Masters of Deception

by J C Kang

  Once they’d bypassed Aryn’s men, she paused to look over the eight-foot seawall at a muddy flat between two of the ship docks. The salt smell hung in the air.

  “Well?” Sameer tugged on the sleeves of his long shirt.

  She pointed at the jumble of footprints in the drying mud. “Our friends were here.”

  The Paladin master, Anish, shifted from foot to foot. “There must be a hundred sets of prints. They could be anyone’s.”

  Such a doubter. Jie held her hands a foot apart. “Look at the size of those prints, and how deep they sank.” She pointed to the tracks leading from the water to up along the seawall.

  “Ooooh.” Sameer’s eyes were as wide as the temple guard dogs’ when they begged for treats.

  Anish’s eyes narrowed. “How can you be sure it wasn’t just another large man?”

  Jie let her lip pop. “Heel print. The locals wear those ridiculous platform shoes, not the heavy boot that made this.” Question was, what were the Teleri doing down there? “Come on, let’s see where the tracks lead us.”

  They followed the trail for several dozen feet, to a set of stone stairs halfway between the docks.

  “Dead end.” Anish threw up his hands.

  Ignoring him, Jie went down a few steps and studied the seawall. The mortar between the stones was stained to about waist height. She held her hand there. “When the tide comes in, the water level rises this high. Our friends had to have passed through while the tide was out, long enough for the mud to dry a little. I’d guess between two or three hours ago.”

  She climbed back up and intercepted the nearest sailor. She dipped into a curtsey; a showy, pointless skill acquired with plenty of practice around the Prince Aryn and Northerners over the last couple of weeks. “How long since low tide?”

  The man scratched his head. “About three hours, maybe?”

  She cast the Paladins a smug grin before turning back. “What do people do down on the banks?”

  He shrugged. “Fish? Launch small boats?”

  She turned back to the Paladin. “I don’t think they were fishing, and the tracks lead away from shore. The tide has already claimed the traces of the boat they came in on.”

  “Like I said.” Anish smirked. “Dead end.”

  “Not necessarily.” Jie sniffed. Whatever combination of spices the Bovyan had stuck to his teeth, their aroma cut through the salt air and beckoned her now. A worthless elf father might have abandoned her in search of fun and adventure, but at least he gifted her with superior senses.

  How bizarre she must have looked, snuffling like one of the Black Lotus temple dogs through the crowded waterfront. “The plague,” she said to a woman who was staring with disgust, causing her to cover her mouth and run off.

  Jie’s elf nose guided them to a street vendor’s cart, where layers of meat roasted on a vertical spit.

  Unlike other merchants in their puffy, colorful clothes, the young man wore a plain white shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose bronzed, toned arms. A headband kept sweat-matted hair out of his face, and hopefully out of the food. “Roasted lamb gyros,” he yelled, cutting slices from the rotisserie and piling them into a flatbread with some kind of chunky cheese and leafy green vegetables.

  The Paladins crowded behind her, their noses scrunching up. Sameer’s hand formed a mudra.

  The vendor grinned. “I use my great-great-grandmother’s secret marinade. It is the best roasted lamb in Tokahia. No, the best in the Estomar.”

  Like tarot card reader Roberto Romero, who’d claimed to be the best Diviner in the Estomar, there was no line for service. Perhaps the Estomari didn’t define best the way the rest of the world did. Jie curtseyed. “Sir, some friends of mine highly recommended your stall. I’m trying to find them.”

  “I have so many patrons; you’ll have to be more specific.”

  Jie looked over her shoulder at the non-existent line of patrons, then back. “Of course. My friends are big, with an appetite—and attitude—to match.”

  His face contorted for a split second before his broad smile returned. “The Teleri, yes. I didn’t realize they had female friends.”

  Jie offered an apologetic smile. Of course, the Bovyans’ reputation as rapists preceded them. She produced a silver draka, which she’d liberated from a pimp on the way over. “I use the term friends loosely. I’m just curious why there are so many this far south.”

