When Red saw his aunt, it took his breath away. She looked so much like his mother. Older, of course. Neat and fine in her elegant lacy gown compared to his mother’s flowing dresses and paint-stained smocks. And instead of his mother’s mischievous grin, his aunt had a hard set to her face. But in a thousand little ways and mannerisms, she was exactly the same.
Alash had led them into a formal sitting room with plush sofas and tables made of gold and frosted glass. His aunt Minara sat in a chair, gazing disapprovingly out a window while she sipped her tea. He remembered when he was very young, she would sneak down to visit his mother, even though her father had forbidden it. She was the one who had brought the expensive medicine that had helped save his life.
“Uh, Mother.” Alash glanced nervously at Red and Hope. “I have some guests I’d like you to meet.”
“Guests? You?” she asked, still staring out the window. “I really wish you wouldn’t leave your contraptions strewn across the lawn like that.”
“Their names are Hope and Rixidenteron.”
“Did you say—” She turned to face them. The teacup slipped from her hands and landed on the rug with a muted clatter. “Those eyes…” She slowly stood up, her gaze never leaving him.
“Mother?” asked Alash. “Are you okay?”
“It can’t be…after so long.”
“Hello, Aunt Minara,” Red said quietly.
“Aunt?” asked Alash.
Red hadn’t been sure how she would react. After all, he hadn’t seen her since he was six years old. He’d considered outright rejection, of course. Ignorance, feigned or real. He’d even fantasized a restrained pleasure at seeing him. But the one scenario he honestly had never considered was a hysterical, sobbing, smothering embrace.
“You poor, cursed boy, where have you been, how have you survived, how did you find us, why have you come?” It came out in one long burst that he couldn’t answer even if he wanted to because his face was mashed into her silk-covered shoulder. Finally she released him. “You’ve gotten so big.”
“It’s been a long time,” he said.
She put her ring-covered fingers on his cheek. “You’ve become quite handsome. Just like your father.” She looked appraisingly at his clothes. “It appears you’ve done well for yourself.” She frowned. “Although you need to get a new tailor. The fit on this jacket is atrocious.”
“They’re, uh, not actually mine,” he admitted. “I borrowed them.”
“Borrowed clothes?” she asked, like it was the most bizarre thing she’d ever heard of.
“From some gaf named Thoriston.”
“Thoriston? Oh, dear God.” She rolled her eyes. “Is he still obsessed with your mother?”
“He’s hosting a show of her artwork at Bayview Gallery, so I suppose he is,” said Red.
“Why on earth did you borrow clothes from him, though?” she asked.
“Because my regular clothes wouldn’t be fine enough for a place like this.”
She gave him a pained look. “Did you become a whore like your father?”
“Uh, no.” Red was having a hard time keeping his composure. It was like she instinctually knew which questions were the most uncomfortable for him.
“Well, thank God for that.” But then she gave him another worried look. “Oh, dear, you didn’t become a painter, did you?” Red couldn’t tell if that was better or worse than whoring in his aunt’s eyes.
“Red— Rixidenteron is a well-respected and highly valued member of his community,” said Hope.
Aunt Minara’s gray eyes focused on her. “And who is this solemn creature? Your beloved?”
“A, uh, good friend,” said Red. It was just one sharp point after another with his aunt, though he was nearly certain she wasn’t doing it on purpose.
Aunt Minara moved over to her. “Yes, I can see why. But there’s a great deal of potential in you, my dear. Really, brighter colors, a touch of makeup, and a more fetching hairstyle would work wonders to catch a man.”
“I won’t need those things to catch the man I’m after,” Hope said grimly.
“Eh, Mother dear, Hope is from the Southern Isles. I don’t think it’s customary for them to wear makeup.”
“The Southern Isles!” Alash’s reaction to the same information had been fascination. But Minara backed quickly away instead. Red was beginning to see why Alash spent most of his time hiding in a workshop with machines.
“She won’t infect you with barbarianism,” Red said acidly.
“She’s quite intelligent and sweet, I can assure you, Mother,” added Alash.
Red wasn’t sure about the sweet part, but thought it best not to argue.
