Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (9 page)

Nigel’s
house crawling with goblins and Simon Stocken’s warehouse burning to the ground
must have been public knowledge by now, but not the fact that I was involved.
Or maybe Garadin just assumed I was involved. Neither assumption was good or
very flattering.

“Bad
news must travel fast,” was all I said.

“Tarsilia
sent Piaras over to the Mad Piper to tell me you might be in trouble.”

I
stepped a little farther into the light. Garadin and Piaras took in my
blood-spattered clothes.

“I
see she was right,” my godfather said. “Any of that yours?”

“No.
Why did she think I was in trouble?”

Piaras
spoke. “Ocnus Rancil and two other goblins tried to break into your rooms. Then
more goblins showed up. That’s when Grandma sent me to find Garadin.”

Damn.

“And
considering the hour and circumstances, I didn’t want to send Piaras home once
he found me,” Garadin added.

Piaras
took off his cloak and gave me a halfhearted smile. “He and Grandma are
plotting to protect me again.”

“There’s
nothing wrong with having someone watch your back,” I told him. “Phaelan was
there tonight to watch mine. Who’s watching Tarsilia’s?” I asked Garadin.

“Parry
and Alix were with me over at the Piper. They went to Tarsilia’s, and I came
back here with Piaras. If you had stepped in anything deep, I knew you’d come
here first.”

Sometimes
it’s nice to be predictable. I relaxed a little. Alixine Toril was my best
friend, a sorceress, and one of the finest robe designers in the Sorcerers
District. Parry Arne was her sometime lover, a Conclave emissary, and when it
came to creative magical retaliation, he had pretty much written the book. If a
fight got nasty, the big Myloran mage was good to have by your side. Tarsilia
was in good hands. Ocnus and the other goblins were not.

“Going
directly home didn’t seem like the best idea,” I told him, “though I never
meant to put goblins on Tarsilia’s doorstep. Were Ocnus’s friends shamans or
warriors?”

“Shamans,”
Garadin said. “Khrynsani.”

Damn
again.

He
made himself comfortable in his favorite chair in the far corner, which oddly
enough was always paper free, and lit a pipe. “And they seemed determined to
get into your rooms. Apparently it was all over rather quickly. Alix just met
us down the block to let us know Tarsilia had the situation well in hand by the
time they arrived. Tarsilia discouraged the goblins from trying to get in your
rooms, and Alix and Parry will see to it they don’t feel welcome in the
neighborhood. Alix said she and Parry will stay the night to make sure the
shamans don’t stage a repeat performance.”

“What
about Ocnus?” I asked.

Ocnus
Rancil was a goblin sorcerer of marginal ability and maximum aggravation. He
hadn’t crossed my path for several weeks now. Any illegal, immoral, or just
plain repugnant act committed in Mermeia usually had Ocnus’s fingerprints on it
somewhere. As a result, business had brought us together over the years. The
results had yet to be fatal, though I had been sorely tempted on more than one
occasion. I wondered if Ocnus knew about the gathering at Stocken’s this
evening and just hadn’t managed to make the party. Considering his presence at
my door this evening, that was a possibility I’d have to look into.

The
smile that spread across Piaras’s face reached his large, brown eyes. It was
open, welcoming, and like Piaras himself, completely without guile. “Ocnus
wasn’t all that much trouble. Grandma let me practice on him before she sent me
after Garadin.”

I
answered with a grin of my own. Like myself, Tarsilia believed in the
importance of practice. And if Piaras had needed help, she was more than able
to back him up. “What did you use?” I asked.

The
tips of Piaras’s pointed ears were visible through his curls. They blushed
pink. “An illusion song Garadin taught me last week. I thought it’d be fun to
make Ocnus think there were a pair of werehounds guarding your door.”

“And?”

Piaras’s
smile broadened into a boyish grin. “Ocnus thought they were so real he
conjured a swamp cat to lure them away. You could see through his cat, but
other than that, it wasn’t half-bad.”

