Hunt for Justice (20 page)

"I don't get many visitors," she said as she placed a pot on the stove and lit it. "I spend most of my time working, which leaves little time for being social."

"It's quite alright. Do you mind if my friend takes the chair? He has an injured knee."

"Feel free."

Nolan shuffled past her, whispering a "thank you" as he moved to the chair. Ezzy gave him a quick smile before returning her attention to Syla.

"If you don't mind me getting right to the point, we're trying to find someone and hope you could help."

"Your family has been so good to me over the years. Anything I can do to help you would be my pleasure. What is the person's name?"

"Iacane. I was told he had come to this village a while ago."

"Ah yes. The Saniteal. Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but he disappeared a few days ago."

"The Janpair family told me as much. I was hoping you might have an idea of what happened, or at least point us in the direction of where he was staying."

Syla continued to move about, straightening pots and pans, checking on the tea, picking up loose utensils. Not once had she met Ezzy's eyes since they had entered the kitchen. Ezzy found it off-putting, but then again, everyone that lived in this village seemed a little strange. Maybe it was normal here not to make eye contact when speaking to someone.

"Tea is ready." Syla grabbed four glasses off the counter and filled them from the pot. Passing them out, the woman couldn't hide behind preparing the tea and was forced to stop and talk to them. She stood there, shuffling in place, her eyes on the floor.

"So...uh, the Saniteal?" Ezzy asked. She took a sip of the tea. It was interesting, a mixture of sweet and sour. "What do you know?"

"I know he came because of the rumors about the Unyielding Wall, how it affects the people that live here in strange ways. All rumors, I assure you. I've lived here for a long time and haven't noticed anything strange."

"You also said you don't get out much."

"True, true. Anyway, this Saniteal had been around for a while, using his magic to examine each member of the village. I saw him a good amount when he was doing his rounds. Kept a notebook that he was always jotting something down in. He talked a lot too, sometimes even to himself. If you ask me, he's the strangest person in the village."

"But then he went missing? Do you think he annoyed enough people that he got chased out of the village? Or that something worse might have happened?"

"It's hard to be annoyed with a man that offered his healing services for free while he stayed in the village. I burned my hand a number of days ago, and he fixed me up in a matter of moments. Quite amazing, that magic of his."

"Well, if it wasn't because he was annoying the villagers, can you think of any other reason he might have disappeared? Even if it's something small, it might--"

She cut off as Nolan slid out of the chair, his empty cup cracking on the wood floor as he slumped to the ground.

"Nolan!" Moving to his side, she was relieved to find he was still breathing. He wouldn't wake up though when she shook him a few times. "Shayua, help me get him up. Shayua?"

Looking over her shoulder, Ezzy found Shayua looking at her with a confused expression. Then the tall woman's eyes rolled back in her head, and she crumpled to the floor as well.

"I'm sorry!" Syla said, taking a few steps back. "I don't know how they knew I had any relation with your family!"

"What? Who are you talking..." Ezzy's vision suddenly swam, the world around her turning hazy.

"They offered me money, which I rejected without a thought. But then they drew their weapons, started breaking things, even cut me a few times, until I agreed to help them. I didn't think you would actually show up. I didn't even think anyone in your family was still alive. I'm so sorry!"

Ezzy tried to put two thoughts together but failed. Her head grew heavy. A sharp pain broke through the haze for a moment as her head hit the ground.

Then blackness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A Darkening Mind

Panic. That's the emotion Nolan felt as he woke up, face down on a stone floor, hands bound behind his back. Rolling to his side, he saw an empty room with dark grey, stone walls devoid of any windows. A thick wooden door was the only way in or out. A single candle sat in a sconce in each corner of the room, well above his reach. The flames flickered about, as if they also wanted to escape the dank room.

Any movement on his part sent jagged bolts of lightning through his injured shoulder. Even so, with a great deal of effort, he managed to sit upright. From a sitting position, it took a little more effort for him to struggle to his feet.

Now what?

The blacksmith had drugged them, that much was clear. He could be in her basement. Were Ezzy and Shayua somewhere nearby? If the blacksmith knew anything about Ezzy, their captor would have to keep her drugged to make sure she didn't bring Paz in to free them all. Unless they had gotten her far enough away from Paz that she couldn't control him. Had he been out long enough for them to travel that far? The room he was in gave away nothing. Nolan could have been asleep for a whole season for all he knew.

Limping about, he tried to find anything that might give him a clue as to what was going on or how he could escape. Whoever his captor was, they had done an excellent job of clearing the room. He couldn't even find a random rock or piece of the wall that had broken off to use as a tool to cut his binds. Even though getting his hands free wouldn't help him at all, it would ease his discomfort somewhat. At least it would lessen the pain of the ropes rubbing his wrists raw. Maybe if he tried pounding on the door, someone would come and tell him what was going on and maybe loosen--

The door. Or more specifically, the door hinges.

