Shadow Blessed (The Shadow Accords Book 1) (6 page)

T
he elderly man
sat with his back to her, a stack of coins on the table making him a clear mark, but it was the two men on either side of him that made her pause. A thick-armed man whose floral tattoos marked him as being from Garvain kept his eyes roving around the tavern, never settling in one place. The other man, a thin, compact man wearing a plain brown cloak, stared straight ahead. Strangely, she found herself drawn to him most of all.

“Aren’t you going to make a play at it?” Kel asked.

Carth rubbed her eyes. She was tired from lack of sleep. Etan had kicked the bottom of her bunk repeatedly throughout the night, thinking it funny to keep her awake. He’d thought it even funnier as she’d stumbled along the streets throughout the day, too tired to keep her focus as she tried grabbing at purses, but struggled too much. She kept going back to the place where she’d left the sash, burying it under rocks near the shore.

“I don’t think he’s the best target.” She hated letting scraps like that get away, but what would she risk if she attempted to get past his two companions, and tired at that? The bigger man was more likely to catch her, but she had experience moving quickly with men like him. That was one advantage to her size. The other man made her more uncomfortable.

“Etan said—”

Carth spun to Kel and jabbed a finger into his chest. He took a step back, grabbing at his shirt where she poked. “I don’t care what Etan said,” she whispered. Even irritated, she still had to be careful that she didn’t speak too loudly here, preferring instead to let the voices in the Wounded Lyre keep her voice obscured. “If you think he’s such an easy target, then
you
grab at his pocket.”

Carth slipped away from him, staying near the walls, where she could observe the entire tavern. After the previous night, she almost didn’t want to collect enough scraps so that she could leave the tavern. When she’d reached her bed, it had taken her hours for her heart to slow, and she’d still been awake when Kel and Etan came into the room. Etan made no attempt to keep his voice down in spite of Kel shushing him. There was something more going on in the city with the A’ras than she knew, and she wanted to find out who else might be targeting them.

As she moved away from the table, she had a crawling sensation between her shoulder blades, one she recognized from the games played with her parents, one that made her think that someone watched her.

Slowly lowering herself, she discovered the smaller man looking in her direction. Carth shivered. Had she attempted to grab the old man’s coins, she had little doubt that he would have seen her.

She continued to move away from the table. There were other tables where she could work, though she’d already made a pass through here, so finding additional scraps without attracting attention would be difficult. Better to return to the kitchen, take a few bites, and come back when there had been some turnover. That would be safest, but Vera would frown on it.

A low-pitched voice caught her attention. Not so much the tone or a sense of familiarity, but the content. “You hear another of them bastards got cut last night?”

Carth looked for who spoke and found a younger man with a wild shock of dark hair on his head, leaning forward intently. The three others at his table all sipped tall mugs of ale, two of them with eyes already glazed over. They might be drunk enough for her to pilfer from them, but they had the look of sailors, men without much money. More than that, Vera had warned her to stay clear of men like that.

“Careful, Bren,” the man across from him said.

Bren raised his glass and took a long drink. “Why should I be careful here? There’s nothing but drunks here.”

“You’re here,” the man next to him said.

“I’m a drunk.” Bren took another drink. “Shouldn’t we talk about it? After so many getting cut, don’t you wonder what’s going on?”

“They’re still the A’ras,” the third man said. His brown eyes looked at the others more clearly, and in the time Carth had been watching, he hadn’t touched his drink. “You talk about them and they find out. Best to leave well enough alone, Bren.”

The other two men nodded.

Bren finished off his ale and slammed it down. “I’ll leave it alone, but you don’t need to be so damn scared to even
talk
about it. Especially now, with the Reshian making their presence known.” His voice rose as he spoke, and talk at some of the nearest tables began to die down. The sober man grabbed Bren and pulled on his arm, but Bren shook him off. “No reason to be scared down here, Foln. They ain’t down here. They’re
never
down here.” When another man grabbed at him, he stood. “Fine. I’m going.”

As Bren weaved his way through the tavern, he bounced off one of the poles and Kel slipped forward, moving too slowly as he slid his hand into Bren’s pocket and back out. Bren tripped over Kel and they both fell forward.

“What you think you’re doing?” Bren said.

Kel crawled back, his eyes wide.

Bren patted his pocket and Carth watched with growing concern as the man realized that his coin pouch was now in Kel’s hand.

“Boy?” Bren thundered.

