“Everything is next. If that incoming storm brings lightning, we need to be ready for it.” Thessa hurried over to the phoenix channel, running her hands along the copper cable. She checked that the copper didn’t touch the tin casing anywhere, and that the insulation was in place. She checked each coupling for the tenth time in the last hour. The truth was they really didn’t have anything to do. The phoenix channel was ready. They even had a neat little basket of spent godglass sitting on a stool on the “exit” side of the phoenix channel.
Satisfied that she’d done everything she could to prepare the test, she headed outside to the camp of Grappo enforcers. Aside from a handful of enforcers on guard duty, everyone else was huddled under tarpaulins or in the shadow of the craggy landscape, trying to stay warm without a fire. She’d offered to let them rotate through the lighthouse last night for a bit of warmth, but not a single one wanted to stand near either the lightning rod or the audibly humming box of sorcery it was attached to.
The first thing she saw when she stepped outside was Tirana. The master-at-arms seemed to be waiting for her, and before Thessa opened her mouth she said, “We need to talk. Alone.”
“Of course. Inside? Pari, give us a minute, please.”
They were soon inside the lighthouse, where Tirana stayed as close as humanly possible to the door, glancing askance at the phoenix channel. She produced something from inside her jacket and held it out – a strange coil of burnt paper wrappings. “Do you know what this is?”
“It looks like a bigger version of the wrappings soldiers use on gunpowder charges,” Thessa said, thinking back to watching the glassworks garrison take inventory in the courtyard when she was younger.
“It’s a military signal flare,” Tirana answered in a low voice. She pushed the door open just slightly, looking out into the Forge through the crack. “I found it burning underneath a rock half an hour ago. Someone must have set the damn thing early this morning.”
“Underneath a rock?” Thessa echoed.
“Out of the rain, hidden from us, but so that the light would reflect out toward the south. Toward Harbortown.”
“Ooooh,” Thessa said, drawing the word out. She reached out and touched the damp wrappings, then looked up sharply to meet Tirana’s eye. “Someone set this deliberately to signal to the Grent besieging the harbor.”
“It’s the only explanation, and I’d stake my career that it was whoever pushed Justaci off the edge two nights ago.” Tirana shoved the burnt wrappings back in her jacket angrily. “I’ve got all my enforcers on high alert, sleeping four to a tent, keeping an eye on each other without knowing that’s what they’re doing.”
“Did any report anything suspicious?”
“Not one of them.”
“Does Breenen know about all of this?”
Tirana hesitated. “I haven’t told anyone but you. After what happened at the Hyacinth earlier this week I don’t trust anyone but Master Demir and Montego. The only reason I trust you – no offense – is because Demir told me you were in charge of this operation.”
So who the piss could it be? Thessa swallowed a lump in her throat, thinking through all the enforcers. There were forty people out there and she knew the names of only half of them. Any could be a spy or a traitor. Even Breenen, though that seemed outlandish. Was it Pari? Was it Tirana herself, trying to throw Thessa off the scent? She wondered if she’d made a mistake refusing Demir’s offer to move into the shelter of the nearby army until this battle was over. Perhaps she still should.
But that storm would arrive before they could even pack up. No sense in wasting the opportunity. Besides, her logic was still sound. If there was a traitor among them, taking more time would just give that person more opportunities for betrayal.
“How does that flare work?” she asked.
“It’s just a cylinder filled with a particular blend of slow-burning gun-powder and some chemicals to add color,” Tirana answered. “You pull a cord, it causes a spark inside the flare and starts to burn.”
“Will it leave powder residue on the hands? Like when soldiers fire a musket?”
Tirana’s face brightened. “It will! That’s brilliant.”
“Let’s check everyone,” Thessa said. “Subtly, mind you. So they don’t spook.” Her fear mixed with righteous indignation. No guild-family traitor was going to ruin this moment, not if she could help it. This test would succeed or fail on her merits. “You check,” she said, “I’ll talk.”
“Agreed.”
They went back outside, where Thessa carefully glanced at Pari’s hands first. A little dirt, but no powder residue. That took a weight off Thessa’s shoulders. She was beginning to like Pari a lot. The woman had saved her life, after all. She was glad she wasn’t a spy. Thessa continued past, motioning for her to follow, and walked over to the firepit that had been cold since Demir’s messenger last night.
“Everyone!” she said, shouting to be heard above the growing wind, “listen up! As you all know, there’s going to be a battle nearby sometime in the next few days. I’m hoping we’ll all be gone well before the fighting starts. To that end, I want everyone packed and ready to leave at a moment’s notice. This incoming storm is promising. All I need is a lightning strike to hit that rod over there, and my test will be complete. We’ll wait out the rest of the storm and get out of here as soon as we’re able.”
As she spoke, Tirana moved surreptitiously around the little camp, whispering in enforcers’ ears. She carried a roll of banknotes and slipped a few to each of the enforcers in order to check their hands. Clever woman. Thessa continued, “Thank you all for coming. I know you have your orders, but thank you nonetheless. I hope this becomes an important moment we all remember.” It wasn’t much of a speech. It certainly felt lackluster for a moment that might change the world. She gave them a confident smile and glanced at Tirana, but the master-at-arms was still working her way quietly through the enforcers.
Breenen joined Thessa wearing a soft smile, and shook her hand. She took the opportunity to check his hands – nothing. He said, “I’m glad you’re keeping everyone’s safety in mind. This test, whatever it is, has kept Demir afloat since he returned. He seems to think it’ll save the Grappo. You have my gratitude for that.”
Thessa felt her cheeks flush. “Thank you. I–” They were interrupted by a sudden scuffle, and Thessa turned to find that Tirana had drawn her sword and held it to the neck of an enforcer that Thessa didn’t recognize.
“Thessa!” Tirana barked. “Now!”
They both hurried over, a growing sense of alarm passing through the gathered enforcers. It took several moments for things to calm down enough that they could talk over the wind. “What’s going on?” Breenen demanded. “Why is your sword out?”
“Because,” Tirana said, “his hands have the residue of a military flare – a signal left for our enemies to find us. Explain yourself, Kempt!”
The enforcer tried to draw away from Tirana’s sword, his eyes darting everywhere at once. “I don’t know what you mean! That’s just powder from my pistol.”
“Breenen, do you have your shackleglass?” Tirana asked.
“I don’t take it out of the hotel,” Breenen replied with a growing look of dismay. “Do you mean to say Kempt has betrayed us?”
“He killed Justaci for trying to warn me about a traitor, and now he’s signaled to the Grent,” Tirana said. “Do you have anything to say? Lie, and I’ll cut you apart myself. You’ll go under question with the shackleglass as soon as we return to the Hyacinth.”
Kempt’s jaw snapped shut, and he glared around Tirana defiantly. “Piss off!”