Again, the pause. The hairs on Warian’s nape prickled when he realized everyone in the room paused as if to ponder the same thing—everyone but him and Zel. He shot Zel a puzzled look. Uncle Zeltaebar looked a little worried.
Breaking out of his thoughts, Xaemar continued speaking as if there had been no pause. “All experimental crystal implants were to be destroyed and replaced with crystal from the newest veins, as Shaddon instructed. He said crystal mined from the older veins was compromised and prone to malfunction. It could be your arm is teetering on the edge of complete malfunction.”
Xaemar delivered this dismal news in a manner that seemed … greedy. In fact, everyone but Zel looked at him with a simultaneous gleam of hunger suddenly illuminating their features.
Warian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “So you think the arm is simply giving out, and it’s—what? Sputtering on the last dregs of its magical charge?”
“It could be, could be,” purred Xaemar, in a very un-Xaemarlike fashion. “There’s only one thing to do—you’ll have to let your Grandfather Shaddon take a look. It simply wouldn’t do for a Datharathi to lose the use of his prosthesis, even if that Datharathi had fled from his responsibility to the family. It would reflect poorly on the plangent enterprise.”
Warian sighed. “Plus, I’d sure hate to lose the use of my arm.”
“Be that as it may, I’m sure Shaddon would love to examine his original crystal prosthesis after all this time. I have no doubt about it.”
“Makes sense. I’d like to see my famous grandfather again,” said Warian. If anyone could diagnose the strange new abilities of his artificial limb, it was Shaddon, the man who’d attached it. “Where is he?”
Aunt Sevaera broke in. “Oh, he’s out at the site. Right in the middle of some delicate work just now, and he can’t even make time for our family meetings. You’ll have to travel to the site to see him directly.”
“Oh, come on!” protested Warian. He hated “the site”—the peculiar mine where one of the family’s many mining tunnels had opened into a bizarre region, the region where Datharathi crystal was mined. Now that he was back in Vaelan, he didn’t relish the idea of leaving so soon.
Especially with his sister missing. The more he thought about it, the more concerned he became for Eined’s welfare. She was a tough one, certainly, and could probably handle a lot more than Warian himself. Still …
“Come, come, don’t be like that,” said Xaemar. As he spoke, a discomforting tic caused his left eye to flutter spastically. Warian had never seen Xaemar suffer from such a thing. Warian pretended not to notice—was it a sign of age, or a side effect of the plangent procedure?
Xaemar continued. “Your Grandfather Shaddon isn’t far from Vaelan. You can take a sky skiff. It’ll be a trip of no time at all.”
“All right. Maybe in a few days, after I’ve had time to see what I’ve missed in Vaelan in the last five years. And I want to help locate Eined!”
His family stared at him, quiet and considering. Then Aunt Sevaera said, “If you want our help on this, Nephew, you’ll abide by the schedules we set.”
Warian frowned, then asked, purely for informational purposes, “When’s the next skyship leaving?”
“Tonight!” Xaemar rubbed his hands together. Dis-quietingly, so did Sevaera, Barden, and Corlaen. What the …?
“However, before we make preparations for Warian’s trip, we can’t forget Zel is due to give a report.” Xaemar turned slightly in his chair to fix Zeltaebar with a glare from his single, violet-tinged crystal eye.
Xaemar asked, “Where is Eined?”
Ususi and Iahn drove the wizard’s coach, pulled by two summoned steeds, through the west gate of the city of Vaelan.
The west gate opened on high ground, and the view of the city, as it fell away to the north and east toward the stunning shores of the Golden Water, was broad and expansive. It was easy to see why Vaelan surpassed Assur as the crown jewel of Durpar’s trading empire. A central region of proud, tall towers constructed with gold leaf and glass exulted in the midday light. Whitewashed walls separated city districts, and the buildings were of pale stone, or perhaps took plaster and paint particularly well. Terraces, broad flights of stairs, rooftop coffee shops, and bazaars of every description seemed the order of the day in Vaelan.
Just inside the west gate, Ususi paid to have her coach stored indefinitely. She put down a considerable deposit, just in case they found access to the Celestial Nadir within the city. Eventually, she would come back to claim her custom travel coach.
