Shadow Hunted (The Collector Chronicles Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Was it only about the gold?” Carth asked, lowering the shadows completely and stepping forward.

  The woman spun and two daggers appeared in her hands. She twirled one of them with a cockiness that told Carth that she knew how to use them. Would they be poisoned?

  “Did he send you?” the woman asked.

  “The Collector?” Carth asked.

  The woman met her gaze. “You can tell him I got here first.”

  “What if he needed for me to bring this to him?” Carth asked.

  “If he needed it that badly, he could’ve waited. He knew that I was going to get it for him.”

  Carth kept her face neutral. This woman had come on behalf of the Collector. “Consider me a backup,” Carth said.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t send backups.” She flicked one of the knives, which came streaking toward Carth.

  The suddenness of it almost overwhelmed her. She ducked and felt the knife whisper past her, sinking into the wood behind her. As she did, she cloaked herself in shadows, rolling across the floor before coming to her feet and turning back to the woman, lowering the shadows once more.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked Carth.

  “Seeing as how I’m the one who has the upper hand, I’d ask you the same question,” Carth said.

  The woman cocked a smile. “Upper hand?” Another knife came whistling at her, and was quickly followed by a third.

  Carth thickened the shadows. It was the only thing that allowed her to avoid impact from the second knife. It missed, though narrowly. The third one would have struck her in the chest had she not thickened the shadows.

  The woman was skilled. Her weapons might be limited, though Carth had no way of knowing how many knives she had on her. Even if she had four or five more, Carth would need to be careful.

  “Who are you?” she asked the woman again. She glanced at the knife lying uselessly on the floor and kicked it away. There was no use allowing the woman to take another shot at her.

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” the woman said. “If you cross him, the consequences are severe.”

  Carth grunted, dodging another knife. She avoided attacking, wanting only to have answers to her questions. Another knife came toward her, and she twisted, the movements becoming something like a dance. “I suspect I’ve already crossed him without intending to.”

  “Then you’re in more danger than you realize.”

  “And you work with him?”

  The woman held on to a pair of knives, seemingly recognizing that Carth hadn’t attacked her. There had been no retaliation for the knives she’d sent streaking at her, though Carth had made certain that each one that fell harmlessly to the ground was kicked away, sinking into the paneling on the walls.

  “I don’t work with him. I work for him.”

  “I don’t see how that’s different.”

  The woman grunted. “One means there’s a choice. The other means there’s payment involved.”

  “And which is it for you? The choice or the payment?”

  “If I had the choice, I wouldn’t care about the payment. Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury.”

  “Everyone has the luxury of choice.”

  “Do they?” the woman asked. “I’m not so certain. When you meet him—if you meet him—you’ll understand.”

  Carth smiled. “I’ve had others think they can force me to do what they want. All of them have learned that I can be somewhat stubborn when I want to be.”

  The woman shook her head. “That’s too bad. He likes it when you’re stubborn. It makes the game more interesting for him.”

  Carth didn’t like the fact that it seemed this woman was forced to work for the Collector. If there were others like her, Carth needed to do whatever she could to help them. It was the same reason she made herself available to help those in the other cities in the north.

  “Let me help you,” Carth offered.

  The woman clutched the golden statue and shook her head. “Help? Now that I’ve done this job, I’m freed of anything else he might ask of me.”

  Carth doubted that was true. She’d met too many people like the Collector and had known all of them to find additional reasons to keep people bound. A job like this would be one of many, and none of them would allow this woman to get free from his influence.

  “If you find that it’s not all that he asks of you, I offer my help.”

  “And why should I believe that you would help me any more than he would?”

  “You shouldn’t. I’m offering you an alternative. A choice. You have to decide whether or not you take it.”

  The woman started toward the door and Carth made no effort to stop her. There was no point in doing so. She didn’t know what this gold statue was, or how valuable it might be, and she didn’t know why the Collector would send her for it, but stopping her was not of interest to Carth. She could follow the woman, and she could find out everything she needed about the Collector.

  “If I let you go”—the woman arched a brow as Carth spoke—”at least tell me your name so I know if you come looking for me.”

  The woman considered her for a moment before shrugging. “Talia. My name is Talia.”

  Carth considered offering her name, but doing so would potentially give the Collector a name to search for more information. She had learned how valuable names were, especially with everything she had done. Instead, she offered something else.

  “You can find me at the Goth Spald.”

  “Is that a tavern?”

  Carth shook her head. “A ship. That’s where you would be able to find me.”

  “I tell you my name and you give me a ship?”

  Carth shrugged. “I’ve offered my help and you’ve refused. If you need me, you’ll learn all that you want and more.”

  The woman watched Carth for a moment and then hurried toward the back of the shop and out the door, disappearing. Carth wrapped the shadows around herself and followed, quickly catching up to Talia and preparing to follow her as she made her way toward the Collector.

