by Alex Lang
“It seems harm is all I have experienced since meeting the man.”
She gave an apologetic grimace. “Give him a chance, I think you’ll find working with us… agreeable.” Ellse turned back to the wall.
Kyris opened his mouth to say that in his new arrangement with Caldir, he would most definitely be working alone, but the words caught as Ellse pushed on a wooden panel, identical to all the others that lined the room, and it flipped up to reveal a small compartment with a lever. She pulled it, and a section of the back-wall shifted inward, then slid aside on tracks.
She smiled and gestured towards the opening with her head. Without waiting for a reply, she stepped through, quickly disappearing down a flight of stairs.
Kyris hesitated, tired of the games, of being led around, but in the end, curiosity won out. He stepped through the hidden doorway and stood at the top of the landing of a long, well-lit staircase. The air was cold and musty smelling… and familiar. He realized then where he was, that he had been here once before.
“You coming?” Ellse called up from halfway down.
Shaking his head, he rushed to catch up. “It was here? Underneath a tailor’s shop in Halcyon the whole time?” He laughed.
“Well, it certainly hasn’t moved.” She waited until he was a step above her, then said, “As both an apology and a show of trust, Caldir has asked me to show you this.”
Kyris nodded in understanding. This truly was a remarkable secret, and to be entrusted with such… He felt both honored and troubled. He and Caldir had an arrangement. Kyris wanted no loyalty to or from Caldir beyond that.
They continued down, traveled through the stone corridor, once again passing the intersecting halls.
“Are we going to the arena?” Kyris asked.
“I thought we might do a little sparring while we wait,” Ellse said with a sly smile.
“Don’t hold back. Fight me with everything you have,” Ellse said as she bounced back out of reach.
“Who says I’m not?” They’d both chosen wooden longswords and wore the padded armor this time. He was fighting with his off hand as his right was still stiff and achy, though it was feeling better by the day. That a gnarled lump of flesh could be restored to a fully working hand was still a marvel to Kyris. It gave him renewed hope for Jahna every time he looked at it.
Kyris lunged after Ellse. She jabbed. He parried, then riposted. Back and forth they danced, working up a sheen of sweat, their enjoyment obvious. He hadn’t sparred in such a manner, without worry or care, in years.
Ellse was skilled, there was no doubt, but it was her speed that was truly amazing. In examination of their first match, the result had been decided when he’d chosen not to use a spear, giving her the advantage of reach. That in combination with her agility meant victory was all but impossible unless Shar herself placed a wager on him, or he decided to use his ability. Now that they both sparred with wooden swords, he was doing better, though he hadn’t yet managed to score a hit. In studying her form, Kyris was convinced he was more skilled with a blade. If only his right hand were in better condition, he could prove more of a challenge.
Ellse arched and snaked her blade around his attempt to block, smacking him in the arm. She danced back, but he didn’t go after her. Instead, he rubbed his arm.
She grinned at him again, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Shaking his head in self-reproach, Kyris renewed his attacks.
“You’re not using your ability,” she said.
Kyris stopped. “It’s not… it’s not something I would just do in a sparring match.”
She cocked her brow in question.
“You’re a scion, as well, aren’t you?” Kyris asked. It was a guess, but her expression confirmed it. Though she hadn’t displayed her gift yet, there was something about the way she moved and fought, an utter confidence that she could handle whatever she faced. It wasn’t too dissimilar to how he must appear, he realized. For him, it was his skill, certainly, but also the knowledge that he had a hidden weapon that most could not account for. So, what was her hidden weapon?
“What god do you call an ancestor?” he prompted.
Ellse seemed to consider the question. “You first. Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.” She flashed the mischievous smile he was coming to recognize as her trademark.
Kyris gave her a small frown. There was no doubt she had spoken with Caldir and knew that he had no real knowledge as to the source of his ability, and he said as much.
“Well, when you find out and tell me, then I will tell you. A fair exchange.” She came at him in a flurry of strikes. The smile never left her face as she attacked, and Kyris found he very much liked the look of it.
