Sourcethief (Book 3) (38 page)

"It isn't the hair," Rakashi said,
"it's the hands."

* * * * * * *
*

"So, that fella in the market was Hojan, like
he said. Trann owns that corner, but he hasn't been around, so Hojan is keeping
it warm for him, and probably earning twice his normal tips playing
there," Soria told them. They had rented an upper-floor room in the
tallest inn they could find, with a window that faced the setting sun.

"Does he know where Trann is?" Brannis
asked. Soria smiled and nodded. "Great, let's go find out where Abbiley
and Tomas have gone."

"That's the beauty of it. We don't actually
need to talk to Trann. Trann was the answer, not the informant. He's playing on
retainer, up there." Soria pointed out the window to a hilltop manor set
on the outskirts of the city. The inn's vantage allowed them a clear view of
it.

"Who lives there?" Brannis asked.

"Lady Skaal is there presently. It is a winter
home, for when the weather in the south grows too cold for comfort. It would
normally only be occupied by caretakers this time of year, but it has
guests."

"Lady Skaal and her foreign guests?"
Rakashi ventured.

"And more guards than usual," said Soria.

"So it's a trap," Brannis said. It was not
a question.

"Looks that way," Soria agreed. "We
should hit them tonight, before they decide to move the trap further south on
us. They know we will chase them."

"Wait, what if the information you got was
wrong? We could burst in on an armed noble estate, and be caught totally in the
wrong. We should scout out the building, and see who is inside first,"
Brannis said. "It's late afternoon. In a few hours we can get in there and
look around."

"You mean I could," Soria stated. She
crossed her arms and gave Brannis a skeptical look. "Rakashi's none too
subtle, but you're a lost cause. Besides, I don't want you going about anywhere
without that armor. You just aren't the swordsman to fight unprotected."

"Fine, you go, but we need it to be soon."

"No deal. We trust the piper's word and go
tonight. Right or wrong, the consequences are the same for attacking a noble
lady's house in the middle of the night. If we waste a night doing
reconnaissance, we might as well pay their carriage fare south for them. All we
have right now is surprise."

"We should have horses ready for our
escape—fresh ones," Rakashi said.

Soria nodded. "Good thought. We should stable
them just north of the manor. Get five, assuming they can both ride."

"What if the piper tips them off that we know
about them?" Brannis asked.

"That would be a bold bet by the piper with
little to gain if he's right. I pay him plenty for information, and if he gets
me killed, that dries up for good. If he tries and fails, well, that just
wouldn't be healthy for him ..."

"She has a reputation, you see," Rakashi
reminded him.

"I get it, the pipers are more afraid of you
than this Lady Skaal."

"Well, that's what I'm betting on anyway."

* * * * * * *
*

Dusk spread over Kjalljhal on a clear night with
just a few lazy clouds to block the stars. Five horses whickered and fidgeted,
not yet used to the smell of their new owners. The steeds had not been stabled
at all, but instead were tethered to a row of trees planted around Lady Skaal's
estate. The sapling maples looked just thick enough that a startled horse might
not be able to uproot them.

"
Kethek indu ixoi hakidu
," Soria
muttered, clasping her hands in a bubble and expanding them outward. Everyone
paused.

The wind rustled in the leaves of the maples.
Brannis and Rakashi shared a glance.

"I can still—" Brannis began.

"I know!" Soria snapped. "Shut up and
I'll try again."

"
Kethek indu—
"

"I think it's
imdu
," Brannis interrupted.

"
—ixoi hakidu
," Soria finished. She
repeated the gesture, but nothing happened. She swiveled her head to face
Brannis, fire in her eyes. "I don't do this often, alright? I'll get
it."

"Just keep your voice down," Rakashi
reminded her. "We are attempting to avoid noise, not create it."

"
Kethek imdu ixoi hakidu
," Soria
chanted. This time, when she parted her cupped hands, the wind stopped. Or
rather, the sound of the wind in the trees stopped; the final gasps of
springtime still washed over the skin with a pleasant tickle.

"..." Brannis said, his mouth moving, but
no sound issuing forth.

"..." Soria replied, guessing what Brannis
had tried to say, and pointing to the estate wall, her part done for the
moment.

Brannis drew Avalanche from its sheath and poked a
hole in the stone wall. Mortar crumbled and cut stone blocks cracked like
poorly fired pottery. He waved the blade about and cleared a section wide
enough for all of them to pass without a struggle, aside from the need to
scramble over the pile of wall rubble.

