Charlotte IV: The Erstwhile Guardian

  “This isn’t my fault, you know,” Srin Sabine feebly protested, looking appropriately concerned but not particularly guilty. “Monfroy would have done his thing whether or not I snuck in to visit Rebecca.”

  Perhaps, but you’re certainly the reason I wasn’t there to stop this. Tracking down this frivolous nonsense, blatantly violating the security that Charlotte’s team had so painstakingly developed for this highly confidential experiment, had dragged her out of position at a crucial moment. So crucial, in fact, that I can’t help but wonder if it was always part of the plan.

  “What’s important now is that we work together to—”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Charlotte kept a close on Srin while examining the area around the Gate. With Luce and Elizabeth Stewart both held hostage, both sets of guards had been made to stand down. Monfroy had pulled Stewart’s guards close to the Gate while directing most of the shadows to guard the perimeter, making it clear what consequences would befall their liege if they defied his orders. “I’m figuring out how to fix this.”

  And I can’t risk giving away any plans to the enemy.

  Going by Charlotte’s training in the Malin Guardians, the mere fact that Srin and Monfroy were both Mamela qualified as ‘evidence’, in much the same way that all Malin crimes, mysteriously, seemed to be committed by the native population while the Avaline remained pristine. Somehow Charlotte’s own origins had never factored into that; she was an exception by virtue of belonging to the Guardians at all. Right up to the moment she’d reported their malfeasance to Luce... ‘Nothing worse than a rat.’

  Charlotte had taken particular lengths to rectify that particular absurdity in the Shadows, mixing Avaline and Charentine recruits in their grouping and emphasizing fact above bias for the investigators, but with most of the senior officers hailing from Butcher Arion’s own retinue, there was only so much that could be done. And now that we’ve built up a real force from fresher faces, I still can’t risk inciting conflict between Luce and his uncle by dismissing them, let alone the risk incurred by cleaning out our most experienced commanders.

  It galled her, leaving them in place, for all that crucial officers like Graves and Mayana numbered among them. Fixing this was the reason I wanted to rise up the ranks in the first place. Now Charlotte answered directly to the rightful King of Avalon himself, and she still couldn’t get rid of that old sense of helplessness, an apathy in the face of injustice that had threatened Charlotte for her entire adult life.

  In any case, Srin Sabine’s purported reason to be here, visiting her beloved at the far edge of the world, seemed plausible enough. The scientists always seemed to flouting the regulations created for their own safety, of late resulting in this mess, but beckoning a girlfriend to a bomb test site was exactly the sort of carelessness Charlotte had come to expect. Rebecca Williams, in particular, was not one for understanding the gravity of her situation.

  Yet the possibility of treachery could not be dismissed. Srin’s name had come up on Marie-Laure’s list of Twilight Society members, suppressed as part of Luce’s bargain with the journalist and Vas Sarah, which created an undeniable, direct tie to Monfroy. And she was working for the Jays in Carringdon; holding Lizzie Stewart hostage and maiming her like that could very well be an attempt to damage the Harpies. Though in that case, it was hard to see what the Jays would gain by maintaining their alliance with Monfroy after the total destruction of his reputation.

  “Look, we’re on the same side here! I’m just saying—”

  “What did I tell you?” Dealing with Monfroy would be hard enough without a lovestruck civilian getting in the way. And that’s the most charitable way to describe you, Countess Srin. Letting her out of sight for even a moment risked freeing her to aid Monfroy and set off the bomb.

  Something about the whole situation recalled a years-old memory, brandishing an officer’s pistol at Camille Leclaire in the tunnels beneath Malin. Charlotte had known her for a traitor, though she hadn’t yet had the proof, but nonetheless had let the sage go on account of their common enemy in Lillian Perimont.

  And soon after, she soiled my reputation in the Guardians and consolidated enough power over the city to force us to flee. If Charlotte had shot her then and there, consequences be damned, Leclaire could never have taken Malin. Luce would have never been forced out, nor branded as a miserable failure back in Avalon. A reputation he still can’t fully shake, even after assuming the Protectorship of Charenton.

  Srin sighed dramatically, making a grand show of turning away from her.

  Approach openly, and I’ll be just as powerless as the other Shadows. Any disobedience to Monfroy, and Luce could get hurt. Not an option. But trying to pick him off from afar carried the same risk; Charlotte would have to hit Monfroy with the first shot, or he might retaliate. But then, if he wants to set off the bomb, we’re all dead anyway.

