Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (19 page)

Oh,
and the throw on the bed? Definitely Rheskilian sable.

When
I woke up, I knew it was far later than I wanted it to be,
though the extra sleep was much needed and worth it.
A glance out the window confirmed the late hour.

I
planned to be gone before Tam returned. I had errands of my own to run. While I
couldn’t march myself to the goblin embassy and demand that Sarad Nukpana
explain himself, I could do something almost as productive and a lot less
dangerous. I could ask Ocnus Rancil, and I wouldn’t ask nicely.

Ocnus
Rancil may not be the most gifted goblin sorcerer in Mermeia, but pound for
pound, he was the sneakiest. Nothing happened in the Goblin District that Ocnus
didn’t have his fingers in one way or another. Everyone knew that, including
the Mal’Salin family. As a result, Ocnus was what you might call the royal
family’s chief weasel about town. And Ocnus’s presence at Tarsilia’s door with
several Khrynsani shamans in tow told me that his weasel duties had expanded to
include tour guide. Ocnus needed to understand that my home wasn’t a stop for
visiting tourists; I needed to understand what Sarad Nukpana wanted with me.
Ocnus might not know everything, but I was sure he knew something. I was also
sure Ocnus and I could reach an agreement.

But I
wasn’t counting on knives or threats to get the results I wanted. I knew a
curse and I’d use it if necessary. Generally I stayed away from curses. They
had a tendency to backfire, aside from being just plain mean. I had made an
exception for this little beauty. I had used it only once, and it had been more
than effective. Ocnus had been on the receiving end that time, too. It was
repugnant, even by his standards. I had put a three-day time limit on it—fire
fleas reproduced after four days. I’m not completely without compassion, even
when it came to Ocnus.

I
don’t think he wanted a repeat infestation.

It
didn’t take long for me to get dressed and armed. I knew where Ocnus spent most
of his days. It was in the Goblin District, in a section I normally avoided,
but avoidance wasn’t an option if I wanted to talk to Ocnus.

Tam’s
staff had arrived to set up for the night’s clientele. A few didn’t recognize
me; most did. There were more than a few surprised looks and knowing smiles
when I stepped out of Tam’s office. They knew the boss’s office wasn’t the only
thing behind that door. After the bath, meal, and nap I’d had, I felt wonderful
and couldn’t care less what anyone thought.

“Mistress
Raine.”

It
was Kell. I walked over to the bar.

“Was
the lunch to your liking?”

“It
was wonderful. Just what the doctor ordered.”

He
nodded, pleased. No signs of blushing. I guess it helped that I was wearing
clothes.

“This
arrived for you while you were asleep.” He reached down behind the bar and
handed me a sealed envelope. “Since the boss had said you weren’t to be
disturbed, I waited.”

I
looked at the seal. It was plain and the paper wasn’t top quality. Definitely
not from Markus.

“Who
delivered it?”

“Lorcan
took it at the door,” Kell said. “But I got a look at the messenger.”

“Goblin?”

He
shook his head. “Human.”

I did
a quick scan to check for any unpleasant surprises. Normally a wax seal was
just a seal, and breaking it just opened a letter. Sometimes it opened a nasty
spell. Better safe than struck. It felt clean, so I opened it.

What
a coincidence. Ocnus wanted to talk to me, too. I’ll bet he did. Probably had a
nice, cozy little chat planned. Just the two of us—with a dozen or so of his
new Khrynsani best friends. Though where he wanted to meet was surprising. Dock
Street at the north end of the Smuggler’s Cut Canal. That was on the waterfront
in the Elven District, a long way from Ocnus’s usual haunts. The Ruins was at
the north end of Dock Street. I didn’t like to be anywhere near The Ruins this
close to dark, but it beat the hell out of the Goblin District any time.

It
was Ocnus’s chosen topic of discussion that interested me most. He claimed to
know why Sarad Nukpana wanted me and the amulet. But the last line of his note
baited the hook and I couldn’t help but bite.

