How could you know? You haven’t even given him a chance to try.
She knew Leomin wouldn’t understand her nightly outings because, in truth, she hardly understood them herself. She knew only that here, in the darkness, she felt more at peace than anywhere else. Perhaps it was because she had spent so much of her life hunting monsters, surrounded by them, that she had grown accustomed to it. Had, in some strange way, become dependent on it. Perhaps by vanquishing the monsters of the world, some part of her thought that she might somehow vanquish those demons—fear, shame, and anger chief among them—that warred within her own soul. All she knew for sure was that here, in the darkness, with the monsters gathered around her, the questions that plagued her in the daylight, the voices that asked, demanded to know who she was, what she was, grew silent. For whatever else it was, the world of monsters was a simple one—kill or be killed—and the one who walked away was the one with the sharpest teeth, the quickest claws.
She heard the footsteps a moment before she saw the two shadowy figures emerge from the end of the alley. “Well, hi there,” one said, and though Seline couldn’t see his face, she could hear the pleasure in his tone.
A quick glance behind showed that the two following her had stopped no more than a dozen paces away. Four men in all, each of them ready for violence. Another person might have felt fear, perhaps even terror, but Seline felt only relief as all her uncertainties and worries vanished at the approach of the impending fight. “Hello.”
“Someone told me,” the man who’d spoken went on, “that you’ve been asking after those as followed Grinner. That right?”
“Everybody’s asking after them,” Seline said in what she hoped was a fearful tone. “They’re wanted by the guard for conspiring against the city.”
“That right?” the man asked, laughing. “And what are you then, some loyal citizen trying to help out?”
“Yes,” Seline answered, drawing the blade hidden inside her tunic. “Something like that.”
The man laughed again. “What do you mean to do with that then? Butter my bread for me? Well,” he said in a voice full of feigned regret, “you should have stayed inside tonight, lass, and you should have kept your questions to yourself. Don’t you know bad men come out in the darkness?”
Seline smiled as she glanced over her shoulder where the two from behind her were creeping closer. “Yes. I was counting on it.”
***
She emerged from the alleyway minutes later, replacing the blade in its hidden sheath and glancing around the street. Normally, there would have been at least a few people about, even at this hour, but the recent troubles had apparently made the city’s citizens decide to stay inside, and she couldn’t blame them. Had she not known better, Seline would have thought she journeyed through some ghost city, a place in which all the inhabitants had left or, more likely, died.
No merchants shouted out their wares, no prostitutes hung out the windows of the brothels she passed. Even the beggars, it seemed, had found some place to shelter—or more correctly, perhaps, hide—for the evening. She was alone with herself and the silence, and the bodies littering the alley behind her. And in that silence, her thoughts began to drift once more, the questions and uncertainties that the encounter with Grinner’s men had quelled coming back, slowly at first, in little more than whispers, but growing in volume and insistence with each passing moment.
Frustrated and looking for anything to distract herself, she caught sight of a slight movement disappearing down an alleyway far along the street ahead of her. Grateful for the distraction, Seline called on the power of her Virtue and traveled the few hundred feet in a blur, standing in the alley mouth a moment later and watching the figure hurrying away.
You should leave it, Davin said. I’m sure it’s nothing and, even if it isn’t, don’t you think you’ve pushed your luck enough for one evening? Besides, you need to get some rest—you’re tired. You know it as well as I.
Seline was tired, exhausted really, for tonight was not the first one she’d spent out in the darkness, searching for Grinner’s men. But she also knew that if she tried to sleep, the questions and uncertainties rolling around in her head—Who am I? Without my father to hunt down, who am I?—demanding an answer, louder and louder until she could scream, would keep her from it.
You can’t go on like this, the Virtue said. You must talk to someone—to Leomin, at least. No matter what your fears are—and do not pretend you do not have them—he will understand. However tall you have built the walls that surround you, Seline, they can be knocked down and he, I think, would love nothing more than to help you do it. If only you would let him.
