The Crimson Spark, page 21
part #1 of Vagabond Legacy Series
The boat finally came to a stop, but she couldn’t see how high they were. The next thing she knew she was being pulled from the boat, slung over someone’s shoulder and carried down a flight of stairs.
“More trouble than anything this one,” said the man carrying her.
“It’s over now though,” said another, yawning. “About bloody time too.”
“How long you been active?”
“Three months. And you lot?”
“Three,” replied the man carrying her.
“Two,” said another. “Can’t wait to get a drink.”
As they walked the Briars began to break off, making for their cabins she supposed.
“Alright boys,” said a voice Nea recognized. “On your way, I’ll take this one from here.”
She was deposited on her feet, standing proving a difficult task at that moment. She stumbled, ready to collapse but a strong arm held her firm. “Have a drink for me, would you?”
“Yes sir!” said the last of the Briars, their voices sounding farther away.
“Damn it all Nea, what am I to do with you?” said Quinnel, removing the blindfold and gag. Nea breathed a sigh of relief at the freedom but didn’t move, she kept staring at him, unsure of what to do. His pale face and silver hair were unmistakable along with those gigantic blue eyes. Though, he was covered in bruises and cuts, his arm in a sling.
“Welcome to headquarters,” said Quinnel unbinding her hands.
Nea took in her surroundings. She was inside the great wooden leviathan now. A huge cavern of a hull full of ropes and bridges and walkways. They were standing on one of these, a walkway connecting the cabins and the main stairways. Farther below she could see the working men, amid a mess of machines that she didn’t recognize, but that looked far too heavy to float. She saw a man hop onto a pole and slide his way down from his cabin to the bowels of the ship. There were many of these poles, as well as a good many lifts, fast way up, fast way down. There were even tubes through which she could see men shouting messages into the depths, the chain of command persisting regardless of distance.
The interior of the ship was kept lit by a series of mounted lanterns, though there wasn’t any fire burning, just bright orange gemstones that hummed with a supernatural glow. The same glow she’d seen coming from the windows.
Nea wondered if this monster could fight; if it could the Royal Navy hadn’t a prayer. What a sight this thing would be looming across the harbor at Equius.
Whole damn army might just surrender then and there.
Quinnel kept his hand pressed to the small of her back, urging her forward. He was still glaring at her. “You know I didn’t give you that clue in Limani so that you could turn us in to the Royal Guard.”
Nea had no idea what to say. It was a lot to deal with all at once, but the one thing on her mind was truly just, “Is Cain…”
“No idea,” he scowled. “No body, we made sure that whole field went up in flames. So be proud of that if you like. I’m disappointed, I misjudged you.”
Nea shrugged. “It wasn’t personal, she offered me a way out and I took it.”
“We offered you a way out,” said Quinnel. “And you turn around and try to sell us out.”
She glared back at him. “Doesn’t matter now does it. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were supposed to be looking for Leo.”
Quinnel’s face darkened. “I was. I’ve been reassigned. Got back here about a week ago.”
Nea looked him up and down, taking in his injuries. “Reassigned?”
This time it was Quinnel’s turn to glare at her. “Your little friend is slippery, latched himself to a vagabond.”
Leo?
Nea had a difficult time imagining the sick boy with the bad arm dressed in the regalia of the vagabonds, but so long as he was safe. “Is he hurt? You said you wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Of course not, what you and the boy still fail to understand is that we’re not your enemies.”
“Well that’s a damn shame, because you sure as hell are mine.”
“Why’s that?”
“You tried to hurt Cain.”
“She wouldn’t have been in that position if it wasn’t for your little deal.”
Nea scowled. “I needed to escape.”
“And I presented to you an avenue for just that. Instead you kill my men. Want to go by their cabins, tell their wives, their children?”
“Don’t try to guilt me,” she spat.
“A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss. You’d be belly up in the ocean if it wasn’t for me. I set you on the trail, you’re my responsibility. And Mister Beljhar thinks you’re too clever to kill.”
“He’s going to regret that.”
“Very frightening. I’m sure he will throw down his sword the moment he sees what a terrible adversary he’s acquired.” Quinnel stopped and opened the door to one of the cabins. He gave Nea a shove inside. “This one’s yours.”