Who was this woman? He knew nearly nothing about her. It’d been less than a week since they’d met. Of the three interactions they’d had, two involved fighting each other, and in the third she had been part of a grand deception. Despite all that…
A light slap of Ellse's wooden sword against his leg brought Kyris back to the present.
“If you aren’t going to even try, then maybe you should spar with the boys, instead. They’re eager for another go.”
Caldir entered the chamber then. “Ah, Kyris. Sorry to keep you waiting. Don’t let me interrupt,” he said, walking up.
“Not at all. I think we’re done here,” Ellse replied in an airy tone, heading for the weapons rack.
She meant it in jest, he knew. Nevertheless, it stung his pride to be dismissed so.
Caldir cleared his throat. “Kyris, I asked you here to discuss your first task, but since we are here, perhaps I can get a demonstration. Of your ability, I mean.”
Ellse stopped and looked back at him, waiting for his answer.
“This wasn’t part of the bargain,” he replied.
“Yes, that is true. However, the more I know of your capabilities, the more appropriately I can present tasks to you.”
Kyris looked from Caldir to Ellse. He suspected all this had been arranged, yet again, and it stirred an anger in him.
“Very well, a short demonstration, then.” He turned to Ellse and dropped into a fighting stance.
She was surprised but quickly smiled, bringing up her sword.
Kyris didn’t need to spar in order to show his ability. He could have just stood there and vanished to their eyes, but it would be good for them to see him using it in a practical sense. At least, that was what he told himself.
Ellse hadn’t displayed any godblood abilities during their fight, but he hadn’t really given her any reason to. Prior to Alderin, he had only fought a few Allithorans; keepers and inquisitors. One other regrettable incident in the fighting pit with a beastman, and that was the extent of his experience with scions. She could be another outcast like Sandamar. If he pressed her hard enough, would she blast him with air like a windstrider? What if she was an outcast of the Path? Somehow he didn’t think that would be the case. Well, if they’d sought to draw out his ability by driving him to desperation, then he could do the same. It’s only fair, he reasoned.
“Perhaps I can discover your ability this time,” he teased.
They clashed again, filling the chamber with the clack of their wooden swords. Kyris gave it his all. There were no playful back-and-forths or half swings this time. His attacks were full force and relentless.
As much as the Gloom disturbed him, Kyris could not deny it was part of him. The presence of it was always there, and stepping through, though an exertion, was as natural as running or jumping. And despite the dangers, there was still the desire to utilize it, to take full advantage of the time he had before the wraiths appeared. It was his small measure of control over his ability.
It was time he showed them what he could do.
Ellse parried a thrust, and her counterattack would have struck him if he had still been there. Within the Gloom, he ran through her shadow-form, ducked low, and switched the sword to his right hand before shifting out, appearing in a crouch behind her. He
twirled with the sword swinging out and caught Ellse in the leg as she leaped back.
The impact caused his hand to throb, but he pressed through it. He couldn’t give her time to recover.
Kyris shifted again and waited a breath as Ellse turned around, expecting another attack from behind. He shifted back to the exact same spot and jabbed her in the shoulder, then he was gone again.
The fear permeated, he knew, and with so back and forth, there was no arrest to the flow of the dread. It was affecting her. She was disoriented, and Kyris took full advantage.
Kyris quickly scored a hit on her thigh and had her retreating. She ducked, weaved, and parried but was given no opportunity to retaliate. He either kept up a relentless pressure or disappeared, leaving her no opponent to fight. She struggled under his erratic barrage, and a frenzied panic was clear on her face; her eyes darted around, seeming brighter like amber in the light, and she flashed her teeth in a grimace. Kyris prepared himself for something to happen… But nothing extraordinary did. Even now, Ellse wouldn’t reveal her secret.