“What
did you have the hounds do?”

“What
comes naturally. They ate the cat. That’s when Ocnus ran.”

“I
hate that I missed it.”

Garadin
nodded in satisfaction. “You just can’t beat the classics.”

My
godfather sported a tiny smile for my benefit. I knew what it meant. The
spellsong Piaras had used was one of the most advanced, and summoning realistic
images of something as complex as werehounds took a level of talent that only
came from years of hard work and training. Piaras could do it now. Easily. His
singing voice was surprisingly deep, vibrant, filled with quiet power and
impossible to ignore. He had a prodigious, natural gift. And after years of
hard work and training with the right voice master, who knew what he could
accomplish. The image of the Conclave Guardian instantly sprang to mind. I
pushed my thoughts away from that path. That wasn’t the kind of power I ever
wanted to see Piaras wield.

“After
Grandma sensed the goblins hiding behind Maira’s bakery, she sent me after
Garadin,” Piaras was saying. “I wanted to stay and help, but she insisted.”

“Tarsilia
doesn’t doubt your abilities,” Garadin said, “and neither do I, but she needed
to warn Raine. And Khrynsani shamans are a whole different beast than Ocnus.”
He looked at me, and his bright blue eyes narrowed. “Care to tell me the reason
for your sudden surge in popularity?”

“I
have no idea what Ocnus was doing there, but I know what the goblins were
after. Have you heard what happened at Nigel Nicabar’s place?”

Garadin
slowly drew on his pipe, blue puffs rising toward the beamed ceiling. “We
heard. Watchers coming off duty stopped at the Piper for a pint. Sounded like
quite a fight.”

“It
was.”

“You
were there.” He didn’t ask it as a question, and I didn’t take it as one.

“Phaelan
and I dropped by.”

A
corner of his lips quirked upward. “And there stands the source of the
trouble?”

“No,
that would be Quentin.” I hesitated before continuing. I felt more than a
little uncomfortable talking about Quentin’s sideline employment around Piaras.
He had met Quentin, so I’m sure it wouldn’t come as any great shock, but I
couldn’t help feeling like I was somehow tainting the innocent. “He was hired
to acquire something from Nigel.”

“You
mean steal,” Piaras said point blank.

Garadin
likewise ignored my effort to tiptoe around the subject. “I take it he was
successful?”

“Unfortunately,
yes. Equally unfortunate is that a few people are disappointed they didn’t get
to it first.”

I
paused before continuing. I came to see Garadin to get his advice. That was
going to be next to impossible with Piaras in the room. Quentin’s daily
struggle with morality might not be the best topic of discussion around an
impressionable elven teenager, but given the proper disclaimers, it was
acceptable. But Khrynsani shamans and Conclave Guardians, along with the death,
dismemberment and general mayhem that had made up my evening was another
matter. I didn’t want Piaras hearing any of it. Knowing what had happened
tonight could endanger him, not to mention I’d rather he didn’t know the finer
details of what I did for a living. To someone of Piaras’s age and gender, my
job could be perceived as glamorous. It was anything but. Though considering
what had just happened a few blocks away at Tarsilia’s, having Piaras wait
outside while I talked to Garadin wasn’t a viable option. My breath came out in
a sigh.

“I
don’t suppose you’d be willing to stand in the corner with your fingers in your
ears?” I was only half joking.

Piaras’s
expression spoke volumes on his feelings about that idea. “Not really.”

“He’s
already heard most of it at the Mad Piper,” Garadin said, making it clear he
knew my dilemma and just wanted me to get on with it.

“No,
he hasn’t.”

Garadin
stopped midpuff. “That bad?”

“Let’s
just say the fewer people who know about it, the better.”

Piaras
was slouching against the door jam, well on his way to a good sulk. To his
credit, he didn’t do it often. I couldn’t really blame him. I did ask him to
stand in a corner. He knew I didn’t mean it literally, but my meaning was clear
enough. I didn’t think he was old enough to hear what had happened tonight. And
he wasn’t. Truth be told,
I
wasn’t old enough. The safest thing for
Piaras was complete and blissful ignorance. If protecting Piaras meant he had
to suffer the indignity of actually standing in a corner, so be it.