Within the estate grounds, they found themselves in
a garden. Tended fruit trees were planted all about with flowers whose petals
appeared as little more than shades of grey in the moonlight. A path to the
rear entrance of the manor house was easily visible.

"... blah blah ... ah, there we go. Can
everyone hear again?" Soria asked. Brannis and Rakashi nodded. "Fine
then, Rakashi, you hold the rear entrance, I'll clear the ground floor and hold
the front. We'll stop anyone escaping and take care of any of the guards who
try to lend aid from outside. Brannis, you search the upper floors. Kill anyone
who—"

"I'll take it from there. I know a thing or two
about command. I'll use my own judgment on who needs killing," Brannis
said. Soria glared, but did not press him.

The three of them dashed for the rear entrance, all
pretense of stealth lost as Brannis clattered across the grounds in his armor.
They had nothing but force of arms and the element of surprise left to them.

Two guards met them as they approached the rear
gate, and shouted the alarm. Soria rushed past them and shouldered her way
through the door as Rakashi cut them down. The guards' swords seemed paltry
defense against his runed half-spear.

Brannis lumbered along behind, mindful of the slick
blood on the manor's steps that spread as he approached. Once inside, he saw
three more guards lying dead or dying in the parlor, as well as a manservant
who had chosen a poor time to be in the way. Brannis swept his gaze about and
decided that the front of the manor was his best wager to find the stairs going
up.

He heard a clatter from the kitchens, crockery vying
with screams to drown each other out. Shouts in Kheshi echoed throughout the
stone walls of the manor, lending to the chaos. Brannis arrived at the front
doors before Soria had a chance to reach them—presumably she was off somewhere
terrorizing the kitchen staff. A pair of honor guard in formal livery held
halberds at the ready to meet him, leveled point forward like spears. Brannis
strode straight toward them, Avalanche leading.

A shout from above and behind him caught Brannis's
attention. The two halberd-wielding guards had been edging forward to meet him,
but stopped short. He spared a quick glance and saw four Kheshi men with
muskets aimed down at him.
No wonder the door guards held back.
One of
the gunners—now with Brannis's full attention—shouted again.
I really have
to learn this language
. Glancing to either side, he saw a pair of stairways
that led up to meet at the landing.

"Hello," Brannis called up to the landing.
"Do any of you speak Acardian?"

Brannis watched carefully, and saw one of the
gunners turn to another and ask something. Figuring that two distracted gunners
were the best chance he would get, Brannis whirled and closed the distance to
the halberdiers. He batted away their axe-like blades, snapping one off at the
head, and wrenching the other from its owner's grasp.

Crackkk! Crackkk! Crackkk!
Crackkk!

The gunners loosed their shots at Brannis. He felt
nothing, unsure whether his sudden action had spoiled their aim or if Liead's
armor had cushioned the blows to the point where he felt nothing at all.
Brannis spared little time finding out. One of the halberdiers had stumbled
over himself in an effort to escape while the other stood his ground with
nothing but his weapon's shaft. Brannis rushed the man and swatted him to the
ground with the back of his gauntlet, then turned to run for the stairs.

Muskets were slow cumbersome weapons, but were
generally given credit for being able to put a lead shot through the best
smithed armor coin could buy. Had any of the four gunners expected their target
to survive the volley, it was still unlikely that they would have gotten their
weapons reloaded in time for a second shot. As Brannis raced up one set of
stairs, the gunners made their escape down the other. Brannis paid them little
heed.

"Abbiley ... Tomas ... we are here to rescue
you!" Brannis called out. "We were sent by Lord Harwick to bring you
home!"

Brannis made a search of the second floor, repeating
his shout when corridors met. He opened every door, finding no one save for a
few cowering household servants, none of whom showed any sign of understanding
Acardian.

The stairs up to the third floor yielded even less
encouraging results. The "lord's floor" was a shamble of unmade beds
and empty wardrobes, with clothing left strewn about. Brannis looked more
thoroughly in a guest room that seemed to have had a female occupant. Kyrus had
known Abbiley before she had owned any finery, but when he held up a discarded
silk dress, he could imagine it about her. The size and proportion looked right
enough to him, even if he knew little about women's clothing.

"The stables are empty!" Rakashi's voice
shouted up from below.

"They knew," Brannis whispered to himself.

