The Iron Kingdoms Chronicles : The Black River Irregulars II : Black Crowns by Richard Lee Byers

Author:Richard Lee Byers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skull Island eXpeditions
Published: 2017-10-09T00:00:00+00:00

— 11 —

THE IRREGULARS HAD TAKEN A SUITE OF ROOMS with a balcony overlooking the sunlit street. Too restless to sit, Colbie stood peering downward with her hands repeatedly tightening on the wrought-iron railing and the breakfast of sausage and eggs she’d forced down heavy as a slug-gun round in her gut.

At the moment, she was reevaluating her ambitions. If she felt this upset when two men she’d sent into danger went missing, how would she feel when she was in command of a larger mercenary company and a dozen of her men died? Or twenty? Or—

With a scowl, she choked off that line of unprofitable thought. She’d endure the regret because it was part of her chosen profession, and anyway, in this instance, it was premature. She didn’t know what had happened to Milo and Eilish.

Last night, she and the rest of their comrades had kept the library and monastery under surveillance. They’d been ready to create a diversion if something went wrong, and sure enough, an eerie howling from within the complex sounded the alarm, but the alchemist and arcanist never emerged from any of the buildings. Still, that didn’t mean they were dead.

Canice came out onto the balcony. She had her armored greatcoat on and her broad-brimmed hat pulled down over her dyed black curls. “Llael,” she growled with what was apparently anger directed at the entire shattered kingdom.

Colbie sighed. “If you’re going to remind me that you didn’t want to take the job, or to keep at it when it got more complicated—”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Sorry. I’m edgy.”

“I came to say that if the Khadorans took Eilish and Milo alive, they likely won’t keep them in Angellia’s library. It’s not a prison. So I’m heading out to find some of my old contacts. If I find out where our people are being locked up, we can mount a rescue.”

Colbie peered at the gun mage. “Are these the same ‘old contacts’ you hoped to avoid lest the Resistance find out you’ve returned?”

Canice shrugged. “I could have stayed in Corvis. I came along instead. Now I have to do my…” She leaned out over the balcony and smiled. “Or not.”

Colbie turned her gaze to where Canice was looking. Milo and Eilish had appeared in the street. They’d discarded their monastic disguises, but they had a companion, a middle-aged man with a beak of a nose, who was wearing a habit.

Spying his comrades on the balcony, Eilish gave them a grin and a jaunty little wave that conveyed that of course he and Milo were all right. Eilish Garrity was such a supremely resourceful fellow that Greylords, Winter Guardsmen, and warjacks had only proved a brief inconvenience. Relieved as she was to see him, his cockiness also made Colbie imagine picking up the nearby planter of fragrant marigolds and dropping it on his head.

Instead, she gathered the Irregulars—and the monk—in the suite’s sitting room. “May I present,” Eilish said, “Ion Badescu, chief curator of Ascendant Angellia’s library.

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