out cold and he was able to keep it from his bosses no problem?” She fell silent, ruminating.

  Joah waited for a while, then began fidgeting. He was never one to sit still long. “So what next?”

  “Let me buy you a drink. After that, let’s go pay a visit to House Renlan, see how they’re mixed up with the Creep.”

  Chapter 11. The Servant’s Entrance

  It looked as though the Renlans were hosting. The mansion was well-lit. A line of carriages had parked around the block. A few late arrivals entered through the front. Kay watched a pair of well-dressed men present a paper invitation to the security at the door. She and Joah were tucked away, hidden by the many pockets of trees the current landscaping trend called for, scattered in the nooks and crannies of the brick walls lining the street. Plenty of shadows to hide in on the street, but the mansion walls were topped with lamps, making the grounds just as secure as the entryway. The Renlans must be in some favor with the Dynasty, the house being both sprawling and well-maintained. Based on the number of carriages there might be somewhere around two hundred guests inside.

  “It’s about dinnertime, isn’t it?” Kay asked Joah. “I wonder what they’re serving.” They circled around towards the back of the house. The servant’s entrance was always the weak point for security. A gathering this large would have to bring in catering services to support the house staff. That meant new faces.

  As expected, the rear of the house was bustling and well-lit. An exterior kitchen had been set up in the carriage yard and a stream of servers bearing silver trays were loading and unloading plates. There was a single guard at the door from the street. As Kay watched, he checked a staff’s card.

  She looked around until she saw a puff of smoke coming from a small tree grove near the entrance. She walked over there and found a server slouched against a tree, smoking a cigarette. “How’s it going?” she asked as she leaned against the tree across from him.

  “Fine,” he replied, bored. “We’re through the first three courses. They’ll slow down with the main. Not big drinkers.” He took a couple drags.

  “Who are these guys anyway?”

  “Ari said they’re some society. They call themselves Red Canopy. Mostly old guys.”

  Kay had no idea who Ari was, but she remembered Red Canopy from Abi’s briefing this morning. The anti-immigration group that made it onto the special council. Was this society and the Fire Creep connected somehow? She would have been doubtful a couple days ago but the SHE MUST STAY LOST message hinted at some sort of link. Kay needed to get inside. And keep her face hidden. A group like this might not like having a mixed-blood in their midst.

  “I lost my security pass. Are they being jerks about it?” Kay asked.

  The server looked at her a little closer, then at Joah, who was standing nearby. He tensed up. Slowly dropped his cigarette and ground it out. “A little bit. Look, I need to get back.” He turned.

  “How much are you making tonight?” Maybe he could tell she was mixed-blood even in the dim light. More likely it was Joah hovering, spinning his silver watch around his hands again. And neither of them in uniform. The server wore a black jacket and white shirt. Kay and Joah were both wrapped in cloaks.

  “Not much.” He was starting to back away. “I just…I need to stay out of trouble.”

  “Me too,” Kay said. “How about ten gold for the pass? Go home and enjoy the rest of your evening.” She pulled a handful of gold out of her pocket.

  His eyes took it in, looked at her and then again at Joah. He shrugged. “My name stays out of whatever this is?”

  “I don’t know your name and I don’t want to.”

  He took the gold and handed her a small paper card. His pass. He gave them another look then backed away.

  “You should have taken the jacket,” Joah said after the server was out of sight.

  Kay was studying the card. She shrugged. “If I need one I’ll find it. I’m going to go ahead.” She handed her cloak to Joah. Which meant parting ways with her baton and jars and entering the house unarmed. Just a handful of gold in case she needed to buy her way out of a corner. “Find another pass and catch up if you can. Will anyone recognize you here?”

  “I doubt it. I would hope my parent’s circle wouldn’t overlap much with this one.”

  “Good.” Kay straightened her shirt. It was black, at least, and might pass as an approximation of a serving uniform at a glance. “I can’t imagine anyone would know me. Unlikely they’re hiring mixed-bloods. See you on the other side.”

