The Invisible Hand

by Chris Northern

  "What?"

  She retreated another step into the dark. "The touch of skin wakes the spirit, the clothing in the pouch puts it to sleep." The hint of a sudden, playful grin disappeared as she turned her head sharply. Her body followed in a crouched spin and the darkness of the night crowed in around her like a cloak that swirled the briefest hint of movement. "Fare well, Sapphire!" Her voice rang loud and laughing, and then she was gone.

  For a long moment I stood sweating and shaking in the chill night air and stared into the night trying to mark her movement. Instead it was Sapphire who appeared like ghost moving fast through the space she had occupied. I gasped and stepped forward, mouth opened to stop him but he was gone before I could make a sound, swallowed by the night. He'd passed close enough that I'd caught a glimpse of his intent, predatory expression. I shuddered as though coming out of a trance and looked around me. I was alone.

  Alone. But not apparently in any danger. The lights of the trading post still glimmered on the water. The rain still fell gently. Nothing had changed. A slight movement and a wet cough sounded behind me. Distracted, I turned and watched the bowman die. Not so far away I could hear footsteps crunching in the dark. They did not sound threatening. Still, I moved with care to make no sound as I stepped closer to the corpse of the bowman and squatted down by his side. My hand found his neck, soaked in fresh warm blood, and found the cord of leather that I had only half expected to find there. With care I pulled free the small pouch that hung around his neck and lifted it clear. The pouch weighed almost nothing and I had a good idea what it contained. I crouched there, alone in the night and waited. There was nothing else to do until Sapphire returned. If he returned.

  Moments stacked up on each other, built into a pile of tension that began to be a strain. Odd sounds in the night. A groan. Footsteps. A gasp. Then a low growl that made me stiffen, made my fist tighten on the grip I still held on my bared blade. Slowly I turned my head to one side, seeking the source of that low growl. I didn't have to look far. Backlit by light reflected on water, shadowy but distinct, the wolf stood four-square not fifteen feet away, head lifted, sniffing the air and growling low in the back of its throat. In the night, a different kind of growl sounded and the sharp snap of a stick mingled with a curse from nearby. I recognised the voice. One of my guards.

  "Over here," I said into the night before turning back to the wolf. "Velentin?"

  The wolf met my gaze squarely and gave a single, unmistakable nod that I found unsettling.

  "If I ask what you want I'm just going to sound like a fool," I mused aloud. There was no way he could answer me.

  Velentin padded toward me a few steps and turned slightly away before moving his head again, beckoning. A different but still unmistakable human gesture. Come on.

  I gave a snort of not-quite-laughter before getting a grip on myself. I couldn't decide if the human gestures the wolf made were humorous or frightful in their implications. Either way, I could not leave here yet. "I can't go anywhere," I told him. "Not yet."

  Velentin padded closer, close enough to touch. Slowly he stretched his neck and clamped his jaws gently on my wrist. He tugged firmly. I resisted just as much as I needed to. "Duprane sent you to fetch me?" Eyes rolled up to meet mine and he growled deep in his throat. It sounded like frustration. Letting go my wrist, the wolf gave that all-too-human nod and then looked over his shoulder into the night and suddenly back, gaze sliding past me, muzzle wrinkling, teeth bared. I'd heard it too, approaching footsteps, sounding slow and cautious close by. I glanced over my shoulder, knowing what I would see. I'd been listening to them. My own men. I knew that at least one had taken an arrow. I'd heard him growl as he built his resolve, heard him break the shaft of the arrow, then curse in the night. Now he and his companion were close enough to see, weapons still in hand, attention fixed on the wolf, both men tense and ready to kill.

  "Patron?"

  "Relax," I told him, "the wolf is no threat. Did we get them all?"

  I saw the tension go out of them as they closed the remaining distance between us, eyeing the wolf warily. "Two or three ran. They won't be back."

  I guessed he was right. They had been cover for Silgar, to help ensure success. But Silgar had had other ideas, as she had always had.

  "How bad is it?" My attention had slipped past him to Darklake. Shadowy figures were moving there. Moving fast and coming our way.

  The soldier shrugged, but slowly. He held one arm across his chest and I could hear the patter of blood on stone, like rain. "Bad enough."

  "Go back. Get it healed. And head them off," I gestured to my men coming on fast to help us. "We don't need them and Darklake does."

