Anais and the Broken War (The Blood Mage Chronicles Book 5) (13 page)

I gripped one of the wooden handles of the ladder above my head and then put my foot on one of the lower handles. As I started climbing higher and higher, I noticed that the height didn’t bother me. There was something comforting knowing that I had control over the process.
 

The rope ladder eventually arced over the side of the ledge. After Fynn and I climbed over, we took quick stock of our new environment. We were on yet another precipice. The rope ladder was tied to a metal stake that was embedded in the rocky surface of the ground. Beyond the ledge, we faced three tunnels that led in various directions. I looked at them and then at Fynn.

He shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue. I told you that I’ve never been this far.”

“I suppose we’ll just pick one.”

We chose the tunnel in the center. The light of the glowworms dimmed as we descended into the passage, and we were once again dependent on the lantern’s flame to light our way. I took the lead, and as we walked, the height of the tunnel started to reduce, until we were half crawling. I considered suggesting that we turn back, but I would have had to turn my head to tell Fynn, who was crawling behind me. Eventually, the tunnel widened, and we could stand again. However, a large boulder blocked our path.
 

Fynn and I pushed the rock, but it wouldn’t budge. So I tried to use my internal magic, but I was better at moving small things. I nicked my finger with my knife, gripped the necklace, and tried again to force it to move. The rock glided forward revealing a slim opening, just wide enough for Fynn and I to slip through. A long hallway, with walls and a floor made of hard-packed dirt, confronted us.

“This couldn’t have been the way Mediera and Cedric went,” I said. “They could never have gotten past that rock.”

“Maybe they picked one of the other routes,” Fynn said with a shrug.

“Do you think we should go back and try another way?” I asked

“I don’t know. Perhaps we should just walk for a bit. If we don’t find a way out, we can turn back.”
 

I took a deep breath and nodded. I didn’t have a better idea. So we walked down the hall until we encountered a door. I touched the cold brass knob. It wouldn’t budge as I tried to turn it. Without thinking, I sent a few threads of energy out of my hand and into the locking mechanism. The lock clicked as I shifted the tiny internal device. I pushed the door open, revealing a cellar filled with barrels. I sniffed. Wine. Good wine. There were no other doors in the cellar, but there was a wooden hatch above our heads.
 

I looked sideways a Fynn.

 
“It could be worse.” He shrugged and then pushed open the hatch and pulled himself up. I followed him. A barrel-shaped man stood behind a bar wiping it down with a rag in a room filled with empty tables and chairs.

“Who the shyte are you?” the man asked. “And what do you think you’re doing in my tavern?”

C
HAPTER
12

IN AN UNSPOKEN threat, the man pulled a baton from underneath the bar and laid it on the counter.

“I knew we should have chosen one of the other tunnels,” Fynn whispered.

The only reasonable explanation for our presence was the truth or at least a muddled version of it.

“There’s a passage in your storeroom,” I said.

“Aye. But the door’s locked.”

“We unlocked it,” I said.

“I have the only key.” He fingered the handle of the baton.

“We picked the lock,” I answered.

“So you’re thieves then?”
 

“No,” Fynn said. “We’re not thieves. I dislike the accusation.”

“What are you doing here?”

“We escaped from Barriershire,” I said. “The passage connected to your cellar leads through the mountain.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Liar,” he said.

I elbowed Fynn in the side. There had to be some way we could prove ourselves.
 

Fynn pulled two shiny gold coins from the purse he had been hiding behind his shirt and set them on the counter. “Say that again.”

“Shyte. That’s good coin. You sure you didn’t steal it?”

“We’re telling the truth,” Fynn said. “By the honor of the sisters of mercy. We are from Barriershire.”

“You both do look like you’re covered with a weeks worth of grime. And maybe I have heard rumors that there was a tunnel down there.”

He touched one of the gold coins. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was considering how easy it would be to dispatch us and take the coins for himself.

“We have connections in the city. Important connections who are aware that we were coming through the passage,” I said. I could almost hear Jacarda whispering strategy to me. She would know how to play this situation.

“Is that so?” the man asked, withdrawing his hand from the coins.

I nodded, making certain not to flinch.
 

“Humph.” His eyes were still on the coins. “For two gold coins, you can get my best room upstairs for the night. It’s much too late for you to make your way through the city now. This isn’t the safest part of town.”

I snorted. “For two gold coins, you’ll provide us a room for a week and meals and baths,” I said. My old bartering skills were rusty but apparently not altogether gone.

“We need some new clothes too,” Fynn said as he fingered his rumpled, dirt stained jacket that no longer resembled a military uniform.

“I can have a tailor brought in tomorrow,” the man said, offering a toothy grin as he swept the coins away. It was a hefty price to pay. But worth it, I decided. I didn’t think I could bear much more traveling. I desperately needed to collapse into a warm bed.

“The kitchen is closed, but I can wake up my wife, and she’ll fix you something to eat. The baths will have to wait until tomorrow, though. I won’t be able to get hot water until midday.”

The man took us to a spacious suite on the floor above the tavern. There were two joining rooms, and I fell asleep on the bed in my room well before the tavern owner’s wife arrived with the food.

