The next day, I wrote a note for the Heir that I would be visiting Julian to go over the case against Will Chase. I meant to leave it in the laboratory, but the way was blocked. A member of the court had Carlow cornered against the door.
“Do not interrupt my work for such a banal request again, Franziska. Such desultory behavior is unacceptable. His Majesty may indulge your appetite for disobedience, but do not forget that you and every other wrought are at the mercy of the court and council. You do as we instruct,” the courtier was saying. “You don’t know how to obey.” She ripped open Carlow’s coat and grimaced at the ooze of ink and blood covering her binding. “It’s unbecoming.”
“My dear Carra Shearwill,” said Carlow with a grin, “I have not even begun to unbecome.”
The courtier stalked away, and Carlow punched a tree.
“Enjoy the show?” she asked.
I shook my head. “She one of the twenty-five?”
Twelve councilors and thirteen courtiers, with the input of the rest of the council and court, controlled what the wrought could do with their wrights. Even the Sundered Crown was bound to prevent her from doing anything untoward. She’d only survived killing her husband and taking over because she had the twenty-five on her side. The split was to keep it fair and make sure the peers and common folk had a say in what work wrought did. “The Crown does some of our bindings now, you know. She decides what new wrought can study. Even before she was the Crown, she was one of the wrought in charge of binding new.” Carlow brought a hand to her chest and closed her eyes. “I wanted to be a healer, but Cynlira needed more noblewrought good at building and supporting industry.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing nothing would ease her pains. She’d no choice in any of it.
“I didn’t want to be a healer and undertaker. I went through it and came out fine. It builds character,” mumbled Carlow in a terrible, nasally impression of the Crown. She took a deep breath, drew herself up, and ripped open the door to the laboratory. “Come on. We have work to do.”
Death or destruction was the only thing that could break the bonds.
“Not today,” I said but followed her in anyway. “I’m going into the city to deal with some things.”
“May I come with you?” Basil, standing at their desk, dropped their quill. “I need to requisition some things, and the walk to the Wheels is so much nicer with a friend.”
“Sure.” I smiled.
They beamed and led the way. By the time we reached Noshwright, Basil was in the middle of a delightful story about their parents, who ran a bar out west. I stopped at the doors to the large inn.
“…my parents are lovely, but I’m thrilled to be away from my more traditional neighbors,” they said softly. “We’ve been cut off from the rest of the world for decades, but people can still be so isolationist.”
Basil’s family had come to Cynlira over a century ago from Krait in the far, far north and been stuck here once the gods left, cutting off Cynlira from the rest of the world with a deep chasm. The court hadn’t made it easy for folks to settle after. Lots of Wallowers still grumbled over it.
“It’s not the same, but Felhollow thinks it’s them versus the big cities,” I said. It wasn’t something I could understand. “If you ever want to talk about it, that is.”
We paused in the lobby of Noshwright. Basil stepped aside, pointedly looking away from me. Julian was too focused on his father to be good company, and Mack was friendly but slow to warm to new folks. The pair were across the lobby, and Julian spotted me first. He darted through the crowd and hoisted me up into a hug. His lips brushed my cheek. I leaned back but didn’t pull completely away. We didn’t have time for this.
“Who’s that?” Julian asked, peering over me at Basil, who was giving me time to say hello by studying old cookbooks on display.
“Basil Baines,” I said and gestured them forward. “This is Julian Chase and Mack Sarclaw, my dearest friends. Basil is noblewrought and as smart as they are nice.”
I tried to infuse the words with the feeling that if either of them said a mean thing, I’d kick them.
“Nice to meet you, Basil,” Julian said and nodded. “Thanks for watching out for our Lore.”
“I think she could watch out for all of us and herself just fine.” Basil laughed softly. “So you’re from—did you make that?”
They pointed at the crossbow hanging from Mack’s belt.
“Yes.” He touched it. The bolts were gone—no loaded weapons in the inn—but I’d never seen Mack without the bow. “Why?”
“That’s a modified wheel lock from an old pistol,” Basil said, and I braced for the rambling. “But you can’t have a spark on a wooden crossbow?”
“Oh no, it’s repeating. I repurposed it. Holds three bolts now and spins.” Mack trailed off, tongue-tied, and rubbed the back of his neck. “My other one’s better.”
Julian tugged me toward the lift. “If that Basil likes mucking about with metal as much as Mack, they’ll be ages. Come up to my rooms. We need to talk.”
His rooms—Julian only inherited them if Will died free.
Until Will was convicted and executed, his properties still belonged to him. After that, they went to the Crown.
“Your father here?” I asked.
Julian nodded, waiting for the clicking of the lift’s counterweights to stop. “Don’t punch him.”
“Why? What’s he done?”
“At least one illegal thing,” Julian said softly outside the door to the rooms. “But on the bright side, he put the old church he bought in my name as a gift, so if everything goes to shit, we can live there.”
“Yes, consecrated ruins are exactly what I want out of a home.” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ignore his easy acceptance of Will’s crimes. “How illegal? My contract hinges on his innocence.”
I had found nothing that made him guilty of treason; I had found plenty of things that made me feel guilty about helping him. There was a healer in Ipswit he’d fired for asking about injured factory workers being let go, the hours in a munitions factory at the edge of the Wallows had been lengthened, and the noblewrought in charge of the powder had been reduced from three to one. It was a recipe for disaster.
It was unconscionable. It was not illegal.
“Not terribly,” said Julian. “Only some tax evasion. Not enough to warrant sacrificing him, certainly.”
“Well,” I said, “if it’s only tax evasion.”
Julian shook his head and nudged me through the door. “It’s not, and you’re not going to like it. I went through my father’s ledgers.”
