Chapter 20 - Reap and Sow

The darkness was absolute. Eda’s memory wavered in the narrow passage. All sense of direction was lost. She knew they were trapped in the wall space between the keep and the templehouse, knew it veered right and led to a staircase, but they only discovered it when she stumbled over the first step.

“Found it,” she joked weakly.

Kit took over after that. Tripp had disappeared, his part done, so Eda took his place at the demon’s back. He bade her hold on to his doublet as they ascended. He could see well enough, or so he claimed. He certainly never stumbled as the Shaws did.

Kit had to be in pain. His arm was skewered nearly through. Eda caught sight of bubbled skin around a dripping wound. Was it broken? Tenelle might get the door open and come after them any minute to finish the job.

Ben’s silent judgment was a brand upon her back. No doubt he was itching to interrogate her. She’d come for him and Lawrie—a foolhardy endeavor at best—but with a demon in tow? It was a miracle he hadn’t already begun raving about it.

A gray light appeared ahead, seeping through the cracks of a door.

She knew when Kit transformed by the sound alone: a hissing sigh like vapor rushing over stone. His little body squeezed itself through the gap near the floor. A moment later the handle squeaked open.

They entered a circular roofed turret built on the corner of the templehouse. It was small and seemingly disused, covered in dust and cobwebs as big as blankets. Through the arrow-slit windows, Eda spied the edge of the glazed tile roof and the street below. Dewy ivy swallowed the Botanic Gardens, mist clinging to the cobblestones.

Blackbridge was beautiful. And terrible. Perhaps both could be true.

Kit tested the only other door. It groaned but opened easily. Somewhere far below, a voice echoed.

“Where does that lead?”

“The gallery.”

Lawrie’s throat bobbed. “There are people out there.”

“Then you’d better hope those uniforms serve their purpose and disguise you.” Kit sagged against the wall, left arm bent like a broken wing. The sleeve hung wet and heavy with blood. It ran down his hand and fingers, stark against ashen skin. Ben and Lawrie gave him a wide berth. They’d never seen a demon’s true face before.

Eda stepped closer. “Your arm.”

“It’s fine. Could have been worse, but…” Kit appeared equal parts perplexed and enchanted. “You came back.”

The intensity of his regard made her self-conscious. Ben bristled as though he were about to get between them.

Eda cleared her throat. “Let’s get out of here before Tenelle alerts the whole congregation.”

“Go now, then,” Kit said, “and do not rush. Remain calm.”

“Where are you going?” Ben asked.

“I can’t enter the templehouse without setting off further enchantments. Follow your sister. Cross the gallery and take the stairs down to the main entrance. I’ll meet you at the gates.”

“We’re meant to just walk out the front door?”

“You’re Blades, remember? What’s strange about that?” Kit looked at Eda again—at the naked trepidation that must have lined her face. He moved toward her. Stopped. Set his jaw and turned away.

It took him a strained moment to transform. Eda swallowed her concern as he swept clumsily out the window on dark wings; he would not be able to fly far. She braced herself before leading Ben and Lawrie into the vestibule.

In the gallery beyond, the entire majesty of the Great Templehouse opened up before them like a gilded cavern. The ceiling consisted of undulating cross vaults, pale and trimmed in gold cornice. Windows of colored glass lined the gray-washed stone. The gallery balcony ran around three sides of the templehouse, offering a clear view of the nave below. This area was reserved for visiting dignitaries and wealthy patrons, but today the commonfolk had been permitted access too.

Eda wavered at the sight of the humming crowd. They whispered to one another, stared in rapt attention at the dais below.

She knew the mantle worked, but it was little comfort as she made herself walk straight past them. She needn’t have worried. It was Ben and Lawrie people glanced up at. Ben turned his face away, as though it might hide his swollen eye.

Ahead, an aging wooden door was propped open. The staircase. Eda’s heart tripped with giddy hope. Just a little farther.

“—but now in our hour of greatest need, our prayers are heard. By shedding blood here in this great house of worship, we each of us make a covenant. A promise of eternal devotion.”

Eda paused.

From a lectern of solid gold below, Bishop Fane’s address rang throughout the nave. A line of Blades stood to attention behind him. His cream robes were starched and crisp. “I have consulted with the Council of Clerics. It is my belief that the same power I wield may yet be shared with all of you. His Worship the Patriarch has recognized the blessings bestowed upon me and has wisely permitted this sacred ritual to be offered to any Faithful who seek protection.” Fane’s voice was resonant and commanding. He spoke with the deliberate inflections of a politician, every word achingly earnest. If she didn’t know better, Eda would have believed him.

Anger stirred like bile. How easy it was for him to hide his true face. How effortless.

“Eda.” Ben poked her. People were frowning at them. They were blocking their view.

Below, a great brass bowl sat upon the dais, as big as a carriage wheel. A line had formed between the pews. The first man waiting knelt upon the dais steps. Fane withdrew a small blade.

Her eyes snagged on the scene like fishhooks. What had Kit said? It’s not unheard of for a contract to be signed by many rather than one.

So this was how he’d do it. A mass bloodletting, disguised as a promise of holy devotion. A mixture of countless folk’s blood, ready to be added to a Pact. She watched as Fane spoke in a low voice to the man, who nodded over and over in agreement. The terms, she supposed. One couldn’t take years against a dealie’s will. What was he telling him? What twisted language did he use? Do you offer the years of your mortal life in the name of salvation? Will you freely give whatever the bearer of this power demands?

