Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy), page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
Map of Niya-Yur: Duianna Continent
Map of Kingdom of Aelargo
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Cliffhangers
About The Author
A Personal Note from Leeland…
Lebuin’s Lexicon
Acknowledgments
Other Works BY Leeland Artra
THREAD SLIVERS
Book One of the Golden Threads Trilogy
by Leeland Artra
Thread Slivers: Book One of the Golden Threads Trilogy
Copyright © 2013 by Leeland Artra. All rights reserved.
First Kindle Edition: January 2013
Editor: Alexis Arendt, Kitten Jackson
Cover and Formatting: Streetlight Graphics
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my children Lewin & Sapphira: may you both always stay sharp; and to my beautiful wife Evelina for putting up with my late nights dreaming at the keyboard.
Map of Niya-Yur: Duianna Continent
Map of Kingdom of Aelargo
Chapter 1
Boots On the Ground
TICCA MOVED SLOWLY AND CAUTIOUSLY over the roof, making sure she stayed in the chimney’s long shadow as she inched towards it. She kept a watchful eye on the traffic in the street below. I can’t be spotted, or someone will try to kill me; and worse, I’ll miss Sula’s target. Her cloak had a little magic that helped her blend into the shadows, but she knew it didn’t make her invisible. It was a dangerous task to spy on these powerful people. But, she wanted to earn some respect as a Dagger, and Sula was her first big client. Ticca had managed to earn a solid reputation in a dozen or so small jobs before Sula, who had been using more senior Daggers, unexpectedly sat at her table. This was her fifth assignment for Sula, and she was earning a lot of respect and coin for her successes.
Her timing was perfect. She was in position, in the darkest crook of the chimney, as the sun started to touch the western horizon. Nervously, she scanned for any signs she had been spotted, moving into her vantage point. Everything was normal; it was business as usual for the merchants here in the Day Market. From underneath her cloak, she pulled the solid cylinder out and held it firmly in her left hand. Hopefully, that courier will be back.
As the darkness deepened, Ticca became the hunter; waiting, watching the traffic moving through the only known entrance to the market square. The majority of the more upstanding merchants had already locked up their wooden stalls and carted off as much as they could in their push carts, past the beautiful entry statue. Hands on their sword hilts, in their banded leather armor, the last three remaining city guards left for more respectable parts of the city. A few late shoppers moved about the remaining merchants, who were trying to evacuate the square before the sun finished setting. The Day Market was closed; this was about to become the Night Market.
A stout, confident man walked into the market wearing a dark, charcoal grey cloak. Ticca’s heart rate picked up with excitement as she recognized him as the hired assassin — or Knife, as they were called — that Sula had had her identify a few days earlier. What are you doing here personally? What have you been up to the last few days? She held her breath as the Knife scanned the market for someone, and then looked up at the roofs, his gaze passing over her. Not finding who he was looking for, he moved into a dark shadow by the wall and pulled his hood up over his head, blending very well into the shadow.
Ticca stared intently, trying to find his outline. Damn it, don’t lose him now. If he is here, then the courier isn’t coming. She considered leaving, but her instincts were telling her to stay. This might be important to Sula. Maybe worth a bonus.
She couldn’t make out if he was still where she last saw him. She had to decide if she should move to a new position to try and locate him. From where he was, he can see the entrance and me, if I’m not careful. I know he won’t take kindly to seeing someone on this roof. He probably won’t move far. He wants to meet someone. She started taking careful tally of the rest of the square’s occupants in her mind, thankful she’d picked a location to both remain unseen, and yet, be able to view the majority of the square. The courier she was expecting still had not arrived, and she kept her attention primarily focused on watching for the Knife to move. In her peripheral vision, she saw the odd twilight shift of the statue, signaling that the Night Market was in business.
When Sula’s first mission for Ticca had brought her here to the Night Market, that statue had seemed so out of place, it shocked her. During the day, it was an amazingly good portrayal of a young elven lass, shopping basket hung loosely on her left arm, her right arm lifting ever-so-slightly in friendly greeting, and a warm, expressive smile, welcoming market visitors.
It was the kind of statue only the wealthiest could dream of commissioning for their estates. Yet here, it sat in the middle of the only entrance to a medium-sized, dead-end square, just inside the lower area of town, which had been a market for as long as anyone could remember.
The night patrons began to arrive slowly, and the evening’s dealers materialized from the darkened alleys, moving past the statue to enter the square quickly. People in long, expensive rain capes mixed easily with dock workers in their dingy clothes and thick coats. Everyone pulled coats, capes, and collars tight; more to avoid too much exposure to each other, than to keep the rain out.
