Part II continued

"A Long Day in Dunwall"

Chapter 13

The Outsider's horrifying words echoed in my heart like a kettledrum, pounding and pounding. I couldn't think. I felt helpless, careening out of control towards an end I could see but not stop. I turned towards the way out, a flee response exploding in my chest.

Corvo appeared in front of me, Blinking, a cold snap of wind encasing him in blue. I stumbled back as he just stood there, blocking the door.

"Wait," he said.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. For what? It was all falling apart and we could do nothing! I pushed forward, but as I swung past him, he roughly grabbed my arm.

"I said wait!"

"Let go of me! I'm going back!"

He tightened his grip, hurting me. "What, to the throne room?" He said it like it was the stupidest idea he'd ever heard.

"Yes, damn you!" I said, yanking my arm back. We silently glared at one another. "What else can we do?"

Corvo didn't respond right away; I watched his eyes search my face, then harden. He crossed his arms over his chest and calmly said, "We can cancel the ceremony. Lock down the palace."

"No! We can't do that!"

"We can. We will."

"No! What I will do is go down there and say my stupid speech and smile at all the people and sit on my precious throne while YOU"––I grabbed the hilt of his folding sword, yanking in brutal anger, pulling and pushing so fiercely he uncrossed his arms to steady himself on his feet––"will draw your sword and stab whatever witch we find through the heart! You will kill her."

Yes, kill.

I refused to let my father deal with this situation nonlethally, like he normally preferred.

Fear filled my heart. Let there be no hesitation. The secret witch was coming––was probably already here. If we had but one chance to get this right…

I pushed him aside, storming out the door, but in the hallway, I turned back, feeling sick, my stomach twisted in knots.

I said, my breath catching, "And you will leave Rosemary alone."

"No." His eyes were savage. He stretched his arm back, pointing towards the safe room. "She could have information. Critical intel."

I hesitated, doubt creeping inside me like a worm.

His voice softened. "Your love for her is blinding you, Em. Let me interrogate her."

Torture her. Would my father do that? His eyes were stone cold, holding the promise of a man who'd do anything to protect the ones he loved.

"No," I said, putting on my Empress face. "You will not. That's an order, Royal Protector. We will take our chances and return to the Throne Room."

This time I watched him hesitate.

It felt like an eternity––watching him consider what to do with me. Uneasiness like a long thread stitched through my skin. I felt a chilling cold creep down my spine. Sorcery, I suddenly realized. Time was his to manipulate. In the blink of an eye, he could have already gone into the safe room, tortured Rosemary for information, and then returned to me.

Anger boiled up, choking my words. "Did you just––"

"She's gone," he said, lowering his sorcery hand.

"What?"

He stepped closer, in my face. "Rosemary's gone. She's no longer in your safe room. You still trust her?"

He was livid. Justified, his eyes radiated.

I stared at him, speechless. I couldn't believe it. How could Rosemary escape without either of our signet rings? It was impossible! Was Corvo lying? But why…

Corvo swept right past me without meeting my eyes. He said with thundering finality, "We cancel the ceremony."

"We can't," I cried, staggering after him down the hallway. "People will think––"

"I don't give a damn what people think," he said, suddenly snapping around to face me. For the second time, I stumbled into him, but this time his hand flew to my neck. His fingers dug into my flesh, lightly squeezing. He glowered at me as he held me in a choking grip. He snarled, "Give me a reason not to lock you in the safe room, Your Majesty."

I grabbed his arm with both hands and yanked downwards as hard as I could. "You will not!"

He released his hand. I fell back, gasping for breath. I knew Corvo could easily choke me out in an instant. If he used his powers, I wouldn't even see it coming.

"Is this your idea of protecting me?" I spat, trembling with so much rage and shock that I could barely talk. "Just sling me over your shoulder and––"

"You're not thinking straight," he said in grating tones, but he shook his head, his calm façade crumbling as fear sparked in his eyes. Fear of losing me. He pulled me by the shoulders into his embrace, crushing me against his chest. I wanted to push away in anger. Anger that he couldn't protect me. Anger that I couldn't protect myself.