Aunt Minara didn’t look completely convinced, but she cautiously approached Hope again. “Yes, of course. The colorless hair. The pale skin. I should have known.” She looked Hope over more carefully. “Are all Southern women as thin as you? You look as underfed as Rixidenteron’s mother.” She sighed. “I suppose that’s why they call them starving artists, isn’t it? You’re not an artist, are you?”
“No,” Hope said quietly, her hand opening and closing next to her sword as if she longed to draw it.
“Yes, I expect they don’t really have culture down in the Southern Isles,” said Minara.
“Mother dear,” Alash said quickly. “Perhaps we should invite my long-lost cousin and his friend to dinner?”
She chewed worriedly on her lip. “Did your grandfather say when he would be done with his meeting?”
“He said he didn’t expect to be done until quite late.”
“I suppose it would be fine if they stayed for dinner, then. But they’ll need to leave after that.” She turned to Red. “I’m sorry, my darling boy. It would make your grandfather terribly cross to find you here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go tell the cook to set a few more places.” She swept elegantly out of the room.
“Sorry about that,” said Alash as he settled into one of the chairs. “She’s terrified of Grandfather. Convinced he’ll throw us out at the slightest provocation.”
“Would he?” asked Hope.
“I don’t know,” admitted Alash. “Honestly, I didn’t even know I had a cousin until this moment.”
“But you’re older than Red,” said Hope. “Wouldn’t you have heard of his birth at least?”
“I confess that all I’ve ever heard about Aunt Gulia is that she was wild and reckless,” said Alash. “That she caused a lot of embarrassment for the family. Grandfather was greatly relieved when she ran away to Silverback to become an artist. And we never spoke of her again after that.”
Red moved to the window, not wanting to look at anyone else. He gazed out at the meadows, watching the fireflies light up as the sky darkened. “After my mom died, a man came to visit. He was dressed in a nice suit. Like this one.” He plucked at his own clothes. Suddenly he didn’t like them as much. “The man offered my father money in exchange for signing a paper that said I was not related to the Pastinas family. That I was not the son of Lady Gulia Pastinas.”
“Damned if you say,” said Alash. “That’s horrible.”
“It was the only time I ever saw my father angry,” said Red. “He didn’t say a word. But his face twisted up and he punched the man in the face. The man left, clutching his unsigned papers in one hand, and his bleeding nose in the other.”
“And your grandfather sent that man?” asked Hope. “Why would he do that?”
“When my mom died, old man Pastinas wanted to sweep all her mistakes away so none would come back to haunt him. And top of the list in mistakes was me.”
“You Northerners talk about being more civilized,” said Hope. “But in my home village, a grandparent would never disown a grandchild.”
“It must be a kind place, your village,” said Alash.
“It was,” said Hope.
“Do you still have family there?”
“No. They’re all dead.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
Red didn’t know how she was able to restrain herself from grabbing Alash and demanding to know where Teltho Kan was. He had to be somewhere in this mansion. Probably with his grandfather. Red couldn’t help but admire her control. He reached out and took her hand. She tensed up for a moment, but then nodded and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. It would be over soon. Then they could get out of this beautiful, airless house.
* * *
They sat down to dinner at a long table covered in a pure white cloth. Servants appeared as if out of nowhere and brought a steaming roast, platters of fresh fruits and vegetables, bread and cheese. The smell of the savory soup alone almost made Red swoon. It had been a day since he and Hope had eaten, and a lifetime since he’d had such fine cuisine. He and Hope attacked their plates with ferocity.
After a few minutes of shoveling in food, he noticed the silence from the other side of the table. He glanced up. Aunt Minara and Alash were staring at them in something very near disgust. Red nudged Hope with his elbow. She stopped and looked over at him.
“I think we’re, uh, not using proper table manners,” he said under his breath.
“Oh,” said Hope. “I read a book on upper-class etiquette, but it was a long time ago. I don’t remember much. What should I be doing?”
“You think I know?” asked Red. “Maybe if we just slow down.”
Hope nodded and sat up a little straighter in her seat.
“So, Rixidenteron.” Aunt Minara still looked a little put off, but was clearly trying to get past it. “What are you doing here?”
