CHAPTER EIGHTY
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Iris Everton
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Septos, 927 PC
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Lady Camdrie stood at the top of the ramp attached to the Seahawk, scowling at the dirty harbor and blocking everyone else’s path to the docks. The glaring sun reflected off no less than a dozen pieces of jewelry all over her sleek frame. There was a young sailor boy asking her a question, but the way she disregarded him made Iris wonder if he truly existed. An unsurprising display of arrogance given she could buy the city of Locke twice over and still have an absurd amount of wealth. To Iris’ dismay, she was as beautiful as she was rich. Hair that obeyed primping, if not made the suggestions itself, and posture that went beyond good discipline into the realm of expectancy. What she expected, Iris assumed, was to be waited on hand and foot.
“Donovan!” she called down the ramp. “Be a dear, would you?” It was less of a question than any Iris had ever heard.
Master Rellin hurried up the ramp like a servant, bringing shock to Iris. Lady Camdrie may be rich, but she was not royalty. She had no intention of bowing down to anyone, let alone a commoner with more beauty than intelligence. The newly deemed errand boy thanked the sailor, taking Lady Camdrie’s luggage from him, then kissed the back of his guest’s presented hand. I wonder if he’ll kiss my hand when I am actual royalty… She scowled at the self-important bitch but her real frustration was aimed at the man she thought worshiped her but had never put her on a pedestal this high.
“You must meet Iris,” Master Rellin said as they came down the ramp, Lady Camdrie’s jewelry becoming even more blinding. He lugged a brown suede case behind him. A matching bag hung from his shoulder, its black embroidered rose begging for attention. She held the hand of a man who could have snapped her like a twig. No such luck. Three similar-looking men followed closely, their black chainmail clinking with each step. Each carried a bag identical to the one Master Rellin was clutching tight to his chest now. Long white cloaks hung over their shoulders, the red “H” with green vines curling around it stitched into the cloth dominated the back of the piece. Not one of them had spoken in years, too busy scanning for potential threats to make conversation.
Jameson had a sword, a pitiful thing, too dull to cut an apple except on its best days. It had never invoked those feelings she’d had in her living space the day Barik killed Candice. These men had the appropriate weaponry for a group of mercenaries that prided themselves on being the greatest collection of sword skill in the empire – swords that could take a head clean off.
The man who’d led Lady Camdrie down the ramp eyed Iris. General Rhyne Camdrie if his uniform was any indication of his status. The youngest man to ever lead The Hounds of Haldar had taken over two years before, with merely twenty-four years to his name. A fact that everyone knew one way or another. A year ago she would have avoided his gaze like a scolded child but now that Master Styner had planted the thought of having her own army in her head, she stood up straighter and stared back as confidently as she could. She’d decided she would learn from him while he was here, whether he knew it or not. His heartless eyes were glazed over with whatever it took to witness countless atrocities and not have your insides crumble. His short black beard was trimmed by a militaristic discipline, the hair coming to a stop just below a scar that would have left him without an eye if it laid even an inch higher. “You’re the alchemist,” he said to her.
“Yes, sir.” Yes, sir? I’m not one of his soldiers. She waited to see how he responded to her use of the word but he’d heard it so many times before it didn’t even tickle his curiosity.
“I’ve heard good things about you. Impressive things.” He held out his hand; clean and dirty all in one. She reached to shake his hand as an equal but he clasped her hand and bowed to kiss it. Suddenly, she could see why Lady Camdrie behaved the way she did. Flattery was powerful. “I do hope you can be the picture others have painted of you. We’ve come a long way and time is of the utmost importance in my field.”
She fought the urge to wring her hands under the weight of his glare. “I can assure you, sir, I share that notion.”
“I hope so.”
She turned to Lady Camdrie, who looked through her like a window, searching the dock for someone more miraculous. “It’s an honor to meet you Lady Camdrie,” she said in her most dignified voice, doing her best to gather the woman’s attention. “Master Rellin has-”
Lady Camdrie disappeared behind the hand she held in front of Iris’ face. “Not until I’ve had my tea.” She looked around for a moment, perhaps waiting for someone to carry her down the dock.
“Come mother,” the general said forcefully and they headed off down the docks, side by side, their guards behind them. The dock quickly became far less crowded than it had been moments before as fishermen and sailors moved aside.
There wasn’t enough fury in the world to put into Iris’ eyes as she stared at Master Rellin. “She’s our best hope,” he said and chased after the potential benefactor.
She was about to jump into the Jazak and wash herself of all the arrogance that had oozed from the Camdries when another man came down the ramp. His casual stroll suggested he’d never had a bad day. His features were not all that unlike the Camdries but he was dressed down compared to them. Practical, if not underwhelming. He was muscular in an unimposing way with hands that clearly knew a hard day’s work. The sword at his hip suggested he may be more of a threat than he appeared but his smile reinforced his good nature. As did the way he shook hands with multiple dockers and complimented them on various things he appreciated.
“Hello there,” he said to her. “I saw you had the misfortune of speaking with my mother. I apologize for anything she may have said to offend you.”
“Your mother is a delight.”
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“You’re either the nicest woman in the empire or the most oblivious.” His impeccable smile made hers feel like rotten waste smeared on her face.
“Well, I don’t tend to consider myself oblivious.” She extended her hand. “Iris Everton.”
His grip was gentle but controlling. “Kathar Camdrie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Nice to put a face to a name too. You’re all my brother has talked about since he heard tell of your incredible work.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Kathar. Your mother as well.”
He ran his hand through his light brown hair and chuckled at her false manners. “No need for that. I know how she is.” His blue eyes reminded her of Jameson’s but Jameson’s were like a bucket of evil that the three devils took turns filling and dumping on his helpless victims. “Better get a move on though. She’s not one to wait.”
