The Rose Society
Page 47
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“I hope you heard everything I heard,” Magiano whispers as he helps me up. The sheer length of time I’ve had to hold the invisibility over myself has taken its toll, and I feel as if I could sleep for days. I sway on my feet.
“Hey,” he murmurs. His breath is very warm. “I’ve got you.” He glances at Sergio. “Sounds like the hunt for the White Wolf is on now, isn’t it? Well, let’s not make it too easy for the Inquisition.”
I find myself clinging to his shirt. From the corner of my eye, I can still see an echo of Gemma fluttering in and out of the world, barely translucent enough to exist, as if her shadow hadn’t quite caught up with her. Ideas churn in my mind, connecting.
“We have to get to Estenzia,” I whisper back. “Before the Daggers make their move.”
Loyalty. Love. Knowledge. Diligence. Sacrifice. Piety.
—The Six Pillars of Tamoura
Adelina Amouteru
After maintaining my invisibility illusion for so long, I’m exhausted. I am half carried to the outskirts of Campagnia while the Inquisition floods the city’s streets. We finally set up camp some distance inside the forestland along the edges of Campagnia. Here, Violetta unhooks our cloaks and rolls them up for me to use as pillows, then sets about wetting cloths from a nearby creek and placing them carefully on my forehead. I stay quiet, content to let her fuss over me. Sergio takes up watch along the border. Magiano counts out our gold, placing them in meticulous little piles on the ground. Even though his lute stays on his back, he taps the ground with his fingers as if in mid-play.
I watch him halfheartedly, distracted by my own thoughts. By nightfall, papers with my name and description on them will be pinned to the wall of every street corner. Word will get back to the capital before long. I picture Teren crumpling a parchment in his hand, sending out more soldiers to hunt me down. I imagine Raffaele getting word of my presence in Kenettra, of him with the other Daggers, plotting my downfall.
As time goes on, several others from our ship’s crew find us. They come creeping in on silent feet, exchanging nothing but quiet stares with Sergio before acknowledging me. Sergio talks in low voices to a few of them. None are pretending to be mere sailors anymore. I catch glimpses of blades at their belts and boots, and notice the way they move. Not all of them stay. Eventually, they disperse back into the forest, as quietly as they’d come. I want to address them, but something about their interactions with Sergio tells me I might be better off letting Sergio guide them, rather than trying to command them myself.
“There are others in Merroutas who want to join you,” Sergio says to me after a while. “Some have already made their way to the lands around Estenzia. You should know that Merroutas is in turmoil at the moment, as no one is sure who will replace the Night King.” He smiles a little. “Some already think that you rule there, even if no one can see you.”
“Not with this little pile of gold, you don’t,” Magiano grumbles from where he sits counting. “I’m impatient to swim in the Kenettran royal treasury.”
“It seems the Beldish queen is a patron of the Daggers,” Sergio says as he sits beside me.
“Beldain has always celebrated malfettos,” Violetta replies. “Adelina and I considered fleeing there for a while.”
Magiano taps absently at the ground. “Make no mistake—Beldain’s not here to help malfettos out of the goodness of its heart. Maeve is a new, young queen. She’s itching to conquer, and she’s probably had her eye on Kenettra for a long time. Watch. If they kill Giulietta and bring Enzo back, Enzo will be their puppet king. The Daggers will be a new branch of their army.” He winks at me. “And that means no crown for you, my love. A shame for all of us, I would think.”
The mention of the Daggers brings their faces into my thoughts again. I hesitate, then look at Sergio. “How long did you know the Daggers?” I ask. “How did you leave them?”
Sergio pulls out one of his knives and starts to sharpen it. He ignores me for a while. “At the time, they’d recruited only Gemma and Dante,” he finally says. “I was their third. Raffaele found me working on a ship as a rigger after he returned from visiting a duchess in southern Kenettra. I refused him, at first.”
My eyebrows lift. “You refused him?”
“Because I didn’t believe him,” Sergio replies. He finishes with the blade he’s working on and moves on to another. “At that point, I was eighteen and still had no knowledge of my powers. I thought of the Elites as rumors and legends.” He pauses to laugh a little. He tilts his head at Violetta. “It is ridiculous, isn’t it, what we can do?”
In this moment, there is little of the mercenary in him, and he seems like a kindhearted boy. A remnant of who he once was, perhaps. His blade sharpening speeds up. “It took Raffaele inviting me to a dinner to change my mind. Afterward, Enzo demonstrated his ability with fire. They gave me a heavy bag of gold. I suppose I became a mercenary first through them, eh?”
Violetta fiddles with a hunk of dry bread. “And so you joined them,” she coaxes him on.
Sergio shrugs, unwilling to repeat the obvious. “I learned that I was drawn to the sky, to the elements that make storms. I learned how to fight from Enzo and Dante. But six months passed, and still I could not call upon my power.” He stops sharpening his knife abruptly, then plunges it deep into the soil. Violetta startles. “Their training turned urgent, and the way they talked to me changed. After another year, I could tell that Raffaele was having private conversations with Enzo about what to do with me. Gemma and Dante had both displayed their powers so early on that they expected the same from me too.”
