Shadow Trapped (The Collector Chronicles Book 3)

by D. K. Holmberg

  They found a tavern that appeared promising. It was boisterous, and the sound of music was drifting from it, enough that Carth thought that she might be able to find the right kind of crowd.

  When she pushed open the door, she found it packed. Most of the people inside had the look of locals, though many of the locals appeared to be fishermen. A crowd near the back of the tavern danced in time to the music, and servers squeezed through the crowd, finding it difficult to do so.

  “This is the wrong sort of place,” Jenna said.

  “Why?” Talia asked.

  Jenna looked at her askance. “There are too many people here. Can’t you see that?”

  Talia’s eyes widened slightly at the retort, and she looked over to Carth.

  “If the crowd is too big, you can’t learn any gossip,” Carth said. “That’s what Jenna was getting at. But a crowd like this can serve another purpose.”

  Jenna frowned. “What you want me to spread?”

  “It has to be enough to convince Linsay that we’ve come through here.”

  Jenna grunted. “I can take care of that.”

  She turned to a table full of men and said something to the nearest of them. Two of the men stood, and one of them reached as if to shove Jenna.

  Talia started forward, but Carth grabbed her, holding her back.

  “Wait.”

  “But she’s going to get in a fight.”

  Carth nodded. “She won’t hurt anyone. She’s doing it to send a message to your sister. If Linsay knows that Jenna was here, she will assume that I was here.”

  “And you’re okay with her fighting?”

  Carth watched Jenna as she punched the first man, ducking underneath the reach of another and spinning to strike a third man in the stomach. Within a few moments, she had knocked down five men.

  “There are times when I think Jenna needs to fight. I wish it weren’t true, but there’s something within her that feeds on it.” As much as she had tried to tamp that urge down, she hadn’t managed. This was a different approach for her, and she hoped that it was the right one.

  “You’re using her.”

  “I’m using her reputation, at least with your sister. Linsay will know that Jenna has a bit of a temper and will believe that she got in a fight. If it had been me, she wouldn’t have been quite as convinced, and it might make her think that we are trying to draw her out.”

  “But we are trying to draw her out.”

  “And she can’t know that. Which is why Jenna is useful here. She will draw the necessary attention, and I suspect your sister will know that we were here, and from there…”

  Jenna re-joined them, barely breathing hard. “Thank you for that.”

  “Are you hurt?” Talia asked.

  Jenna shot her a withering look. “Hurt?” She glanced at Carth before turning her attention back to Talia.

  “I was just…”

  Carth tapped Talia on the arm. “We can go.”

  They stepped out of the tavern, and Talia glanced from Carth to Jenna as they did, but said nothing. Once back on the street, Carth guided them away from the docks until they found another tavern. The inside of this place wasn’t nearly as compact as the last, though there was a minstrel playing and a few people dancing. Carth saw some men dicing in the corner and nodded to them.

  “That’s where I’ll be,” she said.

  “What do you want me to do?” Talia asked.

  “Stay with Jenna. See what you can find out.”

  Jenna frowned. “I don’t need her to watch me to make sure I don’t lose my temper.”

  “I know. I want her to learn from you.”

  “Really? You think she can learn from me?”

  “We all have something we can teach, Jenna,” Carth said.

  As Jenna smiled, Carth hoped that the darkness within her really was fading. It seemed as if it was, but she couldn’t be certain. It was times like this when she looked the closest, trying to see what might still linger.

  “See what you can find out,” Jenna said.

  Carth made her way to the back of the tavern and the men dicing. She pulled up a chair, and the men only shrugged, seemingly unconcerned that a woman was coming to play with them. That wasn’t the case everywhere she had gone. Sometimes there were men who would grow angry at the idea of a woman thinking to dice, and other times they were angry simply because they didn’t like the game disrupted. That happened more often than not, mostly because dicers tended to be superstitious, fearful that her presence disrupted the flow they had already established.

  Carth set a stack of silver and copper coins on the table. “What’s the game?”

  The man nearest her chuckled. “We’ve got a high roller here.”

  “Too rich for you? I’m happy to put my coins back,” she said.

  She reached for the stack, and the man across from her shook his head. “Don’t mind Gregory. He’s angry because he’s lost almost everything tonight.”

  “Only tonight,” Gregory said. “Most nights I’m the one who walks away with full pockets.”

  A third man laughed. “Don’t taunt him, Marcus. You’re not that far ahead.”

  Marcus eyed the stack of coins in front of Carth and ran his fingers across his thin mustache. “Maybe I will be soon enough.”

  Carth shrugged. “So? What are you playing?”

  “Threes.”

  Carth reached for the cup of dice and shook it. Threes was a game of chance—as were most dicing games—but there was a slight element of skill in it. It required the shaker to pick the highest dice from a roll and get the best hand they could. Something like that was generally easy for Carth to manipulate. It didn’t take much for her to influence dice, and she had practice doing so, needing to ensure that she won when it came to it. Was tonight a night when she would influence the dice—or should she let chance dictate what happened?

