The Kraken King, Part 7 Read Free Page A

quietly as it rose on level with the docking platform, the low rumble echoed and amplified through the long coral courtyard that ran through the heart of their residence like a tunnel. She wasn’t surprised to see Cooper already waiting at the edge of the terrace, with the sides of his jacket tucked behind his holsters. They hadn’t expected visitors. But when Mara joined Cooper, whatever she said had him covering up his weapons.
    Did she know whose airship it was?
    Zenobia glanced at the vessel again. Narrow flags fluttered on long posts near the bow, but the writing on them meant nothing to her. An emblem of leaves and a blossom marked both the flags and the balloon.
    Across the courtyard, one of the new attendants they’d hired in the Red City emerged from a chamber carrying a basket. She looked toward the western terrace. Her eyes widened and her entire body seemed to stutter to a stop before she dropped into a crouch, her head bowed.
    Oh, dear Lord. Zenobia didn’t need Helene’s book to tell her what the attendant’s reaction meant. Perhaps it was best not to wait, after all, but to go out and meet this person.
    A woman. She appeared at the rail as a gangway extended from the side of the red airship to the terrace. Zenobia abruptly halted.
    This was someone important. It was also someone dangerous.
    Her midnight blue robes possessed more layers and were more complicated than Zenobia’s simple dress, but didn’t conceal the sword hanging at her side. The pale flowers printed on the heavy silk echoed her snowy sash and the white plague mask that covered her mouth and nose, leaving her eyes exposed. An ivory headdress shaped like a fan secured her smooth halo of black hair. She strode boldly down the gangway, her razor-edged gaze touching Mara and Cooper before finding Zenobia.
    Behind her came a dozen soldiers. Male and female, all in unrelieved blue, with iron-scaled cuirasses protecting their chests. Unlike the first woman’s, their masks hid their eyes behind flat black lenses.
    Pulse pounding, Zenobia looked to Mara, hoping to find some indication of what to do. The mercenary hadn’t touched her guns and was greeting the woman. Probably best that Zenobia did, too.
    Mara glanced to her as Zenobia joined them, the wind from the airship’s propellers blowing into her face. In a voice more formal than Zenobia had ever heard from the mercenary, Mara said, “Madame Fox, we have been honored by a visit from Lady Nagamochi. She is captain of the imperial guard.”
    The empress’s guard, a woman with steely eyes, wiry hands, and perfume like sun-warmed cherries. Dear God. “Please tell her she is most welcome.”
    The airship’s engines quieted halfway through Zenobia’s statement, each overloud word echoing through the courtyard.
    Lady Nagamochi inclined her head. “I beg that you forgive our intrusion,” she replied, and her French had less of an accent than Zenobia’s did.
    With hot cheeks, Zenobia corrected herself and spoke directly to the woman, instead. “Just because it is unexpected does not mean it is an intrusion. You are most welcome here, though I’ll admit I can hardly account for this compliment.”
    â€œThey have come to replace the Empress’s Eyes,” Mara told her softly.
    â€œAh,” Zenobia replied, because there was nothing else to say. Heart suddenly heavy, she nodded. “Of course.”
    Lady Nagamochi lifted her hand and flicked her fingers forward. In two lines, the soldiers behind her surged ahead, swiftly filing past their small group and into the courtyard. One broke away from his row, heading for the clockwork rooster perched near the terrace’s balustrade. Another soldier took a device from its position at the head of the courtyard.
    Another entered the first personal chamber—and another, the chamber Zenobia shared with Ariq.
    â€œOh, but—”
There are none in there,
she