The Quarrygate Gambit, page 8
Helene looked Mila up and down as she came in. “Looks like they feed you well at that school.”
“And it looks like the constable rolls you pretty well.”
Helene gasped, and then grabbed Mila in an embrace, pulling her further inside.
“Hello,” Kaiana said, warily crossing into the apartment.
“This is Kaiana,” Mila said, introducing her to Helene and Jhoqull. “She works on campus, as well as working with the Thorn. She’s got a good head and can stay calm in trouble.”
“I like the sound of that,” Jhoqull said.
“Sit, sit,” Raych said, guiding everyone to the table. “Let’s get started.”
Mila chuckled. “Asti and Verci don’t usually do this with a meal.”
“Well, this is my way.”
“It’s probably a better way,” Mila said.
“Do . . . do you all mind if I say an Acserian prayer before we start?” Raych asked.
“I’m open to any help we can get,” Helene said. “I’ve been whispering to Saint Senea for days.”
Jhoqull responded only by taking Raych’s hand and squeezing it affectionately.
“It’s your table, Missus Rynax,” Kaiana said.
“Thank you,” Raych said. “And it’s just Raych.” Closing her eyes, she said. “Blessed god, look upon our souls, see that we strive toward a task of danger and transgression. We do this not from a place of greed or wrath, but from love, so please bless our acts from the place in which it comes. Fix your blessing on our hearts so we may face the test ahead. In the name of each of your prophets who have come, and the ones you will still send us.”
Then Jhoqull looked upward and said, in an almost musical voice, “Yar mzu ti thayar thavarj mluwa va, mwemye mpyi va, mill wep bloll pe zin njhu mlukh til mnyi mra, zinywul zin mri ikh jhini umru mzu nya.”
“What did that mean?” Kaiana asked when she was done.
“I was calling to many mothers past to guide us and stand with us in our task,” Jhoqull said. Looking to Helene, she said, “Any help, yes?”
“Absolutely,” Helene said.
“So,” Mila said as they started to eat, “Kaiana and I have already done some research. She went through information in the university library and the planning charts, and I worked my charms in some of the city offices. Turns out a few of the folks there really missed me. Or rather, Jendly.”
“And what did you learn?” Raych asked.
“First off,” Kaiana said, taking out a notebook. “The Noile Pentaptych, five paintings in a sequence, painted by Maricon Noile from 875 to 878. Depicting the five foundational moments in what was, at the time, the Kingdom of Oblune. Noile is considered the greatest painter of the era—at least, posthumously.”
“What?” Helene asked.
“He was largely ignored as a madman in his lifetime, impoverished into his old age. His daughter took care of him as best she could, but after he died his debts were so great, all his belongings, including stacks of his paintings, were gathered up and auctioned off in bulk.”
“That’s tragic,” Raych said.
“It wasn’t for another fifty years until the art-loving nobility in Vargox discovered his works—those that survived—and started hailing him as a genius. Then his style was imitated across all of Druthal for another century, which art historians call the Noilic Period.”
“So the paintings are a big deal,” Helene said.
“Beyond a big deal,” Kaiana said. “The five of them together are considered Noile’s masterwork—the only complete series that still exists—and held up as some of the most important artifacts of cultural heritage in the Archduchy of Oblune, perhaps even all of Druthal.”
“So people will notice them missing,” Raych said. She was regretting disallowing wine at this meeting.
“That’s the big challenge here,” Mila said. “Now, to our advantage, the museum was built using an existing building, a guesthouse that used to belong to the Royal College that was converted into the museum.”
“Why is that to our advantage?” Jhoqull asked.
Mila grinned, pulling out a chart. “Because it means the building wasn’t built to be secure. Lots of soft points.” She pointed out on the chart. “Assuming this is accurate, we’ve got both sewer points and other access tunnels at a few points. There was a whole period in the tenth and eleventh centuries when folks in Maradaine were just wild about building underground.”
