by Brian Keller
*****
It had become difficult, challenging at best, to manage to collect enough coin to feed himself. Information was a different matter entirely. It was a simple thing to gather enough information to keep the House Father off his back, but that did little to quiet the grumbling in his belly. Bennet considered changing his ‘hunting grounds’. It was becoming simply too risky to pick pockets and cut purses with so many Watch soldiers covering the Waterfront. He’d need to see how the other kids managed to cross the Bridges to the Trade Quarter.
It was his turn to organize some of the clutter and dispose of the garbage that had accumulated in the House during the past few days. The House Father insisted, on numerous occasions, the importance of keeping a fairly clean House, stating, “It’s bad enough having all you two-footed vermin underfoot. Leave trash lying about and before you know it you’ll be sharing your space with hordes of four-footed vermin. Keep this place tidy or I’ll throw everything out. All’a you included. Get me?”
He’d already bundled up the worst of the rubbish when the outside door opened, letting a stripe of morning sunlight paint the floor and part of the opposing wall. Bennet recognized the person coming in immediately, the red hair fairly blazed in the sunlight, Rukle.
Bennet scuttled to the farthest corner, ashamed to display fear but not so foolish as to pretend otherwise. Rukle was accompanied by another. One thing Bennet knew, Rukle was never alone when he visited. This time it wasn’t the ‘other one’; the one he’d seen earlier on the boardwalk. This one was someone he hadn’t seen before. Rukle looked agitated, not nervous or afraid, just excited. Like he expected there might be the chance of doing violence on someone and he was actually hoping for it. This other one was a few years younger, and looked completely calm. The boy looked around the room before his gaze settled on Bennet. He offered neither recognition nor greeting but Bennet felt he was being assessed in some way. The boy turned to listen to the discussion between Rukle and his House Father. It sounded like Rukle was pleased with the information but disappointed in the amount of coin. The House Father smiled and spoke a few words. Bennet heard his own name spoken and a few seconds later the House Father gestured in the general direction of where Bennet had been standing. When heads turned to look, he was already gone.
*****
It was nearly lunchtime and he’d spoken with four craftsmen already. After discussing the project on his fifth attempt, he felt confident that the man understood what he wanted. By then, Cooper had described what he needed so many times that he rattled it off with practiced ease. They settled on a price, which was higher than expected but he didn’t haggle since he needed it in less than thirty days. As he left, he told the smith, “There’s an extra gold crown for you if it’s done in three weeks. It might not be me who picks it up, though.” The smith nodded, “Well, whoever comes for it better not come alone. And they’d better bring a wagon. It’ll take several stout men just to get it into the wagon.” Cooper hadn’t thought of that. Considering the fact that the smith would probably need to hire a couple of temporary assistants just to handle the workpiece, perhaps the price wasn’t as high as he’d first thought.
He returned to the Ruins and was greeted by Mister Ysel waving him over. The man had initially gone right to work on regaining his lost weight and had started growing a beard, though recently his consumption had slowed. He was wearing a new set of clothes and was turning to model them for Birt and Miss Camilla. He called out to Cooper, “What do you think?” Mister Ysel had trimmed his beard down to a fastidious goatee and had changed his hair. As the man turned to face him, his entire posture and demeanor changed. Cooper tensed and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, “You look like Jarell. On purpose, I’m guessing. That’s supposed to be a good thing?” He unclenched his hand, which had involuntarily formed a fist. Miss Camilla smiled and clapped her hands, “Judging Cooper’s reaction, you’ve more than just a passing resemblance.” Birt shook his head, “I still don’t see it.” Cooper replied, “No. He’s got it. His skin tone isn’t right but otherwise… unless you knew Jarell or had at least spoken with him… but why?” Mister Ysel’s posture and demeanor changed, and he was once again Cooper’s Etiquette teacher, “Why? Because Jarell purchased the Ruins. He might not be known to the Planning Council, but as long as I maintain a passing resemblance, it’ll prevent the need for convoluted explanations and extensive bona fides. Any of which could be cause for increased scrutiny which, I don’t have to tell you, is something better avoided. If changing my appearance and acting the part helps to put councilmen at ease, then it’s worth it.” Cooper chuckled, “If Rayna or Lash shows up out of the blue, be prepared to drop the charade quickly and loudly. They might not know yet that the real Jarell is dead.” This brought Mister Ysel up short, “Oh. Yes. I hadn’t considered that.” The man glanced around nervously, as if expecting to see a determined Guild Assassin walk around a nearby corner. Birt teased, “Just stay next to Cooper. If anyone were to see Cooper and Jarell standing together, they’d know something wasn’t right. Just a minute ago, Cooper looked like he was preparing to kill Jarell again.” Cooper's mind went back to when he’d found Jarell’s corpse, lying on the ground near the almost materialized spirit of the Mad Wizard. Cooper hadn’t been the one to kill Jarell, but he’d taken credit for it because that was easier than trying to explain what had actually happened. The end result remained the same.
