In Her Shadow(27)

Dux Lucius scanned the letter again – desperate for some explanation, but there was none. He should have known this would happen. Weboshi's disappearance presented the perfect opportunity for his father to make a power play, to capture the city for the Emperor once and for all. But arresting the Abbess wouldn't be enough. No, just because their leader was under arrest didn't truly weaken the cloaked sisters. Arresting the Abbess for Weboshi's disappearance was only the first step. Step two was the riot that would ensue. Accuse the sisters of the abbey of having a hand in orchestrating it. Then suppress their religion. Mass executions would follow. Without a formal power structure to represent Ankshara, a wedding to unite their peoples would be unnecessary.

"Britta," he said. Her name caught in his throat. What was he supposed to do? Arrest her too? There had to be some mistake, someway to talk to his father. "Run," he said, his voice so low he could barely hear himself.

"What?"

"Run, Britta. Run. Hide."

"No–"

"Go!"

She stared at him for a moment, then broke into a run towards the abbey, the one direction he wished she hadn't went.

"With all due respect, sir, should you have let her go?" asked Valex.

Dux Lucius grabbed the boy by the ear. "Don't you have messages to deliver?"

Speaking of which, Lucius hadn't heard anything from the men he'd dispatched to search the docks yet. Not surprising with the gathering crowd down there. Sensing trouble, many ships had slipped their moorings and set out to sea, there should still be plenty for Marcus to search. Most likely, Marcus was too busy with his task to report back. And, Lucius hoped, it was a task Marcus would succeed at.

If Weboshi were found alive and well, Lucius might be able to diffuse the situation at the docks before it exploded. Sure, putting down a riot wouldn't hurt his career – might even enhance it – but Lucius's moral compass wouldn't let him take advantage of the situation so cynically. Which, though noble, wasn't the way the situation seemed to be going. Without having heard from Marcus's cohort, he wasn't sure how much progress was being made. He could send more men to the docks to assist with the search, but that might inflame the situation. Maybe if he had someone with him whose presence would allow extra men to pass unmolested.

Dux Lucius swallowed his groan. If only he'd thought of that before sending Britta away. Given the news she bore about the Governor's orders – orders Lucius hoped to figure out a way to stall carrying out – there was no way the cloaked sisters would let him in to talk to her. What now? He didn't doubt Britta would help if asked, the problem was getting to her. If he showed up with a contingent of soldiers, the abbey would assume he'd come to put the Governor's orders in action. But if he went by himself, it could be interpreted as desertion. That wouldn't just get him cashiered, it would get him executed.

Lucius squeezed the scroll with his father's orders, sorely tempted to tear it up – an act as treasonous as desertion. No, he thought, the orders represented an opportunity. If he could pull it off, use them as a prop in a diplomatic game. . . It might not work, but as the city simmered like a pot ready to boil over, Dux Lucius knew it was his only chance for a peaceful resolution.





Chapter 12


"Did we take her?" Britta asked the Abbess of Night. For the first time Britta could recall, the room was brightly lit. Everything inside it was just as worn down as everything without, but there was a sense of provenance to it all – a sense that these weren't just old things but genuine antiques. How long had they been in the abbey? Did they belong to the Abbess? Perhaps they were gifts handed down from one Abbess to the next. It was hard to say. Had there even been an Abbess of Night before this one? The abbey wasn't much for archives, and the oldest sister besides the Abbess herself was currently missing.

The Abbess of Night pushed a steaming cup of tea across the table. "Please, New Moon. Drink."

"I don't want any tea. I want the truth."

"I've been nothing but truthful with you. Surely I've proven that. So please, do you like sugar? How many lumps?"

"Abbess–"

"Truthful about everything except everything I've lied about." The Abbess lifted her cup of tea and took a careful sip.

"What? I don't – Please. Did we take her?"

"Think it through, New Moon."

Britta yanked the cup off the table, sloshing some of the hot tea on her hand. She didn't care. The anger inside her burned much more than a spot of spilled tea. She tossed the cup against the wall next to the door. It shattered, spilling its steaming contents to the floor. How old had that cup been? How much was it worth? Could it have been sold to repair the structure of the abbey itself? "No! No more games! Tell me: did we steal Weboshi away? No asking me to guess. No trying to convince me to follow a particular train of thought to the conclusions you want me to reach! A straight answer!"

The Abbess of Night set her cup down as gently as she might a baby, as if its sister hadn't just been smashed to a hundred jagged pieces. "We did not, New Moon. I did not take her. The abbey did not take her."

"Then where is she?"

The Abbess of Night's eyes narrowed. "Outside of my reach, it seems."

"You know where she's at."