The Kraken King Part VII: The Kraken King and the Empress?s Eyes (A Novel of the Iron Seas) Read online

  “Those are impossible to put aside,” Mara said before sighing. “I don’t know whether I enjoy being here, or if I just enjoy the things that remind me of when I was a girl. Such as hearing the clack of the women’s sandals. I’d forgotten that. But I used to hear it whenever my mother and I would walk through the Nipponese enclave in the Ivory Market. I don’t have many memories of her. Mostly just of how she would lift the lid from a cooking pot and waft the steam to her face, and how beautiful her smile was when it smelled as she hoped it would. So it’s . . . pleasant to be reminded of more.”

  By the thickness in Mara’s voice, Zenobia thought that pleasant couldn’t convey the emotions the memories truly evoked. “It’s good that you’re here, then.”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you enjoy living in Krakentown?”

  Oh, Zenobia hadn’t meant to blurt out the question like that. Anxiety bound her chest again, pulling tighter and tighter when a brief silence fell, as if she’d surprised the other woman.

  Finally Mara said, “Cooper and I would like it very much,” but the mercenary’s response didn’t make it easier for Zenobia to breathe.

  “I love him,” she whispered, and now she’d exposed her heart to two people—her brother and her guard.

  This time there was no hesitation before Mara replied, “I know.” She finished with the sash, and concern creased her brow when she came around to study Zenobia’s face. “Are you well?”

  Not trusting her voice, Zenobia nodded. She was perfectly well. She just had lungs that wouldn’t breathe. A heart that wouldn’t stop racing. And feet that didn’t trust the ground beneath them.

  But perhaps she should have expected this uncertainty. Her world had turned completely upside down in the past two months—quite literally. She stood in a different hemisphere on the opposite side of the earth from where she’d been. And she’d changed, too. When she’d left home, Zenobia hadn’t been in love; now she was in so deep with Ariq that she could drown in it. She’d been a virgin; now she was so thoroughly ravished and eager to ravish him that every night had become an unending pleasure. She’d been a woman who hid and waited for ransom; now she would make a bludgeon and fashion her own escape.

  In many ways, she was the same woman who’d boarded an airship in Fladstrand. But there had been shifts within her, some like shivers and some like earthquakes, and so it was no surprise that she wasn’t yet steady.

  And she’d worried that Ariq had fallen in love with the spy rather than the woman she was? It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d known the truth. She would still be a different person now than the one he’d first met. She just had to trust that he would move with her when she shifted and quaked.

  Not so easy, trust. Not so easy, hope. But the realization helped her settle a little.

  Mara must have thought so, too. The concern smoothed away from her expression and she retrieved her bathing basket. “Are you worried because you haven’t yet received news from Krakentown?”

  Not a word from Ariq’s brother or from Lieutenant Blanchett, though he’d expected to hear from them the previous day. Ariq had been quiet that morning while readying to leave, his tension bordering on that terrifying calm. “Some. I’m trying not to think the worst. Ariq might have received a message today.”

  “And if he hasn’t?”

  “Then we will do what we must.”

  Though Zenobia had no idea what that might be—only that whatever Ariq decided, she would stand with him.

  Mara nodded. “And you know Cooper’s and my services are at your . . .”

  Tilting her head, she trailed off before setting her basket down. Zenobia stilled, listening.

  Only the ocean, the birds, and the expected noises of airship traffic and life in the tower.

  “Wait here.” Mara left the chamber.

  Zenobia rushed to the door. She’d wait as told. But she’d look.

  An airship hovered off the western terrace. Painted a bright red and with white sails like fins, the sleek cruiser resembled a flying fish—though she had not seen many fish with gilded fins and ornate gold scrollwork decorating their snouts. Too opulent for a hired ship, it could only be a private vessel. Someone who hoped to speak with Ariq?

  Though the engines hummed quietly as it rose on level with the docking platform, the low rumble echoed and amplified through the long coral courtyard that ran through the heart of their residence like a tunnel. She wasn’t surprised to see Cooper already waiting at the edge of the terrace, with the sides of his jacket tucked behind his holsters. They hadn’t expected visitors. But when Mara joined Cooper, whatever she said had him covering up his weapons.

