The Quarrygate Gambit, page 10
Helene relaxed in her chair. “That’s a great idea.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “In a few days, if all goes well, we’ll have some real answers, and we can put this all behind us.”
He nodded and went to the icebox, getting the ciders. “That sounds really good. If everything works out, you and Julien should come have dinner at my mother’s.”
“That would be wonderful,” she said.
He sat down and took hold of her hand. This was the first time she had ever left her hand bare in front of him, let him hold it. “I do love you, Helene, and I trust that you know what’s the best thing for you and yours. If you need anything, anything in my power . . .”
“I know, Jarret,” she said, holding up her bottle to his. “Here’s hoping I won’t.”
She knew, from here on out, if she did need something in his power, that meant things had already gone horribly wrong. And she refused to let that happen.
Chapter 9
RAYCH WAS IN THE BAKERY at dawn. Great prophets, she hadn’t been in here for a few days, and there were already paper jobs pasted completely over front door, as if the store had been abandoned for months. But she didn’t have time to worry about that. In a few days, everything would be back to normal. In a few days, everything would go fine. Verci would be home, and the bakery and the Gadgeterium would be open for business again, and everything would be fine.
She wouldn’t open the bakery today, but there was plenty to do. She needed to take an inventory of what she had in her stores, and then figure out what she could make with what she had on hand, add in what supplies she could get today—or tomorrow morning at the latest—and then write that up and get it to Mila so she could forge the paperwork she needed, and then also start the baking process and…
She sat down on the floor of the bakery, too overwhelmed to even move. How in the blazes was she going to get all this done in the next two days? The other ladies were handling a lot—Jhoqull on the carriage and Verci’s gadgets, Helene on getting Ia to come along, Mila and Kai on forging papers and uniforms, and she . . . she just had to bake.
But it was too much.
“Come on, let’s see what we can find for today—oh!”
Raych looked up to see her sister, carrying Corsi on one hip. “Lian, what are you . . .”
“Are we opening today?” Lian asked. “This little man was having trouble sleeping, so since I was up, I thought we’d come down here to—”
Raych jumped to her feet and took her son out of her sister’s arms. “Oh my, I’ve missed you, baby,” she said, kissing his sweet face. “Have you been good for your aunt? Have you been waking her up?”
He responded by grabbing her face and squeezing her cheeks affectionately.
“He’s been lovely,” Lian said. “A bit fussy tonight, probably missing his mother.”
“And she missed him,” Raych said. She sighed. “But there’s going to be a few more days before . . .” She didn’t know how to finish that sentence.
“Hey, hey,” Lian said, touching her face. “If you need a few more days, I’m here, whatever it is.”
“Whatever it is,” Raych repeated. “Prophets, if you only knew.”
“You can tell me,” Lian said. “Do you need anything from me? Honestly, whatever it is. I know your husband is in some real trouble, and I know that I’ve not been the most welcoming of sisters to him—”
“Not at all,” Raych said.
“But he is your husband, so he’s my brother,” Lian said. “And so is his brother, even if he is a lunatic. He’s still our lunatic.”
“This is new from you.”
Lian chuckled. “I was in a market a week ago, and someone was giving me trouble about the price, and this woman came over and said, ‘Don’t you swindle her, she’s kin to the Rynax boys.’ And the shopkeep gasped, and dropped a whole crown off his price. ‘Let Asti know I did that for you.’”
Raych chuckled. “That happens a lot.”
“And I said, ‘I don’t want a favor because you’re afraid of Asti Rynax.’ Very haughty, I’m sure I sounded. And the fellow paled, saying, ‘Afraid? No, ma’am, just grateful. He saved my daughter, saved my shop in that trouble.’”
“Folks around here know,” Raych said.
“And I’m learning,” Lian said. “So what do you need?”
Raych handed her son back to Lian. “I’m going to tell you, but you swear, swear on our mother’s blood, that you will not tell another soul. You will take this to your very test, do you hear?”
“Yes,” Lian said, without a hint of equivocation.
“So, Verci and Asti and some other friends were arrested.”
“Right, I knew that, but why?”
“We don’t know why, but we think they are being held in Quarrygate, maybe under false names.”
“How is that possible?”
“It’s just an idea, and it’s based on a lot of rumors and whispers. But I believe it, it fits.”
“All right.”
“So we—Helene and Jhoqull and I—we went to Missus Holt for help.”
“Who is that?”
“Basically, anything gray in this part of town, anything that the law isn’t a part of, Missus Holt has her finger in it. And she’s known the boys from way back.”
“Hmm,” Lian said. “So the kind of help that won’t come cheap.”
Raych started to laugh. “No, not cheap at all. She’s made a ridiculous demand, and I . . . I said yes.”
Lian sighed and nodded her head. “So what did you say yes to?”
“Stealing five paintings from the Druth History Museum?” Raych said, racing the words out as fast as she could.
Lian’s eyes went wide, and she bit her lip hard. Raych watched her as Lian stepped back, like she was trying to find any words to say, or just get her breath.
Finally, she said, “And how, exactly, are you expected to do that?”
