Part 1 (1/2)

HAVEMERCY.

Jaida Jones and Danielle Bennett.

To Uncle David, for all the walking and talking.

Jaida.

To Andrew, for not laughing when I said ametal dragonsa Dani.

And to Ellen, without whom this book would never have been a book at all.

J & D.

If it takes a village to raise a child, then it takes an army to write a book, and we couldnat have done this without our army. To those who were brave enough to read this in its earliest stagesa”Susan, Natasha, Yi Liu, Tas.h.i.+na, Sara, Laura, Justine, Mom, Uncle David, Grandma Fay and Grandpa Terrya”thank you for being swift and merciless with your feedback. Many thanks, of course, to our tireless agent, Tamar Rydzinski, to Anne Groell, our editor at Bantam Spectra, for taking a chance on Rook, Thom, Royston, Hal and all the metal dragons, as well as to our copy editor, Sara Schwager, and Joshua Pasternak, who was always kind enough to tell us aDonat panic.a Thanks to both our dads for the straight-talkina; to John Jurgensen at the Wall Street Journal for including Jaida in his article, aRewriting the Rules of Fiction,a which somehow landed us on this path in the first place; to the society of Nitpicky Babes for their sound advice and witty repartee; to Ca.s.sie and Holly, for being our first inspirations; to Claudia and all the fine ladies at Java City, for keeping the coffee coming; to Jonah, for the soundtrack; and to those in our lives who put the right books in our hands when we were the right age. Finally, thanks to the boxers: You know who you are, and where would we be without you?

CHAPTER ONE.

ROYSTON.

That morning, I awaited my arrest in Our Lady of a Thousand Fans. I wasnat alone, but it seemed I might as well have been, for the young man in the bed next to me was asleep. He had no particular reason not to bea”after all, it wasnat his future upon which fell the shadow of impending arresta”and though I found that I could not look at him, neither did I begrudge him the repose.

It was rather a curious situation in which Iad found myself. Truth be told, Iad considered myself clever enough to avoid such entanglements altogether. Yet the problem with doing foolish things was that it was quite often impossible to tell what was foolish and what wasnat until youad swum too far out to turn back again. After that point, it was either carry on or drown.

Of course, you were hanged either way if another man stood up to accuse you of doing all manner of things you were relatively sure you hadnat.

And that was the thing about men: They could so easily change their minds, become frightened of what might happen to them, and throw you to the wolves. If you were very, very unlucky, they might even do all three.

At leasta”if you were more than pa.s.sably wealthya”you might be able to go out in style.

I was waiting that morning for the footfalls I knew were coming. They were neither the trained, delicate rhythms of Our Ladyas skilled professionals nor the uneven steps of sated patrons, but rather those that held all the surety and sharpness of a man of the law. The man who was coming for me was one who did not need to hunt his quarry because he knew very well where it would be. Though my offense was by all accounts a serious one, the way in which it must be handled would demand a touch of finesse. Most political matters did, though it was a philosophy lost on some men.

Despite my a.s.sumptions, I couldnat have said quite what I was expecting, but it certainly wasnat the Provost of the city himself, leaning in the doorframe as though he hadnat a care in the world.

There was a large mirror hanging on the wall opposite the beda”for people who liked that sort of thing, I supposeda”ornately framed in dark cherrywood. So I saw the scene as it must have appeared to him: the lines forming thin and faint at the corners of my eyes, gray hairs glinting at my temples more obviously than Iad have liked in the late-morning sun. I thought ruefully of how little I deserved those marks of age, and how well I had won them, for a man just past thirty-five years of age. Next to me the young man slept on, his tanned shoulders smooth, his mouth open and vulnerable. I tilted my head, fingers measuring the dark unkempt edges of the beard creeping over my cheeks and under my chin.

Iad not had the time to shave beforea”and after, it had seemed like something of a trifle. After my betrayal by Erik, many things had seemed a trifle.

aMargrave Royston,a said the Provost. aYouare a hard man to track down.a aNot particularly,a I said.

