Tangle of Thornes

by Lorel Clayton

  I shook my head. “Nanny could be anywhere. I don’t know if she was taken yesterday or the day before—I was in prison.”

  “Never been myself.”

  “You’re joking.” I’d seen him commit countless crimes.

  “You need to learn to run when you see a Guard uniform. I told your uncle I could bust you out, but he promised to handle it.”

  Ulric. He left me there. “Why would you offer to help?”

  “I was worried about you.”

  That I didn’t believe for a second. “There are more important things to worry about. If Nanny was taken soon after my arrest, she could be on the slavers’ ship already.”

  “Bell is watching the docks. She’s waiting for an opportunity to sneak aboard, but the place is teaming with mercenaries.”

  “I know someone who can get onboard.”

  Duane looked annoyed. “Not that guardsman who showed up at Ulric’s?”

  “Yes. Conrad swore he’d help.”

  “You know why you’ve got him twisted so tightly around your finger, Eva? He doesn’t have a backbone. He’s like some gooey, sickly sweet piece of taffy. How can you stand him?”

  “I like good people.”

  “And what’s your definition of good? Not Solhan? You’re rebelling, you know. You hate your people so much you’re automatically drawn to anything the opposite. I saw Viktor do it too, but he grew up. When will you? When are you going to make your own judgments?”

  I rolled my eyes. A typical Duane lecture. He never spoke, saving it all up until it poured out like this. I ignored him, except for the bits I could use.

  “I don’t like something simply because it’s not Solhan. You’re not Solhan, and I don’t like you.” Besides, I thought, I like Erick, and he’s the embodiment of all things Solhan—powerful, certain, brilliant, accomplished.

  “Fine. Go to your guardsman. If he helps us find Old Nanny, I don’t care how insipid he is.”

  “Thanks for your blessing.” I couldn’t breathe without it being sarcastic. I straightened my jacket, rumpled in the tousle with Duane, and set off to find Conrad.

  It was colder without the braziers. I glanced back at the flames and saw Duane watching me. He looked away quickly and focused on the slaver’s wagons.

  I didn’t buy his claim he was keeping an eye on the Solhan Circle to investigate Viktor’s death and Nanny’s abduction. Like he’d said, this was his territory now. He was getting the lay of the land. He pretended to be kind-hearted, doing a good deed now and then, but it was for show. It had worked on Viktor. My brother never let a word be spoken against his friend. I wasn’t so naïve. In Duane’s heart, this was all business.

  The morning services would get out soon, and the streets would fill up. I took advantage of the temporary lull in foot traffic and reached the café quickly. Most businesses were closed all day, but not Karolyne’s. The post-prayer crowd was her favorite. People bored and hungry and in no mood to go home and cook would pay extra, especially the Light Bringer’s worshippers who were up before dawn and fasting.

  The restaurant already had a few customers when I got there, some drinking semi-noxious, yet potent, kaffe, while others examined the menu. Jorg was growling in the kitchen, massive arms swinging about with pans and wooden spoons. He must have left the house right after I talked to him for him to beat me here. The growling had a melody to it, and I realized it was the grall equivalent of humming. It was hard to tell with the tusks, but I thought he was smiling too. Seemed he was satisfied with his new job.

  I found Karolyne hunched behind the kaffe bar arranging filled tins on the lower shelves. Without preamble, I said, “Good news is I’m out of jail. Bad news is I need today off too.”

  “What!” Karolyne stood. “I’ve been shorthanded all week, Eva. No. You’re my friend, and that’s the problem. At some point, I need to draw the line. No.”

  “Nanny is missing. I need to do whatever I can to find her before it’s too late.” I put on my most sincere expression. I didn’t do teary-eyed well. Glares were my strong point, but I tried.

  “I thought you hated that old hag?”

  “It was more talk than substance. It’s a Solhan thing. You treat your enemies bad and your family worse. She raised me.”

  “Eva....”

  “I’m serious. I’m only here to give you the heads up, not to ask your permission. I also need to know if you’ve seen Conrad. I have to find him.”

