City of Steel (Chaos Awakens Book 3) (15 page)

"I guess you were right about …" Xan started.

"Who are you talking to?"  Rand's voice appeared just before he came back into view in front of Xandrith's cell. 

"Tell him you're talking to the trolls."  Young Xan suggested. 

"I'm talking to myself."  Xandrith said honestly.  "Have you been watching me?  Are you responsible for that terrible buzzing sound?" 

"I don't believe you!" Rand snapped, his composure slipping to reveal a terrible rage beneath the surface. "Who were you talking to?"

"You should have told him you were talking to trolls, he would have believed that."  Young Xandrith walked up to the bars as he spoke.  He spit on the ground at Rand's feet. 

Xandrith couldn't help himself. He laughed. "I have done nothing but tell you the truth since I arrived, and you've done nothing but accuse me of lying. I believe I'm done talking to you, Rand. Go ahead and bring on the torture. Anything would be preferable to our little conversations."

The assassin wasn't prepared for the explosion of rage that erupted from Rand.  Rand charged forward and grabbed the bars of Xan’s cage, shaking them so hard that they actually rattled ever so slightly in their firm foundation.  "You piece of shit!  You murdering piece of shit!  I will be laughing on the day that you die, do you fucking hear me?!" 

Even imaginary Xan was taken aback at this explosion of rage.  He stepped back from the cell door looking a bit uneasy.  "This man is dangerous." 

Xandrith just gave a single nod, but didn't say anything.  After a few moments of awkward silence while Rand glared at Xan with murder in his eyes, the guard captain turned and left. Xandrith was left in the silence of his cell again.  The assassin waited for the buzzing to resume, but it didn't. After about ten minutes the lights in his cell went out as well.  Absolute darkness devoured the world, but somehow Xandrith could still see the younger image of himself hovering in the void. 

"Do you think this is some new type of torture?"  Young Xan asked, seemingly as confused as Xandrith was himself. 

"If it is, I'll take this over the other."  He answered, closing his eyes and enjoying the peaceful emptiness.  "It's comfortable." 

"You could almost forget we're going to die." 

"Almost."  With that last word, Xandrith drifted to sleep. 

When Xandrith awoke the next morning he found that someone had turned the lights back on in his cell, though they seemed much less intense than they had the day before. He also found a small block of bread and a glass of water just inside his cell door. He wasn't sure when they'd been left, or who had left them, but he was glad to see some form of sustenance. His hunger had been nagging, but his thirst was terrible. He drank the water slowly, enjoying the moisture as it coated his aching mouth and throat.

He had briefly considered the possibility that the food was poisoned, but if his jailers had wanted to kill him there would have been many easier ways to do it. The food tasted as it should. The water would have been easy to identify as poisoned, but it tasted neutral and inoffensive. The bread was a bit stale, and had obviously not been of artisan quality when fresh, but it was palatable. Xandrith finished his meager meal and sat down with his back against the wall opposite the caged opening of his cell. There was nothing to see or do. His mind drifted over the events of the last few months.

In such a short time he'd gone from being an assassin with a mountain of wealth at his disposal to a wanted criminal with nothing more than the ragged clothing on his back.  Now, trapped in a cell and awaiting his own torture and death, Xandrith found himself questioning the wisdom of his choices.  He should have never taken the job that had sent him after Leahn.  Had he not killed his childhood friend and accepted her task to uncover the truth of the Order of Mages, he would never have gotten involved in any of the trouble in which he now found himself.  

Of course, if he hadn't killed Leahn and taken up her quest, he never would have met Kassa or Haley. Would it be worse to have lost them as he had, or to never have known them? Probably it would have been better for them if he’d gone on as usual. Kassa for certain. He wouldn’t have known what he was missing now either, but the thought of not even having their memory with him was startlingly painful. He was a better person for having known them, wasn’t he? Was it what they’d made him into that he didn’t want to lose?

If he hadn’t been on this quest, he would probably have been in one of those cities destroyed when the trolls had attacked. Would he have survived that onslaught? Did it really matter?  Agonizing over the question of what of might have been didn't accomplish anything.  Many dark events had occurred since Leahn's death, but Xandrith had grown as a person as well.  He'd found friends and lost them.  He'd done selfless things, acts of heroism that he wouldn't have even considered when he was still Shade. 

