Fate of the Free Lands E-Book

Jack Campbell

• Herausgeber: JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Empress of the Endless Sea
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 524

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Trapped inside the Empire, Captain Jules of Landfall has to use every deadly trick and strategy she knows to avoid recapture by the Emperor's legions, and stay alive despite every attempt the Mages make to kill her. The only chance to get away may require walking back into the trap she barely escaped the first time. But even her freedom won't be enough. The prophecy that consumes Jules's life demands she has an heir to carry on her line. Yet how can she satisfy that while being hunted everywhere? And what might the prophecy cause to happen if she doesn't have a child? Battling wind, waves, implacable Mage assassins, and Imperial ships, Jules is forced to turn to an unlikely ally—the hated Mechanics. She must gather men, women, and ships from all of the new settlements to face the Imperial legionaries and galleys. For only Jules can lead the free people of the west in the final battle that could be their salvation—or the destruction of all that she's fought for.

Leseprobe

FATE OF THE FREE LANDS

Copyright © 2020 by John G. Hemry

All rights reserved.

Published as an eBook in 2020 by JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.

Originally published as in Audible Original in March 2020.

ISBN 978-1-625675-04-0

Cover art by Dominick Saponaro

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.

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[email protected]

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Also by Jack Campbell

ToLee Martindale, Bard of the Musketeers.Fortus Stylus Gladio, Sed Prudens Ambos Portat.(“The Pen is Mightier than the Sword, but the Wise Person Carries Both.”)For S, as always

Acknowledgements

I remain indebted to my agents, Joshua Bilmes and Eddie Schneider, for their long standing support, ever-inspired suggestions and assistance, as well as to Karen Bourne and Adriana Funke for their work on foreign sales and print editions, and Susan Velazquez for lots of other stuff. Many thanks to Betsy Mitchell for her excellent editing. Thanks also to Catherine Asaro, Robert Chase, Kelly Dwyer, Carolyn Ives Gilman, J.G. (Huck) Huckenpohler, Simcha Kuritzky, Michael LaViolette, Aly Parsons, Mary Thompson, and Constance A. Warner for their suggestions, comments and recommendations. And, of course, thank you to Steve Feldberg for his strong support.

Chapter One

Landfall, oldest of cities, had seen many things. But never before a battle on the waterfront between Mages and one of their monsters on one side, and the Emperor’s legionaries and sailors on the other. Mages were well-known for their inhuman and arrogant actions, but even they had never launched such an attack outright. Rumor raced through the city faster than the crowds fleeing the waterfront, citizens whispering among themselves that there could have been only one possible reason why the Mages would do such a thing.

She must be in Landfall.

* * *

The cutpurse lurking in the side alley amid stacks of refuse had only a moment to realize that he’d chosen the wrong victim this time, as the woman in the hooded cloak used the folds of her garment to catch and divert the thrust of his knife. Before he could react, the woman’s dagger was plunging into his breast, piercing his heart, and ending his criminal career for good.

Jules of Landfall knelt beside the killer’s remains, going through his pockets. “I might’ve spared your life,” she commented to his body, “except that your first thrust was a killing move. I only grant mercy to those who show mercy to others.”

She found a purse containing enough money to convince Jules that she hadn’t been the man’s first victim that night. Hopefully the first one had escaped harm. The purse didn’t hold a lot of money, though; a couple of silver galleys, and several copper shields, but not a single gold eagle. However, since she hadn’t had any money on her at all before this, it represented a welcome find.

Jules pocketed the money, discarding the purse. Looking up past the aged brick walls of the buildings rising on each side of the alley, she could see the sky beginning to pale with the first rays of dawn, the growing light battling against the haze of smoke as waking households and businesses lit coal and wood for fires. On the street she could hear the slow clop of horseshoes and the rattle of wheels on the cobblestones as milk deliveries were made. A quiet, normal, peaceful morning, very different from the chaos of the night before. The rapid thud of horses being ridden fast echoed from the aged bricks. Jules faded back against the nearest wall, catching quick glimpses of Imperial cavalry as they rode past the entrance to the alley, their brightly-polished chest armor dull in the still-shadowed street, their lances pointing upward like a deadly thicket.

The cavalry was headed in the direction of the waterfront. Was the Mage troll still alive and fighting? That seemed too much to hope for. More likely, the cavalry were being called in to help search for her.

The last trooper rode past, the sound of rapid hoof beats fading. Even after all these years, the sight of legionary cavalry tore at her. Her father had served in the Emperor’s cavalry until his death while chasing bandits in the mountains known as the Northern Ramparts.

Jules shifted her gaze to the south, where she’d been raised in Landfall’s Imperial orphan home after her mother died as well during childbirth. Even if she hadn’t hated the place, with its strict rules and harsh guardians and inadequate food and clothing, she wouldn’t have considered it as a place of refuge now. It’d be hard enough to avoid being recognized elsewhere in the city. She’d left that orphan home only a few years ago, so there were plenty of officials and others there who’d know her on sight.

Jules smiled slightly, remembering how proud most of the other kids had been when she earned the chance at an Imperial officer’s commission. Were they still proud of her?

The camp outside Landfall where she’d received training to become an officer in the Imperial service lay to the east of the city. Another life, when she’d stubbornly sought the right to wear the dark red uniform of the Empire as proof that she, an orphan, was the equal of anyone. That ambition, that goal, had ceased to matter, had become impossible, when a Mage had looked at her and pronounced the prophecy that had upended her life. The day will come when a daughter of your line will unite Mechanics, Mages, and the common folk to overthrow the Great Guilds and free the world. Not a long prophecy, but long enough to act as a death sentence in the eyes of the Mages and to make her an obsession of the Emperor.

Jules looked west, to where the Sea of Bakre lay. Somewhere out there, hopefully, the pirate ship Sun Queen still sailed. But, she, the Sun Queen’s captain, couldn’t hope for help from that quarter. The crew had no idea where she was, and even if they knew couldn’t hope to fight their way through Imperial forces to reach her. They had a more important task to carry out, anyway.

