Focus! She sifted through the morass, trying to detect her would-be assailant.
With her senses heightened to a fever-pitch, Mya turned right at the next street, up into the Heights District instead of down into Midtown toward home, the tip of her parasol clicking on the cobbles with each step. Don’t give him an opportunity… Stay in the crowds… Focus! If he pops in, move, and kill him before he can touch you!
A pair of workers exited a swanky shop ahead carrying a rolled rug between them, and the foot traffic bunched up. Someone jostled Mya from behind, and she started, her hand going to the hilt beneath her bodice.
Calm down! Not here…he’s not going to attack in a crowd…
She turned to cast an admonishing look at the tall gentleman who barely acknowledged her glare. She took the opportunity to scan the street, the buildings, the rooftops, but saw no sign of Hoseph.
Where are you?
The men moved, and people surged, forcing her eyes forward. She strode on, tapping her parasol and suppressing the chill up her spine. Just a proper gentlewoman out for a stroll, not an assassin in fear for her life. She continued up the hill, thinking of one familiar place where she might be able to lose her deadly escort.
“Where are you going?” Hoseph watched Mya turn the corner from the street of the teahouse and head toward the Heights District. He doubted she would be staying in the most expensive district in the city. Alone, without resources or support from the guild, how could she afford it? No matter; there was nowhere she could go where he couldn’t follow.
From the top of the building across the street from the teahouse, Hoseph scanned the nearby rooftops, picking out a nice flat roof next to the street Mya had turned onto. He faded into the shadows and reappeared exactly where he wanted, on a level spot far in from the roof edge. The now-constant headache and dizziness made falling a real danger, but standing on a flat roof hardly required preternatural agility. Also, this was the only way he could be sure that Mya wouldn’t spot him.
He leaned forward just far enough to view the street four floors below. If he fell, he might have time to invoke his talisman before he died.
Scanning the shifting crowd, he picked Mya out easily. All of her clever disguises could not fool a high priest of Demia, sorter of souls. He could pick out her particular soul anywhere. She paused with the crowd as some menials moved a carpet across the walkway. Someone jostled her, and she turned, looking around, probably watching for Lady T’s assassins. The guildmaster had been right; Mya was careful. He leaned back until he could barely see her over the edge of the roof. Finally, she moved on.
Six more transitions through the shadows left his head feeling like daggers had plunged into his eyes, but he remained stoic. Mya had ventured deep into the district, and turned into the one place he never thought she would go: the Drake and Lion inn, the very place she and Lad had stayed.
“Returning to the scene of the crime?” He wondered how she could be so foolish, but then considered his own reaction to her coming here. He certainly hadn’t expected it. Could she be so bold? “Your arrogance will be your undoing, traitor…”
Hoseph settled down to wait, rubbing his temples as he watched the inn. He had never been inside, so couldn’t follow her using his talisman, but this might just be a ruse, too. Mya was nothing if not wily. He would wait to be certain this was truly where she was staying. If it was, he would have Lady T find out which room she was in. From there, he would find a way in to kill her while she slept.
Patience… Sweet shadows of death, sooth me… Patience…
There were four armed guards stationed beside the doorman at the Drake and Lion. They gave her a cursory glance, but a frumpy gentlewoman evidently didn’t warrant a confrontation. Granted, most of the swanky inn’s clientele were much more elaborately dressed, but she didn’t look like a commoner, which was enough to get her past. The doorman nodded to her and did his job.
The inn wasn’t very busy, but nobody gave her a second glance as she strode purposefully forward, using the age-old practice of looking like she knew where she was going to avoid questions. Picking a bellboy of about the right size, she stepped into his path.
“You there, young man. I require your assistance. Follow me.” She crooked a finger and started for the stairs.
“But, ma’am, I’m busy with another—”
She fixed him with an intolerant stare. “Must I report your disrespect to the manager and have you fired?”
