Chapter Eight

There is a common misunderstanding about the Lost Immortals. Everdark destroyed them during its first conquest of the Sea of Stars, but this did not wipe out the race of 'immortals' as we know them. Lesser beings survived to propagate and eventually repopulate the Sea. Even these beings know little about their forgotten predecessors.

The Bard Rhennalus,

The 'Histories'


London,

England,

December 14th, 1843

Sir Robert Peel did not like being made to hide. He had always prided himself on his ability to meet the opposition with poise and with resolve – this hiding and cowering business made his skin crawl. It wasn't fit for a man of his station. Then again, his opposition in the past had always been men with different political beliefs, not the sort of bloodthirsty monster that he had been warned might come for him.

What was the world coming to these days?

Peel reclined on the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table, unfolding the broadsheet and preparing himself to scowl as he considered the headline. To his surprise, it was apolitical, an interview with the composer behind the opera The Bohemian Girl, which had been playing at the Drury Lane Theatre for a few weeks now. Peel smiled a bit to himself; it was a rare treat to be able to read something in the morning that didn't agitate his ulcer.

A soft knock at the door into the sitting room drew his attention. A girl – well, a young lady – stood just beyond the threshold. The daughter of the Lockwoods, who were hiding him here, her name was… Maisie? Peel had a hard time remembering it. She wasn't pretty.

"Sir Peel? A group of three, here to see you."

Peel frowned. "Me? They asked for me?"

No one was supposed to know he was here, of course. Well, except for De Kere, of course, and a few other MPs, but certainly no one in the opposition, and he doubted that word would have gotten around –

"Yes, sir. It's rather odd, actually, they didn't arrive at the front door. They came in through the servant's entrance –"

"They've already been let in?" Peel said, eyes widening and setting the paper down. He sat up. "Well who the blazes had the bright idea to do that?"

A tall, handsome young man stepped around the girl and walked into the room. Strangely, he didn't look at Peel first. Instead, he immediately walked over to the room's other door, one that let into the hallway towards the dining room and opened it. He peered down it for a moment and then shut the door again. Then, curiously, he walked over to the room's drapes and drew them back a bit, looking out onto the lawn beyond them.

"Do you always keep this window closed during the day?" He asked.

"Excuse me?" Sir Peel said. He was beginning to wonder if he was having some sort of ludicrous dream. "Who are you, young man? How did you get in here?"

The man turned back to Maisie. She nodded. "Whenever Sir Peel is in the room, yes, we're very careful."

The man frowned and rubbed at his beard. "You mean to tell me that the curtains are only drawn during the day if the minister is in the room?"

Maisie thought about that for a moment. "Well, yes, I'd say so."

"Now, just a minute," Peel said, standing up and walking over to the young man. He waved a hand in the fellow's face. "You seem to be conversing about me as if I'm not in the room! And you still haven't introduced yourself! I say, a sane man would driven to outrage by this sort of treatment!"

The young man looked down at Peel in a way that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable, and unmanly. Then he spoke.

"I am Hans Westergaard of the Unified Empire. We spoke with De Kere, who indicated your willingness to hold an audience with Empress Anna Siguror. She is awaiting you at the study. I suggest you go to her while I discuss the matter of your security with the young lady."

Peel managed to stifle a groan. It was these folks, these ones that have been part of this trouble with Everdark from the very start. Peel knew that it sounded conspiratorial, but he wasn't entirely convinced that they didn't have a hand in starting this all in the first place. To boot, they were all a bunch of children, an entire nation run by people barely ten years older than Maisie. But he knew that the empress had some very powerful people under her command, and it would be rather foolish to refuse to speak to them outright. So instead he smiled in what he hoped was a rather welcoming way.

"Ah, the entourage from the new Empire! Yes, we've been looking forward to your arrival! We've heard some very good –"

"Less than two hours ago, foreign terrorists created an explosion in a civilian home less than three kilometers from this house," Hans said, "as a warning to demonstrate that they have the capability of doing it anywhere in this city, at any time."

Peel's smile faded.

"We have no idea whether they've already determined where your hiding, minister, but it's certainly possible. Perhaps likely. I have neither the time, nor the patience, for your disingenuous supplication. Direct it to the empress; perhaps she will be so kind as to extend to you the generosity of our protection."

Peel slowly swallowed. This man was formidable. After a few moment's thought, he could not come up with anything to say back, and he shuffled out of the room towards the study. On the way, he heard Westergaard say to Maisie, 'it's unfortunate that you've been closing the curtains only when Peel is in this sitting room. Anyone from the street has a fine view of this window, and of course if the curtains closed at regular intervals each day, an astute observer will notice the irregularities…'

xxx

Anna glanced over her shoulder from the seat before the desk as Peel walked into the room. He was fatter than she remembered him, and he had less hair. He looked quite a bit older. He nodded distractedly to Anna, mumbled a greeting to her, turned his gaze on Kariena for a moment and mumbled another, and then walked around them both and sat behind the desk.

"I must say that this is a rather bizarre way to meet, if you ask me," Peel said, shuffling about a few papers on the desk that didn't belong to him, and then straightening a pen. "Your man out there was rather rude, I say."