Kyris pressed ever harder, continuing to use the Gloom as he attacked. Never had shifted so much, in such a short amount of time. As he intensified his efforts, a fury arose in him. The Gloom induced fear was affecting him, also, and his vision closed in. Kyris attacked with a ferocity drawn from deep within, having nothing to do with the here and now, or Ellse and their previous fights. He was no longer facing Ellse but the inquisitor, the one he sought. This was a fight he had imagined countless times, ever since Baaz had taught him how to hold a weapon.
Kyris batted aside Ellse’s wooden blade and, with a twist of his wrist, flicked his sword upwards, the dulled blade catching her in the jaw. Her head snapped to the side, and she collapsed to the ground.
His fury drained, and he tried to rush to her aid but instead fell to a knee, the exertion of it all catching up with him. He felt lightheaded, and a sharp, piercing ache was growing in the back of his skull.
Caldir reached Ellse’s side, but she was already getting up. The blow had been solid and Kyris feared that her jaw might be broken, but she simply waved the man off before spitting blood on the sand-covered ground. She was trembling, and there was anger in her eyes. Kyris had an immediate urge to apologize, but he bit it back.
“Are you all right? I was… just trying to draw you out. I don’t suppose you’re a fleshmender, also?”
At this, Ellse gave a terse laugh and seemed to compose herself. “No. It’s fine, Kyris. It’s no more than what I did to you. Less, in truth.”
“That wasn’t my intent.”
She arched a brow. “No?”
He had nothing to say.
“That was… truly astonishing,” Caldir said, eying him with new appreciation, it seemed.
Despite the words, Kyris could detect concern in Caldir’s expression.
“I’ll leave you two to your discussion,” Ellse said, walking away as she gingerly felt her jaw.
Kyris watched her go, and the worry on his face must have been evident.
“Ellse has a warrior’s heart, and no warrior enjoys defeat. But she will not be upset for long,” Caldir said.
Kyris wanted to explain himself but again held back. He had done nothing wrong, he reasoned. Nothing Caldir and Ellse hadn’t done to him a couple of days prior.
Kyris realized, like her, he had failed to draw out her ability. Why would she not use it? Maybe he’d been wrong and she wasn’t a scion. Or like him, she felt it important enough not to reveal.
Once Ellse had left the chamber, Caldir started with the questions. “Kyris, what exactly occurs when you vanish? Is it a visual effect or something more? And why is it—”
“Caldir,” Kyris interrupted. He knew what Caldir was going to ask; why it felt as if a naked blade was poised to drop whenever he disappeared.
That was a question he wasn’t willing to answer, nor did he truly know the reason for it. There was so much he didn’t know, and though a part of him wanted to reveal everything he did to see how Caldir would react, to see if the man could offer some insights, there was too much at stake. He couldn’t risk scaring Caldir off at this point.
“I performed as you asked. Can we proceed to the reason why I am here, the first task?”
Caldir pressed his lips into a tight smile that did little to hide his disappointment. “Very well. However, since I am not fully aware of your full capabilities, I will not know if a presented task is within your scope.”
“Present your task. In addition to my godblood gift, I think you’ll find I’m rather resourceful.”
Caldir stared at him for a moment before speaking. “Yes, of course. The first task is the retrieval of a book. Well, a ledger, to be more precise.”
Kyris waited to hear more. It couldn’t possibility be a simple theft.
“The person in possession of this ledger is named Gilvys of House Lasterri.”
It was Kyris’ turn to try to hide his disappointment. Stealing from a highborn again, he lamented. Hopefully, this attempt would yield less bloody results.
“He is an assistant of sorts,” Caldir continued, “to one of the leaders of the Artificers of Falduin. You have heard of them, yes?”
“Who hasn’t of late? The miracle torches of Allithor, bringing the light to every corner of the Imperium. Do you know where the ledger is?”
Caldir smiled. “Yes, and no. The ledger is wherever Gilvys is, as he has it on his person at all times.”
Kyris nodded. A bit more complicated, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “Where does he live? I’ll get the ledger when he sleeps.”