And I will let him, damn you, she thought back. Only…not tonight. Tonight, she would follow the figure moving through the darkness. After all, the questions would still be there, waiting, come the morning.
Yes, the Virtue said, but if you continue the way you have been, sooner or later, you won’t be.
Seline ignored that, following after the figure, ready to draw her blade once more should he—or she, for in the darkness there was no way to tell for certain—turn and accost her. But the figure only walked on, and so she trailed after for nearly fifteen minutes. She had just begun to convince herself that the figure’s errand must surely be nothing of note—an unsatisfied husband visiting his mistress, likelier than not—when she followed the figure around a corner and saw him walk up to a group of three or four others huddled in the dark mouth of an alley.
They’re probably just meeting for a hand of cards, the Virtue said, though from his tone Seline could tell even he wasn’t wholly convinced. Or, maybe, they plan to go to a tavern and have a drink. There’s nothing to say that they’re criminals.
Nothing, of course, except that even in the darkness, Seline was able to make out the knife one of them held.
And even if they are criminals, Davin went on, a desperation to his tone now, we have more important things to be about. It’s not as if you can kill every criminal in the city. What you need to be doing is preparing for the march to Baresh. You’ll do no one any good—including Leomin, mind—if when we go there you are too exhausted to be of any use.
Well, Seline thought back, call it practice, if you like, but I’m going to see what they’re up to.
Practice? the Virtue asked. How in the name of the gods is this practice?
You’re always telling me I need to work on growing the power of the bond, Davin. It seems to me there’s no better teacher than experience. The Virtue said something in response, but she wasn’t listening, and she started down the street, a grim smile on her face.
***
“I’m just saying it’s a dumb idea, that’s all.”
“So you’ve mentioned once or twice,” Urek said, narrowing his eyes at Beautiful. “And while we’ve spent hours standin’ out here jawin’ times been wastin’. Light’s only a few hours away, so unless someone has a better idea?”
“Sure,” the woman responded, and if she noticed Urek’s frayed patience, she apparently wasn’t concerned. “Why not just have Shadow here cut your throat with one of those knives he carries? I doubt it would hurt as much as what those guards are going to do to you, and either way it’ll save you the walk.”
Urek scowled at the thickly-muscled woman. “I mean does anybody have any ideas that don’t start with me dyin’?”
“Funny,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and glaring back at him, “that’s the only sort of ideas my mind keeps comin’ up with, just now.”
“Boss, no offense,” Shadow said, pausing in trimming his nails with one of his blades to glance up, “but the plan’s shit.”
“Damnit,” Urek growled, “am I the boss or not?”
“Of course you are,” the man said.
“T-that’s right,” Osirn blurted. “Y-you’re the boss, err…boss.”
“At least for now,” Beautiful said. “I imagine once you’ve tried your plan out, we’ll be having to elect a ne
w one quickly enough. But don’t worry, Urek, I don’t think you’ll mind—you’ll be dead, after all.”
Urek gritted his teeth. “And what about you, Shits? What’s your thoughts on the matter?”
“My thoughts?” the man asked, blinking. “Well, it’s damned cold out here, that’s my thoughts. Gods, but how these northerners choose to live here, I’ll never know.”
Urek stared at the man, giving some serious consideration to what he’d look like with a black eye and what the most enjoyable way of finding that out might be, when Shadow let out a hiss of surprise and warning, hefting his blade as if preparing to throw it.
Urek spun, his hand going for the sword at his side, sure the guards had decided maybe they had room in the dungeons, after all, and was surprised to see a lone figure walking up. She was cloaked in the shadows of the night, and he could make out none of her features, but there was no doubt she was a woman. “Act natural,” he hissed in a voice low enough for only the others to hear.
“Hi there,” he said, trying on his best grin.
“Funny,” the woman said, drawing closer, and as she did Urek saw that she was smiling. “That’s the second time someone’s said that to me tonight. I wonder, is there a manual all you criminals read?”