A pair of twin beds were lined up against a tiny window, out of which hardly anything could be seen. It was warm, lit by another glowing gemstone, mounted on the wall. It was inviting; Nea didn’t trust it for a moment.
“Where are my things?”
“Safe,” said Quinnel with a yawn. “I’ll see that they get back to you, don’t worry and please don’t keep scowling at me like that. There’s some food on the dresser over there. Eat something and rest, you’ve got a nasty lump on your head.” With that, he was gone, the lock clicking behind him. Nea checked the door; indeed it wouldn’t open. She slumped down on one of the beds, grimacing at the ceiling. The cabin was warm, inviting, and her bed was soft. But she took no comfort in any of this; she was a prisoner again.
32
The Ferryman
Though his experience of cities was limited, Leo could tell from the outset that there was something strange about the town of Raeva. As they strode down the muddy road, the city wall appeared atop a hill through the trees. It had been fashioned from a thousand different types of wood, bound together then carved and painted with thousands of symbols and letters that covered the entire wall.
The streets sprawled about every which way like the web of a forgetful spider, and the houses had no consistent size or shape. The passersby wore thick coats and cloaks despite the heat: long robes, full pelts complete with teeth, or little to no clothing at all. The smell of spice and gin filled the air and the morning was full of buzzing talk.
Leo was so busy trying to absorb the atmosphere that he almost didn’t notice the man sitting cross-legged on an old rug on the side of the street. A small crowd stood by to watch as he passed, what looked like, a flame back and forth between his hands. With a flick of his wrists the fire grew, then morphed into the shape of a flower, before exploding out in all directions. People screamed and covered their heads only to laugh in surprise as a host of tiny flaming flowers burned above.
“What…” Leo started to ask Seiyariu, but his mentor was already striding past the performer.
As they went deeper into the city, more and more of these people appeared. For every peddler and craftsmen there was at least two of these mysterious manipulators. Some tossed fire, some caused plants to grow into the shapes of men, and a few were making shadows dance against the walls.
Seiyariu just grinned at the performers and dodged passing carriages. Leo made to follow him when something slimy, wet, and enormous walked right past him. Leo yelped and fell back in the mud as the great lizard trotted by. It was the size of a pony, complete with a saddle and a rider, who shot Leo a look of puzzled amusement as he led his mount down the street.
“Who are these people?” asked Leo, scrambling over to Seiyariu’s side.
Seiyariu laughed. “Surely you’ve heard of delving?”
“Delving?” He had heard of delving.
Stories of delvers had been in all of the epics that Leo had pored over back in his days in the abbey. For every hero, knight or monster there was a delver to match. They were said to have the power to reach into the very essence of nature itself and change what they wished. He’d always thought them flights of fancy on the part of the storyteller, but now that he was here, staring at them all around, there were no words to describe his astonished joy.
“This is a true city of Delvers, one of the last places in which men can commune with nature so freely.”
“How does it work?” he asked, scurrying after Seiyariu. Shooting a glance at a man recreating famous sculptures with the smoke from his on-lookers’ pipes.
“I’m no expert, try asking one of them.”
Leo decided against this, and instead hovered behind Seiyariu as he chatted amiably with a street vendor. The vendor’s cart was unassuming at first, but upon further inspection, Leo saw a Peregrine Rune shaped like a tongue, and another like a coin. Loose talker for the right price.
“Finest fabrics this side o’ the green sea my friends, nobody beats my prices, not a soul.”
“I’m afraid we’ve no space for fabrics, are you selling anything else? Information perhaps?”
The vendor gave Seiyiariu a searching look. “I might be. Depends what ye might be wanting to know.”
“I’ll be blunt.” Seiyariu’s eyes shot back and forth then refocused on the merchant. “We’re going to Adis, we need a guide. Do you know anyone who has dealings in the area?”
“Aye,” said the vendor rubbing his neck. “But them’s not the sorts you’d want dealings with.”
“What do you mean by that.”
“Well, that lot. They’re odd.”
Seiyariu grinned, “I’m sure we’ll get along. I’m rather odd myself.”
The vendor laughed. “Not around these parts you’re not vagabond.”
Seiyariu produced a coin as if from nowhere and tossed it to the man. “Where would I find these exceptionally odd folk?”
