“Speaking of the job, Shara’s leading it, so I’ll let her tell you the details.”
She stared at her brother for a heartbeat before her brain found her tongue and she was able to speak. She hadn’t planned to be the one talking, though she’d had plenty of time in the night to think on the imaginary job. “It’s funny ya mentioned this place as a meetin’ place for thieves as that’s why we were sent here. Our mark, the thief, goes by Geilish. Perhaps his reputation precedes him?”
Eli’s eyes widened at the name, and he gave a brief nod.
“Rumors say he holes up here from time to time. If we can get the evidence we need ‘bout his attempt to kill the Duke, then we’ll have all we need to eliminate him.”
“Sounds like a decent job. Though I admit, I’m worried you two might be chasing a rabbit down an endless burrow.”
“How so?” she asked Eli, who frowned.
“I’ve been here two weeks and haven’t seen Geilish even once.”
Bredych tilted his head. “You know him?”
“More like know of him. But it’s enough to know what he looks like and which room is his. Oddly enough, he prefers the room you two have. Nice defendable room at the end of a hallway. Did your information say where he frequents when he isn’t at the inn?”
Shara shook her head. “I guess we’ll have to look around town a bit. See what information we can find out. If he’s moved on from Lachail, we’ll follow him.”
“I can help with talking to the townsfolk. They know me well enough that they’ll talk,” said Eli.
“I’d rather ya took the innkeeper—Juidre was it? Ya work on that, and we’ll see what we dig up from the townsfolk. Sometimes they’ll say more to a stranger than a friend,” she said as she stood. Bredych followed her lead as they both moved towards the inn’s door. “Meet back here in a few candlemarks? Say noon? We can exchange information.”
She felt Eli’s eyes on her back as she left the inn, and she didn’t stop walking until she neared the town’s entrance, where she leaned against a business’s brick exterior. “What do ya think?”
“You did good, but I would expect no less from an Amaskan,” said her brother as he ran a hand across his bald head. “Smart of you to name a real thief, but what are you going to do if we actually find Geilish?”
Shara shrugged. “Eli wants us out of his town. I figure I’ll let him deal with Geilish, assumin’ he shows up here. Last I heard, he was down south goin’ after some ship.”
“Geilish hasn’t killed anyone, but you’d let Eli kill him?”
Her brother’s shoulders lay tense beneath his brown shirt, and she pursed her lips. “Look, Geilish ain’t innocent. He’s broken one of the Thirteen, meanin’ he’s due for some punishment. He’s harmed countless people with his thievin’. Who knows? Maybe someone’s died under his negligence. If Eli wants to add more blood to his list, that’s between him and the Gods. They can straighten them both out as far as I’m concerned.”
“Has anyone ever said you make a lousy Amaskan?”
The tone was one of jest, but the knot in her stomach tightened. Every job with her brother was the same: he’d act second and give her some means to lead the job, then criticize her every decision and action. “Maybe that’s because I never wanted to be one, but ya left me no choice. It was that or die. What else do you think a child would do?”
Her words rushed out in a fury, and a merchant across the road glanced in their direction. Heat rose to her cheeks as she walked further down the alley. Bredych followed her and snatched her arm when he caught up. “It’s been ten years since all that, and fifteen is hardly a child. Are you still holding on to the idea that this was all a mistake?”
“Clearly I am.” Though it didn’t erupt until this job. Why is that? Is it just the thought of ten more years following his instructions like I’m some thoughtless weakling?
He swore and threw up his hands. “Either you are or aren’t an Amaskan, Shara. Which is it going to be?”
“If I answer in the negative, would ya kill me as required?”
Bredych’s hands trembled at his sides. “Shendra, you’re my only family left. I-I can’t believe you would ask me that.”
The use of her dead name surprised her, and for a moment, she hesitated. “Brother, I love you, but you would kill our mother if you thought it would gain you the title of Grand Master.”
