by M. R. Forbes
"You know him?" Eryn asked. She pulled her hand away.
"Knew him," Silas said. "Yes, I guess I did."
"Davin Capaldi, the King of Hearts, at your service." Davin bowed slightly, causing the dozens of gold and silver chains he was wearing to clang together. He was dressed in soft leather and rich velvet, and a sword hung from his hip. He brushed a lock of black hair from his eyes as he stood. "I changed my name when I came to Varrow. In any case, the General and I have worked together before, many, many years ago. What was his name again, Talon? Oh, but it's Silas now, isn't it. The Hero of Elling. Ironic that we should both be here, now." He paused and stared at Silas. "You don't look like you've aged a single day."
"Ilon," Silas whispered, his eyes shifting back and forth beneath the memory. He licked his lips and swallowed. "He was Cursed. The son of the Constable of Eveline. He refused to turn the boy over, and the soldiers there were very loyal to him."
"I was working as a mercenary at the time, in Pesboro City. Silas hired me to help him get to the boy, and kill him."
"I didn't want my men to find out their brothers had betrayed us," Silas said.
"You showed up with a purse full of silver, and at the time I was happy to accept. The two of us killed twelve soldiers, the Constable, the Constable's wife and all four of their children."
Silas closed his eyes again. He could see that night in the back of his mind. He remembered the boy sitting up in his bed, screaming for his mother with nothing but fear in his eyes.
"I've regretted taking that job every day for the last twenty years," Davin said. "On quiet nights, I can still hear the children crying." He paused and wiped a tear from his eye. A moment later, Silas did the same. "I couldn't stand being anywhere near Eveline after that, so I moved here and used the silver you paid me to start matching mercenaries with merchants. I refused to work with the army ever again. The business was a success, and over time I started buying buildings, opening more businesses and running all of the underground operations here. I'd heard the Hero of Elling had white hair and blue eyes, but I never suspected it was you. I never forgot your face, Silas."
"I forgot yours, but I remember it now. I wish I didn't."
Davin smiled. "I think we've both learned the true meaning of regret since then. You're the Hero of Elling now, and you're here in Varrow City. I'm sure you wouldn't be unless you had a good reason."
"What do you know about the Dark?" Eryn asked.
Silas heard Ames gasp behind him. Davin only stared.
"I know that no one who speaks of it as if it is a real thing stays out of the path of his soldiers for long. What do you know about the Dark?"
"We've seen two different maps that say it is a real thing. I think there's a reason he doesn't want anyone to know of it," Silas said, "and I want to find out what that reason is."
"Amman must be with you, to deliver you to my care. Come with me."
Davin motioned for them to follow. He walked back into the changing room. It was a small and simple room, barren except for a full-length mirror hanging against the wall. He pushed the mirror to the side, sliding it along hidden tracks and revealing a small space with a ladder leading underground.
"As I said, listening only," Davin said, turning towards Eryn.
"Having someone look upon my naked flesh is the least of my concerns," she replied.
Davin laughed at that. "I should have expected as much from anyone who can match with the General." He entered the space and started climbing down the ladder. "I have heard that most of the cities in the Empire have tunnels like these. They're very convenient for the business that the Overlords want to deny exists but allow to continue, though I've always doubted that was their original purpose."
They followed him down the ladder, into a network of torch-lit tunnels that stretched for unseen lengths below the city. There were a few others moving about, and they nodded to Davin as they passed. Eryn and Silas had both raised the hood of their cloaks, and it was effective enough to avoid stares from people accustomed to not asking questions.
A series of twists and turns brought them to another ladder. Davin climbed up first, pushing a hidden trap door out of the way and leading them all up into a tiny room that smelled of bread but was presently empty. He withdrew a key from a vest pocket and unlocked the door leading out of the room, swinging it open and bringing them into an empty kitchen.
"My home," he said. "One of them. I haven't lived here in some time. No one has."
"If I had to guess, I would say this is one of the three level apartments on Downing Street," Andreaus said. "These were said to have burned down."
"You have a fine sense of direction, merchant," Davin said. "These are those apartments. About two years past I bought the entire block under a false name. Only recently did I have all of the units except for this one torched inside and out. This one... only the outer wood was licked by flame, leading most to believe the entire structure uninhabitable."
"Why?" Silas asked. "That's a lot of trouble to go through."
"It is, but I had a good reason."
He brought them out of the kitchen and into a large, empty dining room, and then through to the foyer and up two flights of stairs to the third floor. From there, he led them down a short hallway to a door in the rear corner of the apartment.
"The biggest challenge is finding enough light. I've been able to start small fires in here when it's cloudy and the view from the ground is obscured, but the rest of the time I don't dare betray the death of this place."
Silas wasn't sure what he was talking about. Davin took a separate key from the other pocket of his vest and placed it in the lock. He was stoic as the tumblers clicked and he shoved it gently open.
Silas heard the confusion of the people behind him. If he wasn't looking at it, he wouldn't have quite believed it himself.
Across from the door was a fireplace, and in front of the fireplace was a small rug, worn in the center such that the threads were frayed and reduced to their natural color. Stacked neatly on either side of the rug were books. Hundreds and hundreds of books.