  The soldier gave a nod of assent and moved away without a word. The other remained, watching the night and waiting. Just as I was waiting. Waiting for Sapphire and hoping he returned. He did not know that Silgar was no longer a threat, and might not care if he did. Better if he had let her go. Dead or gone was all the same to me. But I didn't think it was all the same to Sapphire. He'd try and kill her if he caught her; die trying if he failed. Either way there was nothing I could do about it right at that moment. I contented myself with the thought that they had met before and Sapphire had come away from the encounter wounded but alive.

  My attention dropped to the small pouch I held gently in my left hand. I didn't know yet what I would do with it, though I guessed what it was. I lay the sword down and opened the pouch. With care I drew the contents free of the pouch, holding only the leather thong that attached to a fine net that held a gently glinting glass sphere no bigger than the egg of a lark. Should I choose to, I could touch the glass through the net that held it. But not yet. With care, I slipped the sphere back inside, drew the neck of the pouch tight and slipped the thong over my head. After I was sure the pouch would not fall free, I settled it safe inside my armor. Safe until I decided what use to put it to. Velentin gave a low growl as I took up my sword and got to my feet. A moment later, Sapphire emerged silently from the darkness as the growl turned to a thin whine and died away. I glanced at the wolf, saw him shifting nervously and backing away a step or two, then looked back to Sapphire, trying to read his expression as he came close and running my gaze over him quickly to see if he was wounded. I couldn't tell much about either in the dark.

  "She got away." I didn't make it a question. I didn't imagine he could have killed her without taking some harm himself.

  He wasn't looking at me. "Velentin," he said. "You have her scent?"

  Velentin whined and circled away.

  "No," I said. "We are not going after Silgar."

  Sapphire was close now and I suddenly had his full attention. Velentin continued to circle, tail between his legs, he come close to my side and nuzzling my hand, took my wrist gently in his jaws and tugged firmly enough that I took a half step to keep my balance.

  Sapphire let out a long slow breath, looked down at the wolf and back to me. "Why?"

  I wanted to pull the small pouch to show him and explain but I didn't have a hand free. "I'll explain on the way to wherever Velentin wants us to go." The wolf immediately let go of my wrist and moved away a few paces.

  "We are passing up a good opportunity to be rid of her," Sapphire told me. "The wolf has her scent. There might not be a better time."

  "Forget her." I glanced around. Me, Sapphire, one soldier, and Velentin. I could just make out a small knot of my men returning to Darklake. Maybe I could use them. Maybe I would need them. But the people of Darklake needed them more. Whatever happened there tonight, Parast could handle it, if he had enough men. I stepped out after Velentin, wishing the wolf could talk, wondering why Duprane had not instead sent Dannat. "You heard her voice?" I tossed the question over my shoulder to where Sapphire stood, reluctant to leave off the chase. He didn't answer and I didn't wait. Velentin moved ahead of me and I followed where the wolf lead. I'd gone a good few paces before Sapphire ghosted up to walk beside me.

  "How else would I know Silg
ar was a woman?"

  I could hear the footsteps of the soldier behind. And my own. Sapphire seemed to make as little sound as Velentin.

  "Why did she call out to you?"

  He didn't answer. I concentrated on walking as the strength drained out of me. Velentin led the way past the trading post, heading directly toward the woodland that held Duprane's Keep. I knew where we were going, then, but didn't know if I would make it. I was beginning to feel weak and shaky. The enhancements were wearing off fast. I spent a moment wishing for a battle mage, but Vesan was right where I needed him to be and there wasn't time to go to him, not if Duprane's summons was as urgent as I guessed.

  "I don't know," He admitted at last. "Do you?"

  I did and after a moment allowing myself the luxury of feeling smug about it, I told him.

  #

  Torches burned in Duprane's Keep. Flickering light spilled from the single door and over the steps that led up to it. But we were in darkness. The single guard at the door sat on the top step and saw nothing, but we could clearly see him. The four of us stood openly at the edge of the forest and watched. There was no way we could be seen by the guard whose night vision was spoiled by the light that surrounded him. For myself, I was glad of the light. The walk through the forest, though we had kept to the path, had seemed an endless round of slow stumbling. Had Sapphire not taught me the trick of walking with one eye open and the other closed, I doubted I would have managed to make the distance without turning an ankle or straying from the path. A simple trick, but it worked; and worked better if you kept the single eye moving, otherwise the darkness closed in after a few moments, leaving me all but blind. All the while I'd hoped that Velentin would lead us to the dell where I had met with Duprane once before, but he had not turned from the path until the last moment.

  "One guard?" I kept my voice low.

