Ilanna bared her teeth. “So how do you know his age?”
“The hands! The hands never lie.” Daytin twitched in his bonds, as if he’d forgotten for a moment that he was tied up. “They were covered with liver spots, his knuckles twisted by rheumatism. I tried to sell him an unguent that would soften his calluses, but he ignored me. Instead, he told me he’d come for the Flaming Tansy. Called it by name, he did.”
“And you, of course, sold it to him.” Ilanna released his head, but fixed him with a hard glare.
Daytin nodded. “When a man offers you enough coin to be free of debt and feed your family for a month, you give him what he wants and thank the gods for your good fortune!”
“And this mysterious benefactor, what can you tell me about him?” Ilanna leaned over the apothecary. “Think carefully. Your life depends on it.”
“He wore dull-colored clothing,” Daytin spat. “Simple cloak, a dusty brown, I think. I didn’t get a good look at his clothes, but his boots. Yes, his boots!” His eyes flew wide. “Too fine to be any ordinary man’s boots. The sort of thing only the men of The Gardens and Old Praamis wear.”
Ilanna’s eyes narrowed. “He was a nobleman?”
“Or a majordomo or trusted servant.” Daytin fixed her with a pleading look. “Please, that’s all I know about the man. He came just after dark, as I was closing up my shop.”
“And you were too busy staring at his gold to notice his features,” Ilanna snarled.
“Yes, but had I known what he intended to do with it…” The man’s eyes went to the child on the table beside him, and he shook his head. “I’ve children of my own. I’d never want anything to happen to an innocent like them.”
“For their sakes, you had best be telling the truth.” Ilanna placed her face close to the apothecary, close enough to smell the anis he chewed and see every whisker on his unshaven cheeks. “If I find you’ve been lying to me—”
“I swear to the Mistress, and all the gods,” Daytin nearly shouted. “I’ve told you all I know!”
Ilanna straightened and stared down at the man for a long moment. “We shall see.” She moved away from Daytin and motioned to Keltor. “Put him to sleep and leave him on the front steps of his house.”
“Yes, Guild Master.” Keltor gave her a little bow, then turned to one of the shelves and rummaged among the bottles.
As Ilanna strode from the room, she found Tyman shuffling along beside her. She slowed her steps to match his pace and offered her arm.
“Oh, pish posh!” Master Scorpion waved her away. “I’m not that old yet.”
“What do you think?” Ilanna asked.
“He told you everything he knew, that’s for certain.” Tyman gave her a little grin. “I’m just surprised he didn’t wet himself in his terror.”
“And his story? What do you make of it? A bottle of poison decades old.” She shot a glance at the Scorpion. “Would its effects last that long?”
“Some poisons, yes.” Tyman nodded. “I couldn’t tell you about Flaming Tansy specifically, but I can consult with my Journeymen to find out. It wouldn’t surprise me, however. Some of the ingredients we use in our experiments date back hundreds of years.”
Ilanna raised an eyebrow, curious.
“House secrets,” Tyman said, and waved her away. “Suffice it to say, such a poison could exist.”
“We have to assume it did, then.” Ilanna frowned. “And what he said about the boots, being too fancy for a commoner. Not many noblemen would make the purchase in person, but I could see them sending a trusted bodyservant to do it.”
“Trust is only built over decades.” Tyman pursed his lips. “It would, indeed, be an older man, one who has served the same family for more than one generation.”
“And to come up with the amount of coin Daytin was speaking about, enough to feed him and his family for a month, that speaks of deep pockets.”
“Very deep,” Tyman emphasized.
“So we’re looking for someone from The Gardens or Old Praamis, then.” Ilanna blew out her cheeks. “That narrows it down somewhat. Now all we need to do is find a noble or wealthy family that has an elderly servant working for them.” She snorted. “Sound like every noble house you know?”
Tyman shrugged. “I have never once envied you the role of Guild Master. Yet if anyone can find the solution, I have faith that it will be you.” He grinned. “I, however, have a bottle of Nyslian port waiting for me back in my chambers. Perks of being House Master, I suppose.”
Ilanna stopped and laid a hand on the aging Scorpion’s arm. “Thank you, Master Tyman.”