And
the location of the artifact he plans to use you and the amulet to find for
him.

I
could smell the setup from here. For Ocnus, information was currency.
Apparently I didn’t have any information he wanted in exchange, because he was
asking for fifty gold tenari.

He
wanted to meet at seven bells. I knew that when Ocnus was anywhere near the
Elven District waterfront, he had an early dinner at the Flowing Tide, and he
always dined alone. Usually because no one else wanted to dine with Ocnus. It
was just before six. If I hurried, I could keep him company.

I
tucked the letter in my belt. “Tell Tam I went out for dessert.”

The
sun had just dipped below the horizon, bathing the lagoon in golden light. It
was my favorite time of day. Too bad I didn’t have the time to enjoy it. I
wanted a quiet night, with more than a few hours of sleep. Wanting it didn’t
mean it was going to happen, but I could hope. After talking to Ocnus, I could
always come back and take another bath—especially since after talking to Ocnus,
I’d want to.

A
pair of city employees leisurely made their way down the bank of the Smuggler’s
Cut Canal, lighting streetlamps. It was the dinner hour, and people were
hurrying home to the evening meal. I turned the corner at Dock Street just in
time to see Piaras forced into an alley by a pair of cloaked figures. Part of
me wondered what Piaras was doing anywhere near The Ruins at dusk. The other
part knew it wasn’t his idea. The young spellsinger looked afraid. I looked
down Dock Street in both directions. The lamplighters had vanished and there
wasn’t a city watcher to be seen. Figures. Just when I could have used some
backup.

I had
a pair of blades in my hands and a spell on my lips, and I was familiar with
the alley Piaras had been shoved into. Unlike many alleys in Mermeia, this one
had two exits. The trick would be to get to the closest exit first. Maneuverable
space in any street near The Ruins was at a minimum. Not the safest place to
cross swords with anything. Halfway down the block was another alley that ran
parallel. An opening between a pair of buildings connected the two. In addition
to not going in blind, it might earn me the element of surprise. Surprise may
not always be necessary, but I’ve found it’s a good thing to have. Sometimes
it’s the only thing you can get.

I ran
as silently down the alley as I could, checked around the corner and proceeded
to the end. I stopped and listened. It was virtually dark between the buildings
and completely silent. Great. My hackles went up along with my suspicions.
There should be some kind of noise. Piaras may be young and inexperienced, but
he wouldn’t go without a fight. I flexed my fingers on the grips of my short
swords to ease the tension. Nothing left but to take a look.

Piaras
and his captors were standing where I could clearly see them. They were facing
the alley, obviously waiting for me. Damn. Piaras had given them a fight, but
had come out on the losing side. There was a line of blood from one side of his
mouth, and the side of his face showed signs of a fist-sized bruise. One of his
captors was big, cloaked, hooded, and had one leather-covered arm firmly around
Piaras’s throat, choking off all sound and most of the air. His other hand held
a long, slender blade pressed under Piaras’s third rib, just below the heart.
His hands were bare—and gray.

The
goblin didn’t move and neither did I.

Two
more goblins emerged from the shadows. Their elegant clothing and leather armor
all but blended in with the increasing dark. Street thugs they weren’t. I knew
one of them: Rahimat, the spellsinger from Tam’s nightclub. He stopped to stand
beside Piaras, a slender stiletto at the ready. Whether Tam had anything to do
with this remained to be seen, but if I got out of this alive, Tam had some
explaining to do—and he’d better talk fast, before he couldn’t talk at all.

A
slight figure lurked on the edges of the shadows. I couldn’t see his face, but
I didn’t need to.

“You
skipped dessert,” I told Ocnus.

“Business
comes first. I can always have dessert later.” He turned to the goblin holding
Piaras captive. “I kept my end of the bargain.”

The
hooded goblin nodded to Rahimat, and the spellsinger distastefully tossed a
pouch of coins at Ocnus’s feet. Unless my Benares ears deceived me, it sounded
suspiciously like fifty gold tenari. The pouch vanished into the folds of
Ocnus’s robes almost before it hit the ground.

