The Crimson Campaign(The Powder Mage Trilogy)(72)

"Thank you," Adamat said, relief washing over him. Norport would be dangerous, but going alone into Kez territory might be suicide.

"One condition."

"What's that?"

"Sleep on it."

Adamat hesitated for a moment. He should prepare tonight. Get his supplies together, find a smuggler …  then again, finding a smuggler would be far easier in the morning. Most of Adamat's contacts were asleep by this hour. "Fine," he said. "I'll sleep on it."

SouSmith accompanied Adamat home before taking his own leave. Adamat watched SouSmith's hackney cab clatter down the street, then headed inside.

The house was quiet but for the soft sound of one of the children crying. Adamat removed his boots and hat, and hung his jacket by the door. He passed the children's rooms, pausing briefly beside Astrit's. She was the one crying. Fanish sung softly to her, holding her tight and rocking her back and forth. Neither of them saw Adamat.

He crept into his own room. The lamp was burning low, like it always was when Adamat was still out late.

Faye sat up in bed. Her eyes were red, her long, bedraggled curls framing her haggard face. The faint light of hope in her eyes died when she saw him, and Adamat felt his shoulders slump in defeat. He sat down on the bed beside her and buried his face in his hands.

"You tried," Faye said. She was better, he thought. Despite her appearance, she'd been growing stronger over the last week, spending time with the children. She still stayed away from the windows and avoided going outside, though Adamat couldn't determine the reason. Perhaps she feared being seen by one of her former captors?

"I'm going to Norport," Adamat said when he'd regained his composure.

Faye's hand, gently stroking his arm, froze. "Why?"

"To get Josep back. I can find him there, and if I can't find him, I can pick up his trail."

"No."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean no." Faye's tone was firm. "I'll not have you risking your life over this. Not anymore. I've lost Josep, but I have eight more children, and I can't provide for them and protect them without you."

"You won't -"

"I said no."

Adamat could tell by her tone there'd be no argument. No hope at all. She'd do everything in her power to keep him from going. "But -"

"No."

He tried to find the courage to tell her off. To tell her that he had a duty to his son, that he could still get his boy back.

The courage never came.



In the morning, Adamat went to return the money he'd borrowed from Ricard.

A secretary met him in the lobby of Ricard's new headquarters. She opened her mouth with a word of greeting, but something on his face must have stilled her tongue, and she led him back to the room off the side of the building that was Ricard's office.

The room was much larger than his old office, but no cleaner.

The whole room reeked. There were oysters on one shelf, probably from the same pub that Adamat had been to last night, and from the smell of them they were three days old. The scent was made worse by some kind of incense burning on Ricard's desk.

He ignored Ricard's greeting and threw himself into the chair across from him.

Ricard frowned and leaned back in his seat, and the two of them regarded each other for a few moments. Ricard's eyes went to the case on Adamat's lap.

"They never showed," Adamat said, tossing the case on the ground. "They took my fifty-thousand-krana deposit and disappeared. Now my boy is gone forever, along with any hope I have of getting him back. I should never have trusted them." Adamat could hear the disgust in his own voice.

Ricard got that look on his face when he was about to say "I told you so," but instead quietly said, "We all make mistakes."

Adamat wanted to break things. He wanted to go on a violent rampage, destroying Ricard's expensive furniture and chandeliers and crystal decanters, then throw himself on the ground in the middle of the mess and sob.
 
 

 

"I don't know what to do now," he said.

Ricard said, "I have something I could have you look into."

Adamat fixed Ricard with a long look. How could Ricard think he'd want to take a case right now?

"It would keep your mind off things," Ricard went on. "There are accusations of profiteering within the ranks of the Adran army. I need to follow up on those accusations and find some evidence."

"That's a job for the provosts," Adamat said.

"Not when the corruption runs all the way up to the General Staff."

"No," Adamat said. "I'm done with military dealings. Find someone braver and stupider."

Ricard stifled a smile. "You're the bravest and stupidest man I know."

"I can attest to that," a voice said from the back of the room.