Watching the deals for the past few nights had given Ticca a good idea of the basic rules of engagement here. Once the sun had set, the market was too dangerous for honest city guards. This was the legendary Night Market, which she had heard tales of long before she came to the city. She’d thought its reputation for having drug dealers, pawn brokers, and facilitators of any act, was exaggerated. But the merchants, or ‘Hands,’ as they like to be called, really lived up to that reputation. She shuddered as she remembered some of the breath-taking and brutal things she had witnessed passing through here; the worst, being a bag of what she was sure were fresh body parts. I would like it if this place shut down, but as my Uncle says, ‘People will always be capable of evil, and some will always choose to be evil.’ Maybe containment here really does keep it in check.
A dignified Hand who dealt in secrets, and a regular visitor to the Night Market, strolled past the statue. The stone figure now held its basket tight, eyes wide with fear and warning, right hand held up, as if to warn visitors of the danger within. She still didn’t understand why they bothered to put that statue there, but it did make a good signal for whether or not it was safe to enter.
The shadow she had been watching split in two, with the real shadow seeming to reluctantly release its twin. That’s a neat trick you didn’t have last time. The Knife kept the hood up and drifted gracefully to intercept the newest arrival. They met, like all the others, a safe distance from everyone else, and started negotiating. It did not take long before the Knife passed a small package to the Hand, who put it in his coat.
Even in the rain-cloaked night, she could clearly see the small package was tied with a glinting golden thread. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the implications. Sula mentioned there might be something tied with gold. He is the contact Sula wants identified. The Knife didn’t use the courier; he brought it himself. That has to be unique. She smiled, knowing she had succeeded again. One week, and I have found the Hand.
When the Hand’s fingers came out of the coat, they passed over the Knife’s palm, dropping a small bag that vanished instantly. Probably going to waste that coin on something stronger than hyly at a Red-Door. No matter, I have my quarry.
The deal done, the Knife drifted off to the left. She didn’t bother to watch; her attention was fixed on her new target, the Hand. Be sure, Ticca; be real sure you can pick him out again, she cautioned herself.
Once she had his walk, shape, and features down, it was time for the odd part. Under her cloak, her left hand squeezed hard on the small, solid metal tube it held. Although physically impossible the solid tube became slightly smaller activating the spell. She felt the small tingle of released magic flow up her arm. It wasn’t unpleasant, but she was glad she had been warned; otherwise, she might have looked down at her hands, which could have been disastrous. Trying to ignore the sensation, she kept her eyes locked on the Hand, as if her very life depended on it, which it likely did. The spell mo
After the spell was released, Ticca didn’t wait to see the result. She reached back, grabbed the top of the roof line, and levered herself over the top, staying low and not allowing her own cloaks to flutter. Once over and out of sight from the market, she hurried until she was a few streets away. Checking that she had not been spotted or followed, she lowered herself, unseen, into another small alley. Rapidly, she stripped off her thin, outer cloak and folded it into a tight bundle. The evening chill instantly began to bite through her normal cape, which had been hidden underneath. She carefully placed the folded cloak into her secure satchel, in the chain-lined pocket. Again, she marveled that a full cloak could become such a small package of cloth, that it easily fit inside one of her hands.
Now all I need to do is report to Sula, as instructed, that I can identify the Hand. Maybe tomorrow, I can start tracking him. Flipping her cape collar into a more respectable position, she pulled the hood out slightly over her head to keep off some of the rain, and stepped boldly out into the lamp-lit road. No longer wrapped in her hunter’s mindset, she allowed herself to contemplate recent events. Turning east, she started walking towards the docks. Her destination wasn’t too far; after all, Llino was built around its docks.
From listening to her uncle’s Dagger stories, Ticca knew Llino was about as interesting a place as any in the world to be. The Three Princes, who jointly ruled the kingdom, kept it tightly under control, just as their massive fleet kept the sea lanes and trade routes under control. Being a pirate was very hard work, and being a shipping merchant was equally hard, especially if your ships happened to be near a Three Princes’ ship without the proper tariffs paid. With hundreds of patrol ships and no other navy to contend with, the Three Princes ruled the waterways and demanded a high tax on everything flowing. Of course, the fact that your goods were well protected generally made it worthwhile. Llino, being at nearly the center of all the major empires with sea trade, was a natural stop and central trading location.
As she passed the white arches of The Wizards’ Guildhouse, she unconsciously shied to the far side of the street, as nearly everyone did. It never paid to be too close to a wizard. Ticca had never met a wizard she could call ‘nice,’ and stories of sudden executions by offended wizards made the unspoken rule of the common folk to give all wizards a comfortable space just sound thinking. Still, the building was beautiful to look at. Somehow, it was always visible, no matter the weather or light. Yet, it didn’t actually glow. If it had, she would have spotted the motion from the alley’s shadow, a moment sooner.