"You must forgive Hans, minister," Anna said, crossing one leg over the other and lacing her fingers together on her knee. "since his first death, he has had little patience for the kinds of men that his father might have once been friends with. Since his second death, he has lost what little patience he had left."

Peel shifted uncomfortably for a moment, and then suddenly bristled. "Now wait one second, here," he said, waving a finger. "I know what you're trying to do here, princess –"

"Empress," Anna corrected him.

"- you're trying to scare me! To make me think that I'm in over my head!"

Anna raised an eyebrow. Her eyes flickered briefly to Kariena, who shrugged.

"What?" Peel asked, exasperated. "Are you going to tell me that I'm mistaken?"

"No," Anna said. "But you must understand, minister, we're not trying to scare you."

"Then what do you call all this business about sneaking in through the servant's entrance, and frightening poor Maisie with the business about the front window, and –"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Anna said. "But Hans was directed to examine the circumstances of your security, minister. So if he was saying anything frightening, take it as a warning that you have been engaging in compromising behavior. As for the 'business' of sneaking through the servant's entrance, we are doing what we can to conceal your presence from Everdark. The Cult of Entropy has many agents in this city, and they are searching for you, minister."

Peel frowned deeply. Anna knew that the man was intelligent enough to understand the gravity of the situation, but in her experience, powerful men were often proud enough to act in profoundly unintelligent ways. At the end of the day, Peel was a fussy old man who didn't acclimate well to change. Would he be able to accept that he needed the Unified Empire's help?

"How did you end up in charge, empress?" Peel asked suddenly.

Kariena sat up in her seat, languor shaken off. Anna frowned.

"You mean in charge of my empire?" Anna replied.

"Yes," Peel said. "After all, your sister was the Queen of Arendelle, so how should it be that you end up the empress of the new empire? After all, you're soon to be a mother. I'm surprised that you torture yourself with the burden of rule."

Anna knew that Peel was deflecting his own discomfort, trying to put her on the back foot. Unfortunately, it worked. It was a question that she often asked herself. After all, she'd practically had no input on how she ended up here – Elsa and Hans had just sort of decided that she was right for the job. But that was the kind of thinking that Sorise would chide her for. It didn't matter how a monarch ended up on the throne, so long as they ruled well. Whatever 'well' meant.

"The burden of duty is hardly torture, minister," Anna said. "And I cannot see how motherhood should disqualify me from leadership any more than fatherhood."

Peel spluttered. "Oh, no, empress, I didn't mean that –"

"Dispense yourself of apologies, minister," Anna said, "and of pleasantries in general. I'm sure that you know why we're here."

Peel scowled, now. "Yes, to do the same thing to Her Majesty's land that you did to poor old Arianna," he said. "Well, I'll have you know that I don't have any say in the matter. Things work a bit more democratically around here than in Arendelle or Corona."

Anna sighed. "Minister, we're not here to argue with you. If you agree that your nation is in great danger, and you want our assistance defending it, then we should continue this conversation. If not, we're perfectly happy to leave and let you take back control of the situation."

Peel didn't really seem angry, just upset. He was probably afraid, but unwilling to admit it.

"If I take your help, you'll expect the country as payment! I'm telling you, it's not mine to give!"

"That's fine, minister," Anna said. "But we'll want your party behind joining the empire, and your recommendation to the queen."

"You're conquerors," Peel said, but his heart wasn't in it. Anna could see the fear in his eyes now. He'd probably already made up his mind, maybe days ago. He was going to say yes.

"Yep, we basically are," Anna said, smiling tightly. "Now, do you want to live another week, or what?"

She extended her hand across the table.

Peel looked disgusted with himself as he reached across to shake it.

xxx

Kariena adjusted the lace hem of her blouse and smiled brightly at the matronly woman standing in front of her, tilting her head slightly sideways. A winter coat lay crumpled on the ground around by her feet, shed to reveal the scanty outfit of a burlesque dancer. The woman looked Kariena up and down.

"Turn around."

Kariena turned around, wondering if there was a mark on her thigh from where she'd had a knife belted earlier. Kariena didn't feel embarrassed in the slightest as the woman prodded the space between her legs with a cane. The redhead widened her stance slightly. Kariena had been on the streets for as long as she could remember, and for years she'd been a stripper, and then some sort of hybrid between a call girl and an informant. She was never bashful about exposure anymore, especially now that she'd come to realize that she had the sort of body that tended to make other people embarrassed.

"I don't buy it," the owner of the burlesque said. Her name, evidently, was Madame Rouge, an attempt at sounding French that seemed uninspired even to Kariena, who didn't know any of the language. Madame Rouge's voice was gravelly from long years of pipe smoking.

"Don't buy what?" Kariena asked as the woman came back around to her front and looked her up and down again.

"I don't buy it, you're far too pretty to be looking for work in a place like this. You could walk into any gentleman's club in the city and walk out with a steady boyfriend. One who would take you on dates quite a bit nicer than the ones a gentleman who frequents this establishment would be able to offer you."