For a moment, her eyes saw not the brick of the buildings lining the alley, but the limitless waters to the west. For as long as the history of the world of Dematr went back, which admittedly wasn’t very far, humanity had been confined to the eastern part of the Sea of Bakre where the Empire ruled. Every chart, every legend, described the west as a deathtrap of hidden reefs and desert shores. But she’d gone there, she’d seen the truth, she’d discovered new lands and a strait that led to another sea and then the ocean itself. The chart made on that journey had to be copied, had to be shared with as many people as possible, so that the knowledge in it could never be suppressed by the Great Guilds or the Empire.

The vision from her memory faded, leaving her once again in the trash-strewn alley. She took another glance at the sky, trying to measure the time. The throng of fearful citizens fleeing the fight on the waterfront had mostly dissipated. Merging with the crowds of workers and other citizens who should soon be populating the morning streets would be her only hope of not being quickly spotted by the legionaries and police doubtless already combing the city for her. Not to mention the Mages who’d been disappointed in their attempts to kill her last night.

Down on the waterfront, the wreck of the Imperial sloop that had brought her to Landfall had probably sunk by now after burning to the waterline. Imperial police—often corrupt, but extremely thorough when the Emperor’s eyes were on them—would be searching the wreckage to confirm that she hadn’t died while still chained in the ship’s brig. Legionaries who’d caught glimpses of her during the chaotic battle as the Mage troll smashed the ship, the pier, and anything in its way, would be undergoing interrogation to confirm they’d seen her.

That led her thoughts to something she’d been trying not to think about. Or rather, someone. Lieutenant Ian of Marandur, who’d given her the keys to escape her chains on that ship, and who might’ve been badly injured (or worse), fighting that Mage troll. Worries about the fate of her once-friend and former fellow officer tore at her. She couldn’t afford such a distraction, though, not while being hunted through this city. Jules did her best to put aside her concerns about Ian, which she told herself were after all only based on their friendship, so she could concentrate on surviving.

Because in addition to the Imperial forces hunting her, the Mages, putting together their own picture of their latest failed attempt to kill her and eliminate any chance that the prophecy would someday come to pass, would be using their mysterious skills to find her again.

How many times had she wished that she’d never walked into that tavern, found herself face to face with a Mage, and heard the prophecy spoken?

That left the Mechanics, the other Great Guild. The Mechanics would be sitting back enjoying watching the Empire and the Mages in conflict, while also trying to avoid involving their own Guild in that fight. Between them, the Mechanics and the Mages ruled the world, using the Emperor (or Empress) as their agent to control the common people, though saying such a thing outright was treason within the Empire. With the current Emperor chafing at the bonds of the Great Guilds, and the prophecy roiling a world in which change had never occurred, Jules had learned the Mechanics were willing to use her to further their own ends. But that was as far as it went. Plenty of Mechanics would be just as happy as the Mages to see her die, and some of them wouldn’t be sorry to be the ones responsible. She couldn’t hope to find safe harbor with the Mechanics here in Landfall, even if the Imperial police probably hadn’t already thrown up a cordon to keep her from reaching the Mechanics Guild Hall.

Jules jerked about as something skittered through a nearby stack of wooden pallets. A rat, of course. She was so rattled that she was starting at rats, despite having become well-acquainted with them while in the orphanage.

She leaned back against one of the buildings, slowing her breathing to calm herself. There hadn’t been time to think since she left the waterfront, all of her attention centered on looking like one more citizen fleeing the melee. Now her thoughts skittered about, trying to organize everything that had happened since Mages had attacked her ship not far from Dor’s Castle. She’d been knocked overboard during that fight, and the Imperial warship had captured her to bring her unwilling self back to the Emperor. Then—as she’d warned the captain of the Imperial ship would happen—the Mages had attacked to try to kill her when the ship reached Landfall.

Hopefully the woman she’d stolen this cloak from had been all right once she regained consciousness.

Hopefully Ian was still alive. And hopefully not under arrest for giving her the keys to unlock her manacles. It had been the only way to keep the Mages and their troll from killing her, but would the Imperial authorities give Lieutenant Ian any credit for that?

Hopefully she’d be able to figure out where to go from this alley.

Jules tried to center her thoughts. The waterfront, even if it hadn’t been the site of the recent fighting, was the most obvious place for an attempted escape. There’d be legionaries and police stationed a lance apart along the whole waterfront and every pier. She’d have no chance of getting through there.

South offered some chance of escape if she could get through the gates of the city in that direction, but the land south of Landfall was fairly flat and open, the bread basket of the Empire. It wasn’t the best terrain for someone who couldn’t afford to be seen.

North offered the best chance for finding an unguarded boat in one of the towns along the coast. But the Imperials knew that as well as she did. They’d have extra guards on the north gates of the city, and along the roads, and would be watching everything that could float between here and Sandurin.

Which left going east, but that was the last direction that Jules wanted to go. East would take her along the heavily-traveled Ospren River toward the Imperial capital at Marandur, where the Emperor sat, eager to get his hands on her for a forced marriage and equally forced production of royal heirs who could claim the legacy of the prophecy for the Imperial line.

And no matter which direction she went, she had to worry about the Mages knowing it as soon or sooner than she herself did, and laying another ambush for her.

What do I do, Mak? Jules often missed the man who’d become a second father to her, but she felt it especially now, trapped within a city full of enemies. What would Mak suggest?

He’d always said the best way to fool people was to show them what they expected to see. So, what did the Imperials expect her to do? Try for the waterfront, of course. If not that, try to go north, or maybe south if north looked too risky.

The one direction they wouldn’t expect her to go was east. Because east was the last direction she should want to go. East was where the Imperials had planned on taking her in chains.

She knew the east gates of the city, though. She’d even stood guard at one of those gates while in her early training.

