The Tainted City

by Courtney Schafer

  I said, “I’ll set up a meet with Red Dal. I’ll say I’m acting as middleman for an employer—you—and word the message so he’ll think you’re looking to hire his Tainters for a job. Once at the meet, you’ll demand Melly. I’ll coach you on what to say. I’ll even come with you; Red Dal won’t think it unusual, middlemen often help with negotiations.” Red Dal wouldn’t have believed a solo bid from me, but he’d accept me as a middleman, if I played it right. If he got suspicious, easy enough to convince him Lena had forced me into her employ.

  “First, we go to the embassy,” Lena said. “Marten needs to hear what you know.”

  New energy sped my stride as I followed her out of the workroom. I won’t fail you, I told the Sethan living in my memories. A few hours more, and Melly will be safe at last.

  Chapter Fifteen

  (Dev)

  Watching Jylla and Marten dance around each other at the embassy was better than watching a streetside illusionist’s shadow tale. Jylla clearly wasn’t sure how much I might’ve told Marten about her, and just as obviously, Marten wasn’t certain what she knew of him or the investigation. For my part, I kept a close eye on Marten, trying to figure out if he knew the full tale of my shared past with Jylla. Thank Khalmet, Cara had refrained from explaining the whole sordid mess in her letter to Marten, saying only that I’d lost all my earnings thanks to a business partner’s betrayal. Still, I wouldn’t put it past Marten to have somehow winkled out every last detail.

  If he didn’t already know, he would soon. A prospect that killed all my amusement over their dance.

  But oh, Jylla was good. She agreed readily enough to speak under truth spell, and showed not a flicker of nerves when Marten had her stand in a hastily-drawn sigil in the receiving room, or when Stevan, Lena, and Kessaravil started chanting in soft, shifting harmony. When the spell was in force she answered Marten’s questions without any tell-tale hesitations and in enough detail to keep the Alathians satisfied. Yet without ever telling an actual lie, she managed to downplay our mutual past and imply she’d sought me out because she felt too nervous about approaching a foreign mage directly. To my surprise, she completely avoided mentioning the disappearance of Tainted kids, and to my great relief, she implied that all we’d done in her bedroom was talk about Naidar’s streetside shadow until Kiran interrupted us.

  When she told them of the streetside shadow man, the tense, eager silence of those Alathians not spellcasting betrayed their interest, and Jylla’s mouth curved in a tiny, satisfied smile. She described the man all the way down to the charms he wore on his wrists, and both Marten and Halassian looked as pleased as jennies who’d spotted a rich mark.

  At last, Marten nodded to Stevan, Lena, and Kessaravil, and the sigil on the floor stopped glowing. He bowed to Jylla and said, “I’m sure you’d like the chance for some rest and food after such a difficult experience. If you’ll follow Lieutenant Jenoviann, she’ll arrange a meal and show you to a room.”

  “You’ll keep me safe?” Jylla asked, all winsome entreaty. “Between Naidar’s death and the blood mage this morning, I feel so frightened. But you’ve been so kind—if I could stay here for a time, then when you catch that shadow man, I can confirm his identity for you.”

  Marten patted her shoulder. “An excellent thought. You are welcome to stay at the embassy until this entire unpleasant affair is over.”

  She smiled at him, shy and grateful, and it took an effort not to roll my eyes. But my nerves surged again when she left the room with Jenoviann and they all turned to me.

  “Your turn, Dev.” Marten beckoned me over to the couch he and Halassian shared. A sun-shroud of palest green covered the receiving room’s great window, filtering the midday sun into a soft glow like light seen through lakewater. Frostflower charms dangled from wall brackets; their bone-cold silver spirals weren’t enough to entirely vanquish the day’s fierce heat, but at least the room didn’t feel like a smelter’s oven.

  “What, under truth spell?” I said it with weary sarcasm, as if I didn’t much care. Though I certainly did. I’d follow through on my vow to Lena and not hold back anything directly related to the investigation, but I had plenty else I didn’t want to share with Marten, and I wasn’t sure I could answer quite as cleverly as Jylla.

  Marten chuckled, lightly as if we actually trusted each other. “I don’t think that’s necessary. But please, we’d like to hear your version of events.”

