Weremage: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 5)

by Garrett Robinson

  Loren could not speak. It was not only the sight of the city that struck her dumb, but the fact that she beheld it, in truth, for the second time. She could not be sure, but she thought she even saw the pillar of rock where Gregor had held Annis, Gem and Chet over the abyss. Suddenly she was struck with terror at the thought of bringing her friends here, and she wanted to turn back, to spur Midnight into the jungle and hide away, never to return.

  Instead she nudged the horse’s side. “Onward,” she said. “We should try to reach it before nightfall.”

  Your dreams are not the future, she told herself. You are not so important that the Elves would give you that gift.

  As they neared the city, three buildings in the lower level caught their eye. They were massive, flat on top but with sloping sides so that they almost resembled pyramids. They were wrought all in black granite, and the style looked familiar to Loren. Then she realized that they looked very similar to the Academy, back on the High King’s Seat. But while the Academy stood tall and proud, these mansions sat like spiders in the shadows. Even their gilded trim looked like crooked legs, coiled to spring forth and snatch some unwary prey.

  “Those buildings are the homes of the family Yerrin,” said Uzo. His jaw clenched. “If there are answers for us in this city, they will be there.”

  “A great many of your kin dwell here,” said Gem, looking over to Annis. “Have you never visited the city before?”

  “Never. I had never left the Seat before the journey that brought me to Cabrus.” Annis straightened suddenly in her saddle, and turned to Loren with a curious expression. “I have only just now realized that that was my first journey away from home, and I am still upon it. I have not yet returned to the Seat. What a long and wandering road it has been. Eight months have passed since I last saw the home where I was raised.”

  That gave Loren pause as well. Had it really been so close to a year since she left the Birchwood? Her birthday had passed some time in Febris, unmarked. It had never held great importance for her, since her parents had never celebrated it.

  Not far from the city, they had to rejoin the main road. It was close enough that Yerrin would have little warning, even if they were spotted, but still they did not wish to be noticed. Therefore they split up and entered the city in twos and threes. Chet and Loren rode in together, with Gem, of course, who rode in the saddle behind Loren. The guards did not even seem to notice them among the trading carts and wagons they rode beside. Once inside the city walls, they rode a few streets on, and then regrouped with the rest of their party. Then Uzo led them on, through the winding streets that would bring them to the home of the family Yerrin.

  When they neared the huge, black mansions, Loren saw that not only were they built close to one another, but they were in fact in a sort of complex, with a single great wall that surrounded all three of them. They loomed up from within that enclosure, ominous in the light of the city’s many torches and lanterns that were even now being lit against the coming of night. Uzo led them in a wandering path around the whole wall, as though they were merely travelers taking in the city’s sights. But they all studied the place surreptitiously, eyeing the few gates, which were closed, and the many guards that patrolled the wall. When they had taken the place in, they stopped at a tavern, tying their horses up outside and paying a servant girl there to watch them.

  At a table in the back of the room, they ordered ale and wine, and waited for the drinks to be delivered before they spoke. Then Loren leaned forward. “What can we expect inside the walls?” she asked Uzo.

  Uzo shrugged. “I have only visited this city before,” he said. “I have never been inside the Yerrin dwellings. They permit no outsiders inside, except for important guests on official business—usually nobility.”

  Loren thought of how she and Jordel had infiltrated the Shade fortress in the Greatrocks. “Mayhap we could disguise ourselves as guards. That might get us inside.”

  But Niya shook her head. “No good. We could never pass for Yerrins. Did you not see the guards’ helmets? The fronts are open, so that their faces are plain to see.”

  “At least Uzo could get in,” said Loren. “He comes from Feldemar, and has the look.”

  Niya rolled her eyes. “You must listen better. None but Yerrins are permitted inside the wall. Uzo’s skin is not enough. They are a family. They know each other. He would be recognized—or rather, he would not be, and therein lies the problem.”

  Loren’s face flushed with embarrassment. “What, then?”