Jules took another glance upward, seeing the sky a bit brighter. By craning her head slightly, she could see a growing number of people walking past the alley where she was hiding. Was it enough? The longer she waited, the more Imperial police and legionaries would be on the streets searching for her and putting up checkpoints to screen everyone going past.

Jules settled the cloak about her, gathering together the part where the thief’s knife had cut the fabric so it wouldn’t be noticeable and ensuring the hood was settled to block a view of her face except from close in front. Walking to the street, she stepped out onto it as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Aside from passing side-glances from those who saw her leave the alley, no one appeared to take notice. Jules went down the street, wondering how long she’d be able to keep the cloak on and the hood up as the day warmed before people would start to notice.

A waft of delicious scent took her thoughts in another direction, reminded her that the last time she’d eaten had been a long time before, and that she’d had nothing but bread and water while a prisoner of the Imperial sloop. A quick look around identified the source of the smell, a food cart selling hot breakfast pastries.

Buying anything would require some interaction and the chance of discovery, but if she didn’t get something to eat and drink her body wouldn’t keep going. Jules altered her path to reach the cart, waiting impatiently until she reached the front of the line of customers.

“Three,” Jules mumbled in a deliberately hoarse voice, grateful that for once what the wanted posters called her ‘lower class Landfall accent’ would help her blend in. “And a flask of sang.”

The young girl serving the customers didn’t take any special notice of Jules, passing over three hot pastries that Jules slid into a pocket of the cloak, and a flask of the wine, water, and fruit pulp called sang. Knowing she’d have to return the flask when she was done with it, Jules took the risk of staying by the cart. Hastily eating one of the pastries containing a common Landfall recipe combining pork and apples, she washed it down with gulps of the sang.

Three Mechanics, two men and a woman all wearing the unmistakable dark jackets, walked past the food cart. One of the men reached out and snagged a pastry, making no move to pay for it. The owner of the cart glared at the backs of the Mechanics as they swaggered away, but knew better than to object. Mechanics did what they wanted, and common people endured it because they had no other choice.

Jules’ gaze lingered on the Mechanics as they walked off. One of the men had a weapon at his waist, the one Mechanics called a revolver that no sword or crossbow used by common folk could match. The Mechanics Guild had loaned a revolver like that to Jules in the hopes that she’d kill Mages with it, but the last she’d seen of that revolver it had been lying on the deck of her ship after being knocked from her grasp. What if she had that weapon now? But there had only been one or two cartridges left in it, and using the revolver would make a noise so loud every legionary and Mage within earshot would come running for her. A dagger was the safer option for someone trying not to be noticed.

Seeing a Mechanic openly armed was unusual. Were the Mechanics in Landfall worried about Mage attacks? Surely, despite what Jules had overheard Mechanics say to each other, they weren’t concerned about the Imperials turning on them. That would be unheard of, and incredibly dangerous for the Empire. No common person knew how the mysterious technology of the Mechanics worked—though everyone knew trying to learn those secrets would result in death at the hands of the Mechanics—and no common person knew everything the Mechanic devices could do.

The other patrons of the food cart waited until the Mechanics were far enough off that they couldn’t overhear before resuming gossiping among themselves as they wolfed down food before heading to work. “Already on her way to Marandur,” one man said confidently. “I’ve got a cousin in the legions. He said they got her away from the Mages and she’ll be with the Emperor soon.”

“Then why are the police and the legions still ransacking the city?” another man demanded.

“Maybe they’re looking for those Mages that attacked the Emperor’s soldiers!”

“They’re looking for the girl,” a woman chimed in. “My brother is with the police. Find the girl of the prophecy. That’s their orders.”

“Why wouldn’t she turn herself in?” the first man asked.

“Maybe the Mages were able to do something even though they couldn’t kill her,” the woman suggested. “Take over her mind. Mages can do that.”

“Why not just kill her?” the second man said.

“Are you asking me why Mages are doing one thing and not another?” the woman demanded. “Nobody knows how they think.”

Jules, resisting the urge to ask all three why it didn’t occur to them that the “girl” might not want to end up in the hands (and the bed) of the Emperor, drained the flask and pushed off into the morning crowds. At least she’d learned that the police were definitely searching for her.

Holding a second pastry next to her mouth as if nibbling it as she walked, which served to hide the lower half of her face under the hood , Jules took a wide main street heading east. A secondary street might have been less likely to be watched, but the crowds were bigger here and easier to get lost in.

Wagons, coaches, and carts traveled both ways down the center of the street, the horses pulling them looking resigned to their fate as they ignored most of the people walking past. An occasional carriage bearing a high-ranking Imperial official or rich merchant stood out due to the high-stepping pair of horses drawing it. Chickens and pigs in cages on some of the carts and wagons eyed the people in the street, unaware that they were headed for a butcher shop and eventually the kitchens of some of those people. People called to each other in the Landfall accent that Jules had grown up hearing. The air held the mingled scents of manure, massed humanity, sweaty horses, burning coal and wood, and the occasional waft of food cooking. It was all enough to make Jules a bit homesick for the city even though she’d never wanted to return here.

Any growing feelings of being home vanished as a wagon carrying Imperial police rattled through the crowds, bypassing the other horse-drawn conveyances, the people on foot scattering to make way. Because that was part of the bargain that Imperial citizens had to live with regardless of whether or not they liked it: the Empire gave them stability and rules and security, and in return the citizens were expected to follow all the rules and do as they were told.

She’d gone three long blocks east before Jules spotted legionary armor ahead and the dark red of an Imperial officer’s uniform. Looking through the crowd, she saw the legionaries moving portable barriers into place to establish a checkpoint. Citizens were already obediently forming into a wide queue to pass through, knowing that trying to avoid the checkpoint would attract attention from the Imperial soldiers.

Jules glanced around, seeing that the side roads were also being blocked off. The legions were efficient in all they did.

