“Livestock,” Kalas supplied. “Yes, we have been. Which is why we are being so forgiving now, giving you an opportunity to rectify your error. We need them by the evening of the thirteenth.”
“What is today, Corman?” Fenmere asked.
“The tenth, sir.”
“Three days, then.” Fenmere put on his best smile. “I’m sure my people will come through in that time—”
“Find my items!” Sirath hissed. He stood up from the table, grabbing the other half of the bread loaf he had mangled earlier.
“So commands Lord Sirath.” Kalas nodded as he stood up.
Gerrick coughed loudly. “I was wondering, Lord Sirath. Where is your estate?”
“What?” Sirath spat out, turning back to Gerrick.
“I was curious,” Gerrick said. Sirath fumed, his eyes piercing, but Gerrick held his ground. This was why Fenmere loved Gerrick so much: no one scared him. “As you are a lord, there must be an estate to go with the title. What are your parentage and holdings?”
“Bah! I need no parentage or holdings!” Sirath spat, and the plate sitting in front of Gerrick shattered. Despite being struck by eggs and porcelain, Gerrick did not flinch.
“As you say,” Gerrick said. Sirath stalked out toward the main door.
“Three days, Mister Fenmere,” Kalas said. “The Circle of the Blue Hand cannot spare any more. Good day to you.” He nodded and followed Sirath out.
As soon as the door closed, Fenmere let out the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. “That went poorly,” Fenmere said. “What else is there?”
“The Thorn struck again last night,” Corman said. “Mister Nevin is waiting in the back courtyard.”
“Nevin?” Fenmere asked. He jogged his memory. “Dealer boss?”
“Yes, sir. Shall we?” Corman got up from the table, leading the way.
Gerrick followed behind, wiping off his coat. “Ridiculous!” he muttered as they went into the kitchen. “You can’t just decide on a whim to call yourself ‘Lord this’ just because you feel like it!”
“That’s the part you’re angry about?” Corman said.
“I’m angry about a lot of things,” Gerrick said, “but that just finishes it. It’s pretentious and presumptuous. Why the blazes does he think he’s better than us, and why should we take it?”
“The Circle makes a useful ally, Gerrick,” Fenmere said. “We’ll put up with that. At least until we rectify matters on our end.”
“Great wizard or no, if he keeps up that attitude, I’ll put a knife in his belly.”
“Not today, Gerrick,” Fenmere said, hard as stone. He led the way out through the kitchen to the back courtyard, where Nevin waited. Nevin’s face was a mess of bruises, one arm in a sling. He managed to look contrite and angry at the same time, holding his cap in his good hand, while his eyes burned.
“Mister Fenmere, sir,” he said. “Sorry to say, I let you down.”
“You had a run-in with the Thorn,” Fenmere said.
“He came to my flop. My boys, it seems, gave me away. I’ll attend to that.”
“I’m sure you will, Nevin. You get a good look at him?”
“Afraid not, sir,” Nevin said. “Gave him a right good scrap, though. Weren’t for his fancy rope, I’d have had him.”
“Rope?” Fenmere asked. His blood began to boil again. “He was using a rope?”
“Oy, yes. Threw me out the window with it.”
“He’s using it?” Fenmere said half to himself. “That confirms it. The Thorn is a blasted mage!”
“He is?” Nevin asked. “That explains what my boys said.”
“I’ve underestimated him, then,” Fenmere said. He clapped Nevin on his good arm. “You gave him a good fight, though?”
“Best I had, sir,” Nevin said. “Wasn’t good enough.”
“All right,” Fenmere said. Nevin was the right sort. Fenmere knew better than to punish him further for just getting beat. “You take care of the squealers you’ve got, you hear?”
“Trust me. They’ll be wishing they were in the river by noon.”
“Good man.”
“He threw my flat, though, sir. Found my lockbox.”
“You lost money?” Fenmere said.
“A few hundred, sir, but that’s my problem. I’ll round that back up.” Fenmere nodded. Nevin cleaned up his own messes, and took responsibility. He wished he had more men like Nevin. “But my book was in there as well.”