I woke to the sound of splashing water. When I opened my eyes, I was confronted by light flooding the room, and I could see a young girl pouring water into a tub.

“Good day, madam,” the girl greeted me. “Your bath is almost ready.” She placed the bucket she was holding on the floor and emptied a second into the tub. I got up and peered in. The bath was indeed quite full.
 

“Do you have hot water that runs to the tavern?” I asked.

She nodded. “We do. There’s a hot spring that was rerouted to Rockside. We’ve got more hot water than we can use. Do you need help undressing?”

I shook my head, not wanting to reveal the military uniform I still wore. No doubt the tavern owner had spoken of the state he found Fynn and I in last night, but there seemed no need for me to create a situation that would easily allow the girl to ask questions.

Once the girl left the room, I pulled the sheet away, undressed, and lowered myself into the tub. It felt nice to be immersed in warm water. I noticed the water was slowly turning brown as I rinsed the dirt off of myself.

While I scrubbed, the door between my room and Fynn’s opened and Fynn stepped in. He had one towel wrapped around his waist and another wrapped around his head.

“Fynn, I’m bathing. This is inappropriate.”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “We’ve been traveling together for over a week. I’ve seen everything there is to see.”

“Fynn!”

“We may as well wait for the tailor together. I’m not putting my clothes back on. There’s really no point. Hopefully, the tavern owner will burn them.”

I sighed. “At least turn your back while I step out of the tub.”

After he turned, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself. I looked into the tub. The water had indeed turned a dull brown. “I’m not really clean yet,” I said to Fynn.
 

“I had the same problem. One bath was not nearly enough to scrub away the grime. I’m going to look for a public bath house whenever I get a chance to explore the city.”

“Did we make it all the way to Courtshire then? I never asked last night.”

“Not quite. You should look out the window,” Fynn suggested.
 

I pushed aside the thick muslin curtains, revealing a large pane of glass. A sprawling city wrapped around a large sparkling aquamarine lake spread out before me. On the far end of the lake, I could make out a large castle, which I imagined must be Courtshire’s Great House. There was no wall containing the city, and I wondered how they would defend themselves if they came under attack. I frowned. We must be very high up to have such a wide view of the city. But Fynn had said that we weren’t even in the city yet.

“Where are we?” I asked him.
 

“The tavern is built into the side of the mountain. As are several other proprietorships in Rockside.”

“Rockside?”

“We’re just outside the city limits. Rockside used to service the miners before this side of the mountain was mined clean of black rock. Now it’s just a collection of small residences and a few taverns. A number of the city’s minor merchants live here but have their shops inside the city markets.”
 

“How do you know so much? Have you been here before?”
 

“No, no. This is the first time I’ve traveled outside of Barriershire.” He smiled. “Although you fell asleep early last night, I stayed awake long enough to chat a bit with Gertie, Patrick’s wife.”

“Patrick?” I asked.

“The tavern owner,” Fynn answered. “They’ve lived in Rockside all their lives. Although they knew about the fury attacks on Barriershire, they were under the impression that it was a minor nuisance. Interesting, don’t you think?”

I nodded. It was interesting. If the general populace were unaware of the extent of the problem, they wouldn’t be putting pressure on the lords’ council to remedy the matter.
 

“The tailor is supposed to be here soon,” Fynn said. “I wonder how much he’ll charge for a new wardrobe? For that matter, I wonder what fashions prevail in Courtshire? One can hardly judge by the way Patrick and Gertie dress.”

I sighed as I remembered my trip from Brightshire with Cedric, Clara, and Thomas. They had no need for money, as a league of servants had provided for their every whim while they lived in Brightshire. I remembered feeling bitter when I had to use my hard earned coins to support them. Now I was the one with no funds and dependent on someone else. How the tables had turned.

“Fynn, I don’t have any money. I’m sorry. Do you think you have enough to buy me some clothes?”

 
“Of course.” He laughed. “I suppose sisters of mercy living at the Great House don’t have much need for coins.”

I coughed, stung by the irony of the situation. “I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“I have no doubt of that. I’m going to need connections if I’m going to build up the right clientele list. I don’t want money from you. I want invitations to dinners and parties.”

“How do you expect me to gain admission to Courtshire social events?”

 
“Lady Mediera adores you for some reason. She must be mingling with the most elite fraction of society. She needs a husband after all. She’ll have access to the people I need to meet.”

“I suppose so.” I frowned.

“Just remember to include me when you’re gallivanting with the aristocracy. That will be payment enough.” He grinned.
 

After emptying his purse onto a small table in the corner of the room, he sorted quickly through the coins. “Eleven gold coins, thirty silver coins, and seven coppers. I sold most of my possessions when it became clear that the fat man was going to send most of the skins to certain death. Sadly this is the sum of my life’s work. It won’t buy me a shop, but it should keep me alive long enough to enable me to drum up a few wealthy patrons.”
 

Three short raps struck the outer door to my room.

“Perhaps that’s the tailor,” Fynn said, and then quickly scooped the coins into his purse.
 

I opened the door a crack and peered out. A short man with a wide mustache, scarlet cheeks, and bright eyes swept into the room. He was dressed in a violet silk jacket with an abundance of ruffles puffing out of the collar. After he entered, three little women each overloaded with several large bags trailed into the room.