“Loudest one spends most of his time at the Oculus, that’s the tavern just down the way. Take this road until you reach Medici’s then it’ll be on the side street there. Strange bastard this one, goes by Pluto, though Lord knows if that’s his real name. You’ll know him when you see him.”
Seiyariu nodded. “Your words,” he drew out two more coins, “and your silence.” Then with a swish of his cloak he was off, Leo at his side.
*
The Oculus immediately stood out from the rest of the buildings, even in a town like this. It was jet black and the entire outside of the pub had been painted with colored eyeballs whose gaze, by some trick of the light, seemed to follow whomever walked by. The inside was as dark as the outside, black walls, black tables, black counter, black clothes. Only a few candles burned, and the air hung heavy with smoke. Unlike the streets outside, the Oculus was deathly silent. There were only six patrons. One sat at the bar, seemingly asleep. Another was locked in a game of cards with his friend, while a fourth man stood and watched. The bartender himself, made five, not even glancing up as they entered. As for the sixth man, when Leo saw him, there was no doubt in his mind that this was who they were looking for.
He sat apart from the rest of the patrons, hanging like a ghost near the corner. A mop of matted grey and black hair hung around his face, which was smooth and free of lines making his age impossible to guess. He wore a tattered collection of black fabric in a state of such disrepair that the original shape had long been lost. These garments would occasionally flutter and bulge, emitting strange sounds, as if there was something underneath. His pale fingers were wrapped around a black wooden staff and his head hung low.
Without hesitating Seiyariu approached his table. The man’s head instantly shot up, and Leo jumped. A thick black bandage had been bound across his eyes. He was blind.
“Mister Pluto?” Seiyariu asked, not flinching at this.
“Mister Seiyariu?” The man’s voice was slow, with odd pauses between words.
How does he know his name?
Seiyariu took a seat without being invited and Leo followed. “Have we met?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’ll forgive me, it’s not often I’m recognized by a blind man.”
“I’m sure you’ve encountered stranger things, vagabond.”
That sent a chill down Leo’s spine but Seiyariu maintained his composure.
“Very well then, I’ll not pry.”
“That’s good of you.” Pluto shifted in his seat, bored. “So then, tell me what brings the famous Seiyariu to this filthy place, filthy company perhaps?” His thin lips curled in the suggestion of a smile.
Leo glanced at the vagabond out of the corner of his eye. Famous? Seiyariu?
“We need a ferryman, to take us through Adis.”
“Of course you do.” Pluto sighed. “You’ve certainly found the right man, not a thing goes on in that place that I am not aware of. Where in Adis, exactly?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Seiyariu replied. “We seek an artifact of some power that was… misplaced.”
“The Tomb of the Cupbearer.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s a chamber, one of the deepest in the entire city. Over the past few months, people have been in and out of there, stashing strange trinkets from all across Fortuna.”
“I see.”
“I must ask.” Pluto leaned in, whispering. “Does Djeng Beljhar know you plan to steal from him?”
Leo sat bolt upright. “Djeng Belj” Seiyariu put a hand on his shoulder to silence him. Leo’s mind was racing and he frantically tried to catch Seiyariu’s eye. Beljhar? The Beljhar, the one who was looking for him? He’d been the one to take Seiyariu’s mysterious Knail? Why had the vagabond not said anything? Had he truly not known?
“You mean the leader of The Black Briars?” Seiyariu raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t play dumb, it’s unbecoming.”
“You give me too much credit, I know of the man, but I am surprised to hear it is his hand in all of this.”
“Oh? How interesting.”
“And what would the Black Briars be doing with all of these trinkets?” Seiyariu asked, pointedly. “I wasn’t under the impression they were collectors.”
“I couldn’t tell you vagabond,” said Pluto. “But if your treasure has gone missing, that is where it will be.”
“Will you take us?”
“Willing to throw your trust onto a stranger? This artifact of yours must be very important.”
“More than you know.”
“I doubt that.” Pluto sat up a little straighter and rested his elbow on the table. “Tell me, what is the name of this artifact you are seeking.”
“Is that necessary?”
“No, but when you pay for my services the questions come with them.”
Seiyariu paused, thinking about this for a moment. “And how much would it cost for you to take us there with no questions at all?”
“More than you can—”
Seiyariu tossed a bag of coins on the table before Pluto got the words out. Leo blinked in confusion, he’d never seen Seiyariu carrying this before. Where had it come from?