Ususi was accustomed to crowds, but the throngs in Vaelan were something else again. Even Two Stars, a city that prided itself on trade between cultures, had not prepared her for the multitudes surging through Vaelan’s streets. The avenue they strolled along was filled on both sides with outdoor restaurants and cafes, all crowded with people. Most of the patrons seemed as interested in consuming the exotic delights before them as watching the continuous parade of passersby.
Courtesans, in scores, more than Ususi had ever seen at once, walked the city streets, clad in diamonds, body paint, and garments spun of the finest silks. Beggars in rags clutched at the robes of passersby, asking for handouts. Unshod children scampered underfoot, absorbed in their youthful games. Sitar players and bards singing strangely nasal ballads were featured along the many rooftop cafes. Half-dressed barbarians with oversized weaponry strapped to their belts pushed arrogantly through the throng. A group of elves in high court dress clustered around a street vendor selling roasted vegetables on sticks. A brave woman wearing red body paint goaded an unshackled ogre to juggle various pieces of crockery. Several halflings perched on an elevated byway, watching the traffic, pointing out oddities, and laughing among themselves.
Ususi even spotted a few eastern-looking men in warrior’s dress she recognized as common in Two Stars—merchants and their bodyguards from much farther north and east of Vaelan.
And all of this she saw on a single street!
The people were fascinating, but Ususi’s eye was also drawn to the myriad stalls and stands of every stripe, some of which surely straddled the border that separated legal wares from black market merchandise. One hawker claimed his golden eels were the most succulent to be had in west Vaelan, while another described the fragrances available on his cart as exotic samples from “distant Tu’narath, brought only at great risk and expense to delight the senses of the common Vaelanite.”
Closing her eyes couldn’t shut out the clamor or the smells—the air churned with dueling odors. Fresh bread, eggs, spicy tea, oil, wood smoke from an oven filled with roasting sausages, devil weed, wet wool, exotic perfumes, sweat, and the faint odor of the docks—the countless smells concentrated in Vaelan were overwhelming.
A crush of people pressed upon them at an intersection. A black-haired courtesan pressed against Iahn and ran her fingers down his bare arm. “Such sinewy strength—such exotic pale skin,” she purred. “Where ever are you from? I’d love to hear your story. In private.”
Ususi shooed the woman away, shaking her head. Iahn looked after the woman as she moved away and was lost again in the crowd. Somewhat foggily, he said, “I’ve never smelled that particular fragrance before—I wonder from what flower it was distilled.”
Ususi had a few notions, but before she could formulate a response, a woman caught her eyes. The woman stood upon a slender white bridge above their path. The skin on her face and bare arms was partially replaced with a thin veneer of Celestial Nadir crystal!
“Iahn, look!” She pointed up at the woman, but Iahn already had her in his sights. With a fluid motion, he caught Ususi’s pointing hand and guided it down to her side. He clasped her other hand in his grip and drew her close as if sharing a friendly embrace.
He whispered, “Best not to draw the attention of any who wear the crystal. Something dark looked out from behind the eyes of those who hunted you. The woman on the bridge … and there to the left, that man in the rich robes—s
ee his eyes? If their flesh is infected with the Celestial Nadir crystal, could not the darkness behind the world see out through their eyes, too?”
Ususi gave a slow nod. “Perhaps.”
She studied the woman on the bridge as they drew closer. The woman was speaking to an exotic fabric merchant. Nothing could be more natural. Except for her encrustations of crystal.
“No question about it,” Ususi whispered. “Someone in Vaelan has found an entry into the Celestial Nadir!”
“You were right,” said Iahn, not grudgingly. “We must locate that access. We cannot afford to approach one of these compromised citizens directly. But …”
Iahn paused near a confection vendor and motioned Ususi over. The smell of sugary cakes made her mouth water.
“Hungry?” Iahn grunted. He motioned for the vendor’s attention. Ususi shrugged. If Iahn wanted to sample the local cuisine, she would be right behind him. Those little cakes smelled good.
Iahn caught the notice of a thin, middle-aged man with curly brown hair streaked with gray. The man’s smock was streaked with flour, and he was flanked on all sides by racks of his delicious-looking bakery.