“That’s the truth,” Kaiana said quietly.
“So we’ve got possible access to basement areas here, and here,” Mila said, pointing out on the map. “Unless it’s bricked over, in which . . . Almer is with the boys in the prison, right?”
“Presumably,” Raych said. “He was arrested.”
She turned to Kaiana. “Do we still have boom powder left? Vee won’t miss it.”
“I’d have to check.”
“If you have any of Almer’s stuff, bring it in,” Helene said.
“We can add it to our assets,” Raych said. She pointed to the pile of gadgets and weapons. “Plus all that.”
Mila looked at that. “All right, that’s pretty good. What other assets do we have?”
Jhoqull raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been taking care of Ken’s horses at the inn, and there’s also the carriages he’s got in the barn. All of them.”
“Do any of us know how to operate that spring-powered one?” Mila asked.
“I think I can drive it,” Jhoqull said. “And any of the others, sure.”
“And if we need another body, especially a strong one, we can bring in Ia,” Helene said.
“I thought you hate her.”
“I do. But she could be useful. And you want to know our assets.”
Mila shrugged. “If we want a distraction, there’s worse choices than a six-foot blond woman.”
Raych stood up and looked at the charts. “In looks like the building has a few entrances.”
“At least by that,” Mila said. “Main ones, a couple side once, a loading door that can handle a full carriage with an alley exit.”
“So what’s next?” Raych asked.
“Now we need to confirm what we’re looking at. Full scout, eyes on the ground.” Mila pointed to Helene. “And on the roofs.”
“You’re thinking you’ll need me on the roofs?”
“I want your eyes up there tomorrow. I want you to especially watch all the streets around the museum, how things move. What’s the foot traffic, who’s vending on the walkways. Jhoqull, you’re going to do the same thing on the ground.” Mila pulled out a map of the city. “We’re out of our territory with this one, and we want to get back here, on our side of the river, and the bridges are choke points where we can be trapped. We need exit routes, escape plans, and contingencies. I want to know our best routes in case we have fire coming after us.”
“Will we?” Raych asked.
“I don’t know. We need to know what it looks like inside. So tomorrow, you, Kaiana, and I are visiting the museum.”
“All right,” Raych said, swallowing hard. If this is what it took to get Verci home, she’d do it. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through right now.
* * *
“All of these buildings are very tall.”
Helene realized as she walked through Victory Square, that she had never really been across the river, and the north side of Maradaine was a completely different city. She had seen it from across the river, but had never been particularly interested in going there. Short of her hunting ventures into the woods past Carrol Creek, she had barely ever left the limits of the south part of Maradaine.
“What do you reckon that is, ten floors?” Helene asked Jhoqull. The Ch’omik woman was dressed in very Druth clothes now, matching Helene’s look of a work dress and heavy coat. The wind on this side of the river was bitter, and once they were there, Jhoqull stopped complaining about covering up her arms.
“I have no sense of that,” Jhoqull said, looking up briefly. They kept their way walking through Victory Square, doing their best to not looking like they were scouting the area for escape routes. “But why are we all the way up here? The museum is several blocks south of here. We would want to escape toward the river, no? This is the wrong way.”
“It is the wrong way, but like you said, these buildings are very tall, and that gives us a great view down. That one looks good.”
“For height, yes, very tall,” Jhoqull said. “But we cannot get in easily.” She pointed to the front door, where a man in a uniform that was reminiscent of military or constabulary, but not either, was standing watch. “He will not let us in there.”
“Back doors?” Helene asked.
“Possibly, but I have my suspicions about those. Come.” They made their way through the alley to the side, where there were service doors. “As I suspected, they cannot even be opened from the outside.” And the back alley was blocked by a locked gate.
“This is one of those moments where the Rynaxes shine,” Helene told Jhoqull. “Either crack that door, or the gate, or climb up to the that balcony a few floors up.”