  11

  The Collector’s home was on the northern edge of the city. From here, it would be easy enough to escape and head deeper inland, but it would be more difficult to reach the sea. Maybe the Collector wasn’t concerned about reaching the sea.

  Carth found Talia waiting outside a gate leading to an otherwise unassuming home. It was two stories high and lights flickered in most of the windows, but otherwise the building wasn’t nearly as decorative as many within the city. The gate was stout—solid iron—and a pair of guards were visible from here, to say nothing of those that weren’t visible.

  She leaned against a wall and watched, holding the shadows around her.

  The darkness enveloped her and Carth was thankful for the depths of night. If the moon had been full, pulling the shadows around her would have been more difficult—and more noticeable.

  The gate opened and the guards allowed Talia to enter.

  Carth stepped into a neighboring alleyway and climbed along the side of the building, reaching the rooftop, where she could look out over the Collector’s grounds for a better view. As she suspected, the two guards waiting outside the gate had been only the beginning.

  A pair of guards lined the path leading into the building every dozen feet. They were the visible threat. Were it not for her connection to the shadows, she might have thought them the only threat, but she noticed other waiting along the walls, tucked back into the shadows. And those were the people she could see. How many more might there be?

  Talia walked along the path leading up to the entrance. The door opened for her and she went inside.

  Carth decided to wait.

  At least she now knew where to find the Collector, if not what he was like.

  How long would Talia be inside?

  She was willing to wait if it helped her know more about what was taking place in the city. Waiting gave her time to
think.

  Why was she so willing to pursue this? Other than the fact that she had seen two sides fighting each other, there was no other good reason for her to involve herself in this. Talia had made it clear she chose to work with the Collector—even if it was only because she felt that she had to.

  Maybe this was a mistake. Whatever was taking place here was not her concern.

  Coming here—rather, remaining here—placed those she cared about in danger. It was time for them to leave. There were other places they could go. Safer places.

  As she prepared to jump, she noticed movement from the Collector’s compound.

  Carth hesitated.

  Now that she was here, she could at least take the time to understand more about what the Collector intended. It might not matter to her, and she might not bother to intervene, but the more she knew, the better prepared she would be for whatever else might happen while they were in Keyall.

  Talia kept her head down as she made her way out of the compound.

  That was different from the way she had held her head high when she had entered, the confidence that she had displayed. What had happened?

  Carth didn’t have to think too hard to have an idea. She knew men like this Collector—even without knowing the Collector. He would have done something—or said something—that would have tied Talia to him more deeply, despite her desire to escape him.

  When the gate opened and Talia stepped out onto the street, she followed as the other woman slipped along it. After turning down a side street, Talia stopped.

  “You can come out of hiding,” she said.

  Carth smiled. She hadn’t been trying to hide herself—at least, not that well. It was interesting that Talia would be able to detect her as easily as she had. Did she have some connection to the shadows? It would be unlikely this far to the south, but maybe she had some other way of detecting Carth’s presence.

  “What happened with him?” Carth asked.

  “Nothing happened,” Talia said. She seemed to avoid looking down the street toward Carth. Was there something in that direction she feared—or did she wait for others to help?

  Carth approached, keeping a slight distance. She was prepared for Talia’s daggers, though she didn’t think the woman would attack. If she had wanted to be aggressive, the time would have been before she had announced that she knew Carth was there.

  “He won’t let you leave his service, will he?” Carth asked.

  In the alleyway, tucked as they were between a pair of buildings, the darkness was thick. It was even more impressive that Talia had noticed her presence.

  “He was thankful for what I brought him. I should be grateful for that.”

  “Grateful? You completed a task. Did he not reward you…”

  She realized then why Talia was looking away. The shadows she saw around the other woman’s face took on a different meaning. Some were the shadows of the night hovering over her, masking her, while others were something else.

  Carth reached toward Talia and grabbed her face, ignoring the woman’s protestations as she tried to pull away. A deep bruise had already formed on her cheek, and one eye was bloodshot, though not from tears.

  “This was the Collector?” Carth asked, cool anger in her voice.

  Talia jerked back, stepping away from Carth. Her body tensed and Carth thought she might try to run, but in the alley, there wasn’t any place that she could easily run off to. “You don’t understand.”

  Carth snorted. “I understand power. I understand abuse. What did he do?”

  Talia flicked her gaze down the street. “I disappointed him.”

  “By bringing him what he wanted?” Carth didn’t know what it was that Talia had stolen from him—and no longer cared.

  “By taking too long bringing him what he wanted. And when I tried to tell him about you…”

  Carth clenched her jaw. Had her actions caused harm to this woman? Even though she didn’t know Talia, Carth didn’t want to be the reason she was assaulted. She spent her time trying to rescue women like her, trying to get them to a better situation.

  “What about me?”

  Talia shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be speaking to you. If he finds out—”

  Carth pulled the shadows around them so that it was only the two of them. Everything else was squeezed out, sealing the night off from them. “Now he can’t find out.”

