Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(4)

There was a small trunk stowed beneath the cot where he slept. A strong urge to look inside it swelled in her heart. She cocked her head, listening for more creaks on the roof. He had a very light step. But timbers were unforgiving to someone who wished to remain quiet, and these timbers were ancient. She hesitated only a moment longer before kneeling by the edge of the cot and sliding the trunk toward her. She undid the latch—quietly—and opened it. The room was still dark, so it wasn’t easy to see the contents. There was a uniform there, a shirt with a bloodstain on it. And a book tucked underneath.

Cettie’s lips pursed as she drew the book out of the trunk. Her father wasn’t one for reading. She’d never seen a book in his hand, and there were none out on the table. She heard the ominous creak of the boards overhead. He was returning.

She looked at the cover of the small book—a notebook really—and her eyes widened with shock when she realized she recognized it. Her hands began to tremble. It was the notebook that Adam had given her, the one she had lost. Adam had entrusted it to her after receiving his commission to join the Ministry of War as a ship’s doctor. She’d always suspected that her almost-sister Anna had stolen it . . . out of jealousy or some other motive.

What was it doing in her father’s trunk?





CHAPTER TWO

THE MISSION



A shadow spread across the window, blocking the light. Her father had landed on cat’s feet, not making a sound. It was everything Cettie could do not to display any signs of panic. When someone was nervous, there were little signals that they displayed for all to see. Cettie had been trained to counteract these impulses. She had almost decided to roll under the bed and hide, but her father’s instincts were honed to a knife’s edge. He’d probably heard her in his room and had come to investigate.

“What are you doing here?” he asked gruffly, eyeing her with suspicion as he climbed down from the windowsill.

She picked up one of the pistols on his table, examining the length of the barrel. “When is he coming?” She set it down. “The kishion I’ve been assigned to.” Next, she chose a dagger from the table, weighing it in her hand before setting it down again.

“Soon. Why do you care?”

She turned and leaned back against the table. From her vantage point, she could see the little trunk stowed under the bed, just as she’d found it. She’d stashed the book in the pocket of her gown. She folded her arms and looked her father in the eye.

“I want to prepare myself. I wasn’t expecting to be assigned already.”

“Already?” he said with a chuckle. “Your mother was seventeen when she was assigned to her first kishion.”

“Her first?” Cettie asked quizzically.

He walked deeper into the room. “I’m not the first she bonded with, but I am the one who has lasted the longest. It’s dangerous working for her. Let me answer your question bluntly. He comes by zephyr. Tonight.”

That was soon. Too soon. She didn’t feel ready. She set the dagger back down. “Thank you,” Cettie replied. She started for the door but paused, looking over her shoulder. “Did you know her beforehand?” She wanted to keep him talking, to reduce his suspicions that she had invaded his things.

“You mean your mother?”

Cettie nodded.

“Only by reputation,” he answered.

“Do you know where she came from? Who she was before the poisoner school?”

His lips pressed together. He didn’t answer her. She hadn’t really expected him to reveal anything. Cettie’s mother was Lady Corinne of Pavenham Sky. Somehow her mother, a poisoner, had infiltrated the upper echelons of the empire, becoming one of the wealthiest, if not the wealthiest woman in the empire of Comoros. And she had transformed both worlds—in Comoros, she’d killed the former emperor, Richard Fitzempress, and in Kingfountain, she’d helped foment a rebellion that had given power to General Montpensier. The war between the worlds, which had subsided for a time, had begun again, with renewed rage and fire. It had been underway for more than a year, with battles being fought all over Ceredigion, Occitania, Leoneyis, and Brythonica. But not in Genevar. The ones controlling the conflict were reaping the rewards of the violence. The Genevese were in the shadows, using their fleets and influence to protect Montpensier’s crown.

Seeing that her father was no longer willing to speak, Cettie left his room and retreated to hers. Would he search his things to see if she had stolen anything? She had been meticulous about replacing the trunk, but sometimes the littlest things were what gave you away.

As she walked, she wondered if her assignment would lead her back to Comoros. Though that was what she wanted, more than anything, it would be a dangerous thing. One of the girls that Cettie knew had already been captured and killed by Sera’s empire. Killed because she bore the hetaera brand on her shoulder. The same brand that Cettie had on her flesh.

The hetaera brand was bestowed by a Leering, though it was a different one than had been used in the past. The old Leering had rendered a hetaera’s lips poison and made her a vessel for the Myriad Ones. Cettie had been told the new Leering was different, that it gave those who took the vow the ability to control the Myriad Ones. And so she’d taken the vow, only to realize the promises she’d been made were exaggerated. The dark creatures had not left. Would not leave.