Bared Blade (18 page)

“I don’t understand.…”

I chuckled. “I know Issa pretty well, and that includes knowing which rocks to look under. By scaring him into hiding, I’m actually cutting down the number of places I have to look. I’d say it’s had enough time to take effect. So, let’s go turn over some rocks.”

B
ecause
of my newfound notoriety we kept to the chimney forest as we made our way across the city, alternately walking and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. We had to take a slightly different route than I would have alone since VoS had no Shade to sail-jump her across the broad canyons made by the bigger thoroughfares. But there was an easy enough solution to that, as generations of thatchcutters and other shadowtraders had crafted plank or pole bridges that could quickly be laid in place across all but the largest of streets.

We saw quite a few other chimney runners along the way, since it was a cloudy night, and perfect for a quick bit of second-story work or clandestine delivery service. We pretended not to see them, of course, and they extended us the same courtesy. So no one got hurt. The lack of a moon also could have provided hunting opportunities for the odd urban ghoul or nightghast that had crept in from the countryside, but we saw none of the restless dead in our journeys.

We finally caught up to Fivegoats at a warehouse he used to store particularly hot items while he waited for them to
cool down enough to resell. It was a big old stone building on the Royal Docks side of the harbor that had been broken up into numerous smaller stalls that were rented out individually. Regular watch patrols went past at least once an hour, and the only two entrances had attendants who wouldn’t let you in unless you showed them your key.

“I don’t get it,” Stel said to me. “What’s a two-kip fence doing in a place that’s so upmarket?”

I grinned in the darkness. She was picking up the argot. Fivegoats had just passed by below us on his way into the warehouse—he was easily identifiable even at that distance because of the magelights at the entrance. He’d been carrying three skins and a case that probably held a couple of days’ worth of cold trail rations. He was clearly planning on bedding down in his tuckaside while he waited for the Howlers to catch up with me.

I leaned in close to Stel’s ear—Vala was about twenty feet behind us, crouched in the shadow of one of the building’s light wells. “It’s much safer storage than anything up by Smuggler’s Rest and the free docks. The Stingers pretty much leave it alone investigationwise, because several important nobles have stalls that they don’t want anyone official looking in on. That’s why a lot of the smarter night marketeers and smugglers keep stalls here if they can afford the rent. Put on a nice set of clothes and pack your coals in a fancy box and the various minions of the king pay you no mind.”

“Coals?” asked VoS.

“Stolen goods so hot they’ll burn you if you’re not careful,” interjected Triss.

“Thanks. Why here, though? If this place is really so high pocket he’s got to be running some serious risks by camping out here. That can’t be something they normally allow.”

I smiled again. “It’s not, and the bribes are probably murder. But with the Howlers looking to nail my skin to a tree, staying out of my way is going to be worth a touch of silver—I’m sure Fivegoats thought he’d be safe from having
me show up here. He keeps this place quiet enough that I’m probably the only one of his regular runners that knows it even exists.

“And honestly, if I were only what I pretend to be, I
wouldn’t
know about it. On top of that he probably figures that if I did know to look here, I’m too hot to risk showing my face in a neighborhood this well patrolled. Now, let’s go show him just how wrong he is.”

With Stel trailing behind, we slipped back toward the light well where we’d left Vala. The warehouse roof was plenty secure enough to fend off your average thatchcutter or ghoul. It was part of a line of buildings that stood a good story and a half above the surroundings, with twenty feet of empty air between them and their nearest neighbors. The low wall that topped the complex had enough jagged-edged potsherds affixed to it to cut any grappled line.

But they hadn’t stopped there. The light wells, which provided a cheap source of illumination as well as much needed ventilation, were covered over with a fine metal mesh that had alarm glyphs threaded through it. They were also narrow and topped with low hanging rain guards, making it just about impossible to get down one. It was a really good system, as far as it went. But it hadn’t been designed to keep out a Blade, or any of the other high-end mages for that matter.

That kind of security simply wasn’t cost effective for anything short of the layered protection that surrounded kings and great nobles. Even that could be circumvented with the right preparation and a little luck, which is why they’d started calling me “Kingslayer.”

I asked Triss to stretch himself out along the edge of one of my swords. As he did so, he opened a door in his soul and became a blade-thin gate into the everdark, the dimension from whence his kind had originally come. With Stel leaning hard on the bricks so that it wouldn’t sag and bind the back of my sword, cutting the light well free of the roof took scant minutes. Then we were able to lay the whole thing neatly down, leaving us a nice-sized hole through which to
make our entrance. If we’d tried it during the day, the added light would have given us away, but here again the dark and clouds worked in our favor.

Looking down through the hole, we could see a narrow aisle four floors in height with walkways running along the sides to allow access to the storage stalls. Dim magelights provided just enough light for the owners and staff to find their way around at night. I knew from an earlier exploration of the facility that the storerooms ranged from closet sized on the top tier up to a space big enough to park a good-sized coach down on the bottom. Fivegoats had a windowless third-level stall maybe four feet by ten on another aisle.

I lowered myself through upside down and hung by my knees while I extended my arms so that Triss could use them to anchor the great shadow wings he now shaped from his own substance. A guard patrol was passing by on the bottom floor, but they didn’t look up and wouldn’t have seen much of anything if they had, between Triss’s shadow and the starless sky above. When I let go, we flipped over and glided neatly down to the top-level walkway.

VoS tossed me the weighted silk line we’d used to get them onto the roof in the first place. I fastened my end to a rail, while the Dyad anchored hers to the roof with a spell. Then she slid down to join me—first Vala, then Stel. A moment later, the magic faded and the rope dropped free of the light well and I stowed it away in my trick bag.

