Mistress of Bones by Maria Z. Medina - XXII. Azul

XXII
AZUL

Azul regained consciousness as she was being carried over someone’s shoulder. She could barely breathe, the constant jostling making her head swirl and her stomach roll. Escaped tendrils from her braid did their best to obscure her vision, but she still spotted the high boots of her captor, caked with mud—dry, unfortunately, and leaving no trace on the mosaic of beige floor tiles.
Pushing against her captor’s back, she managed to lift her head and saw a second kidnapper. Lo and behold! The woman wore a mask hiding the upper half of her face.
“She’s awake,” the woman said.
“I know,” the one carrying her answered between huffs.
The position she had taken was too straining and not all that useful, so Azul allowed her head to droop again and closed her eyes against the nausea. Her hands fisted onto the man’s waistcoat. She sensed a breeze and heard street noises below—they must be going through one of the high bridges connecting buildings—then it was back into a closed hallway.
Time to bring in reinforcements, she decided. Hadn’t she already planned for this very contingency? Concentrating on one of her two remaining tethers, she followed the tugging sensation all the way to the small mouse. It could sneak into any building and gnaw her free of any ropes they might use to bind her, as well as provide a good distraction for her to break away.
But the mouse was looking at the woman Enjul had contacted, so Azul hesitated to call it back. Had the small rodent kept track of the woman, instinctively following Azul’s wishes to know more about Enjul’s business with her? She was dipping bread in a bowl of soup at a bare-bones kitchen, the scents waking a hunger in the animal. Azul got the feeling that the place was familiar to the mouse already, so it must be the woman’s residence.
A sudden halt had Azul bounce hard against her captor and snap her attention back to her body. She peered around. They had stopped in an unfamiliar corridor. She heard a door open.
She was lowered to the floor and helped toward a chair. Azul dropped onto it, hands covering her stomach and her mouth as she waited for the room to stop spinning.
“What’s this business?” she managed.
The other captor, the one who hadn’t been carrying her and thus wasn’t panting and wiping sweat off her own face, flicked Azul’s earring.
Azul reeled back, too shocked to swat the woman’s hand away.
“We must ask you to stay put,” she said politely but with plenty of amusement, for, really, where would she go? “while our employer requests an audience with the Marquess de Gracia.”
“Couldn’t they simply ask?” Azul retorted.
“Oh, they’ve tried, believe me. My employer is regretful that such measures must be taken to secure your brother’s cooperation, but there was no other way.”
Azul narrowed her eyes. “And if my brother refuses?” They hadn’t taken her dagger, though they could’ve. They hadn’t harmed her, other than by the nature of jostling her over a shoulder.
“Then I guess you’ll grow to enjoy these quarters.”
With that sentiment, they exited the room. The snick of the lock was loud in the following silence, and she had no doubt at least one of them would remain behind to guard the door.
Sancia, a land where who you were, what you could achieve, was nothing compared to what you could do for others. Azul massaged her forehead. She had no qualms in using others, but it was wearing thin that what Azul could do for others far outweighed what anyone was doing for her.
Once her head cleared and her stomach settled, she leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes again.
The woman had finished her repast and was now out of her house. The mouse followed, hungry and fearful of possible predators but stubborn in its pursuit, and Azul felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t meant to impress her will quite so forcefully on the small animal. She had assumed it’d be fully its own after she had withdrawn from its mind. Something to be watchful for, and something she was grateful hadn’t happened with Isadora.
Isadora’s will was indomitable, her zest for life and adventure unparalleled. No one could control her mind.
Azul followed the mystery woman for as long as she dared, noting the streets she passed, distorted through the mouse’s sight, trying to memorize any recognizable spot.
Then, returning to her present predicament, she abandoned the chair and approached the window. She was on a second floor, facing a shadowed alleyway. Climbing down would be a tricky endeavor.
But no need for such extremes.
Taking out Nereida’s dagger, she went to the door and banged on it. “Open up!”
“Be silent, you screech,” was the response.
She kept up the banging, then stepped to the side. “Open up unless you want the whole town to hear!”
She heard the bolt sliding back. The door opened inward to reveal the man who had carried her, his expression irate. “Shut up, or I’ll make you.”
Azul slid into the opening and slammed into the man with her shoulder. He grunted in surprise and stumbled back. She used the opportunity to twist and bring the pommel of the dagger right into his groin. And when he doubled over in pain, she brought it down on the back of his head.
The man dropped to the floor. She considered dragging him into the room not to arouse suspicion, but then, if this hallway had any visitors, they wouldn’t have chosen it for keeping her prisoner.
Hiding Nereida’s dagger, she stepped over the man and hurried down the corridor until she found a set of stairs that led into the streets.
It had begun to dawn on Azul that it wasn’t such a good idea that only her brother, Nereida, Enjul, and a mouse had any sort of vested interest in her existence.
Truthfully, Azul wasn’t sure how much her brother would give up for her safety, for all that he appeared happy to have her around. He wasn’t trying very hard to grant her wish to visit the ossuary. And although she was fairly certain Nereida would give finding her a try if Azul were to disappear, how long would that last?