“Um…no, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, follow me!” Mya ascended the sweeping staircase, and he fell in behind, conditioned by a lifetime of subservience to simply do as he was told. At least she hoped so. At the fourth landing he was out of breath. She hurried down the deserted hallway to the last door and stopped. “I’ve lost my key. Open this.”
“I don’t have any keys, ma’am. I’ll have to go check with the manager.” He turned to go.
Whether he was telling her the truth or had keys and wasn’t about to open a room for someone without approval of his boss, didn’t matter in the slightest. Mya struck him carefully just at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The blow didn’t quite snap his neck, but dropped him like a steer in a slaughterhouse. She caught him before he hit the floor, and lowered him gently to the floor, senseless, but still breathing. Pressing her ear against the door, she listened.
Nothing…no voices, no breathing, no heartbeats. Good.
Mya gripped the shiny brass handle and twisted hard. The lock gave way with a crack, and she pushed open the door. She’d chosen well; the room was small, ornate, and unoccupied. She dragged the unfortunate young man inside and closed the door.
Work fast, Mya.
She stripped out of her dress, shoes, and wig, and scrubbed the makeup from her face with her pettiskirts. Next, she stripped off the man’s uniform, and put it on. The shoes were too big, but she stuffed his socks into the toes and put them on anyway. Next, she bundled her clothing into one of the bed’s sheets, tying the corners tight. Her daggers she secreted under her dapper bellboy’s jacket. She lifted him into the bed and tucked a pillow under his head. He was going to wake up with a splitting headache and quite a story to tell, but probably wouldn’t be able to identify her. Mya picked up the bundle and hurried out, confident that Hoseph would never spot her dressed like a hotel employee.
Hoseph materialized on yet another rooftop and pressed his thumbs to his temples to scour away the pain. If it got much worse, he would have to abandon his pursuit or risk falling to his death. He blinked and focused, edging close to the tenement’s roof to watch Mya enter yet another inn. This was her third since leaving the meeting with Lady T. The woman truly was paranoid, changing first into a bellboy’s uniform at the Drake and Lion, then back into her dress at another inn. Now this unassuming place only a few blocks from the river.
He sat down to wait, muttering a prayer to help ease the agony inside his skull. If she left this inn under a new guise, he’d have to try to follow. Hoseph knew his own limitations, and he was far too fatigued to try to kill her today. He would have to wait. He’d long considered his strategy, knowing firsthand how dangerous she was. He had one weapon that would give him the opportunity he needed: the invocation of soul searching. Intended as a means to show sinners the errors of their pasts, the invocation also had the effect of momentarily overwhelming the recipient. Hoseph had used the magic to great effect before, once against Captain Norwood, and again in the palace dungeon. He didn’t know why it hadn’t worked on Lad, but that creature was more magic than flesh anyway. It had, however, knocked Mya to her knees, and should do so again. If he could get close enough to render her senseless, he could send her soul to Demia and be done with it.
He spotted two children slipping out the inn’s servants’ entrance and up the alley. One was almost tall enough to be Mya in disguise, but neither possessed the assassin’s peculiar twisted soul. Moments later, two more children left the inn.
What’s going on here?
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br /> Curtains moved in a top-floor window, but not enough for him to get a glimpse inside. In fact, in every window above the ground floor, the draperies were pulled closed. On the first floor, slatted shutters blocked his view.
Patience…
Hoseph waited. Two more children left, then one he hadn’t see before returned, then an old man—the first adult he’d seen—left through the front door and strode up the street. Another rough-looking child approached and entered the inn again by the back door.
Is this some kind of school or home for street children?
Regardless, though many had come and gone from the building, Mya was still inside. This appeared to be her refuge. Hoseph would have laughed if he’d possessed anything resembling a sense of humor.
She’s hiding behind children?
