Shattered

by Stef M Ensing

  The last few days she had been back in the rotation, she had been guarding various merchants on her own. One merchant in particular – Juan Lien – had taken to hiring her as often as possible since the manticore attack and she was back with him today. He operated a very successful – likely because it was the only one – bookbinding business, selling and making ledgers as well as owning the only bookstore in the entire city. It was hardly a place many thieves would visit so her presence was for attraction purposes, which she was none too pleased about. On the plus side, she had gotten a free blank journal out of it, so she couldn’t complain too much.

  It had been a mostly uneventful day and Payton shifted in her position for the fiftieth time, trying to take the pressure off her ribs. There had been one attempted theft but it was very obvious the kid had only done it to try to see if he could get by “the manticore killer”. She convinced Juan not to press charges and sent the kid off with his tail between his legs. But as the day had stretched on, the more she became aware that her bruises were killing her. She would have to track down Atherly to see if he’d be willing to give her a discounted rate without any strings attached. It was beginning to get in the way of doing her job. Both of them.

  Jarrett spotted her across the market place immediately. He did not know why or how he found her amid the mass of people. It was not as if she stood out so drastically that all eyes – or at the very least his eyes – should be specifically drawn to her so instantly. But nonetheless, the moment he and Darcy entered the market and he did his habitual scan to spot the known troublemakers or scout out any potential problems, he had found her within moments. She was across the courtyard, leaning against a shop front. The woman from four nights ago. The one who had stood up against the slavers, against all offers of coin.

  He tried to ignore her presence.

  After all, he did not know her. He had a duty to do. He and Darcy were on the evening patrol today and would be watching as the shops closed and began sending people for the Vault run. Perfect moments for would-be thieves. It had been some time since someone had been successful in robbing a bankroll but that did not mean it could not happen. Most merchants hired protection if they could, just as an extra safety precaution. Others relied on the guard. Either way, they worked in tandem to keep the thieves down.

  But even as he tried to keep his attention on his work, his eyes drifted back to that woman. That enigma in a slender frame. Every time he thought he had rid himself of her, she crept back into his thoughts.

  He weighed the potential reasons why she might have acted the way she did that night against logic and came up short. He always came up short. Always felt like he was missing some key component. It drove him mad. He wanted to dismiss her from his thoughts. Accept that some people could be different the way Takara was different, that some people were honorable even when presented with situations where most would take at the expense of others. But unlike Takara – a woman whose life was a reflection of her character, her job as a guard showing her drive to fight for freedom and justice – this woman made no sense.

  “Payton,” the sound of his partner’s voice startled him. He looked sharply to the side only to realize they had reached the other end of the market place and slowed to a stop in front of the very woman who was plaguing his thoughts. And Darcy had greeted her like he knew her?

  “There’s that guardsman we all know and love,” she said warmly. “How’s the day treating you?”

  “Unremarkable. Which in our line of work is a good thing.”

  She laughed. It filled the air around them and almost felt like it lightened it. It was strange.

  Jarrett stared at her, studying her intently. A blackened eye and swollen cheekbone marred her face and those bruises only led down to a fat, split lip. If her face was that badly damaged it stood to reason the rest of her was as well.

  “…your brother that I’ll see him tomorrow,” Darcy finished.

  “I’m sure he’ll be delighted,” the woman said lightly. “He enjoys your company.”

  Jarrett watched as her comment made his partner’s face flush and the reaction brought forth that laugh again. “You were uninjured at the end of the fight.”

  The abrupt shift in conversation clearly surprised her and she blinked those large blue eyes at him. “You mean at the warehouse?” she questioned after a pause.

  He gave a sharp nod. Darcy grimaced. “You’ll have to forgive him. He’s not exactly skilled on the ways normal people interact.”

  He made a face at the man. He did not need Darcy apologizing for him.

  “I was not,” she answered slowly. A smile flickered across her face. “I’m amazed you have the ability to talk. After the other night, I was beginning to think all you could do was stare intently at a person.”

  Jarrett ignored her teasing dig at his behavior. He did not care how he was perceived. He was more curious about answering the nagging feeling that was twisting in the pit of his stomach. A hunch on how she had become so injured.

  “Were you in another altercation?”

  She tilted her head to the side, the evening sun catching the light splattering of freckles across her nose. “A disagreement with a colleague over who is appropriate to work with. It turned out to only be solvable with fists.”

  Jarrett frowned. It was not a direct confirmation but he was certain his instinct had been correct. She had been in a fight over her actions at the warehouse. And still, she seemed to hold no regrets. Who was this woman?

  “I should thank you both for stepping in. We weren’t exactly outnumbered but if you weren’t there I’d have had a hell of a time convincing my boss to take the merchant in. And when Foscari escaped… A couple of knights in shining armor you are.” She then squinted and looked at them. “Well, Darcy is. You’re more of a… knight in dark tinted armor. Why is yours darker? Are you a higher rank or something?”

  Jarrett glanced down at his dark steel armor and then back up. “No.”

