The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) (31 page)

             
“Can he wait?” Kora asked.

             
“He says no. He has to speak with Galisan before nightfall.”

             
“Unbelievable. He could wait ten minutes.”

             
“So make him,” said Kansten. Kora let out a dry laugh.

             
“Would you
make Menikas wait?”

             
For the last month, as conditions deteriorated within and around the League, Menikas, never exactly lighthearted, had grown severe and demanding. The more he saw situations drifting out of his control, the harder he fought to rein them in. Kora cursed as she followed Kansten into the living area of the League’s quarters.

             
Hal and Bidd were out, probably buying dinner. Hayden, Kora smiled to see, was holding a conversation with Neslan, explaining why he did not read for pleasure. Lanokas, Bendelof, and Ranler were huddled at the table, trying to determine if the city’s grain silos or coal sheds could be looted. (Kora had been amazed when Lanokas told her at least a hundred families depended on the League to supply their flour. The black market’s tax-free prices were all that prevented many from having to choose between shoes and blankets, milk and bread.) Menikas and Laskenay were standing by the door; the elder sorceress beckoned Kora over.

             
“We’re heading across the street,” said Menikas. As he turned to leave, Kora muttered “
Despareska
,” as she almost always did now before stepping out. She vanished from sight.

             
The League’s second apartment was reserved during daylight hours for Menikas and Laskenay, who sometimes delegated its use to other Leaguesmen working on sensitive projects. Laskenay kept it magically sealed. Kora herself had only been there a handful of times. Its walls were bare, like those of its counterpart, and its layout nearly identical.

             
Stacks of parchment filled a small bookshelf and overflowed onto the floor. Kora reappeared as Laskenay took a seat around a scratched, square-topped table and Menikas removed the papers spread across its surface. Kora grabbed an inkwell and quill from a collection in the corner. “What’s going on?” she asked, pushing the writing tools across the table. The prince sent them back.

             
“We shouldn’t need those.”

             
“So what are we doing?” Kora repeated.

             
“I have an hour. In that time I want a consensus about what we’re doing with that spellbook.”

             
The
Librette Oscure
, an historic book of dark magic that had been one great headache for the League both before and after they stole it from a fortuneteller. Kora said, “You want to move the thing? After months of our guarding it here?”

             
“I’ve been saying for months it’s foolish to hide the book in the city Malzin’s goons are turning stone from stone searching for it.”

             
The city where Zalski’s general was soon to plant himself…. But there would be time later to deal with Alten’s mission.

             
Laskenay’s expression turned hard, but did not phase Menikas. She said, “It’s asinine to hide the tome someplace we can’t keep our eye on it. Do you honestly think I’d let my brother lay hands on the
Librette?
”

             
“I think your brother will try his damnedest to do just that. If he wants the spell we think he does, he’ll also need a Leaguesman. Why let him gain both in one attack?”

             
“Laskenay, Menikas has a point. There are two things we know Zalski needs to solidify his power, only two. It doesn’t make sense to keep them together.”

             
“It does make sense to store the book where we can best protect it. That means here. I seem, however, to be alone in that opinion, so we’ll be moving the cursèd thing. Tell me, where?”

             
“Wheatfield?” Kora suggested. It was more the first place to come to mind than a good idea. “The farm where my mother grew up? It could be a safe option, it’s abandoned.”

             
Laskenay shook her head. “It’s one thing to separate ourselves from the book. It’s another to leave it unguarded, without a keeper.”

             
“I agree,” said Menikas. “We should leave it to someone’s charge, someone neither in Yangerton nor Podrar. Surely one of us knows a person.”

             
“Kansten’s old crew?” suggested Kora.

             
Menikas told her, “None are left. Do you know anyone in Hogarane?”

             
Laskenay protested, “It’s within the search area. The guard searched it once and they could again, no. Perhaps Partsvale?”

             
Menikas nixed that. “I don’t trust the Partsvale group. They’ve never truly been tested. I’m not leaving that book with anyone untried.”

             
Kora whispered, “Teena.”

             
“Who?” said Laskenay.

             
“An innkeeper in Fontferry, the one who offered to help me any way she could.” Kora still had Teena’s letter. It was one of the items stuffed in the sack she always kept ready in case the League had to flee without notice.

             
Laskenay sat in stunned silence, her hands on the table. She looked strangely close to shaking, and had to grasp the furniture to stay still. Menikas said, “Fontferry? You think we have the provisions to send a man to Fontferry?”

             
Rather than point out to Menikas that he was the one intent on moving the book from Yangerton in the first place, Kora said, “I’ve already been there. I can transport.”
             
             

             
“Why should I trust this woman?”

             
“She knew I was wanted by Zalski…. There’s no time to explain,” Kora said, when Menikas narrowed his eyes. “But she knew, and she could have turned me in. She offered to help me instead. You know all this.”

             
“And her nephew?” said Laskenay. She remained forcibly tense. “Kansten mentioned she cares for a boy. He’s not yet five. I consent to move the book, but I won’t put a child in danger. I refuse, absolutely refuse. What if Malzin or her men should track the book to this Teena?”

