by Lisa Shearin
Tam was silent for a moment. “More than a few individuals in the Goblin District would love to send Sarad Nukpana home in a large box, in small pieces. But just because they want it, doesn’t mean they’re going to volunteer to make it happen.” He regarded me soberly. “Is your interest professional or personal?”
“Both.”
Tam sighed. “Who hired you?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.” Especially since I had become my own client.
He shook his head and took the chair opposite mine. “Are you willing to take some advice?”
“I’m willing to listen.”
“Find another case.”
“I’ve already been given that advice.”
“You’d be wise to take it.”
“Too late for that.”
“It’s only too late when you’re dead.” Tam exhaled slowly and settled back in his chair. “I heard his shamans paid you a visit last night,” he said.
“You’ve always said I need to get a social life.”
“Raine, you’ve never met him. I have. Trust me, this isn’t anyone you want to have notice you.”
Too late for that. “I hear he’s quite the nutcase,” I said.
Tam voice was steady. “He’s also brilliant, skilled, sadistic, and utterly insane. He’s a monster, Raine. Do us both a favor and walk away from this one.”
“I can’t. At least not without help.”
He was wary. “What kind of help?”
“Just information.”
“And you think I have this information.”
“It would certainly make my life easier—and possibly longer—if you did. The Khrynsani also paid Nigel Nicabar a visit last night.”
“What did Nigel have to say?” Tam asked.
“Not much, because he’s dead.”
That seemed to be news to Tam. “Nigel’s dead?”
“Bobbed to the surface just off the Grand Duke’s Canal this morning.”
The tiniest smile creased Tam’s lips. “You have to admit that’s not a grievous loss to the necromancer community.” He paused and the smile vanished. “You think I know something about this, don’t you?”
“I think there’s a better than average possibility.”
To someone who didn’t know him that well, Tam’s face was an expressionless mask. But I knew him that well. There was plenty going on behind those large, dark eyes, and most of it had to do with deflecting my questions.
“I have nothing to do with Nigel,” he said. “And even less to do with the Khrynsani. I have my vices, and while some are arrestable offenses, it’s nothing I would burn in the lower hells for.”
“Some people would say that’s open for debate,” I said. “I know you like to watch those you don’t want watching you. The Khrynsani definitely qualify.”
Tam waved a negligent hand. “King Sathrik’s throwing himself a party two nights from now. Someone has to see to the catering.”
“I don’t think Sarad Nukpana’s minions are here to make tiny sandwiches or arrange flowers, and neither do you. Try again.”
“Unless it affects me, there are some things I’m content not to know. You should do the same more often.”
“Maybe next time.”
“The direction you’re heading, there’s not going to be a next time. The Khrynsani have come for whatever reason, they’ll do what they came to do—and then they’ll leave. When they do, Mermeia’s goblin community is going to let out a collective sigh of relief.”
“Not exactly welcoming their new king and his counselor with open arms?”
“Let’s just say many of us are reserving judgement. Anyone that chooses Sarad Nukpana as his chief advisor isn’t going to win many loyal subjects in this city. As long as Sathrik and his pet shamans are in town, I’ll be spending as little time as possible in the Goblin District. Too many Mal’Salins there who are best avoided.”
“Not eager for a family reunion?”
“I loved my wife,” Tam said point-blank. “I’ve never had similar feelings for her relatives. I’ll be staying here for the rest of the week.”
Time to put my cards on the table. “Sarad Nukpana wants something that Nigel had. Nigel doesn’t have it anymore and neither does Sarad Nukpana. I need to know what that something is and what it does. And I need to know it sooner rather than later.”
Tam sensed my mood shift. Playful, it wasn’t.
“I don’t know what they were looking for,” he told me. “But if Sarad Nukpana wants it, it would be best if you weren’t in his way when he finds it.”