Cooper turned to Birt, changing the subject, “Where are we with the Griffin and Gilded Feather project?” Birt brushed some non-existent dust from one of his sleeves as he smiled, “Very well, thank you. We’ve already closed off the street entrance to the Feather and have put in the adjoining door between the two establishments. The bruisers we’ve employed to watch the door and keep order in the Griffin are former Enforcers who sought to become freelance sellswords when the Guild was raided. They’ve only recently discovered that they are now in the Guild’s employ. It’s an excellent arrangement. Keeping them as ‘sellswords’ lets us remain involved while helping to minimize the Guild’s overt presence.” Cooper nodded, “I was actually asking less about personnel and more about the remodel.” Birt took a quick breath, “Of course. Well, most of the work is superficial; paint, curtains, upholstered furniture, and few tapestries to cover some rough patches in the walls. We should be open for business in less than a month!” Almost as an afterthought Birt added, “Oh, and I had mentioned the Enforcers because they almost had an altercation with one of the men from the Planning Council and his entourage, and on another occasion they’d almost escorted a tax assessor completely off the premises before he managed to identify himself. Once he’d presented proper credentials, he was allowed to enter and inspect. Such a glorious and profitable distraction!” Cooper replied, “Glorious, perhaps. ‘Profitable’ remains to be seen.” Birt responded as if insulted, “The Griffin remains open for business, though we’ve had to push tables and chairs to one side so workmen can bring in materials and furnishings. It’s creating quite a stir. As soon as one Griffin customer gets up to leave, someone else takes their place. Everyone’s trying to sneak a peek inside the Feather. We’ve gone through all the old stock the Griffin had on hand and we’re already cracking new barrels and ordering more.” Cooper held his hands up, “I stand corrected. In a few years we can all retire. You’re a genius.” Birt sniffed, “Well, you did ask. Satisfied?” Cooper chuckled, “And then some.”
Birt continued to look insulted but he recovered when he brought up a new topic, “Mister Ysel and I have been discussing Development.” Birt paused to see if he still had Cooper’s attention. Cooper waved him on, “And?” Birt settled into a businesslike tone, “We’ve concluded that vendor carts would be a bad idea. More commerce means more income, but other considerations make that much less appealing.” Despite himself, Cooper was interested, “What considerations?” Birt smiled, “Because according to Paleros mandate, curbside vendors are regulated solely by the Merchant Council. All we’d
get out of it is more interference from tax collectors, more mess and crowded streets.” Birt crossed his arms over his chest with a satisfied nod. Cooper shrugged, “Alright. No street vendors. Simple enough.” Birt let his arms drop and his expression became uncertain, “That isn’t all of it.” Cooper sighed, “Of course it isn’t. What else?” Birt proceeded with some hesitation, “Well, we’ve discussed the wisdom of purchasing some of the bordering plots in Batter’s Field.” By the time Birt finished the sentence, he was almost mumbling. Cooper leaned forward, “We’re still just talking, right? Other than a few Houses, we’re not part owner of Batter’s Field already, are we?” Birt held his palms out, “Right! We’re just talking, but listen!” Cooper settled backward, relieved, “I’m listening.” Birt laid out the concept, “We could buy a few properties just outside the Ruins, along the main roads coming in. We set up businesses or whatever at those locations, but we allow street vendors there. As many of them as we can wedge in there, in fact, even if we own them ourselves. Incoming tax assessors will get bogged down there as they sort out their collections.” Cooper hadn’t interrupted and Birt was gaining confidence, “We’ll see them coming an hour before they enter the Ruins! The same goes for any City Watch or Army patrols. The Batter’s Field vendors will become our early warning mechanism.” Cooper tilted his head, “What about the Waterfront? Are we buying up property there, too?” Birt shook his head, “We predict that the Waterfront will take care of itself. They’ll expand their markets and street vendors right up to the boundary road to capitalize on our development here. We won’t need to do anything there, but we can make profits there based on our usual collections.” Cooper still sounded doubtful, “What’ll it cost?” Birt replied, “We don’t know. We didn’t want to spend more time on it until we knew what you thought.” Cooper shrugged, “It makes sense but aren’t we