  Charlotte pulled out her pistol and began lining up the shot. Breathe. She steadied her hands, lifting the pistol just above Monfroy’s head to account for the bullet’s descent through the air. The air was calm of wind, at least, but it was still putting far too much risk into a single shot than she felt comfortable with.

  “What are you doing? That’s not going to—” Srin cut herself off when she saw Charlotte aim the pistol back at her. “Right, ‘shut up’, I know. But a bullet won’t kill Monfroy, and it’ll give our position away.”

  It will, but that won’t matter if he’s dead. But would it truly be insufficient, or was this woman trying to talk Charlotte out of shooting her collaborator? Admittedly, after seeing Monfroy drain the life from Ronald Esterton with a single touch, then strip the flesh from Stewart’s hand, it wasn’t hard to believe that he was keeping some of what he drained, nor that it would protect him from a single bullet. “What alternative is there? We can’t approach without endangering the Prince.”

  “Not if there’s any risk of being spotted,” Srin agreed. “I don’t suppose you have a Cloak of Nocturne, do you?”

  If only... Avaline officers of sufficient seniority and rank were awarded the artifact, but Charlotte held no formal position in the Avaline military hierarchy, nor had she had any other opportunity to get her hands on one. Luce had acquired one for testing, but it was back in Ortus Tower. “No,” she answered.

  “Well, that’s a shame.” Srin let out a laugh, her entire body darkening slightly. “I guess my father’s inheritance was even better than I’d thought.”

  Immediately, Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “Inheritance. Your father, Srin Savian, who never once served in Avalon’s armed forces, had a Cloak of Nocturne?”

  “Well—”

  “And you decided to take this precious heirloom with you into the frozen north, traveling vast distances in a strange land with a priceless artifact in your possession, all to visit your girlfriend?”

  Srin scowled, then took a moment to consider her response. “Yes, I did think it would be useful to be unseen when sneaking into a royal test facility that no one’s supposed to know about. As for my father, you’d have to ask him. But he belonged to a professional association that—”

  “You think he got it from the Twilight Society, where Monfroy was an honored member.” Not a bad answer, but don’t think I missed how long it took you to get there. “You do realize that your theory doesn’t actually divert any suspicion.”

  “Well, maybe if you stopped interrupting me, we wouldn’t be having these communication issues. All I know is that he left it to me. I’d be happy to look into where it came from, but I think we have more important things to deal with right now.”

  True enough, but that doesn’t actually answer the question. “Hand the Cloak to me. I’ll sneak up to Monfroy and choke him out before he understands what’s happening.”

  “Oh, so you’ve practiced using one? Because the call of the void is a powerful thing, and I could barely manage thirty seconds on my first try. I guess that’s your choice to take, my lady; you’d only risk being lost in Nocturne forever.” Charlotte might have suspected another convenient lie, but the Cloaks of Nocturne were common enough that their peculiarities weren’t exactly impossible to learn about, and that particular bit of research had seemed like it could prove essential. “Even if you made it, as soon as you revealed yourself, Richard would just crack that whip and pull you away.”

  “Richard...” Charlotte muttered, following Srin’s pointed finger towards a large man dressed in blue, a white headband tied around his forehead. She’d seen how he’d subdued Luce, and it wasn’t too hard to believe he was the threat that Srin was making him out to be, especially considering that he’d been the only one Monfroy had brought in order to take over the whole site. “Is a bullet going to be insufficient for him, too?”

  “I have no idea,” Srin admitted. “It’d be better to lure him away, so we can deal with Monfroy on his own.”

  Don’t think I failed to notice that ‘we’, Srin Sabine. You remain a suspect. Charlotte tried to twist her thinking, looking for a solution above an indictment. If Srin Sabine was working for Monfroy, what would happen if she was allowed to slink off in her Cloak?

  Not much, Charlotte realized. I’m the only one left that can put a stop to his plans. Most likely, she’d simply run away, or perhaps join her master by the Gate. It wouldn’t substantively make the situation any worse unless she put Luce in danger, which would have been easy enough to do by calling for help.

  Please don’t let this be another Malin, another Camille Leclaire. Charlotte took the measure of her for another moment, examining this woman who’d followed her lover to the end of the world. Something about her put Charlotte ill at ease, though it was difficult to pinpoint what exactly it was. Lithe and lanky, she didn’t look like much of a physical threat, nor was she dressed for a fight; in her slacks and grey sweater, she wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Tower.

