“Yeah,” I said. “I’m really sorry about this…but I think I need some help.”
Chapter 5: Old Mistakes
Riordan picked me up about two hours later.
I had walked a few miles to the nearest gas station, one located along State Highway 190. Since Shorewood was rich, it was a nice gas station, complete with an attached café that sold bad coffee and overpriced sandwiches. I bought the biggest mug of coffee available, took it without cream or sugar, and sat down to await Riordan. The coffee wasn’t great, but it was hot, and after the long walk from Morvilind’s mansion, the warmth helped.
The caffeine also helped me to think.
I had some serious problems, and I didn’t know what to do about them, let alone how to survive them. I sat in the café and drank coffee, scowling into my mug. It started to snow while I waited, and I watched the flakes fall.
I didn’t know what to do about the problems that Morvilind had dumped into my lap…but at least I had a starting point. I wanted to know what was inside of those envelopes.
I wanted to know very badly.
The rumble of a truck’s diesel engine cut into my thoughts, and I looked up from my cup. It was past noon by now, and the light had taken on the weird grayish quality of a winter afternoon. A big, battered blue Royal Motors H100 pickup truck crunched into the gas station’s parking lot. I looked at it for a moment, then laughed to myself.
“Good God,” I muttered. Riordan was an assassin, and part of my mind had expected him to turn up in a gleaming supercar, something like the Royal Motors TX-199 Venator coupe that Boccand and I had wrecked in Minneapolis. That had been a cool car. Of course, part of being a Shadow Hunter meant keeping a low profile, and that old truck would not stand out in most of Wisconsin.
I finished off the coffee, walked across the parking lot, and opened the truck’s door. The truck was high enough (and I was short enough) that it took a bit of effort to get off the ground and into the truck, but I managed to do it without losing too much of my dignity in the process. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it in a short skirt, though.
“Nadia,” said Riordan MacCormac.
He looked good. Of course, I thought he always did. He was wearing a heavy jacket, jeans, and boots, and despite the dim light he nonetheless wore his wrap-around sunglasses. Unlike the interior of many pickup trucks, the inside of his truck was neat and orderly. He had been a man-at-arms in service to Duke Tarmegon of Houston, and the habits still stuck with him.
Plus, I suppose being an assassin was a lot like being a thief. If you weren’t organized, you ended up dead really quick.
“Riordan,” I said, settling into the seat. “Did you seriously rent this truck?”
“Actually, it’s mine,” said Riordan.
“Really?” I said. “A pickup truck?”
“I needed to pick you up, so it seemed like the appropriate vehicle,” said Riordan.
I laughed, even though it wasn’t that funny. “True.”
“It occasionally comes in handy for moving equipment,” said Riordan. “Guns and bombs and the like. And it fits in here. The last time I used it was when I was looking for you in North Dakota.”
“It is nice to be so high off the road,” I said. “It’s not like I get to experience the sensation of great height all that often.”
“Speaking of the road,” said Riordan, and I felt the weight of his eyes on me from behind the sunglasses, “where do you want to go?”
A little jolt went through me. Even with the sunglasses on, I felt the lure of his Shadowmorph, the creature from the Shadowlands that gave him his abilities. The creature had a symbiotic relationship with him and gave him strength and stamina in exchange for some of the life force of people he killed. The Shadowmorph ate life force…and I was a source of life force sitting right within reach.
I shook off the effect. I wanted to say we should go to a hotel room where we could rip each other’s clothes off…but not yet. Not now.
I wasn’t ready for that yet.
Also, I had bigger problems just now.
“My apartment,” I said. I realized Riordan had never been there, and I rattled off the address. Riordan nodded and put the big truck into gear, and we rumbled out of the parking lot and onto the road. “I need to pick up some things before I decide what to do next.”
“All right,” said Riordan. “Morvilind has a problem for you to solve?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Remember how I hoped it would be easy? It’s not going to be easy. And there’s something else going on.”