“The book’s in code, though, right?” Gerrick said. “Shouldn’t matter.”
Fenmere thought it through, stroking his beard. “The Thorn is clever, and we’ve been underestimating him. He might break the code.”
“He does, he’ll know when the next effitte drop-off is,” said Nevin. “That seems to be what he cares about.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“That’s what my boys told me. He was on a tear about keeping effitte from crossing Waterpath.”
Fenmere paced around the courtyard. “When is the next drop-off for Nevin, Gerrick?”
“Two days from now. Midnight in the park. I can move things around with—”
“No, no. Keep that drop as planned. In fact, put some whispers in the street that it’s got to be a big one to make up for the losses. And make sure those reach the Aventil gangs. If the Thorn isn’t an Aventil, or at least friendly with them, I’d eat my hat.”
“You’re thinking bait,” Corman said. “How many boys should I round up to jump him?”
“None. That might reach the Aventil gangs as well. No, quiet, and out of our house.”
“We’re not going to look for him?” Corman asked.
“Of course we are,” Fenmere said. “Tear up every blazing rock and house in both neighborhoods. But if we don’t find him that way, we need another plan in place. Gerrick, how much do the Three Dogs cost?”
“A thousand crowns,” Gerrick said. “Each.”
“Send them word,” Fenmere said. “We’ll need them two nights from now. And tell them there’s another thousand bonus for whichever of them kills the Thorn. I want him plucked out.”
Veranix gradually awoke, sunlight pushing its way through his closed eyelids. Hushed voices whispered near him. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, unsure of where he might be or how he got there.
The first thing he saw was the red and green uniform of a city constable.
He wasn’t exactly sure where he was. It wasn’t his room, or anywhere in Almers, but it was definitely somewhere on campus. He was in a bed, in a bright, sunlit room, the walls whitewashed and clean. He was in quite a lot of pain, but his wounds were dressed. The constable was quietly questioning Delmin, who, for his part, looked as nervous as Veranix had ever seen him. Professor Alimen was there as well, and the rough-looking gray-haired man that Veranix knew was Master Jolen, the head groundskeeper. Rellings was in the room as well, pacing back and forth, fuming silently.
“Where . . . what?” Veranix tried to say. His throat was dry, making it almost impossible to speak.
“Mister Calbert,” Professor Alimen said warmly. All eyes turned to Veranix. “Glad to see you are back with us.”
“Professor, I—” Veranix wasn’t sure what to say, or how to read the situation.
“It’s all right, Vee,” Delmin said quickly. “You’re safe now, in the University’s hospital ward.”
“How did I—”
“I’m Lieutenant Benvin, from the Aventil stationhouse,” the constable said. He had the dripping honey accent of eastern Druthal. Monim, probably. Veranix never cared for the people out east. Or Constabulary, for that matter. “It seems the Napa girl found you on the lawn. Beaten, stabbed, and almost stark naked.”
“Naked?” Veranix said.
“I had told them, Vee, about how we went for a doctor in
Aventil, and we got separated. And I didn’t see you after that.”
“He should be expelled!” Rellings shouted from the back of the room.
“Mister Rellings, your opinion has been heard,” Professor Alimen said. “We do not expel students for being attacked when off the grounds.”
“But he was out of—”
“We have been forced to expel one student, Mister Rellings. I would think that would satisfy your morbid desire for discipline.”
“Now,” Lieutenant Benvin said, “you do confirm that it was not the Napa girl who attacked you.”
Master Jolen growled out, “That girl’s a right pain, but she’s no thief or rustler.”
Lieutenant Benvin frowned at Jolen. “So you say.”
“No, no,” Veranix said. He gestured to a jug sitting on a nearby table. Delmin ran over and poured a cup of water for him. Veranix drank it down deeply. “She didn’t hurt me. Never.”
