The Masked City

Greenery outside the window now. The Train seemed to be moving faster and faster all the time, delaying for a shorter period at each stop. Was it just Irene’s perception or were they going more smoothly and more quickly as they went deeper and deeper into chaos?

Aunt Isra kept on talking, and Irene schooled her expression to deep interest, but inside she was turning over the new facts like cards at a Tarot reading. The more obviously a Fae seemed to be playing a role, the more powerful he or she was. Lord Guantes and Silver must be at about the same level, or presumably Lord Guantes would already have destroyed Silver, given their rivalry. Unless the story demanded that they keep at it for a while longer. So did Lord Guantes have his own competing archetype, path, role or whatever you wanted to call it? And was Lady Guantes less powerful? Silver had said that she didn’t have the power to travel across worlds to the extent that Lord Guantes did, and he’d seemed generally dismissive of her. Then again, how far could Silver’s judgement be trusted?

A cold thought formed itself. Lady Guantes might be less powerful as a Fae, perhaps, but cunning enough to throw hindrances at Irene and Vale, and to think of innovative ways to do so. She’d even damaged Vale’s links to the official police. The roadblocks she’d thrown in their pursuit had been practical and sensible, rather than dramatic, exotic or the sort of thing that Silver might have tried. (All right, werewolf ambushes weren’t exactly practical and sensible, but they had almost worked.) Perhaps Lady Guantes’ strength was what Aunt Isra was busy decrying at this very moment. What if she thought like a human rather than a Fae, and so wasn’t limited by archetypal patterns of thought? It was only a hypothesis, but it made an uncomfortable amount of sense.

Another stop. Glowing crystal towers outside the windows. Men and women in billowing silk and velvet veils.

Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to avoid the Guantes pair. But she could take every precaution to stop them recognizing her. And her priority was to find Kai, rescue Kai and escape. She’d leave the vengeance to Kai’s family. She just had to get there, and if there was to be an auction, Kai’s time was running out fast.

She fretted as Aunt Isra finished another peroration on the glories of becoming a more powerful Fae - by sacrificing all friendship with ‘common humans’ - and then Irene raised her hand.

‘Yes, Clarice?’ Aunt Isra said. ‘Your thoughts on the subject?’

Irene blushed, as daintily and modestly as she could. ‘Actually, Aunt Isra, I was wondering if I could ask about the ongoing situation at our destination, and its possible implications. As you said, we are all from limited backgrounds, and I would be very grateful to have a wider point of view before we arrive.’

There was an approving mumble of assent from behind Irene, surprising her by its volume. It sounded as if this was a popular question. It also sounded as if the carriage must have grown a lot larger, to be holding that many people.

Aunt Isra nodded thoughtfully. The carriage lights now lit the compartment harshly, as outside the window it was dark again - a windswept shuddering ocean of black waters. ‘It is true that most of you will have little grasp of the wider implications. Did you once know that a common toast in some armies was “To a sudden plague and a bloody war”?’

A general nodding of heads, Irene included.

‘Lord Guantes, of the seventh-upon-reticulation sphere, has captured a dragon and put him up for auction. Of course, only the greater among us will be bidding, and you children are merely observers. What you may not realize, children, is that there is a good chance this will lead to open conflict between our kind and the dragons. Everything could change. Certainly Lord Guantes will either find himself raised high or brought down low. So you see, child,’ she smiled at the woman in the business suit next to Irene, and there was nothing in her face but simple pleasure, ‘you need not fret so much. New paths are opening to all of us. At midnight tomorrow, at the La Fenice opera house, the dragon will be sold off to the highest bidder. And whichever way the path leads, assuredly it will be a great and magnificent tale for this storyteller to relate.’

There was a rustle as people checked their watches or other timepieces. Irene glanced at her own wrist automatically, not wanting to look out of place, but inwardly her heart had frozen. She had a single day to find Kai. And if she failed to rescue him, the result would be war. She could barely breathe. She wasn’t without skills, but how - how was she going to manage this in a strange city, on her own, by midnight tomorrow …

The Train shuddered, and Aunt Isra glanced out of the window. Beyond the glass there were lights in the distance, spangled across buildings and domes and palaces. Venice. ‘You had best prepare to observe events on the platform, children, or find your patrons. Do not keep them waiting.’

SECOND INTERLUDE - KAI IN THE TOWER

Kai woke to the taste of brandy, and swallowed on reflex before the thought of poison crossed his mind.

The dreadful constant pressure and burn of chaos had gone. For a moment that thought dominated all others. The cold stone and cold metal against his skin were gentle caresses by comparison, and the drag on his arms was unimportant. He was able to think clearly again, to perceive, to reason.

Someone was supporting him and holding his head up, tilting the flask of brandy against his lips. Kai let his eyes flicker open for a fraction of a second, just long enough to see who it was and where they were.

It was his kidnapper, the man they’d called Lord Guantes. Sheer fury spiked through Kai, and he wrenched at whatever was holding his wrists, struggling to pull them free so that he could get his hands around the Fae’s neck.