  “Before that, I’ve got news you should know—however the mystery assassin is killing mages and crossing wards, it’s got something to do with the Taint.”

  Marten straightened out of his slouch against the couch pillows. “Why do you say so?”

  “For one thing, I found bits of silver in Aiyalen, right in front of the spell chamber doors.” I slipped the shard free of my pocket and held it up. “Ward lines can’t be shattered by physical force—assuming the ward was designed properly, anyway—but magic can’t block the Taint. Pick the right spot, strike it hard enough, and wham, you’ve got a pile of metal shards and a disrupted ward. The shards aren’t my only evidence, though. This morning, I saw part of the attack on Kiran.”

  “You claim you were in the workroom during the fight?” Stevan eyed me like he was convinced every word out of my mouth without a truth spell in force was a lie.

  “I’m not an idiot, to waltz whistling into a magical battle. But the workroom doors were wide open, and I had a pretty damn good view from the hallway. I got there just when the killer struck at Kiran.” I frowned, searching for words to explain the certainty that had gripped me. “The way Kiran was thrown through the air, like he got swatted by some huge invisible hand, with no fire or flashing or sparking to be seen…that’s exactly what it looks like when somebody gets hit with the Taint.” I thought back to how I’d slammed Ruslan into the tree in Simon’s meadow, and felt my mouth stretch in a hard grin. “Trust me, I know.”

  Talm shifted forward on the couch opposite Marten’s, his expression abruptly intent. “Adults can’t be Tainted. Did you see a child with him?”

  “No,” I said, and looked at Marten and Lena. “You know it’s not impossible for an adult to use the Taint.”

  “Only with the assistance of a powerful blood magic charm, and even then, only for a short while,” Lena said, her dark brows drawn together. “Even wearing Simon Levanian’s charm for such a brief interval nearly killed you. Would have killed you, in fact, if not for long days of effort afterward by our best healers.”

  “The killer might not have to wear such a charm for long, though.” Marten took the silver shard from me and peered at it. “The attack Ruslan’s spell showed us lasted mere minutes. If the killer used the Taint, it would certainly explain why none of the wards activated, and why the mages’ defensive charms did them no good.”

  “If we’re talking about charms made by blood magic, then we’re right back to Ruslan,” Talm said. “Makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? He creates a charm, gives it to someone else to carry out the attacks, and then pretends to hunt them.”

  After a brief, silent struggle with myself, I said reluctantly, “I don’t know. When Ruslan showed up, he looked plenty upset to see Mikail and Kiran hurt.” The gods knew I’d prefer it if Ruslan was behind the attacks. But if he wasn’t, and we chased after him instead of the true killer, the city might pay a horribly steep price.

  Talm looked sour. Halassian rubbed her square jaw, thoughtfully. The complex knot of her gray braids had not a hair out of place, but she still wore a loose, subtly patterned dress instead of a uniform, and leaned against the couch arm with a casual ease that matched Marten’s.

  She said, “The slashes and other physical mutilation seen in the victims…granted, I’m no expert, but you can’t live in Ninavel as long as I have without getting to know something about the Taint. I’ve never heard of a Tainted child being able to cut with it like a knife.”

  They all looked at me. I spread my hands with a shrug. “That’s true. I was Tainted as st
rong as they come, and I couldn’t do that.” I shoved down the memories of all the fun things I had been able to do. “Some kids have better fine control than others, but it’s still more like…like using a sledgehammer rather than a dagger.”

  Stevan said, “If the wounds can’t be made with the Taint, then we’ve no reason to suspect a charm like Simon Levanian’s is being used. The killer could have brought a Tainted child to Aiyalen as part of his attempt to breach the wards. I hardly think a brief glimpse of a magical fight by an untalented man is enough to base a theory on. Unless you have more to support your claim?” He gave me a cold stare.

  Here came the tricky part; I had to play this right if I wanted sanction from Marten for Lena to come streetside, without arousing his suspicion over my motives. “Yeah, I do. Taint thieves have been going missing recently, like somebody’s snatching them, and none of the handlers know why. If it’d been only one kid taken, then I’d say the killer snatched a Tainter just to test Aiyalen’s wards. But to grab multiple kids, from multiple districts…something else is going on.”