going to have our hands full just trying to build businesses here in the Ruins?” Birt’s face broke into a wide smile, “We’ve already signed contracts with eight merchants, most of them along the edges of the Ruins, just this side of where Batter’s Field borders the Waterfront.” Cooper nodded, “Those are prime spots, easy to get goods in from the port, but not far from the Bridges.” Birt nodded, “Once those merchants start up, and don’t fall victim to ‘the dangers of the Ruins’, we’ll be getting flooded with contracts. Mister Ysel will probably need to create an actual agency to manage the transactions.” Cooper had an answer, “Pick someone to handle the accounts. Once we’ve recovered from the prison break, we’ll see about assigning some Enforcers to that.” Mentioning the raid on the prison had a sobering effect of Birt, “I know you’ve planned for that, backwards and forwards, but we really don’t know what to expect, do we? I mean, no one’s ever done it, or even tried it.” Cooper shrugged, “But that’s what you do for family, isn’t it? If Miss Camilla was in there, we’d go and get her out, right? Or if you were there?” Birt took a deep breath, “You’re right, but afterward… the Army will never ‘just leave us alone’ afterward.” Cooper clapped a hand on Birt’s shoulder, “I’m working on that.”
After lunch, Utsef put his belongings back into his pack and spent a few minutes arranging them. Cooper noticed the man’s preparations, “Leaving already?” Utsef nodded, “We’ve gone over the jailbreak and the recovery as much as we really can without knowing the layout of the prison. That’s something you’ll just have to work through. It shouldn’t be overly complicated. Prisons are designed to keep people in, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy to gain entry.” He rummaged around in his pack a little more, mumbling, “Everything sits differently without that bag I handed over to Camilla.” He shifted a few more items then tied the bag closed and smoothed over the top flap with a satisfied expression. Cooper asked, “You’ll be back?” Utsef shrugged, “Probably. I’ll likely come back every few months. At least until you start sending students again.” Cooper extended his hand. Utsef accepted the handshake then bent and shouldered his pack, “I’ll check with Camilla on my way out and see if there are any specific plants she might want me to bring the next time I come in.” Cooper thought about the full greenhouse and herbarium that had been alongside Miss Camilla’s classroom, and remembered how it looked when he and Loryn had been searching for a way into the library. It would take years to replace all that.
Chapter 19
There was still an important detail to discuss with Mardon. Cooper went to the treasury, taking the time to sift through the gems and select two, a deep-green peridot and a vibrant amethyst. The time was drawing nearer, but the anticipation could sometimes cause people to act unpredictably. While the man seemed honorable and trustworthy, Cooper still preferred to leave the First Merchant holding a significant balance ‘on account’ to help secure his loyalty.
It was a quick walk through the Waterfront to reach the First’s ship. Upon boarding, Mardon greeted him with a wink, “Of course I recognized you immediately, but dressed as you are, you seem smaller somehow.” Cooper hadn’t worn his Guild leathers for several days. He wondered how they’d feel when he pulled them on again. He nodded towards the hatch that led below deck, “Do you have time to discuss a little business? It won’t take more than a few minutes.” Mardon furrowed his eyebrows, “I have an appointment very soon. Can this wait until later? This evening, perhaps?” Cooper held the two gems in his fist. He opened his hand to display them, “It really will take only a few minutes. We need not even go below to discuss it. The matter should even appeal to you. It concerns the mooring of certain ships.” Cooper raised an eyebrow, “You have influence with the workers on the docks, right?” Mardon’s eyes grew wider at the sight of the gems, then he squinted at Cooper as he replied, “Yes. I have ‘influence’, as you say.” Cooper nodded, satisfied, as he offered the gems to the First. Mardon accepted them and Cooper leaned in to speak in hushed tones.
Less than two minutes later Cooper was crossing onto the neighboring vessel, on his way back toward the Waterfront. Mardon watched him leave, then with an amused and slightly disbelieving expression and a brief shake of his head, the man slipped both gems into his pouch.
****
It had been almost two weeks since anyone had reported any Apex-related information. During times like these it wasn’t uncommon for Yoren to express his frustrations to her. Today was such a day.