“By infiltrating an event as caterers, so I have to bake a lot of pastries by tomorrow to deliver in the rolling racks which we’ll use to get the paintings out?”
“Oh?” Lian asked. “So, to be clear, this is a pastry baking job?”
“It definitely is, and I have to get working . . .”
Lian had already put Corsi in his playpen and was grabbing her apron. “We need to get working. There’s no way you’ll be able to do this on your own.”
“Lian, are you sure . . .”
“This is a very deep problem that you are in, dear sister,” Lian said. “And you reminded me just now that, sooner or later, I will face my test before God. I will not stand before my maker and say that I abandoned my sister when she was at her lowest.” She kissed Raych on the cheek, which was already wet with tears. “Come on, let’s get to work.”
* * *
Raych had been quite pleased with how the work had been going. It felt good to be back in the kitchen, Lian by her side, Corsi happily playing or napping without any care in the world. Almost back to normal. She nearly expected Verci to just stroll in the back door as if nothing had been amiss, that infuriating grin on his face.
She had not expected Mila to pop out of the pantry as if she had been hiding there all day.
“We have a problem,” Mila said as she came out.
“Sweet prophets!” Lian shouted, almost dropping the pastry tray.
“Oh!” Mila said, seeing Lian. “I mean, there’s not a problem, it’s just—”
“She knows,” Raych told her. “Where the blazes did you come from?”
“This bakery was the Old Lady’s, remember? There’s all kinds of passages in and out of her old safehouse down there.”
“I thought Verci locked those down.”
“He did,” Mila said. “But I helped him do it, so I know how to unlock them.”
“Yes, but why—”
“Because we have a problem. Right now there’s a couple constables—and maybe a marshal, I’m not sure—sitting in a wagon outside the Gadgeterium.”
“What does that mean?” Lian asked.
“I’m not entirely sure, but I wouldn’t risk going in there, at least not through the front door.”
“So I can’t go home?” Raych asked.
“I wouldn’t,” Mila said. “There’s also two fellows keeping an eye on this door. Not in uniform, but they’ve got that stick feeling to them, you know?”
“I trust you on this,” Raych said. “So we can’t leave?”
“Not through the door or the alley, but I’ve got a way out for you down there.” She sighed heavily. “I’m afraid that’s not all.”
“Where else?”
“Helene’s shop, and Jhoqull’s forge.”
“Does this mean someone is onto us?” Helene asked.
“We’re going to prison!” Lian cried.
“We’ve not done anything but make pastries,” Raych said. “So calm down. Is that all?”
“Near as I can tell, no one is watching me or Kaiana, so whoever is keeping tabs, it’s about the three of you, not our plan.”
Raych pulled another tray of perfect pastries out of the oven. “So what do we do?”
“Well, we were going to meet at the Gadgeterium to break down the plan, make sure everyone knows their job, make sure we have everything we need. We still need to do that. Plus probably just lay low for the night.”
“Right, but where?”
“My house?” Lian offered.
“What about Hal?”
“Hal will have to accept it.”
“That can work if we can get word out,” Raych said. “How do we do that?”
“Kai had an idea of how to get Jhoqull out of her place without being noticed or followed, so I’m going to trust her on that. I’ve still got to get to Helene somehow, and then I’ll get all our gear out of the Gadgeterium.”
“I set all the traps and alarms when I left.”
“Again, I know where they are,” Mila said. “If you’re ready to go, I can lead you through the tunnels and get you out near Elk.”
“Just about done,” Raych said. “Help put those on the cooling racks, and we can start covering the rest up for tomorrow.”
Lian looked very concerned. “How are we going to load this all up for the mission—”
“Job,” Raych and Mila said in unison.
“Job, yes, if we can’t get out the door, bring the wagon in the alley and all?”
“Working on that,” Mila said. “But we need to hurry so I can get to the others with the change in plans. Once we’re done and out, can you get Ia?”
Raych nodded. “You sure we need her?”
“I’m not happy about it, but she is damn perfect for this.”
“Fine. Seven bells at Lian’s house. 61 Colt Road.”
“And me?” Lian asked.
“Tell Hal you’re having several guests for dinner.”
* * *
Mila had never been to Lian’s house before, which was a perfectly respectable narrowhouse on Colt, looking about the same as every other house on this block, each one crammed in together with barely a breath of an alleyway between it and its neighbor.
A good portion of her afternoon involved getting a warning to Helene, and then getting together the gear and supplies they would need, and stashing them in the old safehouse they had established with Josie, back when they had all been together. Asti had declared that place as burned, unsafe, but since they were working for Josie again on this one, so Mila figured there was no risk. It was the most useful place they could use right now, and practicality had to win the day. There were still supplies for disguises, some of Verci’s gadgets—including one that was perfect for tonight—and one of the carriages that he and Kennith had been working on.
When she had met up with Kaiana and Jhoqull—Kai had gotten her past her watchdogs with help from a couple of Jho’s cousins and a pretty simple outfit swap trick—and told them of the changes in plans. Jhoqull was very excited about the carriage in the safehouse.
“That is perfect, I must go there immediately.”
Mila didn’t question it, and told them how to get in.