I’m not trapped yet. Stay calm and think. She paused as if reading a sign in the window of a business, trying to decide whether she could hide inside one of the nearby buildings until the checkpoint was moved.

Maybe she could still unobtrusively start walking the other way.

But when Jules turned about she saw four Mages coming down the street, easy to spot not only because of their distinctive robes, but because of the wide, empty area around them as every common person tried to avoid getting too close to or in the way of the Mages.

As the old saying went, she was trapped between a brick wall and a bull.

Did the Mages already know she was on this street, or were they looking for her? Jules saw the Mages paying an unusual amount of attention to the people around them, making those people extremely nervous. It was a search then. They hadn’t spotted her yet.

Jules took another look at the checkpoint in the other direction, seeing the orderly queue formed by the citizens moving forward at a snail’s pace. She’d never get past that checkpoint undetected by the legionaries.

Unless the legionaries had something else to worry about. Something big.

Maybe the best way out of this was to let the Mages see her.

Knowing her chances were dwindling by the moment, Jules turned to fully face the oncoming Mages, who were still a ways down the street. Partly lowering the hood of her cloak, she looked directly at the Mages.

No common ever looked straight at a Mage. No common wanted the attention that might attract from a Mage.

The Mages noticed, two of them pausing to look back at Jules across the distance separating them.

She didn’t think the Mages could recognize her from this far away, but had learned that Mages could somehow tell she was the woman of the prophecy just by laying eyes on her. Some Mages could do that, anyway.

And at least one of these Mages must have had that ability, because all four suddenly began moving fast, running toward Jules as frantic citizens scattered out of their path.

Hoping she hadn’t just doomed herself, Jules turned and bolted toward the Imperial checkpoint, weaving through the thickening crowd so that the Mages could no longer see her. If a Mage can see you, a Mage can kill you, the old warning went. She didn’t have to make it any easier for them by staying in sight.

Ducking under the noses of a pair of horses who snorted in surprise, their heads snapping up to search for danger, Jules shoved her way forward, drawing angry comments from those waiting stoically to get through the checkpoint. With the crowd thickening, forcing her way through was getting harder.

Shouts of alarm sounded behind her, warning that the Mages had reached the rear of the crowd. The shouts changed to screams as the Mages pulled out their long knives and began hacking at anyone in their way. The crowd convulsed like a single creature, waves of fear rolling through it, those closest to the checkpoint looking back to try to see the source of the screams.

“Mages!” Jules cried, pitching her voice high like someone badly frightened. “They’re killing everyone!”

The front of the crowd wavered, caught between fear of the Mages and Imperial rules.

Jules saw a couple of legionaries climbing up onto the wagon they’d come in, crossbows tensioned and at the ready, trying to get a view of what was happening at the back of the crowd.

One of the legionaries made the mistake of pointing his crossbow in the general direction of the Mages.

Lightning ripped through the air above the crowd, accompanied by the deafening boom of thunder. The legionary’s crossbow exploded into splinters as the lightning hit it, knocking the legionary back off the wagon.

Jules only had a moment to wonder if the Mage who’d sent that lightning was the same one who’d tried to kill her off the Bleak Coast. An instant later the entire crowd went from uncertain and fearful to erupting into wild panic.

Clamoring in fear, the crowd rushed the checkpoint, overwhelming the portable barricades and ignoring the swords the legionaries drew to try to intimidate them. Jules stayed with them as the mob of citizens stampeded down the street, swamping the legionaries and their officer as she tried to call out orders. Horses squealed in fear, bolting forward and plowing paths through the people ahead of them. The barricades blocking the nearest side streets vanished under the tide of fleeing men, women, and draft animals, Jules picking one of those side streets and trying to stay with the crowd. She felt as she were caught in a rushing river of humanity, the current of frightened bodies too powerful for the efforts of one person to fight.

Working her way to the edge of the crowd, Jules managed to duck into another street, feeling the pressure around her lessen as fewer people surrounded her. Most of those on the street were still running, so Jules dodged again into the next street over, slowing her pace to a fast walk. The buildings around her blocked a lot of noise, but she could hear legionary horns sounding streets away as the alert spread, an alarm bell being rung, and the rapid clacking of Imperial police rapping out coded messages to each other by striking the cobblestones with their hardwood clubs. Under all of those distinct sounds continued the indistinct rumble of frightened crowds shouting and running.

Realizing that she’d lost her sense of which direction she was going, Jules ducked into an alley to catch her breath and orient herself. Just inside the alley was a small pile of bricks against one wall where someone was repairing it, so she stopped beside the bricks.

She’d only taken two deep breaths when a Mage turned the corner and was upon her in an instant, the Mage’s long knife sweeping toward her.

Chapter Two

Just about every common facing a Mage, including Jules herself not so long ago, would’ve been at least momentarily paralyzed with fear. Just about every common would’ve died. But Jules had confronted enough Mages by now to not succumb to the fear.

Pulling out her dagger and bringing it up in a frantic parry, Jules managed to partially divert the Mage’s strike. But the tip of the long knife sliced into her upper arm, the force of the blow knocking the dagger from Jules’ grasp.

Her free hand already coming up, Jules’ fist slammed into the Mage’s face.

As her attacker staggered back, Jules bent enough to grab a brick.

The Mage lunged forward again, knife raised for another blow.

Instead of flinching away, Jules ducked inside the attack, swinging the brick she held against the Mage’s head.

The impact slammed the other’s head back to strike the nearby wall, the thud of the brick hitting followed almost immediately by the thunk of the second impact. The Mage fell like a rag doll, dropping into a limp heap on the floor of the alley.

Her breath coming fast and harsh, Jules eyed the Mage warily for a moment to be sure the Mage was unconscious. Pausing only to pick up her dagger, Jules quickly stepped out onto the street, searching for any other Mage that might have followed her.

Despite her fears, no other Mages were in sight among the laggard citizens fleeing the earlier fight. Stepping back into the alley and dropping the brick, Jules checked her injury, seeing that the Mage knife had torn a wide slash in Jules’ cloak. The cut in her arm wasn’t too deep, fortunately, but it was bleeding badly.

