Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,91

reason; if you were gifted with wings, gentlefriend, or simply turned to the map at the front of this tome, you might notice that the contours of the City of Bridges and Bones bear a remarkable similarity to those of a headless figure lying on its back.

Shield Arm is home to judiciary buildings and an astonishing number of cathedrals, and is the ingress point of Godsgrave’s vast aqueduct. The islands also house the headquarters of the Luminatii—the White Palazzo—along with two of Godsgrave’s ten war walkers. The iron giants loomed over the surrounding buildings, fingers curled into titanic fists.

Mia made her way to the great square at the Shield Arm’s heart, Piazza d’Vitrium. With a polite nod to the watchmen outside, she passed the White Palazzo, with its fluted granite columns and magnificent archways, a great statue of Aa looming out front. The Everseeing One was arrayed in battle garb, sword and shield raised. Remembering her encounter in the Hall of Pockets, Mia found herself averting her eyes from the Trinity emblazoned on his breastplate.

The girl stepped up to a neat taverna on the square’s edge. The sign above the door read “The Queen’s Bed.”7 After a slow reconnoiter around the building’s alleys, she stepped inside and found a booth in a shady corner. She ordered whiskey when a weary barmaid came by to ask her pleasure. And as she took a seat, the cathedrals all around began to strike twelve.

“… here we go…”

“Shhh.”

“… i told you i hate this place…”

Mia found the tolling pretty, truth be told. The notes weaving and crashing together, sleeping pigeons bursting from the bell towers and out into the winds. She watched the guard change outside the White Palazzo as the hour rang in, patrols of Luminatii in their white armor and red cloaks rolling in and out like waves. She thought of her father, arrayed in the same colors, standing handsome and tall as the sky. The men who smiled as he died. Downing her whiskey and ordering another.

And then, she settled in to wait.

Hours passed. The bells struck one, then two. She nursed her drink, listened to the quiet conversations of the few customers still awake at this hour. Wondering where the other acolytes might be, what secrets they might be learning. And as the bells finally struck three, the chimes above the doorway rang, and a figure in a tricorn hat and long leather greatcoat stepped inside. Her stomach flipped to see him, and a smile curled her lips. He glanced about the taverna and spied her in her corner. Ordering a mulled wine, he limped to her booth, walking stick clacking on the boards.

“Hello, little Crow,” Mercurio said.

The maid appeared with the wine, and Mia forced herself to sit still as the girl fussed about. When they were alone, she squeezed the old man’s hand, overjoyed to see him again.

“Shahiid,” she whispered.

“Your face looks … different.” He frowned. “Better.”

“Would that I could say the same for you,” she smiled.

“Still the same smartarse underneath the pretty, then.” Mercurio sniffed. “I won’t insult you by asking if you were followed. Though you picked a fine place for a clandestine meeting.”

She nodded to the White Palazzo across the square. “Chances of running into my fellow acolytes are small in this part of town.”

“I see they haven’t killed you yet.”

“Not for lack of trying.”

The old man smiled. “Spiderkiller, aye?”

Mia blinked. “You knew she’d do that to us? Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I didn’t know for certain. They change the testings every year. But initiates are sworn to secrecy, regardless, and if you acted like you knew the punch was coming, they’d start wondering why.” The old man shrugged. “Besides, I obviously taught you what you needed to know. You still being alive and all.”

Mia flapped her lips for a while, but found no retort. It was true what the old man said. He had given her the copy of Arkemical Truths, after all. Thank the Maw she’d actually spent more time reading it than most of the others in her crop …

“… Fair enough,” she finally muttered.

“So. What brings you back to the ’Grave? Aalea?”

“Aye.”

Mercurio nodded. “You’re lucky. They change the city every year. You can’t hurl a rock without hitting a gossip in Godsgrave. My year, Old Shahiid Thelonius sent us to bloody Farrow. Imagine grubbing for tidbits among a pack of Dweymeri fisherwives…”

“I’ve never been all that grand at learning secrets.”

“Shouldn’t you be out practicing, then?”

“I thought you might loan me one