  She walked up to the gate. The security guard barely glanced at her tag. She slid into the bustling group of servers, relieved to see there was no single standard uniform. She could pass if she kept her head down, hid her features with her hair a bit. She wanted to get into the main room and hear whatever talks they were having.

  Kay walked up to the tray prep area. A stream of servers were grabbing large silver trays loaded with plates, shouldering them, and heading inside. When she got to the man setting the trays, he stopped, gave her a flat look. “What?”

  “I need a tray.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I was on the other side. Ari said you were behind.”

  He grunted, annoyed, then turned to hand her a tray. “Tell her to watch her own section. We’re fine. Take this to table sixteen.” When Kay looked at him blankly, he sighed, pointed to another server ahead of her. “Just past where he’s headed.” Kay gave a smile and put the tray on her shoulder.

  No one glanced at her as she made her way into the kitchen. There was a short flight of stairs just beyond. Kay struggled with the tray a bit. This job was new to her. But she leveled off and started making her way down a long and busy hallway. The tray blocked one side of her face. She let her hair hang down a bit, covering the other side. She ignored the quiet banter of the idle servants on either side. The service was slowing. She followed the man ahead of her through a doorway into a ballroom. There was a stage at one end and an older man was giving a passionate speech, punctuated with jokes that drew laughter from the large crowd. They were universally old and well-dressed Gol men, seated around tables in groups of ten. Lots of candles but the chandeliers were hung high and the room was dim, to her relief.

  She weaved through the tables, trying to keep her face blank while she listened to the speech. It had devolved to a series of thanks to various supporters, none of whom she recognized. The server she’d been following stopped and she gave him a bump to get his attention. “Where’s sixteen?” she whispered. He gave her a dark look then gestured towards a nearby table.

  The speaker was leaving the stage to modest applause as she neared the table. She approached from the back and none of the men turned their heads as she began putting down plates in front of them. There was a buzz to the room as the master of ceremonies took the stage.

  “Our next speaker doesn’t need much in the way of introduction.” The voice of the master of ceremonies carried to every corner of the room, over the clatter of fork on plate. “To call him a great mind would be a disservice. Because there are many great minds among the Gol. They have helped shape us into the greatest people. No, he is not just a great mind, he is a doer. A man focused on guiding us to greater heights. To solving the problems that plague our society. A man so fearless, his work does not stop within these walls. He has walked among the Farrow, the greedy scum who threaten our peace an
d prosperity. He has walked among the Winden, the violent animals who know nothing beyond the end of their knives. And he has returned to Gol, bearing a fresh vision for the glorious sustainment of our Dynasty. A vision of purity. The chance for all true Gol to rise and take our place among the Red Canopy. Gentlemen, I present the reason we are here tonight. I present our champion. Doctor Banden Milo has returned to us.”

  Kay straightened to watch the stage as all the men around her rose to their feet. There was thunderous applause as the new speaker took the stage. At first glance there was nothing striking about him. He could have sat down at any of the tables and vanished among the older Gol men. He wore tinted spectacles, making his eyes appear like dark holes from a distance. Grey hair, thin face. His mouth flashed bright teeth as he smiled, acknowledging the crowd. He was shorter, but made sharp and powerful movements as he took the podium. He wore a black military-style uniform, some ornate grey decoration in Dynasty patterns.

  From somewhere, not far behind her, through the applause, Kay heard the sound of a glass breaking. She turned, eyes wide, to see Joah staring at the stage. The broken glass was at his feet. His expression was of horror.

  Joah had followed her fearlessly for the past three years, ever since she’d pulled him out of that fire. He never lost his sly grin. He’d helped her drag young girls out of brothels, men with knives on all sides. He’d entered the meanest drug dens by her side, never flinching at the threats, implied and real. She’d seen him kill without blinking, come to her side against impossible odds. But she had never seen this expression on his face. He was completely unnerved, completely lost and afraid. The desperate face of a child alone in the dark.

