The Tainted City

by Courtney Schafer

  “What’s going on here?”

  I’d never been so happy to see an Alathian uniform, or hear the icy disdain coloring Stevan’s voice. He pushed his way past Mikail into the room, followed by Lena. About fucking time! I raced to Lena’s side.

  “You’ve got to save her!” I hissed in her ear, pointing at Jylla. “Ruslan will make Kiran kill her, and she knows something we need—I told him Marten needs her for a spell, but he won’t listen to me. You’re a mage—make him listen!”

  Lena looked from Jylla to Kiran, lying curled in a spreading pool of blood with his eyes squeezed shut and his breath coming in ragged pants. She gripped Stevan’s arm and said something in a curt, commanding whisper.

  Stevan’s shoulders went rigid. He nodded, one tight jerk of his chin, and opened the belt pouch at his waist. Lena put her hands on Jylla’s shoulders and whispered in her ear.

  Ruslan rose to his feet, simmering anger visible in every line of his body. “This is none of your affair, Alathian. Do not think to interfere.”

  “I have no intention of interfering with your investigation,” Lena said quietly. “But we have need of this woman, and your apprentice needs healing. As compensation, we offer a source of power for his use.”

  Stevan pulled out the twisted-metal amulet Marten had used to block Kiran’s mark-bond. Ruslan checked, his anger altering to intent appraisal.

  Stevan’s lips moved in a barely audible song, and the amulet’s metal strands glowed softly white.

  Kiran made a startled noise, his eyes flying open. Stunned relief spread over his face as he stared at the amulet. Ruslan glanced down at him, with a sudden, ironic smile.

  “Go ahead, akhelysh. But we will speak of this later.” His voice was soft and level, but the banked-coal look to his eyes made me wince on Kiran’s behalf.

  Kiran sighed, his eyes fluttering shut, and slumped in a boneless heap. The amulet in Stevan’s hand flared up bright enough to make my eyes water. The bloody gashes in Kiran’s torso knit together to leave clean, whole skin in their place.

  The light from the amulet went out like a snuffed candle. Instead of a graceful series of interlaced twists, the amulet’s shape was now melted and misshapen. Stevan looked nearly as furious as Ruslan had moments before. He clenched his hand into a fist around the destroyed amulet.

  Kiran lay in a limp huddle, eyes still shut. Ruslan bent and put a hand to his forehead. Once again I glimpsed the strange, terrible tenderness he’d shown in Simon’s cave.

  “Kiran will recover?” Lena asked.

  Ruslan slid his arms under Kiran’s knees and shoulders and lifted him as easily as if Kiran were a child. His face when he turned to the Alathians displayed only his usual mocking contempt.

  “Of course he will.” He glanced at Stevan’s clenched fist. “What a pity you had to waste such a valuable item.”

  Stevan’s gray eyes might have been chips of granite. “A shame,” he said, enunciating each word with cold precision. “I trust you intend to share with us your knowledge of what happened here?”

  “I prefer to wait until I may speak to your captain directly,” Ruslan said, all benign condescension. “Tell him he may call upon me this evening. I must first attend to my apprentices to ensure their full recovery, and then return to the Aiyalen Spire.”

  “You didn’t complete the water magic,” Lena said.

  Ruslan glanced at the pile of blackened rubble. “The power we raised was needed elsewhere.” His gaze slid to the bloodstained stones at his feet. He drew in a deep breath, and all the blood in the room sizzled and burned away in a flare of red light. Including that on my shirt, leaving it a ruined mess of cloth scraps.

  “I’ll be most interested to hear if you learn anything useful from the woman,” Ruslan said to Lena. “Let me know the moment you finish with her.”

  Jylla tensed under Lena’s hands. Ruslan smiled, predatory and cruel. For the first time, he looked straight at me. The depth of burning malice in his gaze sent me stumbling backward before I could stop myself. My mind knew he couldn’t cast against me, but my body had other ideas, every instinct shrieking in panic.

  He didn’t speak; he didn’t need to. The message was clear enough: vow or no, I’ll make you pay. He knew Kiran hadn’t saved my life merely to keep his vow; looked like I’d just gotten promoted from inconsequential tool to enemy worthy of revenge.