Mya must truly be desperate if she had resorted to recruiting the dregs of the Downwind Quarter for cover. Hoseph smiled through his pain. Now that he knew where Mya lived. He would get a glimpse inside when the next person came or went. Then he would use his gifts to slip inside and kill Mya in her sleep. Not tonight; his fatigue hung too heavily on him. Perhaps tomorrow. It was only a matter of time, and he could wait.
Dee held up the bellman’s jacket Mya had stolen, suppressing a grin of admiration. The disguise had been quick thinking, and had probably saved Mya’s life. Good thing she had the slim figure to fit into the uniform, and short enough hair to pass for a boy. He hung it in her clothes press, thinking it might come in handy later. He’d take in the seams here and there to make it fit better, and add some padding to hide her feminine curves.
“I don’t know if Lady T was just trying to scare the shit out of me with this, or if I’m just good at disguises, but I’m still alive.” Mya bit her lip, pacing as she removed her disguise. “I must have lost him at the Drake and Lion.”
“You think she would lie to you?” Dee took her hat and placed it on the rack. She hadn’t put her makeup back on, of course, but the lace veil hid her features well enough.
“Not really, but it’s possible.” Mya held up a small tube. “I was thinking about this on the way back, too. She had it ready. The names of the conspiracy. I keep thinking it’s too good to be true. What if she’s playing me, giving me a list of people she’s hoping I’ll kill? I don’t know Tsing’s politics. Some of these could be Arbuckle’s supporters.”
“But you know three of them, right? Seoli, Ingstrom and…what was the magistrate’s name?”
“Graving. Yes, they’re on the list, but I have no way to confirm the others. I couldn’t see faces well through her draperies.”
“If the whole thing’s a lie, what about Duveau? Could she be trying to get you to kill him, too? Remove Arbuckle’s protection, like the blademasters?”
“Maybe, but I don’t see how.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t seem likely to be a lie for two reasons: one, if I found out, she knows I’d kill her; two, I have no way to get to Duveau.”
“So, if it’s not a lie, you’re still planning to take the list to the prince?”
“Yes.” Mya finished with the buttons of her dress and stepped behind her dressing screen. The dress flew over the top of the screen, followed by her pettiskirts. “I’m sorry about the pettiskirts, but I had to use them to scrub off my makeup. Hand me my robe will you?”
“No worries, Miss Mya. It’ll launder out easily enough.” He plucked the dress from the screen and handed her the robe. As her hand reached around to take the garment, he saw that her wrist and forearm were wrapped in close-fitting black cloth. Strange undergarments… He wondered if it was a bandage or something, but she’d mentioned no injury. Well, he wasn’t going to ask. Mya had her secrets, and he wasn’t about to pry.
She stepped out from behind the screen, covered her from neck to wrist to ankles by the voluminous robe, and held up the tiny scroll case. “So, we assume this is genuine and get it to the prince.”
“You’re sure about breaking into the palace, Miss Mya? It seems so…”
“I’m sure, Dee.” She bit her lip, and Dee didn’t think she was sure at all. “I’ll leave word at the tinker’s shop that I need to see the Gnome again. I can’t wait any longer.”
“As you wish, Miss Mya, but…”
“But what?” She fixed him with a pleading look. “Tell me, Dee. I want your opinion.”
Well that’s a first… “All right. It’s too dangerous. You shouldn’t trust a thief. He could give you false information, set you up.”
“That’s funny, he said the same thing about trusting an assassin.” Mya smirked and nudged him toward the door. “Don’t worry, Dee. I’m not trusting him implicitly, and I can take care of myself. Now get out of here. I’ve got to get cleaned up.”
“Very well, Miss Mya. I’ve put hot water in the wash room.” He left with her soiled pettiskirts draped over one arm and his concern for her undiminished. She took horrible chances, and he could tell she was afraid, especially of Hoseph, but she insisted on going on. He had failed Mya once, and she’d still trusted him. All he could do was to try his hardest not to fail her again.
Chapter XX
“Yer late.”