“I’m
sorry, Piaras. But it’s not safe for you to hear any more of this.” Or be
anywhere near me right now, my maternal instinct chimed in.

“I
wouldn’t tell anyone,” he said.

“I
know you wouldn’t. I trust you. But trust isn’t the issue here. Your safety is.
You can’t tell what you don’t know.”

A
confused look passed over his face. “I don’t understand.”

I
hesitated. Tact was called for here, and I didn’t have any. “I’m not worried
about you talking to your friends. I’m worried about those involved in this.
They would want to know what was said here. If they knew you were here, they
would ask you.” I paused. “They wouldn’t ask nicely.”

The
young elf’s expression didn’t change, but his dark eyes widened slightly. I
think he got the idea.

“How
long do you want me to stay in the corner?” he asked.

I
smiled slightly. “Not long.”

“You
don’t have to stand in the corner,” Garadin told him. “And I can fix it so you
don’t have to stick your fingers in your ears.” He took one last puff, then set
his pipe aside. “Fingers don’t work, anyway. You don’t even have to face the
wall, just don’t try to read our lips.”

“I
promise.”

Garadin
nodded. “Good enough.”

I
pulled a chair over to where Garadin was sitting, and he muttered a brief
shielding spell, confining our voices to that small area. It meant neither one
of us could get up and move around, but I had done more than enough moving for
one night. Piaras found a book and settled himself cross-legged by the fire,
his profile to us. Occasionally, he would steal a quick glance. The curiosity
of youth is a powerful thing.

I
told Garadin the whole story, in as short a form as possible without omitting
anything that might be important—which meant I told him everything.
Fortunately, it didn’t take as long as I thought. I had lived it once, and that
was quite enough. When I’d finished, Garadin sat quietly for a few moments. He
was absorbing and sorting, as I liked to think of it. I wasn’t about to disturb
him. He’d talk when he was ready.

“From
your description, the elven Guardian and spellsinger would be Mychael
Eiliesor.”

I
knew I’d come to the right place. “You know him?”

“I
know of him. He was appointed paladin of the Guardians after I left.”

I sat
in stunned silence. I had just kicked the commander of the Conclave Guardians
in the balls.

“What
is it?” Garadin asked.

I
told him.

Garadin
laughed until tears were streaming down his face and he couldn’t breathe.
Piaras couldn’t hear a thing, but the shield couldn’t keep him from knowing
that his teacher found something hysterical—at my expense. He grinned.

I
didn’t share their opinion. “It’s not funny!” I said it out loud for Garadin,
and towards Piaras so he could read my lips. It just made it worse.

“I’m
sorry,” Garadin sputtered.

I
crossed my arms and sat ramrod straight against the back of the chair. “You
don’t sound sorry.”

“I
am.” He snorted one last time, and wiped his eyes. “Really.”

I sat
up even straighter, gathering what little shreds of dignity I had left. “Well,
what do you know about him?”

“Nothing
bad. He was personally appointed by the Archmagus. Justinius Valerian has a
knack for hiring good people, plus he’s always wanted to clean house. Putting
Mychael Eiliesor in as paladin sounded like a good start. He’s one of the best
spellsingers on Mid, and a top-notch healer. Some say the best of both.”

I
could have guessed the spellsinger part. “What else?”

“Paladin
Eiliesor takes his job very seriously. He’s honest and he doesn’t play
favorites.” Garadin chuckled as he relit his pipe. “And don’t even think about
offering a bribe. Rumor has it a couple of Caesolian mages tried when he first
took office. Eiliesor didn’t take the offer, but he did take the mages on an
extended tour of the Conclave dungeons. You thinking about setting up a
meeting?”

“That’s
the last thing on my mind. For now I just want to find out who the good guys
are. If there are any.”