A strong hand closed hard on her throat, choking off any chance of calling for help. The attacker’s other hand didn’t waste time either; it grabbed her arm through the cloak and threw her deep into the alley. Ticca landed face first on the dirty, uneven cobblestones. A pain shot through her left side as the air and rational thought were momentarily knocked from her. Gasping for breath, she tried to move. She realized her right arm was being held twisted behind and so far upwards, she felt like her shoulder was about to be dislocated from the strain.
Her attacker was fast. He reversed his stance, never letting go of her right arm, as he jammed it painfully higher. He dropped one knee into the center of her back, putting his full weight down and preventing her from being able to take in a much-needed breath. All she could manage was a small squeak of pain.
“Who are you working for, missy?”
Ticca marveled for a moment at the oddly beautiful sound of that soft whisper.
“You tossed a spell from your perch. What was it?”
She heard the sound of glass tinkling. Fear, adrenaline, and years of training finally took over. Somehow, Ticca knew the elixir being pulled was deadly. With fear-fueled strength, she braced her right foot for leverage, and kicked her left foot up towards the back of her head. A crunching sound ripped the air as her foot hit something that gave in slightly, before she made full contact with her attacker’s body. He fell forward, letting go of her arm, as a small glass vial bounced away on the cobblestones.
I might as well make this look good, she thought. Swinging her right foot up to join the left over her head, she moved her freed arm to the ground, and completed the reverse roll by pushing with her arms, and rolling to her feet in a maneuver that would have made her trainer smile.
The attacker rolled away and started to stand. Noticing the telltale movements that he was pulling a weapon, she considered the small knives in her belt. It’s him or me. I don’t think I can beat him in a knife fight with this pain in my arm. ‘Action is better than reaction,’ her trainer’s voice said in her memory.
Her moment of surprise was slipping away—time was essential and short. Need to end this now. Have to use my right arm for the hook, because it’s hurting too much to brace with. Damn, this is going to hurt, but at least, it’ll hurt him more than me.
Grimacing against the coming pain, she jumped over her attacker, kicking off to spin as she launched. Her combat-trained body automatically followed through with a twist in the air, to land with her right arm looped around the man’s neck. She slid down his back, locking her right arm with her left. Just as she felt the pull on her arm, she twisted hard in the opposite direction with her weight leveraging against his body. As she tightened her arm ripples of sharp pain shot through her back and neck from the shoulder. Ticca clamped her mouth shut to keep from screaming out. Her momentum was arrested with a loud crack from the man’s neck.
His body jerked, and she thought she heard a hiss of surprise as they fell in a pile. Her nose confirmed he was dead a moment later. Her right arm and shoulder screamed with pain, her back hurt, and she was sure she was bruised over the majority of her body. But he was dead, and she wasn’t — in short, the best outcome possible.
Damn it, how did he spot me? She swallowed hard a few times to get control of her emotions and thoughts. Lady, he was going to kill me, wasn’t he? Looking over the first person she had ever killed, her heart raced and her hands shook uncontrollably. She wiped her hands on her pants as she breathed deeply, trying to find some balance. She looked at his tanned, rough-shaven face. Except for the angle of his neck, he looked like he was sleeping. It was definitely the Knife she had just spied on. I should get away from here fast. But first, I might need some clues as to who exactly he was, and he surely won’t need his gear anymore.
Making sure that no one was watching, she grabbed his boots and dragged him deeper into the alley. Once a reasonable distance from the street, she started checking him for valuables. The boots felt like some of the finest leather she had ever touched, so she pulled them off and tucked them under her cloak first. She noticed that one of the two pouches smelled awful and was soaked in something that fumed, with wispy smoke tails curling to the sky. She realized that it must have been holding more elixirs, and she had broken them when she kicked him. Ignoring the smoking pouch, she took the other one, and the belt it was attached to, as it also had a few knives and a short sword. He didn’t have anything else on him.
Ticca inched towards the alley entrance. I know it has only been a few minutes since he grabbed me, but it feels like it has been a whole mark, and his neck breaking was pretty loud. Why is the guard never there to help, but always to arrest? Her thoughts raced over the events as she passed the point where they had fought. On the ground, was a small glass vial. Picking it up carefully, she turned it over, inspecting the seal. The seal was tight, and there was a semi-clear, brownish liquid inside. This might be something interesting for later, she thought, as she slipped it into her own belt pouch. Thankfully, the shiny wet street was still not busy; no one was close by. No longer feeling the cold, and with a quick glance to insure no one was looking her way, she stepped out and continued on her original path in a confident walk.