“What, I can’t visit my lacy uptown family now and then?” he asked. He kept his tone light, but there was a real challenge in it.
“Of course, my dear,” she said quickly. “But after all this time, I just wondered if you were in trouble. Or perhaps needed money?”
“I don’t want your money,” he said coldly.
“Miss Hope,” Alash said quickly. “What brought you up from the Southern Isles?”
“I grew up in a very remote place. I’d read a great deal about the world, but that’s not the same thing as experiencing it. So I joined a ship’s crew and explored it for myself.”
“Marvelous,” said Alash wistfully. “I would love to sail the seas. See the world.”
“Why don’t you, then?” asked Red.
“It’s not really possible,” he said.
“Why not?” pressed Red.
“Well…,” said Alash, looking doubtful.
“What would be the point?” cut in Aunt Minara. “Everything he needs is right here. His place is at Pastinas Manor. Someday he will be the sole inheritor of the estate.”
“I do have a responsibility to this place,” Alash said. “And of course to my poor widowed mother.”
“I don’t know, she seems to be getting on alright,” said Red.
“It’s bad enough he spends all his time with those damned machines instead of participating in the social events of his peers,” said Aunt Minara. “Please don’t go filling his head with adventures at sea.”
“Furthest thing from my mind, Auntie.” Red gave her a winning smile.
Aunt Minara’s stern countenance grudgingly melted into a smile of her own. “You are so much like your mother. Charmingly incorrigible.” She dabbed at her eyes with a fine silk handkerchief. “I’m…glad you came to visit.”
“Surely we’re not going to send them out into the night after dinner, Mother,” said Alash.
“But your grandfather…” Her face creased with worry.
“You know how he is,” said Alash. “He could be locked away for days.”
Minara chewed on her lip. “I suppose. But we must put them in the north wing, so there’s no chance of him coming across them.”
Alash looked apologetically at Hope. “The north wing is a bit cramped, I’m afraid.”
“I can sleep on the floor if need be,” said Hope.
“Oh heavens!” said Aunt Minara. “The floor? Perhaps that’s what they do in the Southern Isles, but we are not barbarians. Alash just means there’s no four-poster on the bed, and the bath is at the end of the hall rather than in your room.” She turned to Red, giving him a searching look. “And unless you two are married, I expect different rooms.”
Red watched Hope blush, then grinned at Minara. “Naturally, my dear aunt. Wouldn’t want a scandal under the Pastinas roof, would we?”
She tried to suppress another smile, and shook her finger scoldingly at him.
“Excuse me, Lady Havolon,” said Hope. “When you say ‘bath,’ do you mean a bathing tub?”
“Yes, of course,” said Aunt Minara. “After all that travel, I expect you’ll want an extra-long one tonight. I’ll have the servants heat the water as soon as we’ve finished eating.”
“A hot bath?” asked Hope. It seemed to Red that she might be near tears.
“I certainly wouldn’t expect you to take a cold bath, dear,” said Aunt Minara.
Hope gave an audible sigh. “A hot bath would be marvelous, Lady Havolon.”
* * *
While Hope went up to enjoy her hot bath, and Aunt Minara retired for the night, Alash and Red sat in yet another finely furnished room, this one smaller and a little more darkly colored with stuffed leather furniture. A fireplace crackled in one wall.
“This is the manly lacy room, is it?” he asked as Alash handed him a small glass of something brown.
Alash smiled slightly as he settled into the chair across from him with his own glass. “We must seem so terribly frivolous to you.”
“All lacies are frivolous,” said Red. “Not your fault. It’s just the way you were raised.”
Alash stared down at his glass, swirling the liquid in it. “But at a certain point in our lives, we cannot passively allow our upbringing to define us. We must choose it or choose other.” He took a sip.
“More of that science of philosophy you were talking about?” Red took a gulp of his drink and found it much stronger than he’d expected. He forced a smile as his eyes and throat burned.
“I wish I could go on adventures with you and Miss Hope,” Alash said quietly.
“You really could, you know,” said Red. “But it’s not all like it is in books. It can be hard and painful and exhausting. Sometimes you just want to give up.”