“Which ones?” I asked. The Heir hadn’t let me copy the evidence against Will, but he had been forthcoming. “I have copies of the relevant ones, and while tax evasion seems likely given the numbers, you’re right—it’s not enough.”
“Trust me,” he said, “you haven’t read these.”
The quarters had been transformed. Papers, ledgers, and pistols littered every surface, tepid cups of water teetering atop the listing stacks. The dining table had been covered in a map of Cynlira, pins marking a handful of spots, and Will Chase leaned against it. Nineteen years older than us, Will had always seemed jovial and untouchable, the sort of happy only a sudden windfall could produce, but he had aged these last two weeks. His blond hair was hoary, and the wrinkles above his brow were crevices. He smiled though.
“Lorena!” His arms opened wide and, enfolded in them, a part of me I thought I had snuffed out longed for the embrace to last. “My savior. I can never thank you enough, my dear girl. You didn’t have to do that.”
“You helped me when I moved to Felhollow,” I mumbled into his shirt. “It was the least I could do.”
I’d thought of him as family, and he’d been breaking the law the whole damned time, putting us all in danger.
“And you did a great deal.” He patted my arm and sat me down in one of the clean chairs. “Now, I hear that you have been contracted to His Majesty?”
I nodded. “He’s attempting to replace the Door with something that doesn’t require sacrifices.”
Julian sat behind me, and Will before me. He laced his fingers together, chin balanced on top.
“The council had gotten wind of such research, and it is troubling,” said Will. “We had hoped he wouldn’t do anything so dangerous.”
That hardly seemed right.
“My contract with him concerns your trial.” I glanced at the papers near me—they were business records dealing with wages and expenses. “Did you not pay your taxes?”
He had the decency to flush. “I made a mistake after purchasing a new plot of land on the border between two holdings, and unfortunately, the peer has been unforgiving.”
Of course they were.
“It’s not like he couldn’t or wouldn’t pay,” said Julian. “He doesn’t have access to his assets since he’s set to stand trial, so he can’t.”
“That can’t be it.” I gestured to the map of Cynlira. “I’ve read through the documents they’re considering evidence. It’s like slogging through mud, but there are things that would worry the court. You bought a munitions factory and bought up a bunch of land. It’s like you’re making a move to buy into the peerage or establish your own holding.”
It wasn’t unheard of, but it was expensive. The court loathed that it was even an option. The last holding to be established was Hila, and then its leaders had fought for independence from Cynlira.
“Even if I were, it’s not illegal.” Will smacked the table. “Only treason, mass murder, and rape are punishable by sacrifice, and I’ve done none of that. The court’s just threatened by council members broadening our horizons.”
“Since when does the Sundered Crown need a reason?” muttered Julian.
I glanced back at him. “I’ve met her, and judging by what I saw, she doesn’t. She prefers having one so no one can challenge her. As far gone as Cynlira is, if she broke the rules so blatantly, they’d stop her because it would mean she could the same to them.”
Following the rules most of the time kept people on their toes.
Will paled, and Julian sucked in a breath.
“You met her?” he whispered.
“Can you think of nothing she would consider treasonous?” I asked them both, desperate to forget the way I could still feel the threat of her gun against my ribs. “You’ve increased rifle production, but that’s hardly news. The current model breaks often enough, and bandits are getting worse in Felhollow. That we can justify.”
“If it’s not illegal, it’s not too unscrupulous,” said Julian. “He’s playing by the rules. The court can’t blame him for that. No justice to be had trying him for things that are legal.”
I gripped my hands together, nails digging into my palm. Laws were not justice.
“I don’t care what unscrupulous things you’ve done, but you have to get it all together and make sure it’s legal,” I said. I did care, and I hoped Julian hadn’t already forgiven the legal but immoral things.
“Good lie. You’ve the mettle of Mori and the sense to deal with folks even when you hate them,” Will said so quietly I was sure Julian didn’t hear. “Dualwrought and clever. Dangerous combination.”
I shuddered. The door to the rooms opened. Mack stood on the threshold, a tray of small lemon cakes in his hands and his bow gone. His locs were bundled up atop his head like he always did when working.
“Mack!” Will leapt to his feet. “Good. We were finishing up, but you can help me finish listing all the raids in Felhollow from this last year. We need to justify why Felhollow needed guns.”
Will was hiding something, and I had to find out what before he got us all killed.
I rose. “I should go. I still need to get some work done today. How’d Basil treat you?”
“I don’t know what happened,” Mack said. “They asked to see the crossbow and we dismantled it, you know, to see the wheel lock, and then there was tea in front of me and I’d already told them my favorite kind. Then there was cake and they remembered they had to hit the market, so I said I’d take it up here.”
“Basil’s like that.” I grabbed one of the little cakes. “They’re the sort of chatty that makes other folks chatty. Even Carlow likes them.”
She didn’t mock them at least, which she did to everyone not royalty.
Julian grabbed my hand and held me back. “Lore, I want you out of here as soon as you can be.”
“I can’t break the contract,” I said.
“We’ll find a way,” said Julian. “We’ll find a noblewrought who can do it. This is too dangerous for you.”
I shook my head. Julian would never understand the part of me that wanted to stay and learn what I had denied myself. Mother had always said I was better off alone, but Basil, Creek, and Carlow were like me. They understood how it felt to break yourself down for people who would never do the same for you. Even the Heir, for all his posturing, understood the dark part of me that wanted more.
It was why he hadn’t included my future in the contract. I would never be able to leave now that I knew what living and working with other wrought was like.
“I cannot leave,” I said slowly, “but I will be safe.”
Mack swallowed and kissed my forehead. “Willoughby seems to think the Heir wants to free the Vile. Be careful. That boy’s dangerous.”
Everyone in this damned city was.
“Don’t worry,” I said and dragged my hands over my face. Mori would be the death of me. “I have a plan.”