  The first man went, and he rolled a high hand. The others at the table cheered him on, and when Marcus took the cup, he rolled his dice out, picking out his hand. By the end of his turn, he had rolled a higher round than the last man. The dice worked their way around the table, and Gregory reached for the cup and shook them out across the table. He played his hand out and ended with three sixes. It was a strong roll, and Carth debated what she should do. She considered tying him, wanting to draw out the game, but a losing hand might keep them less suspicious of her.

  She rolled them out and plucked a four from the pile. Another couple rolls, and she ended with two sixes and a five. It was a strong roll, but not one that would beat Gregory’s roll. It was one she hadn’t influenced, either, which helped make it appear more natural.

  The next time around, Carth threw more carefully, guiding her dice so they came up with two sixes and a five. Again it was a strong roll, but Marcus had managed to roll three sixes. Carth was satisfied with losing, not mindful of the fact that she was sacrificing coins—especially as they weren’t her coins.

  After a few more hands, the men loosened up and began talking. That was what Carth had intended.

  “What brought you here?” Marcus asked, looking across the table at Carth.

  Carth glanced at the others. Most had several empty mugs of ale in front of them and were well past inebriated. “What brings anyone through here?”

  Gregory grunted. “Nothing brings people through here. You come to Felst, and you end up staying. Then you end up on a ship, fishing and peeling your fingers raw day after day until the blessed relief of death.”

  “Don’t mind him. He gets that way when he’s been drinking,” Marcus said.

  “He’s like that when he’s sober, too, but usually he keeps those comments to himself,” one of the other men said.

  Carth laughed along with the others and flashed a smile. She did her best to make it disarming, knowing that men like these expected her to defer to them. “I’m after treasure,” she said, lowering her voice so that it came across more conspiratorially.

  “T
reasure?” Gregory asked. “If there’s treasure out there, it’s not going to be any woman who finds it.”

  “Why not?” Carth asked.

  “You got to take your time when you’re looking for treasure, and—”

  The man next to Gregory elbowed him and he fell silent.

  Carth smiled again. “I don’t know, I think that having women around is useful. I imagine you boys think the same.”

  “Gregory is angry that he can’t convince a woman to go around him,” Marcus said.

  Gregory looked up, glaring at Marcus, but turned his attention back to his drink, taking a long draw on his mug. “Always seems to be women who are the treasure hunters. Why do you think that is?” When no one answered, Gregory leaned forward. “Tell you why. Because searching for treasure isn’t hard work. Women don’t want to work if they can avoid it. Most of them would rather just settle down with a man and make him do all the work.”

  “None of my crew is all that interested in settling down with a man,” Carth said, winking at Gregory.

  The other men stared at her for a moment before Marcus began laughing. “Ah, maybe you shouldn’t be telling him that. He might want to come aboard and try to convince them otherwise.”

  “I’m not opposed to having new help, but I prefer it if they’re useful.”

  Gregory glared at her. “I’m useful.”

  “Useful here,” Marcus said. “And useful to finishing your ale. Anything more than that, and you haven’t been useful for a long time.”

  The others laughed, and Gregory stood up angrily, slamming his hands on the table. “Maybe it’s time I leave you behind,” he said. He turned to Carth. “And if you’re looking for treasure, you’re not alone. There was another crew that came through here a few days ago. Good luck keeping ahead of them.”

  As Gregory departed, Carth watched him go, trying to decide whether she should follow and find out what more he knew or if she should simply let him leave. She decided to let him leave. He was too drunk to be of any use, and already angry. It would be unlikely for her to be able to learn anything from him in that state anyway.

  The men continued dicing, and Carth leaned back, rolling out her dice when it was her turn, not bothering to influence the roll. She had mentioned that she was a treasure hunter simply to divert attention, not really thinking that it would matter, but if there had been someone else who had come through, could it have been Linsay?

  Carth had intended to draw her toward her, but maybe Linsay had gotten ahead of her.

  As they played more, Carth asked, “Where did the other treasure hunter go?”

  Marcus looked up at her, a hint of a smile on his face. “Oh, don’t worry. They were heading east. There’s not much there anyway. You’re better off going north and seeing what you can find there.”

  “The north is too settled,” Carth said. “If you’re going to find anything of value, you have to go where others aren’t looking.”

  “Then you’re better off going west. There haven’t been traders from the west for a lot of years.” Marcus said.

  It was the same thing that she’d heard in Keyall, though she wasn’t sure why. What had changed that would have prevented travelers out of the west from coming and trading here?

  Carth got lost in thought as she played, no longer focusing on the game quite as she had been, and eventually, she got up and went looking for Jenna and the others.

  5

  They sailed quickly toward the west. Carth wanted to put distance between them and Keyall, keeping an eye out for other slavers. So far, they had been lucky, not coming across anyone else who might threaten. The sky had banks of clouds that hung low, and they promised rain. Thunder rumbled occasionally, but the seas were calm and the wind was not gusting as it should if storms were to roll in.

  “Are you really going to do this?” Alayna asked.