Carth glanced at the kitchen. If Vera discovered Kel had been caught grabbing scraps, she’d throw him out. She might start to ask about how Carth and Etan managed to bring in so much coin. They all might be out of a place to stay.

Kel continued to scoot away, not saying anything.

The door to the kitchen opened and Vera poked her head out.

The voices in the tavern began to die down as Bren towered over Kel.

Carth darted forward and slipped her hand quickly into Kel’s pocket as she helped him up. Bren stormed over to him and shoved Kel away. As he did, Carth quickly dropped the coin pouch and kicked it toward the pole.

“You filchin’ from me?” Bren demanded.

Kel shook his head, his gaze going to Carth as he searched for help.

Damn him! Bren didn’t have enough coin to begin with, and he was already leaving. Kel knew better than to go after someone like that.

“I felt you grab—”

“Sir?” Carth interrupted.

Bren blinked, slowly turning his gaze away from Kel.

“I think you dropped your purse when you tumbled,” she said, motioning toward the pole.

Bren staggered toward the pole and leaned forward, carefully clinging to it for support as he did. He grabbed his purse from the ground and held it up to the light, a confused frown on his face. For a moment, Carth felt a flutter of fear that she’d grabbed the wrong purse, but then Bren shook it and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Conversations in the tavern began to resume. Carth allowed herself a moment to think that he might leave without saying anything else, but Bren took a step toward Kel. Kel didn’t move, standing stiff and frozen in place, staring with his wide-eyed expression at the larger man.

“I felt him grabbin’,” Bren muttered.

“I think you just bumped into him,” Carth suggested as she stepped between man and boy. She looked past him to his now-standing friends, praying that they would take him from the tavern without another incident. “An accident. That’s all.”

The sober man eyed Carth strangely and then nodded, rushing forward to grab Bren. He pulled on the larger man, dragging him toward the door. “You’re drunk, Bren,” the man said.

“That’s what I told you,” Bren answered.

“You said you were
a drunk
. I’m saying you
are
drunk.”

Bren grunted as the door opened and he was pulled outside. “Pretty much the same, don’ you think?”

The other men with him glanced at Carth and shrugged as they followed the others out of the tavern.

Carth grabbed Kel and pulled him to the kitchen, feeling that crawling sensation between her shoulders again. As she closed the door behind her, she noted the thin man watching her again.

“What was that?” Vera demanded as soon as the door closed. “Did you try to
steal
from one of my patrons?”

Kel hung his head. “I’m sorry, Vera. It was a—”

“An accident,” Carth cut in, shooting him a glare to keep him silent. What
had
Kel been thinking? Why would he have risked thieving from a man like Bren? There wasn’t likely to be much of value in his purse anyway. Any real coin he had would have been spent on ale throughout the night.

Vera crossed her arms over her chest as she looked from Carth to Kel. “Accident?”

Carth shrugged. “The man was drunk, Vera. He bounced off the pole into Kel when they got tangled up. Can’t blame that on Kel.”

Vera watched her a long moment before scanning the tavern and then waving her hand. “Get out of here, both of you.”

Carth started away from the kitchen. When she reached the door, she realized that Kel hadn’t followed.

His hands were clasped together, and he fidgeted with his fingers while looking at her. “Vera,” he said.

Vera stood in front of a pot, stirring what smelled like chicken broth, and glanced up. “What is it?”

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have—”

Carth slammed the door to the back of the kitchen open, startling Kel. “You coming?”

The other boy blinked a moment and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled to Vera and ran toward the open door.

When they were through, Carth jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She pulled him down the hall to their room. The floor creaked overhead and footsteps thudded across the boards. Carth lowered her voice and leaned toward Kel. “I saw what you did. What were you thinking, grabbing at that drunk?”

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

Kel attempted to shoulder past her, but she grabbed his wrist to keep him from getting too far. “That’s why we’re here, but it’s not to get caught. We’re only to take scraps. Bren didn’t have any scraps for you to claim!” They reached their room and she pushed open the door, stepping aside to let Kel into the room.

“Who’s Bren?”

Carth closed the door more firmly than she intended. “Bren was that stupid drunk you decided to steal from. Didn’t you even look at him? He barely had enough to pay for his drinks, and then you go and grab for his purse.” She planted her fists on her hips as she faced him, waiting for him to answer, but he didn’t. A flush rising in his cheeks was all the answer she got. “Well?”

Kel threw himself onto his bed and backed into a corner. “What do you want me to say? I don’t recognize scraps as well as you do.” He pounded the wall with his fist, turning his back to her. “Stupid thing, anyway. They’re not scraps. Just coin from all the drunks they let into their tavern.”