“There’s half.”
Pluto inspected the bag, “I believe we have a deal. But I must ask, will this stripling be accompanying us?” He gestured at Leo, unseeing.
“This stripling is my student, and yes he will be accompanying us. He can handle himself, don’t worry.”
“Most people say that, often it turns out they can’t. But for this much I suppose I’ll take your word for it. You’ve hired yourself a boatman to take you to hell, vagabond.” He grinned at Leo. “Take care not to fall overboard.”
33
The Briar Patch
Nea lay back on her bed and stared for what felt like the thousandth time out her window at the dreary cloud of nothing beyond. The fog never faded, not offering even a glimpse of the sea or sky to sate her restless mind. The reflection of light through the soupy fog suggested it was midday.
Not for the first time in her life, she imagined that she could fly, leave the world, leave her body behind and soar without a care, without fear, without pain. Nea remembered being a little girl and watching birds, always jealous of how simple it was for them.
What was it all for?
She’d asked herself this question time and time again, ever since she’d saved Leo half a lifetime ago. If she hadn’t helped him get away she wouldn’t be in this mess. That memory of his haunted stare, his scared little face, she couldn’t escape it. Every time it came to her, it was accompanied by the image of Cain pinned under her horse, left to die. She’d saved them. Both of them, and both times it had cost her her freedom. Nea had worked so hard. She had broken herself out of Glatman, fought and killed to survive in the wilderness. All to escape and find a new life. Why was it then, that she was so quick to throw it away for people she barely even knew?
She felt the cold draft before anything else. With an entirely unnecessary knock, Quinnel let himself in.
“You forget you locked it?” Nea asked not looking at him.
“Force of habit,” he said gruffly.
“Well piss off then, make that a habit.”
“Shut up, I’m not exactly thrilled to be your babysitter.” He sat on the other bed, spinning his daggers like a bored cat.
“That’s really what they’ve got you doing?” She raised an eyebrow. “The left hand of Djeng Beljhar and all that rubbish?”
He scowled. “It’s better than I deserve. Mister Beljhar says that the task has been given to other operatives.”
“He replaced you.”
“You’re a shit, you know that? Do you want to sit here staring out the window all day? I thought I might show you around.”
“Why?” she asked, eyes narrowed. “I thought I was a prisoner.”
“More trouble than anything this one,” said the man carrying her.
“It’s over now though,” said another, yawning. “About bloody time too.”
“How long you been active?”
“Three months. And you lot?”
“Three,” replied the man carrying her.
“Two,” said another. “Can’t wait to get a drink.”
As they walked the Briars began to break off, making for their cabins she supposed.
“Alright boys,” said a voice Nea recognized. “On your way, I’ll take this one from here.”
She was deposited on her feet, standing proving a difficult task at that moment. She stumbled, ready to collapse but a strong arm held her firm. “Have a drink for me, would you?”
“Yes sir!” said the last of the Briars, their voices sounding farther away.
“Damn it all Nea, what am I to do with you?” said Quinnel, removing the blindfold and gag. Nea breathed a sigh of relief at the freedom but didn’t move, she kept staring at him, unsure of what to do. His pale face and silver hair were unmistakable along with those gigantic blue eyes. Though, he was covered in bruises and cuts, his arm in a sling.
“Welcome to headquarters,” said Quinnel unbinding her hands.
Nea took in her surroundings. She was inside the great wooden leviathan now. A huge cavern of a hull full of ropes and bridges and walkways. They were standing on one of these, a walkway connecting the cabins and the main stairways. Farther below she could see the working men, amid a mess of machines that she didn’t recognize, but that looked far too heavy to float. She saw a man hop onto a pole and slide his way down from his cabin to the bowels of the ship. There were many of these poles, as well as a good many lifts, fast way up, fast way down. There were even tubes through which she could see men shouting messages into the depths, the chain of command persisting regardless of distance.
The interior of the ship was kept lit by a series of mounted lanterns, though there wasn’t any fire burning, just bright orange gemstones that hummed with a supernatural glow. The same glow she’d seen coming from the windows.
Nea wondered if this monster could fight; if it could the Royal Navy hadn’t a prayer. What a sight this thing would be looming across the harbor at Equius.
Whole damn army might just surrender then and there.