  Did she know whose airship it was?

  Zenobia glanced at the vessel again. Narrow flags fluttered on long posts near the bow, but the writing on them meant nothing to her. An emblem of leaves and a blossom marked both the flags and the balloon.

  Across the courtyard, one of the new attendants they’d hired in the Red City emerged from a chamber carrying a basket. She looked toward the western terrace. Her eyes widened and her entire body seemed to stutter to a stop before she dropped into a crouch, her head bowed.

  Oh, dear Lord. Zenobia didn’t need Helene’s book to tell her what the attendant’s reaction meant. Perhaps it was best not to wait, after all, but to go out and meet this person.

  A woman. She appeared at the rail as a gangway extended from the side of the red airship to the terrace. Zenobia abruptly halted.

  This was someone important. It was also someone dangerous.

  Her midnight blue robes possessed more layers and were more complicated than Zenobia’s simple dress, but didn’t conceal the sword hanging at her side. The pale flowers printed on the heavy silk echoed her snowy sash and the white plague mask that covered her mouth and nose, leaving her eyes exposed. An ivory headdress shaped like a fan secured her smooth halo of black hair. She strode boldly down the gangway, her razor-edged gaze touching Mara and Cooper before finding Zenobia.

  Behind her came a dozen soldiers. Male and female, all in unrelieved blue, with iron-scaled cuirasses protecting their chests. Unlike the first woman’s, their masks hid their eyes behind flat black lenses.

  Pulse pounding, Zenobia looked to Mara, hoping to find some indication of what to do. The mercenary hadn’t touched her guns and was greeting the woman. Probably best that Zenobia did, too.

  Mara glanced to her as Zenobia joined them, the wind from the airship’s propellers blowing into her face. In a voice more formal than Zenobia had ever heard from the mercenary, Mara said, “Madame Fox, we have been honored by a visit from Lady Nagamochi. She is captain of the imperial guard.”

  The empress’s guard, a woman with steely eyes, wiry hands, and perfume like sun-warmed cherries. Dear God. “Please tell her she is most welcome.”

  The airship’s engines quieted halfway through Zenobia’s statement, each overloud word echoing through the courtyard.

  Lady Nagamochi inclined her head. “I beg that you forgive our intrusion,” she replied, and her French had less of an accent than Zenobia’s did.

  With hot cheeks, Zenobia corrected herself and spoke directly to the woman, instead. “Just because it is unexpected does not mean it is an intrusion. You are most welcome here, though I’ll admit I can hardly account for this compliment.”

  “They have come to replace the Empress’s Eyes,” Mara told her softly.

  “Ah,” Zenobia replied, because there was nothing else to say. Heart suddenly heavy, she nodded. “Of course.”

  Lady Nagamochi lifted her hand and flicked her fingers forward. In two lines, the soldiers behind her surged ahead, swiftly filing past their small group and into the courtyard. One broke away from his row, heading for the clockwork rooster perched near the terrace’s balustrade. Another soldier took a device from its position at the head of the courtyard.

  Another entered the first personal chamber—and another, the chamber Zenobia shared with Ariq.

  “Oh, bu
t—” There are none in there, she meant to say, but a touch of Mara’s hand stopped her. As smoothly as she could, Zenobia looked to Lady Nagamochi again. “—I hope you will come and have tea with me.”

  As soon as she gave the invitation, Zenobia remembered the woman’s mask, and felt more horrid and stupid than she’d ever felt. Oh, if only Helene were here. Her friend wouldn’t make these gaffes.

  But the captain of the guard had all the poise and elegance of ten ambassador’s wives, and somehow put Zenobia at ease with the slight smile in her eyes and another inclination of her head. “You are very kind, but my duty forbids it. Her majesty only wishes to ascertain the safety of everyone within her city, and to maintain its order and harmony.”

  And so they were to be watched more closely? Zenobia tried not to bristle. “My husband and I would not bring harm to anyone here. He only seeks help for his own people.”