  His eyes shifted left to right before he swiped the coin. He finished wrapping the gyro and gave it to her. “They’ve increased in the last year. The crime families recruited dozens as enforcers. Now, the Signores are hiring them as caravan escorts and bodyguards.”

  Jie sucked on her lower lip. The unspoken armistice Prince Aryn had mentioned earlier looked to have been replaced by an arms race, with beefy Bovyan arms as the weapons of choice. Strange, however, since they were cogs in the Teleri war machine. With every necessity accounted for and no individual ambition, why would they need money? “How long ago were they here?”

  The vendor looked up at the Iridescent Moon, now waxing to its fourth crescent, just a few degrees from the dimming afternoon sun. “Not more than an hour or so ago.”

  Jie snickered. So the first thing the Bovyans did when coming ashore was eat. “So you know where they are staying?”

  “I hear they hang out over in the tavern district. Neutral ground.” He pointed up the road.

  A broad avenue cut across the road, serving as a clear barrier between the clean and orderly shops and crafts district, and the rowdy chaos of taverns and bawdy houses. On one side, ladies and gentlemen discussed the latest fashions and arts; while on the other, sailors mingled with prostitutes, negotiating terms. It was similar to the port city of Jiangkou, where she’d last served the clan. It felt almost nostalgic.

  Jie took a bite of the gyro. It was quite good, actually, the lamb more juicy and savory than the spicy sauces back home. She turned to her new friends. “Are you sure you want to expose your pureness to such a seedy environment, especially after dark? I can investigate myself.”

  Young Sameer clenched and unclenched his fists as he looked to Master Anish with puppy eyes. The boy was chomping at the bit to charge in and turn the place upside down. Given his fighting skill, he might very well succeed, even without his beloved sword. “I want to save Sohini.”

  “Wait.” Jie held up a hand. All this talk of saving Sohini…something didn’t add up. “I just watched you three dispatch fourteen men with ease. Just how could they possibly kidnap her?”

  Sameer favored her with the kind of smirk usually reserved for a dimwit. “Our martial reflexes engage when we perceive a threat. If they’d taken her by surprise, or drugged her with gooseweed…”

  Jie nodded. If she were going to try to take on a Paladin, she’d use a drug, too.

  “Or, if she faced someone with superior Bahaduur skills. A Golden Scorpion.” Sameer spoke the word as if it tasted like bitterroot tea. “Rumor has it a few have mastered the ability to block our Vibration-enhanced reflexes.”

  There was that word again, Bahaduur, which the Paladins used in lieu of Paladin at times. Jie searched his eyes. “What is a Golden Scorpion?”

  Anish’s measured tone sounded like a teacher explaining to a student: “People with our skills, sometimes even students or knights who abandoned our order, who were recruited by the aggressive kingdom of Madura.”

  Jie swallowed the last of the gyro. Before she’d embarked on her new mission a few weeks ago, she’d overheard spies from Cathay’s neighbor, Madura, planning an attack on an imperial wedding. With her information, the clan had thwarted that plot.

  “Because our powers are strongest around the pyramids,” Anish said, “these disaffected or unattached Bahaduur come here to find work. It was my job to investigate if Madura was recruiting Scorpions here.”

  “Did you find any evidence of it?” Jie asked.

  The master shook his head. “There are a few Maduran officials, possibly up to no go
od, but I never sensed a Golden Scorpion. I would have felt the aura.”

  Madura, operating here. Missing Paladins and Aksumi Mystics. A Mafia insurrection brewing. And Teleri spies with Black Lotus skills. A connection, maybe? She pointed her chin at the tavern district. “I’m going. You can follow me, if you want.”

  “I’m going with you.” Sameer squared his shoulders. He looked to the master. "With your permission, of course."

  “You may go,” Anish said. “I will stay as rear guard, and sense the Vibrations from here.”

  Sameer pressed his palms together and bowed his head. Then he trailed behind her as she crossed the street.

