More bare steel combined with Black Scratch's charge was enough for the Ease's patrons. Shouting in fear, courage forgotten, many rushed for the door. A few stayed to menace Ovel, but suddenly most of the tavern was clear. Tycho scrambled back to his feet-and saw the lithe little figure that rolled out from under a table behind Li. "Watch out!" he shouted. Li spun around, still crouched, and slashed out with a sword. Brin, a dagger in his fist, just tumbled aside. And tumbled again as Li's second blade swept around. Again and again, a roll ahead of each flashing blow, forcing Li to spin around to keep up with him.
Focused on the halfling, the Shou didn't see Lander loom up behind him, a broken chair leg in his hand. Tycho sucked in breath and raised his hand to cast a spell.
Lander was faster. "'Ware magic!" he spat at Brin and changed his target. Suddenly the chair leg was hurtling through the air at Tycho. The wood cracked into his outstretched arm and numbness rippled from his wrist to his elbow. The spell died on Tycho's lips, vanishing into a yelp of pain. Lander's stealthy attack was spoiled as well, though; Li hissed and spun back into a defensive stance, both butterfly swords at the ready. Lander didn't let him rest. The thug wrenched out Li's own saber and sent it at him in a powerful backhanded blow. Li just barely rocked back out of the way.
Brin whirled and threw himself at Tycho.
A gasp of panic forced itself out of the bard. He fell back, knife raised. Brin's dagger slashed out. Tycho only just slid away from it. He lunged at Brin in the wake of the blow but caught nothing but air. The one-eyed halfling bent like a snake-a snake with arms and one steel fang-and just kept coming, dagger weaving and stabbing, forcing Tycho back. Behind him, Lander was bashing away at Li with ugly, brutal slashes. The Shou saber clearly wasn't his weapon of choice, but elegance wasn't something Lander was known for. An ugly blow still hurt. Li was catching some of the blows with the butterfly blades, but it was obvious he would rather have held the saber than the twin weapons.
Lander's next blow fell. Li brought his left blade up and let the saber slide along its back all the way to the up-swept guard and twisted, locking the longer weapon for a moment as he reached in underneath and cut at Lander with his right blade. Lander threw himself back. The butterfly sword sliced through his mantle and his dark-red tunic, but missed his flesh. Li wasn't so lucky. As he withdrew his left sword, releasing the lock on the saber, Lander thrust forward instead of pulling back. The saber sliced a shallow gash across Li's arm. He gasped and jumped away.
That gasp broke Tycho's desperate concentration on the glittering weave of steel before him. In a heartbeat, Brin lunged.
Tycho tried to dodge. His heels caught a fallen chair.
He went sprawling backward, backside slapping against the floor hard enough to shock the breath out of him. Brin stepped up between the bard's splayed feet.
"Tomorrow!" Tycho blurted desperately. "You said tomorrow!"
"I don't need a reminder!" Brin bellowed back. "Sweet but you're getting too big for your breeches, Tycho! Maybe it's time to fix that!" He flipped the dagger around in his grasp and hurled sharply almost straight down.
Tycho shoved his heels against the floor and scooted backward desperately. His back slammed up against the bar, bringing a jangle of protest from his strilling, but it was enough-Brin's dagger sank into the floor instead of into his groin. The halfling grabbed for the quivering weapon. Tycho brought up one leg and aimed a kick at him, but Brin just tumbled back again. He came to rest on top of a table.
With a hard scowl, he produced another dagger. Tycho yelled.
Across the room, Li caught and locked the saber with one butterfly sword and, before Lander could pull it away, locked it from the other direction with the second sword as well. He twisted sharply. The saber jerked right out of Lander's hand. Li let all three weapons clatter to the floor and thrust forward with a double-handed blow that hammered into Lander's chest and sent the thug flying backward to crash down across the still-groggy Serg. Whirling around, Li grabbed a chair in each hand. "Brin!" he shouted.
Brin's head snapped around. Li whipped one of the chairs at him. Brin kicked himself up, leaping over the chair as easily as Li had leaped Black Scratch.
The second chair caught him in mid-air and sent him slamming to the ground.