“Hey,” he murmurs. His breath is very warm. “I’ve got you.” He glances at Sergio. “Sounds like the hunt for the White Wolf is on now, isn’t it? Well, let’s not make it too easy for the Inquisition.”
I find myself clinging to his shirt. From the corner of my eye, I can still see an echo of Gemma fluttering in and out of the world, barely translucent enough to exist, as if her shadow hadn’t quite caught up with her. Ideas churn in my mind, connecting.
“We have to get to Estenzia,” I whisper back. “Before the Daggers make their move.”
Loyalty. Love. Knowledge. Diligence. Sacrifice. Piety.
—The Six Pillars of Tamoura
Adelina Amouteru
After maintaining my invisibility illusion for so long, I’m exhausted. I am half carried to the outskirts of Campagnia while the Inquisition floods the city’s streets. We finally set up camp some distance inside the forestland along the edges of Campagnia. Here, Violetta unhooks our cloaks and rolls them up for me to use as pillows, then sets about wetting cloths from a nearby creek and placing them carefully on my forehead. I stay quiet, content to let her fuss over me. Sergio takes up watch along the border. Magiano counts out our gold, placing them in meticulous little piles on the ground. Even though his lute stays on his back, he taps the ground with his fingers as if in mid-play.
I watch him halfheartedly, distracted by my own thoughts. By nightfall, papers with my name and description on them will be pinned to the wall of every street corner. Word will get back to the capital before long. I picture Teren crumpling a parchment in his hand, sending out more soldiers to hunt me down. I imagine Raffaele getting word of my presence in Kenettra, of him with the other Daggers, plotting my downfall.
As time goes on, several others from our ship’s crew find us. They come creeping in on silent feet, exchanging nothing but quiet stares with Sergio before acknowledging me. Sergio talks in low voices to a few of them. None are pretending to be mere sailors anymore. I catch glimpses of blades at their belts and boots, and notice the way they move. Not all of them stay. Eventually, they disperse back into the forest, as quietly as they’d come. I want to address them, but something about their interactions with Sergio tells me I might be better off letting Sergio guide them, rather than trying to command them myself.
“There are others in Merroutas who want to join you,” Sergio says to me after a while. “Some have already made their way to the lands around Estenzia. You should know that Merroutas is in turmoil at the moment, as no one is sure who will replace the Night King.” He smiles a little. “Some already think that you rule there, even if no one can see you.”
“Not with this little pile of gold, you don’t,” Magiano grumbles from where he sits counting. “I’m impatient to swim in the Kenettran royal treasury.”
“It seems the Beldish queen is a patron of the Daggers,” Sergio says as he sits beside me.
“Beldain has always celebrated malfettos,” Violetta replies. “Adelina and I considered fleeing there for a while.”
Magiano taps absently at the ground. “Make no mistake—Beldain’s not here to help malfettos out of the goodness of its heart. Maeve is a new, young queen. She’s itching to conquer, and she’s probably had her eye on Kenettra for a long time. Watch. If they kill Giulietta and bring Enzo back, Enzo will be their puppet king. The Daggers will be a new branch of their army.” He winks at me. “And that means no crown for you, my love. A shame for all of us, I would think.”
The mention of the Daggers brings their faces into my thoughts again. I hesitate, then look at Sergio. “How long did you know the Daggers?” I ask. “How did you leave them?”
Sergio pulls out one of his knives and starts to sharpen it. He ignores me for a while. “At the time, they’d recruited only Gemma and Dante,” he finally says. “I was their third. Raffaele found me working on a ship as a rigger after he returned from visiting a duchess in southern Kenettra. I refused him, at first.”
My eyebrows lift. “You refused him?”
“Because I didn’t believe him,” Sergio replies. He finishes with the blade he’s working on and moves on to another. “At that point, I was eighteen and still had no knowledge of my powers. I thought of the Elites as rumors and legends.” He pauses to laugh a little. He tilts his head at Violetta. “It is ridiculous, isn’t it, what we can do?”
In this moment, there is little of the mercenary in him, and he seems like a kindhearted boy. A remnant of who he once was, perhaps. His blade sharpening speeds up. “It took Raffaele inviting me to a dinner to change my mind. Afterward, Enzo demonstrated his ability with fire. They gave me a heavy bag of gold. I suppose I became a mercenary first through them, eh?”
Violetta fiddles with a hunk of dry bread. “And so you joined them,” she coaxes him on.
Sergio shrugs, unwilling to repeat the obvious. “I learned that I was drawn to the sky, to the elements that make storms. I learned how to fight from Enzo and Dante. But six months passed, and still I could not call upon my power.” He stops sharpening his knife abruptly, then plunges it deep into the soil. Violetta startles. “Their training turned urgent, and the way they talked to me changed. After another year, I could tell that Raffaele was having private conversations with Enzo about what to do with me. Gemma and Dante had both displayed their powers so early on that they expected the same from me too.”