Quinnel kept his hand pressed to the small of her back, urging her forward. He was still glaring at her. “You know I didn’t give you that clue in Limani so that you could turn us in to the Royal Guard.”
Nea had no idea what to say. It was a lot to deal with all at once, but the one thing on her mind was truly just, “Is Cain…”
“No idea,” he scowled. “No body, we made sure that whole field went up in flames. So be proud of that if you like. I’m disappointed, I misjudged you.”
Nea shrugged. “It wasn’t personal, she offered me a way out and I took it.”
“We offered you a way out,” said Quinnel. “And you turn around and try to sell us out.”
She glared back at him. “Doesn’t matter now does it. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were supposed to be looking for Leo.”
Quinnel’s face darkened. “I was. I’ve been reassigned. Got back here about a week ago.”
Nea looked him up and down, taking in his injuries. “Reassigned?”
This time it was Quinnel’s turn to glare at her. “Your little friend is slippery, latched himself to a vagabond.”
Leo?
Nea had a difficult time imagining the sick boy with the bad arm dressed in the regalia of the vagabonds, but so long as he was safe. “Is he hurt? You said you wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Of course not, what you and the boy still fail to understand is that we’re not your enemies.”
“Well that’s a damn shame, because you sure as hell are mine.”
“Why’s that?”
“You tried to hurt Cain.”
“She wouldn’t have been in that position if it wasn’t for your little deal.”
Nea scowled. “I needed to escape.”
“And I presented to you an avenue for just that. Instead you kill my men. Want to go by their cabins, tell their wives, their children?”
“Don’t try to guilt me,” she spat.
“A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss. You’d be belly up in the ocean if it wasn’t for me. I set you on the trail, you’re my responsibility. And Mister Beljhar thinks you’re too clever to kill.”
“He’s going to regret that.”
“Very frightening. I’m sure he will throw down his sword the moment he sees what a terrible adversary he’s acquired.” Quinnel stopped and opened the door to one of the cabins. He gave Nea a shove inside. “This one’s yours.”
A pair of twin beds were lined up against a tiny window, out of which hardly anything could be seen. It was warm, lit by another glowing gemstone, mounted on the wall. It was inviting; Nea didn’t trust it for a moment.
“Where are my things?”
“Safe,” said Quinnel with a yawn. “I’ll see that they get back to you, don’t worry and please don’t keep scowling at me like that. There’s some food on the dresser over there. Eat something and rest, you’ve got a nasty lump on your head.” With that, he was gone, the lock clicking behind him. Nea checked the door; indeed it wouldn’t open. She slumped down on one of the beds, grimacing at the ceiling. The cabin was warm, inviting, and her bed was soft. But she took no comfort in any of this; she was a prisoner again.
32
The Ferryman
Though his experience of cities was limited, Leo could tell from the outset that there was something strange about the town of Raeva. As they strode down the muddy road, the city wall appeared atop a hill through the trees. It had been fashioned from a thousand different types of wood, bound together then carved and painted with thousands of symbols and letters that covered the entire wall.
The streets sprawled about every which way like the web of a forgetful spider, and the houses had no consistent size or shape. The passersby wore thick coats and cloaks despite the heat: long robes, full pelts complete with teeth, or little to no clothing at all. The smell of spice and gin filled the air and the morning was full of buzzing talk.
Leo was so busy trying to absorb the atmosphere that he almost didn’t notice the man sitting cross-legged on an old rug on the side of the street. A small crowd stood by to watch as he passed, what looked like, a flame back and forth between his hands. With a flick of his wrists the fire grew, then morphed into the shape of a flower, before exploding out in all directions. People screamed and covered their heads only to laugh in surprise as a host of tiny flaming flowers burned above.
“What…” Leo started to ask Seiyariu, but his mentor was already striding past the performer.
As they went deeper into the city, more and more of these people appeared. For every peddler and craftsmen there was at least two of these mysterious manipulators. Some tossed fire, some caused plants to grow into the shapes of men, and a few were making shadows dance against the walls.
Seiyariu just grinned at the performers and dodged passing carriages. Leo made to follow him when something slimy, wet, and enormous walked right past him. Leo yelped and fell back in the mud as the great lizard trotted by. It was the size of a pony, complete with a saddle and a rider, who shot Leo a look of puzzled amusement as he led his mount down the street.
“Who are these people?” asked Leo, scrambling over to Seiyariu’s side.
