Si glyph [https://i.imgur.com/mHhTdaF.png]

Simon felt himself falling, like the floor was dropping away beneath his feet. His bad leg threatened to buckle. ‘Where is Sam?’

Nana pursed her lips. ‘You look beat. Sit down, man, before you fall down.’ She steered him to the pool.

He sank down to sit on the edge. Steaming water poured endlessly from the veiled lady’s urn. The damp warm air reeked of sulphur. ‘Where is Sam?’

‘I don’t know.’ Nana folded her arms. ‘He was with us in the market, then when the trouble started, he’d wandered off. You know how he is. The boy’s wild. It wasn’t my fault.’

‘I think he went to meet someone,’ Lorie said quickly. ‘A friend. Everyone ran from the fighting. He may have gone off with them.’

‘A friend? What friend?’

‘A girl, I think,’ Lorie said. ‘I don’t know.’

‘We have to find him. We have to—We’ve got to go back to the storeroom. He won’t know where to find us.’

‘When you’ve had a rest,’ Nana said. ‘Tea’s what we need. I’ll go see if these Wardens can run to a cup.’ She bustled away.

Grace sat down beside him, and Lorie and his mother arranged themselves further around the pool.

Simon stared at the polished stone floor. There was a crack by his foot, a wriggling line shaped almost like a glyph. Perhaps water from the pool was leaking and seeping and undermining the stone… But what did that matter? Sam was missing. He might be hurt. He might be dead. How could Nana have lost him? If any harm had come to the boy, he’d never forgive her. He would never forgive himself.

‘At the Temple,’ Grace said. ‘Did you see… Did you see what happened to Lady Numisma?’

Simon shook his head. There had been too much confusion, too many bodies. The gunmen had fired at the front rows first, though, and the Lady with her gold headdress was an obvious target. ‘I can’t be sure, but I think she was killed. I’m sorry, Grace.’ Sorry was such a pitifully small weak word. Your family is dead, your place in the world destroyed, and nothing can ever make it right. Sorry. ‘Who is her successor?’

‘I am,’ Grace said softly.

Of course, he thought. Grace was Lady Numisma’s daughter. He had guessed she had an important place in her House. Obviously she was being groomed for leadership.

‘I never really wanted to lead the House.’ Grace hugged herself. ‘Why is this happening? Why, Simon?’

‘Eranon.’

‘The gunmen weren’t Oryche.’

‘No. They were Snakes. Eranon is running the Snake gang, and he gave them guns.’

Grace was silent for a long moment. ‘If that’s so…’ She shuddered. ‘It’s war. We’ve never had war between the Houses.’

Murderous vendettas lasting for generations, street fights, raids, assassinations… but not war. No House had ever aimed to totally destroy another, until now.

‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.

‘Alone, I’m helpless. Numisma has fallen. Oryche and Phylaxes are united. Logically, I must contact Anemari. They may help.’

Simon gazed at the crack in the floor. He wondered how far down into the stone it went.

‘If Anemari offer their protection,’ she said, ‘you and your family should come with me.’

‘Us?’

‘Why not? You aren’t safe here. Eranon has made his intentions plain. He means to be king in Athanor. Perhaps he won’t call it that, but what difference does a name make? He will be ruler and crush all who oppose him. Anemari may fight. Or if they won’t, they may carry us over the sea to some safe harbour.’

Simon considered her profile. Her face was pale but composed, as calm as the statue of the lady with her ever-pouring water. ‘You’d abandon Athanor to its fate? The city will burn. It will tear itself apart.’

‘I don’t want to.’ She shrugged. ‘But one must accept reality. I can’t fight this, and it’s always better to live than to die.’

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

‘Anemari can’t be trusted. Besides, I can’t go anywhere until I find Sam.’

‘But when you do…’ She wrapped her fingers round his. ‘Would you come with me?’

He opened his mouth to speak, but his mind had frozen, the thoughts all jammed together like logs in a river.

‘Simon vai Oryche?’ Two masked Wardens loomed over him. ‘You’re under arrest.’

He blinked at them. ‘What?’

‘Please come with us.’

‘You can’t do this,’ Grace said. ‘He’s done nothing wrong.’

‘That isn’t our concern,’ the Warden said. ‘House Oryche want him arrested.’

‘And since when did the Wardens take orders from the Houses?’ she asked.

The other Warden helped Simon to his feet. He didn’t resist.

Grace stood. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. She was the Lady of Numisma, centuries of noble privilege distilled into every fiercely determined inch of her. ‘As senior representative of my House, I declare this man under my protection. Simon is guilty of no crime. I demand you release him.’

The Wardens exchanged glances. ‘With respect, Lady, that’s not a decision we can make. You should take it up with Commander Quinn.’

L glyph [https://i.imgur.com/2vwU4yB.png]

Your father’s in prison. Locked in a cell. Alone in the dark, far underground.

Lorie squeezed her eyes shut until she saw flashes of purple. Over-tense muscles trembled.