Lady Camdrie’s swaying hips had a way of pulling eyes to them. Even Iris’. Like her or not, the woman understood how to demand respect. So, while the general would fill in a few slivers of knowledge Iris had never cared to fill, his mother would provide the answers to one that had always escaped her. Though, it was nearly impossible to imagine herself waving at onlookers as if the dockers weren’t there for work and instead had come to see a woman. Lady Camdrie had no qualms about that though. She even blew a kiss to one of the more handsome men who turned away uncomfortably when the Hounds behind the flamboyant woman decided to get a better look at him.
“So, you’re from White Hall,” Iris said. “Where every man’s dream can come true. From bards to barbers.” She’d heard Master Rellin say that once but refused to give that sycophant any credit right now.
“Well, I’m from Locke. That’s how my family knows Master Rellin. We just spend a lot of time in the east. Offers a more fitting lifestyle for mother.” He frowned. “I’d never leave this beautiful city if I had it my way. The white beaches and green forests. I love walking through the Emerald Forest in autumn. The beauty of the leaves, the natural aromas. Life is simple here.” She disagreed with that sentiment but conversation with strangers often presents points you don’t agree with, it’s that you find a way to keep trudging along through the discomfort that matters. And in truth, it was nice to speak to someone who wasn’t a criminal or an old alchemist obsessed with bringing the empire to its knees. Not that she disagreed with that sentiment.
“I see. Well, you could be stuck in worse places.”
“Aye. But it’s just too busy for me. The pubs are packed to the brim and smell like sweat and old ale. The markets are so enormous you can’t find anything you need or you have so many options you can’t make up your mind for days. I do try my luck in the gambling halls occasionally. That I can’t complain about. But give me a nice quiet place to read a book or work with my hands. That’s what I enjoy.”
“Have you ever been in the Hall of Histories at the university?” His smile told her he had. “Oh, I love it. I spend hours at a time there.”
“I’ll have to see if anything’s changed,” Kathar said in a very leading tone. She took the bait.
“I’d love to show you around.”
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The stagecoach sat roughly a hundred yards from the open gates of the harbor. By the time they arrived at the coach, Lady Camdrie was obnoxiously cooling herself with a fan she’d produced from somewhere inside her dress. The driver stood by the open door, smiling and bowing to the wealthy visitors just as Master Rellin had insisted. Lady Camdrie offered her hand. When the driver didn’t move– “Well”– causing him to jump into service. “Surely you know better than to leave a lady waiting.” She climbed into the vehicle without his help, acting as though she’d taken the privilege of touching her away from him.
Less the guards, the rest piled in by importance, Iris and Kathar bringing up the rear. He shooed the driver away politely and held the door for her. One of the grander gestures she’d received since coming to Locke. A sad but telling truth about the city and the people she spent her time with. If not for the jingle of coins colliding, the thump of the money bags being tossed into the back of the coach would have sounded oddly similar to the way the corpses hit the wagon when Master Rellin had them transported from the university. A moment after all was quiet, a Hound put his grizzled face in front of the window.
“Right behind you, sir.”
“Roofs and alleys,” the general said. “If there’s any trouble, do not let it make its way to the university. The City Guard knows we’re here and have granted us permission to take appropriate action when we see fit.”
“Understood.” The guard started to turn away.
“Commander.” The guard stopped. “That does not mean filling your route with unjust transgressions and expecting me to bail you out of trouble. I won’t have another incident like the one in Twin Roads. Do you understand, commander?”
“Yes, sir.” The Hound patted the side of the coach with his meaty paw.
Iris took note of the interaction but it wasn’t until they were moving that what the general had said sunk in. A pile of Leos as large as the one in the storage compartment gave off a scent similar to blood in water, only these sharks lurked on land.
“Oh, Creator, save me from this wretched smell,” Lady Camdrie said. “Apples and vinegar! Is there a worse smell in all the land?” Iris often noticed the unappealing odor lingering on her clothes after working with the Apple Core day after day. The melodramatic bitch wasn’t wrong to dislike the smell but to make a comment about it took a special kind of perceived entitlement.
“I’m afraid that’d be me,” Iris said. “I’ve been working with some particularly strong alchemicals in recent weeks. I’m afraid it gets caught in my clothes. A small price to pay for progress on a project that-”
“It’s awful,” Lady Camdie said, cutting her off with a twist of her head toward Kathar. “Do you smell that, Kathar?” The embarrassed son took his mother by the hand and responded with his eyes. The hint was lost on the fine lady. “Oh, my. I’m not sure I’ll make it to the university. Oh, lords. Can we open a door before we set off? To get rid of that scent. Yuck. Would you mind walking, dear?”
“I-I… What?”
“Of course she wouldn’t,” Master Rellin said and tapped the window behind his head. Iris was surely presenting how mortified she was. “It does smell quite terrible, Iris. And we’re not that far from the university. It’ll be like one of your morning strolls.”
She wanted to remind him that Jameson could be somewhere in the city but she had a greater desire not to appear cowardly in front of General Camdrie. She disguised her disbelief as Master Rellin shoved the door open and sat back down, staring at her quietly.
“Go on, dear. And please, bathe before I see you again.” Lady Camdrie spoke from behind her hand, eyes squinting over the top with displeasure.
Iris watched the coach rumble down the cobblestone street, wishing there was a crate of Apple Core inside that would explode if they hit a bump too hard. Master Styner’s words, the way he had made her feel, the future he had laid out for her, it all felt like rubbish at that moment. Despite all her hard work and revolutionary discoveries, she still didn’t have the wealth or magic to matter. Does brilliance truly matter so little in this world? She decided then she’d bite her tongue until it bled if it meant gutting Lady Camdrie’s coffers.