I put my cup and saucer on the side table. “The only people who know I’m asking questions are people I trust not to betray me.” I paused meaningfully. “Or lie to me.” I threw that in for good measure. I was sure Tam had a perfectly good reason for not being totally honest. Quentin hadn’t been totally honest with me either, and look what kind of trouble that had caused. I was tired of getting the runaround, and was feeling a little spiteful. What I was wearing around my neck earned me the right to instill some guilt. If I was lucky, it might bear useful fruit.
Tam’s dark eyes widened beguilingly. “You trust me?”
For a brief instant, he looked sincere. I was touched. Almost.
I couldn’t help but smile. “With my life, yes. But not with the rest of me.”
His answering grin exceeded my own. He looked almost boyish. “Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” He indicated the pack at my feet. “It looks like you’re running away from home.”
I made a face. “You’re closer to the truth than you think. I had accommodations, really good ones, but they fell through. And I won’t be responsible for putting Khrynsani on Tarsilia’s doorstep again.”
“Then I insist that you stay here.”
“I thought you were staying here.”
His dark eyes shone. “I am.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
The smile vanished. “I’m almost as persistent as Sarad Nukpana.”
I stood and picked up my pack. “I know. That’s why I won’t stay here. I need sleep, not a wrestling match.”
Tam raised his right hand. “I promise to be the perfect gentleman.”
“Gentlemen—perfect or otherwise—don’t make promises they have no intention of keeping.”
Tam stood smoothly, his expression solemn. “I never do.” Then solemn turned to something else as he reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Would you like a bath as well?”
Getting naked in Tam’s immediate vicinity didn’t seem like the best—or at least not the most direct—way to get to sleep, but I couldn’t deny that I needed and desperately wanted a bath.
“Is that a polite way of telling me that I need a bath?”
Tam stepped closer, his fingers trailing from my ear to lightly brush my throat. “I smell goblin blood on you.” His voice had turned husky.
I didn’t move. “He was asking for it.”
“No doubt, especially if the blood is Khrynsani.”
I saw no reason to deny it. “The blood is.” I paused. “Its owner was.”
Tam looked at me then laughed quietly. “So I assumed. I’ll have the tub filled.”
Tam’s tub was a wonderful place to think.
Even if Tam wasn’t a gentleman, at least he was trying. Tam was a businessman, and he considered me an investment. Tam never made an investment unless he knew it would pay him full dividends later. I reached for the soap. That was fine with me, later wasn’t now. For now, Tam had left me alone in his plush little apartment to make myself at home.
There was more to Tam’s private domain than a bedroom behind his office. There was a sitting room with a plush couch and more overstuffed chairs; there were rugs you could sink in up to your ankles, one of which was strategically placed in front of a carved marble fireplace, along with the tub. I had looked at the carvings before getting into the tub. Same people, same activity. Apparently wooden doors weren’t
the only medium Tam’s naughty artist friend worked in.
Soaking in the hot, scented water made me realize just how tired I was. But it also helped me think a little more clearly about my encounter with Sarad Nukpana.
It stood to reason that since Nukpana had hired Quentin, he might have heard of me. Quentin worked for me. A natural, logical chain of progression. No scary conspiracy there. What it didn’t explain was why the goblin grand shaman had seemed downright tickled to see me. Maybe he was just the friendly type. Yeah, right. Just your friendly neighborhood psycho.
I leaned back in the tub to wet my hair. I didn’t think Tam knew about the amulet and why Nukpana wanted it. But based on Tam’s reaction to the mere possibility of my path crossing Nukpana’s, if I told him, I’d be locked in his bachelor hide-away until the Khrynsani left town. I looked around. It was really very nice. The throw on the bed looked suspiciously like Rheskilian sable. I grinned. Only one way to find out for sure, but I’d have to dry off first. Not a bad way to spend a couple of days, but it wouldn’t do a thing to explain what I was wearing around my neck, what it did, what it was doing to me, and why I couldn’t take it off. And most importantly, how the hell Sarad Nukpana knew me.
I sank lower into the tub. Drowning would solve all my problems.
“Turned into a mermaid yet?”