"Outside!" Li shouted at Tycho. "Get outside!" He scooped up the butterfly swords and his own saber and leaped for the door, tearing his scabbard from Lander's belt in passing. Tycho scrambled to his feet as well.
"Tycho?" Laera was curled up in the corner where the bar met the tavern wall. Her face was pale and she was trembling. She stretched out her arms like a child reaching for a comforting toy. Tycho cursed and brought himself up short. He grabbed one arm and hauled her roughly to her feet. She clung to him desperately. "Oh, Tycho!"
"Stop saying that!" He wrenched himself out of her embrace and dragged her toward the door. "Come on!"
Another squealing bellow froze him. Froze everyone who was still left in the tavern. Tycho twisted around to stare at Black Scratch. The boar was back on his feet and shaking off the last of the shattered furniture that had clung to him. His red eyes swept the room and settled on Tycho. He squealed again and charged. Everyone-the last few patrons, Muire, Ovel, Lander, dazed Serg, rage-pale Brin-scattered, flinging themselves out of the monster's way.
Tycho couldn't even form words. He just hurled himself at the door with a primal, panicked yell, Laera stumbling and shrieking in his wake, Black Scratch's thundering hooves coming after them. Tycho didn't look back. He plunged across the threshold and into the cold night air. The Ease's patrons were milling around in confusion in the yard outside. Tycho plowed into them, trying desperately to push his way farther from the door. Any moment now, Black Scratch's tusks would toss Laera aside and tear into him. He could almost feel the boar's hot breath When heat came, however, it came in a sudden flash of light arcing overhead. A heartbeat later, a scorching wave of force lifted and thrust them forward. Tycho staggered and half-turned. The ground outside the door of the Wench's Ease was steaming, the snow melted away. The milling crowd was fleeing. Inside the Ease, Black Scratch was squealing and thundering in panic and rage.
Then the wall beside the door bulged and creaked. The boar was coming out one way or another!
In the darkness, sudden light shimmered, brilliant and warm. Tycho whirled back around. To one side of the great bare tree, stood Li. His shirt was open and he was reaching across his body with his right hand, seeming to draw the light in a long shining strand out of his left shoulder. As he pulled back his arm, the strand grew and thickened until it was the size of a javelin. Tycho gasped, grabbed Laera, and pulled her down into a crouch. Light flashed overhead again; scorching warmth blew past them once more.
"Up!" shouted Tycho. "Up!" He was running before Laera was even on her feet, literally dragging her for several steps toward Li through the muck of the yard. A glance back showed a patch of melted snow at the base of the Ease's wall, but the wood of the wall itself was smoking this time as well. There were still shouts and squeals from inside, but now the squeals sounded frantic with pain. The shouts were angry and defiant; Muire and her loyal customers were holding against Brin and Lander while Black Scratch hurled himself against the walls in terror. Tycho slid to a stop before Li. The Shou was hurriedly refasten-ing his shirt. "What," Tycho gasped, "was that?"
Li shook his head. "Not here. We need to get away." He jerked his head at Laera; the girl was weeping, shivering, and sucking in huge hollow breaths. Tycho ground his teeth together and gave her a hard shake.
"Laera!" he snarled at her. "Go home!" She looked up at him with wide eyes. Mud streaked her face and hair. "Go home to your father!"
"But I want to be with you!" The words came out as a desperate wail and she grabbed for his arms again. "I want to travel, to-"
Tycho slapped her. "You want the road? This is the road. There's no glamor in it." He spun her around sharply. "Go that way. It will take you to a guard station. The
guards will see you home. Now run!" He gave her a shove. She stumbled a few steps and looked back. "I said, go! Go!"
Laera wailed again and fled. Tycho didn't look after her. He grabbed Li and pulled him off into the shadows in another direction.
Tycho slid the blade of his dagger down the gap between two boards until he felt it catch slightly. He pressed to the side and a loose section of board on the right popped free. In the cavity behind it was a key. Tycho took it, replaced the board, and slipped around to the door of the net shed. Li was looking up at the shack doubtfully. "No one will find us here?"
"As long as we're quiet, no. The owners died recently." Tycho slid the key into the lock on the door and turned it. The lock gave way with a faint squeal. Li winced.
"How recently?"