  “Loquacious man, aren’t you?” she teased after a moment of silence she had apparently expected him to fill.

  “He helps Takara train us. Gives him a different distinction without an actual rank,” Darcy supplied.

  Jarrett was surprised to see those blue eyes light up in excitement.

  “Were you the one who set up that amazing training field?” she asked. When he slowly nodded a brilliant grin burst across her lips. “That thing is a work of genius! I could train there all day and never get bored. You cover all the bases and even some I had never even thought of. I mean, climbing walls, crates and barrels, and then the terrain changes: slick ground, sandy ground, that patch of grass. How on Airelle did you think of all that?”

  “It was how I was trained.”

  “You must be one of the best fighters in the guard.”

  Darcy laughed. “He is. But don’t tell him that. Some people think it goes to his head, that’s why he barely talks to anyone.”

  The woman was giving him an appraising look as though she could read him just by his outward appearance. He hated people who did that. Judging things by—“Nope. I don’t think that’s it at all.”

  “What?” both he and Darcy spoke at once.

  “I don’t think he’s full of himself. He doesn’t have that air about him. Come on, Darcy, you know what I mean. That…” she mimicked the snooty act a few of the guards and most of the rich in Uptown often had. “He’s not like that at all.”

  “And what am I like?” Jarrett asked, curious what this perfect stranger apparently thought of him. He had never cared what people thought of him before. Damned what they all thought. It was him against them after all but for some reason, she still drew him in, tugged on his thoughts and intrigued him.

  “You observe. You’re a watcher. You watch people. You want to figure them out. And people often have the habit of being stupid so why bother with them. That’s why you keep your distance.”

  “Interesting assessment.”

  “But y
ou’re not going to say if I’m right or wrong?” This seemed to amuse her. So he did not answer. He was rewarded with another one of her laughs. “Alright then. How about this: how long have you been with the guard, mystery man?”

  It was fairly innocuous information. No harm in her knowing. “Almost two years.”

  “And you rose through the ranks quickly enough to be allowed to design their grounds?”

  “They reward skill,” he said curtly. As if he would have taken handouts or special treatment. The fact Estaria and specifically Imeryn functioned on skill and not wealth or power to the best of its ability was something he valued about living here.

  “So I’ve heard.” She squinted her eyes as though she were thinking hard. “What were you doing before you became a guard?”

  Of course, her questions would lead here. His brow pulled down at the memories that were stirred. “Running.”

  “Running?” she repeated. He would give no further answer. “I’ll take a wild stab that means you’re not from here?” At Darcy’s shake of the head, she quirked her lips to the side and made a humming sound. “Hmm. What’s home then? Where are you from?”

  “Nowhere.”

  He had no past home. He wasn’t even sure he’d call this place a current one. It was a sanctuary. A safe harbor. He was not certain what a home would feel like. Something he did not expect filled those striking blue eyes. Understanding and sympathy. Why? Once more that damned question came forth: who was this woman?

  “Master of the one-word answers,” she said it like it was something that should be marveled at. Like he wasn’t purposefully being short to avoid the details that would come with questions like hers.

  “How long have you been a mercenary?” he reflected the question back to her.

  She laughed. “A month and a half. Before that, I was a dock worker.”

  “And before that?”

  She stilled, the smile dropping ever so slightly, the light fading from her eyes. “Running.”

  Movement behind her caused her to look back. The shopkeeper was coming forward, the lockbox secured by a shoulder strap around him, the key to his store in hand. Payton turned back to them and any hint of whatever emotion had overtaken her just seconds before vanished and she was smiling again.

  “Looks like we’ll have to postpone this interrogation for a later date. Time for me to work. But I’ll get answers out of you yet,” she teased.

  He watched her as she began to walk away, uncertain how he felt about her words. Uncertain how he felt about the whole thing. It was only when she made it halfway down the street and she suddenly stopped that he began to realize that his desire to understand her was nowhere near sated.

  “Tomorrow night, any time after eleven bells. The Pissed Pegasus,” she called back to him. “A couple of friends and I play cards for peanuts and drinks. It’s fun. You should come.”

  She was inviting him out? She had only just met him.

  “Think about it, mystery man.” She was flashing him another one of those smiles that – even though her lip was swollen – brightened her face. “Takara will be there if it makes you feel better. It won’t all be low-lives like me.” And with that she pivoted and hurried off with her client, intent on making the Vault drop.

  Jarrett stared after her. Who was this woman?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “So you don’t even know who this man is and you invited him to our game night?” Nyla asked as they divided up the pile of peanuts meant to be used for ante.

  “I know he’s a guard,” Payton said defensively.

  Nyla turned to Takara expectantly but the woman shot her an incredulous look. “You realize there are over a hundred guards in this city right? You want us to go through their descriptions one at a time until we luckily land on the right one?”

  “Yes,” the redhead said excitedly.

  “No,” Takara said firmly.

  Now it was Payton’s turn to laugh.

  “Ooh, I want to know the thing that is funny. Tell me the funny thing,” Atherly’s said like a chipper child as he entered the room.