“But you don’t,” said Alash.
“Because, cousin, the alternative is death.”
They sat for a moment, both of them staring into the fire.
“Still,” said Alash. “You said it’s not all like it is in books. Does that mean sometimes it is?”
Red had intended to make Alash feel better about being cooped up in this rigid, humorless place. But sometimes he was a weak man. Especially when the temptation was to tell a good story. So instead of begging off like he should have, he allowed himself to smile wide, that old gleam in his eyes.
“Would you like to know the story of how Hope and I started a gang war in downtown New Laven?”
* * *
When Red retired for the evening to the north wing, he discovered that what Alash had called “a bit cramped” was nicer than any room Red had ever seen. The bed had a wrought-iron frame and a thick mattress, a pile of blankets, and so many pillows, Red wondered if there was some danger of suffocating among them. Near the bed was a window that overlooked the grounds, and a small writing desk complete with paper and ink. Red thought it would be funny to write a note to the wags back in Paradise Circle. Hello, fronzies! Just taking a quick break from things downtown. Pastinas Manor is simply delightful! But since none of them could read, he realized it would only be funny to him.
There was a knock at his door. He opened it and saw Hope. Her hair was wet and hung in thick clumps to her shoulders, and her pale face and neck were scrubbed clean. She wore a long red silk robe even more elegant than the maidservant dress she’d worn that day.
He grinned. “That color suits you.”
She gave him a tolerant smile. “Your aunt gave it to me.” She sat down at the edge of the bed. “How long do you think we should wait?”
“For your biomancer to show himself?” asked Red. “Hard to say. I know this can’t be easy for you. Honestly, I’m amazed you’re even sane by this point, having to make polite dinner conversation while the man who murdered your parents is under the same roof.”
“It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “But the bath helped.”
“I never pegged you for one of those bathing zealots,” said Red.
“There was a hot spring at the monastery, so we bathed nearly every day. It became a very soothing activity for me, especially when I was bruised and sore from my training. You should try it.”
“What, tonight?” he asked.
She shrugged. “The water is still warm. It would be a shame to waste it.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Anyway, back to your biomancer.”
“Teltho Kan.” Her face hardened immediately. “We can assume he is meeting with your grandfather?”
“I’d say so. We either wait until they’re done, or we go looking for them, with or without the help of my aunt and cousin.”
“I would prefer not to upset them or put them in danger,” said Hope. “It might be better if you keep them occupied while I go searching for Teltho Kan on my own.”
“Without my help?” Red tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but judging by the way she looked at him, it didn’t work.
“You have helped me so much already.” She reached out and laid her pale hand on his. “This fight is mine alone. I will try to keep your grandfather safe as well.”
“I’m not too worried about that part,” said Red. “I just…” He put his hands on her shoulders, feeling the taut muscles through the thin silk robe. “You can’t leave me behind.”
“I don’t plan to,” she said.
“Not even to death. Keen?”
“I can’t promise that.”
“You can promise you won’t do the deed yourself.”
“Red, I—”
“It’s not that hard a thing I’m asking.” Red pulled her closer, his eyes boring into hers. “Don’t pissing kill yourself.”
“But what if—”
“You won’t fail. Because if this doesn’t work, we’ll find another way. We’ll just keep trying. Me and you, Red and Hope. No matter what, we won’t give up. Ever.”
Hope looked like she was about to say something, but it died in her throat. She nodded her head. “I promise.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “As long as you promise to take a bath. Right now.”
* * *
The next morning Red put on his regular clothes with relief. There was little point in the pretext, and if things went leeward, he might have need of his throwing blades. He found that sometime during the night, someone had washed his shirt and breeches and left them hanging up next to his bed. At first he found that a little alarming, but he had to admit there was little point in taking a bath, then putting on dirty clothes. The bath he’d taken the night before hadn’t been too bad either. It seemed like a lot of trouble, though, just to soak in some hot water.
He also found a tray with breakfast next to his bed when he woke. Warm bread, sausage, and a boiled egg. Eating this early seemed a bit unnatural to him, but he wasn’t sure when his next meal would be, so he wolfed it down anyway.