But then I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could. He was my father. He was the only one I could wholly trust.

"I'm sorry, Emily," he said, his breath hot on the top of my head. "What the Outsider said…" He gently pushed us apart. Tears blurred my vision, streaking down my cheeks as I gazed up at him. "Wyman is a good man."

"You're worried about that?"

"I don't want anger to be the last thing between us. I know how you feel about him." My father's dark eyes softened, his lips curling. "I don't always think he's a pansy."

"Don't lie, Father," I said, an impossible laugh bursting free through my tears as he smiled at me.

It was a rare sight seeing that smile.

I sniffled, shaking my head. "I know it's your job to disapprove of every man who courts me."

They are night and day, I thought. Corvo was carved by shadows, a man now in the winter of his life. He had lived through so much tragedy and bloodshed, yet still he remained a man, an honorable man. Wyman was soft compared to that. He knew nothing of darkness.

My Morley Red. He was a farmer's son, had been taught poetry and prose, and was living his bright, young life between the green fields of his homeland and the luxuries of Dunwall's royal court, having been invited only by virtue of his distant kinship with the Queen of Morley. If not for that, we would never have even met.

Corvo rubbed my tears away with a gentle thumb. "It's my job to keep you safe. I promised Jessamine I'd protect you when she…" His eyes clouded, remembering past shadows. "When she died in my arms."

I could see steel forming in his heart, hardening his resolve to keep me safe. The Outsider had claimed there was darkness in his soul, that he hated all the world for taking Jessamine away from him. But there was light, too. I could see it in his eyes.

I was his light.

I took a deep breath, a calm acceptance filling my heart. "We cancel the ceremony."

We moved together, taking the marble steps down a level. I saw Coral cowering in the darkened lounge beneath the stairs, afraid to meet our eyes. She was trying to look invisible, busying herself with dusting the silver.

I had no idea what she'd overheard, but it couldn't have been good. I looked to Father, but he just shook his head at me. Coral was loyal. She'd say nothing of what she'd overheard, and with the Outsider's earlier presence, it was difficult to gauge what exactly she had heard.

Still, I hated to leave her like that.

As we passed into the next room, Captain Mayhew spied us through the glass door and hurriedly entered, her expression locked in confusion and unease.

"Lord Corvo! Empress Emily. What's happened?" She closed the door securely behind her and whispered, "Have you learned who the Crown Killer is?"

"Captain Mayhew," Corvo said, his voice commanding. "Take two of your most trusted men and go upstairs. I need you to guard the safe room door. If it opens, you run. Come and find me."

"Father!" I interjected just as the Captain said, "Yes, Lord Protector." As the Captain turned back to the throne room to gather her men, I demanded, "But why guard the door? You said yourself Rosemary is gone."

He shot me an annoyed look. "The back door, Emily. Your safe room is a way out and in. She might come back. Only the Void knows what she's capable of."

"If that's true, how is Alexi going to stop her?"

"She's not. That's why I told her to run and come find me." His voice turned gruff, laced with irritation as he narrowed his eyes at me. "If you don't like risking the Captain's life, then you should have told me the truth yesterday."

"I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry for not pushing you," he growled. "I had a feeling you were lying about something, but I let it go. I told myself I should just wait for you to tell me on your own, but clearly that was a fuckin' mistake."

I winced beneath his biting tone. I remembered all too well. Last night, in the throne room when we had sparred… I suddenly wished I could go back in time, to force answers out of Rosemary before I'd rendered her unconscious. "No more mistakes," I said.

I eyed the glass door, suddenly reluctant.

My father stood shoulder to shoulder with me. "You ready?" he asked.

I gave him a dubious look out of the corner of my eye.

The glass door reopened as the Captain returned with two brawny officers in tow. Lieutenant Fraser and Corporal Wentworth. They marched passed us, nodding brusquely as they headed upstairs. In the next instant, the glass door banged open again, depositing a very irate Erick Plainstow into our midst.