“At your service, as always.” With a little bow, Master Scorpion turned and hobbled off in the direction of his chambers.
Ilanna barely paid attention as she strode through the Nest, out the double doors, and into the tunnels beyond. Her mind was busy working at the problem of this new discovery.
If it’s a noble family poisoning children, it’s going to be even harder to find them. Puffed-up lords and ladies have the Duke’s protection to shield them.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. While many in the nobility paid Duke Phonnis for the services of his Arbitors, his private guard force, Ilanna had her ways of convincing nobles to do what she wanted. It would require the right application of leverage, but with time, she could find out anything.
Time simply isn’t a luxury we have. No more bodies had turned up since the one in Old Town Market that morning, but she had no desire to wait until another did. We’ve got to find a solution now.
No solution had presented itself by the time she reached her chambers, and her mood had gone from sour to downright rotten. She nearly bit Darreth’s head off when he cleared his throat in that irritating way he did when he wanted her attention but knew she was in a foul temper.
“What?” she snapped.
Her tone rolled off Darreth like water over a raincloth. His position as aide put him in the unfortunate position of being close at hand on days when the burdens of Guild Master grew overwhelming. “Master Serpent and young Kodyn await you in your office.”
Ilanna nodded and strode past him to the door of her office. Kodyn and Errik stood within, and one look at their faces told her they hadn’t brought good news.
“Damn!” Ilanna shook her head as she strode around her desk. “Nothing at all?”
Errik’s face drew into a tight frown. “A handful of Serpents and Hounds are still out searching, but I’m not hopeful.” He gestured to Kodyn. “Even with his help, we only tracked the trail of blood a few more paces until it disappeared.”
Ilanna bit back a curse and banged a fist on her desk. “We keep coming up empty-handed!” She told the two of what she’d learned from Daytin. “So all we have to do is find an aged manservant in one of the noble houses of Praamis.”
Errik snorted. “How hard could that be?”
Ilanna was about to retort when a knock sounded at the door. She recognized the strong, rhythmic tapping instantly.
“Come in, Ria.”
The Ghandian women pushed the door open and strode in, Aisha at her heels.
Aisha hesitated as she caught sight of Kodyn, but she managed to keep her composure and follow on her House Master’s heels. Ilanna stifled a smile as she saw Kodyn straighten, square his shoulders, and thrust his chest out ever so slightly like a preening peacock. He smiled at Aisha, but the dark-skinned girl’s eyes focused on Ilanna.
“Tell me you’ve got something good,” Ilanna said. “Tonight’s been filled with about as much good news as a wildfire in a library.”
“Then you’re about to love me even more than you do!” A dazzling smile split Ria’s beautiful face. She motioned for Aisha to step forward. “My apprentice here found something at The Flavored Delight, down near the docks. A girl, Tamarra—”
Just then, the door burst open and a young man raced into the room, wide-eyed and breathless. “Guild Master! W-We found him!”
All thoughts of snapping
angrily at the youth—a Fox, judging by his ragged clothing with its orange trim, barely thirteen or fourteen years old—fled from Ilanna’s mind.
“Where?” she demanded.
“In the sewer tunnels,” the Fox gasped, his face pale and sweat streaming down his face. “Tassat…sent me!”
“Tassat?” Errik was instantly alert. Tassat was one of his Serpent Journeymen. “What did he say?”
“The Hunter!” The young man shook his head. “The Hunter…of Voramis!”
An icy chill ran down Ilanna’s spine. Everyone knew the Hunter of Voramis by reputation—by reputation only, for no one had ever seen his face and lived. A peerless killer, ruthless in the execution of his targets, wielding a blade said to steal the very souls from his victims.
So what in the Keeper’s name is he doing in Praamis, and killing children? Then, the Fox’s words sank in.
“Tassat?” she demanded. “You say he sent you? With what message?”
The Fox wiped a hand across his brow. “To send every Serpent we have.”
Errik’s face went hard, and the expression sent another chill down Ilanna’s spine. No mistaking it, the Master of House Serpent, the Night Guild’s most proficient assassin, knew fear. And only a fool wouldn’t be afraid of facing a man said to be immortal, a killer that had plagued Voramis for more than thirty years.