  To everyone’s surprise, Gem spoke up. “Are there other buildings inside the wall?”

  They all looked to Uzo, but he shrugged. “I do not know for certain.”

  “Yet there would have to be,” said Weath. “We see only their great manors, where the family’s important scions live, as well as the people who serve them. Yet the Yerrins would need more than that—storage for food, grain for their horses, and even cleaning sheds for the groundskeepers.”

  Gem’s face broke into a smile, and Loren guessed at his idea just before he said it. “There will be rooftops, then. There is no one better on rooftops than I. If we can climb the wall, mayhap we can travel across the rooftops to reach the manors, and without anyone seeing us.”

  Niya’s nostrils flared, and she snorted. “Good on rooftops are you? Mayhap in the city you called home. But you do not know this place.”

  “Loren can pick her way through any forest, even if she has never been there,” said Gem. “I am the same with cities.”

  “He does have a sense for such things,” said Loren. “With him to guide me, mayhap I can slip into the Yerrin dwellings.”

  “You?” said Chet. “You speak as if you mean to go alone.”

  “I am the spy,” said Loren, shrugging. “Surely you do not think that all nine of us can sneak in together.”

  “Two may conceal themselves better than nine, yet three are not much more noticeable, and may be much safer if it should come to blows,” said Niya. “I will come with you, for you will need someone by your side who will do what is necessary to get back out alive.”

  Loren thought she heard the meaning behind that: who will kill, if need be. She met Niya’s gaze, but the Mystic did not flinch.

  “I should like to come as well,” said Chet. “Surely one more will not make a difference.”

  But her dream flashed into her mind, and she saw Chet in Gregor’s clutches. “No. You must remain here. Everyone added to the mission only increases the danger.”

  “Then let me come instead of Niya,” insisted Chet. “I can look after you as well as she can.”

  “That is not what I said I would do,” said Niya. “I said I would get her—and all of us—out alive. You might look after her, but you will not drive three feet of steel into a guard’s gut if they stand between you and escape.”

  Chet glared at her, and she glared back. But before either of them could speak again, Weath put her hand forwards on the table to draw their attention. “The plan all sounds well,” she said. “But what do you mean to do once you are inside? That is still unclear.”

  “We must learn if Damaris is in the city,” said Loren. “Surely someone inside will know.”

  “You mean to interrogate them? You will hardly have the time.”

  “I do not require much time,” said Niya. Her hand dropped to the knife at her waist.

  “If a corpse is found, Damaris will know someone is after her, and may flee the city,” said Weath.

  “I said nothing of corpses,” said Niya. “But if Damaris should learn that we are here, and try to flee, then so much the better. We will know it if she does, and we can track her movement. We will send word back to Kal, and the Mystic order will bring her to bay—removed from the proud manors of her family, where her defenses will be strongest.”

  Annis looked at Loren across the table. Loren thought she knew the girl’s mind—this was somewhat beyond the orders Kal had given them. Yet Loren knew of no other way to
learn whether Damaris was in the city, and they were running out of time. If Yerrin had not already discovered their missing party of guards in the jungle, it was only a matter of time.

  “It is decided, then,” said Loren. “The rest of you must wait here. And if anything should go wrong, and the three of us do not return, you must send word back to Ammon at once.”

  Chet glared into his cup of wine. Loren had not yet touched hers, but now she threw it back all in one swallow. Niya smirked.

  “Bolster your courage however you must, Nightblade, and then let us carry out your plan.”

  Loren thought to herself that in fact, the plan had been Gem’s. But she said nothing, and only returned Niya’s smile.

  twenty-five

  LOREN, GEM, AND NIYA LEFT the tavern soon afterwards. Chet and Weath came with them, to provide as much help as they could before the three of them passed beyond the wall.

  Now that the last of the sunlight had vanished from the sky, Dahab was like an explosion of light. Its many lanterns and torches caught on the gold trim that adorned every building, so that the whole place shone nearly as bright as daylight, but warmer, a soft orange glow that wrapped them in warmth. As she marveled at the sight of it, Loren realized that every light in the whole city was placed to cast its glow on as much of the gold as possible, as if the whole city had been built for just that purpose.

