Unholy War (36 page)

Cera swallowed.
I wish she’d left the door open …

Symone turned to face her. ‘She forgets her place and if you don’t remind her, I will.’

Cera said nothing.
Am I right? Is this the creature who killed my sister? What is he –
she?
–doing here?

Symone went to the balcony’s edge as a commotion arose outside: a band of young Jhafi men who had entered the plaza and were shouting at the walls, ‘Shaliyah! Shaliyah! Shaliyah! Death to the infidel!’ Rondian legionaries on the walls ran about doing nothing as more poured into the square. ‘Long live the Sultan! Death to the infidel!’ It had become a nightly ritual, with more joining in each evening.

‘So,’ Symone said, turning to face Cera. ‘I know you know.’

‘Know what?’ she answered timorously.

‘This.’ Symone’s face shifted, flesh and bone moving, hair writhing like snakes, growing shorter then longer, changing colour – white-blond, brunette, auburn, ebony, ginger, grey – as she tried on a myriad faces in a few heartbeats. The one he finished on was like raw flesh, with fang-like teeth and scaly skin, a fright-mask to intimidate her.

Cera kept her face averted during the sickening display, wondering what would happen if she screamed. She’d seen this being naked and exposed when Elena had chained it to the walls of the tower. She’d seen its true form, when it had looked almost pitiful. But there was nothing pathetic about the creature before her now. ‘You’re Coin,’ she blurted at last.

‘Correct,’ the shapeshifter said bitterly. It stalked closer, and Cera found herself powerless to move, even when it laid hands on her forearms and pinned them to her side. A snake tongue slithered from its mouth and tasted her skin. ‘I could rip your heart out, like I did Olivia’s.’ Coin’s eyes bored into hers. ‘I could take your place – no one would know.’

Cera couldn’t help picturing a scaled hand plunging into her chest, ripping through flesh and bone and emerging with her madly pumping heart grasped in its talons. She almost fainted.

Then a rock struck the wall below and the moment was broken. Voices floated up, screaming, ‘SHALIYAH! SHALIYAH!’ The shapechanger’s eyes flickered from her to the gathering mob below and Cera wondered if that rock had saved her life.

When Coin spoke again, the menace had abated subtly. ‘Shaliyah was part of our plan. The southern army was led by an enemy of the emperor. His demise was carefully orchestrated, the sacrifice of a piece on the tabula board.’

Despite her terror, Cera was stunned. ‘You’re saying that your emperor sent his own army into a trap?

‘Duke Echor was a threat to the emperor. I killed his brother when he tried to seize the Imperial throne and now he’s dead too.’

Sol a mio
… ‘How many men were in the duke’s army?’ she asked carefully. Below, the square continued to fill, and songs of celebration rose from the burgeoning crowd.

‘Probably fifteen legions, at least.’ Coin sounded inordinately proud, as if he’d orchestrated it all himself.

Cera did the calculations. ‘Sixty thousand men – two hundred magi – how could such a force be defeated?’

‘They found a way.’

She kept talking, not just to distract the shapeshifter, but because she genuinely wanted to know. ‘What sort of emperor sends his own people into a trap?’

‘Our one.’ Coin’s voice became disdainful. ‘It wasn’t his idea, of course. He’s dumber than Francis Dorobon.’

Cera took that in even as her knees shook and sweat stuck her cotton kameez to her skin. ‘How would you know whose idea it was?’

‘Because it was Gurvon’s.’ The words hung in the air like a boast, as if they were meant to impress her. ‘That’s who you’re up against, Cera Nesti. He rules the rulers. And he belongs to
me
.’ Coin’s voice had gone up an octave in the space of the sentence. The fervour was disturbing, and his body shifted, becoming more female. ‘He brought me back from death, and he’s
mine
.’

He … or she … is in love with Gyle – or maybe it’s only lust, but it’s eating him up.
‘Mater Lune,’ she breathed.

‘We are the power behind thrones, he and I, and we’re going to win.’ Coin’s voice had a belligerence that suggested she was more than a little drunk, but the threat in her voice was plain. ‘And you? You’re in our way, you Noorie bint.’

Cera’s back was pressed to the balcony rail and she was increasingly conscious of the gulf behind her, and how simple it would be for the mage to send her over the edge.

She lifted her chin. ‘Does Gyle know you’re here?’ she asked, desperate to make Coin reconsider the path she was on, because the air between them was charged with impending violence.

