Foundryside (The Founders Trilogy #1) - Robert Jackson Bennett Page 0,65

at her for a moment. Then he reached down and pulled at her ropes, confirming they were secure. Satisfied, he opened the door again and climbed out.

She listened to the crunch of his feet outside. He stopped somewhere behind the carriage.

said Clef.

Gregor walked around and looked through the back passenger window at her. “What’s this?” he asked, slightly outraged. He held it up—it looked like a big brass tack. “It’s scrived, on the bottom. What is this?”

“It’s like a construction scriving,” said Sancia. “It pulls at its twin, like a magnet.”

“And why,” he said, “would someone want to stick a construction scriving to my carriage?”

“Think for a second,” said Sancia. “They stick one half to your carriage. Then they tie another to a string. Then the string will act like a needle in a compass, always pointing to you like you’re true north.”

He stared at her. Then he looked around, peering at the streets behind him.

“Now you’re figuring it out,” asked Sancia. “See anyone?”

He was silent. Then he thrust his head back through the window. “How did you know it was there?” he demanded. “How did you know what it was?”

“Intuition,” she said.

“Nonsense,” he said. “Did you put it there?”

“When could I have done that? When I was sleeping on the roof, or tied up with your ropes? You need to let me go, Captain. They didn’t put it on there to track you—they put it on there to find me. They’re coming for me. They figured out you knew where I was, so they just followed you. And now you’re right here in it with me. Let me go, and maybe you can survive this.”

He was quiet for a while. It strangely pleased her—for so long it’d seemed like the captain had ice in his veins, so it was nice to see him sweat.

“Hm. No,” he said finally.

“What?” she said, surprised. “No?”

He dropped the button on the ground and stomped on it. “No.” He climbed back into the cockpit.

“Just…Just no?”

“Just no.” The carriage started off again.

“You…You goddamn fool!” she shouted at him. “You’re going to get us both killed!”

“You have damaged lives and careers through your actions,” said the captain. “Not just mine, but those of my officers. You harm those around you without reflection or compunction. I am obligated to amend that. And I will not permit any threat, any lie, or any attack to dissuade me from my path.”

Sancia stared at the ceiling, stunned. “You…You smug idiot!” she said. “What right do you have to speak such flowery words with the Dandolo name hanging over you?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Harming people, using people, damaging lives—that’s all the merchant houses ever do!” she said. “You people are every bit as dirty as I am!”

“That may be so,” said Dandolo with infuriating serenity. “This place has a tainted heart. That I’ve seen up-close. But I have also seen horrors out in the world, young lady. I learned to tame some of them. And I have come home to bring to this city the very thing I am delivering you to.”

“And what’s that?”

“Justice,” he said simply.

Her mouth fell open. “What? Are you serious?”

“As serious,” he said as the carriage turned, “as the grave.”

Sancia laughed, incredulous. “Oh, as simple as that? Just like dropping off a package? ‘Here, friends—have some justice!’ That’s the dumbest damned thing I ever heard!”

“All great things must start somewhere,” he said. “I started with the waterfront. Which you burned down. By capturing you, I can continue.”

She kept laughing. “You know, I almost believe you, you and your holy-crusade talk. But if you really are as noble and honest as you sound, Captain Dandolo, you won’t live long. If there’s one thing this city can’t tolerate, it’s honesty.”

“Let them try,” he said. “Many already have. I nearly died once. I can afford to do so agai—”

But he never finished his statement. Because then the carriage went careening out of control.

* * *

Gregor Dandolo had piloted scrived carriages many times before, so he was well acquainted with how to maneuver such a vehicle—but he had never piloted one that suddenly had only one front wheel.

And that seemed to have been what had happened, in the blink of an eye: at first they’d been rolling along—and then, suddenly the driver’s front wheel had simply exploded.

He shoved down the deceleration lever while also spinning the pilot wheel away from the damaged carriage wheel—but this proved unwise, because then the