From my vantage point, I saw nothing but a brief shimmering in the air about the man, and he was through. The old general’s servants came next, one-two-three, their arms loaded with suitcases and bags hanging off every shoulder. The last dragged a trunk. Servants and trunks popped through the shimmering like bugs through a bubble, and Stitches nodded, and a white-coat motioned the next party through.
I caught Evis watching from beside the tent. He saw me, waved, and vanished into the crowd.
Darla returned, two steaming china cups of coffee in her hands, and sat.
“The casino looks different,” she said. “They’ve taken the covers off everything. I suppose they’re open for business, even at this hour.”
“I doubt they close until we finish the trip or sink.”
Darla sipped coffee and closed her eyes.
“Sorry. You know me. Always a Troll until noon, at least.”
“There’s a grand ball tonight.” She opened her eyes. “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
I had.
“Not at all,” I said. “May I borrow your red evening gown?”
“You’re hopeless.” She took another long draught of coffee and stood. “Gertriss is waiting for me. Have a good morning, dear. I’ll see you at lunch. And the red gown will make your hips look like you’ve got pumpkins in your pockets.”
“I treasure your frankness, wife of mine.”
She blew me a kiss and sashayed away.
I drank my coffee and when it was gone I held my empty cup and pretended to drink and I watched the rich folks board, one by one. The brass ring never did more than shimmer, and the guns just above me never spoke-never hurled down fire and death from their pitiless steel maws.
For four hours, the band played and drinks flowed and the ring shimmered. At noon, the velvet rope was replaced, and a fresh wagon of musicians arrived, and another bearing cooks and trays of meat and bottle after bottle of expensive fancy wines.
Stitches took to her ring, poking it with a long metal rod while strange shadows played across its empty face.
Which made me jump, just a bit, when a second Stitches appeared in the empty chair beside me and spoke.
Good morning, Markhat. Her tone was tinged with amusement. I am glad to see you vigilant.
The other Stitches, a good sixty feet away, continued poking at the ring with her glowing metal stick.
“Nice trick,” I said, just mouthing the words behind my empty cup. “You’ll have to teach it to me, some day.”
I have completed the adjustments to the device. But I wanted to speak with you. When I leave, an object will be left behind. Take it. Keep it on your person at all times. And speak of it to no one. Not your wife. Not Evis. No one.
“If I ask what it is, are you going to answer or just vanish?”
It will appear to be a tortoise shell, sealed with black wax.
I damn nearly jumped out of my chair and into the Brown. I did put down my cup so no one would see my hand begin to shake.
“You found one? A huldra?”
No. This is only a crude replica. It will not withstand intense or prolonged scrutiny.
“You said you lacked the skill to even create a simulacrum.”
I did and I do. As I said, it will not withstand scrutiny. But it might buy you a few seconds. What you do with those few seconds is entirely up to you.
“Stitches, what the hell are you trying to say?”
But she was gone.
And there, in the chair, was a small brown tortoise shell, sealed with old black wax.
I didn’t pick it up. Fake or not, it was a perfect physical replica of the thing I’d grasped when I thought Darla dead. I’d taken it up, and I’d told it my true name, and it had burrowed its way down deep into my soul.
I remembered the nights I’d walked with it. I’d grown, until I looked down upon Rannit, until clouds had literally soaked my face and hair. I’d seen things, on those night walks-seen the magic that Stitches and her kin wielded, hidden in folds of shadow that had been right there, all the time.
I’d seen things, and heard things, and most of all, I’d felt the power.
I’d killed while I walked with the huldra. I’d loosed my rage upon the guilty, and I’d torn them limb from limb, without pity or remorse or hesitation. I’d taken what I thought was my vengeance, and I’d loved it. Though in the end I’d crushed the huldra and walked away, a part of me had never forgotten the power, or the sweet, sweet taste of revenge, justly extracted, and furiously applied.
The huldra had taken my name. It had nearly taken my soul. Darla alone brought me back from that dark abyss.
As I recalled those walks, recalled the blood on my hands, I wondered if perhaps some brief shadows born of that abyss now dwelt in me.
Chapter Eleven
I wasn’t allowed to watch the Regent board.
No one was, save perhaps Evis and Stitches and anyone they deemed necessary to the boarding process. Instead, all aboard were all asked to gather on the casino deck for a grand welcome. Free libations were mentioned, and within moments the stampede commenced, and the Queen’s outer decks were clear.
I kept hold of Darla and allowed myself to be herded along. A band started playing, waiters and waitresses dispersed throughout the crowd, and Rannit’s Minister of Commerce harrumphed and mumbled his way through a magnificently dull speech.
I knew when the Regent set foot on the Queen, though. The air rushed for a moment as a subtle but potent spell took hold. I saw a few faces turn this way and that, searching for the source of the sudden brief breeze.
Darla squeezed my arm.
“Was that?”
“It was.” I grabbed a pair of long-stemmed wine glasses from a passing waiter. “Here. Might as well have a drink while we wait.”
Darla took a sip. “Wait for what?”
“Best time to cause trouble would be right now. Before everyone gets settled in, gets all their goodies unpacked.”
She knew who “everyone” was.
Half an hour crept by, second by agonizing second. The Minister of Commerce shuffled off the stage.
The Queen’s stained glass windows went black. The casino was plunged into sudden darkness. Squeals and laughter rang out-none from me.
Candles flared to life on every table. Above us, the massive hanging lights flickered, and a burst of music sounded. As the music swelled, the lights came quickly to life, and the Queen was filled with ethereal, dancing starlight.
Evis himself took the stage, blinking in the sudden glare.
“Lords and ladies, sirs and madams, captains of industry, heroes of the War,” he began, and his voice sounded easily over the music. “I welcome you aboard the jewel in Avalante’s crown-the Brown River Queen!”
Applause drowned out even the most strident notes of the song.
Darla was clapping, her display of enthusiasm somewhat hindered by the gun in her right hand and the wary look in her eyes.
“As we welcome you to a new era of entertainment and luxury, I am proud to reveal that we are accompanied by a very special guest. For you travel with none other than the Regent himself, who has graciously agreed to make the Queen’s maiden voyage truly historic by lending us his presence.”
The crowd clapped louder and faster, even as they exchanged shocked glances.
“On behalf of House Avalante and the crew of the Queen, I bid you all welcome. And now, by order of the Regent himself, let us be underway, and let the celebration begin!”
Trumpets blew. The crowd, well-fueled by equal parts booze, surprise, and in many cases, terror, roared like the host of Hell.