  I didn’t try to hide my fear. Let him think me cowed. Fear had never kept me from a goal before, and it wouldn’t this time, either. I stared at the stone beneath my feet and promised silently, I’ll beat you. When you burn, I’ll be the one laughing. Yet even in my head the words sounded hollow.

  Ruslan and Mikail strode out, with Kiran still cradled limp in Ruslan’s arms.

  I released a huge, pent-up breath. My muscles felt as shaky as if I’d just climbed the Kanyalin Spire. “Where were you?” I demanded of Lena. “I signaled you when the killer first showed up—if you were in Aiyalen’s courtyard and Ruslan at the summit, how the hell did he get here first?”

  She looked apologetic. “We didn’t stay in Aiyalen’s courtyard. The aether around the tower was terribly muddied, and Talm suggested we might have better success casting instead from a location where the confluence currents were not so wild. We left the courtyard to seek such a spot—and then came the confluence upheaval, followed by your signal. We saw more wardfire on Aiyalen and feared the killer might have returned there. Marten and Talm went to investigate, while Stevan and I sought you.”

  “Thank Khalmet you came when you did.” I’d thought Jylla was dead for sure. And gods all damn the killer for showing up when he did! Kiran had been about to ask me if we’d met before, I knew it. He’d been ready to hear at least some of the truth, maybe even be coaxed into working more directly with me. But now, after he’d betrayed his interest in me to Ruslan, defied him to save Jylla’s life…I remembered Mikail saying, If Kiran rebels again, Ruslan will not stay his hand, and my gut went cold. Suliyya grant I hadn’t gotten him mindburned by showing him that diagram!

  Jylla bowed to Lena and Stevan, her arms extended and crossed at the wrist, the way Arkennlanders from the great cities of the east showed respect. “I owe you a great debt.”

  It was a nice performance, but I knew better than to believe her sincere. Already, that cunning mind of hers would be seeking a new path for advantage.

  “Greater than you know.” Stevan opened his hand to display the remains of the amulet. “An irreplaceable artifact destroyed, all to preserve a blood mage.” He threw the words at Lena like blows.

  “To spare the life of an innocent bystander,” Lena corrected him, her voice as unyielding as her stance. “No artifact is worth that price.”

  To my surprise, Stevan flushed as red as his hair. He looked aside and said, “Forgive my lapse. It is…not easy, to watch mages here go unpunished for their crimes.”

  Lena said, “No. But take care you do not let the past blind you, Stevan. Kiran is not Reshannis. He resists casting predatory magic rather than embracing it.”

  Pain spread over Stevan’s face, sharp and unmistakable. “I once believed Reshannis would rather die than cause harm. I was wrong. So are you. Every mage has a breaking point in the face of temptation, Lena. And unlike Reshannis, Kiran was not trained to be moral.” He turned his back and stalked over to examine the melted charms on the workroom shelves.

  I protested to Lena, “Doesn’t matter a damn bit how Kiran was trained. He spared Jylla’s life even though he knew he’d catch hell for it.” Yet I couldn’t help wondering how much longer Kiran would’ve held out if Lena and Stevan hadn’t come.

  Some dark emotion flared in Lena’s eyes, there and gone before I could identify it. “I know.”

  Jylla spoke up, in soft, earnest apology. “I’m sorry your charm got destroyed. I have information I would be glad to give you to repay you for your help.”

  I stared. I’d never seen Jylla give something away without even trying a bargain first.
<
br />   She added, “Couldn’t we go to some safer place, first? What if the killer returns?”

  Ah. Killer, hell. Jylla wanted protection from Ruslan, and she knew the Alathians were her best hope of it. Play the doe-eyed, helpless waif, get them to take her to their embassy, and find a way to stay there safe and sound—yeah, that was Jylla all over.

  Sure enough, Lena said to her, “We will take you to our embassy. The Ambassador will be eager to hear all you and Dev can tell us of this attack.” She looked to Stevan, who was pacing beside the workroom shelves, waving his hands over the charms. “Come, Stevan. Once we’ve seen Dev and his friend—Jylla, is it?—safe and heard their tale, we can return in force to seek traces.”