Yoren had knocked loudly on her door and barged in as soon as he heard the latch being lifted, “Nothing! The Watch has heard nothing! You have offered me nothing! How am I to perform my duties if I have no information to work with?” Iona had no answer and, in fact, it wouldn’t matter if she had. The Spymaster was simply venting and her best course of action was to let him rant and hope to avoid catching the brunt of it. He turned his attention to her, “You tell me you can only detect him when he uses his Gift? How can it be that you haven’t felt anything from him in over a month?! Am I to believe that he doesn’t use his Manifested Talent? For anything?” Iona opened her mouth to correct him, then thought better of it. Explaining that Talent usage and Channeling were distinctly separate acts would do little more than increase his agitation. “I have no explanation, sir. I only know that I haven’t felt anything of him recently. Perhaps he knows that the University has Hunters like me, and only Channels when he truly needs too.” Her mind went back to the event in the Ruins. That occasion felt like being caught in storm even though she was some distance away. Even the next day, examining the spot in the Ruins where the event took place, the ground fairly vibrated with residual energy. Even the air felt like it still held a charge. She’d taken that opportunity to completely attune herself to his signature, though it was a bit of a challenge considering that the site was saturated with not one, but two Gifted signatures. The fact that she’d attuned her senses is what allowed her to detect the next use of his Gift; at the quarry. But since then, nothing.
Yoren had seated himself and he’d regained control of his agitation. He was recounting what he knew, “The Gifted boy-”. “Cooper.” Iona interru
pted, “We were told his name is “Cooper”, sir.” Yoren chafed slightly at the interruption, “Cooper killed Lord Talmet, so we can assume that he’s an Assassin of some kind. So he’s likely to have been a member of the Guild. But you were already on his scent by then. Tell me where you’d detected him before.” Iona protested, “We’ve discussed this a dozen times already.” Yoren’s anger threatened to resurface, “We’ll discuss it again. Locations and circumstances. Now.” Iona took a breath, “I’d felt him once or twice before but the first place we tracked him to was a warehouse in the Waterfront district. It looked like a warehouse, same as any other, except that when we went inside there were several dead bodies and an imprinted axe. It looked like the warehouse had been used to hide slaves.” Yoren leaned in, “And you tracked him there based on your earlier detection and the energy within the imprinted axe?” Iona shook her head, “No, sir. Actually we were led there.” Yoren’s eyebrows raised, “Led? By whom?” Iona shrugged, “Some sellsword assigned by the man who owned the warehouse.” Iona’s thoughts abruptly wandered, “The same warehouse that held slaves… well, perhaps he was renting it out?” Yoren was now standing, “Who was this man? The owner of the warehouse.” Iona shook her head, “I never heard his name. My professor simply took me to his house in the Dregs. Emmit, one of the healers from the University was there, dressing the man's wounds, or so it appeared.” She broke her concentration to look at the Spymaster, “You know Emmit, he’s gone with us on patrols.” Yoren nodded his head quickly and impatiently, “Yes, yes, I know who you mean. The warehouse owner. Describe him.” Iona shrugged, “He’d been injured. Emmit was there treating him. He had a dressing wrapped around his waist, almost like half a diaper.” Yoren’s face began to darken and she picked up the pace of her description, “Not young, not old. Early or mid-thirties, maybe, but he was trying hard to look younger. A rakish haircut and a goatee trimmed and curled to the point of vanity. A complexion somewhere between yellow and gray, like he seldom stepped out into the sunlight. And he had surrounded himself with displays of wealth. But having spent time here in the palace, I can see now that the kind of wealth he displayed was shallow… superficial, in some way. Like covering rotting floorboards with a fine rug.” Yoren had grown completely silent and seemed frozen in place. When Iona finished her description, he began to pace, muttering to himself, his fingers twitching as if he were playing an invisible musical instrument suspended in the air in front of him. Iona knew better than to interrupt him. Yoren’s movements came to a sudden halt and he swiveled to face her and then, using Talent enhanced speed, he was immediately in front of her, “Who told you the boy’s name is “Cooper”?!” Iona drew back in surprise, “The same man. The owner of the warehouse.” Yoren’s expression became gravely serious and his voice went flat, “The man’s name is Jarell. He was the man that controlled the Guild’s finances. He sent you after one of his own.” Yoren’s voice trailed off as he turned away from her. Spending time in the University had made it necessary for Iona to learn to read people. Living in the palace, surrounded by courtiers, and working for the Spymaster was like attending finishing school for that ability. She knew he wasn’t telling her everything.