The door sat on a wooden frame held in place by three hinges evenly spaced. It opened inward, meaning the hinges were also on the inside of the room. Backing up against the door frame, he began rubbing his bindings as hard as he could against one of the protruding hinges. He pinched his skin quite a few times as he sawed into the ropes, but he felt them start to give. It might take him a while, but Nolan believed he could eventually get through his bindings. The process gave him some time to reflect on how he got here.

How had he let his life come to this? He had a well decorated home, a variety of expensive and comfortable clothes, and enough money saved up and hidden away that he could lock himself in his house and only come out to buy supplies and pick up a few books to read and live happily. As he had gotten older, that had been all he wanted. That, and to retire before he completely lost his mind. Now, he was locked in a room and who knew what his future held? All because of one girl.

Ezzy.

Sure he had argued against the idea of hunting this Ean fellow down, but when she showed no sign of budging, he had agreed to go without giving it another thought. Why? Of course she meant something to him. He had watched her grow up; he was like an uncle to her. But why hadn't he tried talking her out of seeking her own form of justice for her father, whatever it might be? Had he wanted a measure of redemption as well for his old employer and friend? A part of him knew that no matter what he said, Ezzy was too headstrong to let go of the past. Did he go along with her just to watch over her? Or was it to make sure she didn't do something she would regret? Why couldn't he answer his own questions?

A dimming of the light made him look up. Deep in thought, he had stopped working at the ropes. Why had it gotten darker? There weren't any windows in the room. He looked up at the candles and what he saw made him groan. The candles, which had been easily a hand-length long when he woke, were almost completely melted down.

It had happened again. Lost in his thoughts, what had seemed like moments had been much, much longer. So much time had been lost all because he couldn't stop his mind from wandering
.
Focus, Nola
n
. He began sawing at the ropes around his wrist even faster, trying to make up for all of the lost time. His muscles burned from the effort, and he expected to feel blood dripping down his wrists as raw skin finally broke. But he had to work harder. He might only get one chance to escape and he wouldn't have much of a chance with his hands bound behind his back.

"Focus, Nolan," he whispered. "For your and Ezzy's sake."

And possibly Shayua's, but she was low on the importance scale compared to Ezzy. And the woman could handle herself. She had probably escaped and was working to free them already. That would be nice. Nolan could just sit and wait...

Darkness descended on the room like a curtain.

"Not again..."

The candles' flames were gone along with what little light they had provided. A meager glow spread out from beneath the door, barely lighting the boots on his feet. Nolan pressed himself against the door. He hated being in a pitch-black room, regardless of whether it was his bedroom or a cell. The darkness seemed to press down on him. Crush him. He heard the scratching of animals coming from the walls and moving across the floor. He needed to get out of there.

Fueled by fear, Nolan began fervently working at his restraints again. He didn't care anymore how badly he sliced up his wrists. He wanted his hands free. Needed them free. What if whatever was crawling around tried to crawl onto him? Get into his clothes? Claw its way up his skin?

Nolan tripled his efforts.

By the time Nolan heard the satisfying snap of the ropes coming free, his hands were dripping with sweat.

No, that metallic smell isn't sweat.

Lifting his hands up in front of his face, he could barely see a tint of red covering his skin. How badly had he injured his wrists? They felt raw to his touch, and wet, but his skin wasn't spurting blood. Nolan took a few deep, calming breaths. The darkness still threatened to smother him, but just having his hands free seemed to help. He no longer heard the scratching of claws on stone. Had it been his mind playing tricks on him? His mind did a lot of things now that he had no control over.

Another sound caught his ear. Boots on stone. Someone was coming.

Nolan bent down, searching for the discarded ropes. A shockwave of pain raced through his body as his knee knocked into the wall. He found the rope just as he heard the clinking sound of a key going into a lock. Scrambling away from the door, he ended up rolling onto his side in the middle of the room just as the click of the lock disengaging echoed in the room. Nolan tried to ignore the pain bouncing around his body as the door opened and a man entered.

"Ah, my mistake." He sounded young, but with what little light entered the room coming from behind him, Nolan couldn't make anything else out about the man. "Didn't mean to let the light go out. I fell asleep."

Nolan didn't feel the need to respond to his captor. Looking through the door, all he could see was a dimly lit stone corridor. He remained motionless as the man moved over to the nearest candleholder and put in a new candle.

"We don't want to treat you like this, of course, but we have to be careful." He lit the candle and moved onto the next one. "You worked for the Ciantar family for a long time. It's understandable you feel some kind of loyalty to them. I'm sure they paid you a great deal of money over the years."