  Carth stood at the helm, guiding them across the waves. It felt good—right—for her to be sailing, and she had missed the time aboard the ship.

  “It’s not so much what I want to do. I think I need to do this.”

  “So you believe in the Elder Stones now.”

  Carth shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she believed, only that there was a source of power in Keyall, and that source of power had granted Talia a connection to abilities she had not possessed before. When she thought about the A’ras flame, she wondered if that was something similar. Could there be something like that in Ih that would help others connect to the shadows?

  “What do you know about the rumors of power in Elaeavn?”

  Alayna only shrugged. “Anything that is there is nothing more than rumors. The Elvraeth rule, and they are the most heavily gifted by the Great Watcher with abilities.”

  Carth looked over to where Talia sat up in the mast seat, staring out over the sea. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that they would be more powerful than others in the city?”

  Alayna shrugged. “We’ve always been taught that they are gifted with abilities by the Great Watcher, and it’s this gift that has made them stronger than the rest of us. No one questions it because it’s simply the way it is. There’s nothing that we could do to change it, even if we were to want to.”

  “What if there really is something similar to what existed in Keyall? What if there is something that grants them greater strength?”

  Alayna took a deep breath. “If there is something like that, I wonder…” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t. Even if there is something like that, I’m not returning to the city.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was exiled, Carth. I know you had struggles with your own homeland, but when you’re exiled, return means death—or at least, something near enough. I’m not willing to risk that. Besides, I don’t mind the life that I’ve been given now that I’ve left the city. Had I never left, I never would have been able to work with you, and would never have seen any of the things that I have seen. They may have exiled me, but I think the Great Watcher intended for me to leave so that I could be a part of something else—maybe something greater.”

  Carth glanced over at her friend. “I’m thankful that you’re with me. When Linsay abducted you…”

  “I know.”

  Carth hated the helpless feeling that she’d had when Linsay had taken Jenna and Alayna from her. She hated the fact that in one maneuver, she could be placed in a position of needing to try and fight her way for their safety. She was willing to do it. Whatever gods existed knew that she was willing to do it, because she had lost so many already.

  “Why west? If you really think there might be an Elder Stone—or Stones—in Elaeavn, why not simply go there?”

  Carth stared over a larger wave, enjoying the movement of the ship. There was comfort in it, and there was comfort in knowing that she was able to navigate whatever she came across. This ship was similar enough to the Goth Spald, and handled much the same, and for that, she was thankful to Alistan.

  “Because you don’t want to return,” she said to Alayna.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to return. There was a time when that was all I thought about. When I was first exiled, all I could think about was what it would take for me to get back home, but that’s just the thing. When you’re exiled, anyone you know and love is required to forget about you. If they acknowledge your presence, that’s a crime that might end up with their exile. For their own safety, most people simply abide by the rule of the Elvraeth council, and they forget you as they are instructed to do.”

  Carth regarded Alayna for a long moment. “I doubt that anyone has been able to forget you,” she said.

  “That’s the only reason?” Alayna asked.

  Carth stared at the rolling waves. “Probably not.”

  “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  Carth nodded. She feared disrupting the accords, but she also feared drawing the attention of Danis, and if she did, what might he do? Would he attack? Would he think that she had intended to violate the accords and
harm others that she cared about? As her network grew, so did what she could lose. Danis had seemed unconcerned about sacrificing others, but Carth was not him, and she was not willing to use people she cared about in any way that might end up with their death.

  “I can’t confront him. Not yet. I’m not ready.”

  “I think you’re more than ready. Your reasoning for not confronting him is not based on your readiness.”

  “He’s worse than the Collector.”

  “But not as strategic.”

  Carth wasn’t certain about that. From what she had seen of Danis, he might be equally strategic, only in a different way. He had stayed ahead of her, and though she had manipulated him into accepting the accords, she suspected that he would find some way around them eventually. Already he had tried, and it had required Carth taking on a role that she had not wanted to in order to protect others. But would she have to do that indefinitely?

  “I’m not convinced that he’s not also a Tsatsun master.”

  “So not to Elaeavn. We could return to Ih.”

  “We could, but I don’t intend to draw the attention of the Reshian. If I did that, they would be forced to confront Linsay, and…”

  “You don’t want them hurt.”

  Carth let out a frustrated sigh. She took a deep breath of the salty sea air and breathed out again. “I don’t want anyone hurt. But I especially don’t want anyone hurt if there’s anything that I can do to protect them.”

  The Reshian—gifted with shadows, though not shadow born the same was as her—had suffered enough over the years. Carth would like to have tried to protect them if she could, though maybe they didn’t need her help, and maybe they could have helped her.

  “There’s another reason that I want to go this way.”

  Alayna smiled. “I think that I know the reason.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “It’s because no one has—at least not for a while. You want to be the one.”

  “That’s not my reasoning,” Carth said.

  “I can see that it is.”

  Carth shook her head. “It’s the stories that Alistan has been sharing. If there is something to these stories of the Elder Stone, what if there’s something to the west that we can find?”