The man’s hand was cut. Blood dripped into the golden bowl just as Martine Tenelle slipped through the chantry doors.

Saints.

Ben shoved her. Around them, the gallery shifted with curiosity as Fane listened to Tenelle’s whispers in his ear. His eyes flicked upward. Eda didn’t know if he could see her or only her brothers. It didn’t matter. She broke into a run.

They piled down the spiraling staircase. Her whole body ran cold, buzzing just as it had when they’d fled into the cellar the night the Blades came. They can’t take them again. I won’t let them. She’d given fifty years of her life for this. They’d have to cut her down before she saw Ben and Lawrie dragged back into a cell.

The three of them burst into the foyer. The crowd turned in their seats to look. Blades hurried down the sides of the nave, Tenelle leading the way.

“Be calm,” Florian called. He held his arms up, the bloodletting knife gleaming red. “You are all well protected here.”

Tenelle drew her sword.

“Run,” Eda hissed.

They barreled through the doors and into the violet evening light. Three Blades stood at the bottom of the steps, turning in surprise.

Ben brought up his stolen sword. He knew how to use it, theoretically, but he was underfed and weak. Eda had only a knife, and Lawrie nothing at all. Where was Kit?

The Blades rushed them. Ben met the first with a vicious strike, silver clashing against silver.

They don’t see me! Heart pounding, Eda slipped around the second Blade advancing on Lawrie and slashed her knife at his side. The Blade roared, lashing out wildly and nearly knocking her over. Hot blood splashed across the cobbles. She thought of Gregory, and her gorge rose like a summer swell.

The third Blade saw her now. Tall and broad, he could knock her down with one strike, but he didn’t need to; he raised his crossbow. Lawrie cried out in warning.

A flurry of black feathers collided with the Blade’s head, screeching and clawing viciously. The man dropped his weapon, furiously batted Kit away, just as Martine Tenelle appeared atop the templehouse steps.

Ben stumbled clear of his opponent. He was on the defensive—no match for a trained fighter. “Go, both of you!”

Eda grabbed Lawrie by his pilfered doublet and dragged him onto the street. They’d hoped to have Kit take her brothers out of the city on horseback before anyone knew to chase them. No chance of that now. The best they could do was try to outrun the Blades before—

Something knocked her to the ground. Her shoulder took the worst of it. Pain lanced through her side; Eda gasped, stunned. Tried to get her knees beneath her. The cobbles were damp and slippery as she clawed to right herself. A voice cried out, frantic as a trapped animal. Her pains became mere echoes.

Lawrie. Lawrie was screaming. Eda twisted to look.

Her brother writhed as he was dragged across the ground, eyes round with fear.

A fiend had its teeth buried in his calf.

Horror crashed over her like a wave. Eda was momentarily pinned beneath the crushing weight of it. Blood flowed between the fiend’s teeth.

“Lawrie!” She lunged for him. He was jerked away. In her peripheral vision, she saw Ben and the Blades pause in shock. Even Tenelle was struck dumb with horror.

Eda threw herself again at Lawrie. She clung to his shoulders, roared in the creature’s face, “Let him go!”

The fiend’s wrinkled snout smoothed as it unlatched its jaw. She saw her own reflection in its bulging black eyes. It snarled, coppery and rotten.

Ben’s sword came whooshing down. The fiend yowled. Claws scraped stone as it twisted and swiped at him.

“Be gone!” Standing upon the templehouse gates, Fane clutched his vial of colloidal silver. His voice echoed like a crack of thunder across the street. “Be gone, fetid creature of darkness, in the name of the Lordfather! I command it!”

Eda tried to pull Lawrie to his feet, but Ben was already there. Together they got him standing. His trouser leg was soaked with blood.

The fiend snarled. With visible reluctance, it turned and loped away, pale haunches undulating as it raced up the side of the nearest building and over the roof.

Hoofbeats pounded the street. Kit skidded to a halt between them and the templehouse. They boosted Lawrie across his back.

“Orders, Commander,” a Blade called. They hesitated at the templehouse gates, eyeing Kit’s bared fangs—nightmarish and unnatural. Tenelle stood rooted in place, dark eyes cycling rapidly between their bizarre group. Her hand flexed around her sword hilt.

She glanced back at Fane.

The bishop’s cheeks were bloodless as he glared at them, and Eda suddenly understood.

Fane had made a mistake. Perhaps he’d forgotten Ben’s and Lawrie’s faces, or he hadn’t even realized it was them. Either way, he’d unthinkingly set a fiend upon them to stop their escape. If Eda really controlled the vile creatures, she would never attack the same family she tried to save. Tenelle knew it.

Mantle or no, Fane saw Eda now. She nearly smirked at him.

Ben hauled himself onto Kit’s back and held out his hand. “Eda, quick!”

But there wasn’t room for three. She said to Kit, “Get them to Robin. Don’t look for me until they’re safe.”

“What are you—” It was all Ben could do to hold on to Lawrie as Kit took off with uncanny speed. He called her name, but the stallion didn’t slow. They tore down the street in a blur of black and red.

Tenelle snapped out of her stupor. “Get riders now! Follow them!” She pointed her sword at Eda. “Do not make me chase you again, girl.”

Her heart pounded like a drum. “You’ll have to find me first.”

Eda had hidden in plain sight all her life. Clutching the mantle about her shoulders, she took off the way Kit had gone, praying her luck would hold a little longer.