Jules picked up her dagger and ripped a length of fabric off the cloak, wrapping it around her upper arm where the cut was, using her teeth and one hand to manage a knot. Having done all she could to stop the bleeding, Jules glared at the Mage, her dagger at the ready.

But after killing this one, what chance did she have of getting out of this city now that the cloak was torn and slashed? Its ragged state would attract more attention than her not wearing it, and there wasn’t anything else she could use to disguise her appearance.

Except…

Jules looked down at the Mage, wondering if she dared do what she’d thought of. No one disguised themselves as a Mage. Aside from no one wanting to be shunned as Mages were, the danger of what the Mages would do if someone was caught pretending to be one of them was sufficient to keep anyone from even thinking of doing that.

But every Mage already wanted to kill her. And so far they hadn’t done any of the other things to her that rumor claimed Mage spells could do, from making parts of her disappear to changing her into a small animal or insect. Or taking over her mind, for that matter.

She fought down a shudder of revulsion as she pulled off the Mage’s robes. They stank, because most Mages never seemed to bathe, so that Jules felt ill at the idea of wearing them. But avoiding being killed, or captured and put into chains again, was more than enough motivation to override her squeamishness.

Jules turned back to the Mage, knowing that every living Mage was one more person trying to kill her. She hated killing a helpless opponent, but such scruples were an unaffordable luxury at the moment.

But her hand holding the dagger didn’t move as Jules stared at the Mage. With her robes pulled off, the Mage was revealed as a young woman, perhaps within a few years of Jules’s own age. Senseless from the blows to her head, the Mage had lost the carefully maintained lack of feeling or expression that made common people tremble at the sight of what they called dead faces on living Mages. Instead, the Mage’s loose features resembled that of any other girl her age lost in sleep. Except that with the robe removed Jules could see the myriad of scars on the Mage’s face and body, scars that every Mage seemed to share in permanent record of whatever brutal treatment changed them into Mages.

Jules knew she could, reluctantly, kill an unconscious Mage. But she couldn’t kill an unconscious young woman with marks of abuse all over her.

Growling in frustration, Jules knelt by the Mage, whose long hair had apparently rarely been cut. It was a tangled mess, but Jules got some long bundles of hair sorted out and cut them loose to use as rope, binding the Mage’s hands and feet. Hair didn’t take to knots nearly as well as rope did, but Jules tightened the knots enough that hopefully they’d hold.

Jules pulled on the robes she’d just stolen over the remains of the cloak she’d stolen last night. She wanted to minimize the amount of her skin that would touch the Mage robes, and she thought it would help hide the shape of her body. Anything that made her look less like Jules would be good.

The robes weren’t quite her size, but close enough. Jules pulled up the cowl to cover her head and make it hard to see her face. She couldn’t manage the Mage dead-face expression, instead trying her best to look impassive, but since everyone avoided looking directly at Mages no one should notice.

Of course, if she ran into more Mages her imposture could get very ugly very fast. And the legionaries would be on high alert for further attacks from Mages, so her disguise would get a lot of attention.

But there weren’t any better alternatives.

Jules, having decided on which direction east lay, stepped out onto the street.

And nearly darted away as every person nearby jolted with surprise and fear, hastily putting distance between themselves and her.

It took her a moment to realize that this was the result she wanted and should expect. She’d gone from trying to avoid being noticed to being someone who’d be very much noticed. But not as herself. As someone everyone else would try to avoid.

Jules started walking east, hearing the tumult on nearby streets of the earlier fight and panic beginning to subside. She didn’t have to weave her way through any crowds, because people kept opening a clear path for her, frightened of blocking or inconveniencing a Mage.

She’d never paid that much attention to how Mages walked, because like everyone else she kept her eyes averted. Jules tried to maintain a steady pace, not too fast but not slow, walking with a firm stride that she hoped didn’t display any un-Mage-like emotion. She had to constantly remind herself not to look around, because Mages rarely showed any obvious interest in their surroundings.

Her gait almost faltered when two more Mages came into view, heading in the other direction, on the other side of the street. Did Mages use their powers to exchange greetings unseen and unheard by common people? If so, she’d soon find out. Resting one hand on her dagger under her pilfered Mage robes, and trying not to wince at the resultant pain from moving her injured arm, Jules maintained her steady, unvarying pace.

As far as she could tell, the Mages didn’t look her way as they walked past. Jules followed them as long as possible through the corners of her eyes, but the edge of the cowl blocked her vision before the Mages even passed her. And she couldn’t turn her head to look without acting oddly for a Mage.

Sweating under the robes, Jules held her dagger tightly, listening for any hint that the Mages might’ve turned and were approaching her from behind.

It finally occurred to her to watch the common people in front of her. Their worried eyes avoided looking toward Jules, but as far as Jules could tell they weren’t reacting to anything behind her. And they didn’t seem more alarmed than usual around a Mage, as they should’ve been if two more Mages were coming up fast. It was a tenuous reassurance at best, but it was all she had.

Jules kept walking, gradually relaxing as no attack came.

It felt increasingly odd, though. Not having to worry about wending around other people left plenty of time to just think and notice her surroundings. On the one hand, everyone avoided looking at her. Not in the usual manner of people not really paying attention to those around them, but in a very obvious I’m-not-looking-at-you way. She’d never thought about how such a thing would seem to a Mage.

Then again, Mages didn’t seem to see such things in the same way as typical people. Perhaps they didn’t even notice how other people reacted around them.

At the same time, the way everyone cleared a path for her was something she could definitely get used to. It made the simple act of walking so much easier. This must be how Mechanics or Imperial princes felt too, when they were out on the streets. If she were a Mechanic, how easy would it be to accept this sort of thing? It set her apart in a different way than the Mage robes did, apart in a manner that would easily reinforce any feeling of superiority over others. Was that why people like the Mechanics and Imperial princes insisted on others always deferring to them? Not just because it made them feel special, but because it provided a constant reassurance that they deserved such special treatment?