He said, wringing his hands, "Where have you been? The Duke has arrived!"

"We're canceling the ceremony," the Royal Protector said, striding headlong towards the throne room, not looking back.

Erick looked faint. "What?!"

I grabbed his arm before he could chase after my father and get in the way. "Erick, would you please look after Coral? She's in the next room. She needs someone to calm her down."

"Calm her down?"

I put an edge into my voice. "Yes."

I turned away, following my father into the throne room, dreading every step.

I closed the door behind me, catching sight of Erick through the glass. He looked ghostly pale, his eyes as round as coins. A lot of people are going to die echoed in my ears, the Outsider's words like a snake coiling around my heart. "Damn you, Outsider," I whispered under my breath.

Music filled the Throne Room, a violin's sweet, yet somber notes reverberating across the hall. Nobles were thronged at the edges, murmuring in anticipation, their faces caught up in wonder. There were so many I could barely catch sight of my Elite Guard in the shadows behind the columns.

Thick bouquets of blue flowers further obscured my view. Who let all these people in?

"The Duke's clockwork soldiers!" a noble cried in amazement.

"Oh, my! I can't wait to see them up close," a shrilly woman exclaimed, fanning her face with an expensive pearl fan.

"Just you wait, my dear," a pompous man replied. "A year from now, it'll be all the rage! Every reputable household will have a clockwork soldier. Mark my words."

"I'd replace my entire household guard in an instant if I could afford it. Lazy buffoons!" she said, peeling off in laughter.

In a daze, I climbed the steps to the throne and stood beside my father. He was scowling, his dark eyes fixated on all the revelry, watching as the Duke's grand procession approached through the open doors. It was all happening too fast.

"The Duke has arrived!" another voice cried out in joy.

"About time," a woman huffed.

Lieutenant Ramsey meandered up the steps to stand near me, his weathered face a picture of utter calm, if not boredom. He acted as though nothing was amiss. He announced, loudly, "All hail Her Imperial Majesty, Emily Kaldwin!"

A few faces looked in my direction and bowed, but most were pivoted on the Duke's procession as it marched down the long aisle towards the throne with triumphant applause. Ramsey grandly announced, "Your Highness, may I present His Grace Luca Abele, Grand Duke of Serkonos!"

He added, less enthusiastically, "And his brother, the Lord Cosimo Abele."

I sat down. In truth, I probably fell into my throne chair, every muscle in my body turned to water.

"We cannot stop it," I breathed.

Too late.

Leading the procession were two clockwork soldiers, towering above every man in the throne room as they clanked down the aisle. I couldn't keep my eyes off them. Fearless obedience, I thought as I stared in fascination. Their bird-like heads were carved of polished wood with enormous gaping holes where rounded eyes blazed forth in electrical light, forward and back.

They had razor sharp blades for arms, two on each slender limb, glinting silver. They were alive, all spinning gears and humming electromagnetic energy.

Watching them, I was reminded of the Sunset Regalia when Lord Cosimo had propped up his clockwork foot, proudly showing off what the Grand Inventor Kirin Jindosh had done for him. His prosthetic feet paled in comparison to the engineering marvels now before me: artificial men brought to life. They moved of their own volition.

"What is this, Ramsey?" Corvo growled, turning a dark look on the Lieutenant. "I didn't authorize those things."

Ramsey said nothing. I looked up at him in bewilderment. His face was passive, but his eyes held secrets. The Throne Room doors slammed shut with an echoing boom. I gasped, fidgeting in my chair, my stomach clenched tightly. I glanced up at my father, but he appeared calm. Wary. I tried to mirror him, to be strong. Would he still cancel the ceremony? What was going on?

In synchronized fashion, the two clockworks soldiers halted before the throne, stepping backwards to face each other. Together they raised their bladed arms to full extension above their heads, forming a salute above the Duke of Serkonos as he walked beneath, his dark eyes shining.

