Sourcethief (Book 3) (13 page)

Read Sourcethief (Book 3) Online

Authors: J.S. Morin

BOOK: Sourcethief (Book 3)
11.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"Well, that comes as a great relief. I only had
to lead a battle against a dragon, her cannon-toting goblin army, and a Megrenn
sorcerer to finally live up to your expectations."

"I understand that the victory has done little
to ensure your long-term survival with the demon running Kadrin now. You are a
threat to him. Just bridging the worlds was evidence enough of that."

"You are trying to convince me to kill him?
Well, no harm in telling you that I am already working out how to do that, but
not for your sake. I was unaware you even had a sake left to worry over until
moments ago. As far as I was concerned, killing you was the greatest favor
Rashan has done me."

Oriedel's face fell. He looked up at Brannis with
rheumy eyes, tears forming at their corners. "You cannot mean that."

"What part of my childhood torments did you not
play a role in? I had no draw, a Source like a sparrow—why send me back to the
Academy winter after winter? I was too stubborn to give up, too determined. You
should have stopped me, spared me the embarrassment of Ranking Day."

"That was Gravis's decision. He could not admit
his little error in prophecy. He was High Sorcerer. I could not overrule
him," Oriedel said, hunching further beneath the warmth of his blankets.

"Well, if that was all you had brought me here
for, we shall take our leave," Brannis said. He took Soria by the hand and
turned for the door.

"It was not. Two things else I had. Things you
should know, though after those comments I am tempted to let you go in
ignorance."

"What things?" Brannis asked. He glared a
challenge at the old scribe.

"First is a book I tracked down—a journal. When
I first thought of vengeance against Rashan, I felt impotent. When Caladris
sent word that he was twinborn, I did the only thing I could think of from this
side: I figured out who he had been."

"You know?" Brannis asked, his anger
momentarily forgotten.

"Yes. Kadrin twinborn are almost invariably
Acardian. I got Caladris to round up the imperial birth records and
cross-referenced them against Acardian records. I compared them to death
records and ruled out any that died overly young, eventually narrowing it down
to a single, ancient old man for whom no death record existed."

"So who was he?" Brannis asked, hungry for
a name.

"Agga Tenthread, also known as Agga the
Ratkeeper, Agga the Wordmonger, and a dozen other aliases. He ran a network of
spies and information brokers that started and ended wars, profiting in both
directions."

"This journal, where is it now?" Brannis
asked.

"On the shelf in my bedroom. It is titled
A
Rat's Tale
. It was written by one of Agga's underlings but widely regarded
as fictional—exaggerated at best. It is easy to conclude such, based on the
fantastical elements contained within—unless, of course, you know that he was
also Rashan Solaran."

"Rashan has made mention, in vague terms, of running
such an organization between worlds."

"Between worlds, you say?" Oriedel
scratched at his bald head. "I can think of no mention in the journal. It
is possible that the writer either was not twinborn, or intentionally omitted
evidence."

Brannis took a moment to find the book amid
Oriedel's small personal library, stacked on shelves that dominated his tiny
bedchamber.

"I apologize, Father, for my harsh words. This
could be a great help to me."

"You sound like you are preparing to leave.
Have you forgotten I said I had two more things to discuss? That list is down
to but one."

"What was the other thing?" Brannis asked.

"Well, I might be able to explain why Kyrus was
the odd son in the family, taller, scrawnier ... very Solaran, you might say
..."

"No," Soria said, incredulous. Brannis
could say nothing at all.

"Twinborn heredity is a twitchy thing at best,
but it is not all guesswork," Oriedel explained. "Your mother was a
ravishing woman in her youth."

"I cannot stand here and listen to this
..." Brannis said, preparing to leave.

"You should," Soria said, catching him by
the arm. In a whisper she added, "Your half-sister still has my
horse."