  The single curl on her sweater in a darker shade of grey even matched the glyph for wind they’d been using for the lethiograph, not dissimilar to the way many of the scientists had latched onto the imagery once they learned of the project, especially those who’d been tapped to help test it. Rebecca Williams, for one, wore earrings with the dark circle and single white open eye that they’d been using to represent darkness. Easy enough to see where she’d gotten the idea.

  It’s nothing unbelievable, but nothing particularly indicative of innocence either. It rankled, but it didn’t seem like there was any other choice. Perhaps Malin was no different—with Leclaire’s help, we managed to stall Perimont’s forces long enough for Harold’s doppelganger to arrive and end the fighting. Perhaps. That didn’t mean Charlotte had any intention of repeating it.

  “You’re prepared to sneak up to Monfroy under your Cloak? To confront him?”

  Srin let out a sigh of relief. “Yes! As soon as you stop pointing that gun at me.”

  “Understood.” Charlotte lifted her pistol, pointing it up towards the sky, and watched as Srin remained in place, not making any kind of move now that she was free to do it.

  “Good, now if we could—”

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  Charlotte interrupted her by firing into the air, letting out an earsplitting crack that echoed across the snowy moors.

  “What the fuck? You’re going to give away our position!” Srin frowned, looking genuinely pained. “Fuck me, you just set off the bells.” She pressed her hands to her ears, tapping the back of her head with her fingers. “What is wrong with you?”

  “We have to draw Richard out.” Charlotte began reloading her pistol, readying herself for the fight. “Shouldn’t you be going? You don’t want to be here when he arrives.”

  “What if Monfroy sends the guards instead?” Srin spat out, hands still fixed to her head.

  “They all report to me. The more I can draw away from his line of sight, the more shadows I have at my disposal to act.” People I can actually trust, unlike you. “I doubt he will, though. Monfroy doesn’t want any risk of witnesses escaping, and he knows they’re not actually loyal to him. Sending Richard makes more sense.”

  As it happened, Monfroy sent both. Six shadows and three of Stewart’s guards followed Richard across the frozen plains, headed straight for the ridge they were hiding behind.

  “What are you waiting for?” Charlotte flicked her pistol in the direction of Monfroy. “I just gave you your opening.”

  Srin blinked, then phased into shadow, her cloak visible for an instant before it, too, slipped into Nocturne. No footsteps appeared in the snow, which was reassuring in one sense and worrying in another. If there’s no way to know where she went...

  As they approached, Charlotte spotted Oliver among the shadows, flicking his head briefly over to Charlotte but refraining from saying anything to Monfroy’s guard. If the others are smart, they’ll do the same.

  As soon as they passed beyond the ridge, Charlotte was ready to fire at Richard, but he called for a halt at the crest. Damn it.

  “Why did we stop?” Oliver asked, the other shadows nodding beside him. Richard didn’t respond, so Oliver continued with his best guess. “To stay in sight? You don’t have to worry about us, sir. Every one of us would die before allowing harm to come to Prince Luce.”

  “As we would for Lady Elizabeth,” a Stewart guard added, though her tone sounded much more perfunctory. Unless I’m just hearing what I want to hear. “The highland folk are spread thin; they aren’t much ones for heeding messages. One probably wandered too close and started a racket.”

  You’d better be lying, because otherwise you’re saying that your Lady agreed to an unacceptably high risk of one of them wandering into the blast radius. If it was a lie, though, it failed to convince Richard. He even turned back from the vast expanse, narrowing his eyes as they reached his master, and the grey-sweatered Countess confronting him.

  Now or never, then. Charlotte pulled the trigger, hitting Richard square in the chest. Immediately, all six shadows dropped to the ground alongside him, though the Stewart guards were slower to react. Charlotte began running forward, removing herself from cover to assume control before Monfroy could jeopardize Luce’s safety any further.

  “Lieutenant Charlotte! I didn’t—you saved us.” Oliver began to get up, face drenched in sweat despite the cold.

  “We’re not done yet. Check if he’s still breathing and bind his arms if he is,” Charlotte glanced at the Stewart guards, conveying the order to fall in line without need for words. “We need to move quickly. Monfroy was always the bigger threat. As soon as he starts struggling, be ready to move. Get—”

  “He’s up!” someone shouted.