“Criminals?” he asked, incredulous. “Oh, no ma’am. Not criminals, us. Only some friends having a late night is all.” He tried a laugh, and immediately regretted it once he heard how forced it sounded. “Leastways, we ain’t criminals unless there’s a new law bannin’ fun.”
She only continued to stare at him, and he cleared his throat. “What uh…if you don’t mind me askin’, what would make you think a thing like that? You know, crazy as it is.”
“Well,” the woman drawled, “there are a few things, really. First, there’s the fellow standing behind you there holding a knife, and he looks a mite too comfortable with it, if you ask me.”
Urek frowned, turning around to see that Shadow had gone back to trimming his nails with his blade. The hawk-nosed man glanced up at him questioningly, as if he had no idea what he’d done to merit such a scowl.
“I told you to act natural,” Urek mouthed.
“T-to be fair, boss,” Osirn volunteered, “that is p-p-pretty natural. I mean…that is…for Shadow.”
“Hmm,” the woman said. “A knife, a man referred to as ‘boss,’ and another called ‘Shadow.’ Sure do sound like criminals.”
Urek stared at the woman, suddenly unable to think of anything to say. She only stared back in silence, the small grin still in place. After a moment, he gave a grunt of recognition. “Hey, wait a minute. Ain’t you the Parnen’s?”
The woman’s grin faded in an instant. “I’m not a cow or a sheep, criminal, nor am I a porcelain vase to be set on a shelf and admired. Nobody owns me. Now, why don’t you tell me what you and your…companions are doing out here so late at night? Or should I call the guards and see if you’ll be able to come up with a better story for Queen Adina?”
Urek sputtered at the ridiculousness of it all. Here he was, standing in the middle of the street, being accosted for a crime he hadn’t even committed yet, when the gods knew he’d gotten away with plenty in his time. What’s more, the woman was threatening him with the very same person who had sent him out here to begin with.
“O-oh, we don’t want to make the queen mad, lady,” Osirn blurted. “That’s the last thing we want to do. After all, it was her as sent us. Tell her, Urek.”
“What the fuck, boy?” Urek said, turning and staring at the youth who wilted under his glare. Wincing, he turned back to the woman. “I wouldn’t pay him no mind—the boy ain’t completely right in the head. A born liar, and not a good one.”
“Not as bad as you at any rate…Urek, is it?” She frowned. “Wait a minute—I’ve heard that name before.” Her eyes widened. “You’re the one who took over for Hale, aren’t you?”
Urek considered lying, but thought they were past such conveniences now, so he only sighed. “I reckon so, gods help me.”
The woman nodded slowly, glancing around the street. “Alright. I think you’d best tell me what you all are doing out here, and what mission the queen’s given you.”
Urek spared another glare for the youth, then he told her about his meeting with the queen, about councilman Arkrest, and his plan. The woman listened in silence until he was finished, and he breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be done with telling the story at any rate. If somebody would have told him that becoming the boss meant he would have to do so much talking, he would have stabbed the first bastard who suggested it.
“So the queen believes this councilman Arkrest is a traitor then?” the woman asked.
“That’s right,” Urek said. Nodding at a house a few hundred feet down the street, he added, “That’s his there.” Well, in for a penny and all that, he thought, and proceeded to tell her his plan to deal with the councilman.
She nodded. “I see. Well, if what you said is true, and Queen Adina wants it done before the morning, what are all of you doing standing around out here?”
He grunted. “Had a bit of a disagreement about the plan, is all.”
“The plan’s shit,” she said distractedly, turning to study the house, and Urek did his best not to notice the smug looks on the faces of the others. “Still…there are six guards, you say?”
“That’s right,” he muttered. “And two servants and a scribe.”
“Anyone else?”
“How the fuck should I know?” he asked, still sore about the way she’d dismissed his plan so quickly. “Might be the bastard has a dog.”