“None of those are in my skillset.”
“I’m mostly a shooting girl,” Helene said. “But I was paying attention when they dressed me up for some of those grifts.” Across Victory Square, she noted the Henson’s Majestic store, a grand sort of place, she had heard, where swells and rich ladies could buy all sorts of clothes, jewelry, perfume, and whatever else. Not the sort of place she would ever go. But she did notice women coming out carrying wrapped packages and parcels. “Wait here, I’ve got an idea.”
Helene went around back to the employees’ entrance, and walked right past two people smoking their pipes inside. She walked through a back room work floor, dozens of folks organizing boxes, unloading crates, moving in and out to the shop floor. The place was chaos, which was just what she needed. She moved quickly, grabbing an apron off a hook, a paperboard off a desk, a dress, a box of pins and measuring line from a worktable, all while the full plan came together in her head.
She walked right up to someone who looked nominally in charge—at least in vest and cravat instead of work clothes—and launched right into a speech, full confidence.
“Listen,” she said as soon as she was in his face. “Some idiot spilled tea on my orders for one of the alterations I need to do. I lost everything, the measurements, even the woman’s name.”
“I, um . . . I’m not sure . . .”
“Look, I’ll take the shouting for it, I shouldn’t have had my paperwork in the tea room—”
“No, you certainly shouldn’t have.”
“I just need to get new measurements for this woman—it’s . . . blazes, you know . . .”
“Language, miss, even in the back rooms.”
“Right, sorry,” she said. “Her name is . . . you know, that bossy lady who lives in the tower across the street. The one with the cat?”
“Are you talking about Missus Alsterton?”
“That’s the one,” Helene said. “If this isn’t ready by tomorrow, she’s going to bring the wrath of the sinners on me.”
“That sounds like your problem,” the man said. “It’s not my department, but I will make sure your supervisor does know about your negligence, miss—” He looked at her with stern questioning.
“Kendish,” Helene said. “I will do better, sir.”
“See to it.”
He went off, and Helene went right out the back door.
“Hey, where you going with that?” one of the smokers asked her.
“Always some crisis to solve!” she called back to him. “They don’t pay me enough for this.”
Helene went back across the street, walking past Jhoqull. “Follow me.”
“Oh, this will be interesting,” Jhoqull said. “Did you steal a dress?”
“I’ll put it back.”
“Is this typical for you?”
“Just got to get in the door,” Helene said. They approached the uniformed guard at the door.
“Can I help you ladies?” he asked dubiously.
“I hope so,” Helene said. “I have had a day, my friend. Some fool spilled tea on my measurements for Missus Alsterton’s new gown, and it’s completely illegible. So my assistant and I need to go up and get new measurements of her.”
“That’s Missus Alsterton’s gown?” he asked, looking at the dress.
“This, oh, saints, no,” Helene said. “This is a fitter dress to measure from. Can you imagine, they would just let me carry her gown across the street?”
“No, I could not,” he said.
“Believe me, I would rather not,” Helene said. “When she brings her cat to the store, it makes me sneeze something fierce. I can’t imagine what it would be like in her apartments.”
He chuckled. “I understand.” He opened the gate and let them in. “Ninth floor west.”
“A thousand blessings, sir,” Jhoqull said as they entered. They went through the lobby and made their way up the stairs. “That was, in fact, interesting.”
“A name, a story, and confidence,” Helene said. “Mila is better at that, and Pilsen was an absolutely master in his day.”
“How did you know about the cat?”
“That was the detail that got me the name,” Helene said. “I just hope no one named Miss Kendish actually works at that store.”
“How is that store?”
“Busy in the back rooms,” Helene said. “Which made that grift I just pulled work in the first place.”
“Give me a moment,” Jhoqull said after a few more flights. “How tall is this cursed building?”
“I think it’s ten or eleven floors. You don’t have anything like this in whatever city you came from?”