Arrogance bled from his every pore. I'd thought Lord Cosimo was bad; this man was far worse. He devoured me with a single glance, reaching across the distance between us with undisguised impudence in his eyes.

"Your Imperial Majesty and Royal Protector Corvo Attano, a native of our homeland," the Duke said. "Serkonos offers condolences on this sorrowful day, and gifts to remind you of our nation, the rising star on the southern horizon."

The clockwork soldiers lowered their arms as the Duke of Serkonos knelt before me on one knee.

Even that felt condescending.

He was a heavyset man with broad shoulders and a rounded gut, richly dressed in a vanilla coat with mulberry pants. We'd met before in years past, but our encounters were typically infrequent and ceremonial. He ruled the Isle of Serkonos from afar, sending Gristol riches from its silver mines as tribute, and stacks of gold bars in payment for taxes levied by the Crown. The south made my Empire rich, and in return, I allowed their government a measure of independence. I stayed out of their affairs.

I wore my Empress face like a shield. "We thank you, Your Grace."

As he slowly stood, I lifted my gaze to watch the crowd. I saw High Overseer Khulan in the far back near the doors, glowering at the Duke's procession with distaste and unease. The Blind Sister was nowhere to be seen.

The Duke's Grand Guard had also carried in a narrow carriage by hand, a plush contraption in red velvet. I couldn't see who was inside, but leaning casually against it was the Duke's brother, the Lord Cosimo Abele. He was dressed far less flamboyantly than last night's party. Instead of wild colors, he was dressed in a rose-vanilla coat with shiny black leather pants. His pompous demeanor, though, was ever his raiment of choice.

His dark eyes glittered as our eyes met. He lowered his chin in a curt bow, grinning at me with thinly veiled lust burning in his eyes. I thought of my disturbing dream last night and shuddered.

The Duke said, "Save your thanks, for now I give you the greatest gift of all: family."

It took my breath away. Family?

He turned his back on me, spreading out his arms towards the red carriage in grand welcoming. He proudly announced––with no fear: "I present the lost sister of Jessamine Kaldwin. Your rightful Empress, Delilah Kaldwin."

Treasonous words. Right there in my Throne Room. Even with the Outsider's warning, it felt like a slap to the face, a shocking betrayal.

The crowd reacted, a wave of shocked gasps commingling with excited whispers. For and against.

"Impossible," Corvo hissed.

I looked to him, whispering fiercely, "My mother had a sister?"

My father sneered at this question, his face turning ashen gray. Neither of us had expected this.

I stared in breathless astonishment as a tall, graceful woman stepped down from the velvety carriage as though expecting all the world to bow to her. The witch. There was no doubt. She held her head high and her back straight, bending her arms outwards as though welcoming us to her majestic presence.

She approached me fearlessly. "My dearest niece. Hello." Her voice rang sweet.

"It's not true!" Corvo shouted, but his voice was drowned in the crowd's furor.

Nothing stopped her approach. As she neared, I tried to catch hints of my mother's look in her face. Were they sisters? Her black hair was cropped short and her eyes were a brilliant blue, not a soft green like my mother's.

She boldly took the steps to my throne, directly towards my father. I couldn't believe she would do that. Lord Corvo's exploits during the Rat Plague were legendary, and even though I knew he wasn't the Crown Killer, most people easily believed it––and feared him greatly. She did not.

She said, her voice echoing eerily, "My father was Emperor Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin, and Jessamine was my younger sister."

She sounded amused that she had to explain herself.

But she did.

Choreographed, I thought. Every moment falling into place. I felt like a helpless spectator, entrapped by her haughty voice.

And that voice… It was as hauntingly seductive as the Outsider's voice, an echo of the Void chilling each word. She was obviously a witch of great power.

She went on, "At the time of her death I wasn't ready to make myself known to you and I was forced to leave Dunwall… But now I'm home." Delilah spread out her arms, facing the crowd in celebration of her announcement.