You can help him. Don’t you want to?

— He’s all right. He’s safe. Grace will talk to the commander. They’ll let him go.

Oh, good. I’m sure he’ll be fine then. I’m sure you can trust these people to do the right thing.

— Shut up. Shut up.

What if they don’t? What if they hand him over? Will you do something, or watch them drag him away to his death?

— It won’t happen. It won’t.

She held fiercely to the thought, as if it were a jagged rock that filled her head and blocked out everything, everything but the soothing sound of water pouring into the pool. It wasn’t enough. However hard she tried, the Voice remained, waiting and watching for her concentration to slip.

‘They’ve assigned us cells,’ Grace said.

Lorie gasped. Her eyes shot open. Grace and Nana stood before her, Nana holding a stack of grey blankets and white sheets.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ Grace said. ‘The Wardens call their sleeping quarters cells. They aren’t prison cells.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Though not a great deal more pleasant.’

Nana offered Lorie a set of blankets. ‘Help the lady with her bed, then do your own.’

Numbly, Lorie accepted the bedding and followed, trailing after them through echoing, apparently unoccupied corridors.

They had four rooms next to each other. All were identical: square and just large enough for a single bed, a chair, and a storage chest. No windows, of course, only bare stone walls and floor and a gas lamp for light, but to Lorie it looked like luxury. Even in Sark, though she had a real bed of her own, the room had been shared with Nana and her snoring. She’d never had a whole room to herself, with a door she could close and latch from the inside.

Grace ushered her into the cell on the end. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I’ve never actually made my own bed.’

‘Oh.’ Lorie set the bedding on the chest. ‘Really? It’s not difficult.’

‘Servants did it. I feel so helpless.’

Lorie unfolded the sheet. ‘I don’t mind. Here, take the other end.’

Between them, they laid the sheet over the horse-hair-stuffed mattress. Lorie tucked in her end, and Grace copied her at the other, not so neatly.

‘Will Dad…’ Lorie tugged the corners straight. ‘Will Dad be all right? They won’t let Oryche have him, will they?’

‘I hope not.’ Grace hugged the folded blanket. ‘I’ve spoken briefly to the Wardens’ commander. He’s sympathetic, but I’m afraid the situation is complicated.’

‘Dad told us Lord Oryche wants to kill him. Is that why he’s being accused of murder?’

Grace nodded. ‘Obviously a baseless allegation, and the Wardens are independent of the Houses. They don’t have to hand him over, whatever Oryche do.’

‘But they might?’

‘It’s possible.’

Lorie’s chest tightened. There was a pain in her breastbone, squeezing the air from her lungs. ‘And if they did?’

‘Then he’d most likely be executed.’

Lorie sank onto the bed.

‘Sorry.’ Grace sat beside her. ‘I thought I should be honest. You aren’t a child.’

No, not a child.

‘It’s all right.’ Lorie swallowed. ‘I already knew, I just… When you were talking to Dad earlier, you said you wanted to contact the Anemari.’

‘An Anemari alliance is the only hope for my House, whatever’s left of it. I don’t know if they’ll help, but I must try. I have a responsibility. I can’t hide from that, and I can’t run, however much I’d like too. Simon was right about that.’

Lorie took a breath. There was hope; Grace hadn’t given up. She had a plan, and surely Anemari would help them. ‘I have a friend in Anemari. If I wrote a letter, could I…?’

Grace looked at her quizzically. ‘Would this friend be a boy?’

Lorie flushed.

‘And does your father know about this friend of yours?’

‘Not exactly.’

Grace sighed. ‘Lorie, when I was your age, my mother gave me some good advice. Not every Anemari is alike, not every Oryche is alike, but each House has its common traits. And the nobles of each House have a weakness, one thing they can’t resist, though it leads them to death and ruin.

‘The weakness of Phylaxes is violence. For Numisma, it’s gnosis, knowledge of the divine. And for Anemari, it’s adventure.

‘Now, if you told your father about your Anemari friend, I expect he’d tell you to leave well alone. And that might be best, but I won’t say that. What I will tell you is, before you get too attached, be very sure that you’re more to him than just another adventure.’

Lorie twisted the sheet round her fingers and smoothed it again. ‘And if it’s me who wants an adventure?’

‘Nothing wrong with an adventure when you’re ready for it.’ Grace smiled to herself, as if she remembered something pleasant. She patted Lorie’s hand. ‘Write your letter, and I’ll send it with mine.’

Lorie nodded. Did she want an adventure? She wasn’t sure. Maybe she just wanted someone to hold, someone to tell her everything was all right, someone she didn’t have to share. Was that wrong?

It felt wrong, but that was guilt, really. Guilt that she was thinking of Phin when Dad was in prison and Sam was missing and so much in the world was terrible and frightening.

‘What’s the weakness of Oryche?’ she asked.

Grace stood and tugged the sheet straight where it had wrinkled. ‘Secrets.’

Ah, Lorie thought. I should have known.