Carth took a seat on the edge of his bed. “It’s either that or you sell what Vera wants you to sell. It’s what we’ve got to do because we’re strays.”

“Strays. Etan and I are strays. Not you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kel managed to turn so that he could look at her. His hair stood in disarray, rubbing against the upper bunk. “What do you think it means? You’re no stray. Strays are given up. Left. Unwanted.” He swallowed and she noted that tears welled in his eyes. “That’s not you. I saw the way you were dressed when you came.”

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“Because you refuse to share!”

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall made her turn. Was it Etan? She didn’t want to have him show up while she argued with Kel. They had been together longer, and she knew which side Etan would take if it came down to it.

“Well?” Kel said.

Carth ignored him and crawled up into the top bunk.

What did he know about her? She wouldn’t tell him how she’d seen her mother dead. Or how her father, who was supposed to have been following behind her, playing nothing more than a game, was missing. She refused to tell him that she had been
happy
, really happy, and had lost everything. How did that not make her a stray?

Carth wiped tears from her eyes and pulled the knife from her pocket, setting it next to the pillow. She reached under her pillow and pulled out the books reclaimed from her home, the only scraps she had left of that time.

Forcing herself to control her breathing, she pulled the books to her face. When she inhaled, she could almost smell the remnants of her mother, a connection to that past, a hint of pine and tehla spice that she wished she could find once more.

But she couldn’t. There was no more home for her.

Carth didn’t even bother opening the books and rested her head on her pillow.

As she tried to sleep, Kel finally spoke again. “Thanks.” When she didn’t say anything more, she heard him crawl out from his bunk and stand on Etan’s, the pressure from his hands pushing down on her bunk. “You didn’t have to help me back there, so thanks.”

Carth didn’t turn to face him. “I thought I was helping another stray,” she said. Her hand slipped to the hilt of the knife and she squeezed it, feeling the weight of the handle pressing against her skin.

Kel breathed out heavily. “I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He stepped down, his boots settling heavily on the floor. “That was quick thinking, what you did.”

“I shouldn’t have had to.”

“You’re right,” Kel said.

“Don’t be stupid again.”

Kel was quiet for a moment and she heard him crawling back into his bunk. “I’ll try not to.”

Carth took a deep breath, pulling her mother’s books to her face and inhaling their scent again. When she couldn’t sleep, she flipped one open, choosing at random, and left the page open as she settled her head on the book. She might not be able to read Ih, but as she fingered her mother’s ring, she could have comfort that her mother had once read these books. For a little while, she didn’t feel like the stray that she was.

D
arkness covered
the street along the docks as Carth moved as stealthily as she could, each step silent against the night. Kel didn’t manage nearly so well, his heavy boots slapping against the cobbles, making nearly as much racket as a horse trotting through the city.

“Do you have to be so loud?” she asked.

Kel jogged up to her, breathing heavily. Even that was loud. “I’m not as quiet as you.”

“You’re not,” she agreed.

“I’m not as quick at grabbing scraps as you either.”

Carth veered toward a pool of shadows. They didn’t really help keep Kel any quieter, but at least in the shadows they would avoid some detection. “Nope.”

“How?” he asked.

Carth paused near a point, the river rushing noisily over rocks. At least here, Kel’s voice wouldn’t carry quite as well. “How what?”

“You. You weren’t a stray before you came to Vera. I know that. So how is it that you manage to walk so much softer than me and have such quick hands? Were you a thief before Vera found you?”

“Vera didn’t find me.”

“Fine. Hal found you. Pretty much the same.”

Carth turned to face the river, listening to the sound of it rushing over rocks as it flowed toward the sea. She could jump in, let the river carry her. She’d learned to swim the surf in places like Darfan and didn’t fear the water. If it flowed far enough, she might even make it all the way back to Ih-lash, where she’d been born. She never understood why her parents had left a land they so clearly loved and come to Nyaesh. Whenever she would ask, her mother’s response was always the same:
Later
. Now there would be no later.

Kel stood next to her, his shoulder brushing up against hers. “Were you a thief before?” he asked again. She shook her head. “Maybe trained by the A’ras?”

“Careful,” she cautioned.

Kel faced her, a smile splitting his mouth. “Funny that you would tell me to be careful. I’ve seen how you sneak out, come back with full pockets. You never stray this far in the city. Where do you go when you run off?”