Chapter 6 - Twice the Bargain

The rain-soaked deck of the
Fair Trader
nearly slid out from under Tanner's feet several times as he made his way from
the crew quarters to those of Captain Zayne.
You would think twenty years of
sword fighting would give me better balance than a deckhand
, Tanner thought
as he watched the crew walk about like nothing was amiss.

He slumped against the captain's door, his
shoulder's impact standing in for his first knock.

"Captain Zayne," he shouted over the wind.

"Come in, Mr. Tanner," a calm voice called
from within.

Tanner ripped open the door and hung on by it until
he was safely within the captain's cabin. He dripped from every part of him,
and the trip had only been half the length of the ship.

"Thanks, Captain. Don't mind me asking, but
don't you usually man the wheel in a storm?"

"A bit of rain, heavy I grant you, but no
proper storm. Those lads would think less of me for making a drama of it,"
Captain Zayne answered. He was working in a ledger, and turned his attention
back to it as he finished. Tanner had the sense to wait until he gained the
captain's attention before blustering onward. At length the captain pushed the
ledger aside, leaving it open so that the ink might dry.

"I despise sums but no one else about is fit to
do them for me. What excuse have you brought me this morning, Mr. Tanner?"

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Tanner
said. "I suppose I ought to complain I don't know where to bring the kid,
now that I've got him. I guess that's as good a reason as any why I haven't
delivered him yet."

"You have him?" Denrik leaped from his
writing desk, knocking the chair over.

"On an airship. Just waiting on a place to
bring him."

"How did you come by an airship?" Denrik
asked, eyes narrowing. He pulled back from Tanner, his exuberance gone with a
change of the wind.

"I took some of your man Stalyart's advice: I
lied to Kyrus. This whole business wasn't getting done if you two had to work
out an agreement; he couldn't meet your terms and you didn't trust his. So, I
changed your terms."

"And just what have I agreed to?" Denrik
asked. He crossed his arms and twisted up his face in a sneer.

"You're willing to wait on delivery of Rashan's
head. Boy for the staff, with the head once Kyrus can manage it. He thinks he
needs the staff to do it, and you agreed."

"No."

"Oh, come on Cap'n," Tanner said,
imitating the crew's familiar usage of his title. "You think I don't know
that? Spit, I doubt Kyrus believes it, but this way he doesn't have to lie to
Rashan about why he gave up the kid. I don't think he wanted him around
either."

"He cannot have the staff. I still intend to
kill Rashan Solaran myself. Though I would happily see his head perched on a
spike, I shall not relinquish my claim on it meekly. Did you depart entirely
from our plan, or did you still tell him about the demon of Azzat?"

"I told him all right. Don't know if he'll go
see this Xizix of yours, but you got his attention at least. I already left
Kadris so it's not like I can go back and warn him. Is it a trap or
something?"

"Mr. Tanner, why for all the sunken gold in the
Katamic would I tell you if it was? Even if you are aboard an airship, you
could just turn about and return to Kadris."

"Yeah, but I was curious, and I won't. A deal's
a deal, and I'm good on my word. You're getting that kid of yours back soon as
you tell me where to bring him," Tanner said. A sudden roll of the ship
threw Tanner against the wall as Denrik considered what to tell him. The old
seaman's legs moved reflexively with the motion of the ship; he hardly moved,
fixing Tanner with an equally unmoving glare.

"How well do you know Khesh?" Denrik asked
at length.

"Khesh is a big place. I know some of it,"
Tanner said with a shrug.

"The northern regions. In particular, the
northeast," Denrik clarified.

"Been all over Mongrel Khesh." Tanner used
the informal name for the northern regions, where the mixing of blood was
common and foreigners nearly outnumbered native Kheshi. "I don't speak the
language so I’ve never spent much time in the south. Hope you're not expecting
me to be a cartographer though. I follow the city signs at the crossroads when
I'm in Khesh."

"Do you know Kandelgar?" Denrik asked.

"Sounds familiar. What does he look like?"
Tanner asked by way of reply.

"Kandelgar is a city, you sword-brained lout.
Have you been there? Do you know where to find it in Khesh?"