  Jylla, staying at the embassy…great. That was just what I needed. A sudden memory of her lithe body pressed against mine as I backed her toward her bed assaulted me. Shame heated my face. Fuck, what was wrong with me? Two months in the mines left me so desperate that one kiss blinded me like some drunken fool of a highsider? If I had to lose my head to lust, far better to do it with Cara. For all the hurt I’d felt over her letter to Marten, I didn’t doubt the depth of her concern. Whereas Jylla…I might not want her dead, but that didn’t mean I was dumb enough to think she saw me as anything but a mark to manipulate.

  Stevan said curtly, “We should ward-seal the room to prevent entry in our absence.”

  “I’ll do it,” Lena said. “Go on ahead, and guard Jylla well. I’ll soon join you.”

  Stevan took Jylla’s arm in a firm grip. She gave him a tremulous smile; he ignored it and hustled her straight out the door.

  Forget the embassy, what I wanted was to run straight to Liana and demand a look at Melly, make absolutely sure she was safe. When I refused Marten’s offer to claim her as the embassy’s ward, I hadn’t known leaving her with Red Dal until her Change might get her snatched by a murderer. Maybe I should ignore my instincts and beg Marten for help, but I still didn’t trust him an inch. There had to be another way…

  I’d hesitated a little too long. Lena touched my bare shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “Terrific.” I scowled down at the remains of my shirt. I could get a replacement from Naidar’s rooms, but likely he only owned silk so delicate it’d rip if you looked at it twice. In some hideously bright shade, no less.

  Lena said, “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner. It’s a terrible thing to see someone you care for threatened while you are helpless to protect them.”

  Her bleak certainty suggested she spoke from experience. I wondered who she cared for, and how they’d been hurt.

  An idea burst to life in my head, drowning out curiosity. I knew how I might get Melly safe without involving Marten. But could I pull it off? I wasn’t good with people. Setting a plan, foxing a ward, climbing a cliff…all those things I could do, no problem. But sweet-talking marks, manipulating their emotions to nudge them into line—that had been Jylla’s skill, not mine.

  Well. High time I learned. I glanced at the door. Stevan and Jylla had already moved off down the hall.

  “You’re right,” I said to Lena, and let the weight of my fear for Melly show. “If you understand that…can I ask you something?”

  Lena looked surprised, even a little wary, but she made an encouraging gesture.

  I shut the workroom door. A risk to talk here, but I didn’t want to wait for another chance to speak with Lena alone.

  “Has Marten told you about…” Even knowing the excellent reasons for it, I found it hard to speak of Melly to an Alathian. “About why Kiran and I agreed to come to Ninavel?”

  “He told me you wished to help a child, one living in slavery as you once did.”

  “It’s not slavery,” I protested, before I could think. I softened my tone and tried again. “Slavery is what’ll come afterward, for Melly. When her Taint fails and her handler sells her. She’s too pretty for her own good.” I explained about Karonys House.

  Lena shook her head, her expression dark. “Talm warned me that Ninavel has no limits on depravity; I see he was right. Marten told me of the arrangement he made with you. This is why you want the money? So you can buy Melly’s freedom?”

  “Yeah. But now I’m worried Melly won’t make it to her Change.” I told her of the missing Tainters.

  Lena’s mouth tightened as I spoke. She said, “I understand your fear. But why tell me? If you go to Marten—”

  “I can’t trust him! Not after what he did to Kiran. You think I can’t see that he’d sacrifice anyone and anything to gain the slightest advantage on this mission?”

  She flinched. I said, “I want Melly free of this. Wholly free of this—not someone’s pawn, not trapped in a city that might collapse into anarchy. Before, you said you were sorry for what Marten did to Kiran. Did you mean it, or was that just empty words? Because you could free Melly tonight.”

  Her face turned austere. “I will not give you money behind Marten’s back.”

  I barked out a laugh. “No, you don’t understand. I’d have to offer the entire contents of Sechaveh’s richest gem vault for Red Dal to sell a Tainter before her Change. But I don’t need money, not with a mage to help me. See, back in Tamanath, Kiran…Kiran had this idea.” I stumbled over the words, remembering his quiet courage, his certainty he could help me. What fools we’d both been. “In case you haven’t noticed how it works here in Ninavel, whatever a blood mage wants, he gets. Kiran thought he could walk into Red Dal’s place, flash Ruslan’s mark on his chest, maybe do a little magic in the bargain, and demand Melly be given over to him. Red Dal wouldn’t like it, but he sure as hell wouldn’t risk crossing a blood mage.”