Mya suppressed the urge to whirl and lash out. Even when she knew he was going to show up, she hadn’t heard the gnome’s approach. She turned casually and put the little jade carving of a duck back on the shelf. “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. How could I be late?”
The gnome squinted up at her from under his cap and wrinkled his prodigious nose. “Hand me down that bag ’o cherry wood blend, would ye?”
“Sure.” She retrieved the bag of tobacco and handed it down. “Must be challenging being so short.”
“Only when I’m in a shop run by one ’o ye longlegs.” He picked a pipe off a lower shelf, examined its workmanship, and sniffed the bowl. “Follow me, but keep yer distance.”
“All right.” She picked the jade duck off the shelf and strolled to the front of the smoke shop while the gnome paid for his pipe and tobacco. At the counter, the shopkeeper greeted her with a smile.
“Half a crown. Would you like that wrapped up?”
“No, thank you.” Mya paid for the little carving and left the shop, duck in hand.
She had little difficulty following the gnome. The streets of the Dreggars Quarter were busy, even though most people displaced by the Night of Flame had moved back to Midtown, but his size and distinctive cap marked him well. Of course, he wanted her to follow him. She imagined he could vanish readily enough if he so chose. Three blocks from the smoke shop, he paused at a stair that descended to the basement of a brick building. With a discreet glance back, he trundled down the steps.
Mya paused to examine something through a shop window, then followed. At the bottom of the stairwell stood an iron-bound door with a shiny bronze handle, only four feet tall. Gnomes… She hoped the height of the building’s interior didn’t match the door.
The door swung open. “Come in.”
She ducked through, stepping down into an airy cellar full of rows of crates, barrels, and shelves of tiny bins all lined up in precise order. At least the ceiling was high enough that she wouldn’t have to stoop. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Ain’t mine.” He regarded her as he strode to the middle of the room to lean against a shelf. “I still don’t trust ye enough to take ye to me own place, let alone the palace.”
“You’ve had almost a week.”
“Aye, and yers ain’t the only job I’ve got.”
She had one thing that might jog him into action. “I have the names of the conspirators who are planning to kill the crown prince.” She enjoyed the surprise on his face at her pronouncement. “I know who they’re going to use to assassinate him, and I can warn him. If you don’t help me, they’ll probably succeed.”
“Tell me, and I’ll get a note to him.” Mistrust hung on his homely features like a mask.
“Not a chance.” She shook her head. “You’ve given me no reason to trust
you that much.”
“So, I don’t trust ye, and ye don’t trust me.” His prodigious nose wrinkled.
“But both of us want to save this prince’s life, even if it’s only so we both have customers to fleece. So, how do we do it?”
“We’ll have ta go in together, but I want some insurance that yer not gonna just murder the man, then me as well.”
Mya squinted down at his inscrutable face. He’d clearly thought this through, and she knew this wouldn’t be a trifling point. “What kind of insurance?”
“This kind.” He pulled a small metal ring from a pocket. It looked like a cheap steel bracelet.
“What’s that?”
“My insurance.” He whispered a word with the guttural intonation of his mother tongue, and the ring expanded in radius. Pulling a stout shaft of hardwood from a nearby bin, he looped the ring over it and spoke another word. The ring constricted to fit snugly around the post.
“Ye wear this around yer neck, see.” He tapped it with a finger. “Won’t hurt ye unless I want it to.”
Mya swallowed. “And if I betray you…”
Holding the shaft upright, he said another word in gnomish, and the metal ring suddenly constricted, sheering off the top of the post. He caught the end before it hit the floor and put it on a shelf, then proffered the shaft in his hand. Atop it sat the metal ring, now barely large enough to fit a pin through.
Mya swallowed. She doubted even her magical tattoos could save her from the constricting metal ring. “That’s asking me to trust you a lot.”
“Aye, but no more’n I’m trustin’ ye.” He nodded to her skirts. “Ye don’t move like a thief, but I don’t doubt fer a second that ye could put one ’o them daggers in my eye before I could blink it.”
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