* * * * * * *
*

"Well, I was right, and I was wrong,"
Soria both bragged and admitted at once. "The piper didn't sell us out,
but someone sent word ahead of us. Lady Skaal left probably sometime while we
were in the marketplace, best I can figure, maybe a little later."

"The gate guards?" Brannis suggested.

"No way to be sure. None of this lot knew. I'm
guessing not, though, since they'd be too easy to corner if we wanted to take
some of their parrot-coins back from them," Soria replied. They stood in
the wine cellar of the Skaal estate, speaking freely in Acardian in front of
dozens of servants and a few guards who had surrendered. Their prisoners were
tied back-to-back in pairs, where they would remain until someone came to
investigate the manor and found them.

"Maybe they were counting on us being too busy
to deal with them? I have no plans to go back to the northern gate for
vengeance," Brannis said.

"Back when we used to work around here, I would
have—"

"Yes," Rakashi cut off Soria's memories of
vengeance past, "but tonight we sleep on the road. We must retrieve our
horses and be gone. We have gotten all we need from these, and spent too long
in doing so." Rakashi swept a hand to indicate their prisoners, and then
hurried up the stairs, Soria just behind him. Halfway up, Soria paused and
looked back.

"Stop that," Brannis chided her. "I
can see a look in your eyes that says you'd like to spill a few barrels of
wine, and light the whole cellar in our wake. No."

Soria scrunched her nose and glared back at Brannis,
but did not deny his claim.

* * * * * * *
*

Only
three horses, not five, rode out the southern gate of Kjalljhal that night. The
guards stood, eyes to the southern road, and ignored them as they galloped by.

"What a marvelous little curiosity,"
Rashan remarked. The demon was bent over a large table in the newly named Map
Room of the palace. His eyes passed over the lakes, forests, and little
mountains poking up from the table's wooden surface. The whole of Koriah lay
before him, plotted in minute detail. It was an improved version of the one
Kyrus had fashioned in the army headquarters before it was destroyed. It was
thrice the size of the original.

"I thought you might like it. In light of recent
reports, I figured it would be useful in plotting out our course of
action," Kyrus replied. He walked around the table to the region of Ghelk
as he spoke.

"Indeed. I had heard of the one you kept in
your old office, but I must say this is better and more useful than I had
anticipated. I had not given sufficient thought to the possibilities of
updating it rapidly, in time with the war efforts. I would make a minor change
or two though ..."

Kyrus jumped back as the table legs snapped off,
along with the cross supports that ran underneath; he felt the ripping and
tugging clearly in the aether. Rashan hurled them telekinetically into the
corridor. The table hung in the air a moment, then drifted down to the floor
... and kept going. The table vanished, merged with the floor of the Map Room.
The furnishings all about the room drifted out the door soon thereafter.

"What are you doing?" Kyrus asked. Rashan
grinned and held up a finger. Kyrus waited.

The map began to grow, maintaining its proportions
as it advanced and encroached on where Kyrus stood. He watched it approach his
feet, and scrambled backward before its advance. An impact at his back told him
that the wall had seen enough of his retreat and insisted he go no farther. The
illusion of Koriah washed harmlessly over his boots until it, too, had reached
the wall.

"Much better," said Rashan.

Kyrus shrugged.
If you made it full sized, you
could see everything. It is a map, not a copy
.

"I suppose we both know hints of each other's
private little schemes," Kyrus began. "I took a risk that has
recently cost us an airship, it would seem. The
Black Gull
was due back
days ago. Since its mission involved dealing with Jinzan Fehr, I could only
assume that he had either destroyed or commandeered the vessel."

"Some new fact has come to light and you no
longer need assume?" Rashan asked.

"Now we have word that Reaver's Crossing ...
has fallen," Kyrus said. He hung his head. At his feet, the little dotted
line that indicated the borders of the Megrenn Alliance moved, engulfing
Reaver's Crossing. Tiny wisps of smoke rose from the mountain city.

Rashan's eyes narrowed a moment. "Brannis, your
aunt lived in Reaver's Crossing, did she not?"

"She did," Kyrus replied. "Not only
that, but Danilaesis had gone to stay with her. He was to have been back at the
Academy in the autumn."

"He had? This is the first I have heard of it.
I had assumed Axterion was still watching the boy," Rashan replied. He
strode carelessly across the plains of central Kadrin to stand nearer Kyrus.

"Axterion is the one who told me. I had thought
little of it until now."