Privileged Borbador stood in the doorway. He wore a slimming day jacket, his face pink from a morning shave, a cane in one hand. His Privileged's gloves were nowhere to be seen.

"Who the pit are you?" Ricard asked.

"Privileged Borbador, at your service." Bo bowed his head slightly. "I understand you have a letter for me."

"Oh," Ricard said in surprise. A confused look crossed his face. "How could you possibly know that I have a letter for you?"

Bo smiled.

"Right. From Taniel Two-Shot," Ricard said. He searched through his papers until he discovered the letter, then brought it to Bo.

Bo leaned up against the doorway as he read the note. He turned it around, looking at some kind of report that had been written on the back. His eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Adamat. "Did you tell him that Tamas is still alive?"

"I did," Adamat said.

"We have no evidence of that." Ricard spread his hands.

"He is," Bo said. "And when he gets back, he's going to gut his General Staff."

"If the army runs out of powder, Adro will have been conquered long before Tamas returns."

Bo chewed on his lip. "Any word from Taniel Two-Shot? Other than this letter, I mean."

"He is being court-martialed as we speak. I sent my undersecretary down to intervene on my behalf, but I won't know the results for days."

"Court-martialed? For what?" Bo's tone was flat. Adamat thought it his imagination, but the temperature of the room seemed to have dropped.

"Mostly trumped-up charges," Ricard said. "Disobeying orders, attacking one of the General Staff. But Taniel suspects that some of the General Staff are war-profiteering, and may even be in league with the Kez, which would explain why they're court-martialing their only powder mage."

Bo waved the letter. "Yes, I read that. Pit. Pit, pit, pit. I suppose I could go kill them all, if they haven't hanged him by the time I get there."

"That wouldn't be very good for the war effort," Adamat pointed out. "And we don't know which of the generals are profiteering."

"You think I give a damn about who it is?" Bo snapped. Bo raised his hand, and even though he wasn't wearing his Privileged's gloves, Adamat felt himself shrink into his chair. Bo took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few minutes before speaking again. "I'll take care of this," he said. To Ricard, "I may need your help."

"My organization is at your disposal."

"Good."

Bo left as quickly as he'd arrived, and Adamat found himself alone with Ricard once again.

"Well, that's interesting. You've made yourself some rather fascinating friends." Ricard plucked a half-smoked cigar from an ashtray and examined it, as if deciding whether to finish it off. He tossed it into the rubbish bin at his feet.

"I'd rather not have had to," Adamat murmured.

"You need a break. Not more work. I see that now. You should come on a trip with me," Ricard said.

"What? Where?"

"The grand opening of the Pan-Deliv Canal!" Ricard stood up and threw back the curtains on his window to reveal the ugliness of the factory dock-fronts with the backdrop of a rainstorm raging across the Adsea. He cocked an eyebrow at the weather and closed the curtains.

"I thought it was called the King Manhouch Canal?"

"No king, no King Manhouch Canal." Ricard opened his cigar box and offered one to Adamat, which he refused.

"I will not let you cheer me up," Adamat said.

Ricard waved his hand in front of him as if envisioning a sign hanging from the wall. "I wanted to call it the Tumblar Crossing, but my Ministerial Election Committee seems to think that humility looks better to the voting public, while the council wanted something to strengthen ties with Deliv." Ricard struck a match and lit his cigar. "I give up so much for the greater good."

"You poor man," Adamat said.

"You'll come to the grand opening?"

"No." What could possibly make Ricard think that Adamat would want to travel, after all his ordeals? He closed his eyes, trying to escape the stink of those oysters. "What about Privileged Borbador?"

"I'll leave word for my people to help him. Come with me. I insist," Ricard said.

"Absolutely not. My wife is in no shape to travel. My children -"

"Your children can come. I'll hire the nannies, and you and Faye can ride in my carriage. We leave this afternoon."

"Faye will not go!"

"She's already agreed."

Adamat narrowed his eyes. "Liar."

"Cross my heart," Ricard said. "I visited her yesterday."