It was nearly half past seven bells when she got to Lian’s house, having collected the last things from the Gadgeterium in the cover of night. She had taken an indirect route to make sure she hadn’t picked up a tail, changed clothes to her school uniform behind an alley backhouse, and then again walked a full lap around Colt Road to make sure no one was watching or following. If they were, they were good enough for her not to notice, so she went up the stoop and knocked.
The door flew open, a portly man with a ruddy face there, holding Corsi on his hip.
“Another! Please tell me you’re the last.”
“I don’t know who’s here already, sir, so I can’t answer that.”
“At least you look respectable,” he said, craning his neck outside to look around. “Saints only know what the neighbors must be thinking right now.”
“Hopefully nothing, sir,” she said. “May I?”
“Yes, yes, let’s not stand here making a scene,” he said. “Come in, miss—?”
“Kendish. Mila Kendish.” She realized she had slipped into her University accent, which was absurd, but had become habit whenever she was in uniform.
He led her into the house, where the rest of the crew were already sitting around a table, which was loaded with food and wine bottles, as well as notes and sketches.
“Sorry I’m late,” Mila said. “I was securing the last of what we need.”
Helene got up from the table, handing Mila a glass of wine. “And we appreciate that. Especially me.”
“You?” Mila asked.
“I think the extra scrutiny is on me,” Helene said. Lowering to a whisper. “From Covrane.”
“Are . . . are you all right?”
“It’ll be fine,” Helene said, her face saying otherwise. “Sit.”
“All right, talk me through it,” Kaiana was saying, looking over the notes on the table as she slathered soft cheese on her bread.
“Who is this one?” Ia asked, pointing at Kaiana. She was looming in the corner of the room, like a great blond statue.
“I’m the common sense,” Kaiana said.
“She’s probably done as many stupid things in the streets of Aventil as all of us have here,” Mila said. “I’ve worked with her, and she’s sharp as knives.”
Kaiana smiled. “And I’m used to folks charging in with no plan, so this is a delight.”
“Her job is to look over everything and tell us what’s stupid,” Raych said.
“And she knows what’s stupid?” Lian asked. She still looked terrified.
Lian’s husband walked through to the kitchen, muttering the whole way. “Folks from so many places here, like a customs check.”
“Thank you, Hal,” Lian said to her husband, in a tone that seemed to quiet him.
Kaiana scowled at him, but then looked to Lian. “I’ve survived quite a bit of stupid, so I have a good eye for it.”
“Fair enough,” Ia said. “So give us the plan, sjat, so the island girl can tell us how dumb it is.”
“Right,” Raych said. “So we have a guard uniform for Ia, caterer uniforms for me, Lian, and Kaiana, and a fancy dress for Mila and Helene.”
“And swap clothes hidden under those outfits,” Mila said. “And Jhoqull—”
“I have three different outfits, it seems,” she said. “I will spend as much time changing clothes as anything.”
“Mila comes in front with the forged invite,” Raych said. “And she’s got the smokers and flashers strapped under her dress.”
“So you’re carrying those in?” Ia asked.
“The advantage of us being in fancy dress,” Mila said. “Hel and I are going to have a couple Rynax gadgets strapped to our legs.”
“And none of the guards will search you there, sjat.”
Raych continued, “Ia is there first, then the three of us arrive next in the bakery wagon with our pastry trays, which we bring in the service entrance. That’s where the other caterers will enter.”
“So how do we not get called out by the real caterers?” Kaiana asked. “We’re wearing their uniforms, right? They should know we aren’t working for them.”
“There’s three different companies hired to provide the food and serve,” Mila said. “But I learned that all of them will be dressed the same, because the organizers want it to look seamless. So on our end, that means the people working it expect not to know everyone else.”
“Really?” Kaiana asked. “Surely someone is overseeing it . . .”
“I know this one,” Lian said. “I did a few jobs like that back before I married Hal—for that friend of father’s, the one with the strange eye?”
“Mister Kenickila,” Raych said.
“Right. In practice, there is a floor boss directing things, but usually they don’t know who is who either, and it’s a lot of just working with strangers and doing your best to get each other’s rhythm.”
“Head down, keep busy, if someone asks for something, say ‘Right away’ and get out of their eyesight,” Raych offered.
Kaiana nodded her acceptance.
“From there, we load the trays onto the racks, and roll it through like we’re going to the main buffet. In the rest of the gallery, Mila and Helene plant smokers and boom powder drops.”
“Right, when those go off, we all move,” Kaiana said.
“Ia helps drive folks away from the sound and smoke, into the gallery with the paintings, here.” Raych points on the map. “Mila will be yelling about fires, and help drive folks in there.”
“Everyone?” Kaiana asked.
Mila spoke up. “Just enough people for witnesses, enough for chaos. Then Jhoqull makes her move from the roof.”
“I have climbed up there with this contraption,” she said, holding up a device. “And I attach another to bars on the sunwindow, which will break the window in a dramatic shattering of glass.”
“Helene’s cue,” Raych said.
“It seems overly dramatic,” Helene said.
“It needs to be. It needs to scare people and keep their attention as the crashdown gates come down.”