Coin blinked, and that was enough for Cera to know that Gyle wasn’t aware, and nor would he approve of her actions. It gave her the courage to stand her ground and not look away.

Coin’s voice rose again. ‘If I were to hurl you from this balcony, the world would call it suicide and move on. Even Francis would barely notice.’ She reached out and gripped Cera’s forearm painfully. Her breath reeked of sour wine. ‘You think you’re a queen, but you’re only a pawn.’ Suddenly the shapeshifter was Symone again, horribly
male
and pressing her back against the rail. ‘We can be rid of you whenever we want, you mudskinned slut.’

But Cera could see through this bluster now to Coin’s dread of losing Gurvon Gyle. ‘Get out before I scream,’ she said firmly.

Coin hesitated, then tried to regain control. ‘The original plan was that I replace you. Perhaps I still will?’ He grabbed Cera’s salwar and pushed her until she was curved backwards over the balcony rail.

She felt her knees begin to go and locked them even as she lifted her chin defiantly.
I survived the early months of Francis and I’ll survive you too, Coin. You cannot break me.

‘Did you kill my sister Solinde?’ she asked suddenly.

She didn’t know where the question came from – it certainly wasn’t self-preservation. But as she stared into the shapechanger’s eyes, her sister’s face suddenly flashed in front of her – and then she realised it was because Coin’s mind was
bleeding
, sending out involuntary thoughts, and that Coin was remembering Solinde right now …

Coin recoiled, his whole expression changing from fury to guilt and self-loathing. He’d raised a hand to strike her, but the blow never fell and instead his hand hung in the air between them, before falling to his side.

His face changed back to the person she’d seen unmasked by Elena: an androgynous face with thin ginger hair and fragile bone structure, and big wet eyes. ‘I never. I swear—’

Cera swallowed. ‘Then who did?’ she demanded.

‘I
liked
her. She was my
friend
.’

‘Your friend?’ Cera stared, disbelieving. ‘When?’

‘In the cell – when I learned her shape – we
talked
. Gurvon told me he wouldn’t hurt her, he said he’d keep her safely out of the way.
He swore!
But then Mara …’ Coin swallowed, almost physically dragging her mind from the memory. ‘It wasn’t Gurvon’s fault …’

‘The Hel it wasn’t,’ Cera snapped.

‘You
must
stop obstructing us.’ This time Coin’s words came out as more plea than threat. ‘Or we –
he
– will hang your brother.
Please.
’

She tried to imagine what it would be like to be this person, for ever caught between genders, forever a freak.
Coin is fixated on Gyle, but I don’t think those feelings are reciprocated.

‘Coin, Gurvon Gyle doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s using you.’

‘No, he
loves
me.’ Coin’s denial stank of desperation. ‘If you were dead, he’d realise …’

Cera felt his urge to violence returning, but she had a weapon now. ‘He lied to you about Solinde.’

Coin started to deny it, but her anger collapsed and her face shifted again, back to Symone. A paroxysm of anguish contorted his visage and he whirled and fled.

Only when Cera was sure Coin was well gone did she sink to the floor, trembling in shock.

Below her, a riot had started, but she was barely aware.

*

‘SHALIYAH! SHALIYAH!’

It was months since the great triumph at Shaliyah, but still the Jhafi weren’t tiring of the chant. Hundreds of young men continued to publically celebrate the victory, screaming taunts and insults, and wrecking and burning whatever was to hand. Gurvon had finally given up turning a blind eye and tonight he’d ordered a Kirkegarde cavalry unit to subdue them; the Church soldiers had gone charging into the people, belabouring whoever came within reach with maces and trampling many more with their horses, killing dozens and injuring hundreds, while Gyle watched from the walls, sipping coffee and trying to control his irritation.

Mara Secordin and Rutt Sordell knew better than to come near him in this mood, instead hovering nearby in case he needed them, but Coin wasn’t so wise. The shapeshifter, wearing her ‘Symone’ guise, stormed up, clearly distressed.

Rutt had just reported seeing Symone leaving the Blood-tower in tears.

I can guess why …

He whirled on her angrily. ‘Yvette, you went to see Cera, despite my order not to.’

‘How do you know?’ Coin blurted stupidly.

‘Because I know
everything
.’ He jabbed a finger into her chest. ‘Why?’