Seiyariu laughed. “Surely you’ve heard of delving?”
“Delving?” He had heard of delving.
Stories of delvers had been in all of the epics that Leo had pored over back in his days in the abbey. For every hero, knight or monster there was a delver to match. They were said to have the power to reach into the very essence of nature itself and change what they wished. He’d always thought them flights of fancy on the part of the storyteller, but now that he was here, staring at them all around, there were no words to describe his astonished joy.
“This is a true city of Delvers, one of the last places in which men can commune with nature so freely.”
“How does it work?” he asked, scurrying after Seiyariu. Shooting a glance at a man recreating famous sculptures with the smoke from his on-lookers’ pipes.
“I’m no expert, try asking one of them.”
Leo decided against this, and instead hovered behind Seiyariu as he chatted amiably with a street vendor. The vendor’s cart was unassuming at first, but upon further inspection, Leo saw a Peregrine Rune shaped like a tongue, and another like a coin. Loose talker for the right price.
“Finest fabrics this side o’ the green sea my friends, nobody beats my prices, not a soul.”
“I’m afraid we’ve no space for fabrics, are you selling anything else? Information perhaps?”
The vendor gave Seiyiariu a searching look. “I might be. Depends what ye might be wanting to know.”
“I’ll be blunt.” Seiyariu’s eyes shot back and forth then refocused on the merchant. “We’re going to Adis, we need a guide. Do you know anyone who has dealings in the area?”
“Aye,” said the vendor rubbing his neck. “But them’s not the sorts you’d want dealings with.”
“What do you mean by that.”
“Well, that lot. They’re odd.”
Seiyariu grinned, “I’m sure we’ll get along. I’m rather odd myself.”
The vendor laughed. “Not around these parts you’re not vagabond.”
Seiyariu produced a coin as if from nowhere and tossed it to the man. “Where would I find these exceptionally odd folk?”
“Loudest one spends most of his time at the Oculus, that’s the tavern just down the way. Take this road until you reach Medici’s then it’ll be on the side street there. Strange bastard this one, goes by Pluto, though Lord knows if that’s his real name. You’ll know him when you see him.”
Seiyariu nodded. “Your words,” he drew out two more coins, “and your silence.” Then with a swish of his cloak he was off, Leo at his side.
*
The Oculus immediately stood out from the rest of the buildings, even in a town like this. It was jet black and the entire outside of the pub had been painted with colored eyeballs whose gaze, by some trick of the light, seemed to follow whomever walked by. The inside was as dark as the outside, black walls, black tables, black counter, black clothes. Only a few candles burned, and the air hung heavy with smoke. Unlike the streets outside, the Oculus was deathly silent. There were only six patrons. One sat at the bar, seemingly asleep. Another was locked in a game of cards with his friend, while a fourth man stood and watched. The bartender himself, made five, not even glancing up as they entered. As for the sixth man, when Leo saw him, there was no doubt in his mind that this was who they were looking for.
He sat apart from the rest of the patrons, hanging like a ghost near the corner. A mop of matted grey and black hair hung around his face, which was smooth and free of lines making his age impossible to guess. He wore a tattered collection of black fabric in a state of such disrepair that the original shape had long been lost. These garments would occasionally flutter and bulge, emitting strange sounds, as if there was something underneath. His pale fingers were wrapped around a black wooden staff and his head hung low.
Without hesitating Seiyariu approached his table. The man’s head instantly shot up, and Leo jumped. A thick black bandage had been bound across his eyes. He was blind.
“Mister Pluto?” Seiyariu asked, not flinching at this.
“Mister Seiyariu?” The man’s voice was slow, with odd pauses between words.
How does he know his name?
Seiyariu took a seat without being invited and Leo followed. “Have we met?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’ll forgive me, it’s not often I’m recognized by a blind man.”
“I’m sure you’ve encountered stranger things, vagabond.”
That sent a chill down Leo’s spine but Seiyariu maintained his composure.
“Very well then, I’ll not pry.”
“That’s good of you.” Pluto shifted in his seat, bored. “So then, tell me what brings the famous Seiyariu to this filthy place, filthy company perhaps?” His thin lips curled in the suggestion of a smile.
Leo glanced at the vagabond out of the corner of his eye. Famous? Seiyariu?