  The applause had hidden the sound of the breaking glass from most, but Joah was still getting some looks. Kay moved towards him as quickly as she could, weaving through the rapturous crowd, thinking as she went. There was only one person who could provoke this reaction. It seemed the doctor, the one who’d plagued Celest so many years ago, preying on those of impure blood and relations, had returned. And been named as Banden Milo. Back from his glorious time with the Winden, maybe aiding in their slaughter of the outmatched Farrow army.

  His absence had been a relief to her. With him gone, when brought on to find a missing child over the past couple years, her first thought didn’t have to be maybe the doctor got them. It had been the doctor who led her to Joah, or maybe the other way around, but the first time she’d ever laid eyes on Joah was in a fire in a room next to Sara’s body. Kay had taken his hands and led him out of there. She needed to do it again, before he was recognized by the man who killed his young lover and left him for dead in a burning house.

  Kay reached Joah, grabbed him by both hands and gave them a quick squeeze. “Come with me,” she said, her voice cutting through the applause. At least enough that Joah started moving. They got looks but drew no followers as they headed towards the back of the room. It was quieting as the doctor began speaking.

  “My friends,” he began in a strong voice, “make no mistake. These are dark days for the Dynasty.” He spoke in short bursts, a calm tone that still reached every corner of the room. “We face a great threat. A threat the Red Canopy must be prepared to act against.”

  “You need to get out of here.” Kay was pulling on Joah’s shoulder. He kept staring at the stage, transfixed. Kay jerked his hands closer to her. He finally looked at her.

  “Kay, it’s the doctor! The one who killed Sara!”

  “I know. And we’ll find our time to get some justice for her. But for now I need to learn what I can. There’s a chance, slim I know, but a real chance he might recognize you. We can’t have that happen.” Joah was protesting but she grabbed his shirt. Too many people were looking at them, the room quiet aside from the doctor’s speech carrying over the tables. “Listen, I need you to leave. Now. Get our stuff from wherever you hid it and wait for me well clear of this place. I’m serious, Joah. Do it now or we’re done working together.”

  Kay could see him struggling, but her words finally got through. He looked back at the stage, raw hatred on his face, then shook his head and turned to leave. Kay watched him go, seeing enough confidence in his stride that she was hopeful he’d make it out. That was what Joah did. Made it out of tight squeezes. Usually raising fewer alarms than Kay did. Speaking of which, she’d attracted too much attention dealing with him. She needed to move again.

  It was easier to make her way through the crowd now that everyone was sitting. She crossed the room and put a wall to her back. There were a few doors nearby to serve as potential exits. From the quiet, unlit spot, she was able to observe Doctor Banden Milo’s speech.

  Chapter 12. They Call It New Farrow

  The doctor was well on his way, fired up. He stood at the center of the stage. Though he stayed still, the flickering candlelight on him gave the impression of movement. The lights of the ballroom were reflected in his dark glasses as he orated. “The Gol live in a garden. A paradise favored from above. The Fire Eye casts its gaze on our garden every year. Tall trees stretch towards it. But make no mistake, my esteemed colleagues, our favor does not go unnoticed. There are those who seek to corrupt and despoil what is ours. We of Celest sit among the branches of our great tree, resting in our favored light, while predators enter our garden and gather at the base.

  “Some would have us lay down blankets. Make the predators feel at home. Give them comfort and shelter. Ignore the violence they visit upon others in the garden. Ignore them as they dig up our seedlings, poison our roots with their filth, and wait for their opportunity to crawl up to the low-hanging branches. Ignore their obvious ambitions to seize limbs meant for the Gol and the Gol alone.