“Paht’kira,” Jhoqull said. “Watchtowers and beacons, yes. But nothing that people live in.”
“Do you miss it?”
“I miss seeing the sunrise over the bay,” Jhoqull said. “The light, the land, it’s golden in a way you never see here. And that there’s no winter there.”
“I hear we’re in for a rough one this year. At least, that’s what Jarret says.”
“And this man you’re marrying,” Jhoqull said, pointing at the stolen dress. “What would he say of all this business?”
“Best not to think about it,” Helene said. “Let’s get to the roof.”
The roof was pretty easy to reach, and Helene found a perch spot looking southwest. She got out her lensescope and started looking.
“Would you want to shoot from here?”
“Saints, no. Even with the Rainmaker, I couldn’t hit anything near the museum. But the view is impressive, no?”
“I suppose,” Jhoqull said.
Helene got out the map Mila had given her. “Mila wanted to know how the streets flowed, the best routes to escape from the museum. And we can see all that from up here.”
“Indeed,” Jhoqull said. “And there are quite a few people and carriages clustered at the intersection by the bridge.”
“That bridge is a mess,” Helene said.
“Too much of a choke point for a good escape.”
“All the roads are a tangled mess between the museum and the water,” Helene said. “Streets at odd angles, dead ends, not a good straight run to the river.”
“Saint Orrick Street?” Jhoqull offered, pointing at the map.
“To get to the bridge, which—”
“Choke point, yes.”
Helene didn’t like it. “I don’t see a good way if we have to run.”
“I concur,” Jhoqull said. “But that is the information Mila needs, yes?”
“Right,” Helene said. She looked through her scope, and made some notes on the map. Jhoqull tapped her shoulder and reached for the scope. Helene passed it over. “You seeing something?”
“Perhaps nothing,” Jhoqull said. “But there are a few dockhouses on the river that are also livery stables.”
“You have an idea?”
“Not yet,” Jhoqull said. “If you’ve learned what you can, we should get back to the street, and check for those sewer entrances Mila wanted us to find.”
“Joy,” Helene said. “She puts us on that, while she walks through the museum.”
“It seems to be the right tasks for the right people, given who we have,” Jhoqull said with a shrug. “Come, let us be about it. And return the dress.”
“Yes, return the dress,” Helene said. No need to get some innocent stranger fired over that. The last thing Helene needed was that on her conscience. It was already heavy enough.
* * *
Mila found herself holding her breath several times in the Druth History Museum. It really was an incredible place, like nothing she had ever seen before. Even on the University of Maradaine campus, where she had fully explored the library, as well as some of the archives, there was nothing that matched the majesty of the museum.
She had nearly forgotten the purpose of coming here, she was so entranced. The front hall—a wide, sweeping, circular gallery with winding stairs up to the second floor—had portraits of all the kings of Druthal for the past twelve hundred years. There were rooms dedicated to the Imperial years before the Free Era, to various wars, the Reunification, everything. There was a wall-size portrait of all the Grand Ten together, which was at odds with what Mila had read in terms of historical accuracy.
Their whole walk through, Mila kept a map in her head. Doors, rooms, stairs, windows. Guard spots, checkpoints. Discreetly mounted mirrors giving a wide view of the room. Spiderwire catches and jangle bells. Lockdown gates between galleries.
She had wandered away from Kai and Raych to check out the water closets as possible points of entry, as well as examine a few doors marked for employees to see how easy they were to open. She figured she was the best one of the three of them to take that risk. She and Kaiana had worn University of Maradaine uniforms, which Mila felt made them both effectively invisible, though Mila more so than Kaiana could be.
Mila had dressed Raych so she looked more professional class, in one of her Jendly Marskin outfits, and told her to make her own walk through away from them. It was best not to have her seen with them. Her and Kaiana together, any guard seeing them—and there were guards in dark blue suits, looking more like lawyers than sticks—they were a pair of students, that didn’t look strange at all.