  “When did you hear that?” Talm’s hazel eyes had turned awfully sharp. I knew why. He’d been with me all last night as I’d hunted rumors in taverns, and I hadn’t mentioned anything like this to him. He thought I’d been holding out on them—or maybe, like Stevan obviously assumed, that I was lying as part of some scheme of my own.

  I didn’t want to admit that I’d gotten the news from Jylla, since then they’d wonder what else she hadn’t told them. But Lena was watching me with steady intensity; when I’d told her in Naidar’s house of the missing Tainters, I hadn’t mentioned my source by name, but she must suspect it was Jylla. This might be a test on Lena’s part, to see if I’d keep my vow or if I’d lie.

  “Jylla told me,” I said. “She didn’t realize the full significance, though. Otherwise she’d have told you.” I still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t. In the old days, I’d have said she meant to help me, by ensuring I had a bargaining token that’d let me gain advantage with the Alathians. Now, I knew with dead certainty that the only advantage she cared about was her own.

  Talm’s gaze grew all the more piercing, but Marten only turned the shard over in his fingers. “Do you know when this began, or the number of children missing?”

  “Not sure,” I said. “I can find out, if I poke my nose around further. But the streetsiders I need to speak with don’t take kindly to visitors, and have serious wards. I’ll need a mage’s help. Only this time I want Lena with me, not Talm.”

  Marten’s brows lifted. “Why?”

  “You said she’s the best of you at sneaking people through wards. If you don’t want half the district to know what we’re hunting and where we’ve been, I’ll need that.”

  Talm no longer looked suspicious, only amused. He gave me a theatrically soulful look. “I’m hurt. Admit it, Dev. You just want someone prettier than I am at your side.”

  I grinned at him. “Not hard, is it?”

  He laughed. Lena said with her usual calm gravity, “I would be happy to assist you, Dev.” Thank Khalmet, she didn’t betray by so much as a hairsbreadth twitch that we’d spoken of this in advance.

  I felt the weight of Marten’s gaze like a boulder pressing down. But all he said was, “Very well. Dev, I’m certainly in favor of you continuing to have more protection than charms can provide.”

  I was glad of that myself. I hadn’t forgotten Ruslan’s unspoken threat. Maybe his partner Lizaveta couldn’t cast channeled magic against me, but I had a terrible feeling the so-called minor spells Marten had dismissed so readily would be more than enough to leave me a bleeding ruin.

  Talm grew serious again. “Regardless of the assassin’s methods, I’m still convinced Ruslan is the mind behind these attacks. So far he or his apprentices have contaminated every site we’ve been allowed to visit, or chased us out before we could properly search for traces of blood magic.”

  That started everyone arguing about how best to seek traces, and whether blood magic could enhance or even mimic the Taint. I leaned my head on my hand, wishing they’d either shut up and move on, or let me leave the room. All this hunting rumors at night and wardfire by day meant I was running awfully short on sleep. I’d need at least a few hours before I faced Red Dal tonight, or I’d regret it.

  Marten gave me a sympathetic look when I yawned wide enough to make my jaw crack.

  “Dev, if you’ll give us a quick recounting of the rest of your time in Naidar’s house, then I promise we’ll let you get some rest.”

  I smiled inwardly. Perfect. Now if they ever found out I’d skipped over a few things—like my moment of idiocy with Jylla—I could always say I’d forgotten to mention it out of sheer exhaustion. I rattled off a brief account, sticking to bare facts. I didn’t mention the spell diagram or Kiran’s reaction to it, though I did explain how he’d saved my life with his magic.

  What a mistake that was. Khalmet’s hand, you’d think Ruslan had been the one to work the spell, the way Stevan carried on about the dangers of lingering bindings. He insisted on all of them checking me over with magic, which took forever, involved a lot of chanting, and made me feel as if ants were crawling all over my skin. I bore it with gritted teeth and a lot of murderous looks at Stevan, who pretended not to notice. Fucking asshole.

  Finally, Marten said I could go, though he stood and dogged my heels as I made for the archway. Just outside the receiving room, he put out a hand to halt me.

  “Dev, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear of Kiran’s concern for you, and his refusal to hurt Jylla. I had feared…”

  “Feared what?” I demanded. “That Stevan is right about him? You know better than that, Marten.”