  Lady Nagamochi met that response with a slow nod and steady gaze. “As I said—her majesty wishes to make certain everyone is safe.”

  Including Ariq and her, the message was. Zenobia wasn’t sure she believed it.

  But she was sure she shouldn’t say so. “Do you have reason to think we would not be safe?”

  Had Admiral Tatsukawa returned, perhaps? Did he have supporters who wanted to silence Ariq, so that he couldn’t speak about the kidnapping plot the admiral had helped Ghazan Bator carry out or give the true reason a Nipponese fleet threatened every settlement in western Australia?

  “It is only precaution,” Lady Nagamochi said, and stepped back as her soldiers filed out of the courtyard to the airship. The engines fired. “We wish you good evening, Madame Fox.”

  With that farewell, she joined the tail of her soldiers’ line. Oh, damn it all.

  “My lady!” Zenobia called and waited until the other woman looked back. “My husband hopes for a meeting with her majesty or her advisers.”

  “We are aware,” the captain said and continued onto the platform.

  Mara and Cooper waited with her on the terrace as the gangway pulled back into the ship with a clicking of gears. Not a word passed between them as it lifted from the docking platform. As soon as it flew out of sight behind the bulk of the tower, Zenobia spun and hurried to her chambers. Her heart plummeted.

  A clockwork horse stood beside the doors to her private balcony, positioned so that its unblinking eyes observed most of the room. Only a small portion on the eastern side of the chamber—and the bed behind the screen—would be out of its view.

  “She was aware,” Zenobia whispered as she heard Mara come up behind her. “So is this good or bad?”

  “I don’t know,” the mercenary said, but the tightness of her response echoed the taut anxiety building in Zenobia’s chest.

  “Are there new devices in the other chambers?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  They knew which room she shared with Ariq. “If we move to another?”

  “They might believe you’re hiding something.”

  Damn it. Zenobia closed her eyes.

  A click made her open them again. The horse’s head rotated before stopping with its lidless gaze now overseeing the eastern side of the chamber. Not just watching. Making sure it saw everything.

  For now, Zenobia wouldn’t give it anything to see.

  “Let’s go to the baths,” she said.

  ***

  Lanterns on the terrace guided Ariq’s hired airship in. Cooper stood in the faint glow, waiting. Ariq hoped the mercenary had news for him, because he was bringing none to them.

  Three days and not a single rutting thing to show for it except the frustration and anger that burned like acid in his chest.

  The fleet he’d seen off the northern coast would have reached his town by now. If they still followed their original orders, the fleet shouldn’t be a threat yet—only searching for the marauders as they sailed south. But Admiral Tatsukawa hadn’t returned to the Red City. If the admiral had intercepted the fleet, it would be under his command now—and he had more to gain sending his forces to Ariq’s town than by sending them to the dens.

  But Ariq didn’t know, because he hadn’t heard anything from his brother or Blanchett.

  He didn’t know if the fleet commander had been warned that Admiral Tatsukawa and Ghazan Bator had been directing the marauders from the first.

  He didn’t know if anyone in Nippon believed a word he said, or if they were just using his claims to further their own interests.

  He didn’t know a damned thing.

  Hopefully Cooper did. As soon as Ariq stepped onto the terrace, he dragged off his mask. “Any word?”

  The mercenary shook his head. The acid in Ariq’s chest seemed to fill his stomach before he forced the burn to harden into cold iron.

  No choice, then. He had to go.

  And he would have to leave Zenobia behind. He didn’t know what danger waited for him, and he wouldn’t risk her life.

  He would return for her. But while he was gone, she would have time to build new walls against him. His wife had such little trust within her, so little faith that he truly loved her. The moment Ariq told her he had to go she would probably begin rebuilding her defenses.

  So he would shatter those, too.

  But despite his determination, his heart was heavy as he nodded and continued toward the courtyard. Cooper’s voice stopped him.

  “The imperial guard came. Lady Nagamochi led them.”

  The captain of the guard. He’d never heard of Lady Nagamochi before coming to Nippon, but in the past three days Ariq had heard her name spoken often—sometimes with hostility, sometimes with admiration, and always with a hint of fear. “Why?”