“Nowhere. And I wasn’t a thief.”

Kel studied her face a moment, the moonlight reflecting off his deep brown eyes, making them almost appear black. “If you say so. Doesn’t change the fact that you have faster hands than me.”

“I didn’t see you complaining when I split my collection with you tonight.”

Kel grinned again. “I didn’t say I’d complain. It’s nice to actually collect enough for a change.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Vera doesn’t care if we don’t bring in coins.”

“Maybe not, but I can’t imagine she likes it when we don’t bring in what she wants, either. There’s a price to staying with them.”

“Yeah? Then what’s the price?”

“I don’t know. But there has to be something. Vera might not tell us outright, but that don’t mean we get a free pass. And if I can’t sell enough, then I got to collect scraps.”

“But I’ve seen you collect enough before.”

“Have you? I’ve never really managed to move quickly enough. Most of the time I have to use the bump technique.”

“That’s a stupid way of collecting. You’d be crashing around the streets.”

Kel arched a brow at her. “Yeah? Before you came, that was all we needed. Then you show up and demonstrate your quick hands, collecting scraps that would last a week before.”

“Vera doesn’t need the money anyway,” Carth said. When Kel arched a brow at her, she shrugged. “The Lyre is busy enough that she doesn’t need the money to feed us.”

The tavern was busy. Most nights it was crowded, with the attached inn managing to rent out its rooms more often than not, especially situated near the river as it was. That much business wouldn’t require her to need Carth and the others to bring in much money. Did she have them selling in the street to keep them busy? It would keep them away from the tavern during the day, at least give Vera a chance to cook without them bothering her, and she’d never asked them to stick around to help.

“Where have you been going at night?” Kel asked.

Carth shook herself, pulling her thoughts back to the conversation. “I’ve just been wandering.”

“That’s not safe, you know. The A’ras patrol more than they used to. There’s something going on outside the city that makes them nervous. You get in the way…”

“I’m safe enough.”

“Yeah?” Kel grabbed at her arm quickly and pulled on her. “What happens if—”

The suddenness gave her a flashback to when the man had grabbed her outside the square and covered her mouth. Carth jerked on her arm, tearing it free, while pulling the A’ras knife from her pocket.

Kel raised his hands and took a step back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’d ask you the same thing!” She jabbed at him with the knife and he took another step back.

His feet slipped and he started to fall.

Carth jumped for him.

There would be no way for her to reach him. Kel had moved too far from her, but fear for him must have made her quicker than she should have been. She reached him, grabbing for his wrist. For a moment, she had him.

“Don’t let me fall!” Kel pleaded.

His wrist began to slip. Carth didn’t have a strong enough grip, and he slipped from her, falling into the churning water.

The current pulled at him, too fast for him to swim against.

Cursing, Carth stuffed the knife into her pocket—she wasn’t about to lose the one thing that might help her get revenge on the A’ras—and jumped into the river after him.

She was a strong swimmer, but this was madness!

Cold water slapped at her, and the frothy churn tried to pull her under. She kicked, keeping her head above the water, and swam with the current, trying to reach Kel. Each stroke carried her far along the shore. If she wasn’t careful, she’d float beyond the city… or more likely, get bashed into the rocks.

Kel popped to the surface not far from her. With another stroke, she reached him and slipped an arm around him, keeping him above the surface.

He coughed and took a hoarse breath. “Carth?”

“Can you swim?”

“Not in this. Water is too fast!”

“It’s not too fast. Just kick your legs.”

Kel looked at her, his eyes wide and the color drained from his face. “You should have just let me go. Now we’re both going to drown.”

She started kicking, trying to get to the shore. They’d been pulled to the middle of the river, and the shore looked to be over twenty yards away. “We’re not going to drown,” she snapped. “But you have to help.”

Kel finally started to kick. They moved slowly toward the shore, angling against the fast-moving current. The only advantage to it being night was that none of the shipping boats sailed, leaving the river as a churning black sheet.

“I can’t keep going!” Kel cried.

“You have to.” Carth’s arms had begun to tire and her lungs burned, with each breath feeling like she breathed fire, but she knew the moment she gave up, they would drift along down the river. Much longer, and they would get pulled under.

“Carth—”

He started to slip from her grasp, and she squeezed his sides, trying to hold him in place. She couldn’t—she
wouldn’t
—lose Kel. It was her fault that he’d fallen in, and she wasn’t about to be the reason someone she cared about died.