  The sound of drunken sailors echoed in the streets, while the musky scent of burning Ayuri gooseweed and alcohol fumes hung in the air. Light-bauble lanterns hung from lines between one- and two-story wood-and-stone row houses. Wooden signs hung over tavern doors, featuring such appealing names as the Buxom Lass and Pirate Booty. Outside of some stood men with black armbands marking them as the Signores’ peacekeepers; others were guarded by thugs dressed in the dark coats of the Mafia. The two groups eyed each other with simmering anger, but stayed on their respective sides.

  Though they lacked signs, several establishments were easily identified by the scantily dressed young women gathered near the entrances. They beckoned to passing men, some of whom stumbled into the buildings with little need of convincing.

  “There,” Sameer growled, pointing to the closest brothel. He started stomping over.

  Jie grabbed his wrist. “Easy, sailor. If you go charging over, their lips will close faster than their legs will spread.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

  His body went rigid.

  So… innocent. Jie smirked. “Relax. I’m not going to steal your virtue. Just follow along, and let me do the talking.”

  “Okay,” he grumbled. He bent his fingers into a curious shape, and allowed her to pull him toward the brothel.

  The three ladies of the night locked eyes on them. A blonde, in a blouse that revealed much more than it hid, beckoned. “Come, come, we are very happy to accommodate a couple in search of fun.”

  If Sameer’s arms and legs could stiffen anymore, he might be mistaken for an embalmed Levanthi corpse. He started to speak.

  Jie put a hand over his mouth. “My Ayuri friend is mute, and is very peculiar about his…appetites. He refuses to eat anything except home cooking.” She winked. “You wouldn’t happen to have dishes more to his taste?”

  “Curry?” A prostitute with exotic red hair and more surface area than her clothes laughed. “We can certainly dress up, if that is what he fancies.”

  Sameer flushed an interesting shade of red. Jie stepped on his slippered foot before he could say anything. She bowed her head in what was hopefully an Estomari cultural show of apology and not acquiescence. “Unfortunately, he is snobbish and only deigns to eat authentic Ayuri cuisine.”

  Turning her head away, the third woman tossed brown locks over her bare shoulder. “We don’t serve those dishes.”

  Jie produced a silver rupiya, borrowed from Sameer without his knowledge. All the women’s eyes locked in on it. She flipped it through her fingers. “If you can tell me where I might find such a delicacy...”

  The brunette reached for the coin. “The South Seas—”

  The redhead shook her head. “That’s Mafia-run. With all the trouble brewing, I’d avoid it. Now Signore De Lucca’s… Go two blocks down, make a right. Second building on your right. Look for the lion crest.”

  Puffing his chest out, Sameer started in the indicated direction.

  “Sorry, my friend can’t control his hunger.” Jie tugged him back, while pulling the rupiya just out of reach of the prostitute’s hand. “Aren’t you worried about tensions between the Mafia and the Signores affecting business?”

  While Sameer’s glare bore into her, the women laughed.

  The redhead winked. “Nothing loosens a man’s belt faster tonight than fear of death tomorrow.”

  Ignoring Sameer’s reddening face, Jie sent the coin dancing through her fingers. “One more question before we go. Can you tell me how often Bovyans come to this fine establishment?”

  The women looked among themselves, shrugging. The redhead lifted her chin to the silver piece. Jie flicked it in her direction.

  With what could only be practiced skill, the woman caught it in her cleavage. Jie’s stomach twisted in jealousy of the curves she lacked. In the corner of her eye, Sameer looked like he was about to faint. The redhead grinned at him before leaning forward and whispering, “They don’t come to our fine establishment.”

  “Except for the small guy with the scar.” The brunette drew a finger over her forehead.

  Jie sucked on her lower lip. Unless there was more than one small Bovyan with a scar on his forehead, she must’ve been referring to the man who’d led the attack on the Paladins and then disappeared into thin air.

  The redhead shook her head. “Yeah, but he visits all of the brothels. Word between the sheets is that none of the Teleri find their release around here, or even in the Mafia-held whorehouses.”

  Jie held up a hand. “I have it on good authority,” if a gyro vendor could be considered an authority on anything other than food, “that they frequent this area.”

  The blonde waved a finger in ever-broadening circles. “Signore De Lucca hires some to guard his houses, but his girls say they don’t entertain them.”