"If you must know," Kariena said, "my face has become… known, to much of the high society in this city. I don't have a particularly good reputation among them."

"Ah. I see," Madame Rouge said, clicking her tongue. "A couple of the guys that go with you find out that their pocketbook is a little lighter than they expected the morning after, so your name ends up blacklisted by high society. But by that time, you've got some debts, and you need some money to pay it back quick."

Kariena made a show of wincing. "Well, when you put it that way…"

"Hey, who am I to judge?" Madame Rouge said. "You're hired, of course. Just be warned that there's a good chance you end up taking some business away from the other girls, and they won't be too happy about that. I suggest you make friends with them all good and early, or it might come back to bite you. Put your clothes back on, honey."

Kariena reached down and scooped the coat back up and slid it on over her shoulders. "Can I start tonight?"

Madame Rouge had started to turn towards the room's door, but she glanced back. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. I suppose that's what you're dressed for, isn't it? Yeah. Sure. What do I care?"

And with that, the portly woman shuffled out. Kariena watched her go, and then slipped out into the burlesque house and quickly climbed the stairs, avoiding the parlor room below where the patrons would come to meet available women. Instead, she climbed the stairs, up to the rooms on the upper floor where patrons would complete their transactions. She walked along the hallway, tapping slightly on each of the closed doors along one side of the hallway, until one swung open. Unoccupied.

Kariena stepped inside and shut the door behind her. After a second's thought, she locked it. Then she walked across the room and opened the window. Like all the rooms on this side of the second floor, the view from the window looked across the street, towards another whorehouse.

So that's it, huh? Kariena thought, looking the building up and down. I figured Everdark's people would have tried to find a slightly nicer place to put up.

The building was older than the one Kariena was in now, and not particularly well-maintained. It was two stories, as well, and there was no visible commotion from the building, although several of the windows were lit. She picked one and watched the even glow for a full minute, never picking up a trace of movement from inside. Finally, she tore herself away, realizing that it probably wasn't safe to be standing backlit in a window across the street from the enemy for so long.

She walked back over to the bed and sat down.

Where is he? Kariena thought. Sure is taking his sweet time.

Almost as if on cue, a dark form dropped past the window, and then caught the windowsill. It quickly ambled onto it and slipped in through the opening. Hans was wearing all black, and Kariena could see that he wasn't wearing any exterior gun belts. That didn't mean he was without one, of course; Kariena would be willing to bet that he would have a pair in shoulder holsters, if nowhere else, but he still clearly projected that he was intending on remaining quiet.

Hans nodded to her.

"Thanks. I thought it would take you longer to get up to one of the rooms."

"No," Kariena replied, "it seems that I sufficiently outdid myself in the interview process. She hired me on the spot."

Hans nodded. "Good, good. Notice any activity over there?"

While he talked, he unshouldered a pack and opened it, removing from within a length of coiled rope and a midsize, wrought-iron bulb. It took Kariena a moment to realize that it was a grappling hook. He also removed something that looked like a cross between a pistol and a rifle – it had a pistol stock and chamber, but with a very long barrel that would probably have to be held with the other hand. He began to draw bullets from within a small pouch in the bag and chamber them into the carbine, rotating the barrel each time. One. Two. Three. Four.

Then he handed the gun to her. Kariena frowned for a moment – she didn't like, nor was she particularly good with – firearms, but she took it.

"Are you sure that this is such a good idea?" Kariena said, realizing for the first time that she was beginning to have doubts about this plan. "I mean, we're kind of putting all of our cards on the table, here."

"You know," he replied, "I often find that if I think too hard about a plan, I end up talking myself out of it, no matter how good it might be."

"Is that why you haven't made love to me yet?" Kariena asked.

Hans turned and gave her a pointed look.

"Kidding," she said, smiling brightly at him.

"Besides," Hans said, "if the Cult of Entropy wants to play a game of fear, then that's exactly what we're going to give them. They wanted to show us that they have the power to strike whenever, and wherever, they want, so I think that it's only fitting that we reply in kind."

Kariena watched him walk over to the window and start judging distances by extending his arm, and then his thumb. He squinted, then tried with the other arm. Triangulating between them.

"It's just that, when we would plan out jobs on the underground, back in New York," Kariena said, "we would take months on a single hit, making sure that we could make everything go off without a hitch. Vetting targets, making sure that we always had multiple ways out, you know?"
"If we wait too long, we miss our chance," Hans said very seriously. "Everdark might be something inhuman, Kariena, but its followers are more like you and me than they'd like to admit."

He stood up and stashed his pack by the window, and then walked towards it again. "Fear does influence them. And I'm going to make them afraid."

After a few moments of silence, Kariena sighed and then broke open the chamber of the carbine. She turned it upside down and spilled the bullets onto the bed. "Alright, fine. Then I'm not going to cover you with a damn gun, Hans. I'm going with you."

She stood up and withdrew a pair of broad, thin knives from within her coat.

The smallest edge of a smile crept onto Hans's face.

"Good." A hard glint flashed in his eyes. "Leave no survivors."

In one movement, Hans placed a hand on the windowsill and swept his way out.