Shadowplay

Briony and Estir Makewell had been shoved into a room that wasn’t quite a dungeon cell, but was no chamber for honored guests, either: dank and windowless, it smelled of mold and sweat and urine, and contained no furniture but a single crude bench; the sound of the outside bar being lowered had a distressing thump of finality.

“Should have known there was more to you than a chance meeting,” Estir sneered. “That old mare Teodoros, up to his same old tricks. Did he bring you along to get into someone’s bed, then, winkle out secrets that way? Now we’re all for the headsman’s block, thanks to you two.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not a spy—I had nothing to do with any of this!”

“Oh, that’s likely.” Estir Makewell sat back with her arms folded across her dirty dress, but Briony could see that the woman was shaking with fear, and her own anger turned to something like pity.

“Truly, I knew nothing about this. I was running away from... from my home when I fell in with you.” Estir sniffed in an unconvinced manner. “What do you mean, same old tricks?” Briony asked. “Has he done something like this before?”

The woman glared at her. “Don’t pretend with me, girl. I saw you talking to that black fellow like he was an old friend— that Xixian. How would you know someone like that if you weren’t one of Finn’s coneys?”

Briony shook her head. At least Dawet had escaped, not that it would do Briony any good. “I know him a little, but it’s nothing to do with Finn. I had met him before, in Southmarch. But I swear on...on the honor of Zoria herself,” she thumped her fist against her chest, bleakly amused to be swearing on herself, or at least her costumed self, “that I knew nothing about any spying.” She suddenly looked at the closed door. “Do you think they’re listening?” she asked in a quieter voice. “Did we say anything we shouldn’t have?”

“What do you care if you’ve nothing to hide?” sniffed Estir, but she seemed a little less angry. “You’re right, though. We should keep our mouths closed. If that fat know-it-all’s got himself in trouble, it won’t be the first time. That’s all I’ll say, except to curse him for dragging us all into it this time.”

Briony looked at the walls, so damp they seemed to be sweating. They had trudged for the better part of an hour to reach this place, which she assumed must be in the royal palace, but they were several floors below the main body of the castle. I could disappear here very easily, she thought. Executed as a spy, and that would be the last of me. King Enander would be doing Hendon Tolly’s work for him without even knowing it. Unless they’re already in league...? It was hard to believe— Southmarch had never been a threat or even a real rival to Syan. What could Tolly offer to the more powerful Syannese monarchy except the uncomfortable possibility of dynastic upheavals? What king would would want to encourage that unless it benefited him personally?

But what had Finn Teodoros been up to? Was it a coincidence Dawet had come to the innyard?

Briony fell into a frowning, miserable silence, trying to understand what had happened and decide what she could do about it. Me, she thought, it’s down to me. Keep drifting or stand up. At last she went to the door of the room in which they were prisoned and rapped on it hard, with both hands.

“Tell your captain or whoever is in charge that I want to talk to him. I want to make a deal.”

“What are you doing, girl?” Estir demanded, but Briony ignored her.

After a moment the door swung open. Two guards stood in the doorway, only a little less bored than when they had thrown the two women into the room. “What do you want? Make it fast,” said one.

“I want to make a bargain. Tell your commanding officer that if you’ll bring me the man called Finn Teodoros and let me speak to him, I swear on the gods themselves that afterward I’ll tell you something that will make even the king of Syan sit up and take notice.”

Estir was watching her with her mouth open. “You traitorous bitch,” she said at last. “Trying to buy yourself out? You will get us all killed!”

“And take this woman out,” Briony said. “She knows nothing. Let her go or put her somewhere else, it makes no difference to me.”

The soldiers, actually interested now, exchanged a brief glance with each other, then closed the door and tramped away up the corridor.

“How dare you!” Estir Makewell said, striding forward to stand over her. Wearily, Briony stared up at her, hoping she wouldn’t have to fight the woman. “How dare you tell them what to do with me?”

Briony rolled her eyes, then grabbed the woman’s arm roughly, silencing her. “Stop—I’m trying to help you.” Estir stared at her, frightened. She had her mask on now, Briony realized, the Eddon mask that none of the players had seen. She made her voice hard. “If you keep your mouth shut, you and the others may walk away from this happy and healthy. If you cause a fuss, I can’t promise anything.”

Estir Makewell’s eyes grew wide at the change in Briony’s tone. She retreated to the other side of the room and stayed there until the guards came and led her out.

Finn Teodoros had some bruises around his eyes and a bleeding weal on his bald head. He gave Briony a shamefaced look as the guards led him in and sat him down on the bench beside her.

“Well, Tim, my young darling,” he said, “it seems as if your disguise has been penetrated by these crude folk from outside the theatrical fraternity.” He touched his swollen cheek and winced. “I swear I didn’t tell them.”

“They found out when they searched me. It doesn’t matter anyway.” Briony took a breath. The very fact that the guards had left the two of them alone in the room meant they were almost certainly listening to everything that was being said. “I need your help,” she told Teodoros. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

He gave her a look that contained a mixture of caution and amusement. “And who in this wretched old world can actually say what that is, dear girl?”

She nodded, conceding the point. “As much truth as you know,” she said, then looked significantly around the room. “As much as you can tell.”

He sighed. “I am truly sorry you were caught up in this. I have tried to tell them that you had nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t worry about me. I am less innocent than you think, Finn. Just tell me one thing—were you working for Hendon Tolly?”

He stared at her, clearly calculating. “Tolly?”

“I may be able to protect you, but you must tell me the truth about that. I must know.”

“You, protect me? Girl, you are not Zoria in truth, you merely aped her on the boards!” He smiled, but it was little more than a fearful twitch. He swallowed, leaned close to her. “I... I do not know,” he said in a voice that was scarcely even a whisper. “I was given a...a task...by someone else. Someone high in the government of Southmarch.” She hazarded a guess. “Was it Lord Brone? Avin Brone?” His eyebrows rose. “How would you know of such things?”

“If I can save us, I will, and then you will learn more. Were you to meet with Dawet dan-Faar on Brone’s behalf? Drakava’s man?”

This time Finn Teodoros could say nothing, but in his surprise could only nod.

Briony stood up, walked to the door. “I wish to talk to the guard captain, please,” she called, “or anyone in authority. I have something to say that the king himself will want to know.”

This time there was a much longer wait before the door opened. Several guards came through, followed a moment later by a well-dressed man in the high collar of a court grandee. He had gray in his pointed beard, but did not otherwise seem very old, and he moved with the grace of a young man. He reminded her a little bit of Hendon Tolly, an unpleasant association. “Do not rise,” the noble said with perfectly pitched courtesy. “I am the Marquis of Athnia, the king’s secretary. I understand you believe you have something to say that is worth my listening. I’m sure it goes without saying that there is a very unpleasant penalty for wasting my time.”

Briony sat up straighter. She had heard of Athnia—he was a member of the old and wealthy Jino family and one of the most important men in Syan. Apparently the guards had taken what she said seriously. On the bench Finn Teodoros swayed, almost fainting with apprehension at the appearance of such a powerful figure.

“I do.” She stood up. “I can do no good to anyone by proceeding with this counterfeit. I am not an actor. I am not a spy. I do not believe this man here or any of the other actors are spies, either—at least they meant no harm to Syan or King Enander.”

“And why should we believe anything you say?” the marquis asked her. “Why should we not take you down to the brandy cellars and let the men there extract the truth from all of you?”

She took a breath. Now that the moment had come, it was surprisingly difficult to put off the cloak of