I jumped, water sloshed. Tam was closer than he should have been. No big surprise there. Though at least he was dressed. I relaxed a little, but was still careful to keep the amulet, as well as some other things Tam would find intriguing, well below the waterline. Just because Tam was dressed didn’t mean he couldn’t take off what he had just put on, and from his expression, he looked like he was giving that some serious thought.
He was dressed for going out, and armed for staying there awhile. A goblin with a mission. I had a feeling that mission involved me. What a sweetheart, though I knew better than to tell him that to his face.
“Going to see anyone I know?” Or had just met.
Tam’s expression gave nothing away. “I doubt it.”
I didn’t.
“Does it have anything to do with me?”
Silence.
Wonderful. Tam is going to get himself killed and it’s going to be my fault.
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, nimbly changing the subject.
“Let’s see…dinner last night at the Crown & Anchor. Didn’t happen. Ale and dried bread at Garadin’s in the middle of the night. Unfortunately that did happen. Then there were sugar knots from Maira’s this morning. Delicious.”
Tam just shook his head. “I figured as much.”
There was a discreet knock at the door. It was Kell with a tray of something that smelled like heaven. The big goblin was trying to avert his eyes from the sight of me in the tub, but he wasn’t having much luck. I slipped deeper into the water to help him out.
He left the tray and the room, both quickly. I giggled.
Tam smiled and met my eyes. “What is it?”
“I wouldn’t have pegged Kell the easily embarrassed type.”
“It’s not every day he finds a beautiful woman in my tub.”
“It’s not?”
Tam’s eyes were unreadable. “No, it’s not.”
He turned away and removed the plates from the tray and set them up on the table and opened a bottle of wine I was sure cost more than I made in two weeks. It looked like a feast. If Tam hadn’t been standing there, I’d have been out of the tub and at the table, naked or not.
Tam tossed the robe he’d been wearing earlier across the chair next to the tub. “If you do not wish to get dressed immediately, you may wear this while you eat.”
“You’re leaving now?”
“I’ve already dined, and I have business to attend to.”
Oh yeah. Killing or getting himself killed on account of me.
“If you need anything, Kell will get it for you,” Tam added.
He bent and placed an almost chaste kiss on top of my head. Though the bending gave him ample view of everything under the water. “Sleep well. I’ll be back by eight bells tonight.”
And he left. Very sudden, very un-Tam like. I didn’t trust it.
I got out of the tub, dried off, and slipped into Tam’s silk robe. It was still warm and smelled like Tam. Nice. I sat down at the table and devoured everything Kell had brought. By the time I’d finished, I could barely keep my eyes open. I put my clothes—and my blades—next to the bed where I could reach them, then slipped out of the robe and into bed.
Oh, and the throw on the bed? Definitely Rheskilian sable.
Chapter 9
When I woke up, I knew it was far later than I wanted it to be, though the extra sleep was much needed and worth it. A glance out the window confirmed the late hour.
I planned to be gone before Tam returned. I had errands of my own to run. While I couldn’t march myself to the goblin embassy and demand that Sarad Nukpana explain himself, I could do something almost as productive and a lot less dangerous. I could ask Ocnus Rancil, and I wouldn’t ask nicely.
Ocnus Rancil may not be the most gifted goblin sorcerer in Mermeia, but pound for pound, he was the sneakiest. Nothing happened in the Goblin District that Ocnus didn’t have his fingers in one way or another. Everyone knew that, including the Mal’Salin family. As a result, Ocnus was what you might call the royal family’s chief weasel about town. And Ocnus’s presence at Tarsilia’s door with several Khrynsani shamans in tow told me that his weasel duties had expanded to include tour guide. Ocnus needed to understand that my home wasn’t a stop for visiting tourists; I needed to understand what Sarad Nukpana wanted with me. Ocnus might not know everything, but I was sure he knew something. I was also sure Ocnus and I could reach an agreement.
