Sourcethief (Book 3) (26 page)

"I will," Brannis promised.

"Get going now, both of you. You have a lot of
packing to do before your ship departs. Seven bells tomorrow. He dare not leave
without you, but I cannot bear any delays. A half day may make the difference
of Tomas's life."

* * * * * * *
*

"Where is Brannis?" Rakashi asked when he
saw her.

"'Hi Soria, I'm alive,' might have been a nicer
greeting you know. Since you don't have that haunted look in your eye that Lord
Harwick does, I can only imagine you're either alive or made of much sterner
stuff than the old buzzard," Soria replied.

"Can it not be both?" Rakashi asked.
"Yes, and by most strange agency. Come in and sit. We may be a
while."

"Can you tell the quick version?" Soria
asked, following him into the small house he rented. "Brannis and I just
got pulled into another job and are sailing in the morning. I need to help him
pack or I'm liable to find myself with nothing but dresses and what I'm wearing
right now. We're on the
Poet's Hammer
—obviously a Kheshi vessel—sailing
at seven tomorrow morning. Book your passage and come along. You can catch me
up on the long version then."

"Well, for now you must know this. I faced
Rashan in a mockery of battle, but I impressed him enough that he spared me a
sure death by his aether, and offered me a deal instead," Rakashi said.
Soria had been wrong initially. There was indeed a look in that single
uncovered eye—a bit too wide, perhaps, for his normal look.

"What sort of deal?" Soria said. She tried
to work into those few words just how much distaste she held for Rashan's
deals.

"He has me at the end of one of his infamous
bargains ..."

* * * * * * *
*

Rashan grinned. "Excellent. I have a task for
you: I would like you to find and kill the twin of Brannis Solaran,"
Rashan said. His manner was no more grave than if he had asked for Tiiba to
fetch him a particular vintage of wine. An image sprang up, no doubt at the
demon's bidding. It showed a likeness of Brannis. Tiiba had not met Kyrus
Hinterdale, but if there was any difference in appearance between the two, the
image was clearly of the one who now traveled alongside Soria.

"You can find him traveling in the company of a
female coinblade," Rashan explained. "He is nearly a head taller than
you, built like a blacksmith, and armed with runeforged armor and blade. The
blade is unstoppable except by extraordinary means, and Brannis's style of
fighting is not so different from what I first showed against you. His armor
will stop nearly any blow so long as its magic holds. I would caution as well
against moving against him with the woman nearby. She is Tezuan trained and
likely to be nearly as deadly. I find it also quite likely that she might come
seeking vengeance."

"I am no murderer," Tiiba protested, mouth
hanging open, aghast.

"Ah, but you see, I am. I give you until the
first of summer, a quarter of a season from now. On the second of summer, I
come back and finish what I have started here in Safschan. Or I come back and
find that you have killed him. Do you understand?"

"I do," Tiiba said. He hung his head and
in a quieter voice repeated, "I do."

Tiiba did not look up, but felt the typhoon of
aether that drew toward the demon before his spell whisked him from Safschan.

"All too well, I do."

* * * * * * *
*

Soria crossed her arms, unimpressed with the tale.
"I think you would be pressed to harm Brannis even if you could get to
him. By all accounts, he's leveling buildings by accident, and surviving the
sort of blast that can cause that damage. Rune-blade or no, I can't see
your—"

"You misunderstand.
Brannis
, not Kyrus.
Rashan knows the difference. The man you rode into Scar Harbor with today. For
some reason, Rashan is willing to pay me the lives of all my people for his
blood."

Soria pulled away from Rakashi. Her hands flinched
toward her back where her daggers rested before she stopped herself. "What
did you tell him?"

"Tell him?" Rakashi asked, incredulous.
"It was an ultimatum. He did not even await a response."

"But surely you can't—"

"Kill Brannis? Do you mean the moral or the
practical sense? The better question is: what choice do I have? Can I weigh one
life against the lives of all my people? I would gladly give my own, but that
was not the demon's price."

"I won't let you," Soria replied. The
steel in her voice had never been directed in Rakashi's direction before. He
found himself shrinking back from her.

"I need an alternative."