His nose wrinkled at the smell of burnt cloves that permeated the air, and I could sense how very badly he wished to tell me to stop smoking. His excellent comportment prevented him from doing so; or perhaps it was his keen attention to protocol. Nevertheless, there were those who believed the Esar had made a grievous error in letting a commoner enforce his laws. The Provost was a man of the Charlotte district, center-born and center-bred. The people liked him because he didnat put on airs, and everyone else liked him because he minded his own businessa”with the exception, of course, of those rare occasions when the n.o.blesse went out of their way to do something exceedingly imprudent or alarming; and then his intervention was required.

There was a bowl carved from black stone on the nightstand, in antic.i.p.ation of the possibility that the wealthy patrons of Our Lady might need a place to put their cuff links or jewelry. I myself had adopted it as an ashtray, a purpose for which I felt it was peculiarly suited.

aYouad better get dressed,a the Provost continued, removing a round, gold watch from his pocket. aThereas a ruling to be had.a aSo soon?a I didnat know myself whether the surprise in my voice was feigned or genuine. I decided on the third option, which was trousers, and got out of bed. aDmitri, I must say the efficiency of this nation in condemning a man is simply astounding.a The Provost continued to examine his pocket watch with somewhat forced interest. aYour duties within the Basquiat will be a.s.sumed by another, in accordance with the sentencing.a aSentencing?a I caught a glimpse of myself again in the mirror, hair dark and sleep-wild, half-dressed, white s.h.i.+rt voluminous and untucked, my nose stark and sharp and the new lines tight around my eyes and mouth. Iad lost my cuff links under a mound of ash. I looked exactly as I felt: a man thrown off center.

aOh. Thereas no official trial,a Dmitri said quickly, casting a glance upward. Finding me more or less decent, he nodded and tucked the watch away into some invisible pocket. aWe just thought it might be time for a little, ah, chat.a His att.i.tude confirmed my worst fears.

We stepped outside together, and I looked about at the city I loved.

Our Lady of a Thousand Fans was situated in the heart of Miranda. Most will tell you itas the palace, or even the Basquiat, thatas the real center of the cityas uppermost district. In truth, it all depends on where youare coming from, or what attracts you most.

You can tell a lot about people by the details they choose to employ when describing Volstovas capital.

If you ask anybody whoas anybody, though, theyall tell you that if you wish to get through the city and not end up hopelessly lost, it isnat at the palace or Our Lady that you want to begin. Leaving from the Basquiat is actually easiest, taking the Whitstone Road, which leads in a counterclockwise direction through aVersity Stretch, past the Rue daSt. Difference and its countless millinersa”elaborate hats being very much in fas.h.i.+on this season, the sort with lace veils, wide brims, and feathersa”along with all the other shops. The Rue is just on the edge between lower Miranda and upper Charlotte, so once youare past the merchantsa quarter youare smack in the middle of Charlotte herself, teeming and fat-voweled and c.o.c.ky. No one much cares what you do in Charlotte so long as youare not doing it to a friend or member of the family. Once you accustom yourself to Charlotteas indifference, she will adopt you as her son or daughter, so long as you look after yourself and donat stray too close to Mollyedge.

It was a principle that could be applied to any of the three sister districts, for each had its own boundaries, as well as its own consequences for dealing with those who strayed too close to them.

The Provostas hansom had windows, at least, and for that I was thankful. I had the odd idea in my heada”pervasive no matter how I tried to distract myselfa”that this might be the last time I got to examine the city I so loved with such reverent attention. Iad had the same feeling with Erik the last occasion Iad met with him, though at the time I hadnat paid my misgivings much mind.

In the end I didnat blame Erik. Volstov was accepting of such dalliances, while Arlemagne took the opposite approach. And Erik was an Arlemagne prince. He was under edict, and he did no credit to his royal family nor to the time-honored tradition of diplomacy for which Arlemagne was famous. On top of all that, we hadnat exactly been carefula”a fact for which I blamed myselfa”making eyes at one another in broad daylight, in the streets, in the middle of the Basquiat. My only surprise was that no one had noticed us sooner.