When he went down to the sitting room, he saw Hope had put on her leather armor. It looked clean of bloodstains, and shinier than before, though. He wondered if she’d somehow gotten ahold of leather polish.
Aunt Minara came in, wearing a large poufy green gown, followed by Alash in a more understated gray frockcoat and cravat. Minara eyed Hope and Red. “Is this what you usually wear downtown?”
“Style is a bit different down there,” said Red, turning up the collar on his leather longcoat.
“Yes, of course.” Aunt Minara walked over and pulled his collar back down, then buttoned his shirt all the way up. She turned to Hope. “Not even a dress, dear? I can certainly find one that should fit you.”
“Thank you, Lady Pastinas,” said Hope. “But this armor is far more practical for my purposes, and it was crafted by the man who raised me from girlhood, so it holds a great deal of meaning for me.”
Aunt Minara sighed. “I trust you’ve eaten?”
“Yes, thank you,” said Hope.
“Then I think we’ve tempted fate long enough. You should be off before my father discovers you.”
“Discovers who?” came a weak, nasally voice behind Red.
Aunt Minara froze for a moment, then a smile popped onto her face. “Why, hello, Father!” Without moving her mouth, she hissed only loud enough for Red to hear: “Close your eyes. Keep them closed.”
Red closed his eyes, and she spun him around to face the voice.
“This poor blind boy that Alash found wandering around outside,” said Aunt Minara. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
“Right it is!” said Alash. “Sorry, Grandfather. I injured his caretaker with one of my confounded machines, you know. Felt terrible about it and brought them inside.”
“Yes, and I know how you hate to be in the presence of those with afflictions,” said Minara. “I thought he might upset you. I was just telling Alash to get rid of them so you wouldn’t have to look upon him.”
“I see. How considerate of you,” said Grandfather Pastinas. The old man’s tone was so careful, Red couldn’t read a thing into it. If he could just see the wrink’s expression, he’d know. Until this moment, he’d never realized how much he’d relied on visual cues to gauge people.
“It is ever a daughter’s duty to consider her father,” said Aunt Minara. “Now, Alash, why don’t you take—”
“And who is this…striking young woman in black with him?” asked Pastinas. “Judging by her coloring, I would guess she is from the Southern Isles.”
“Oh yes, Grandfather!” said Alash. “She is the boy’s guide and protector. Did you know, Southern ladies are expected to wear swords? And that they are not in the habit of wearing dresses?”
“So I see,” said Pastinas. “That would explain why the young woman is wearing a sword in my home.”
“Of course, Father,” said Aunt Minara. “We didn’t want to offend her.”
“Again your consideration becomes you,” said Pastinas. “However, what has not been explained yet is why you think I wouldn’t recognize my own daughter’s bastard simply because I cannot see his telltale red eyes.”
Red’s eyes snapped open and saw his grandfather for the first time. A gaunt wrink with watery eyes and a sneer on his thin lips. His white hair stuck up in odd places, and he had a slight tremor in his hand. Red was still waiting for the scary part.
“This son of a whore is not welcome in my house, or on my property, or within a hundred miles of me!” said the old man, his face screwed up petulantly. “I have allowed him to exist as long as he did not trouble me. It seems I have been too lenient!”
“No, Father! Please!” begged Aunt Minara as she clutched Red to her. “He’s just a boy.”
“Don’t hurt him!” pleaded Alash.
“Silence!” yelled Pastinas. “I will decide his fate, now that he dares to come here and make some claim to this family. Punishment—”
“I’m sorry, can we go back a moment?” asked Red, stepping away from his aunt’s embrace. “What was that bit about you deciding my fate?”
“I am the—”
“Rhetorical question,” said Red. “There is only one wag in all the world who decides my fate and that’s me, keen? Furthermore, there is nothing in this family I want to claim. The only useful thing I’ve witnessed here is my clever cousin, who seems to get nothing but jape for his quality. I’ve made it this far without your pissing money, and I don’t reckon I need it now.”
The old man stared at him in such shock that Red suspected no one had ever talked to him like that in his life. Maybe it was petty, but that made him feel real sunny.
“Then why,” Pastinas said through gritted teeth, “are you here?”