  I watched Velentin, who gave a single nod, not looking at me, but Sapphire answered also. "Just one, but maybe more inside."

  "Is Duprane captive? Inside the Keep?"

  Velentin looked up at me, whined softly and gave that eerily human nod.

  I wasn't sure I owed her anything. But if Caliran was here, at the other pattern, prepared to meld bodies to benefit his own interests... I couldn't let that pass. And Duprane was my only link to the Lords of the Keeps. Should she die I would lose my best chance of negotiating with them. My hand drifted to the thong about my neck and I glanced at Sapphire, drawing strength from his calm, relaxed stance.

  "Are you sure you can imitate her voice?" I was sure he could, sure that that was why she had called out to him.

  He leaned close and spoke in a soft, feminine voice. "Years of training, Sumto. Years. And pain or death the price of failure. But what would you have me say?"

  It was damned eerie. It made me shudder, imagining what his childhood must have consisted of. His and Silgar's both, I reminded myself. "I don't know. But Caliran will be expecting Silgar to make contact. And she won't go directly to him. There would be no sense in her giving us this tool and then making it useless." I could only hope I was right about that, but it was clearly true. There would be no sense to it.

  "Unless she leads us to a trap of her own. She can't kill you, but she has no cause to stop others from doing so. She could be standing right next to him right now, quite content that all her purposes are served."

  "You could tie yourself in knots thinking like that."

  "A startled rabbit runs for the burrow."

  I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

  "People are more complicated than rabbits, but if you are going to kill either it helps to know how they think."

  "So what will she do?"

  He shrugged again. "Protect Caliran, as she has agreed. Not kill you by her own hand, as she has agreed. That much I'm sure of. But she serves several masters. Who knows how many? Who can guess what else she has agreed to? How tangled are the threads of her motives? I think that conflict may have driven her mad."

  I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was as mad as he thought she was. "That doesn't help."

  "If she were dead we wouldn't have to think about it."

  I didn't argue the point. I'd made up my mind. "Do it.”

  Without hesitation he touched the glass.

  "Who is it?" The querulous voice that came from the sphere was barely above a whisper.

  "Silgar," Sapphire said in her voice.

  "Well? Is he dead?"

  He meant me. I nodded vigorously.

  "Yes."

  "At least that's done, at last. Dead or captive, either will serve. Alert the captains, then. Have them arm. Have them keep the citymen busy, spread them thin. By moonset I'll be done here. Meet me then and we will take Resh Ephannan's people out of the hall and gift him with one of them."

  "And then?"

  "We will attack at dawn and finish the rest. When the Plain Lords arrive I want this ended. They will find only me here and accept me as the guardian of this Keep. With a puppet chieftain in Darklake, the area will be mine."

  "As you say."

  "Tomorrow I'll have the money to pay you what you asked and you can head south. Agreed?"

  Sapphire met my gaze as he answered. "Agreed."

  The faint light of the glass sphere faded to nothing as I watched. Carefully, Sapphire placed it back in the pouch and made to hand it back to me.

  "Keep it for now," I told him, thoughts elsewhere. "It's no use to me."

  He looped the cord round his neck and tucked the pouch into his tunic. I paid him no mind, staring at the ground and thinking bad thoughts. South. He could only mean the city. Who and how many was he sending her south to kill? And what else might she be contracting to achieve?

  Velentin's low growl brought me out of my tangled thoughts. The wolf was staring at me. So was Sapphire. I looked around and saw the one soldier left to me was also watching, waiting for me to decide what to do. I told him. "Get back to Darklake. Warn Parast there's going to be trouble; tell him to keep the men together, not to let them get spread out. Protect the people as best he can but with as little risk as possible. And fix a guard on the hostages. Put them all in the hall and keep them there. Do it now."

  Reluctance showed clearly in his slow salute. "And you, Patron?"

  I glanced back at the Keep. One of Caliran's rivals was in there. I meant for her to live. And for whatever else Caliran planned to happen before the setting of the moon to be disrupted. "Don't worry about me. I'll return soon enough." Still he hesitated and I turned back to face him fully. "Whatever secret orders you have from my uncle or my father, try and remember that I am your commanding officer in the field and you are subject to my discipline, soldier. Now go."

  He didn't waste his breath denying it, but gave a stiff nod of acceptance and went.

  "That took you long enough," Sapphire murdered.

  "No chance of it working on you," I guessed.

  "None at all," he told me equitably enough. "I'm your father’s man, not yours. Now, what are we going to do?"

  "Go ahead and kill that guard," I told him. "Velentin and I will follow."