"What is this?" Silas asked.
"These are as many of the books that used to sit in the Varrow library as we managed to save, before Overlord Penzi had it and all of its contents destroyed. Many of them are of little enough value to you, but there is one that I think you may find intriguing. It was the last book that Saretta secreted away before she got caught."
He entered the room and made his way to the fireplace. Once there, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside. Silas heard him grunt, and the sound of stone sliding against stone. A moment later he backed out and stood, holding a square wrap of cloth in his hands.
"The book in my hands predates his Empire," he said. "It's in a language I don't understand. I've been trying to decipher it, but I'm not nearly the scholar that Saretta wa... is. I only know it is some kind of journal or diary, because each of the entries looks like it is dated and signed."
Silas reached out. "May I?"
Davin put out his hand. "I want to help you, Silas Morningstar. I want to atone for the night I painted the grass red with the blood of innocents. Talon Rast must atone as well."
He turned his shoulder to put the book further away.
"His soldiers took her, Silas. They took Saretta. I've been told they didn't kill her, that they brought her to the ore mines at Washfall. You and your Cursed companion can save her, I know you can. Do so, and I'll give you the book. I'll give you horses, coin, weapons, anything you need."
Silas glanced over at Eryn. She would take on all of his armies at once if it meant freeing a single soul from the mines. "I want to help you also, Davin. I think the best way we can do that is to find him and end his life. Once he is gone, there will be no more ore mines, and she'll be free. Please, give us the book. We can translate the ancient texts, and there may be some clue inside that will help lead us to him."
Davin shook his head. "What if you fail?
What if he defeats you? If you want the best chance to save us all, you need to rescue Saretta."
"Why?" Eryn asked. "Why is she so important?"
"One, she is my love, and my wife. Two, she's been to the Dark. That's where she found this book."
CHAPTER NINE
Wilem
Wilem was uncomfortable.
Not because he wasn't used to the noise, and crowds, and smells of the city. Not because they had ridden as hard as their horses would allow, without time to rest for food or drink until they had reached the gates of Varrow City sometime in the late evening.
"Well, boy," Kelkin said. "Shall we get a move on?"
He was uncomfortable because Clau had split them up, and commanded him to the Heart with the elder Mediator.
Wilem took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. There was no good reason he should be so uncomfortable around the man. They were both Mediators, both special; but he was younger, faster, and maybe even more powerful. He was destined to replace Kelkin at Clau's side. It was the elder who should have been nervous.
"Yes, my Lord." It was better to be respectful. Wilem made only brief eye contact, catching Kelkin's small brown orbs with his own gaze for only a moment. He was a little less frightening in breeches and shirt than he had been in the Mediator's robes.
Kelkin led the way, walking them through Varrow City towards the palace and carrying a small box that held their vials of purified blood. Clau had made them leave their horses behind, explaining that they were too well kept and too well trained to pass as anything but his.
"Have you ever been to Varrow before, boy?" Kelkin asked. His body shifted strangely as he walked, more like he was slithering than striding. Wilem smiled at that, out of his view.
"No, my Lord. I grew up in Edgewater, and never left before my assignment with the General."
"Har!" Kelkin threw his head back to laugh. "You'll learn fast out here, boy."
Wilem just wished he would stop calling him 'boy'. "I've already learned much."
"You just need a little more seasoning. To control yourself a bit better. You did well with the runner, but it was dangerous to over-exert yourself like that."
Would he never hear the end of it? Wilem didn't respond. He was certain it hadn't been his fault, and he was confident he would come through when the time came.
"Where are we going to stay, my Lord?" Wilem asked.
Kelkin stopped walking and turned around. "Wilem, call me 'my Lord' one more time and I'm going to show you some of the nastier things I've learned after forty years on the road. Kelkin will suffice for me. If that is too informal, Master Kelkin will do."
Wilem could feel his face turning red, but he forced himself to meet the older Mediator's gaze and hold himself there. "Yes, Kelkin."
They started walking again.
"To answer your question," Kelkin said over his shoulder, "we'll be staying at an inn called Waverly's. The innkeeper there, Patmos, is a known sympathizer."
"I don't understand, my... Kelkin. If he is known to be connected to the rebellion, why is he allowed to remain in business?" In Edgewater, such people were routinely arrested and sent to the mines.
"For the same reason the Heart is right near the palace. Do you think that who we are gives us power, boy? It is nothing compared to the power of information. That was Iolis' biggest mistake in Elling. He threatened those who threatened the Empire, when he should have either gone all the way and had them arrested, or integrated loyalists into their ranks to learn what they knew. He would have found the Liar weeks earlier, and he might even still be alive today."
Wilem didn't really know that much about what had happened in Elling, other than the Liar leading the rebellion there to a short-lived victory. He was surprised to hear Kelkin suggest that the Overlord had made a mistake. "So we're going to stay at this Waverly's. Then what?"
"Then nothing, boy. We'll eat and drink, tell tales and make conversation. Most importantly, we'll listen. If any word comes in of the Liar and his Whore, I'll contact Talia and the General."