"I am not a good person, but at least I can say I have done some good things."  Xandrith said the words aloud.  There was no reply, not that he'd really expected one.  What would Kassa say if she was around?  Xandrith would have given a great deal at that moment to hear her wry words of wisdom.  She'd always been too good for him, and look where that had landed her? 

"Down that road, madness." Xandrith heard the words spoken, and he looked around for a moment, expecting to see his young-shadow sitting in the cell with him. It was empty though, which made him question whether or not he'd said those words himself. He shook his head. Madness indeed. The sound of footsteps in the hall roused the assassin from his dark brooding. He stood up and took a step away from the wall. He counted three distinct sets of steps. The time had come.

Xan expected to see Rand amongst the men that approached, but as they drew within the assassin's line of sight he quickly determined that the captain wasn't amongst these three.  They all looked like students of the mechanna, dressed in sensible work clothes with strange devices and tools hanging from their belts.  Two of them sported glass eyes, and one wore a set of goggles with strange colored lenses on spring-loaded arms.  The woman was missing a right arm and had replaced it with an articulate hand of metal that made a quiet whirring sound as it moved.  These weren't the sort of folks Xandrith had expected to come torture him.  None of them looked particularly intimidating.

"Trast Gleamsteal, we've come to apologize for your imprisonment, and to set you free."  The female spoke for the group.  She was tall, heavily built, with a surprisingly square jaw line.  Her right eye was a glowing pane of glass encircled by bronze. "I'm Ulina Wolcraft, my companions are Harkavol Bint," She indicated the shorter of the two men, one with a long red beard and a friendly, easy smile.  He had two eyes of glass that radiated a blue glow.  "And Milt Shooven."  The other fellow was clean shaven with a heavily scarred face. He was wearing the goggles, having seemingly managed to keep both of his natural eyes.  He seemed nervous, and despite being taller, he hunched behind the others as though trying to avoid attention.  He gave a single nod in greeting.

Xandrith was taken aback. "You're letting me go?" He asked, confused. "Captain Fortsmith said I was to be tortured and then executed."

Harkavol's eyes flashed from blue to purple and then back to blue as his brows raised. "He said what? Captain Fortsmith wasn't to have any communication with you at all. He was only tasked with seeing to your care while you were being held and your appearance was investigated."

Apparently there wasn't quite a consensus on Xandrith's status in Forge Haven. "He’s been questioning me since I arrived." Xan stated.

Ulina looked apologetic. "I'm sorry Trast. We should have considered that possibility, but we thought Rand would put his duty before his own personal feelings. You see, before you arrived the first part of the caravan showed up in a panic. A few of the members of the caravan, one of them related to Rand, came forward with a claim that you had been responsible for drawing the trolls to the Forge. We couldn't ignore such a claim, so we set about further investigating the situation. We also ordered that, should you arrive, you would be secured and held until we could determine the truth. Rand was given that task, as he is the head of our enforcement division."

Milt spoke up quietly from the back.  "We specifically forbade him from harming you until the truth of your guilt was discovered."

Ulina nodded. "Yes, you were to be held without harm until we could speak to the others from the caravan. We questioned everyone, and soon it became clear to us that you had never posed a threat. Lottan spoke highly of you, and many others in the caravan credited you with saving their lives. Those who distrusted you were a very small portion, and none of them could provide any proof for their stances. I hope you will accept our sincere apologies on this matter."

The amount of relief flowing through Xandrith at that moment made him almost feel giddy. He still wanted to stab Rand in the face, but he felt much better than he had. "Your apology is accepted." Xandrith said easily. "I suppose Rand hasn't told you anything that I've told him?"

Ulina waved to someone Xandrith couldn't see and the bars to the cell slid open soundlessly. "No, I haven't spoken to the Captain since giving the order for you to be held."

"Then I should tell you, you need to evacuate the Forge."  Xandrith spoke plainly.  A general look of shock spread from face to face. 