“Tell me,” said Riordan. “Perhaps I can help.”
I hesitated. Secrecy came as naturally to me as breathing, thanks to Morvilind’s training, and I found it very hard to trust.
But I had trusted Riordan in the past, and he hadn’t betrayed me. Maybe I could trust him a little further.
“All right,” I said.
So I told him everything that had happened since our phone call – Mr. Cane the banehound, the wrecked Vaquero, Morvilind’s odd questions of me, and his demand that I take a Nihlus Stone from the Tower of Regrets in Venomhold. Riordan was a good listener. It took me maybe ten minutes to get it all out, and he didn’t interrupt or interject once.
“That,” said Riordan at last, taking off his sunglasses, “is quite a problem.”
I always liked his eyes. They were the color of expensive bookcases, and were usually calm, though sometimes they flashed with hunger or anger.
And when he drew on his Shadowmorph, they filled with darkness.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Morvilind is a hard bastard,” said Riordan without rancor. He hated Morvilind as much as I did since his brother Aidan had once been in my position. After a century, I think, the hatred had hardened to something old and cold. “This is practically a suicide mission.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but he thinks I can do it…and he might not be wrong.”
“What do you mean?” he said.
“Um,” I said. “There’s something else I should tell you. Have you ever heard of the Knight of Grayhold?”
For just a moment, his eyes flashed black.
“Yes,” he said.
“Right,” I said. “Well, last year, during that Rebel attack on Madison, I had to flee to the Shadowlands. I wound up in Grayhold, and the Knight drove off an anthrophage pack. In exchange, I owe him a favor…”
“That sounds like Jacob Temple, all right,” said Riordan.
“Wait,” I said. “You know him?”
“I suppose there is something I should tell you,” said Riordan. “When I was a man-at-arms in Duke Tarmegon’s service, so was Temple.”
“Hold on,” I said. “The Knight of Grayhold was a man-at-arms in service to an Elven noble?”
“He wasn’t the Knight of Grayhold back then,” said Riordan. “He was just a man-at-arms and a member of the Wizard’s Legion, just as I was. He had a wife and daughter. I don’t know exactly what happened since it was after I left and became a Shadow Hunter of the Family, but his wife was killed, and he somehow became the Knight of Grayhold.” He let out an irritated hiss. “I went to him for help against Morvilind, and he refused. It was a…heated argument, and we haven’t spoken since.”
“Jesus,” I said. He glanced at me. He was religious enough that he didn’t like to hear me take the Lord’s name in vain. “His name is actually Jacob Temple?”
“It is,” said Riordan. “With the right spells, a wizard can use someone’s proper name to track them down, though the ability isn’t all that common. With Temple, though, it doesn’t matter. He’s so powerful that anyone who comes after him looking for a fight is going to regret it. Within the boundaries of Grayhold, he’s basically invincible.” He shook his head. “I suppose Temple wants to collect on the favor you owe him?”
“Actually,” I said, “I think he warned me this was going to happen.”
“What do you mean?” said Riordan.
“Yesterday,” I said.
“I had gone to the Marneys’ house, and he was waiting for me.”
“He can’t leave Grayhold,” said Riordan.
“A projection of him,” I said. “He said that Morvilind was soon going to assign me a dangerous task and that I probably wouldn’t survive it. He wanted to make sure that I lived long enough to repay his favor, so he gave me two envelopes. They contain the names of two people who can help me.”
“The Graysworn,” said Riordan. “You’re not Graysworn, are you?”
“Just what the hell are the Graysworn?” I said. “I keep hearing the name turn up. The Knight wouldn’t give me a straight answer. He says they’re people who have agreed to help him.”
Riordan snorted. “That sounds like him. Do you know what the Knight of Grayhold is supposed to do?”
“Defend Earth from the Dark Ones,” I said.