  Karolyne gave a long drawn out sigh, letting me know how exasperated she was. She could fire me; I didn’t care. She might not understand it, but some things were more important than money. I wasn’t about to take up eating sewer mushrooms, but I was willing to go hungry for a while.

  “I really am thinking about hiring somebody else....” I saw her tense posture ease as she relented. “I spotted Conrad talking to people as they left the temples. He seemed pretty intense.”

  “He’s investigating Nanny’s disappearance, probably questioning everyone in the neighborhood. He’s thorough like that.” I felt a warm glow of fondness for him at that moment.

  Before setting out to find Conrad, I made a detour to the kitchen. The scents of cinnamon, smoked sausage, and tangy tomato drew me. Jorg was improving.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Jorg flipped a flat cake in the air and said, “Of course. Oh, how much coin do you want?”

  “For what?”

  “Rent.” He stood proudly, the top of his head jammed against the roof. “I got paid today. There’s no other house that can hold me, so I’d like to stick with your cellar.”

  “I don’t know. Whatever you can spare. It’s not important. I was wondering about when you worked in the Slave Quarter. Did you notice anything odd?”

  “Like humans kept in cages and sold to the highest bidder?” Who knew a grall could be so droll?

  “I mean, did you notice more slaves shipped downriver than ended up on the block?”

  He went quiet, thinking. “They didn’t like questions. I asked why we put a girl up for sale only to have the buyer hand her right back, and from the way they looked at me I was afraid to sleep that night. I’m big, but my throat is as vulnerable as anyone’s. They had their own buyers, including one of the caravan guards I played dice with. There was a lot of that kind of oddness. So yeah, more slaves were sent to the docks than actually sold.”

  “You didn’t overhear why? Where they were going?”

  “No. Randall never spoke except to yell at me, and the other two never talked at all.”

  “Did you know Harald and Jhenna were married?”

  “Sure. They shared a wagon.”

  “Oh.” More observation practice was in order.

  I snatched a roast tomato from the grill and blew on it between bites.

  “Hey!”

  “Thanks, Jorg.” I darted away. It would take ages for him to disentangle himself from the kitchen to chase after me, not that I thought he would.

  “You’re welcome,” he said in a laughing rumble.

  ~

  I searched the temple district. It wasn’t the actual ‘Temple District’ in the heart of the city, with its marbled columns and gigantic arched roofs. This was the human version. It was wedged between my neighborhood and the Spinners and Weavers district, and, while the buildings were more impressive than others in the Outskirts, there wasn’t a lot of marble and gold—more like brick and a dash of copper leaf. Still, it was pretty.

  I’d often thought about stepping inside one of the big archways of the Light Bringer’s temple and admiring the statues up close, out of curiosity, but some part of me felt unwelcome. I trusted my instincts and didn’t tempt the god this time either. I checked the other temples first and found Conrad haranguing an elderly man who had emerged from the Hearth Mother’s service.

  “But your shop is right next door. You must have heard something,” Conrad loudly insisted.

  “I don’t hear anything without my cone,” the old man shou
ted back, before raising the hearing aid, a large funnel made of tin sheets, to his ear to await Conrad’s reply.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Conrad’s beleaguered gaze shifted to me, and I immediately fell silent, ashamed of myself.

  “Thank you for your time!” he told the deaf man before coming over to me.

  “I didn’t mean to laugh. I never appreciated how impossible your job can be sometimes.”

  “At least he was willing to talk, even if it didn’t work out.” Conrad stood close to me, and I saw how his usually shining armor and golden hair was covered in dust.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I’ve been going to places and questioning people I’d rather forget about.” There were dark circles under his eyes too.

  “You didn’t sleep, did you? Conrad...” I wiped a smudge of dirt from his cheek and gave him a wry smile. “I’m taking advantage of your goodness. I’m sorry. But there’s something more I need.”

  I expected him to say, No. Enough, like Karolyne, but he nodded wearily. “What is it?”