"The trolls won't be able to gain entrance here." Harkavol said confidently. "They could lay siege for years and never penetrate this fortress. We’ve been ready for such an eventuality."

Xandrith shook his head. "They're going to get inside. They have resources beyond the normal. It's easy to forget, but they're every bit as intelligent as we are, and they’re masters of their own brand of magic. They will get inside before long." Xandrith stepped from his prison and found himself in an open hall. There were cells much like his lining both sides of the hallway. They all appeared to be empty. "Can I get my things back?" Xandrith asked, eager to have his bone dagger back on hand.

"Of course."  Ulina answered, nodding to a guard who was only a few feet down the hall.  He immediately took off for wherever such items were stored.  "But I think you are underestimating the work that went into building Forge Haven. From beyond the wall, there is no way to force themselves inside. The walls, roof, and floor are all impenetrable. Even with the tools we used to build them, they were constructed in such a way that tearing them apart would be nearly impossible. The ducting and water works are built with hundreds of redundancies, and they are secure beyond any one person's understanding. The trolls haven't a hope of getting inside."

Xandrith didn't feel nearly as confident about that.  He didn't doubt that Forge Haven was amazing, and that any normal invader would never find their way inside, but the trolls were different.  They had resources that couldn't be planned against.  The bonesteel wielders had powers beyond even what the trolls could bring to bear. Then there was the god-thing, which could prove to be powerful as well as unpredictable. Xan also wasn’t sure where their lizard mounts had come from, or what else they might have picked up when they’d acquired them.  If the trolls couldn't breach the walls, they would find another way in using one of their allies. 

Xandrith was about to speak these thoughts when the guard returned with his things.  It didn't take the assassin long to notice that something was missing.  "My bone dagger isn't here."  Xandrith said quietly, his elation at release drifting away as though caught on a cold breeze. 

"Was this everything in the storage chest?"  Ulina asked.

The guard nodded. "I checked twice to be certain I didn't miss anything, Miss."

"I'm sure it will turn up."  Harkavol said, obviously trying to ease the look of worry that had fallen across Xandrith's face. 

"The Captain had it yesterday." Xandrith said as the memory came back. "He was asking me what it was."

"Why would Rand be interested in your dagger?" Harkavol seemed confused. 

"It's not just a dagger carved from bone, it's a magical item." Xandrith tried to explain without going into too much detail. "It is part of the reason I needed to come to these mountains to begin with, and if we don't find it the trolls will be the least of our trouble."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Ulina looked confused. "What magical properties does it possess?"

Xandrith opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the correct words to describe the situation. "I will tell you, but it's not going to be easy to believe, and the story may take some time. Please, can we send someone to find Rand and that knife while I explain?"

Ulina looked to her fellows who all looked equally puzzled. "Alright." She said after a time. "That can be done. Let us adjourn to a more comfortable location, and you can tell us your story."

Xandrith nodded, a sense of impending doom hanging over him, There was a storm ready to sunder the peace of Forge Haven at any moment and Rand was connected to it somehow, he could feel the clouds swelling.

Retelling his story took Xandrith longer than he would have thought.  So much had happened since he'd left Rewolla and his life as an assassin behind.  He could feel time slipping away from him.  Somewhere beyond the gates of Forge the god-thing was drawing closer to the source of magic that would rouse it fully from its sleep, and the trolls pressed in on the walls of the hidden city.  Xandrith could feel the press of time upon his shoulders as he spoke.  It made taking his time with the tale difficult, but he forced himself to be meticulous in his recounting. 

"When I finally came upon the caravan I was nearly starving to death. I was just trying to make my way north as quickly as possible." Xandrith finished. He'd left out a few details, mostly the ones that would make him seem insane. He wasn't going to tell anyone about the younger version of himself that popped up for conversations. Somehow he didn’t think he’d inspire any confidence by admitting he had a mirror image that might either be a sign of his insanity, or some haunting remnant of the intelligence he'd splintered from the bonesteel weapon. There had been many questions throughout his retelling, but once he’d finished there was only a heavy silence as the three mechanna considered what they'd been told.