By the Watcher, how the hell did this happen?
Errik turned to Ilanna, his posture stiff. “With your permission, Guild Master.”
“Go.” Ilanna nodded. She didn’t know what else to say—would this be the last time she saw her friend again?
Errik smiled and gave a little bow. “Thank you, Ilanna.” Everything he needed to say was held in those words and his expression. He nodded to Ria, clapped Kodyn on the shoulder, then strode from the room.
“Don’t even think about it!” Ilanna snapped at her son.
Kodyn had half-turned to follow Errik, but her words stopped him in his tracks. “You know I’m almost as good as any Serpent, Mom. If I can help—”
“No.” Ilanna’s tone was cold, hard as steel. “I am proud that my son is brave, but sometimes bravery is simply folly by another name. No good can come of you throwing yourself at the Hunter, not when all of House Serpent is there to deal with him.”
The question is, can they deal with him? Only the gods knew the answer to that question.
Kodyn stiffened, his face becoming an unreadable mask. “As you say, Guild Master.”
Ilanna hid a wince. He added that tight inflection to her title when he was furious.
“With your permission, Master Gold—” He drove the second barb home with a biting tone. “—I will return to the Hawk’s Highway and try to find Sid.”
“Sid?” Ilanna raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, find him?”
“I haven’t seen him since this morning.” Kodyn’s expression remained inscrutable, but a note of concern echoed in his voice. “None of the other Hawks have as well.”
“I’m certain he’s fine.” The words rang hollow—with the bloody Hunter of Voramis in her city, no one, not even King Ohilmos himself, was safe.
“Of course, Guild Master.” Kodyn gave a stiff bow, then turned and strode from the room.
Ilanna ground her teeth. Had Aisha not been in the room, she would have unleashed her frustration. But, with the young Phoenix apprentice present, she had to rein in her temper.
“Errik can handle it.” Ria’s tone was soothing, but Ilanna heard the doubt. “Not even the Hunter can defeat him.”
Ilanna wasn’t so sure, but she forced herself to nod. “Of course.” Her eyes darted to the wooden cabinet where she kept her slim sword and her collection of daggers.
“And don’t even think of doing anything as stupid as going yourself!” Fire burned in Ria’s eyes, and she stepped in front of Ilanna. “You’re the Guild Master, not a Hawk any longer, and certainly not a Serpent.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing!” A hint of Ilanna’s frustration burst through in her angry shout. “If it is the Watcher-damned Hunter of Voramis, it means someone with deep pockets is pissed at us. I’d say Duke Phonnis, but he’s too upright and sanctimonious to do anything like that!”
“Then listen to what Aisha has to say,” Ria pressed. “It might make things a good deal clearer.”
Biting back her frustration, Ilanna rounded on the young Ghandian woman. “Tell me,” she said through gritted teeth.
Aisha’s expression grew nervous, but to her credit, she didn’t flinch from Ilanna’s rage, simply stood taller in that same proud, defiant way Ria did. Ilanna felt a momentary flash of guilt—the girl didn’t deserve to be the target of her frustration.
She tried again in a more civil tone. “What have you found?”
“I found a girl at The Flavored Delight, Tamarra, who knew something of Chantelle’s whereabouts the night she disappeared.” Aisha spoke the language of Einan with only a hint of her native Ghandian accent echoing in her words. She, like the rest of those that had chosen to remain in Praamis and serve the Night Guild, had acclimated quickly. “Tamarra didn’t know how Chantelle left The Gilded Chateau unseen, but she did say that Chantelle mentioned where she was going.”
“Oh?” Ilanna cocked an eyebrow. Finally, some good news.
Aisha nodded. “Chantelle had begun seeing a nobleman in secret, earning coin without having to pay the Guild’s dues.”
Ilanna glanced at Ria, who shrugged. “First I’m hearing of it, though it’s not as uncommon as you’d think.”
Ilanna nodded. Not all the brothels in Praamis appreciated the Night Guild’s presence. The well-trained bouncers and enforcers were welcome, but many of the working girls still held out from paying the Guild tithes.