  “There’s something strange going on with the Solhan Circle slavers. I can’t go into specifics, but I’m worried they’re the ones who snatched Nanny. They have a ship full of slaves sitting at the docks, ready to leave anytime, and I want you to search it.”

  He stared at me expressionlessly for a moment. “You want me to harass the merchants whose testimony helped get you out of jail? What’s more, you’re accusing them of enslaving a free woman?”

  “When you put it that way.... Look, something is going on, and I’m almost certain they were involved with Viktor’s death and Nanny’s abduction.”

  He shook his head. He must think me crazy, but all he said was, “I can’t do it without a writ.”

  “Sir Markham and Gypsum can help. The detective I hired, their brother-in-law, was murdered while investigating those slave ships.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “It all makes sense. Everything points to the Solhan Circle.” As soon as I said it, I doubted the assertion.

  I had suspected everyone from Duane to Erick to my own sister. I was bumbling in the dark. Was my hatred of slavery, and Randall in particular, clouding my judgment now? Was I wrong?

  “Alright.” He was exhausted and unwilling to fight me. “I don’t have any other leads. You’re sure about this?”

  “Yes,” I said, strangling my doubts.

  “I’ll go to Sir Markham.” He bowed and turned to leave.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No.” He’d finally said it. “This is Guard business.” His certitude made me hyper aware of the uniform he wore. He was the rightful authority in this city. How dare I question him?

  My instinct was to fight for what I wanted, regardless of his rank, but I didn’t want to risk alienating him, and his patience had to be running thin. I nodded.

  He strode toward the Central City. That uniform would get him through the gates and into see Sir Markham, but not even he would be allowed anywhere near the Crowns. My problems were beneath their notice anyway, unless Duane’s suspicions were true. Enslaving free-born humans within Highcrowne might be enough to get the Crowns’ attention. Unless they were condoning it. I wouldn’t put anything past the Elf King.

  I headed back the way I’d come, not sure what I should be doing now. People better suited for the task than me were investigating Nanny’s disappearance and the slaver problem. I should go to work, make things easier on Karolyne at least—but I wouldn’t.

  I kept thinking about the Slave Quarter this morning. That empty square and those lonely fires.

  A string of dirigibles passed overhead. More refugees came to the city almost every day by boat, airship, wagon, and on foot, fleeing the wars in the human nations and the encroachments of the Dead God. They shouldn’t be here, so no one would notice if they disappeared. I had noticed. Of course, Duane had too, but what mattered was whether or not I was going do something about it.

  “Eva.” The voice whispered from a shadowed doorway.

  I turned. “Erick?

  18│ FADED MEMORY

  ~

  ERICK HADN’T LEFT TOWN. HE hadn’t run, and my estimation of him went up even further. He was cloaked and hooded. His garb wasn’t out of place on a winter morning, but it also served to hide his identity.

  “They set you free?” His wary gaze darted back and forth between me and the street. “I saw you talking to a guardsman.”

  “Conrad is a friend.”

  He was taut and ready to run if needed. I guessed the reason for his agitation.

  “Don’t worry. I said nothing about Kali. I never mentioned your name.”

  “Then why did they release you? Your guardsman intervened?”

  “No, a dwarf friend backed me up—and the Solhan Circle slavers.”

  “What?”

  “I know. I was pretty surprised myself. They are doing a great many surprising things, like buying up slaves and sending them east. And,” I felt a surge of urgency whenever I said it, “Nanny has been abducted.”

  He tensed. “Madam Olinov is a very dear friend of mine. You think it was the Solhan Circle?”

  “Who else?” There was no point in going over my long list of alternative suspects. Conrad would find out soon enough if I was right about the slavers. Yet, now Erick was here, there might be a better way. “Can you find her with magic?”

  He eyed the direction Conrad had gone. “Not here.”

  Erick refused to carry on the conversation in the street. At least he seemed convinced I wasn’t about to turn him over to the Guard, so he agreed to go with me to Viktor’s house.