  Charlotte felt a leathery tendril around her throat, pulling her back off her feet and twenty feet into the air. She could scarcely breathe as she landed in a heap, nose down in the snow. It was enough of a struggle simply to hold her head up. When she finally managed it, she was greeted with the sight of a Stewart guard face down in a circle of red snow. I didn’t even hear her cry out.

  Two shadows were dead beside her, while Oliver was clawing at the whip coiled around his neck as it choked him out. Painfully, Charlotte hauled herself to her feet, trying to get Richard’s attention.

  She succeeded, but it was too late for Oliver, whose blue face finally went still. Another shot from her pistol went wide, her aim still shaky after Richard had tossed her around like a cat with a wounded bird. She reached for her second pistol to avoid any need to reload, but Richard was faster, snapping out his whip fast enough to open a gash on Charlotte’s hand.

  Fuck. Charlotte grit her teeth as she saw the second pistol fall, landing in the snow with a muted thump.

  How is he still up and fighting? Most people could barely manage to stand after a shot in the chest. And whatever his patron’s invulnerability or lack thereof, the heavy red stains in his blue tunic showed that he was hurt. Just fighting through the pain to serve his master. I can’t do any less for Luce.

  Letting out an inadvertent roar, Charlotte lunged for him, slamming her empty pistol into his knee and getting him to drop down. Seizing the opportunity, she whipped it up towards his face, hearing a chillingly satisfying crunch as it impacted his nose. He reached out for his whip, but Charlotte was ready with the Gloves of Teruvo, snatching the end with a firm enough grip that he wouldn’t be able to use it.

  Someone handed her back her fallen pistol, but Charlotte didn’t even turn to look, shoving into Richard’s mouth to ensure there was no chance of survival.

  “Please,” Richard grunted, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. “Please.”

  Please what? Please don’t shoot? Or... Charlotte looked into his eyes, searching for any meaning, but all she found was pain, hatred, and shame. His head snapped upwards when she pulled the trigger, as if he were nodding in approval.

  A Stewart guard helped Charlotte back up to her feet, the both of them soaked in the blood of the fallen. Now that the blood was fading from her eyes, Charlotte had the chance to look around, to sigh with relief when she saw that Luce was still unharmed, pinned back against the Gate while Monfroy struggled with Srin. Up on the ridge, no one else had survived.

  Oliver. Idun. Porro... The other three shadows had been savaged so brutally that Charlotte couldn’t even identify them under the blood and tatters. “Thank you,” she eventually managed to say to the sole survivor of Richard’s search party, the words coming slowly as she struggled to reclaim her breath. “We need to get back right now.”

  I may have taken too long already. At least Srin had stayed true to her word, and Monfroy hadn’t had the chance to make good on his threats. Charlotte leaned on the Stewart guard, whose name she learned was ‘Jane Velin’, and the two of them began hobbling back towards the Nocturne Gate as fast as they could manage.

  Luce hadn’t stood idle, rallying the shadows to his side upon Monfroy’s incapacitation, but they couldn’t fire on him without hitting Srin, her hands around his neck. A bullet wasn’t good enough, but you expected that to work? Attacking him up close at all was a massive risk, considering what he could do with a simple touch. Then again, it was keeping him distracted, at least.

  Monfroy managed to get his hand around Srin’s wrist briefly, forcing her to jump back lest she end up like Ronald Esterton. Surprisingly agile for an archeology research assistant. She hadn’t seemed particularly hesitant about charging into the thick of the danger either, though Rebecca provided sufficient motive for that.

  Sufficient, perhaps, but not exculpatory. Still, there were larger problems to deal with right now.

  With sufficient distance between them, Charlotte took the opportunity to fire a bullet directly into Monfroy’s head. A spatter of blood and bone erupted out of the opposite, head swinging wildly from side to side, but by the time he straightened his posture, the wound had already healed.

  She tried not to think about the sight, a child’s body torn apart by her own bullet, and focused on the mission.

  “My instructions were so simple. Now you’ll have to watch your precious prince wither to dust.” Monfroy let out a laugh, uncannily high and whimsical. A dozen shadow guards stood between him and Luce, but that didn’t seem to deter him. Nor did he stop his march when all of them opened fire, each shot tearing apart more of his child’s body, before he reformed the flesh.

  Charlotte seized the opportunity, scurrying over to the scaffolding around the base of the Gate to find the solution to this madness. Srin seemed to have disappeared, to Charlotte’s scant surprise, but at least she’d done what she promised to. The rest, I can take from here. I hope.