"We can tell Brannis, and—"

"Have him kill me?" Rakashi asked.
"Brannis already has doubts about me fighting on the other side of his
war. And what then, fake his death? Ask Kyrus to lie to a demon whose place in
history is king of lies?"

"Who says Rashan keeps his word even if you
..." Soria trailed off, unable to say the words "kill Brannis."
She swallowed. "He's not known for keeping bargains."

"A better point, which leads me to my
suggestion: you must ensure Kyrus confronts Rashan before the first day of
Summer. It is the only way to be sure."

"What if he isn't ready by then?"

"Make him ready. The first of Summer is not far
off."

"Fine," Soria relented. "But you need
to promise not to harm Brannis. We'll figure out another way, whether Kyrus
kills Rashan or not."

"So long as you keep the secret of how Iridan
died. I will defend myself if he finds out and seeks vengeance."

Soria nodded. "Deal."

Kyrus felt a pang when he awoke. In the moment
before his mind had adjusted to Veydrus he felt the absence of Soria by his
side. He laid a hand on the empty side of the bed and felt the blankets. They
were cold from the lack of body heat. Kyrus found that he was fully dressed
from the previous day as he pushed himself up to a seated position on the edge
of the bed.

I wonder if these smell of demon?
he mused as he changed into
fresh clothing. The outfit from his trip to Azzat burst into flame and was ash
before it landed in the fireplace.
Details. Keep atop the details and I
shall keep ahead of him. Burning my clothes is no more paranoid than going
about with a shielding spell up constantly, after all.
Kyrus looked at
himself in the mirror and saw bleary eyes and unshaven scruff.

"Are you real, too?" Kyrus asked his
reflection. "Another world inside the glass? I dare you to do anything but
mimic me ..." but the image declined his challenge. He adjusted his
shielding spell until it covered the skin of his face but left his nascent
beard exposed. With a swipe of his hand he incinerated the tiny hairs. He shook
his head as he considered how long that whole process used to take him in Scar
Harbor.

Tanner should be delivering Anzik
Fehr soon. It is a long-coin wager, but if Jinzan gives up the staff I might
just stand a chance against Rashan.
Kyrus broke the mirror's gaze with a small effort of will. His mixed vision
showed him a room that was a fortress of aether. He could not see out through
his own wards and nothing (that he knew of) could see in. He was alone, that
reflection in the mirror the only thing that even gave a semblance of
companionship. Kyrus gave a long look at the empty spot in his bed next to the
impression where he had lain.
I should tell her to keep the book. I can find
another copy or maybe Juliana can read the key parts and Soria can relay them
to me.
Kyrus released his wards. He was prepared to start his day with a
bit of library browsing.
There is too great a risk of Rashan returning
without warning while—

"Good morning," Rashan greeted him the
moment the door opened. Kyrus's thoughts splashed to a puddle at his feet as he
lost hold of them. Kyrus drew before he knew why he was doing so. Rashan's eyes
widened in response. "Wait!"

Kyrus held up his hands in apology. "Gut me!
Would you kindly send someone with a Source to fetch me if you must see me
before morning feast? I am used to seeing anyone beyond the door before I open
it. Good morning, yourself."

"A case of fraying nerves?" Rashan asked.
He held out a hand to the side and a small tray of morning pastries, bacon and
tea floated to him from a waiting cart.

"A case of expecting Jinzan Fehr to break into
the palace one day to settle his grudge with me, more like," Kyrus
replied. It was one of a handful of lies he had prepared to diffuse quarrels
with Rashan. That quiver now held one fewer arrow.

"You sleep soundly from what I hear, but I
would hope you would awaken at the shock of a transference spell," Rashan
said. Kyrus looked over the morning feast options and selected a meal. "I
know I am certainly aware of them."

Kyrus stopped, a strip of bacon held in both teeth
and hand. He bit it in half, chewing as he waited for Rashan to continue.

"Go anywhere fun? Anywhere I might enjoy
hearing about?" Rashan asked. Kyrus waved him into the bedroom and shut
the door behind them.

"I had a hunch about where that Megrenn might
be hiding with the Staff of Gehlen," Kyrus said. He put the rest of the
slice of bacon into his mouth and washed it down with a swallow of tea.

"Oh, where did you think he could have
gone?"