  He did that thing with his mouth that he thinks is a smile and ghosted away without a word or a sound of his passing. In a moment he was swallowed by the shadows as thoroughly as though he had been Silgar herself.

  #

  When I stepped over the body on the stairs I looked down at his face. I recognised him. Only days ago I had given him money. A loan. I couldn't remember his name. A man from Learneth. A haulier, I seemed to remember. A dead haulier now. He wore leather armor with chain sown on at the shoulders, a long knife sheathed at his waist. A short spear leaned against the wall beside the open doorway. He'd sworn to me and broken his oath. I had no sympathy for him. I turned my attention to the light-filled doorway and stepped inside. I didn't look down as I negotiated the next body. It could have been anyone. I was aware of Velentin sliding into the room behind me and skitte
ring away into the shadows. My own attention was focused on the pattern. In its centre stood a cage just big enough to contain the cramped figure it held. The burning brands sent shadows skittering across his face. I didn't recognise him. A young man, not much more than a boy. From his tattered clothes I knew him for one of the refugees I had brought out of the Necromancers’ burning town. He shifted against the bars of the cage, trying to get leverage, his movements becoming frantic for a moment before he sobbed and ceased his struggles. I moved toward the pattern, taking in the rest of the room. Sapphire closed on him from the far side, another body in his wake. Around the hall were many other cages, some contained living people. Some held only shrunken remnants of bodies. It was hard to make out details. I didn't try too hard Focusing on the cage and the boy, I closed on the pattern, meaning to stride to its centre and drag him out.

  "Don't enter the pattern!"

  I checked at its edge and turned, looking for the place from which Duprane's voice had come. I found her. Velentin lay by the cage that held her, belly to the floor and whining. She was crouched down on hands and knees, filling the cramped space and just able to turn her head to look my way.

  "It's active?"

  "Rope," she said, not answering. She painfully forced her bound hands hard against the narrow bars, pushing half a hand through so that she could point. "There's rope over there."

  As I looked for the rope I considered how best to use it to get the boy out. I found where it lay in a scattered pool, casually discarded. I snatched up one end and began to organise it as fast as I could, turned and walked back toward the pattern, saw that Sapphire had positioned himself on the far side. Nodded, satisfied. It was the only way I could think of that this would work. I worked as fast as I could, untangling the length of rope, using my forearm as a measure and looping it from hand to elbow. I felt cold. The chill horror that I might not be fast enough, that the boy might shrink and shrivel before my eyes as he was consumed, as others had been before him. Finally ready, breath coming hard and fast, I took one end of the rope and tossed the rest toward Sapphire. He took a half step, snatched the unravelling end from the air and flipped the length of rope in one movement so that it fell behind the cage. Together we pulled it tight and then began to drag the cage across the floor. The wood shrieked as it scraped across the mosaic. I hauled as hard as I could, legs and arms shaking with the weakness that had come over me after the enhancements had worn off. I gritted my teeth and kept at it, keeping the pressure as even as I could. Sapphire made better progress and the cage spun slowly as it moved. Sapphire cleared the pattern on his side and turned to haul with just his arms, hand over hand. I caught the frantic gaze of the boy and he whimpered, forming words I only half understood. "Hurry. Please." I turned as Sapphire had done and began to haul hand over hand. It was faster, but not fast enough. Abruptly the boy gasped and then panicked in the cage. He thrashed wildly and began to howl. Moments later the cage was clear of the pattern and we dropped the rope. I moved forward as Sapphire, indifferent to the boy, turned calmly away and headed for the door. As I came close to the cage the boy turned his face my way. His eyes were filmed with cataracts and wept thin lines of foul green liquid. At the other pattern I knew that someone could suddenly see clearly, perhaps for the first time in years. I cursed them and leaned over the cage, working on the short length of rope that held the top secured. Bound as he was, he could not have forced his hands up past his own head, nor turned in the cage to be able to reach. It didn't take me more than a moment to free him, but he himself had been helpless to do it. I flipped the lid up and reached in, gripping him by the upper arms and lifting gently so that he came up onto his knees. He cried out with the pain of cramped muscles suddenly released. A moment later and I had his hands freed. Supporting him with one hand I reached in and cut the bounds around his ankles. I didn't say anything. I had nothing to say. He wept and shivered. I guess he had nothing to say either. I lifted him again, helped him step out of the cage, then pressed him gently down so that he could perch on the edge of cage. "Massage your arms and legs," I told him. "Try and get some feeling back into them."