  “The arrogance!” Monfroy let out a squeaky laugh, wildly discordant with the image of his tiny body being ripped apart by gunfire, his stride barely slowing. “Do you truly think that your little trinkets can stand up to my Undying magic? You truly are Harold Grimoire come again.”

  Charlotte grabbed what she needed from the supplies, heavy enough that Jane had to lift the other end. They moved slower than she would have liked, especially with the need to stay out of the line of fire, but they were still on track to reach Luce before Monfroy could touch him.

  It was a near thing, though. Luce and the shadow were walking backwards, trying to maintain a retreat in the face of Monfroy’s implacable advance, but he was still catching up. Charlotte managed to slip behind them, depositing her solution in easy reach as Jane split off to join the shadows firing at Monfroy.

  Then she saw the shadow, a sliver of Srin slipping back through Nocturne. “Hold fire!” she called out, causing several shadow and Luce to whip their heads back around with surprise.

  “Charlotte?” Luce snapped out of his confusion rapidly, then reinforced her order. “Stop firing!”

  For an instant, the guns fell silent, and the only sound in the air was Monfroy’s laughter and the squelches of his flesh as it knit back together.

  “Why did you—” Luce cut himself off as he saw Srin fully emerge from the shadows, swinging a massive, pale blue blade into Monfroy’s neck. With one clean stroke, she sent his head flying down into the snow.

  “That’s why.” Charlotte dashed forward and scooped up the head, careful not to touch it with anything but her gloves, and ran it towards the steel box she’d so painstakingly hauled over, throwing it down inside before Monfroy managed to grow anything more than his neck and shoulders, then slammed the lid shut and locked it tightly.

  “Good thinking ahead,” Srin offered, looking surprisingly unperturbed by what had just happened. There was even a hint of a smile on her face. Certainly an odd reaction if she’s here for exactly the reason she said she was. Could she have double-crossed Monfroy to further her own power, as Leclaire had done with Levian?

  That wouldn’t make her an enemy, necessarily, but certainly a threat that couldn’t be ignored.

  “Likewise.” Charlotte signalled to the shadows to look after the dead while Luce gave orders to collect the Monfroy box and begin walking it back towards the gate. “Where did you get that sword? I didn’t see it on you back at the ridge.” Nor have I ever heard of you training to use one. Why would a History student need to?

  “What sword?” Srin held up her empty hands, a ring on her finger glinting in the sunlight. Was she wearing that before?

  “Don’t play dumb. The one you just used to decapitate Lord Monfroy.”

  “Oh, yeah, of course. I found it near Monfroy—assumed it probably belonged to him or Richard. But it disappeared as soon as I made the cut. Do you have any idea where it could have gone?”

  No, but I’m thinking that you might. Srin Sabine had yet to pass the realm of plausible deniability—no individual excuse was insufficient, but the multitude of them collected all at once and laid at the feet of the Nocturne Gate made for difficult words to swallow.

  “It’s not important. We need a permanent solution to Monfroy.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. This DV-bomb seems perfectly suited to—”

  “We, meaning myself and Prince Luce, will confer and arrive at a decision.” But I can’t just leave you free to roam around. “Jane, take three shadows and escort the Countess Sabine to Rebecca’s cabin. I’m sure they’ll want to reconnect after this harrowing event.” And don’t let them leave without my word, she didn’t need to say.

  “Oh, is that how it is? Why don’t you do it, then? There’s no time to waste while his flesh is mending.”

  Why don’t you do it, then? Charlotte frowned. Something about this seemed familiar. “Haven’t we met before?”

  “Yeah, in Carringdon.” Srin let out a faint laugh. “Can’t blame you if it didn’t stick in your memory; what I was up to there didn’t amount to much once that Bill of Sale went public.”

  That’s not what I was thinking of...

  It was beginning to dawn on Charlotte why her mind had been drawn back to Malin after clearing her head of it for so long. “You were deft with that sword, especially if it wasn’t yours. I wasn’t aware that you had studied the blade.”

  Srin let out a nervous laugh. “Not really. I’ve got enough going on without trying to learn fencing too. Call it beginner’s luck.”

  “All the more impressive then.” Charlotte nodded to the shadows as they fell into formation around Srin Sabine, ready to escort her. “If you’re that good without practice, maybe you should try. I bet you could even master Diced Digits.”

  Srin’s step faltered, her face going slack with horror for only an instant before she forced a smile. “Never heard of that, sorry.” It didn’t matter. That pause had given her away, the memories coming into focus.

  Got you, Florette.