  Talia’s eyes widened slightly, but her surprise passed quickly. Carth couldn’t help but be impressed by how quickly she adjusted. There were some people who never fully learned to manage the knowledge that she could manipulate the shadows. When Carth had first learned of her ability, she had thought it strange. How could someone use the shadows the way that she could? Now it was natural—almost as natural as breathing.

  “What are you?” Talia asked.

  “I’m many things. Shadow born. Descendant of ancient Ih-lash. Trained by the Nyaesh. But most know me as Carth of C’than.”

  “The C’than is a myth.”

  Carth shrugged. It surprised her that Talia would have heard of them, especially with as secretive as the organization was. “You can believe it to be a myth. That would serve just as well.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Many reasons.”

  Talia stared at her. “That’s all you’re willing to tell me?”

  “That’s all you need to know.”

  Talia sighed. “He struck me when I couldn’t answer that question for him.”

  Carth tensed. That was the reaction that Talia wanted from her, but she couldn’t help herself. “Why?”

  “He’s Alistan Rhain. That’s why.”

  Carth frowned. “Is he the Collector?”

  Talia sniffed. “He is Alistan Rhain.”

  Surprisingly, Carth now had a name but knew nothing else about the Collector. “And what does he collect?”

  Talia shook her head. “Power.”

  “Someone like him shouldn’t have power.”

  “And you know him? I didn’t think you were from Keyall.”

  “I’m not, but I’ve known plenty of men like him to know that he shouldn’t have power. Anything he has, he abuses.”

  “And you think that you can stop him?”

  Carth considered a moment. It seemed more than an inquiry. “Are you asking on his behalf, or yours?”

  Talia looked around her, but the shadows would be too thick for her to see anything. Thickened as they were, no sound from their conversation would drift out, but there was another benefit. Talia couldn’t run off for help without alerting Carth.

  “There are others who oppose him, aren’t there?” Carth asked.

  Talia nodded. “And they suffer. They’re fools for thinking they can counter him. He’s been in power long enough that he’s faced people like them before.”

  “That sounds like what he wants you to say.”

  “What do you think I can do?”

  “Leave him. Stop working with him. You have a choice.”

  “Not a choice. In Keyall, you’re either working with Rhain or you’re working against him. I’ve seen what happens to those who work against him. I’m not willing to have the same happen to me.”

  The bruise on Talia’s face had darkened, now taking up most of one cheek. It would take a long time for it to resolve. It was a wonder that she hadn’t been injured worse with a hit like that.

  “I can help,” Carth said to her.

  “You can’t help. No one can help,” Talia said, turning away. “Others have tried, but he’s still in power. Those who oppose him suffer.” Talia looked up at her. “Do you intend to take me hostage? After this, I doubt he’ll offer much for me, but you never know.”

  Carth shook her head and let the shadows start to dissipate. “I only wanted to help.”

  “You can’t help. Your being here has only caused more problems, Carth of C’than.”

  Talia looked around and seemed to realize that Carth no longer held the shadows a
round her. She took a step back, watching Carth warily, before turning and running, disappearing into the darkness.

  Carth didn’t follow. What would be the point? She wouldn’t attack Talia, and she didn’t know that there was anything she could do—short of toppling the Collector from power, and she didn’t know enough about the city to know whether that was something she could—or should—do. Often when power shifted, others appeared who were as terrible as the ones who had come before them.

  Maybe Talia was right and she should leave. Retreating wasn’t in her, but she also didn’t want to be the reason that others suffered.

  But it wasn’t only about the Collector in Keyall, was it? She thought about what she’d seen at the smugglers’ village. They were equally awful, especially if they were willing to slaughter prisoners in that way.

  Carth started away from the Collector’s compound, heading toward the tavern. Near ruins on the edge of the city, she passed a group of men who reminded her of those she’d seen on the ship that had attacked her, but when she went to follow them, they disappeared. She didn’t have it in her to search for them.

  As she made her way toward the tavern, she felt a growing acceptance of the fact that she would leave. Departing before she had the information she wanted wasn’t something she often did, but perhaps she could return to Keyall later, when she had a better understanding.

  When she reached the tavern, she found a dozen people outside. It didn’t take her long to find Linsay, though there was no sign of Jenna. Linsay had one hand inside the flap of her jacket, a posture that made Carth immediately on edge. It was where Linsay kept her daggers.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Something stupid. Jenna had been drinking. The table she was with hadn’t seemed to mind that she was there. And then… I don’t know. Something changed, Carth. The man at the table jumped her. Jenna fought back, others joined in, and the entire tavern started to brawl.”

  Carth scanned the others in the street, looking for signs of Jenna. “Where is she?”

  “I was near the door when the brawl started. Everyone started pushing and I got shoved outside. I… I don’t know what happened with her.”