But I wasn’t counting on knives or threats to get the results I wanted. I knew a curse and I’d use it if necessary. Generally I stayed away from curses. They had a tendency to backfire, aside from being just plain mean. I had made an exception for this little beauty. I had used it only once, and it had been more than effective. Ocnus had been on the receiving end that time, too. It was repugnant, even by his standards. I had put a three-day time limit on it—fire fleas reproduced after four days. I’m not completely without compassion, even when it came to Ocnus.
I don’t think he wanted a repeat infestation.
It didn’t take long for me to get dressed and armed. I knew where Ocnus spent most of his days. It was in the Goblin District, in a section I normally avoided, but avoidance wasn’t an option if I wanted to talk to Ocnus.
Tam’s staff had arrived to set up for the night’s clientele. A few didn’t recognize me; most did. There were more than a few surprised looks and knowing smiles when I stepped out of Tam’s office. They knew the boss’s office wasn’t the only thing behind that door. After the bath, meal, and nap I’d had, I felt wonderful and couldn’t care less what anyone thought.
“Mistress Raine.”
It was Kell. I walked over to the bar.
“Was the lunch to your liking?”
“It was wonderful. Just what the doctor ordered.”
He nodded, pleased. No signs of blushing. I guess it helped that I was wearing clothes.
“This arrived for you while you were asleep.” He reached down behind the bar and handed me a sealed envelope. “Since the boss had said you weren’t to be disturbed, I waited.”
I looked at the seal. It was plain and the paper wasn’t top quality. Definitely not from Markus.
“Who delivered it?”
“Lorcan took it at the door,” Kell said. “But I got a look at the messenger.”
“Goblin?”
He shook his head. “Human.”
I did a quick scan to check for any unpleasant surprises. Normally a wax seal was just a seal, and breaking it just opened a letter. Sometimes it opened a nasty spell. Better safe than struck. It felt clean, so I opened it.
What a coincidence. Ocnus wanted to talk to me
, too. I’ll bet he did. Probably had a nice, cozy little chat planned. Just the two of us—with a dozen or so of his new Khrynsani best friends. Though where he wanted to meet was surprising. Dock Street at the north end of the Smuggler’s Cut Canal. That was on the waterfront in the Elven District, a long way from Ocnus’s usual haunts. The Ruins was at the north end of Dock Street. I didn’t like to be anywhere near The Ruins this close to dark, but it beat the hell out of the Goblin District any time.
It was Ocnus’s chosen topic of discussion that interested me most. He claimed to know why Sarad Nukpana wanted me and the amulet. But the last line of his note baited the hook and I couldn’t help but bite.
And the location of the artifact he plans to use you and the amulet to find for him.
I could smell the setup from here. For Ocnus, information was currency. Apparently I didn’t have any information he wanted in exchange, because he was asking for fifty gold tenari.
He wanted to meet at seven bells. I knew that when Ocnus was anywhere near the Elven District waterfront, he had an early dinner at the Flowing Tide, and he always dined alone. Usually because no one else wanted to dine with Ocnus. It was just before six. If I hurried, I could keep him company.
I tucked the letter in my belt. “Tell Tam I went out for dessert.”
The sun had just dipped below the horizon, bathing the lagoon in golden light. It was my favorite time of day. Too bad I didn’t have the time to enjoy it. I wanted a quiet night, with more than a few hours of sleep. Wanting it didn’t mean it was going to happen, but I could hope. After talking to Ocnus, I could always come back and take another bath—especially since after talking to Ocnus, I’d want to.
A pair of city employees leisurely made their way down the bank of the Smuggler’s Cut Canal, lighting streetlamps. It was the dinner hour, and people were hurrying home to the evening meal. I turned the corner at Dock Street just in time to see Piaras forced into an alley by a pair of cloaked figures. Part of me wondered what Piaras was doing anywhere near The Ruins at dusk. The other part knew it wasn’t his idea. The young spellsinger looked afraid. I looked down Dock Street in both directions. The lamplighters had vanished and there wasn’t a city watcher to be seen. Figures. Just when I could have used some backup.