Rashan shook his head. "The hope for the next
generation. The boy was already nearly as strong as Iridan, and only seven
autumns old. He wanted to be a warlock ..."

"We have to stop him."

"Of course."

"We know he was in Ghelk not long ago.
Loramar's hidden tomb was in Lon Mai," Kyrus said. A red glow surrounded
the Ghelkan capital on the map, and Kyrus stepped away, skirting the eastern
shoreline.

"How did you know that?" Rashan asked. The
demon cocked his head to the side.

"You are not the only one who talks to Axterion
as if he still has wits in that wrinkled old head of his. He told me of your
talk the other day, and the trap he laid for the next Ghelkan who tries to
follow Loramar's example. I would not like to have crossed him, back in his
day," Kyrus said. He pointed down to the map, and a line appeared, tracing
from Lon Mai down to Reaver's Crossing. "An airship need follow no roads,
so let us assume he took a straight path."

"Fine, we might guess at his speed by gross
measure, but it is little help beyond that. We need his motive, not his
course," Rashan argued. A ring appeared, centered on Reaver's Crossing,
then another, and another; each was larger than the last. "Guessing at his
speed, each ring is one day's flight. Look how many cities lie within: Garsley,
Weiselton, Sharefield, Dolok, and Whitefield to the west; Glan's Reach and
Mistport to the east. I suppose Donnel's Fort is possible as well, but they
would have to backtrack north to retake it from us."

"Whitefield seems the logical choice to head
him off," Kyrus reasoned. He extended his red line from Lon Mai to
Reaver's Crossing, and brought it down to Whitefield. The line was not
straight, but lay along a straighter path than any other city that Rashan had
mentioned. "Strategically valuable as well, if he means to wage a long
war. The fields and herds around Whitefield feed half the empire, and a
necromancer's army should care little for food."

"That much is true, at least," Rashan
agreed. "But think of why he is attacking at all. You seem to presume that
he wants to confront us directly; your little line heads inexorably toward
Kadris. He is not ready to face us. He has fled from me once already."

"Well, what is your idea then?"

"He needs an army. If he knows his history or
if enough of Loramar's records remained intact, he will build his army. He will
seed the continent with his apprentices and raise up the dead behind each
conquest," Rashan explained.

"Then we should go behind him and destroy the
apprentices," Kyrus replied. "Certainly we know where they are,
follow the cities that fall to Jinzan's budding horde."

"Perhaps. If this drags on long enough we might
even have to resort to that. I would much rather stop the necromancer than
follow behind him like the sweeper at a cavalry parade," Rashan said.

"What then, we both go our separate ways and
guess a city each?" Kyrus asked. He looked down at the map floor and
spread his hands.

"No, we wait. We cannot afford to flit off to
every point of the empire on guesses."

* * * * * * *
*

"So, Faeranna, eh?" Axterion asked. It was
not really a question, but more a questioning of whether he had heard right.
The old man's head hung, not even looking up as he asked.

The study was musty and silent, the only light
coming in through drawn curtains. Kyrus stood across from his grandfather's
desk.

"Presumed, at least. Her family was from there,
and she hated travel, so ..." Kyrus let his words trail off, not wanting
to further upset his grandfather.

"I see. Poor thing ... never was up to the
rigors of motherhood. Nearly did her in ... almost wish it had." Axterion
shook his head. "Someone ought to find a way to get word to the boy. He's
got to know he's an orphan now."

You were the one who told me he
went to stay with her, grandfather. Do you really not remember, or are you just
choosing not to?

"I can make sure someone lets him know,"
Kyrus agreed.

* * * * * * *
*

"Brannis! Brannis, I have it," Rashan
called out as he entered the Map Room. Kyrus sat on the floor with a stack of
reports, piecing together updates to the map. At present he was working on
airship reports of Megrenn resistance.

"Have what?"

"I think I know a way to track down the—one
moment, when did you stop carrying a sword?" Rashan stopped mid-answer and
shifted course.

"I stopped by the estate this morning after our
meeting. I felt I ought to tell Axterion myself. I left the sword there, in my
old room. I got my dueling instructor killed along with losing the airship, and
I could curl it up like a watch spring with hardly a thought. It seemed like a
silly pretension I was keeping up. I'm not even grand marshal anymore."

"Not a turn of phrase you hear much around
here. Not too many folk even know what a pocket watch is. In any event, I have
the solution to track down Jinzan Fehr and our missing airship. Send the
Starlit
Marauder
after it," Rashan said.