"Ask some local? Usually I ask two or three and
if their stories agree, I take it as true."

"You are truly worthless ..." Denrik shook
his head. "Get over here." Denrik moved to a table covered with the
navigational charts and began digging through a pile of maps.

Tanner attempted to peer over his shoulder but
needed to hold one of the ceiling beams to steady himself. He had eaten well
just before the storm began and was regretting it.

"Here." Denrik stabbed a finger down on a
bright Acardian navy map showing the northern region of Khesh and the surrounding
waters. Tanner saw Kandelgar on the coast.

"Where's that, about where Ghelk and the
Ogrelands run into each other?" Tanner asked.

"Finally! Yes." Denrik slapped a hand to
his forehead. "That is the spot I will meet you. How long will it take you
to get there?"

"Well," Tanner said, trying to put on a
smile despite the clenching sensation in his gut threatening to eject his
breakfast. "That depends on how we work out a few other details."

"Your payment?" Denrik asked.

"I'm thinking about doubling it."

"I can still toss you into the Katamic if you
think to hold my boy hostage like the rest of them tried," Denrik said,
turning fully toward Tanner.

"Hear me out. You've got two sons, right?"
Tanner asked. "One here, one there."

Denrik perked up. "You mean to find Jadon too?
Why?"

"Couple reasons. One: so I can get off this
stinking ship, and two: so I'm not lined up in your cannon’s range in both
worlds at once. You've threatened to toss me into the Katamic enough times for
me to wonder what's kept you from doing it. Near as I can figure, my dying
scream gets heard in one world, I've got friends who can hunt you down in both.
You make me disappear, no one knows and you're in clear seas."

"How delightfully convoluted. Had you
considered maybe that I was just more prudent than to waste my only line of
communication to my enemies?"

Tanner paused a moment, his protruding brow growing
furrowed.

"I want to go with Stalyart ... this world's
Stalyart," Tanner said, eluding the question of whether he had overthought
his predicament. "I've already sent the one in Veydrus to go find you
there."

"You've met Stalyart on the other side?"
Denrik asked, raising an eyebrow. Tanner noticed the pirate's hand sliding
toward his pistol.
It's not cocked. I've got one pace and a lunge to run him
through
.

"We're not plotting anything. I mean, we are
... but not against you—"

"Oh, have it out, man. Enough word
dancing."

Tanner took a deep breath and tried again.
"It's like this: Stalyart meets up with you in Veydrus, we go find Stalyart's
Merciful
and I go off with him, the two of us land in Takalia and start
looking for Jadon. Meanwhile, I drop off Anzik and head back to Kadris. I tell
Kyrus that you poofed away with the boy and the staff. You can still send
messages back and forth with him, just with Stalyart added into the chain.
Kyrus can talk to me, and I talk to Stalyart who talks to you."

Denrik's hand stopped inching toward his pistol and
went to his forehead again.

"Just stop dripping near my maps and get out of
here."

"Hey, one last thing. If you've got any other
coinblades out there looking for the kid, call 'em off. I don't want to cross
blades over this if I don't have to."

"I am afraid those cannons already fired, Mr.
Tanner. These are not hunting dogs to be recalled with a whistle. You shall
have to deal with the fellows as you find them."

* * * * * * *
*

Yekina was cosmopolitan enough that a pair of
foreigners did not stand out so much, especially so near the harbor. Every
manner of legal trade was carried out in the makeshift marketplace of wharves
and docks strictly overseen by Takalish officials. The less reputable sort of
commerce took place as well, but more quietly than in most cities. Still,
Stalyart's
Merciful
was able to take up a berth for long enough that he
and Tanner could lose themselves in the city before anyone recognized them as
pirates.

"How did you ever manage to convince Captain
Zayne to go along with our plan?" Stalyart asked, his habitual grin in
full splendor.