The vengeance taker scanned the merchandise, then pointed. “Two of those,” he said in the common trade tongue.
The man nodded curtly. “That’ll be one pari, or equivalent in silver, if you please.”
Iahn made a show of getting out his pouch and counting out his foreign currency. As he did so, he asked the vendor, “I’m new to Vaelan. A fabulous city. And so strange. Why, my wife and I”—Ususi frowned at Iahn—“my wife and I just saw the oddest thing. A woman on the bridge back there was covered with purple crystal!”
The man’s face stretched into what was probably supposed to be a smile as he watched Iahn painstakingly fumble through his coins. The vengeance taker was putting on a show with a faked lack of dexterity.
The vendor said, “Yes, yes—a plangent.”
“A what?” demanded Ususi, moving forward.
“Plangent. Anyone who gets an implant at the Body Shop is called a plangent. If you had the coin to spare”—the man looked critically at the paltry heap of coins in Iahn’s hand—“then you could do the same.”
The vengeance taker handed the vendor three pieces of silver. As the man weighed them in his hand, Iahn asked, “Why would one want to replace his flesh with inanimate crystal?”
The baker shrugged. “They say plangents are smarter, faster, and stronger than regular folk. I’ve heard that plangents live longer. Not a bad deal. But it’s too expensive for people like you and me.” The vendor turned his head and fixed his eyes on new customers standing behind Ususi and Iahn. The vendor was finished with them.
Wizard and taker moved back from the stand, munching on their cakes. They were at least as good as they looked and smelled, Ususi decided.
“All right, then. Let’s go find the Body Shop,” said Ususi.
“First, allow me to fashion a disguise,” replied Iahn.
No placard proclaimed the shop’s name. Such advertising was not needed. The structure revealed its nature with a startlingly tall and slender sculpture that thrust up from the building’s center, reaching some seventy or eighty feet. The sculpture depicted a smoothly flowing human form with one hand reaching skyward in supplication. Portions of the gray stone sculpture had been seamlessly replaced with violet-tinged crystal—one arm, one leg, one eye.
The architecture of the building was modern and flowing and seemed part of the sculpture itself. The combination was graceful and moving, like a piece of art representing the struggles of mortals who always strive for personal redemption.
Iahn pointed to the crystal and looked at Ususi. The wizard glanced up and shook her head. She whispered, “That’s rose quartz, not Celestial Nadir crystal.” She strolled casually into the lobby of the Body Shop, with the vengeance taker only a stride behind. Ususi’s invisible uskura followed, silent and unknown to all but the two Deep Imaskari. Iahn had warned the wizard against calling upon it—doing so would only draw attention.
He and Ususi wore disguises created with Iahn’s expertise, which included small elements of magical glamour. Ususi was unused to wearing illusions, but Iahn had assured her that darkened skin, short hair, and flamboyant dress would fool the eye of any casual observer. Certainly his own long, ragged cloak, wide-brimmed hat, and scraggly, unkempt beard was good enough to baffle even Ususi’s eyes had she not seen him assume the guise.
Iahn was her servant, and she the lady of some great merchant house in nearby Assur.
The lobby was a study in smooth, flowing lines, longer than wide, like a great hall in a noble’s mansion. Six displays graced the two long walls, three on each side, guaranteed to draw the eye by the simple fact that nothing else was for sale, or even visible to distract attention. A woman waited, a smile on her face, on the far side of the room, beside a single white door. She was dressed elegantly, the lines of her gown plunging down her back. The color of the gown, a pale lavender, almost white, complemented the crystal encrustations of one arm, one leg, and one eye. The woman was a plangent.
“Welcome to the Body Shop, Madam,” she said, and flashed a winning smile.
Ususi nodded, but paused to gaze at each of the displays in turn. Iahn shuffled along behind, obedient, his head down, but not so much that he couldn’t eye the shop’s wares.
Each display was a human-size sculpture of an idealized human, gender unclear. Each sported a different Celestial Nadir crystal prosthesis. The two nearest the entrance had but one implant each—an eye and a hand. The two stone models in the middle of the rows each sported three artificial parts. The final two sculptures, closest to the plangent attendant, seemed more crystal than sculpture.