Red saw Hope put her hand on the pommel of her sword. Did she think it was going to come to that? Surely she didn’t expect this old man to attack them. He was nothing but bluster. But then he realized her eyes kept darting to the hallway behind the old man, and that the pommel of the sword was quivering faintly on its own.
“Drown it all, Pastinas!” A voice that crackled like fire came from the hallway. “We have precious little time! Must you get bogged down in family bickering right at…”
A man in a hooded white robe with gold trim stepped into the room. He had his hood up, but Red could see that he had a burn mark on his face. He was focused on Pastinas at first, but when his eyes swept the rest of the room, he froze.
Red heard the hiss of steel as Hope drew her sword.
Teltho Kan grabbed Pastinas roughly by the arm and pulled him in front as a shield. He held his bare hand next to the old man’s withered face.
“One touch, girl.” The biomancer’s eyes were locked on Hope. “You well know that’s all it would take to send this man to a painful and lingering death.”
“To answer your question, Grandfather,” said Red dryly. “He’s the reason we’re here.”
“Let him go, Kan.” Hope’s sword quivered, the tip pointing at him as if straining to leap from her hands. The blood magic hungered for its target.
“Mr. Kan, I demand to know the meaning of this!” screamed the old man shrilly.
Teltho Kan ignored him, keeping his gaze focused solely on Hope. “I confess, while I expected you to track me down again, I did not think it would be this quickly. I have underestimated you once again. But I assure you, it will be the last time I do so.”
“Because there won’t be another time,” said Hope, inching closer, her blade gleaming in the sunlight that filtered through the window. “You can’t hold him and make another jump at the same time.”
“True,” admitted the biomancer. “But I have something else in mind. Something I’ve prepared expressly for you.”
He whistled shrilly. It was answered by a strange clicking roar from outside the mansion. Hope’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Teltho Kan smiled. “An old friend of yours, I think.”
Red saw it a second before it hit—a dark, massive shape outside the window. He had just enough time to pull his aunt to the ground before the glass exploded in a storm of shards. The shape launched through the window and into a sofa, breaking it to pieces. It lurched to its feet, and Red saw that it was Ranking, the wag who had sold out Hope and her captain. Or it used to be him. The last time Red saw him, Ranking had been writhing on the floor of the Drowned Rat, clutching at the stump where his hand used to be. Now, instead of a stump, he had a thick brown claw like a scorpion’s. He was bigger, too. His skin looked like ill-fitting clothes, baggy in places, torn in others. His eyes were a shiny black, and beneath the long mustache, his mouth was only a ragged hole from which hairy mandibles protruded.
Aunt Minara screamed.
“How dare you bring such a creature into my home!” Pastinas yelled at Teltho Kan.
The biomancer laughed and shoved the old man to the ground.
“Until next time, girl!” he said to Hope. “Enjoy your playmate.”
“No!” howled Hope. But before she could run after him, the creature was upon her. She had just enough time to slam the sword back into its scabbard before blocking its attack. The claw crunched into the scabbard’s wood, inches from her face.
“Draw your pissing sword!” yelled Red.
“I won’t lose his trail!” said Hope as she fought off the creature.
“He won’t get away.” Red pulled his aunt to her feet, then turned to Alash. “Get your mother to safety.”
Alash nodded, his face pale as he took his mother’s hand.
Red ran for the hallway, leaping over the fallen Pastinas.
“Stop, Red! He’ll kill you!” Hope shouted.
But Red was already out of the room. He saw a flicker of white disappear around the corner of the hallway and sprinted after it. As he ran, it dawned on him that he was chasing after a biomancer. As he rounded the corner, he thought, Am I completely slippy?
The biomancer was waiting, his hood shadowing his face, his white robe luminous in the dim hallway. Red skidded to a halt.
“Your end is now, fool,” said Teltho Kan as he reached for Red.
But just before his fingertips touched Red’s forehead, he stopped.
“Can it be? A survivor?” He slowly drew back his hand. Then he smiled in a way Red did not like at all.
“We will meet again, boy. For now, sleep.”
He blew a puff of air into Red’s face, and everything went dark.