“We need a ferryman, to take us through Adis.”
“Of course you do.” Pluto sighed. “You’ve certainly found the right man, not a thing goes on in that place that I am not aware of. Where in Adis, exactly?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Seiyariu replied. “We seek an artifact of some power that was… misplaced.”
“The Tomb of the Cupbearer.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s a chamber, one of the deepest in the entire city. Over the past few months, people have been in and out of there, stashing strange trinkets from all across Fortuna.”
“I see.”
“I must ask.” Pluto leaned in, whispering. “Does Djeng Beljhar know you plan to steal from him?”
Leo sat bolt upright. “Djeng Belj” Seiyariu put a hand on his shoulder to silence him. Leo’s mind was racing and he frantically tried to catch Seiyariu’s eye. Beljhar? The Beljhar, the one who was looking for him? He’d been the one to take Seiyariu’s mysterious Knail? Why had the vagabond not said anything? Had he truly not known?
“You mean the leader of The Black Briars?” Seiyariu raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t play dumb, it’s unbecoming.”
“You give me too much credit, I know of the man, but I am surprised to hear it is his hand in all of this.”
“Oh? How interesting.”
“And what would the Black Briars be doing with all of these trinkets?” Seiyariu asked, pointedly. “I wasn’t under the impression they were collectors.”
“I couldn’t tell you vagabond,” said Pluto. “But if your treasure has gone missing, that is where it will be.”
“Will you take us?”
“Willing to throw your trust onto a stranger? This artifact of yours must be very important.”
“More than you know.”
“I doubt that.” Pluto sat up a little straighter and rested his elbow on the table. “Tell me, what is the name of this artifact you are seeking.”
“Is that necessary?”
“No, but when you pay for my services the questions come with them.”
Seiyariu paused, thinking about this for a moment. “And how much would it cost for you to take us there with no questions at all?”
“More than you can—”
Seiyariu tossed a bag of coins on the table before Pluto got the words out. Leo blinked in confusion, he’d never seen Seiyariu carrying this before. Where had it come from?
“There’s half.”
Pluto inspected the bag, “I believe we have a deal. But I must ask, will this stripling be accompanying us?” He gestured at Leo, unseeing.
“This stripling is my student, and yes he will be accompanying us. He can handle himself, don’t worry.”
“Most people say that, often it turns out they can’t. But for this much I suppose I’ll take your word for it. You’ve hired yourself a boatman to take you to hell, vagabond.” He grinned at Leo. “Take care not to fall overboard.”
33
The Briar Patch
Nea lay back on her bed and stared for what felt like the thousandth time out her window at the dreary cloud of nothing beyond. The fog never faded, not offering even a glimpse of the sea or sky to sate her restless mind. The reflection of light through the soupy fog suggested it was midday.
Not for the first time in her life, she imagined that she could fly, leave the world, leave her body behind and soar without a care, without fear, without pain. Nea remembered being a little girl and watching birds, always jealous of how simple it was for them.
What was it all for?
She’d asked herself this question time and time again, ever since she’d saved Leo half a lifetime ago. If she hadn’t helped him get away she wouldn’t be in this mess. That memory of his haunted stare, his scared little face, she couldn’t escape it. Every time it came to her, it was accompanied by the image of Cain pinned under her horse, left to die. She’d saved them. Both of them, and both times it had cost her her freedom. Nea had worked so hard. She had broken herself out of Glatman, fought and killed to survive in the wilderness. All to escape and find a new life. Why was it then, that she was so quick to throw it away for people she barely even knew?
She felt the cold draft before anything else. With an entirely unnecessary knock, Quinnel let himself in.
“You forget you locked it?” Nea asked not looking at him.
“Force of habit,” he said gruffly.
“Well piss off then, make that a habit.”
“Shut up, I’m not exactly thrilled to be your babysitter.” He sat on the other bed, spinning his daggers like a bored cat.
“That’s really what they’ve got you doing?” She raised an eyebrow. “The left hand of Djeng Beljhar and all that rubbish?”
He scowled. “It’s better than I deserve. Mister Beljhar says that the task has been given to other operatives.”
“He replaced you.”
“You’re a shit, you know that? Do you want to sit here staring out the window all day? I thought I might show you around.”
“Why?” she asked, eyes narrowed. “I thought I was a prisoner.”