"Azzat," Kyrus answered. Rashan froze.
"I figured that they do not tolerate outsiders. If someone could convince
them to make an exception, it would be an ideal refuge."

"And ..."

A plan was trying to form in Kyrus's mind. There
were pitfalls aplenty when lying to Rashan, but played well it could be more
valuable.
Just enough of a lie to cover the incriminating truths
...

"I met with Xizix. It seemed like he was the
only one there who spoke Kadrin," Kyrus said. Rashan's expression turned
to ice. "I gathered that you two had a falling out some time ago, and he
seemed none too pleased for me to be there. He never threatened outright
violence, but I could never be certain of his intent. I made my excuses, and
got out of there as soon as decorum allowed."

"Did you manage to discover anything of
use?" Rashan asked. Kyrus saw what looked like relief on the demon's face.
I should know better than to assume he really is. If he can feign
drunkenness and friendship, why should I believe any reaction of his?

"I got a lot of old history about immortals and
gods poured into my ears. I heard him call the Azzatians 'my children' enough
times to wonder if they might actually all be blood descendants of his. He told
me I was never to return to Azzat, and that he would be less than cordial if I
did. Between the here and there, I asked a lot of questions and got answers
that had no bearing on them. It was like trying to eat soup with a fork."

"Well, that can be expected. Most immortals
have little better to do with their time but waste the time of others,"
Rashan said. "I never did manage to learn the joy the others take in
elaborate idleness. I studied, I practiced, I learned. I felt idle by my
standards, but I did more of substance in a season than any of them did in a
dozen winters. Xizix might be an exception of course, but who knows how much
effort he actually puts into running that kingdom of his. Still, you should not
be disappointed by your failure. Just walking away from that place with your
head on is a victory of sorts."

"What was it that you came to see me about this
morning, anyway?" Kyrus asked. He filled his mouth with half a pastry.

"Well, to make you aware of my return, and to
find out where you had transferred from in the night," Rashan said.

Kyrus nodded, still chewing. "Good," he
replied as soon as he swallowed. "Then I think I will get on with my day.
Thank you for the morning feast. You know how to find me." Kyrus stepped
past Rashan and grabbed the door handle. "We have an empire to save,
right?"

Kyrus smiled as soon as he was out of sight down the
hallway. The dumbfounded expression on Rashan's face was worth the effort.
You
guess for once, Rashan. Enough of playing for a stalemate.

* * * * * * *
*

The sounds of the sea were soothing. The rocky
shoreline of southwestern Ghelk was an idyllic spot to await the arrival of
Anzik and the traitorous Tanner who had flown off with him. Jinzan sat on a
wave-smoothed boulder that would have been submerged had the tide been in. Of
late, Jinzan had been around so many chemical elixirs and rotting corpses that
his sense of smell had gone into remission, or else the salt air might have
cheered him as well. Days had shifted into nights and back again in the crypts,
and he had remained hunched over crumbling pages and flesh laid bare of skin.
He had learned to block from his mind the physical hardships of sitting
motionless on a hard stool for a long time, along with fatigue and hunger. So
too he had warded away the pleasant kiss of sunshine that warmed his face,
though the brightness bothered his eyes.

He sat and watched the shadows move among the tall
rocks. He watched the tide approach, wave by wave over hours. The gulls that
circled the beach grew incautious of him, so little did he resemble any
creature they were used to seeing. One suffered for its folly when, within
arm’s reach, Jinzan reached out and pulled its Source free. Jinzan fed on the aether
within and flung the corpse into the water, not even bothering to practice his
animations.

A creaking in the air whispered of a ship's
riggings. The Kadrin airships were based on their own primitive sailing ships,
nothing so sleek and powerful as the
Fair Trader
, but Jinzan knew a ship
when he heard one. He did not turn but saw the massive shadow flicker by and
blur into obscurity over the water. He did look up then, and saw what he
expected: the vessel that should be bringing Anzik back to him. He switched to
the aether and welcomed a respite from the sun's glare. Aboard the ship a few
Sources stood out but none like the small one that had to be his son.