"This is my home," I said, my heart thumping in my ears with alarming cadence, rising faster and faster.

She turned to face me, then, her cold blue eyes flashing in captivated excitement. Like one who has waited so long for this moment. Dark red roses shimmered at her breast, pinned to the collar of her pant suit. She wore a pelt of long feathers over her shoulders, black as a raven's wing. She was a thin woman, her bones sharp on her pale, angled face. Her eyes were lined with black, reminding me of the Outsider.

She, too, seemed inhumanly cold.

"Little sparrow, blackened by bad memories," she said. "I'm here to relieve you of your crown. My father's promise, whispered in secret so long ago, is now fulfilled."

"Watch your tongue," Corvo said. "Emily Kaldwin is the daughter of Empress Jessamine Kaldwin."

Disdain flooded her eyes as she turned to face my father dead on, approaching him with hips swaying. She coyly lifted her hand to my father's cheek. "Oh, Royal Protector––"

My father slapped her hand away, glowering down at her. He was easily a head taller. She seemed so weak and thin compared to his bulky muscle, but her gaze was defiant.

Delilah was fearless.

She laughed, her lips curling in scorn. "Look at you. An old crow protecting his little sparrow. How naïve to think you could get away with these murders. Living in my palace has protected you, but that's over." She glared at me with spiteful venom, then turned away, facing the hushed crowd. "Here me, all of you, your rightful Empress has returned!"

She stepped down from my throne as the clockwork soldiers suddenly spurred to life, spinning towards me. The Duke shouted triumphantly, "All hail the Empress Delilah, First of her name!"

The Duke's Grand Guard drew their swords, the ringing sound of metal echoing over the gasps and applause of those in the crowd.

"Arrest Emily Kaldwin and her father for the Crown Killer murders!" the Duke shouted, impudent rage in his eyes. Lord Cosimo licked his lips, staring at me.

"What!?" I shrieked, straightening in my throne chair, panic seizing my heart. How dare he shout commands in my throne room!

I heard screams and the sickening wet crunch of metal piercing flesh and bone, but all seemed to fade away as my focus narrowed to my immediate vicinity. Three guards––my own men from my Elite Guard!––took the platform with swords drawn. Their menacing eyes snapped towards the Royal Protector.

In a flash of glinting metal, my father drew his folding sword. It fully extended in a blur of slicing motion as Corvo protectively hovered in front of me, crouching slightly. It was a shock to see my father draw his sword. I was truly in mortal danger.

A pause. I felt like the whole world held its breath as Corvo eyed the three men stepping cautiously closer, like wolves sniffing out its prey. Traitors, I thought.

In the next instant, all was blood.

I saw my father raise his sorcery hand, manipulating time. In the blink of an eye, the man to my left was spurting blood from his gaping neck, his hands clutching at empty air as his severed head bounced to the floor. My father was behind the middle man now, wrenching his sword from the man's chest as he crumbled dead at my feet. The man on my right––I didn't even see him fall. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, his neck slashed with spurting blood gushing across the carpet runner.

So much blood…

My father's dark eyes met mine for an instant, a world of stricken terror and regret, then he turned away, again raising his sorcery hand as he Blinked. He shot like an arrow towards Delilah, one moment before me, the next across the room grasping her by the neck, a trail of blue mist behind him.

I jumped to my feet, feverishly watching as he pierced his sword through her chest. True aim, right through the heart, I thought with relief.

But suddenly black tendrils sprang from the ground, twisting and tightening around Corvo's body. He was trapped! Delilah's sorcery!

"Father!" I screamed.

Corvo was fast disappearing into the black folds of that malignant vine. I lunged towards him, but I snapped unexpectedly backwards, my hand caught on something.

I looked back in astonishment as Ramsey roughly pulled me towards him.

I glared into his eyes. Traitorous dog!

As hard as I could, I punched him in the jaw. I had to get away! Father needed my help! Ramsey's head flew back from the blow, but he recovered quickly, backhanding me with a brutal fist, sending me sprawling towards Delilah's feet.