  Marten said, “I’m well aware of Stevan’s prejudice. Yet that prejudice is not without a grain of truth. I’ve told you I saw Kiran’s memories at his trial. Even as a child, Kiran had a certain empathy for others…yet before he met Alisa, Ruslan was well on his way to training Kiran into restricting that empathy to Ruslan’s little coterie and burying all qualms beneath his love for magic. Alisa was the one to open Kiran’s eyes to the worth of untalented lives and plant the seeds that would grow into rebellion. Without her influence, I fear Kiran would have readily become a blood mage, fiercely loyal to Ruslan just as Ruslan desired him to be.”

  I remembered Marten’s insistence I find out how much time Kiran had lost. “You thought that if Ruslan took all Kiran’s memories of Alisa, that’d…what? Erase Kiran’s conscience, leave him happy to murder and torture people?” Thank Khalmet, Kiran had proved that theory wrong.

  “Let us say that I think it leaves Kiran dangerously susceptible to Ruslan’s influence,” Marten said. “Which makes yours all the more important. Kiran’s memories may be gone, but I believe some remnant of the emotional responses built by those memories remains. Ruslan will try to change that in Kiran. You must do what you can to counter Ruslan in this, stop him from coaxing Kiran down a path that would make it impossible for him to seek refuge again in Alathia.”

  I saw Marten’s game now. This would be his excuse for ditching Kiran once the investigation was over. He’d claim Kiran had become too much of a blood mage, and shuffle off the blame onto my shoulders for not “countering” Ruslan as he’d asked. For fuck’s sake, how did he expect me to influence Kiran when I could barely get near him?

  Familiar fury bubbled up inside. But I only smiled—a thin, tight smile—and said, “I’ll do all I can.” All I can to free him despite you, you lying weasel.

  Marten beamed at me. “Good. Sleep well, Dev.”

  Instead of stabbing him, I headed straight for my room. Only to find Jylla perched demurely on one of the two beds and Jenoviann nowhere in sight.

  “You are not sleeping in that bed,” I snarled, ready to march back to demand other quarters.

  “Oh, they gave me a bed elsewhere,” Jylla said. “I told Jenoviann I wanted the chance to thank you privately. Besides, Dev, why so stingy with your spac
e? You certainly didn’t mind getting close earlier.” Her eyes traveled my body, her lips curving in a teasing grin.

  “Sure, when I thought you had something useful to offer.” I said it with all the casual contempt I could muster.

  “Hmmm.” Jylla toyed with one of her opal earrings, watching me through long, black lashes. “I saw your face when you thought the blood mage would kill me.”

  “Just because I didn’t want him to kill you doesn’t mean I want you in my bed. Or anywhere else near me.” I aimed a pointed look at the door.

  “What about my help?” Jylla said. “I also saw how you look at the Alathians, especially Martennan. He’s got something over you to make you dance to his tune, doesn’t he? You want off his leash, you know that’s the kind of game I’m good at.”

  I’d tried not to betray my hatred of Marten in front of her, but I should’ve known she’d see it anyway. She’d always been able to read me as easily as if I shouted every thought aloud. Horribly, I was tempted to take her up on her offer—because if anyone could outwit Marten, she could. But no, no, no.

  “I’ve already got a partner in this. Someone I trust. Unlike you.”

  Surprise widened Jylla’s eyes. “A partner? You do move quickly. Who?”

  I shook my head, unwilling to say Cara’s name. But Jylla’s head tilted, her expression gone thoughtful. “No, wait, let me guess…I heard that outrider friend of yours, Cara, came back alone from Alathia and then turned down a bunch of convoy jobs to hang around the city all summer instead. Suliyya knows she always eyed you like she wanted to drag you off and tie you up as her jenny-slave. How long did it take her once she heard you and I split to ditch her silly rule? Two heartbeats, three?”

  “She hasn’t broken her rule,” I snapped. “Know why? I’m no longer an outrider. Thanks to you.”

  “Funny, I don’t recall asking anyone to blacklist you,” Jylla said. “I thought you’d keep right on playing in the mountains, not decide to throw yourself hip deep in mages. But now that you are…sure, I bet Cara’s great on a climb. Maybe even between the sheets—Suliyya knows she’s got enough experience there with all those traders she’s bedded. But playing against mages? Look me in the eye and tell me I’m not the better choice.”