His face paled, then he spun on his heal, leaving her alone in the alley. Where he went, only he knew, as she never saw him as she roamed the city looking for information on the wrong man.
As noon approached, she found herself alone with Eli, who bought her excuse that Bredych was following a lead. Neither of them had found much to share, and both went their separate ways with an uncomfortable silence that stalked her long after the sun went down.
Eli sat in the inn’s common room, eating his dinner and drinking as he’d done the past few days, and if he stayed on schedule, he’d remain there another candlemark or two. It was the perfect opportunity to see what evidence lay in his room.
Of course, there was the matter of gaining entrance. The hallway lay in perfect view of the common room. For all that the inn was a gathering ground for the less scrupulous, the doors’ locks had left much to be desired as Shara’s picking rod had slid into her door easily. Twenty seconds turning and the lock had given up. Test completed, and all she needed was twenty seconds at his door without anyone being able to see her.
With no way to blow out all the candles in the room at once, she tried her luck at the other inn, the Ebitai. Unlike the Katalhum Inn, dozens of townsfolk gathered in the common room to drink, eat, and play a little cards. Everyone from the wealthy in town down to the stablehands crowded around tables to enjoy the evening. When she walked in, the clamor died, but only for a moment as several townsfolk grabbed her by the elbows and pushed her into a nearby chair.
“Join us, Master…?” asked a muscular man who smelled of iron.
“Shara, Master Blacksmith.”
He grinned at the title and poured her a drink. “‘Bout time you left the dank cave of Katalhum’s for the joy that is Ebitai.” She arched a brow at him, and he added, “Not that Katalhum’s is bad or anything, but a rather questionable element spends time there, and you’re too pretty a lady to be caught with men like that.”
She laughed at the picture he painted. “Can I get the name of the man payin’ me such unseemly attention?”
“Blacksmith Bahr, at your service.”
A few others at the table introduced themselves, though less boldly, before returning to their conversations.
“You seem unbothered by my shaved head,” she said.
He bowed in her direction. “There are many holy orders in the Little Dozen Kingdoms which shave for religious reasons. Who am I to make assumptions on private matters? That’s between you and the Thirteen.”
For all his strong words, Bahr refrained from glancing at the tattoo on her jaw and kept his eyes on his mug, a decision that had probably kept him alive in a town like Lachail. The man made for an excellent conversationalist as Shara continued to fill his mug. His laughter grew louder and at one point, when he was busy slapping the arms of another at the table, Shara dumped the contents of an herb packet in his drink.
Amaskans trained in sleight of hand, though most never needed the skill, and for once, she was grateful. If caught using Lorl, she’d end up hanging in the town square as fast as one could sneeze. The drug itself was little more than a spiny, purple plant, but when crushed and ingested, the herb had a powerful magic that was illegal to use. Shara never left the Order without some. Most Amaskan women didn’t.
His face grew flushed as he downed his drinks, and his words slurred as he joked about making himself iron shoes. She let him ramble as she spoke of the weather and other meaningless talks until he was well under the medicine’s effects. Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Follow me.”
Shara swaggered towards the door,
and Bahr followed to a chorus of laughter and hoots by his friends. His feet stumbled a bit in the dirt as he followed her outside and down the alley, where she pushed him against the wall. “Big, strong man like yerself, a fight sounds good to ya.”
“A fight sssounds good t’me,” he repeated, eyes glazed over as he focused on nothing.
“You’ll go inside Katalhum and start a fight. Make sure to engage the man in gray who sits in the corner.”
Bahr’s head nodded drunkenly. “Katalhum. Fight the man in graaay.”
“Don’t kill anyone, and if anyone asks, ya never spoke to me. This was yer idea because ya didn’t like the man’s look.”
“No killin’. Never talked to you. I don’t like him.”
She gave him a gentle shove in the inn’s direction and followed a few heartbeats behind. Halfway there, Shara paused for a moment, face upturned to the stars. Thirteen forgive me for using one of your innocents. I only do this in service of Justice. Forgiveness asked, she pulled up her hood and tied it close about her face.