“Very well, then, Mister Calbert,” Lieutenant Benvin said. “If you can give me some details of what happened, Mister Calbert. For instance, where were you?”
Veranix was about to tell him Dentonhill. Throwing a bit of additional heat in the neighborhood from the constabs appealed to him. Then he realized that the last thing he needed was any word going around Fenmere’s boys that could lead back to him.
“Aventil,” he said. “Down by Drum Street.”
“See?” Delmin said, “I told you, we got split up in Aventil.”
“Thank you, Mister Sarren,” Professor Alimen said dismissively.
“Drum and where?” the constable asked.
“Not sure,” Veranix said. “Maybe Bear?”
Lieutenant Benvin nodded. “Drum and Bear. Did you get a look at who attacked you?”
“It was a group that jumped me.”
“It would have to be a whole group to get the jump on you, Mister Calbert.” Professor Alimen grinned amiably.
“All looked the same. Green caps.” Veranix added.
“Green caps, eh?” Lieutenant Benvin’s face brightend. “That’s something.” Veranix knew exactly what. Hallaran’s Boys wore green caps. The gang was a rival to Colin’s Rose Street Princes. Giving them a hard time might even shift the balance of power in Aventil a bit in the Princes’ favor.
“Think so,” Veranix said. “It’s all a blur.”
“Seems they were more into beating you than money,” Benvin added. “They kept you all night.”
“I did put up a bit of a fight,” Veranix said.
“And did you get away, or did they let you go?”
“Got away,” Veranix said.
“Now, you were a good ten blocks from the campus. Why did you work your way back up here? Why not use a whistlebox and call Constabulary or Yellowshields?”
Veranix was starting to wonder about this constab lieutenant. Most of the whistleboxes in Aventil had been torn up: no door, no whistle. Even if you found a decent one and put out a call, almost no sticks or shields would come.
“I didn’t want to draw notice,” Veranix said. “Blow the whistle, and I might just bring the green caps back.”
“All right.” Benvin patted Veranix on his good shoulder. “The saints were watching over you. You are a lucky young man.”
“Thank you, sir,” Veranix said. The constable nodded to all, put on his cap, and left the ward. Wordlessly, Mister Jolen went out with him.
“Now, Mister Calbert,” said Professor Alimen, sitting down on the edge of the cot. “Given that you are expected to make a full recovery, I see no reason to not see you at the next lecture. You missed today’s. And you should be fully rested, so there should also be no reason for dozing off.”
“As you say, Professor,” Veranix said.
“Good,” said Professor Alimen. “Very good, indeed. I think we will take it easy on you in the practicals, however.”
Rellings was still fuming in the back of the room. “This is unacceptable, Professor! An incident like this should be investigated, and Calbert should have to face an inquiry.”
Professor Alimen stood up and turned to Rellings, his face dark and scowling. “Mister Rellings, if anything should be investigated, it should be your own standing as a prefect. Perhaps we should look into why one of your charges was bringing drugs in to your floor of your building, and how you didn’t see any problems with him until it was too late to help him! Perhaps if you were more concerned with treating the students under you as peers that you can mentor and guide—the role that a prefect is supposed to fulfill—and less concerned with trying to puff yourself up with the petty degree of authority you have been granted, incidents like this would not occur!” His voice was only a fraction louder at the end, but he spoke with such force that it seemed to knock all the air out of Rellings.
“Yes, Professor,” Rellings said, staring at his feet.
“Very well,” Professor Alimen said. “Let’s leave Mister Calbert to rest, and you will join me in addressing the rest of the students in Almers.”
“May I remain with Veranix, sir?” Delmin asked.
“If that’s acceptable to Mister Calbert, of course. But do not tax him too much.”
“It’s fine, sir,” Veranix said. “Thank you for your help, sir.”
“Of course, Mister Calbert. I will see you tomorrow.” He gave Veranix another jovial pat and left the ward room, Rellings in tow. Delmin sat down on the edge of the bed. He said nothing; he just shook his head.
“So,” Veranix said after a moment, “are we going the route of awkward silence, then?”