"Did you see the body hanging on the tree outside the Ease last night?" The Shou nodded. "That was one of them." He pushed open the door and ushered Li inside, stepped through himself, and closed the door behind them. A whisper of song put a soft magical glow around the key. He flashed it around briefly so Li could see their surroundings. Nets in need of mending. The tools to do it. Lines and reels. Coils of rope. Pitch and caulking. All the equipment fishing folk might need. The shed wasn't big, two paces in one direction, maybe four in another. It was cold-a gap ran across the top of the front and back walls just below the roof line so air could flow through and dry the nets. A tight mesh tacked over it kept out birds and vermin. The water of the Sea of Fallen Stars was close; the sound of the surf was constant. Tycho went to the chest where Ardo and Ton had kept a stash of blankets, water, and smoked fish. The water and blankets he shared out with Li. The fish he left. He couldn't quite handle the thought of eating at the moment. Shielding the glowing key so that only a trace of light leaked through, he dropped down onto a coil of rope and looked hard at Li.
"You can't tell me you're just a clerk now," he said. "I've never seen a clerk fight like that. What exactly does the Department of Lost Treasures do? "
Li shrugged off the small armory of weapons that he wore or carried-scimitar, butterfly swords, and saber fell onto a folded net. He retrieved the saber, slid it out of the scabbard, and held it up in the light to inspect the blade. "The Emperor formed the Department of Lost Treasures as part of an effort to reclaim knowledge and great works lost by the more foolish of his imperial predecessors over the centuries. The Department of Lost Treasures searches out the fabulous artifacts and relics of old."
Tycho's look turned to open-mouthed wonder. "Bind me!" he spat. "You're a treasure hunter?" Li shot him a scowl.
"I'm not a treasure hunter." He thrust the saber back into its scabbard. "My responsibility is to look after the more senior clerks and scholars and keep them safe."
"And those bolts of light? You're not a mage, too, are you?"
Li hesitated then opened his shirt and slipped his left arm free. The wound that Lander had inflicted on him was a sharp red line across his forearm, but twisted around his arm above the bicep was the dirty old rag Tycho had noticed before. The bard's eyes narrowed. "When I healed you last night, I tried to look at that to see if there was another wound underneath. Even half-unconscious, you fought back like it was the most important thing in the world." He leaned forward, taking a closer look at the rag.
In spite of its filthy and worn condition, it was clear that it had once been a piece of very fine silk. "What is it? A lost treasure from your department?"
"It has never been lost. It's a family heirloom entrusted to me by my father to help me in my search for Yu Mao." Li tugged at one edge of the rag, pulling free a clean fold. Tycho gasped-the dirt of the rag was only on the outside. Its true color exposed, the silk was…
Gold. No, buttercups. Saffron. Lemons. It was yellow, but a yellow so pure and exquisite that to call it that was demeaning. And yet there was no other word that could come close to describing it. It shimmered with light and warmth, that tiny exposed fold casting a glow that put his spell of light to shame. The very edge of the fold was ragged, however, and frayed, lycho drew a breath. "Those bolts?"
"Threads of the Yellow Silk of Kuang, drawn forth and hurled at enemies," he said reverently. "I think the same magic kept me just warm enough to endure the snowbank after Lander left me for dead last night." Li folded the edge of the silk back over and its radiance vanished. "Keelung silks are famous for a yellow dye that the Kuang invented. The legends of my family say, however, that the first dyers and weavers of Kuang achieved even more." He brushed his hand over the dirty rag. "They captured the power of the sun in a magical banner."
"That's a banner?" lycho asked in disbelief.
"Fine silk folds very small," Li said. "The Yellow Silk is bigger than it looks. Its power has also been called on many times over the centuries. It isn't as big as it once was. Even the finest silk wears and becomes threadbare with use."
Tycho looked at him narrowly. "With use?" He sucked in an angry breath. "You couldn't have used it earlier? You couldn't have used it last night against Lander and his men?"