“Who was the nobleman?” Ilanna asked.
“Baronet Wyvern,” Aisha replied.
“Wyvern?” That took Ilanna by surprise. “The same Wyvern that Celesa had to deal with today?”
“The same. They’d fallen in love, evidently. ” Aisha stood straighter. “Though, given his presence at The Gilded Chateau, perhaps not as much as Chantelle believed. Either way, had we known of his dealings with Chantelle, he would not have walked away so easily, not without answering a few questions.”
Ilanna strode around her desk and sat in her armchair. “Baronet Wyvern taking up with Chantelle, but on the night she goes to visit him, she winds up dead. A coincidence?”
Ria leaned against the bookcase and ran her finger over one of the silver hawk figurines. “Perhaps, or perhaps not.”
“Do we know how Chantelle died?” Ilanna asked Ria. “Did we ever recover her body?”
Ria nodded. “Her throat was slashed, but her face bore those same strange burn marks as were discovered on that child’s body.”
Ilanna’s lips pursed into a frown as she went over the information in her mind.
“What if Baronet Wyvern blames us for her death?” she asked after a long moment. “If he found out about those burn marks, he might think we did that to her. To send a message to the other girls. If he truly was besotted with Chantelle, his rage could drive him to seek revenge. And what better way to get revenge than to hire the Hunter of Voramis to carry it out?”
Ria’s eyebrows shot up. “You think that’s possible?”
“It’s not as far-fetched as to imagine that the Hunter is going around Voramis murdering children for pleasure.” Ilanna shook her head. “From what I’ve heard of him, the Hunter doesn’t kill without getting paid. If Baronet Wyvern was feeling particularly vicious, he could have taken out a bounty on all of the Night Guild. From the youngest tyro to the Guild Master herself. That could be how Arashi ended up dead, and why the Hunter killed Kindan. The other child, the one found in Old Town Market, could have been mistaken for one of our apprentices. Or perhaps he was simply collateral.”
“And the poison?” Aisha spoke up.
“Is it impossible to think an assassin would coat his blade with something
that made the killing easier?” Ilanna asked. “Which could explain how he got the better of Kindan.” That was more wishful thinking than she cared to admit aloud. If that was the case, the Hunter wasn’t really as good as his legends proclaimed, so Errik and the Serpents had a chance of actually killing him.
“Baronet Wyvern certainly has pockets deep enough to buy the Flaming Tansy,” Ria said, “but to hire the Hunter of Voramis? That has to be a stretch even for him.”
“Perhaps.” Ilanna shrugged. “But I intend to ask him myself.” She strode over to the drawer and pulled out her Hawk gear.
“That won’t be necessary,” Ria said.
Ilanna glanced over her shoulder. “Oh?”
Ria fixed her with a smile. “I believe I have a much better way for you to speak with Baronet Wyvern.”
Something about the edge to Ria’s grin told Ilanna she really wasn’t going to like what the woman had in mind.
Chapter Sixteen
The Hunter had to admit the Guild assassin was good. Damned good. The man’s sword moved like a striking serpent, darting in to flick at the Hunter’s chest, then coming back for a riposte after the Hunter parried. The stiletto in his right hand, his off-hand, sought the holes in the Hunter’s guard and very nearly scored a strike that could have slowed the Hunter down.
Yet the man was merely human. The Hunter had faced and defeated demons, and the blood of demons flowed in his veins. No matter how skilled the assassin, unless he wielded iron or an Im’tasi weapon like Soulhunger, he stood no chance.
The Hunter slapped aside a quick thrust, twisted out of the path of a slash, and darted to the side to bind his blade with the assassin’s. In the instant that the assassin hesitated, the Hunter twisted his wrist so his sword glissaded along his opponent’s and struck flesh. He danced backward, out of the assassin’s reach, and showed the man the crimson staining its edge.
The man glanced down at the cut in the meat of his thigh, and winced. Not out of pain—adrenaline would diminish sensations while his heart hammered with the thrill of battle—but at the knowledge that the injury would slow him down. When facing a superior opponent, even the slightest disadvantage could turn deadly.
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