The
little goblin’s smile was full of fang. “It’s always a pleasure to do business
with you, Mistress Benares.” Then he scurried out of the alley.

Other
goblins even better armed started coming out of the woodwork. Under normal
circumstances I would have run, but normal circumstances didn’t have Piaras
with me and at the mercy of goblins who carried themselves and their weapons
with the confidence of professional killers.

The
hood of the goblin who held Piaras captive slipped back, exposing the high
cheekbones and handsome, angled features of old-blood nobility. A trio of
goblins approached me from behind and began relieving me of my weapons. They
managed to find everything, and I had no choice but to let them. I looked at
Piaras, willing him to a calmness I didn’t feel. His dark eyes reflected equal
measures of pain, fear and helpless rage. The leader stared unblinking at me,
his dark eyes hard and flat. Piaras was no more to him than a means to an end.

When
I was completely unarmed, he spoke. His voice was calm and measured, and he
expected nothing less than my full cooperation.

“You
will come with us, or the boy will die.”

There
were two types of ground in The Ruins—that which was
solid, and that which only looked that way. I hoped
our captors knew the difference.

Few
remembered what The Ruins’ real name was. It had once been the most exclusive
address in Mermeia—until about a hundred years ago, when a personal vendetta
between a pair of retired Conclave mages got out of hand. It had been a lush
island park in the middle of the city, home to only the most wealthy. When
creatures out of a nightmare began haunting the dead mages’ estates, Mermeia’s
social elite decided to take their high living elsewhere. Grand villas and
sprawling gardens fell into piles of stone and swamp as the trees and lagoon
reclaimed their own. Ruins were all that remained of the once beautiful
mansions, and the name had stuck.

Since
then, The Ruins had become a favorite haunt of criminal gangs and rogue
sorcerers looking for a hiding place and privacy for their work and
experiments. The descendants of a few of those magical experiments gone awry
still roamed The Ruins’ depths. In the course of my work, I’d seen a few of
them firsthand, and had secondhand knowledge of others. I was in no hurry to
repeat either experience.

Several
unfortunate incidents had forced the city’s leaders to take action. A high,
iron fence topped with spikes was erected to keep The Ruins’ inhabitants in,
and the general populace of Mermeia out. Protecting the stupid from themselves
hadn’t been a popular use for taxes. Many citizens, myself included, felt that
if someone wasn’t bright enough not to go wandering into The Ruins, they had
every right to cut themselves from the herd, and we shouldn’t go wasting
taxpayer coin trying to stop them.

A
walk through The Ruins was bad enough without being bound, blindfolded, and led
by armed goblins. I had been here before, though it wasn’t my first choice then
and it certainly wasn’t where I wanted to be now. I couldn’t see a thing either
through or underneath the blindfold, but my other senses were telling me that
things hadn’t improved any since my last visit.

Daytime
in The Ruins was generally quiet, as most of the things that made their home
there needed the dark in order to venture out. As soon as the sun set, those
things began to wake up—hungry things whose first order of business was to find
food. Unfortunately, Piaras and I qualified as food. Muffled shrieks and calls
erupted from nearby. A guttural moan materialized from above us, only to be
abruptly silenced. I wasn’t sure which was worse, whatever the goblins had
planned for us, or being an evening snack for what was now growling to my
immediate right.

Escaping
wasn’t an option I considered for very long. Even if we could get away, it was
dark, we were blindfolded, our hands were securely bound behind our backs, but
most importantly, I knew what was out there. When it came to The Ruins, I’d
consider our captors the lesser of two evils until they proved otherwise.

Piaras
was being herded by a second group of goblins on the trail behind us. They
didn’t want me talking to him. That became obvious to me the moment I tried. My
jaw still ached from where a goblin fist had abruptly made its acquaintance.
Apparently a punch hurts a lot more if you don’t have the advantage of seeing
it coming.