"I think he got sick of listening to me,"
Tanner replied. He pushed his way through the crowd to keep up with the jovial
pirate as they left the Yekina waterfront. "Still better than getting
tossed into the sea."

"Indeed," Stalyart replied.

"We should find a place for us to talk and to
plan. I assume you have given some small thought to this?" Stalyart asked.

"Small one, yeah. Biggest thing for me is
getting back to Kadris on the other side. Should be two or three days."
Tanner shrugged.

"Until then?"

"We enjoy the sights, drink some fine Takalish
rotgut, and ask around if anyone's heard of Wendell the Wizard."

"It is pretty here," Stalyart agreed,
looking about at the buildings with the clear blue sky as a backdrop. "You
can see the Narrack influence, clearly."

"Wouldn't know, I’ve never traveled that far
north," Tanner said. "Never needed to."

"Ahh yes, the Kadrin Empire has
everything," Stalyart said, smirking at Tanner. "Wealth, power,
endless opportunities to—"

"Eat a knife, Stalyart. You know I'm just a
swordsman in the army. I do my traveling this side. Might do for a bit of a
change though, if I make good with Kyrus."

"Tell me, Mr. Tanner, do you lie to Captain
Zayne as much as you have lied to Mr. Hinterdale?" Stalyart asked. "I
would not tell him, of course, I am merely curious. I lie to him with
regularity."

"Stop with that 'Mr.' stuff, we're not on a
boat anymore. And yeah, maybe a little. He had me bent over a railing though,
so I kept to the onboard side of the truth."

"More the pity," Stalyart said, taking a
sudden turn down a side street. Tanner hastened after him. "The captain
could use more liars around him. He should not let his mind go soft, believing
everything he hears."

* * * * * * *
*

The five darshi coin rolled over tiny fingers in a
series of awkward flips. Index finger to pinkie, pinkie back to index finger.
The coin fell more often than it completed the journey cleanly. Zellisan
watched in fascination, not with Jadon's skill or style, but with his stubborn
persistence.

"Look at him," Zell said. "Kid's been
up since just after dawn. Aside from when you made him stop for breakfast, he's
been at it all morning."

"It is magic. Coins do not roll but that one
does, you see," Wendell explained.

"Eckles roll just fine. Give him one of
those."

"That is not the point. He is learning magic.
It all starts with a firm basis in sleight of hand."

"Magic, eh? Just parlor tricks by the look of
it. You use real magic in your shows. I can tell the difference," Zell
said. A sudden impulse made him pick up the helm at his feet. "Let's see
if he's using your way or cheating a bit."

Zell put on the helm, watching Jadon as he did. The
instant the magical circlet concealed within touched his head, the world of
light was overlaid with a stunning view of the aether. So vivid was the detail
that he could even make out vague outlines of Sourceless objects.

"Havoc!" Zellisan cursed. He leaped from
his chair and rushed to the window. "They found us again. Get packed,
we're leaving by the window. I'll hold them off."

"How many?" Wendell asked, already stuffing
everything he could lay hands on into their packs. Zellisan drew the longer of
his swords. The runes' glow was nonexistent; he could only see it by the
strange effect the runes had as they passed through aether.

"Four ... no, make that six I think. They stationed
lookouts."

"Come on Jadon, time to go." Wendell put a
hand on the boy's arm in an attempt to pry his attention from the coin. Jadon
pulled away with a wordless grunt of frustration. The coin fell to the floor.
Jadon ignored Wendell to retrieve it.

"Jadon, men are coming to hurt us. We have to
go. Now!"

"I'm busy. Leave me alone," Jadon said. He
sounded irritated, which was an improvement in a way, though it came at an
inconvenient time.

Other books

The Mercenary's Claim by Chula Stone
The Determining by Grous, Rebecca
Hannah's Dream by Diane Hammond
The Bear's Mate by Vanessa Devereaux
The Surgeon by Tess Gerritsen
A Southern Star by Forest, Anya
Masquerade by Fornasier Kylie
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman
Shift by Kim Curran