“That would seem the most reasonable time to perform such a theft, but Gilvys resides high upon the Bluff.”
“How high?”
“The very pinnacle, I’m afraid. Within the grounds of the White Citadel.”
Kyris balked at this. “Who is this man that he would live in the Citadel?”
“It is not so much who he is but who his master is. House Lasterri is a minor house of little influence. As I said, he is a simple assistant, a scribe. As for the Citadel, well, by your own words you were recently there. I'm sure it won’t be difficult to make a repeat visit.”
It would be very difficult, Kyris knew, but he kept his mouth shut. “There are some additional conditions I am afraid I must impose upon you.”
“Such as?”
“No harm must come to Gilvys.” Then giving it some thought, “Well, no permanent harm, in any case. And he must not be aware of the theft.”
“Wait. You want me to steal the ledger off his person without hurting him, and he can’t know that it has been stolen?”
“Yes, precisely.”
Kyris’ mouth dropped open. “That’s impossible.” Was Caldir was doing this on purpose because of his earlier boast?
Caldir held up a hand, ready to placate him. “Now, it is not my place to make presumptions. As you said and per our agreement, you will let me know if you can accomplish this task. This ledger is something I want, and this problem is what I am presenting to you. However, I am not unreasonable. I have given this particular hurdle some thought, and I believe if you could obtain the ledger for a brief amount of time, then that would suffice. I will have a great many scribes ready to copy the content of the ledger. It should not take more than a few hours with the work so divided. After they are done, the ledger can be returned without anyone being the wiser.”
“Does he have a routine or habits?”
“Yes, although it does vary. Often time he will be in the company of his master. Whilst other times, he will be off on errands throughout the city to the various artificer facilities and holdings, of which there are many.”
Kyris stared off at the bronze doors behind Caldir, considering the information. “Is he guarded?”
“Yes. Two personal guardsmen are with him at all times, except when he’s with his master. Then there are far more guardsmen.”
“Does he frequent any taverns regularly? The
arenas? Brothels?”
“No.”
“Does he have a lover or any other companions?” Kyris didn’t want to make another visit to the Citadel. He didn’t shy away from killing keepers but to go within their stronghold… It had been a reckless endeavor the first time, even for him, and despite what Jahna said, he did learn from past blunders.
“I can supply you with all the information that has been gathered on him, as he has been under watch for quite some time,” Caldir answered. “Speak with Adar, he’ll better inform you of Gilvys’ daily routine. It might be best if you accompanied him along on one of his outings.”
“What is in this ledger?”
“It is knowledge not necessary to the task at hand, but in the interest of establishing trust…” Caldir let the pointed silence hang before continuing. “Gilvys of Lasterri is also an accountant and record keeper for the artificers. Certainly not the only one but one with key information. Over the years, I have attempted to learn more of the Artificers of Falduin’s business and operations, but I have only been able to get fragments, pieces of the whole. I believe that Gilvys is the key to solving the puzzle, or rather, his ledger is. If they were to discover that it was missing, then I believe they would take steps to further obfuscate their activities, making what little I have been able to learn so far useless.”
“I see.” Kyris didn’t know what he had been expecting from these tasks, but it seemed in the end it was as it ever was: about money. “May I have some time to think on this?”
“Of course. As I suggested, talk to Adar, then let me know what you decide.”
Chapter Seventeen
“There. That’s him in the blue,” Adar said.
Kyris stretched and discreetly glanced behind at the traffic coming out of the Strider’s gate from Old City. Caldir’s description of Gilvys had been accurate. A bespectacled man with a weak chin and plain features. He had lanky limbs and was tall, though a slouch-shouldered aspect countered his height somewhat. He wore a finely tailored long-tunic of sky blue and white with House and other emblems stitched upon the breast, and an outer robe of darker blue flared open as he walked. Slung over his shoulder was a brown satchel. Two armsmen carrying swords and clothed in black leather over mail followed close behind.