With the second candle lit and some light returning to the room, Nolan was able to make out a bit more about the man. Nothing special jumped out at him at first. Plain clothes covered an average-sized man. His more than shoulder-length brown hair was tied behind his head. A plain face with no distinguishable marks glanced at him for a moment, then moved on to the next sconce. Nolan rolled around, both to keep his eyes on the man and to keep his captor from seeing his hands were free. It was when the man reached the fourth candleholder that Nolan noticed the color of the man's clothes. His dark green shirt clashed with his maroon pants.

And a band of orange hung from his waist.

"You're part of the Orange Hound Gang."

He let out a laugh. "It's the clothes that give it away, right? Our leader takes great pride in our outfits. I think it's foolish to make it so obvious whom we work for, but you won't catch me saying that to his face. I value my life too much to go running my mouth around him or any of the other higher-ups of the gang."

"Where is Ezzy?"

"She's fine."

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

"They are keeping her asleep. Don't want that metal giant of hers causing any problems until we can load you all into the wagons and take you back to Wethrintir."

"What? Why are we going there?"

"Oh, wasn't supposed to mention that...ah, by the Abyss, I guess it doesn't matter if I tell you. Just act surprised when my the man in charge of our crew comes in to talk to you."

"Ok." Nolan would say anything to keep the man talking.

"Well, the Big Boss is situated in Wethrintir. Controls quite a bit of the homes and stores there. Our numbers grow every day, and we have members in every village and city, except Rottwealth, of course. Impossible to get anyone into that backward village."

"What does that have to do with us?"

"Well, the boss has taken a bit of interest in you three. Probably because you've messed with his men so much. He's been interested in Esmerelda since her Vilathos punched all those holes in his town. You can't get away with doing that without there being consequences."

"So this is purely motivated by revenge?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that. The boss could have had us torture and kill her here. Would have still sent the same message. He might still do that with that crimson freak of a woman. She doesn't really hold much value to our group."

"But Ezzy and I do?"

"Well, like I said, I'm not very high in the pecking order, but I have heard enough to put a few things together. Esmerelda is a prominent person in the realm, even with her family falling so far. She might still have some worth. She is certainly pretty enough to be put to work, if you know what I mean. After they break that stubborn spirit of hers. You're the real prize, though."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because you're a Thaljori. And a good one from what the men have learned about you. It's not like there are hundreds of your kind either. The few of you that exist all reside in Lurthalan, rarely leave the city, and most of you would be noticed if you went missing. It's almost impossible to snatch one of you up right when your powers first start to show. Our boss has failed at recruiting any of the established Thaljori in the realm as well. That makes you very valuable."

"You mean I'm being held here because he wants to hire me?"

"Seems that way."

"Well, you can tell him or whoever you report to that I'm retired."

"I wouldn't make any decisions yet. You have the whole trip back to Wethrintir to think it over. Ben can be quite persuasive."

"Ben? Is that the same man that's been chasing us all over the realm?"

"The one and the same. He was put in charge of our little group sent to bring you in. I can't even begin to tell you how frustrated you've made him. Ben came storming into town, swearing up a storm about the three of you. Especially that monster of a woman. I've found Ben to be a patient man, probably part of the reason he has risen in the ranks so fast, but getting shot with an arrow will test any man's temper. Your friend might not make it to Wethrintir, if you catch my meaning."

"We're hardly friends..."

"Oh? Well anyway, like I was saying, I wouldn't get too set on turning down our boss. You might not like the crimson one that much, but he knows you are close to the Ciantar family. He might keep Esmerelda around just to use her as leverage to get you to work for him. And he likes removing people's fingers, just as a warning. It's his thing, I guess, to stand out among the other gang leaders."

"He better not touch her. None of you better even lay a finger on her."

"See? You get all worked up over just the mention of hurting her. Might as well just accept the fact you'll be working for the Orange Hounds. I'm sure if you do as you're told, you will be rewarded handsomely."

Nolan glared at the man. The way he could so casually talk about hurting Ezzy sickened him. This thug...no, everyone associated with the Orange Hounds, were nothing but monsters.

"Well," the man said, moving towards the door. "Someone will bring you some food later. The wagons should get here by tomorrow, so until then, this room will be your...wait a tick. What's this?"

Kneeling by the door, the man knelt and examined the floor. When his hand was raised, a red tint was clear on his fingers.

"You hurt? I can't have you making a mess of yourself." He gave Nolan a quick looking over. "Stand up. Let me take a better look at you."

Not knowing what else to do, Nolan stood.

"Turn around. Let me see your hands."