  “We were laughing at your hair. When was the last time you brushed it?” Payton tugged on it as though to pull something out. “I think there’s straw in it.”

  He danced out of her reach. “That’s my hair color, you brat. But I have other things you can pull on if you like.” He wagged his brow at her suggestively only to stop when he got a good look at her. “Creators, what happened to you?”

  “Ran myself repeatedly into Brisen’s fists on account of a job disagreement. Stop giving me that look, I’m fine.” Payton huffed when all three of them squinted at her as if to assess her for truth. “Really! If you don’t believe me, I’ll punch you and you can see I’m in tip-top shape.”

  “I’m not sure that’s an accurate measuring stick,” Takara said wearily.

  “Better than whatever Atherly would suggest,” Payton replied.

  Atherly opened his mouth to object only to close it and nod in agreement. “Fair enough,” he said as he took his seat.

  “Well, now that you’re all here – well most of us. Your brothers did choose a bad day to get a job and be busy.”

  “Why are you looking at me as if it is my fault? Talk to them about missing game night. I’m not their keeper.”

  “And now that we’re done debating Payton’s ability to turn multicolored…” Nyla announced, waving her hand at the bruises.

  “I think this group has serious issues,” Takara added.

  “I have something I wanted to talk to you about.” Nyla was anxiously twisting peanuts in her hand, breaking the shells.

  “You’re going to ruin half our chips if you aren’t careful. If it’s a three-way you want, I’m sure Payton would love to join us,” Atherly said with a grin.

  “I do not want to be volunteered for sex acts.”

  “Anyway,” Nyla pressed on. She pulled something out and flattened it on the table. It looked to be an old city map in multiple layers. “I have a job… well, it’s more of an idea for a job.”

  “What is this city?” Payton asked leaning in closer to try to get a better understanding of what she’s looking at.

  Takara was the first to figure it out. “Creators, is this—this is Kydessa, isn’t it?”

  Nyla nodded. “Some idiot drunkard lost it to me on a bar bet and then up and died the next day.”

  “That’s why you wanted to know the laws about being bequeathed something?” Takara exclaimed.

  “Yeah,” she said defensively. “I won it fair and square. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything with it.”

  Takara groaned. “The headaches you give me, woman.”

  “Look at this. The size of the Temple of the Triad. And the pantheon of gardens carved out in the center of the city for new life. There’s an entire separate spire just for the sages,” Atherly gushed. “It was said that they held the knowledge of the healers. That they could teach that magic to mages. That it didn’t have to come naturally before the cataclysm.”

  “They say a lot of things,” Takara muttered.

  “The thing I wanted to talk to you about is this…” Nyla lifted the map up to the section below the main city. It was a blueprint of the inner parts of the city. “It took me a bit to comprehend it all but these are the Vaults. Dozens of them, some in private homes and then there is the primary one at the edge of town said to go so deep it touches the tip of the Kiylarn Mountains.”

  “You want to go there,” Payton surmised.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you insane?” Takara asked after a moment of silence. “The continent of Calaphine is a death trap. Nevermind the passage.”

  “She has a point, Nyla. You could get lost in the Fields of Shards forever. Every ship that has tried to go back there has been lost in the iceberg graveyard between us and Calaphine!” Atherly pointed out.

  Nyla tugged another map to the surface.

  “Oh bloody hell.” The blond
slapped a hand to his forehead.

  “Where did this guy get a map of the shards?” Payton exclaimed as she pulled it over.

  “I think he had been plotting a path through for years. It’s my only guess. See the erased marks. He kept trying over and over to find a path through the icebergs until... well…” Nyla shrugged and gestured at the bolded line on the map. Payton leaned forward to study it.

  “No, no. Don’t get pulled in by this!” Atherly waved his hand in front of Payton’s face to distract her.

  “Atherly,” Nyla tried but he continued anyway.

  “I’ve told you before this idea is madness, Nyla. The entire continent is covered in ice and is cold enough to give you frostbite from exposure. There’s no food anymore. No water because all of it is frozen. No one to help you because everyone there is dead. Except the monsters, of course. Let’s not even get started on the monsters that live on the land. Echoes, sabretooths, dragons, phoenixes, wyverns… are you suicidal? Because there are easier ways to kill yourself if you are,” Atherly listed.

  “Stop being an ass,” Nyla snapped, throwing a peanut at him. It bounced off his forehead. “It’s not as if I hadn’t thought this through. I wouldn’t be going alone. I’d bring protection.”

  That was when the other boot dropped. “Me? You want to bring me?” Payton said in surprise.

  “Who else?”

  Payton tried to wrap her mind around it.

  “I’m not just looking for hired muscle, I want you as a partner. You would help me finance the trip, protect the investment while out there, and we would split all the profits. Fifty-fifty,” Nyla explained quickly.

  Payton exhaled. Creators, her head was beginning to spin. “Nyla, you know I don’t have that kind of money. We’re stuck living on charity with my dad’s scummy friend. All our earnings go to food or saving for a house.”