  “Before we know it, mistrust will rule the branches. We will question our neighbors. We will fear each other. We will divide. And that, my friends, is exactly what they want. They want our fear and doubt. They want our hesitation. Our inability to do what is necessary to shut off the garden and drive the predators from their unearned perch. To sow this doubt, they put on the faces of lambs. They pretend to be peaceful. They pretend to be weary of war, though they still reek of it. I urge you to not be fooled. Once you have seen the blood-hunger, you cannot unsee it. I have been a witness to horrors. I have seen the battlefields. I have seen the devastation left behind. It has no place within our garden. We must act decisively, and now is the time. For once they are in the garden, they will not stop until they challenge us for the highest perch, steal every opportunity from our children, quietly consolidate the power that was once ours and ours alone.

  “Many are already in. The Dynasty has permitted some of the low to live among us. There are no restrictions on wetbloods, an abomination. They prepare the way for their brethren. Make no mistake, these are not the meek and helpless at our gates. These are the hungry and vicious, posing as rabbits when they are foxes. Posing as lambs when they are wolves.”

  He paused and looked around the room. “They have taken to calling their camp New Farrow. Had you heard that?”

  Kay squirmed uncomfortably as the crowd, silently mesmerized up until then, began vocalizing. There was a loud murmuring of anger at the revelation.

  “That’s right,” the doctor continued, “they believe this is their new home. They would rename Celest. They would remake Celest! In their foul image!” The doctor was getting more animated, beginning to pace the stage. “They will poison our garden. Destroy our trees. For a time they will perch on the highest branches and howl at the Fire Eye. But the leaves will die. The branches will dry and crack. Soon nothing will grow. We will live in a desert. And the Fire Eye will turn its gaze elsewhere. That which has made us special and unique will die. For no reason other than to salve the weak consciences of those among our society who cannot see the threat before them. In the false name of kindness, the name of charity, we will hand over our future, the garden we have built, to the low bloods at our gates. And all they will have had to do is ask. To lose a war, to fail to protect their o
wn meager garden, and to stumble here and ask into ours. And we will hand them everything. And we will lose everything.”

  He stopped moving. “Our platform is simple. Keep the gates closed. Expel the treasonous wetbloods. Drive the Farrow off our lands, out of our garden. Let them find their own. We are the Red Canopy. Our vision is clear. The Dynasty red canopies our garden now, the way it should be. We wish to keep it that way. We love our land, our city, our people. We wish to keep them safe and pure. And we are prepared to fight to do so.

  “I have not been among you recently. I have traveled outside the garden. And I can tell you that what I saw was horrifying. If any one of the Dynasty had seen a tenth of what I have, they would be calling for higher walls. But they have not seen it. They do not know the evil that comes. And we must guide them. We must be strong. In my return, I have been uplifted. I have seen your strength. I have seen what you put together. I have met the wise, successful, and pure men who have contributed to Red Canopy over many long years. And I have met the brave young men of Red Canopy. Our bravest have formed a militia to strike fear in the hearts of our enemies. They call themselves the Straps. And they have done deeds in the name of Red Canopy. Just last night, I was with them as we burned down several buildings in the Shallows. Buildings intended to house the refugees and facilitate the start of a New Farrow inside our walls. A place of shelter for the predators inside our garden.

  “I have been asked to lead the Straps. I am honored to do so. We cannot pretend the predators will leave without a fight. There will be bloodshed. The Farrow would prove no match for Dynasty troops like the Wrang and the Home Guard. But not all fighting will be in the light of day. The Farrow and their wetblood allies are crafty. They will attack from the shadows. And we will be prepared for them. When we meet, we have youth, strength, and purity on our side. And I believe events will be set right. I believe the Dynasty will make the right decision. I believe we will be recognized and rewarded. Once the Farrow threat has passed, the Dynasty will better understand the wisdom of our ways. They will give us their ear, and we will work with them to strengthen the gates and root out any remaining corruption. We will cleanse the garden. We will keep our home safe. We will win. We are the Red Canopy. We are inevitable. And I am pleased to join with you.”