If I were being ruthless in my honesty, I would admit that it was not the only surprise I had felt over the matter, but I had told myself it was pointless to wrestle with such thoughts beyond what good they could do me. Arlemagne had no understanding of Talents: a magicianas particular apt.i.tude within a given field. The same man who could pull a stream from its bed could not create enough heat to boil water unless he did it the same as the rest of us, with a stove, or by building a fire with his own two hands.

Likewise, a man whose skills lay chiefly with combustion would have to rely on his own considerable charm, rather than his Talent, to seduce any sort of prince.

Erik had capitalized on the ignorance of his countrymen and saved himself a great deal of grief in doing so. Really, it should not have surprised me. He was boundlessly clever; one almost wanted to admire him.

Now, in the absence of what regret Iad not yet allowed myself to feel, I felt an overwhelming sense of loss concerning Thremedon City herself, her twisting uneven skyline and its gentle sloping toward the sea.

We jostled around a corner, the Provost staring at his watch with the keen interest of a man determined not to be late or one who was extremely uncomfortable with the situation at hand. From the fervor he was devoting to the task, I had to a.s.sume that, wherever we were heading, it was certain to be a room full of self-important men, waiting to decide my fate. I normally had nothing against self-importance, but the idea that, at this moment, someone could be settling a sentence upon my head was both disquieting and invasive, as though the private events of my life had all too quickly become public.

I might have considered this fact before involving myself with Arlemagneas heir, but I have always been much cleverer in retrospect.

There were certain freedoms allowed to men of the Basquiata”men of privilege and wealth. I wondered if this would help my case. But there were some limits to that freedom for which one couldnat be pardoned. Iad never been at the center of an international incident before. On the periphery, perhapsa”skirting around the edges like the proper young madames keen on avoiding puddles in the streeta”but this time was different. Displease the wrong people, and even your connections canat save you. Displease the wrong country, anda”well, I would find out shortly.

I refused to blame Erik. Panic was a natural reaction; it could make you stupid, selfish. Iad seen it often enough. It was a rare man who had the natural proclivity to do the right thing when the wrong one might save him a share in the punishment or blame. Erik had been young. In his place and at that age, I might well have done the same.

This was a liea”I knew even as I thought ita”but it was a lie that gave me some comfort.

Our carriage halted in front of the Esaras palace: a long, low-ceilinged building of cream and gold. The Provost got out before me and held the carriage door, so I knew that things couldnat be so dire as all that. Still, it was with a sense of slow, settling disaster that I stepped onto the Palace Walk.

For the first time in a long while I felt utterly powerless to shape my surroundings.

aItas this way,a said the Provost. He tapped me once on the shoulder, then took the lead. I followed him, for I could go no other way.

ROOK.

The only reason we got punished the way we did was acause thaEsar was spitting mad for too many reasons that had nothing to do with me and what Iad done. All of a sudden and out of nowhere, we were getting slapped with a ruler on the wrist, only there was a whole lot more of a ruckus about it, and it was thaEsar himself instead of some prissy-pants schoolmaaam doing the slapping. I mean, we were all called ina”me and the rest of the boysa”and lined up on these uncomfortable chairs that smelled of old velvet and dust, and made to wait in this place Balfour (his voice reminding us head been raised with all the privileges of a thoroughbred b.i.t.c.h) said was Punishmentas Antechamber. And even I had to admit it: That seemed about right. n.o.body said anything to us, just gave us a couple of dark looks before making us wait, no doubt so we could think long and hard about what wead done. They were scowling at me in particular, seeing as how Iad been the one to do it, and everyone knew.

I wasnat sorry. None of the boys were, eithera”I could see it in the way they were scowling right back. ThaEsar was just p.i.s.sed and looking for someone to blame it all on. Because we were having enough trouble with Arlemagne without all this on top of the rest, Ghislainad said, and Adamoad just shook his head like maybe he wished head been a part of it and maybe he was real glad he hadnat been, and maybe it didnat matter either way since he was called in for it with the rest of us.

The thing was, I didnat know she was married.