Page 144 of Play of Shadows

My grandfather and Shariza dragged me to the back of the stage, where we sat gazing out as the sun rose and sanity slowly began to settle over the courtyard.

‘I can’t believe it,’ I said faintly, feeling the exhaustion deep in my bones. My eyes kept flickering shut, but I badly wanted to see what wonders the Knights of the Curtain had wrought upon our beleaguered city.

I smiled as I caught a blurry glimpse of Beretto out among the crowds, fist in the air, fighting to be heard over Abastrini;no doubt the two were arguing over who got to give the victory speech. Closer at hand, I noted my grandfather with a rather too familiar arm around Shariza’s shoulders; he was obviously regaling her with the many schemes he’d devised to defeat the Vixen, should she not have arrived in time to save him.

In the courtyard, there was even more confusion, for the fight had ended and the common folk found themselves brandishing weapons they scarcely knew how to hold, while around them lay the results of their hard-won victories and sacrifices. The voices of those long-dead warriors whose own battles had ended upon the bloody slopes of Mount Cruxia were dissipating now, returning first to me, and then back into the past where they belonged. Artisans and merchant lords, alley-rats and even those few nobles who’d chosen to fight against the Orchids were turning to each other, sharing first shock, then grim nods of acknowledgment. Some even shook hands.

Not a bad end to my first play,I thought.

‘Damelas?’

I looked up to find Shariza standing over me. She looked unexpectedly confused and awkward. I was about to comment on it, but couldn’t quite compose a response that was both witty and comforting at the same time. Only then did I recognise that look: Shariza was afraid.

I heard her say, ‘Damelas, you’re bleeding from your eyes and ears again. Whatever you’re doing, you’ve got to stop.’

She was shaking me now, which was also strange, as I couldn’t feel her hands on my shoulders. A breeze– that’s what I was feeling, like all those memories drifting through me were caught in a rising wind. The sensation grew stronger, and soon I couldn’t hear her or my grandfather, even though the two of them looked like they were shouting at me.

A chill began in my fingertips and toes, then slid up my limbs. As I looked out at the victory celebrations beginning in thecourtyard, the sense of elation and pride at the part I’d played in these grand events fled me. It was as if I didn’t belong to this place and time at all– as if I’d been an actor performing a role and now the curtain was falling and it was time for me to leave the stage.

The wind really was awfully strong now. If I’d not been leaning against the back in this enormous amphitheatre with its massive marble columns, I’d surely have been blown away like a leaf. It was raining now, too, for my cheeks and upper lip were wet. My grandfather’s trembling hand wiped the rain from my face, but his fingers came away slick with blood.

Oh. I felt the memories of all those dead at Mount Cruxia grasping at me, pulling me back with them to their own place of burial.

I understand now.

Chapter 74

The Burial Mound

There was a terrible pain in the left side of my chest. I tried to rub it away, but the broken end of a rapier blade embedded there kept getting in my way. All around me lay the dead and dying, some moaning or weeping, though most were silent.

I’m sorry, Corbier said.

I was less surprised by the Raven’s voice than I was at my pleasure in hearing it.

I can’t believe I’m saying this,but I think I missed you.

Let’s not get too sentimental, Corbier warned.We have larger affairs with which to concern ourselves.

I coughed hard, choking on the blood in my throat. A second later it shifted enough that I could breathe again. In my own time, I’d suffered a minor wound where Monsegino’s blade had scraped against one of my ribs. Here, however, Pierzi’s tip had slid effortlessly between the bones to reach a far deadlier target. Why wasn’t Corbier dead by now?

As always, you descend into melodrama, Player. Only on the stage does every duel end with a rapier blade through the heart. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to hit such a precise target? Pierzi wasn’t even trying to attack; I had to trick him into stabbing me.

We’re going to live?

Oh, no, we’re definitely going to die. The tip nicked the heart before it buried itself in my lung. It’s just a slower and considerably more painful death.

I considered the grim prognosis. My chestdidhurt a great deal, but I wasn’t overly troubled by the sensation. Pain, I discovered, turns out to be far less frightening when you know it’s fatal.

I’m glad you’re here, Corbier said.I wasn’t sure I’d be able to draw you back to me.

I’m here. You’re not alone.

The Raven chuckled.Again, you assume sentimentality, Veristor. You think I brought you here to hold my hand as I bleed out in the mud?

Then wh—?

Before I could finish the question, the answer became apparent. Across the battlefield, those remnants of the archduke’s troops who hadn’t surrendered were fleeing, pursued by Pierzi’s soldiers. The wounded were being carried away, while enemy soldiers not quite dead were being dispatched. A figure in physician’s blacks was walking towards me, but Corbier had lost so much blood that my eyes could make out little more than a faint silhouette. Something about how the man moved, his unhurried,dispassionategait, chilled me to the bone.

---