"Welcome home, my son," Jinzan said. His
hoarse voice barely rose above the shushing of the Aliani Sea. He set the butt
end of the Staff of Gehlen into the wet sand and rose to his feet. The tide
washed lightly over his shoes. He saw it but felt neither coldness nor wetness.
I wonder if I can unlearn this once Rashan is dead. What good will three
wives do me if I can feel nothing of them?

The ship circled low and came to a halt a few dozen
paces away, its keel just a man's height from the ground. A rope ladder was
thrown over the side.

"Ahoy!" a voice called out. Jinzan had
grown so weary of that voice that he had hoped never to hear it again. "I
have him and we're coming down." Good as his word, Tanner was over the
ship's railing a moment later and climbing down the rope ladder. As soon as he
was on the ground, Anzik followed.

Jinzan felt a surge of relief spread through him at
the sight of his son who had been gone nearly a season. There was a smile
within him but putting a hand to his face told him that his lips were not
complying. Still feeling along with his fingertips, he forced his expression to
match his mood.

Anzik looked more attentive than when Jinzan had
last seen him. He turned his head to look at the world around him as he set
foot on the sand. He was dressed in Kadrin clothing, which was both dark and
gaudy. Getting him some more appropriate attire would be among the first things
to do when they returned to Lon Mai.

"Father," Anzik called out and began
running over the rocky ground to meet him. Jinzan expected to see him stumble
at any moment, given the difficult footing, but the boy managed without
incident. Rather than embrace him, which would have been both awkward and out
of character, Anzik pulled up short at a respectable distance. "Father,
you don't look well."

"I am fine," he told Anzik.
I wish I
believed that myself.
"Thank you for bringing the Staff of Gehlen back
to me. I am sorry it took me so long to bring you home."

"You didn't bring me here. Tanner did,"
Anzik argued.

"Ah, but I arranged for him to do so,"
Jinzan said. He noticed Anzik's gaze wandering to the staff he held. Jinzan's
hand tightened around it.

"Well, I've done my part," Tanner called
out as he ambled along the beach toward the Fehrs. Jinzan had no expectation
that Tanner would trip on a rock and split his skull, but he found himself
hoping that the annoying swordsman would. "Any chance of you giving up
that staff so we can call off the whole war? Maybe kill a demon for you?"

Jinzan let it appear as if he were giving the matter
some thought. He held the staff aloft and turned it parallel to the ground,
presenting it to Tanner. The Kadrin soldier looked skeptical but approached
anyway. As Tanner reached out for the Staff of Gehlen, Jinzan grabbed him with
aether, holding him fast.

"No. I think not," Jinzan replied. He
looked into the confused, frustrated eyes of his son's deliverer. "But
neither do I plan to kill you." Jinzan's gaze wandered over to the Kadrin
airship. It was hovering in the breeze, tugging against the line of the anchor
that lay in the sand. Jinzan left Tanner immobile and walked toward it.

"Father, do you want me to show you the
airship?" Anzik asked. The boy had trailed after him like a puppy. It was
one of the few conversations he had ever initiated with Jinzan. "It's
wonderful. I think you would like it. It's just like a boat, but it flies."

Jinzan studied the sails as he drew closer. The
arrangement was a monstrosity by seafaring standards but he could see some
logic to it for sailing the skies.
They rid themselves of a mast because
they draft nothing but clouds. That crossways spar must be for steering ...
rudder is probably too small to matter in the air. Looks cobbled, but
effective. It will do.

The crew of the Kadrin airship scrambled. He heard
shouted orders and gathered that they were well prepared to abandon Tanner to
his fate rather than attempt a rescue.
Pragmatic. Same old Kadrins.
Jinzan watched them raising the sails and began plucking the Sources from the
sailors one by one, slowing and eventually halting efforts to get the airship
skyborne once more.

Jinzan picked himself up with a levitation
spell—always a clumsy endeavor, trying to keep his own Source from rebelling
against the aether's indelicate handling of it. He turned to pick up Tanner as
well, towing him through the air to bring him onto the deck. Anzik took his own
way, following back up the rope ladder.

A sorceress confronted him. "What do you—"

Jinzan ripped the Source out of her as well, not
even bothering with pleasantries. He took the entire crew and emptied out their
living Sources, refilling them with aether he controlled. Of all who had
arrived on the Kadrin airship, only Tanner and Anzik were spared.