  Once inside, he pulled off his hood and stared with dismay at the devastation, which was not as bad as it had been before I started cleaning. “The slavers did this? Why?”

  “One of many things I’d like to know. They ransacked the bookshop a few days ago too. I was cleaning it up when....” When I’d kissed him, but this wasn’t the time to talk about that. “I think they’re looking for something of Viktor’s.”

  Erick glanced at the torn portrait, then bent down and picked up a shattered bit of porcelain. It was the remains of a figurine, a lady in a ball gown with her arms broken off. Nanny, at odds with her nature, had collected delicate, beautiful things. Had.

  I forced myself to stop thinking about her in the past tense. She was alive, and I would find her. “Will you help me?”

  He paused, considering. “With a strand of hair or flake of skin, a mage can construct an amulet that allows one to trace the steps of the person. It’s expensive and very difficult to produce.”

  “Can you make one?”

  “No.” His fingers reached into the pouch at his belt and came up with a flat disc of hemlock hung from a strap of leather. It was engraved with symbols, dark lines and circles where the wood had been scorched.

  “What’s that?”

  “An amulet such as I was describing. This one was constructed from a stray hair left in Viktor’s comb.”

  I felt a shiver. “You had it made?”

  “I was able to retrace Viktor’s steps from the scene of his death, but nothing came of it.”

  “I don’t care how much it costs. I want one that can find Nanny.” My mind raced, thinking of ways to pay for it. I could have the book sale, but if Erick said something was expensive, then it would likely be more than I would make off Viktor’s entire inventory.

  “There’s a brush in her room.” I ran for the stairs, not hearing what Erick said behind me, and came back with it a minute later.

  He took it, removed the woven mat of silver hair caught between the bristles and placed the reminders of Nanny’s existence in his pouch.

  “I will have the wizard undertake to produce another amulet,” he said. “It takes three days, Eva.” From his tone, he thought it a lifetime.

  I knew it was too long. In three days, Nanny could be far from Highcrowne, lost among slaves or dead and burnt. Co
nrad must search that ship; it was our best chance.

  “Do it,” I said. “Tell me the price, and I’ll get the gold for you.” I suspected it would cost gold, not silver.

  “Keep your gems and jewels, my lady. I will deal with everything.” He was too generous, but I accepted. I had no other way to pay for it.

  “You must know I don’t have any gems. I don’t like being teased.”

  “You’re wrong. In your eyes, I see the finest diamonds.” My eyes were pretty pale, the irises almost white. He stepped closer and touched my hair. “These locks of ebony alone would be worth a fortune.”

  I hated the poetry found on Uncle’s bookshelves. ‘Thou’ and ‘art’ never made sense to me. This I liked. “Go on,” I said.

  He raised my knuckles to his lips. “Alabaster skin...” Then he grasped my chin. “Amethyst lips, which I have assayed with my own and know to be genuine. You are wealthy as a queen, my lady.”

  He continued to look at my mouth, and I wanted him to kiss me already. I leaned in but waited for him to bridge the distance. He didn’t disappoint. Sharp stubble pressed against my chin, his comforting scent all around me. His tongue tasted like summer berries, making me want more.

  I still felt an urgent need to find Nanny, was aware of Conrad doggedly carrying out my wishes, but at that moment all those things faded in importance, even my guilt over letting them fade. I put my arms and legs around him—riding pants were good for such acrobatics—and he pressed me against the wall.

  I glimpsed Viktor’s portrait out of the corner of my eye and hesitated for a second, coming up for air. It was then I heard a crunch of glass from across the room. I turned to see what had made the sound.

  “Excuse the interruption,” Duane said. He didn’t look apologetic. He stood rigidly and looked at us from beneath dark brows. He reminded me of one of the statues in the temple of the Silent God, gaze stern, disappointed in the world and in His subjects. I wasn’t one of Duane’s subjects, and, as I’d told Jessup’s man, I wasn’t his girl either.

  “What do you want? This is my house now, by the way, and I’d prefer you ask permission before taking a step inside. Not that a burglar like you would understand the concept of knocking.”