“I just want to know what the blazes you were thinking, Vee,” Delmin said.
“I was thinking that I didn’t want another drop of that junk coming onto campus!” Veranix said.
“And that’s the real reason you’ve been going out all the time?” Delmin asked.
“Well . . . wait.” Veranix sat up. His head started swimming from changing positions. “How much do you know?”
“I know you’ve been lying to me for years, Vee,” Delmin said. He stared hard, his jaw clenched. It suddenly occurred to Veranix this was the most upset he had ever seen Delmin. He was so used to seeing a goofy smile cracked across his face, it was like a different person was in the room with him. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” Veranix said. Not until he said it did he realize how much he meant it.
Delmin shook his head. “How many times have I covered for you, lied for you? I thought you were just having a lark with that girl, and . . . now I don’t even know what.”
“You’ve helped me a lot, Del,” Veranix said. “I appreciate that, I do . . . but—”
“But what? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go and tell Professor Alimen what you’ve been up to. Why shouldn’t I let you get expelled? Why have you been lying to me?”
Delmin was fuming, his eyes red.
“Because this was my fight, Del,” Veranix said quietly. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t afford having anyone know the whole truth about me. Who I really am. Where I came from. I . . . I didn’t know who I could trust with that.”
“Three years, Vee! Three years we’ve lived in the same room, and for three years I’ve not once—”
“You’re right, Del,” Veranix said. “You’re absolutely right.”
“You’re damn right I’m right,” Delmin said. “So you’re going to tell me the truth now?”
“I am,” Veranix said. He managed a weak smile. It felt good just to say that to Delmin. “What exactly happened to bring me here? I remember getting here last night, but I wasn’t naked.”
“Well, you were when I first saw you,” Delmin said.
“So . . . did you see Kaiana? Or talk to her?”
“Kaiana being the dark girl in the carriage house? I saw her, but I’ve never talked to her,” Delmin said. �
��The groundskeeper sent her away as soon as possible. So, does she know what you do?”
Veranix nodded. “She and I have something in common.” With a heavy groan, he pulled himself up and got out of the bed. “You have some clothes for me?”
“You shouldn’t be getting up, Vee,” Delmin said.
“That’s what every muscle is telling me. But I need to go talk to Kai. And I may as well bring you along. You know enough about what I’m doing, and I need your opinion about something.”
Delmin handed Veranix a bundle of clothes. “Here’s an opinion. Stop it. You almost got killed last night!”
“I got hurt, Delmin. There’s a big difference.” He slowly pulled his shirt on and laced up the front.
“Hurt bad,” Delmin said.
“It was quite the fight,” Veranix said, grinning despite himself. He finished putting on pants and shoes. “No coat?”
“Frankly, when I got your clothes, I wasn’t sure if you’d still have the privilege to wear it. If I had told the truth—”
“I know, I know,” Veranix said. “I really do appreciate it, Del.”
“Right,” Delmin said. He shook his head disapprovingly, but smiled for the first time.
“So, I guess Parsons is expelled, then,” Veranix said.
“On paper, but it hardly matters. He woke up, but he’s . . . he’s not there.”
“Effitte-trance,” Veranix said. He felt his blood boil, and gritted his teeth to keep his temper from overtaking him. “An overdose, or a bad dose, destroys the mind. They’re taking him to the fifth floor of the Lower Trenn Street Ward, right?”
“That’s what Professor Alimen said. You know all about it, I guess.”
Veranix took a moment, gathering the strength to walk as well as tell Delmin. “My mother and Kaiana’s father are in the same place.”
“The same place?” Delmin asked. “I thought your parents were dead.”
“My mother isn’t dead. She’s been up on the fifth floor for almost three years.”
“For three . . . sweet blasted saints, Vee! Why didn’t you—”
“Come on,” Veranix cut him off. He limped out the door. “I’ll tell you the rest while we go talk to Kaiana. I’ve got something I need to show you.”
The Thorn of Dentonhill Page 12