“Yes,” said Riordan. “The Graysworn are…not quite a secret society, and not quite a militia. They are people who have sworn oaths to the Knight to help him battle the Dark Ones when the time comes.”
“The High Queen allows that?” I said. “I’m surprised.”
“The enemy of her enemy is her friend,” said Riordan. “Or, at least, an ally of convenience. The Archons worship the Dark Ones, and we’ve both found out the hard way that the Rebels are working with the Dark One cults. The Knight’s duty is to defend Earth from the Dark Ones, and while Jacob Temple is many things, he does keep his oaths. That, and he doesn’t care about political power on Earth. I think he and the High Queen mainly stay out of each other’s way.”
“Right,” I said. “If I’m going to steal this Nihlus Stone thing from Venomhold, whatever it is…”
“I’ve never heard of it,” said Riordan.
“Then it’s going to upset the Dark Ones,” I said. I frowned. “Does that mean the Knight of Venomhold works with the Dark Ones?” I looked at Riordan. “You knew the Knight of Grayhold before he became the Knight. Don’t tell me that the Knight of Venomhold is your ex-girlfriend or something.”
Riordan laughed his harsh laugh. “No. My marriage and my previous relationships ended badly, but not that badly. I don’t know the Knight of Venomhold, though I do know a few things about her. She became the Knight a few years after the Conquest and hates the High Queen. She’s also betrayed her office and offered Venomhold as a sanctuary to Dark One cultists, and based on what you’ve told me, Rebels as well.”
We were back in Milwaukee proper, drawing near to my apartment. I saw the lights of the medical college in the distance.
“Then who sent the banehound after me?” I said.
“A good question,” said Riordan. “It would have to be a wizard of considerable skill. I knew a few summoning spells, but I couldn’t manage it.”
“Have you fought a banehound before?” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “The only way to kill it is to cut off its head and take out its heart…”
“Yuck.”
“And then to burn the pieces separately. Even then its essence is drawn back to the Shadowlands and can reform in a few years,” said Riordan. “The easiest way, though, is to kill the wizard who summoned it. That breaks the binding on the banehound, and the creature can go on its way. They’re not malicious the way anthrophages or bloodrats are, and once the spell is broken, they don’t hold a grudge.”
I sighed. “It must be one of the Dark One cultists who called the thing up and sent it after me. Your spell blocks my psychic spoor so their pet anthrophages can’t find me, so they must have tried something else.”
“That is the most likely explanation,” said Riordan. “Is this your building?”
“Yeah,” I said.
He pulled to the curb, the big truck’s engine letting out a low rumble as it started to idle.
“What next?” said Riordan.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll be busy for the next few weeks, but I’ll try to stay in touch when I can. You…”
“No,” said Riordan.
I blinked and looked at him.
“No?” I said.
“What do you need from me?” he said.
I started to snarl that I didn’t need help, that I was fine on my own, but that was pure reflex. It was also comically wrong. There was no way I could survive a trip to Venomhold by myself. I couldn’t also face that damned banehound alone. If Mr. Cane had been a little smarter, if he had ambushed me, say, outside of my apartment instead of right in front of Morvilind’s wards, then I would have been killed.
“This isn’t your problem,” I said.
“It isn’t,” said Riordan, still calm. “Nevertheless, I wish to help.”
“This isn’t about revenge, is it?” I said. “Finding some way to screw Morvilind? Because if you try to take revenge on him through me, it’s going to get Russell killed.”
“I know,” said Riordan. “I can’t take revenge on Morvilind. Even if I could, I wouldn’t do it in a way that would harm you or Russell.”
I frowned. “For God’s sake, Riordan. You won’t get paid for this, and you can’t use this to get revenge on Morvilind. So why help me?”
“Because.” His eyes met mine. “I don’t want you to get hurt, and I will be upset if you do.”
My heart skipped a beat. Maybe two.
“Oh,” I said. I stuttered a little over the word, my voice unsteady. “Okay. Um. Good. I’m glad we’re in agreement on that. I don’t want to get hurt either.”