And the emissary? Enjul would likely thank his god for saving him the effort of having to do away with her.
That knowledge somehow smarted the most.
No, better to have one more person, someone unrelated to her small group, who might find it curious if Azul were never to be heard from again.
Once she had put some distance between herself and the house, Azul picked one of the girls peddling wares and asked her to deliver a message.
“You’ll know he’s the correct one because he won’t answer you, no matter how much you ask, but he might look alarmed once you tell him who the message is from,” she told the girl. “And tell him to bring his boss along.”

The headquarters of the blue tabards was an elegant building forming an L around a small plaza. Situated on the west side of town, not too far from the Temple, it was two stories tall and reminded her of the ambassador’s sprawling estate, only smaller and more concentrated. A handful of trees, such a rare sight in this crowded place, shadowed some tables on one side of the plaza. Blue tabards were making good use of them, while others lounged in what few other shadows they could find. Azul supposed most guards were inside with the cooler air, or performing their duties around the city.
Dusting the front of her skirts, she walked up to one of the tabards guarding the wide main entrance.
“What do you want?” he asked, not very politely.
Making sure her head was tilted just so, Isadora’s earring on full display, she answered with, “I am the Marquess de Gracia’s sister, Azul del Arroyo, and I seek an audience with Captain de Macia.”
The piece of Anchor did the trick, and she was ushered into the great entrance, where a few wooden benches had been provided for waiting visitors. She sat, tucked away against a wall, and studied the magnificent staircase leading up to the second floor, its faded rug silencing the noise of blue tabards’ boots as they hurried up and down the steps. A few other civilians milled around with worried visages, their mouths set in tight lines. Soon, she focused on the hardwood of the floor under her ankle boots. Such a strange thing for it not to be tile or marble or some other polished stone. It was beautiful, even if scratched and scuffed with use, but so odd. And Azul, so cowardly.
She didn’t want to know if the necromancer’s victim wearing a blue tabard she had spied during the exhibition was around. She didn’t want to know if she was in the building or what she looked like up close. She didn’t want to unintentionally run into her, chance a bump of their skins, and then …
Then another corpse due to her.
The thought gave Azul pause. Zenjiel and the two people at the exhibition … If there were three victims, there were likely more. How powerful was the other necromancer, to raise all these people? Did this person have any soul left?
And more important, if the necromancer were to see Isadora once returned and recognize her for what she was, would they end her life in retribution for Azul ending Zenjiel’s?
Azul swore to herself she would not allow this. She would hide Isadora from Enjul and from the other necromancer, have her smuggled out in the middle of the night so nobody would see.
But Enjul’s search might be for nothing. The other necromancer might already be dead, soul spent, and those they had brought back gone on without them. What a relief to imagine that Isadora could remain were Azul to meet her end.
A blue tabard came for Azul and guided her up the staircase to a room with a sturdy desk and Captain de Macia standing behind it. Instead of a tabard, she wore a blue waistcoat with silver embroidery and silver buttons down the front, and the same type of breeches and boots as the guards. Draped over another chair was her half cape, dark blue with more silver accents.
De Macia nodded at the guard, who retreated into the hallway. After a warm greeting, she indicated another free chair, which Azul made use of.
“So,” De Macia said, occupying her own seat behind the desk, “how is your mother?”
“Very well, thank you,” Azul replied. “How is my little sister?”
De Macia gave her a rueful smile. “Keeping my household busy. How long have you been in Cienpuentes?”
“A few days now.”
“And you must stay a few more and come to supper with us. Now, tell me, how can I help?”
Captain de Macia hadn’t advanced in the ranks for lack of a sharp mind.
“I was subject to an attempted kidnapping earlier today,” Azul said matter-of-factly, “so for the sake of my well-being, I thought I should let someone I trust know I am currently staying with one of my half brothers, the Marquess de Gracia.”
“Were you harmed?” De Macia asked, all business now.
“No, they were very polite.” At the captain’s answering snort, Azul added, “Yes, my thoughts too. They intended to use me as a lure to arrange a meeting with my brother.”
“‘Attempted kidnapping,’ you said.”
“I escaped.”
“Is the Marquess de Gracia aware of all of this?” Then, in a loud voice, “You came alone, yes?”
Azul glanced over her shoulder to catch the blue tabard peek in and nod.
“Should we send word to His Grace that you’re here?” De Macia asked.
“No need. I already sent a message with my destination.” To the detriment of Azul’s purse. Nereida had assured her they had more coin, while Sergado alluded to a stipend—but where was all this money supposed to be? Nowhere within her reach.
After a curt, dismissive nod of the captain’s head, the blue tabard returned to his previous position somewhere down the corridor, and she focused again on Azul. “Give me the details.”
Azul was glad to comply: “There were two masked captors and the servant who lured me from the gathering. Although it’s possible that the servant was simply asked to deliver a message and wasn’t aware of the implications.”
“What gathering?”
“My brother’s friends were having one. He must’ve sent word that he meant to introduce me, because nobody was surprised by my attendance.” Azul studied De Macia’s expression—serious but not shocked. “Are kidnappings in Cienpuentes common?”