  “To check the Empress’s Eyes and place another device in your chambers.”

  In his chambers? “Is my wife still there?”

  “Yes.”

  Dregs and hell. Of course she wouldn’t move. Only Tengri knew how the imperial guard might interpret it. But that didn’t matter now. The diplomatic battle was lost, because Ariq couldn’t fight it if he wasn’t here. And he would not subject his wife to those devices for another second.

  She looked up from her typesetting machine when he opened the door. He hadn’t heard the clacking—though no wonder. Her fingers weren’t on the letters. She simply sat in front of the table, hands on her lap, looking at the page. Had she even been able to work with that thing in here, watching her?

  The device stood by the balcony. Jaw clenched, he started across the chamber toward it. Only the ocean lay at the foot of the tower. The ocean and, soon, a damned clockwork horse.

  Zenobia bolted to her feet. “Wait!”

  Not another being on earth could have stopped him. But it was Zenobia, so he waited.

  Her breath quickened by the abrupt movement, she caught the front of his tunic, as if to hold him in place. In return Ariq snagged the collar of her robe and tugged her slim length up hard against his body. By the blessed Eternal Sky, he loved the scent of her, the look of her, the feel of her.

  “Good evening, wife.”

  She gave a breathless laugh, and her smile sliced right through his chest. His wife had so little faith that he loved her . . . yet every time she looked at him, Ariq saw how much she hoped he truly did.

  And he thought that hope terrified her more than the threat of kidnapping ever had, because her doubts were just as strong. Given all that he knew of her father, the assassins hunting her brother, and how often she’d been taken for ransom, maybe it was a miracle that she trusted him at all. Yet she did. And every time she kissed him, every time he came home and found her waiting with their meal kept warm on the hearth, every time she took him inside her body told Ariq that she wanted this marriage to work as badly as he did. But Zenobia had so many doubts and fears, it was much harder for her to believe that their marriage would last and that his feelings were genuine—so Ariq made it as easy for her as he could.

  It wouldn’t be as easy now that he was leaving, even i
f she understood his reasons.

  So he kissed her, because he needed to feel her mouth open to his, needed to feel her trust now—just needed to feel her.

  And he needed to delay their separation for a little longer. It couldn’t be long enough.

  Click.

  His lips tore from hers. The horse’s head was moving. Not in another minute—

  Zenobia’s fingers caught his chin and she made him meet her eyes again. “It’s easy to ignore after a little while.”

  “You promised not to lie,” he reminded her.

  “About anything that prevented you from breaching my walls,” she said easily. “This doesn’t count. I told Lady Nagamochi that you’d hoped for an audience with the empress—or at least with someone who might have enough influence to turn the fleet around. She said that they were aware.”

  Aware? Ariq stared at the clockwork horse. Aware. Did that mean he would be granted that audience?

  Smoking hells. It didn’t matter now. He had to go. Maybe the ambassador could speak for him.

  And maybe leaving would ruin any chance Ariq had.

  “Did you hear from Krakentown?” Zenobia was watching his face.

  “No.”

  With a heavy sigh, she nodded and pulled out of his arms. “So you plan to go?”

  Ariq didn’t know why he’d ever thought he’d have to explain his reasons to her. Her mind was an arrow. Of course she’d already guessed his path. “I don’t see any other option.”

  “I do.” She sat at the small table beside the hearth. “Send Mara and Cooper.”

  Ariq frowned. The thrum of an airship passing close to the tower rumbled through the chamber as he joined her.

  “It’s the only sensible plan,” she said when he faced her across the table. “We can’t know that something is wrong in Krakentown. Perhaps Blanchett’s airship was delayed for other reasons. An engine failure, weather. It could be anything. You would leave for nothing and perhaps jeopardize your negotiations here.”

  “It would not be a loss,” Ariq said. “Few care that entire settlements will be destroyed. They only care about what they will personally gain or lose. Whether I will share in my mining interests or convince the Wajarri to lower the price on the ore. Whether I will persuade the twins to lower their tariffs. Whether I can destroy the twins and help establish a new den lord of their choice.”