She turned back to him. “Fine. I’ll help you.”
Urek raised an eyebrow. “Beggin’ your pardon, miss, but we didn’t exactly ask for your help, and we don’t rightly need it. No offense meant, but this sort of thing is what we do, you understand?”
“Sure I do,” she said. “Just as I understand that, had I not come along, you, at the least, would have been dead before morning, and the queen’s problem would have remained.”
“Thank you,” Beautiful said. “I mean…knockin’ on the door, Urek? Seriously?”
He avoided meeting the gazes of the others, staring instead at his feet. “Well. He wouldn’t have expected it, that’s all,” he grumbled.
“No, he wouldn’t have, I’m sure,” the other woman said. “Because, of course, no one would be stupid enough to try it. But that’s okay—I’ve got a better idea.”
“Probably a bad one,” Urek muttered.
“What’s that?” Beautiful asked. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” But judging by the amusement dancing in her eyes, Urek thought she’d heard well enough.
He sighed. “So what’s the idea?”
“Well,” the newcomer said, smiling, “I’ll be the one doing the knocking.”
He grunted. “Look, lady, no disrespect meant, and all, but if knockin’ is a sure way to get dead—somethin’ I still ain’t completely sold on, mind—then it seems to me that I’ll have a better chance of survivin’ it than you. Oh, you’re brave enough, sure, walkin’ up on a group of what you took to be criminals like you done, but back when I was a soldier, my sergeant was fond of sayin’ that courage alone is only enough to get a man killed. He was a bastard through and through, that one, but it seems to me he was right enough about that.”
“You’re correct, of course,” she said, smiling wider. “But, then, I have more than just courage, I think. Now, all of you just wait here, and be ready when I give the signal.”
With that, she turned and walked away, headed directly toward the councilman’s house. “But b-b-boss,” Osirn said, “what’s the signal?”
Urek sighed again. “Couldn’t say, lad. Her screamin’ in agony, maybe.”
CHAPTER
NINE
Councilman Faden Arkrest awoke to the sound of thunder only to realize, after a few confused moments, that it wasn’t thunder at all, but someone knocking at his door as if they intended to break it d
own. He frowned, waiting impatiently for Ianden, his servant, to get rid of whoever was foolish enough to come calling in the middle of the night.
He waited, but the knocking only grew louder, so loud that it seemed to be coming from inside his own head. An ache began to form in his temple, a promise of pain to come. Cursing, he tossed the silk covers aside and climbed from his bed, deciding that whoever was so impolite as to accost him this late at night would answer for it, as would Ianden.
He moved to the door of his bedroom, his anger building with each resounding thump at the front door, and threw the latch back, slinging it open. The main room of the house was dark, without so much as a lantern or candle to give any light. He cried out as he stubbed his toe on something, hissing in pain and reaffirming his promise that whoever was behind waking him up at so indecent an hour would regret it. He made his way across the dark room, groping with his hands extended to keep from running into anything else. The knocking grew louder, so that he half-thought the door would come crashing down at any moment. It wouldn’t, of course. He had made sure it was reinforced before making use of the house—a man of Faden Arkrest’s prominent position could never be too careful when protecting himself from the disreputable side of society. Which, as far as he was concerned, included nearly everyone.
Another security measure upon which he had insisted was the small peep hole in the door, the cover of which he now slid open to gaze outside. Faden had a moment of intense fear when he noted the figure standing on the other side of the door, for if any human form had been contrived by the gods to do violence, then surely the one that was even now knocking without surcease on his door was it. He couldn’t make out too much with the small view afforded by the peep hole, but it was enough to see the impossibly wide shoulders, and the blunted features of a face which served as evidence of a life spent fighting, or proof that the gods could, at times, be particularly cruel.
The figure seemed to realize he was staring through the small hole, bending down and smiling widely back. Faden was shocked to realize that the stranger was the ugliest woman he’d ever seen and was missing more teeth than she had.
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