Kyrus's face went blank. He knew because everything
inside him went blank, and it must have shown through to the face. Kyrus stood.

"No."

Rashan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"It is not yours to command. I run the army. That ship is mine."

"NO."

"I know you can get word to Juliana. I know how
easy it is. She is probably lying in your arms right now. Take just a moment's
respite from this world, wake her, and tell her to hunt that ship down for
us," Rashan said.

We are sleeping in a gully a mile
off the nearest road. We just got to sleep not long ago, and we will be up
again before dawn hits Khesh. I would sooner wake a sleeping bear.

"Fine," Kyrus replied. He glared down at
the demon for a moment before closing his eyes.

He was still aware of the tapping of an impatient
demon's foot as he awoke in Brannis's body. Soria was indeed curled up in his
arms. Both of them were still in their armor. She was tucked beside him, using
a spare change of clothes as a pillow between her head and the bare metal of
his armor.

In his head, Brannis played out the conversation,
imagining how it would go. In Veydrus, Kyrus took what he hoped looked like an
involuntary step back, raising his hands defensively. Brannis imagined the
haranguing she would give him, his retort, her vented opinions about the
warlock, his caution not to wake Rakashi, her questioning why it needed to be
her, his explanation of Rashan's plan, and finally her relenting.

Through all of it, Soria remained snoring softly,
the gentle nighttime breezes blowing strands of her hair across his face.

"She agreed, but you owe me for this,"
Kyrus said as he blinked away Brannis's vision.

"She should be in little enough danger. That
ship she commands is far faster," Rashan assured him.

"And who is going to protect Brannis from her
twin?" Kyrus asked.

Rashan laughed as he left Kyrus to his work.

* * * * * * *
*

The shushing of the underbrush against their clothes
was the only sound for a long while as they picked their way down a path that
was little more than a game trail. It drowned out the clatter of a leather
scabbard against a dangling pack. It drowned out the sounds of soft boots on
dirt, rock and root. It tried to drown out the sounds of complaints, but there
it fell short.

"I like a day in the woods much as the next
fella, I suppose, but this is a bit much, don't ya think?" Tanner asked.
He stopped a moment to mop his brow with a sleeve.

"Ah, listen a moment," Stalyart replied.
Tanner stopped talking, and Stalyart put a hand to his ear. The wind rustled
the leaves, but as it abated, another sound could be heard. The ocean was
close.

"It is not far now. We may be rid of these
flowering, sticky smells, and have the Aliani within our noses again. I would
sleep in the crow's nest tonight, I think. My stomach and legs cannot stand
much more of this stubbornly still ground," said Stalyart.

"Ain't one for poems, but you get me off Ghelk
and back someplace they won't kill me on sight, I'll be plenty happy,"
Tanner agreed.

The tree line broke not much farther along,
revealing a rocky stretch of shoreline with tall cliffs high enough to hide a
ship. A shallow, protected cove, one of hundreds along the ragged Ghelkan
coastline, was an ideal spot to stow a ship if you wanted nothing to do with
local ports.

"You sail that thing?" Tanner scoffed. He
pointed down to the two-masted vessel anchored in the cove. "I'd figured a
nautical guy like you would have scribbled up plans for a proper frigate, or a
schooner. But this?" Tanner gestured to the ship, and shrugged. Stalyart
kept walking toward the shore, not slowing his pace.

"We are not all in the business of fighting at
sea. I am a smuggler here, not a pirate. I gain nothing from having a ship I
cannot anchor in tiny places and slip unnoticed among other ships. I think you
will like it better than the ships in the other world," Stalyart said.
"I even invented Crackle here." He turned to look over his shoulder,
and fixed Tanner with a smile.

"Let's just get out of this dying
kingdom."

"Hah, you have no idea the truth of your
words."

Tanner found a cordial welcome aboard the
Silent
Echo
; there was merriment in the wake of the captain's return. He was
pleased to discover that most of the crew understood at least a little Kadrin,
and bore no ill will toward him. They were a mongrel lot, more unusual a
finding in Veydrus than in the metropolitan seas of Tellurak.

An hour out to sea, Tanner realized that a tension
within him had unwound itself. With the hot sun above, the cool sea breezes all
around, and no land in sight, he felt like he could have been anywhere. There
was no Kadrin Empire, no menacing sorcerers, and no twinborn plots buffeting
him about.