Jules almost badly broke character by laughing at herself. These people weren’t clearing a path before her because she was Jules of Landfall. It wasn’t about her. They were giving her special treatment because she was wearing Mage robes, and they’d do the same if she wore the jacket of a Mechanic, or had the retinue of an Imperial prince with her. And people weren’t acting that way out of respect, but because they had no choice or feared the consequences of not clearing a path for her.

Did Mechanics or Mages or princes ever think about that?

Probably not.

In the west, common people wouldn’t be ruled by princes or emperors. Not if she could help it. There wasn’t much she could do about Mechanics or Mages, though. The Great Guilds were something the daughter of her line would have to take care of someday.

Usually she’d feel resentful when thinking about that daughter who’d upended her life and dominated how just about everyone else thought of her. But thinking of how that daughter might humble the rulers of the world cheered up Jules, and made her happier that someone descended from her would accomplish such a thing.

Or, rather, would accomplish such a thing if Jules herself lived long enough to have any children.

A group of legionaries marched past, heading in the other direction. None of them looked at her, but Jules didn’t need Mage skills to see the tension in them as they avoided even glancing her way. More than one of the legionaries had a death grip on the hilt of their sword. Word must have gotten around about Mages attacking the crowd at the checkpoint, and that Mages were sometimes attacking Imperial soldiers. But the legionaries at least weren’t going to start a fight.

Had anyone yet figured out that each of the attacks had involved Mages trying to get at Jules? Imperial officials must be scrambling to come up with a proper response to the unprecedented attacks by Mages on Imperial forces. Certainly, in the past, Mages had occasionally struck out at individual soldiers or officials who had the misfortune to attract their attention. But there hadn’t been anything like these repeated group attacks.

At least, none she’d ever heard of.

Jules again had to resist the urge to look around in a way no Mage would normally do. How much of what she knew of her world was true? The charts and accompanying legends claiming that the western half of the Sea of Bakre was a death trap had been lies. And she’d overheard Mechanics saying the Empire had been “set up” that way. Set up by who? The official history of the Empire claimed that the first Emperor, Maran, had risen out of a period of barbaric anarchy to establish order, had founded the first cities of the Empire, and then constructed Marandur as a new capital. Had it happened that way? Where had the Mechanics been during that supposed period of anarchy? And the Mages?

She had no way of discovering the answers to questions she’d never imagined while growing up or in training as an Imperial officer. But her enforced association with Mechanics and encounters with Mages had rattled everything she’d once thought she’d known.

Another checkpoint loomed ahead.

Jules put her head down to further hide her face, slowing her pace slightly to give the citizens waiting in the queue at the checkpoint time to shove themselves to either side, leaving a narrow but clear aisle for her to walk down, the fear of the men and women closest to her so strong as to almost feel like a physical pressure.

It made her feel ill. She wanted to be respected. She wanted people to treat her right. But not this kind of dread at the sight of her. She’d met people who seemed to enjoy creating such feelings in others, and never understood why they found happiness in it. As she walked that narrow lane between terrified people the miasma of fear almost choked her.

How could Mages live, feeling such reactions from others? Maybe their lack of emotion meant they really didn’t care.

She was almost to the opening in the portable barricades, the legionaries giving their officer frantic looks for guidance, the officer waving at them to move back. Jules walked through as if unaware of their actions or their presence, her back itching in anticipation of a sudden attack that didn’t come as she left the checkpoint behind her.

Jules kept walking, common people clearing her way as quickly as possible, legionaries waiting with obvious fear as she went by them, occasional other Mages coming into sight but continuing on their way without any attempt to interact with her. She’d begun recognizing some of the streets, a welcome sign that she’d reached the eastern parts of Landfall. But she was still a distance from the eastern gates of the city, and the afternoon was well along. Her legs and feet ached from the steady trudging on the cobblestone streets, but stopping to rest seemed too dangerous to try.

Could she reach the gates before they closed late tonight? The Mage she’d knocked out and stolen these robes from had probably awakened by now, perhaps had already gotten free of her bindings. That Mage would tell other Mages, and the hunt would be on. If she was still in Landfall when the gates closed, she’d have to shed these robes and take her chances with some other form of disguise.

Her plans dissolved into nothingness as Jules spotted four Mages striding down the street. All four had the cowls of their robes lowered so that their heads and faces were exposed

And they were bending their paths to meet hers.

Jules turned to face the building she was passing, as if about to enter the door there. A glance in the other direction revealed another Mage, cowl also down, walking toward Jules.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Jules pulled open the door and walked through the room beyond. It was a bank. Commons who’d been withdrawing or depositing cash, tellers who’d been working with them, all froze into immobility as Jules walked past.

There had to be a back door. Every place had a back door. Jules slammed open door after door, heading in what she hoped was the right direction, finally reaching a door reinforced with metal strips that had a large bar holding it closed on the inside. Pulling the bar loose, Jules dropped it, yanking the door open and finding herself in an alley running behind the block of buildings the bank belonged to.

Pushing the door closed, she pulled off the Mage robes as fast as she could, balled them up and shoved them into a nearby trash receptacle. She headed down the alley at a run, slowing when she reached a cross alley leading back to the street she’d been on. Pausing to catch her breath, Jules darted a glance back at the door she’d left the bank through, seeing that it hadn’t opened yet. Straightening her torn cloak and raising the hood, she walked at a steady pace back toward the street she’d left.

Coming out onto the street, Jules noticed two things. Commons gathering to look inside the bank from a safe distance outside the door, and a column of legionaries that looked to be at least forty strong coming down the street at a fast pace, pedestrians, horses, and wagons scattering out of their way. Had someone figured out that sudden outbursts on the part of Mages were related to Jules being somewhere nearby?