  “Now the whole city glows like a gem,” said Gem. He looked up at Loren, grinning. “I call that a good omen for us—or me, at least.”

  Loren smiled back—but then she saw his face turn feral, his teeth bared as they tore at her throat. Her smile became forced. “I hope so.”

  The streets had begun to clear, for few people had business upon them at night, and they found a section of the wall that had almost no one nearby. As they readied themselves to scale the wall, Chet took Loren aside for a moment.

  “You must promise me to return,” he said, looking into her eyes.

  “I can make no such promise,” said Loren. “But I promise to try.”

  Chet glared over her shoulder, and even without turning, Loren knew his ugly look was for Niya. “That is hardly comforting.”

  “Whatever your feelings towards Niya, do not let them blind you,” said Loren, fighting to keep the irritation from her voice. “She has proven herself loyal so far.”

  “So far,” said Chet.

  Loren put a hand on his cheek. “Dear, dear Chet. Look after Annis. If all goes well, we shall return soon, but if it does not, she will be in greater danger than all the rest of you.”

  “I hardly agree,” said Chet. “If they catch us, we will be killed. I do not think she faces that fate.”

  But Loren remembered when last she had faced Damaris in the Greatrocks, and she remembered the merchant’s wrath. “Yet she faces her own sort of horror. Look after her.”

  He gave a slow nod. Then he laced his fingers together, and knelt for her. Loren glanced up the street. Weath had cleared the few passers by from sight, and gave a nod. Loren placed her foot in Chet’s hands, and her hands upon the wall. They looked at each other, and he nodded three times in quick succession. On the third nod, he heaved upwards, and Loren leaped. Her fingers seized the top of the wall, and she gripped it tight, bracing her feet against the wall to steady herself. Then, slowly, she pulled herself up inch by inch.

  Cautiously she raised one eye over the lip of the wall, and then ducked back down at once. There was a guard not three paces away, walking in her direction. But her gaze was turned up and outwards, over the city, and as she passed, she took no notice of Loren’s fingers. Once she heard the footsteps recede, Loren pulled herself up and over the wall. No other guards stood nearby, and so Loren waved down to Gem and Niya.

  One by one they followed her. Chet did not look happy to help heave Niya up the wall, but he did it, and soon they were all upon the wall. Better yet, there was a rooftop within easy jumping distance, and another beyond that. Indeed, just as Gem had predicted, there seemed to be a route that ran all the way to the bottom of the first manor far ahead.

  “Better and better,” whispered the boy, grinning at them in the moonslight.

  “Stop prattling and jump,” growled Niya.

  Rolling his eyes, Gem made the leap to the first roof, landing catlike upon the tiles. Loren feared his landing might alert anyone inside the building, but she heard nothing at all when he came down. She jumped next, and found that the building was so solidly built, she doubted she could have made a noise if she tried.

  “Stay close, and stop when I do,” said Gem, and ran off. He jumped from one rooftop to the next, always lurking in the shadows of higher buildings when he could. Sometimes he would turn left or right, though Loren saw no reason for it, but then in a moment she would see that they had avoided an obstacle they would not have been able to climb over. She marveled the boy’s skill; truly he looked at a city the way she did a forest, each one different and yet all of them sharing a common set of rules.

  After a time, he stopped suddenly. Ahead of them was a building with a second story, though there was another roof on their level to the left.

  “Why do you halt?” said Niya. “This is no time for nerves, whelp.”

  Loren glared at her before speaking to Gem more patiently. “What is it, Gem?”

  “I think we must climb this way,” said Gem, pointing at the taller building ahead.

  “That is a waste of time,” said Niya. “We should go around.”

  “It is too heavily lit,” said Gem. “This way keeps us out of the torchlight of the walls.”

  Niya scowled at him, but before she could reply, Loren spoke up. “Very well. Up it is.”