"Varrow is a big city. Do you really think sitting in one place will help us find them?"
"Staying in one place is sure to be more effective that moving about. What if we leave a place right before they enter it? Waverly is a sympathizer. The Liar risked his neck to get into the city, he's going to want something. That means he'll need to talk to other sympathizers, and sooner or later it will trickle down."
"He could be long gone by then."
"Yes, he could. Did you expect that this would be easy?"
Wilem didn't say anything else for the rest of the walk. Kelkin had made him feel dumb enough already.
###
They entered Waverly's as father and son. It was Kelkin's idea, and he seemed to delight in Wilem's pale-faced reaction to it. The older Mediator was so much more of a person after escaping from the weight of General Clau's shadow, and while most would have appreciated and enjoyed his relaxed demeanor and boisterous charm, Wilem only found it overwhelming.
"Ah, thank you, dear," Kelkin said, as Patmos' wife, Urla, dropped a plate of roast hen in front of them both. "Another ale, if you please." He gave her a wide smile while handing her his empty mug.
"As you wish, my Lord," Urla replied. She took the mug and vanished back into the kitchen.
Wilem had found Waverly's to be an interesting place. It was one of the largest inns he had every seen, with dozens of long and round tables spread throughout the common room, three separate hearths to warm the entire floor, and an intricate pattern of wooden beams and cross-supports that held up the three levels of rooms above. There was no bar to speak of, and no drink besides water and the dark ale that Kelkin was downing. There was no entertainment either, but that didn't seem to dissuade dozens of lower classed merchants and laborers from making it their roost for the night. They gathered more closely than he would have expected, or had experienced in Edgewater, filling the tables nearest the kitchen first and finding company in both friend and stranger alike.
"Sympathizers," Kelkin whispered. They sat at the edge of the gathering, close enough not to look out of place, but far enough away to be able to speak privately.
"All of them?"
He nodded. "Most like. This is your first time out, boy, and Edgewater is one of the most loyal cities in the Empire. You haven't seen what I've seen. We grow weaker every day, and even more for every day the Liar roams free. He makes them think that they would be better off without him. They call him 'tyrant' and 'murderer', 'cold' and 'evil'. They just don't know the truth. It takes a strong hand to make hard decisions."
He stopped talking when he saw Urla coming, choosing instead to take a bite of his hen.
"You should eat," she said to Wilem. "It looks to me like you could use some more meat on those bones."
Wilem gave her a weak smile, and picked up a drumstick to satisfy her. He took a small bite and discovered how much he had missed food made with real herbs and spices.
"As I was saying," Kelkin continued. "Look at Clau, or even Talon before he snapped. They've done the work. They've taken responsibility for killing men, women, children. They've made the hard decisions to protect all of us. I'm from Elling. Did you know that?"
Wilem shook his head. His mouth was full.
"I was raised on a farm, until I got the Curse. Nobody ran in those days. They took me away, taught me to control it... well, you know how that is. If it weren't for him, the Curse would have taken me years ago. None of these people seem to understand that."
"Sometimes I do wonder," Wilem said, having finished assaulting the drumstick. "Why don't we just tell them the truth? Why don't we take their blood and send it to be refined, like yours and mine."
Kelkin's mood shifted like the wind in a storm. The ease vanished from his face, and he leaned back in his chair and glowered at Wilem. "Do you think everything is so easy, boy?"
Wilem dropped his eyes back to the half-eaten hen, his appetite washed away.
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"The General says there is good reason, and I believe him," Kelkin said. "Even the mines don't exist just to punish thieves and liars. They serve an important purpose."
Wilem felt the heat of his flushed cheeks. He pushed his chair back and stood. "Excuse me. I've had a bit too much water."
Kelkin's smile returned, and he laughed. "Maybe next time you'll try the ale."
Wilem didn't reply. He spun about on his heel and headed towards the stairs. He'd learned earlier that Waverly's was one of only three inns inside the Heart that had indoor plumbing.
Before he knew what was happening he felt something slam into his shoulder, twisting him off balance and sending him stumbling back towards the table. He reached out in an effort to steady himself, but his hand only found more air. He was about to call on his power when he remembered the General's warning, and allowed himself to take the fall instead. He hit the ground on his stomach.
"Oh, my apologies."
Wilem couldn't see the speaker. All he could see was the bottom of their table, and Kelkin's spindly legs folded one atop the other. The small leather and wood lacquered box rested next to his chair.
"Are you well?"
The voice again. A female voice. She sounded young, like him.
Wilem twisted and reached up, grabbing the edge of the table and pulling himself to his feet. He saw a pair of black boots, the smallest hint of porcelain legs, and then the hem of a blue dress. His eyes followed it up to small hips before he caught himself and redirected his attention to his attacker's face.
"Are you well?" she asked again. "My apologies. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
Wilem stared at her without speaking. In that moment, he decided she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
"I... I'm fine," he replied at last. He had wrenched his other shoulder when he hit the ground, and it was throbbing, but he wasn't going to tell her that.