  “You’re asking me to pretend to be a blood mage?” She looked at me like I’d asked her to climb an icefall barehanded. I didn’t blame her.

  “No. Not a blood mage, Red Dal would never buy that.” I certainly couldn’t picture calm, poised Lena pulling off the predatory arrogance that came as easy as breathing to Ruslan. Red Dal would see through her in ten seconds flat, even if she faked a sigil like Kiran’s, and she had no history in the city to back up her claim.

  “Then…” Her brow creased in confusion.

  “Look, if you live here, you learn to stay on the good side of all mages, not just the nastiest of the bunch. You march in there wearing something with mage sigils on it—some suitably obscure type of sigils—cast a spell or two to show off, and Red Dal will give you what you ask for. He won’t want to piss off a mage, no matter what kind.” He wouldn’t roll over quite as automatically as he might have for Kiran, and we’d have to sweeten the deal with at least a token payment, but I thought it could work. Especially if Lena was willing to make a few appropriately ominous threats.

  Her frown deepened. “Then I’d give you Melly, and you’d vanish from the city with her—depriving us of our best source of information streetside.”

  “No,” I said. “I’d send Melly away with Cara, get them both clear. Then I’d be free to concentrate on helping you stop this killer—and to help Kiran. He needs me just as badly. I won’t leave, Lena. Aside from Kiran, I’ve too many other friends in the city who stand to suffer if this bastard fucks up Ninavel’s water.”

  Her dark eyes searched mine. I said, “You want to ask me under truth spell? Go ahead. I swear to you, I’ll do anything you ask, if only you’ll get her free.”

  Lena stood silent. I waited, my breathing harsh. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I said, “Lena…you want me to beg? Please. I’ll give you my blood, bear any binding you like—”

  “If I consider this, then you must vow to me,” she said. “You will keep working with us. You will give your best effort, and you will not hold back information you find related to these attacks.”

  “Yes,” I said, without hesitation. I’d give a lot more than that for Melly’s freedom.

  “Also…I warn you, I cannot lie to a superior.”

  I wondered if it was duty or magic that would compel her tongue. “You wouldn’t have t
o lie to Marten,” I said. “Just…don’t mention it to him, until Melly’s safely gone from the city. It’d be simple, I swear. I’d tell you what to say. The whole thing would take maybe an hour of your time, and you wouldn’t have to act different than normal.” I paused. “Well, okay, if you could imitate Stevan a little, that’d help.” In a mage, Red Dal would mistake Stevan’s type of cold formality for another style of arrogance.

  “Very well,” Lena said. “Give me your oath, and I’ll do as you ask.”

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice husky with relief. “Do you want a blood-mark, or…?”

  “I will not bind you,” she said. “I would cast a truth spell, but Stevan would feel it and want an explanation. There is another way…I ask to enter your mind and read the truth of your oath as you speak it. You must give me permission, though; the Council forbids us from entering the minds of the untalented, else.”

  Let her into my head? I bit back my instinctive, horrified refusal. I’d said I’d do anything. “I’ll permit you, but…just this once. No more. And only to see the truth, not…dig around.”

  “I assure you, I will not abuse your trust.” Her eyes were earnest.

  I could never do this with Marten. But Lena…could I trust her? I’d never yet seen her lie. But as I’d warned Kiran in Tamanath, there was always a first time.

  For Melly’s sake, I’d take the risk. I nodded reluctantly.

  “Take my hand.” She held hers out. I took it, not without a spike of nervousness.

  A faint pressure spread behind my eyes. Thank Khalmet, it was nothing like the icy, crushing force I’d endured from Simon Levanian. I hurriedly said, “I promise I’ll do all in my power to help you seek this killer, and give you everything I learn.” And added, more slowly, “I already have plenty to tell.” The silver shard in my pocket felt as heavy as an ingot.

  A faint smile touched her mouth. “I thought you might.” She released my hand, and the pressure in my head vanished. I prayed she hadn’t left any lurking spellwork behind.