  “It is a waste of—”

  “We will waste more time arguing,” said Loren. “If Gem says this is the way to go, I believe him.”

  The Mystic snorted and turned away. Loren could not understand her frustration with Gem. She had never seemed fond of the boy, but now it was worse. She put the matter from her mind. The situation was fraught with tension for all of them, and that could wear on the nerves.

  This structure was not built of the solid granite of the manors, but like the rest of the smaller buildings they traveled, it was normal white plaster. There were window ledges and wooden beams to take hold of, and Gem scaled them easily enough. Loren was not quite so quick, but she followed close behind, and Niya’s powerful arms served to propel her towards the top. At the top, Gem reached up and gripped the edge of the tiles, using them to pull himself up to the roof. He lowered a hand and took Loren’s arm as she did the same. But Niya did not wait for Loren to gain the roof, and grabbed one of the tiles in haste.

  All of the roofs had been well-made up to now, but now at last, disaster struck. The loose tile came away in Niya’s hand, and she lurched away from the wall. For an instant, Loren thought the Mystic would plunge out into empty space. But she herself had just gained the rooftop, and she threw herself flat to seize Niya’s hand. The Mystic slammed back into the wall with a grunt, while Loren clung desperately to the tile, trying to keep herself from sliding over. The tile that had come off spun away, shattering as it struck the cobblestones far below.

  “Hurry!” gasped Loren. Niya got her hand atop the roof, and with Gem’s help, Loren pulled her up. No sooner had they ducked back behind the edge of the roof before they heard a voice on the ground below. They all froze—but it was no shout of panic or alarm. Peeking back over the edge, Loren saw a stolid man in fine green clothes step out the front door of the building atop which they lay. He looked at the tile on the ground for a moment, and then turned his gaze skyward. Loren ducked out of sight just in time. There was a long moment of silence. After her pulse had resumed its normal pace, Loren risked another peek. The man had gone, and no alarm had been raised.

  “A stroke of luck, that,” said Gem.

  Loren looked to Niya. The Mystic woman did not look chagrined at her haste, but if anything, only looked angrier at Gem. But when he led th
em to the other end of the roof and helped them climb down, this time she waited patiently, and followed his lead as he took them back down the other side of the building.

  They reached the first manor at last. Now that they were up against it, it loomed even larger than before. The buildings pressed close against it here, up to its very walls. There was a window just in front of them, and inside was an empty room with no lights. Loren reached out to the window, but it would not budge under her hand. “Locked,” she muttered.

  There was another window just a few paces down, but it, too, was locked. The rooftop led to another, and then another, with many windows to each, but every one they tried was locked. Niya muttered a curse. “Someone in the family Yerrin, at least, has an eye for security. Likely it is part of the duty of the manor guards to ensure all windows on this level are locked.”

  “The higher floors might be open,” said Loren.

  “That is my thought,” said Niya. “Boy, climb to the next floor and try one of them.”

  But at the thought of that, panic seized Loren’s breast, and she shook her head. “No. I will do it.”

  Niya frowned at her. “He is a better climber.”

  In truth, Loren did not want Gem anywhere near the manor, and certainly did not want him to come inside with them. She did not truly believe that her dreams showed her the future, but still, the thought of Gem in Gregor’s hands—or, worse, the thought of the boy going mad and attacking her—would not leave her mind. “He … he should remain here, on guard,” she said. “If anything goes amiss, he will serve as a lookout, and can come to warn us. His purpose here was only to help us reach the manor, after all.”

  To her relief, Niya shrugged. “Very well. But we have tarried too long here already. If you wish to lead the way, then lead.”

  Loren nodded and looked up. There was a window there, three paces up, and a wooden beam just below it. She took a few steps back, and then with a running leap she seized the wooden beam. From there, she could pull herself up enough to grip the bottom edge of the windowsill, and then it was a simple matter to pull herself up and stand upon the wooden beam. She placed a hand on the window and lifted. It slid up easily, without a sound.