Page 30 of A Steeping of Blood
“How can we do that?” Matteo asked.
Arthie drummed her fingers on the crate. “Ceylan is a centralized refueling port for much of the colonies. To get from Ettenia to wherever else, ships need to stop in Ceylan. I don’t yet know how we’ll smother EJC operations, but I’ll know it when I see it. I’ll make sure I leave my mark. On the other hand, simply by removing the Siwangs from the island, we’ll put a dent in theRam’splans for weaponizing the vampires and expanding her colonies. We also have her ledger, which we know she’s been fairly cross about since we stole it.”
“That leaves the lady,” Flick said.My mother. “The one who revels at events like the tribute.”
Arthie’s head snapped up. “The one who cares for her image. That’s it. The Ram is inviting people across high society for the tribute, a select list of people she wants there to see her carefully curated image.”
“You want to unmask her,” Jin said, catching on begrudgingly.
“Precisely,” Arthie said.
“If she’s inviting a select list of people, I can add to it,” Flick said. “I know of several lords and ladies she’s not fond of who are equally not fond of her. I can make sure personalized invitations get in their hands.”
“Clever girl,” Jin said, and Flick cracked a shy smile.
“I can also scope out the location of the tribute while you’re away,” Flick suggested, even though every part of her wanted to do no such thing. “See if I can find anything on what she might truly be planning?”
Arthie shook her head. “Keep the ship’s ruse going, first and foremost. Forge the invites. Stay safe. I don’t want you dealing with your mother, all right?”
Flick bit her lip and nodded, pretending a wave of relief hadn’t just washed through her.
“Or,” Jin began, “we could wait until a ship is stocked and ready for Ceylan and sneak aboard it. It might mean waiting an extra day until it can set sail, but we’ll avoid stealing an entire EJC ship, and leaving Flick to keep the ruse.”
“I would think Flick can hold a ruse if it means yet another ship of vampires doesn’t get sent over,” Matteo said.
“He’s right,” Arthie said. “We don’t need to transport another load of vampires when we’re aiming for the opposite,andthe tribute is in eight days. We don’t have time to spare. Flick?”
“What?” she asked. “Oh, yes, I agree.”
“It’s settled. Flick will stay behind. Matteo, Jin, and I leave for Ceylan.”
“When?” Jin asked.
Arthie looked among them. “Tomorrow. Matteo, escort everyone back to the Athereum. Jin, Flick, see what more you can find in the ledger about what’s happening on Ceylan. There’s bound to be clues that will help us. I’ll head to the docks now and secure our ship”—she gave Jin a pointed look—“an empty one.”
Flick opened the ledger and picked up her cipher. Instead of an influx of sorrow this time, it calmed her nerves. She had a task, she was a part of something again, and she would give the Casimirs her fullest.
7ARTHIE
As Matteo took the others to the Athereum—a grumpy Jin included—Arthie headed in the opposite direction. She had always walked the streets of White Roaring with the knowledge that people didn’t like her. They stared as if she were an insect under a glass. As if it was acceptable to gobble countries like hers whole, but how dare she deign to walk and live and breathe upon theirs. She had always marched with a sense of caution, but now she was surprised by the unease that accompanied it.
For she was a vampire too.
Matteo spoke of unrest, the papers spoke of anger, but really, the people were afraid. When vampires were being kidnapped, the threat was nonexistent, the act almost deserved. With scores of press dead, and humans disappearing off the street without a trace, the fear had become a real, almost tangible thing. Protesters were hoisting crude weapons and baring their teeth, and Arthie kept her distance, for there was no telling what a cornered animal might do.
She tucked her mauve hair beneath her cap, aware she had three foes: the Horned Guard, the crowds, and the Ram’s black-clad forces. One was for the law, one was in pain, and the third had crushed their moral compass beneath their boots in order to carry out the monarch’s dark bidding. There was every likelihood the Horned Guard was given instructions to apprehend her after that night, and there was everylikelihood someone in the crowds marching the streets might recognize her as the once owner of Spindrift with its open secret of a bloodhouse.
Arthie drifted to the shadows, away from the crowds, away from the Horned Guard, and tightened her hold on Calibore. If the Ram’s black-clad men came, she would be ready. She passed old textile mills and piles of stinking rubbish, edging out of the thick of the city with each step. She stayed vigilant, even if her emotions at the sight of Jin and their ridiculous argument were quickly overtaken by Flick’s discovery and now she could think of nothing else.
Home. Ceylan. That place she’d left, bloody and chaotic.
And the ship she would soon be on. In truth, Arthie wanted as few people on that vessel as possible. As fewhumansas possible, for she did not want a repetition of the first time she was on a boat. She was different now, in tune with her emotions, aware of what she was, but that did little against the overwhelming memories of what she’d done to those people, trapped on a tiny boat, a cage in every way. She did not want to be on a boat, even if, deep down, she’d always known fate would take her back to Ceylan.
She cleared the cluttered alleys and neared the residential streets, where the breeze was crisp and the crowds were thinner. She was about to brave the open air when a hand gripped her arm and pulled her deeper into the shadows. Arthie had Calibore cocked and aimed in heartbeats, ready to blow out the brains of whichever of the Ram’s men dared to touch her.
“I would die for you, darling, but not like that.”
Arthie blinked as Matteo emerged from the darkness, out of place in a setting so dilapidated. “You were supposed to take the others to the Athereum.”