Jules walked across the street and into the alley on the opposite side, moving as fast as she dared. Just before entering the alley, she spotted more Mages converging on the street from the opposite direction that the legionaries were coming, as well as coming out of the alley that she’d just left behind.

Inside the next alley, Jules broke into a run, bolting for the next cross alley and taking it so fast that she bounced off the wall on the turn. This alley ended in piles of trash against a wall about a lance high. Without pausing, Jules ran up the trash piles, launching herself over the wall. Despite trying to roll when she landed, she hit hard. Getting to her feet despite the protests of the places on her body where she was accumulating bruises, Jules ran to the end of the next alley and out onto the street.

She knew she looked frantic, but fortunately everybody else on the street did as well. People were dashing off in all directions, mothers picking up their children to run faster, shouts of warning and alarm rising on all sides. Should she run with them? Or would the Imperials already be setting up blockades on connecting streets to sweep in everyone fleeing this area?

Spotting a sewer drain, Jules made up her mind. Kneeling, she pulled the metal grating out as people rushed past her. Turning to slide feet first through the drain, a tight fit but one she could manage, Jules pulled the grating back into place behind her, hanging in space for a moment as she used one hand to shove the grating back into the right spot. Looking down, she saw her feet were about half a lance from the bottom of the drain tunnel. Letting go of the grating, she landed in the muck and moisture, letting her knees bend to absorb the impact, tottering for a moment but staying on her feet.

Grateful that she hadn’t fallen full length into the stuff on the bottom of the drain, Jules took a look around in the light filtering in through the grating. The sewer walls were covered with unpleasant looking slime and molds. The angle of the sunlight falling on the brick gave her a rough idea of which direction to go, and she began trudging through the drain, grateful that her boots were able to keep out water and whatever else was in the city sewers. The noise of the tumult above gradually grew less.

At least if the Mages came after her down here she’d be able to hear them coming.

The farther she got from the drain, the murkier the light got, and the worse the smell. Jules had started to feel herself getting light-headed when she spotted the light growing again as she neared another drain. Stopping to breathe deeply in the relatively fresher air near the drain, she went onward, her boots squelching through the muck.

Reaching a spot where another tunnel joined this one, Jules paused to orient herself, then turned into the new route.

She found it hard to judge how far she’d come without any above-ground landmarks to guide her. The noise filtering in through the drains as she passed them had subsided to normal city levels, but between the foul air, her worries, and her growing fatigue, Jules found no comfort in that.

Finally the tunnel she was in dead-ended in a wall of brick. Jules stood for a moment, trying to clear her head, wondering why she hadn’t seen the wall until she was almost touching it. Looking up, she spotted a drain opening, but the light coming in through it was dim.

Outside, the sun was setting. If she didn’t leave these sewers now, she’d be stumbling around them in total darkness.

Jules felt the wall beneath the drain, finding handholds left in the bricks to form a permanent ladder. Dizzy from the foul air, she had to pause twice in her climb even though it was only about a lance and a half up to the drain. Hating the feel of the slime on the bricks under her fingers, Jules finally made it up to the grating. She hung there for a long moment, gasping for cleaner air and listening for any clues as to where this drain was in the city. From the rapidly dimming light outside, the sun had almost set.

The grate wouldn’t budge the first time Jules tried to move it. Bracing herself, she shoved hard, and the grating finally jolted open. Pulling herself out of the drain, her breaths still coming fast as she gratefully pulled in air without poison in it, Jules lay still as she took in her surroundings.

She was on a street ending at a strip of parkland, beyond which she could hear a low rushing sound. Jules saw only a few figures far down the street, none coming this way. Getting to her feet, she realized that the sound came from the waters of what must be the mighty Ospren River where it rolled past the town.

Heading into the parkland, Jules reached a platform where boats could tie up. Sitting down, she lowered her feet into the water so the river could wash the sewer muck off of her boots. Once satisfied that was done, Jules lay on her stomach to reach down and wash the residual slime off of her hands.

At least now she wouldn’t smell like someone who’d been walking through the city sewers. But why was a city street almost deserted so soon after sunset? This was Landfall. The evening should just be getting started.

Walking those almost empty streets would make her stand out. But she couldn’t stay here. Imperial police loved to snag people trying to sleep in parks or other public places, so they’d be sure to come by at some point. She had to find a better place to hide.

A short distance up the street light glowed beneath a door. Jules checked the sign, advertising an eatery. Wobbly on her feet from tiredness and lack of food and water, Jules still hesitated before pushing open the door, worried about being trapped again.

Inside was one of the hole in the wall type eateries the city boasted, dimly lit by a few candles. A counter ran lengthwise down the middle, on one side of it chairs for customers whose backs would be to the wall, and on the other side the small oven, grill, and supplies for the elderly cook and owner who was sitting glumly in the otherwise empty place. She perked up when Jules entered, waving her to one of the seats.

Jules sat down gratefully as the owner started throwing together a meal. These sorts of places didn’t have menus, only serving one kind of meal each day based on whatever the owner had on hand.

“Wine or beer?” the owner asked.

“Watered wine,” Jules said.

“Got it.”

“Not very busy tonight,” Jules said, hoping for information on why the streets were so empty.

“People are scared,” the owner said as she stir-fried meat and vegetables along with some kind of noodle. “Checkpoints and blockades all over, the legion is out and all over the city, police are everywhere, and the Mages have been starting fights. Heralds came down the streets warning everyone to stay home unless they had urgent business, and for once people listened.”

“I’m glad you didn’t stay home,” Jules said before taking a big drink of the watered wine.

“I did,” she answered with a wink, pointing up. “I live on the second floor. Why are you out?”

“There’s somewhere I need to go,” Jules said.

“Ah.” The elderly woman turned from the grill for a moment to look at her. “And that’s not to Marandur, eh?”

Jules’ hand went to her dagger. “Excuse me?”

The owner piled food on a plate, setting it in front of Jules. “Marandur. Don’t want to go there, do you? I don’t blame you.”