             
Kora blinked at her fellow sorceress. “They could only do that through the three of us, which we’d never let happen, and even if we did, they’d have no cause to hurt the boy. Laskenay, I would never stash the
Librette
on Teena’s property without her knowing. She’ll understand the risk. I won’t leave her any doubt. Isn’t this her choice to make?”

             
“Kora, I do not want….”

             
“None of us wants this,” said Menikas. “No one wants possession of that tome, except, well…. I wish the damn thing had never come into existence. But it did, and we have to do something with it.”

             
“Fine.” Laskenay’s hands rolled into fists, not as a mark of aggression, but of discomfort, of defensiveness. “Fine, I’m outvoted again. Perhaps this…. Yes, perhaps this arrangement is best after all. It does hold certain advantages.” And she turned to Kora. “As long as you promise me this woman will know what you, what we’re asking of her.”

             
Kora said, “Come with me. Meet her yourself.”

             
“No.” Laskenay’s face turned pale. “No, I have too much to do here and no reason not to trust you. When will you go?”

             
“Whenever I need to.”

             
“Tomorrow,” Menikas told her.

             
“All right then. I’ll go tomorrow.”

             
Menikas said, “I thought we’d be discussing this for forty, forty-five minutes. Is there anything else? Any news from the spy front?”

             
He was looking at Kora. “Nothing,” she lied.

             
“Then I’m going.” He caught Laskenay’s eye. “If I’m not back by midnight….”

             
“I know what to do.”

             
He grabbed a wig and light coat that hung on the wall. After scooping up some papers and folding them in the jacket lining, he left. Kora could not help herself.

             
“What do you do if he doesn’t make it back?”

             
Laskenay’s voice sounded distant. “Take Ranler and follow his steps before his trail goes cold. It’s a standing arrangement. I don’t expect he’s in greater danger tonight than any other.”

             
“Laskenay?” Kora could never remember Zalski’s sister lacking poise, but she was using her hand to prop up her head, her elbow against the table, and looked frightened despite her words. “I didn’t mean to traipse in here and shoot down all your ideas.”

             
Laskenay forced a smile. “I remember when I met you. You were positively mousy. You’ve come a long way, Kora, and if I didn’t value your opinion, you wouldn’t have been privy to this meeting. Menikas and I could have settled on some compromise. God knows we’ve thought differently before now.”

             
“Laskenay, there
is
something else. I didn’t know how Menikas would take it. You know how he’s been.”

             
The elder woman came back to herself. Her spine straightened like a rod. “What’s Alten up to?”

             
“Have you heard of Jonson Peare?”
             

             
“The name’s familiar. Isn’t he a mayor?”

             
“In Fontferry. Zalski wants to throw the town a big festival, have Peare assassinated, and blame it on us.”

             
Laskenay trembled. Her arm fell to her side. “Zalski’s going to Fontferry?”

             
“Only to give a speech, he’s not interested in staying. Listen, he’ll have soldiers in any city we might try to stash the
Librette
. A
t least his men in Fontferry will be working the assassination, not searching for the spellbook
.
The Tricentennial celebration will be across the river from the inn, but we can take the book to Partsvale while it’s going on. Menikas might not trust that group to keep it long-term, but….”

             
“Yes. Yes, we’ll have to do that, we can’t have the
Librette
around when….”

             
“We could send it off to Partsvale first, even. Bring it to Teena after the Tricentennial.”

             
“No,” said Laskenay. “No, the more I mull this over the more I see…. If Zalski does think we have the book, the safest place for the thing in all of Herezoth just might be with Teena Unsten.”

             
“All right,” said Kora. She threw her legs up on the table and crossed them at the ankle. “What don’t I know about this woman? Who is she? How do you know her?”

             
“I don’t,” insisted Laskenay.

             
“How does Lanokas? Did he know her before the coup?”

             
“I don’t believe so.”

             
“She knew him when we walked into her inn. Is she part of the League?”

             
“Not exactly.”

             
“Then what is going on? Who is she?”

             
Laskenay kept her voice from shaking, but Kora could have sworn only just. “She’s the woman you’re bringing that book to tomorrow, and there’s nothing more to say. Now, this Peare, the mayor, I believe he’s popular?”

             
Kora lowered her legs back to the ground, scowling a bit but doing her best to hide her irritation. “Let’s just say we won’t be if people think we murdered him.”

             
“That’s what I feared.” Laskenay leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. “There’s too much,” she said. “There’s just too much.” And she looked at Kora. “What else do we know?”

             
“We’d know more if Menikas hadn’t made me leave in the middle of Alten’s conference.”

             
“Alten was speaking with Zalski? You should have kept on there.”

             
“You sound like Kansten. Like Menikas would have been happy to oblige me….”

             
Laskenay folded her arms. “Menikas has done more for this group than any person living. You don’t know the half of what he goes through in utter silence. He lives exhausted. Devotes every minute of his time to the League.”