Pain splintered across my face, an agony of whitewashed stars in my vision. I was on hands and knees, and looking up, I saw my father's sword buried hilt-deep in Delilah's chest. She smiled down at me, her blue eyes sparkling like sapphires.

I watched in horror as she slowly pulled the sword from her chest, the length of its metal turned black with her blood. How can she not be dead?!

Her voice dripped with tender malevolence. "Your sword cannot still my heart."

The black vines writhed and quivered as if alive, a red light pulsating from within its inky black tendrils. Corvo was trapped, but his sorcery hand emerged as if yanked free by an invisible force.

Delilah tilted her head in scrutiny of the Outsider's Mark––it glowed bright white and ghostly blue, burning right through his black leather wrappings. "Why, Corvo Attano," she said coyly. "How handsome you are for a man of your age, and how long have you hidden the Mark of the Outsider? I expect it's a wonderful story––with an even better ending now that I'm here."

She reached out and pulled my father's hand towards her with sorcery, a white, misty light stretching between them. In the next instant, the Outsider's Mark disappeared, snatched from his skin as if it never was.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

Stolen.

But how could she do that? The Void was the source of all magic in the world, and the Outsider controlled who was given the Mark. How could she wield Outsider-like power?

Delilah callously slapped her hand in the air with sorcery. The vines untangled in a blur, throwing my father towards the ground. I caught him by the shoulder, grunting beneath his weight. I cupped his cheek as he gasped in pain, his dark eyes meeting mine in disbelief. Above his head, I watched as Delilah flung my father's sword across the room. Lieutenant Ramsey caught it, glaring down at us.

I staggered to my feet and felt my father do the same. We stood surrounded by our enemies, our backs to each other.

That moment, for me, held echoes of my mother's assassination. I was back in that gazebo, watching helplessly as Daud viciously backhanded my mother across the face, then grabbed her by the neck, pushing her stumbling back. As he plunged his sword through her chest, she had cried out, "Corvo!"

But it was too late.

Once again I felt that absolute powerlessness as horrific events unfolded before my eyes. People died around me, their curdling screams piercing the air as they fell. Blood streaked across the floors. I saw the young girl. Her blue eyes were closed forever, her blonde curls tangled up in fallen roses. Her white maid's bonnet was drenched in blood.

I didn't even know her name.

I turned towards my father as I heard his breath catch. He was lunging forward, but Delilah cried out, "I will cast you in cold marble!"

Suddenly, my father's body was encased in stone, a foul gray poison that began at his feet then rose slithering to his head. He became a gruesome statue, desperately reaching for Delilah with outstretched arms, his face frozen in a grimace.

"No!" I screamed, plunging my hands towards her neck, but I was flung backwards by a cold windblast from Delilah's sorcery hand, slamming me to the ground on my back. I lost my breath, the wind knocked out of me. She knelt beside me, running cold fingers through my hair as my lungs convulsed, choking for air.

She smiled coldly. "Sweet girl. Over time, you'll come to love me. Perhaps, someday, you'll see me as the mother you lost."

Never, I swore, my eyes burning.

She rose and towered over me. "But until then you'll be kept out of trouble." She nodded at the Lieutenant.

Ramsey leaned over me, looking smug. "I'll secure the royal chambers. Then I'll bring Lady Emily to Coldridge Prison."

Delilah looked pleased. "The Duke was right to trust in you, Captain Ramsey. More rewards are in your future, I think." She turned away, lost from view.

I gasped, my breath returning in agonizing gulps of air. I was helpless on my back, the smell of blood overwhelming my senses, sickening me. Looking up at Ramsey, I saw the Duke's brother appear at his shoulder.

"My turn?" Lord Cosimo asked, leering down at me.

"I'll lock her upstairs for you," Ramsey said, "but her ring is mine like we planned."

His boot came down hard against my head, and all was lost to darkness.