The attendant continued smiling, seeming perfectly at ease. Ususi coughed and said, “My friends have been telling me for months about the new look coming out of Vaelan. Before I arrived here, I thought they spoke of a new body paint, or piercing, or some combination of the two. But this is a little more extreme!” She waved her hands at the displays.
“Oh, it is more extreme, I can assure you, Madam …?”
“Please call me Urale,” said Ususi. “This is my manservant, Alon.”
The plangent glanced at Iahn, dismissed him, and fixed her gaze upon Ususi, her smile growing broader and more friendly, if that were possible.
Iahn continued to stare at the plangent, his eyes missing nothing. He wondered if she would be vulnerable to a death stroke, with her new physiology. He shrugged and watched the woman breathe, noting the way her muscles gathered in her shoulders, legs, and back as she moved toward Ususi.
“Then please call me Tebora!” Tebora’s crystal eye flickered to life. Iahn, sensitive to flows of magic, felt his carefully crafted illusory guise waver under the arcane probe, but it held. He saw Ususi stiffen, then relax—Ususi was also sensitive to harsh emanations of magic.
Ususi cleared her throat. “Very well … Tebora. Now, please explain to me why I’d want to mar the flesh given me by my fair mother and lordly father by implanting gemstone piercings that are so … sizable?”
“The modifications we offer are more than fashion,” said Tebora. “They are an improvement. To accept Datharathi crystal is to simply become better!”
“Better?” Iahn detected the note of interest in Ususi’s voice—was it feigned or real?
Tebora moved closer, to the display nearest Ususi. “Oh, yes, Madam Urale! For instance, this configuration before you—it’s called ‘Strong and Tireless!’ And why is that? Because once you accept these Datharathi crystal substitutions”—she waved to the display where the sculpture’s left arm, right leg, and long strip down the back were artificial—“you’ll find yourself with the strength of several men, and with the vigor to hold your own against any normal person!”
“Really? That seems an extraordinary claim,” said Ususi.
“Oh, but why would I say so if it weren’t true? Perhaps you’d like a demonstrat
ion?”
“Maybe,” said Ususi, “First tell me—why do you call these crystals Datharathi?”
The woman laughed. “Do you jest? Surely you’ve heard of Datharathi Minerals, one of the most influential chakas in Vaelan?”
“Oh, of course I have—who hasn’t? But where do they mine the crystal?”
The woman paused as if considering the question, but Iahn tensed. Something moved behind that pause—he could feel its enmity. It wasn’t the saleswoman. Whatever it was, “it” gazed out at Urale and Alon for a moment through the woman’s one living and one crystal eye, then retreated, apparently satisfied.
Oblivious to whatever had just passed through her, Tebora said, “Who knows where the crystal is mined? Who cares? The raw crystal’s no good by itself, anyway—it must be custom cut and fitted by our trained staff here at the Body Shop to imbue its spectacular advantages. Raw Datharathi crystal is worthless. But maybe you’re looking for something other than our ‘Strong and Tireless’ configuration? How about ‘Quick and Vigorous?’ ‘Insightful and Spellstrong?’ ‘Pious and Healing?’ ‘Cerebral and Ki-strong?’ Or, how about the complete package—a whole-body prosthesis with every attribute we offer? Those are too expensive for any but our noblest, richest, highest-class patron—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sure I didn’t want to insult your means …” The woman trailed off with a long-practiced appraising tone in her voice.
Iahn was amused, seeing the art of the deal in action, but he didn’t betray his disguise. He was only a servant. Instead, he continued to watch the plangent, looking for her physical nexus, where one swift blow or slash would collapse her life. Because of all her crystal enhancements, locating her weak points was proving difficult, despite his expertise in detecting such things.
Ususi said, “I don’t think I can decide all at once! I mean, the choices! Plus, how do I know what you say is even true?”
Tebora sang out, “The customer asks for a demonstration! Hmm … why don’t I wrestle your manservant? That should prove something. Certainly a normal woman of my shape would be hard pressed to overcome a man accustomed to hard work?”
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