Carth continued to kick, holding as tightly to Kel as she could. Her vision started to go black and she blinked, trying to clear it, not wanting to lose sight of the shore. It was tantalizingly close now. All she needed was a few more kicks.

Kel slipped from her grip and dropped beneath the water.

Carth cried out.

She stopped swimming and took a deep breath before diving beneath the surface.

Water rushed past her as she tried to swim in place. It was too dark to see Kel. Had she lost him?

Something grabbed at her sleeve.

Kel?

Then Carth was pulled from beneath the water, and with strong strokes, someone dragged her to the shore and threw her up to the top of the rocks. The overwhelming cold finally struck her and she shivered uncontrollably.

Someone had saved her.

“Kel!”

She sat up and saw a man with a dark cloak shaking himself free from the water. “The other will join you soon.”

Carth followed the direction of the rushing water along the shore and saw another man carrying a small, unmoving bundle over his shoulder. When he neared, he set Kel down next to Carth. She checked to see that he was breathing, then finally allowed herself to relax.

“Thank you,” she said.

The first man stood along the shore, staring out at the river as the other approached. “You should not have gone for a swim so late.”

“It wasn’t a swim. He fell in.”

“And you went with him?”

“I went after him.”

The man turned and came toward her. Moonlight filtering through the clouds gave deep shadows to his face, but there was something familiar about him. Had she seen him before? He didn’t have the look of the sailors who came through the docks, dropping off shipments on their way farther down the river, and he didn’t have the stink of the local fishermen, but he’d been a strong enough swimmer to pull her from the water.

“You went after him in the dark and this late in the season?”

Carth didn’t know how to respond. It was foolish what she had done, but letting Kel drown because of an accident would have been equally foolish. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” the man said.

He took a step toward Carth and she shivered again, this time less certain whether the cold in the air made her shiver. With a sudden pulsing fear in her chest, she searched for signs that he might be one of the A’ras, a sash or a sword, but found nothing. The A’ras wouldn’t have gone into the river after someone drowning, anyway. More likely, they would have been the reason someone had been thrown in.

She pulled the knife from her pocket anyway. The blade reflected some of the moonlight, gleaming dully, and the faint edges of a smile pulled on the man’s mouth.

“Do you know how to use that?” he asked.

Carth jabbed toward him with it.

He chuckled. “That’s one way. Not the only one.”

Kel coughed and the man glanced at her knife once more before turning back to his partner, taking a place along the shore, staring at the river as if expecting something to float down it. He wasn’t a tall man, nor particularly large, but he stood as if an immovable rock along the shore.

“Carth?” Kel whispered.

“It’s me.”

“How? What happened?”

“We nearly drowned.”

Kel coughed again and started to sit up. He tensed when he saw the two men standing along the shore. Neither moved, and neither spoke.

“I know that. How did we
not
?”

Carth motioned to the men. “They pulled us from the river.”

Kel was silent for a while. “We… we should get back.”

Carth took a deep breath and felt her heart beginning to slow. Kel was right. They had been gone long enough. If they didn’t appear, would Vera or Etan bother coming to look for them?

Kel helped her to stand. Water dripped from her dress and her braid remained saturated and stunk of the river. She’d have to comb it out, and she hoped that her dress dried quickly. Kel looked as miserable as she felt, with his normally thick hair flattened against his face, and his shirt and pants clinging to his body.

He started to grab for her wrist but caught himself. “Come on,” he said instead.

Kel started down the street.

Carth glanced at the two men, but they didn’t seem to notice. Could she leave without saying anything more to them? They
had
saved their lives. She owed them some sort of thanks, at least.

She approached them slowly, neither man seeming to move, but both tensing as she neared. “Thanks. For saving us, I mean.”

The shorter man turned. The shadows cast by the moonlight parted slightly, and Carth realized why he was familiar. She resisted the urge to back away, the desire to run. This was the man from the tavern the night before, the one who had seemed to watch her, staring at her with a gaze that seemed almost knowing as she considered taking scraps from the man with the stack of coins on the table.

His face gave no sign that he recognized her. “Choose a better time to swim next time,” he said.

Carth bobbed her head in a quick nod and turned to run off after Kel. As she did, she had a crawling sensation between her shoulder blades, the same sensation she’d had the night before, when she had been convinced that he watched her. Only, when she risked a glance back, the man once again stared at the river.

She didn’t slow her pace until she reached Kel near the edge of the city. Neither spoke much as they slowly made their way back toward the docks of Nyaesh, and to the Wounded Lyre.