“Will let me help you?” said Riordan.
“Yeah,” I said. “All right. Let’s see who the Knight wants to help me rob Venomhold.”
Riordan shut off the truck, and we got out, walking through the cold to my apartment. I had expected him to wait in the truck, but he had invited himself along, and I didn’t feel like telling him to stay. The old cliché about what happened when you invited a man in for a drink came to my mind. I glanced at Riordan, but he wore the focused expression that came over him when he was working on something serious.
I was a little disappointed, but it was for the best. Having a banehound on my trail was probably not the best time for such things.
I unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, crossing to my work table. Riordan glanced around, taking in the exercise equipment and the tools and the other items. I grabbed a pair of duffel bags from underneath the table. I had always suspected I might need to get out of here in a hurry, so the bags held clothes, weapons, tools, cash, and fake identification, all the things I would need while on the run. Riordan crossed to the bathroom door, and then glanced into my bedroom. I almost snapped at him for snooping, and then I realized what he was doing. He was checking to make sure that Mr. Cane was not lying in wait for me. I should have done the same thing myself.
“You live here?” said Riordan.
“Yeah,” I said, setting the duffel bags on the table. “Well, not always. I stay with the Marneys a lot. Doesn’t look very cozy, does it?”
He refused to take the bait. “I am not the judge of what constitutes coziness. We should probably decide where we’re going next.”
“Yes,” I admitted.
The two envelopes stared up at me from the table. I shrugged, tore opened the first one, and drew out the contents. Within was a notecard with a name and address, and a short letter that looked as if it had been written on a manual typewriter. I looked at the name…
“Oh, shit,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” said Riordan.
“The name,” I said.
Riordan glanced at the card. “Hakon Valborg? I don’t recognize him.”
“I do,” I said. “He’s the grandfather of Russell's girlfriend. He’s also a former member of the Wizard's Legion.” The letter contained instructions to Hakon from the Knight, commanding him to obey me without question. I wondered if I could use that to make him teach me magic. “I had no idea that he was Graysworn.”
“Those of us who have been to the
Shadowlands,” said Riordan, “tend not to talk about it with those who have not.”
“No,” I said, putting down Hakon’s envelope and opening the second.
I glanced over the name and address. Robert Ross? I didn’t know anyone named Robert Ross. I…
Then I remembered.
“Shit!” I said. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“You know this Robert Ross?” said Riordan, reading over my shoulder. I suppose I was short enough that reading over my shoulder wasn’t hard.
“I don’t,” I said. “I know his wife Alexandra, though. She works for Duke Tamirlas’s office in Madison. I…almost got her killed during the Rebel attack, and she thinks I’m an Inquisition agent.”
“What does her husband do?” said Riordan.
“Man-at-arms in the Duke’s service,” I said. A wave of guilt went through me. I had almost killed Alexandra myself when she had been panicking after the attack. I hadn’t, but I very well could have, and it still bothered me.
It bothered me a lot.
I read the letter next to Ross’s address. It, too, contained directions on how to contact him, with instructions from the Knight.
“I assume we will need to visit them next?” said Riordan.
I didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to make up my mind. Riordan was right. I needed help, and I couldn’t get in and out of Venomhold alone. Sure, I knew exactly how to get there…but getting out again would be harder.
Especially if I ran into that bloodrat again.
I needed help, and if I went to Venomhold alone I was going to get killed…but if I went with others, would I get them killed as well? I didn’t want to get Riordan hurt. Hakon was an old man, but he had a large family that loved him. Robert had a young wife, and when I had met Alexandra, she had wanted to become pregnant. If he got killed, he would leave behind a widow, and possibly an orphan. And if we all got killed and the child had magical ability, maybe Morvilind would recruit the child as his next pet thief…
I was in a lot of trouble, and I didn’t want to pull anyone else into it.
Cloak Games: Shatter Stone Page 7