Bahr entered first, and it wasn’t long before the sounds of a fight trickled outside. Several people spilled out the door as they fled the scene, and Shara used the opportunity to sidle in.
Eli’s back was to her, as was the innkeeper’s as they both tackled Bahr, and she ducked into the empty hallway. Twenty seconds was all she needed as she unfolded her picking rod and slid it into the lock where it turned with ease. A few more turns and wiggles, and the lock clicked. She waited until she was tucked inside Eli’s room to fold up the rod and return it to the hidden flap in her belt.
His travel bags sat at the bed’s foot and were the obvious place to start. But he’s been here over two weeks. Perhaps he’s settled into the room. Though if the Tribor are anythin’ like Amaskans, he’d be ready to flee at a moment’s notice. She slid her hands under the straw mattress and found only a short sword tucked near the head. A small chest rested in the corner. Shara opened it to find an extra blanket, which she shook out before folding it up and returning it. Like the rest of the inn’s rooms, no windows or closets existed to endanger any inhabitants, and she pursed her lips together.
That left the obvious.
She opened the larger of the two bags and found typical traveling gear: clothing, a blanket full of holes, some dried jerky, and a water flask. The small bag held some string, flint and steel, and a few other travel necessities, but when moved, something inside crinkled. The obvious pockets held smaller, expected items, but the sound came from the bag’s rear. When she ran her fingers along the bottom seem, it was closed, but the top opened when pried apart, revealing a hidden pocket.
Someone, presumably Eli, had shoved the parchment into the hidden pocket in a rush as it came out rumpled. While not written in Sadain, Shara could read and write in several languages, including that of Shad, though she didn’t recognize a few of the words.
Master,
The brother is no more. I’ll wait for his bhovian baklar as instructed, then take care of that little problem, too. Itovah willing, I’ll return shortly.
Eli
If she took the parchment, he’d know she’d been in his room. Bredych will just have to believe me when I tell him I found the evidence. Assuming he returns… Shara shoved the note back into the hidden pouch and closed it. As she stood, silence met her ears, and her heart raced.
Why aren’t they fighting?
Laughter erupted, and she cracked the door open. No one stood in the hallway, but they might as well have been. Eli and Bahr stood at the common room’s edge. Both men laughed again as Eli gave the blacksmith a light shove towards the door. “Remember, you want to go home and sleep it off,” called Eli.
Shara closed the door, her mind keeping pace with her heart. Should’ve figured he’d recognize Lorl. Bredych did warn me this guy’s smart. He’s been one step ahead of the Royal Guard the entire time, and I can see why. He knows what we’ll do because he trained with us. Dammit.
There was no escaping Eli’s room with him standing nearby. Shara shed her cloak as well as the rest of her clothing, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and then crawled beneath the bed’s lone blanket. A few deep breaths had her calm as she waited.
She didn’t have to wait long as his footfalls announced his entrance a few minutes later. Eli stepped inside and froze, his eyes flashing in anger as he registered the figure in his bed. When she sat up, a sultry smile upon her face, his brows furrowed, though one less than the other as a bruise developed from where he’d been hit. She stood, allowing the blanket to drop, and slid toward him.
Her lips jutted out as she pouted at his busted lip, and she dragged a delicate finger across it. “I didn’t intend for my distraction to damage ya so much,” she said.
While his body responded to her, his eyes remained tense as he shut the door behind him with his foot. “And why did you need a distraction?”
“How else was I to gain access to yer room?”
She reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, and he grabbed her wrists, holding them in front of him. “And why did you need access to my room, hmmm? What were you looking for?”
Shara licked one of his fingers that held her in place. “I was lookin’ for you. I thought that was obvious by my…state of undress.”
“So, you came here to seduce me.”
She nodded. “I’m not exactly an innocent maiden. I figured we’d seduce each other.”