‘I … I told her that if she didn’t stop obstructing us, I’d kill her …’

‘Is that why you went to her? To
kill
her?’

‘No! I just threatened her – she knows about Olivia.’

‘You
revealed
yourself to her?’

‘She had guessed already,’ Coin whined. ‘I wanted to scare her into silence.’

‘So how did that go?’ he demanded sarcastically.

Coin bowed his head. ‘She was very frightened.’

‘So scared that she made you cry, or so I hear,’ he said scornfully. ‘Get out of my sight! Go back to Olivia’s rooms and don’t come out! Play with her dolls – it’s all you’re rukking well good for!’

Coin’s face crumpled.

And I’ve lost her
. Coin had always been damaged goods, but now she was broken. He could see it clearly; the shapeshifter’s whole demeanour had altered. He was on the verge of raising a hand to signal to Mara, but there were soldiers on the parapets above; they might be out of earshot, but they could see him clearly. This was too public.

‘You told me that Solinde would only be imprisoned, not killed,’ Coin said miserably.

Not that again.

During the time she’d spent with Solinde Nesti, right at the beginning of this mission, Coin had begun to sympathise with with the Nesti princess. So he’d lied to her, the only way he could persuade her to get the job done – and then she’d walked in on Mara’s ‘royal meal’, and that had caused Coin’s breakdown while she was with Fernando Tolidi. That in turn had allowed Elena to discover Coin’s involvement.

I should have let the wretch die.

‘I’m not like you,’ Coin whispered. ‘I can’t do all these things and not think about them.’

‘Then go home – run back to Mummy and see if she’ll give you a cuddle.’

‘But you said—’ The shapeshifter wavered, bewildered. ‘My mother—’

‘Lucia doesn’t give a shit about you, Yvette,’ he gritted, his control completely lost, for once telling her the truth, no matter how she might react. ‘She wished I’d let you rukking well die –
now get out of my sight
!’

Her face went white and Mara began to glide closer, and damn, but it was tempting …

Coin backed up, her face mottled, her gnosis glimmering, and Gurvon belatedly remembered that this emotionally broken thing was a pure-blood mage who’d killed a dozen men or more.

He raised his own shields and stepped back.
Rukking Hel! I’ve messed this up badly.
He waved Mara away and reached out a hand, tried to retrieve the situation. ‘I’m sorry, Yvette. I lost my temper – I didn’t mean any of that. I’m stressed – we all are, aren’t we? Please, go back to your room. We’ll talk later, once we’re all calmer.’

He wasn’t sure she would go. For a few seconds, the lost child in her warred with the shapeshifting monster and a dozen subtle changes rippled through her face and body, moving at blinding speed, before she settled into Symone’s form again.

When the shapeshifter spoke, his voice was plaintive. ‘I might be a freak, but I have a heart and a soul.’ His chin wobbled. ‘I’m so scared – every night I dream that Kore will cast me into the Eternal Pit when I die.’

Good grief! After the kind of life she’s had, she’s still a Believer? Incredible …

But she wasn’t coming at him with tooth and talon, and that was good …

‘Damn it, Yvette,’ he murmured in what he hoped was a placatory voice, ‘you must believe me when I tell you that Cera Nesti is nothing to me but a conduit to Elena.’

‘And what am I?’

‘A comrade-in-arms,’ he said quickly. ‘More – you’re someone whose welfare I care about.’

‘Care about,’ she echoed, then, ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means I am concerned for you, Yvette: that’s a lot. I look after my own. You know this. I rebuilt you, Yvette – never doubt that I care.’

She looked utterly confused now, but she clung to those words, as he’d hoped she would. She stammered apologies as she left.

When she was gone he sagged against the wall then glanced at Mara. ‘You’re right, she’ll have to go. But not yet. We’re still too thinly spread.’

‘Coin is a weak link,’ Mara replied in her flat, hungry voice. ‘You notice them more when the chain is short.’

‘I know – but right now there’s just you, me, Rutt and Madeline.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m going to pull more of the team out of Yuros and bring them here – we need to get our numbers up again. For now, we’ll just have to keep an eye on her.’

Mara looked utterly unimpressed. ‘We don’t have enough eyes to do that, Gurv. Let me kill her – I promise you’ll not even find her bones.’

It was tempting … But he shook his head.

Perhaps I’ll regret it later, but for now I can still use her.

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