Fivegoats had stuffed a bit of cloth across the bottom of his door to prevent light from leaking out, but he’d missed the vent along the roofline. He’d chosen to rent a bottom-end Durkoth lock from the warehouse owners. It would have served him well enough against the shadow-jack I was supposed to be, but with Triss able to flow into the keyhole and shape himself into the perfect skeleton key, it didn’t even slow us down. As I unlocked the door and pulled it open, Stel leaped through with fighting rods drawn.

By the time Triss had gone back to playing the shadow and I followed her through a moment later, Stel had Fivegoats pinned to the floor with one iron-tipped rod pressed firmly
into the hollow of his throat. Behind me, Vala closed the door and took up a position outside, where she could watch for anyone coming our way.

“Hello, Issa,” I said in the sweetest voice I could muster. “Did you know that I’ve been looking for you all over town?”

Fivegoats was not a pretty man, short and stout, with a distinct penchant for fatty kebabs that left him with a permanent grease stain in his ratty little beard. He looked even worse than usual now with sweat popping up along his hairline in big oily beads.

“Aral, my friend,” he said, his voice hoarse from the pressure Stel was exerting on his throat, “it’s so good to see you looking so well. And such a surprise to find you here at my little tuckaside.”

“Looks more like a fallback to me.” I poked at one of the skins with my toe. “And like you were planning on staying here for a while. Perhaps there was someone you didn’t want to see?”

Fivegoats was sweating more and more by the second. “Of course not. I was just having a small libation and letting it get a little darker before I hauled a couple of rarer items back to my shop.”

“Really?” I lifted the lid on what I had taken for trail rations earlier. It was full of oiled paper packages of salted meats and dried fruit. “You don’t say. Because, if someone was to ask me about my good friend Issa Fivegoats—who just happens to owe me his miserable skin—I’d have to say it looked like he was trying to slither out from under one of his debts. That he was hoping to stay out of someone’s way until that someone’s head went up over the traitor’s gate. That’s what I’d say.”

Fivegoats closed his eyes for a moment. “Please don’t hurt me, Aral. It’s just that I’m not a brave man and you’re not long for this world, and I really, really don’t want to leave it with you. You
know
me. I’m a coward. Right now it’s dangerous to even be seen near you, much less give you any help. I’m happy to pay my debts. I just don’t want to die for
them, and it’s not only the Howlers after your hide. There are Others looking for you, too, though they’re very tippy-toe about it.”

“You don’t say.…” That was news to me.

Fivegoats lowered his voice. “Yeah, I don’t know what you did to piss off the Others, but I hear that there’s a small fortune available for anyone who drops a whisper on you to any Durkoth in the city before the Howlers can get their teeth in you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it, Issa? I think we can deal. You want to pay your debts and you don’t want to die. I want a little of what you owe me, and I don’t want to kill you. I’m no black jack and I’d rather not start building that reputation by killing an old friend. So, talk to me. Where’d you hear about these Others?”

“It’s not up on any posters, if that’s what you mean. But it’s definitely starting to get around the night markets. Some Durkoth that calls himself Chetha or Karath or something like that’s been showing that poster around and asking about you real quietlike. Says he wants you alive and unhurt.”

“Qethar?” I said, emphasizing the throaty “hch” sound at the beginning of the name.

“Could be, yeah. Rumor says people that piss him off get buried, and he’s not real picky about killing ’em first. Fucking scary, them Others.”

That was
very
interesting. Especially the bit about wanting to keep me away from the Howlers. I wondered what he had learned since our last encounter that had him so eager to find me again.

“Good stuff, Issa. A real solid start.” I waved a finger at Stel and she removed the rod from Fivegoats’ throat and the boot from his chest, moving back to lean against the door. “Now tell me something else I want to hear. You’re getting real close to walking away with all your bones intact.”

Wisely, he chose not to move, remaining on his back. “What else do you want to know, Aral, my old friend?”

I gave him a hard look and he flinched and held up his hands between us. “All right, all right. Maybe I’ve heard a
few things about the questions you’ve been asking on the street. I don’t know where you can find this girl you’re looking for. I also don’t know anything useful about a”—he paused—“‘very valuable bit of Durkoth sparkle that she might be trying to hawk.’ Though I
have
heard she’s still trying to find a buyer, or was three days ago.”

There went my theory that Reyna was Fei’s corpse. At least if Issa’s information was good.
“Really?”

I tried not to let any of what I was thinking show in my face, but Issa flinched at something he saw there anyway. “No, Aral, it’s true. That’s absolutely all I know. What I might know is who
would
know something. I don’t deal with the really big stuff, and Other artifacts are a complete mystery to me. You know that if you know me at all. But I do hear things. If you wanted to move an item like that quietly—and I
would
have heard if someone tried to auction something that hot on the open market—you’d go to Miriyan Zheng in Goldsmith’s Lane in the Highside. She’s the expert, talk to her.”

“I hate to have to do this—” I began, bending down to reach for his collar.

“Wait, wait.” Fivegoats held up his hands again. “I told you the truth.”

“Maybe. But you know I can’t go anywhere near Highside with the Howlers looking for me. I might just as well saunter up the road a piece from there and hand myself in at the palace. Tell me something I can
use
, Issa. I promise it won’t get back to anyone who’d take it the wrong way.”

“All right, all right. Miriyan does most of her work out of the Highside place—she’s a very fancy bit of business. But if you want to move cinders in Tien you’ve got to have a toe in dockside. I can put you on to her roost in Smuggler’s Rest. It’s run by a guy named Coalshovel Shen, and
he’s
got a little caras problem that you could maybe use to pry a bit of news loose.”