Li snarled back just as hotly, dropping into Shou in his anger. "The Yellow Silk isn't some common mage's wand, Tycho! It's the symbol of my family's strength and prosperity. Its power is not used lightly. It hasn't been unfurled in public in more than a hundred years. Even many members of my family believe it to be only a legend and outside of Kuang, it's less than a myth." He folded his arms. "You are the first in three generations aside from the head of Kuang and his heir to see the Yellow Silk and certainly the first non-Shou to have ever even heard of it!" He looked down his nose at Tycho. "I thought you might appreciate that more, considering you seem to collect stories-and considering that the Yellow Silk kept Black Scratch from tearing into your hairy backside."
"I-" Tycho gritted his teeth, reining in his temper. "I do." He blew out his breath. "I'm sorry, Li. Thank you." He held out his hand. After a moment, Li took it and gripped it tight. Tycho patted their clenched hands. "We're in this together now, though. You haven't made a friend of Brin tonight. I don't think he's going to want to talk to either of us now." He released Li's hand and sat back.
"What about his beljurils, then?" Li asked as he slipped his arm back into his sleeve. "How are you going to convince Brin that Jacerryl was the one who stole them if you can't talk to him?"
Tycho blew out his breath and pushed his hands through his hair. Plans tumbled in and out of his mind. He couldn't run-he couldn't leave Veseene and she was in no condition to travel. Make a hostage of someone or something Brin valued… no, that was just a joke. Brin valued no one and nothing with the possible exception of Black Scratch and the thought of capturing the boar was ludicrous. Go to the guard? That thought made him snort out loud.
Carry the fight back to Brin? Stand up to the halfling? His snort turned into a shudder. He'd already done enough of that already. Tycho grimaced. This was how Brin always managed to trap his victims, wasn't it? A net of violence and desperation that struggling only pulled tighter. The only reasonable way out was not to struggle at all, to simply give in to Brin.
"Bind me," growled Tycho. He stood up and whirled out his blankets, spreading them across the ground. Li stared at him. "Go to sleep," Tycho told him. "We're going beljuril hunting tomorrow. If Brin wants the beljurils, we need to get them for him."
"But you said the Hooded-"
"Bitch Queen's wrath, I know what I said." Tycho flung himself down and stretched out. "I've lost track of how many balls we're juggling and which ones are burning. All we can do is try to keep as many as we can in the air until the fire goes out!"
Li sat down on his own blankets, his saber close to hand, and raised an eyebrow. "Tycho," he said seriously, "can we really trust Brin? If we get him the beljurils, is he really going to let me talk to him and let you go in peace?"
"I don't know." The bard looked up at the net-draped ceiling. "Brin has a kind of twisted honor. When he says he's going to do something, for better or worse you know he's going to do it."
"He said you had until tomorrow to get him the beljurils, but he came after you tonight." Li spread out his blankets and crawled between them. "That doesn't sound like any kind of honor to me."
Tycho stashed the glowing key in a pocket of his coat, smothering its light. The magic would fade by morning. The darkness in the shed was complete-eyes open or eyes closed, he still saw nothing. "It's no kind of honor at all," he admitted. "But Brin's up to something, I can feel it. If you can think of another option besides trying to get the beljurils back from the Hooded, I'd like to hear it because I can't think of a better one."
"I don't mind facing down the Hooded. I'd just like to know what Brin wants with us."
Us.
Tycho sat up sharply. "Li, Brin was looking for both of us! Veseene's message said the same thing. I'm the one he blames for losing his beljurils. What does he want with you? You're nothing to him. His men beat you up and robbed you." He drew a breath and his eyes narrowed. "The rubies you had hidden in your coat. Could Brin have found them? Could he be looking for more?"
"I looked at the coat when I fought the man wearing it." Li's voice drifted in the darkness. "It hadn't been torn. The rubies are still sewn up in it."
Tycho cursed and lay back down slowly. "Then what interest could he have in you?"
Li was silent for a moment before he answered.
"Yu Mao," he said. "He knows I'm looking for Yu Mao."
***
He knows I'm looking. The thought washed through Li's mind, relentless as the waves in the dark. Tycho drifted off to sleep; his snores were soon grating on the air. Li lay awake, staring into the darkness. Turning that thought over in his head. Remembering the hin's one-eyed gaze in the Wench's Ease. He knows I'm looking. Brin wanted him.
The Yellow silk r-4 Page 14