When he smiled, the grin displayed too many teeth, and the ferality of it sent a shiver across her skin. “You’ve got too many scars across that body to ever be considered innocent,” he said as he gripped her wrists harder. He glanced at his bags and his frown deepened. “But that many scars tells me you could play me like a fiddle, and I’d probably like it. Too bad for you you’re Amaskan.”
“I don’t understand.” Shara forced another pout and tilted her body closer to the bed. “We both are.”
Eli shoved her, hard.
She stumbled across the floor in the bed’s direction and glanced up to see genuine sorrow written across his face.
“Ah, Shara, what I wouldn’t give to be here in another lifetime. The fun we could have had.”
As he spoke, her hands moved through the clothing behind her until they found the hilt of a dagger. She undid the clasp as his hand reached for the dagger at his waist. Eli held the dagger before him, and she slid hers out of the sheath, careful to keep it behind her back. All pretense between them gone, she asked, “What gave us away?”
“Geilish hasn’t been spotted in Sadai since he robbed the King’s treasury. I intercepted a letter to the Order that placed him over the Harren Sea on some island. You weren’t here for him, which left only me. Though to be honest, it finally clicked last night where I’d seen Malachi’s face before, or should I say Bredych? I only passed him a few times at the Order, but it was enough to recall who he was.”
“If ya knew the entire time, why wait ’til now to kill us? Is it a Tribor requirement to stretch this out? And how does an Amaskan turn Tribor anyway?”
“You’re stalling, but I’ll answer. I wanted to see how far you’d take it.” He glanced down at her naked body and shook his head. “Looks like you were willing to do whatever you had to in order to kill me. That’s how an Amaskan becomes Tribor.”
“I don’t understand.”
He closed the distance between them and crouched before her, and she tightened the grip on her dagger. “The Order pretends they know what the Thirteen want and is willing to do whatever’s necessary to carry it out. But what happens when your leader’s wrong? When you’re asked to do something you know isn’t right? What will you do then, Shara? Will you blindly do what they tell you, or will you see the truth?”
When he touched the dagger to her face, its sharpness stung, and warm blood trickled down her cheek. “And what truth is that?” she asked, though her stomach tied knots around what she worried he’d say.
“There is no Justice, dear Shara.
Only a past that can’t be changed, and the people stuck living in it.”
Eli leaned in to kiss her, and she allowed it. In the space between their lips touching and a single heartbeat, she shoved her body against his and pinned his dagger between them. As she wrapped her arms around his waist, she drove her dagger into his kidney.
He arched as he fell backward, crying out in pain. Shara snatched her cloak from the floor as she darted toward the door. She’d merely tossed it across her shoulders when he called her name, and when she turned, hideous bubbling foam poured forth from his mouth.
“What’d ya do?” she asked.
The spitting foam that burned his lips choked his sentence, but she’d understood one word. Magic.
Unable to turn away, Shara watched as he gurgled, his eyes bulging in a grotesque manner, and the blood-soaked foam devoured first his face and then his body.
Devoured.
There was no other word for what the magical compound did to his flesh, and when a droplet hit the inn’s wooden floor, it began to devour it, too.
What in the Thirteen is this? Shara backed up until she touched the door, her fingers searching for the knob as the foam ate its way across the floor. Everything it touched, from her clothing to the bed’s straw mattress became a melted puddle of ooze after the foam devoured it. When it reached the candle, the room’s light disappeared, leaving her in sudden darkness.
She ran into the common room using her fingers to hold her cloak together. “Run! There’s something in Eli’s room a-and it’s destroying it. Run now!”
Juidre, the innkeeper, tilted his head before he returned to pouring drinks as he muttered under his breath.
Shara didn’t wait. She fled the inn and didn’t stop running until she’d reached the town’s center where she sat on a large stone and waited. Would the magic stop with the inn, or would it keep going? How many people would be awoken from sleep as searing pain erupted across their bodies?
Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4) Page 83