“While all kinds of crimes happen in the city, yours is not the first kidnapping for the sake of simple talks in the last couple of weeks.” Seeing Azul’s disbelief, she elaborated, “Three men cornered the Count de Anví not long ago, seeking a similar result.”
Azul remembered the count, standing stiff and looking miserable at the exhibition. “He came to you for help?”
“Hah. No, of course not. He’s a Golden Dog and we’re the Blue Bastards. He would rather choke on his guts, I’d imagine, before coming to De Mavén for any sort of help.”
“Then how do you know—? Oh, he thought you, the City Guard, had a hand in it?”
“Not quite,” De Macia said, “but close enough. It’s hard to keep such things a secret. Knowledge tends to get around.”
“Should I be worried they’ll attempt to kidnap me again?” Azul didn’t want to be confined at Almanueva or gain more guards.
De Macia studied her closely. “You should be, I think.” After waiting for the words to sink in, she added, “Coming so close after your father’s murder … De Gracia is a dangerous name to be associated with nowadays. I know you aren’t used to these kinds of—”
“Murder?” Azul exclaimed. “I thought he died from an issue with his heart.”
It was now time for Captain de Macia to be surprised, then hesitant.
“Tell me,” Azul demanded.
“He was stabbed in the…”
An eloquent pause ensued, and Azul finished for her, dryness in her voice: “In the heart. Why did my brother lie?”
“He might not have wanted to frighten you. And to be frank, I shouldn’t have told you, if you weren’t already told. It wasn’t my news to share. But given the current situation, it’s better for you to be aware of the danger you face.”
Troubled, Azul mulled the captain’s words. “Thank you. And his bones? In the ossuary?”
“I imagine De Gracia took care of it all.”
“I’ve been trying to visit the ossuary to pray to my sister’s—another sister’s—bones. A family tradition. Perhaps I could see both her and my father? But nobody will grant me entrance.”
“I am sorry to hear that.”
Azul didn’t doubt Captain de Macia’s sincerity and shook her head when she was offered some water. “I’m fine, thank you.” Then, allowing some frustration to seep through, “I wish I could see my sister’s bones and be assured that she rests with the gods.”
“Have you talked with the dean?”
“Yes. Well, no. She wasn’t there when I went to the Temple, and I don’t think she’ll grant me a meeting, judging by those who took my request in her stead.”
“And your brother? What did your brother have to say?”
“He said it might take some time to grant me entrance.”
De Macia grimaced. “The bigger the city, the slower time crawls. It’s bad timing. With the royal mourning lifted, things are going back to normal and everyone is busy. Celebrations, balls, politics … The court will be back in season proper, and there are a lot of dealings that need to be finished before that happens.”
Which explained, Azul thought, why it wasn’t so outlandish that people in Cienpuentes kept getting kidnapped. “I was told Noche Verde this year will be popular.”
“Yes, there will be street celebrations and plenty of balls.” De Macia sounded pained at the thought, possibly because the blue tabards would be the ones to answer for it if the events got out of control. “De Gracia should’ve received invitations, of course, but I’ll make sure you are included.”
“Could you make them for two, or is it too late?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” She glanced behind Azul, and her frown deepened. “What is it?”
Azul turned in her seat to find a new guard at the door.
“Someone has come for the sirese, Captain.”
De Macia looked at Azul, brows arching. “Shall we go see if you know them or if my guards must take care of some trash?”
With a grin, Azul agreed. They went down to the entrance, recruiting another couple of men on the way, the sum of their heels thudding loudly on the wooden floors. Her shadow stood outside, hat in his hands, at ease even with the two tabards flanking him. Azul had expected this, but she hadn’t anticipated the anger the sight brought out in her.
“I know him,” she told Captain de Macia. Curt words the woman didn’t deserve but didn’t seem to mind.
She squeezed Azul’s arm. “I will make sure the invitations are delivered to your hands.” And she’d make sure Azul was there to receive them.
“Thank you,” Azul said, knowing she should be relieved, but unable to shake the fury razing her veins.
Her shadow. Alone.
The emissary couldn’t be bothered to check on her himself, so certain Azul was incapable of anything more than being an annoyance.
Sharply, she crossed the entrance and exited into the plaza. Stopping right beyond reach of the guards outside, she glared at her shadow. “I see you come alone. Is he so sure I’ll do as he commands every time I slip your reach?”
The shadow nodded in one direction. Azul followed it to find Virel Enjul standing on the opposite side of the plaza, his expression unreadable, but his posture bored enough as he turned and walked away.
He had come, after all. Perhaps he wasn’t so sure of what Azul could do. Perhaps he was frustrated that he had made no inroads into figuring out who the other necromancer was, and it was dawning on him that Azul was not so fearful of his status as Emissary of the Lord Death. Or perhaps it was the fact that he could no longer steal her from Cienpuentes on a whim.
She could use this.
Bringing two fingers to her mouth, Azul let a loud whistle go, commanding the attention of everyone in the vicinity. But it was only Enjul’s attention she kept for more than those few moments of stillness when she lifted her hand and showed him the small bone in her palm.