“I don’t know who you think I am—”

“Someone wearing a hood at this hour, who’s still letting enough face show to tell she’s a match for all them posters.” The owner sighed, leaning back against a shelf, her eyes on Jules. “As for me, I’m someone whose family got ruined by a princess some years ago. I couldn’t leave the Empire, not back then, but I stopped loving it after that. It looks like you’ve had a hard day of it.”

“Yes,” Jules said, cautiously digging into her food, almost dizzy again from the scent of it after not eating since early this morning.

“You shouldn’t stay here. Late shift police usually stop by about midnight for their break.” The old woman eyed Jules. “So it’s true about the prophecy? The Emperor wouldn’t be trying so hard to get you unless it was.”

Jules swallowed and took another drink before answering. “It’s true.”

“Why’d you come back here?”

“No choice. I was chained in an Imperial ship.”

“And you got away?”

“While Mages were destroying the ship,” Jules said.

“Ah.” The woman watched while Jules wolfed down her food. “Don’t try the river. I heard they’ve got boats out, with torches on ‘em. And guards along the bank as you near the harbor. Not even a mouse could get through that way.”

“Thanks,” Jules mumbled around another mouthful.

“Here.” The woman offered a travel flask. “It’s full.”

Pulling out her coins, Jules offered the woman a silver galley, but she shook her head. “You keep that. Might need it later.”

“Thank you,” Jules said, reluctantly getting up from her chair and feeling her entire body protest. “You could come out west. There are good places there.”

“I’m too old, and the rest of the family is passed on,” the elderly woman said. “No sense in me moving now. Good luck, girl.”

“Thank you,” Jules said again, not knowing what else she could say. She slipped out of the doorway, opening the door just enough to get through, finding the street still almost empty as far as could be seen.

She stuck to alleys as much as possible, trying to head east with a vague idea of finding one of the eastern gates and spotting a way to get through. The fact that the east gates, as difficult as they’d be, were her best option was almost too depressing to consider.

Twice, Jules stopped, breathing as quietly as possible and hiding in the shadows of the night, as Imperial patrols went by. Luckily for her, the Imperial police had been worked hard for the last day and a half, and were as tired as she was.

After the second near-encounter, Jules had to go out on a street, hastening down it in search of the next side street or alley to duck into. She spotted three people standing on the street corner up ahead, two women and a man. They weren’t police, so she kept going. As she drew close, Jules could tell by their clothing and the way they were loitering that the three were street walkers in search of customers.

Someone like that would know as much as anyone about what the Imperial police were doing in this part of the city. It’d be worth the risk to see what she could find out.

Jules walked up to them, keeping the hood of her cloak up and her face mostly hidden. “Good evening. How’s work going?”

“Awful,” one of the women said. Middle-aged, her make-up, hair, and clothing tried to make her look more sophisticated than the other woman, who was at least a decade younger. “The legionaries are all on duty, the police are everywhere, and the citizens are afraid to leave their homes.”

“Police?” Jules said. “Where-?”

“Everywhere,” the man said, flashing a winning smile. “Are you interested in a good time?”

“No,” Jules said. “I’m broke.”

The interest of the three in her vanished as quickly as the light from a blown out candle. The first woman sighed, staring down the nearly-empty street. “This night’s a bust. Even if someone shows up, they’ll go for the youngest of us.”

“You’d think they’d value experience,” the man said. “But, no, it’s always the younger ones.”

“That’s not my fault,” the second woman said.

“No,” the first woman agreed. “And you should take advantage of it while you can. Me, I need to get out this line of work.”

“What else have you got?” the man asked.

“Sewing. I’m good at it. Embroidery.” The woman grimaced. “But the clothing shops and tailors aren’t hiring. I can’t even get a license for a street cart because they’re sold out. I’ve been thinking of maybe heading up to Centin and trying my luck there.”

The man shook his head. “Centin’s worse than here. Too many people and not enough jobs. I’ve got a cousin there who’s a teacher. She finally found a job as a part-time tutor and is grateful for it.”

“What are people supposed to do?” the older woman complained. “Marandur, Alfarin, every city is straining at the seams.”

Jules had been listening, hoping to hear anything useful about the police presence. “There’s always the west.”

“The west? You mean outside the Empire?”

“Yes,” Jules said. “There’s a lot of land out there. New towns. Cities being founded, with every job open for anyone who comes.”

The younger woman spoke up again. “I have a friend who’s doing that. Going west. She was supposed to be on a ship leaving today with a lot of people being smuggled out of the Empire, but with the waterfront locked down they had to postpone until things get quiet again.”

“What’s out west?” the man asked. “Those small islands, and some little places along the coast?”

“There’s a lot more than that,” Jules said. “The western coast of the sea is full of places where cities could be. And there’s a strait that leads to another sea, and beyond that the ocean, with amazing lands bordering them.”

“Where’d you hear that?” the older woman asked, skeptical.

“I saw a chart.”

“You saw a chart.” She laughed.

“It was made by Jules of Landfall,” Jules said, knowing she should drop it, but wanting to tell others what she’d discovered. “Signed by her. Her ship found those places.”

“Jules of Landfall?” The man gave her his full attention for the first time since hearing that Jules didn’t have any money. “The Jules of the prophecy?”

“Yes,” Jules said, thinking that she really ought to be leaving, but since opening her big mouth not sure how to do it without attracting too much interest from these three.

“She’s in Landfall,” the younger woman said. “That’s why everything’s so crazy. The legions out and police everywhere and the Mages…” She looked around to ensure none were in sight. “Attacking people and looking all over. Did you see her?” she asked Jules eagerly.

“I’ve seen her,” Jules said.

“There’s really nice places in the west?” the older woman asked. “Places with jobs?”

“Yes. Any kind of job,” Jules said.

“Do you know where she is?” the younger said. “The prophecy girl?”

“No,” Jules said. “I have no idea.”