  Jie shuddered. Given the Bovyans’ reputations, it was hard to believe they wouldn’t jump at the opportunity.

  “What about Isabella?” The redhead nudged the brunette.

  The two others fell silent, their expressions darkening.

  “What happened to Isabella?” Jie looked from one to the other and held up another of Sameer’s silvers.

  Sameer stared at the coin and patted his pouch. He started to open his mouth, but frowned instead.

  The redhead pushed the coin away. “She came many years ago. An orphan girl that the mistress took in. There are too many in this city. She worked as a maid and learned from us. She would’ve started seeing clients weeks ago, but Signore De Lucca came and bought her contract.”

  Hot anger surged to the tip of Jie’s ears. Girls—many orphans like herself, or maybe sold by desperate parents—were already virtual slaves in the whorehouses. Meanwhile, men like this Signore De Lucca bought and sold them like chattel, getting rich at the cost of women’s bodies and dignities.

  The blonde sighed. “We asked around with some friends who work for Signore De Lucca, but no one’s heard from Isabella. They did say that Signore De Lucca has bought many trainee contracts from the pleasure houses, and even sent men out to the slums to recruit poor girls. None have ended up at his establishments.”

  Add finding Isabella to her to-do list. It might not be directly related to the Bovyan spymaster she was tracking, but orphans needed all the help they could get. The first step would be to visit the brothel where Sohini was last seen. Coincidentally, a place where Bovyans happened to be, and which Scarface frequented.

  Chapter 7:

  Disputed Lore

  Everything about this foreign city fascinated Brehane. In their rush to reach Cassius Larusso’s megalith circle before dusk, she hadn’t had time to truly appreciate it. Now, riding in the most wondrous open carriage, pulled by actual horses, she marveled as the city drifted by.

  Had she been walking on this late afternoon, she would’ve paused longer to admire the delightful mélange of colors that the people in this foreign city wore. Bright reds and yellows mixed with vibrant shades of purple she hadn’t imagined possible. Frills and shiny buttons adorned their loose shirts and dresses. The Estomari reputation as craftsmen was on full display.

  “It’s horribly showy, isn’t it?” Cassius’ breath tickled her ear.

  He lounged back in the red cushions of the seat, arms outstretched behind her on one side and Makeda on the other. Teacher Dawit sat across f
rom them, his lips undoubtedly pursed at the Diviner’s wanton display.

  Yes, Cassius was unabashed at his own loose morals. Brehane tore her attention away from the intriguing city around them and back to this intriguing man. The Resonance had sung when he’d read her palm. Her hand had tingled, as if affected by a lost Biomancy spell her clan matriarch could only describe, but not invoke. He’d even divined the name of Father, who no one ever named. Yes, there was much to learn from Cassius Larusso.

  No doubt Makeda had the same idea. How mortifying it would be if she rediscovered lost Biomancy spells first. She might’ve won in the Pyromancy ring; she wouldn’t win their duel for the Diviner’s body. Not when that dirty assama would use whatever power she gained to maintain the Pyromancers’ hegemony, at the expense of the Biomancers.

  Brehane studied Cassius’ beautiful eyes, and especially his blue Dragon Eye. No matter how brazen he might seem, it was undoubtedly just an act for attention. There’d been many classmates and teachers like that, who led young women on, only to shy away at the last minute. If Cassius indeed wanted to give up his seed, he certainly wouldn’t risk his reputation on both of them.

  Of course, the missing Melas had surrendered to her charms, as had several others. Testing his willingness, Brehane placed a hand on Cassius’ knee. Such a motion would make most men jolt back and demur. He froze. Perhaps the act had been too forward. Brehane’s chest tightened.

  Then he relaxed. His hand settled over hers, his fingers lacing between hers.

  The tension in her chest didn’t ease. No, now her heart hammered against its tight confines, and heat raced from her hand into her core. It was such an extreme sensation; more pronounced than the thrill of one-upping a malicious cousin.

  Makeda’s eyes darted to their intertwined hands before her glare settled on Brehane. Yet another loss for the dirty assama.