The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey (14 page)

“I’m not even sure what a good sky port looks
like, but I’ll take your word for that,” she replied with a
smile.

“Now since we have mutually decided to skip
the embarrassing details of my arrival let me see your admission
slip and we will figure out which circle of the Academy you will be
in.”

She grinned at his abrupt change in topic,
and fished the slip from her coat pocket. It was still in its
envelope. Father Belson had simply instructed her to deliver it to
the Admissions hall at the Academy. They would explain everything
from there. So she hadn’t even looked at it. “What do you mean,
circle?” She asked as she handed it over to him.

“There are five circles of the Academy,” he
began as he tore the envelope open carefully. “The number of the
circle determines the level of training you are to receive. The
fifth circle is the easiest. That’s the least schooling usually
only lasting about a year. Simple business training for menial
jobs, such as minor accountants and such. Fourth is a bit more in
depth but not much. It’s for scribes and small business owners.
Third is more advanced: merchant sons, physicians...” His voice
trailed off as he examined the slip carefully, seeming to reread it
a time or two before he turned to look at her. His expression was
not one she could easily read. “Second is for mages, half-blood
lords, and such. It’s a much longer time and most outside of those
areas don’t bother with it. The first circle is mostly just High
Lord’s children. The study is far too intensive to be of use to
most, so no one but the High Lords usually bothers with it.”

She nodded at his explanation and motioned to
the slip. “So which circle am I?” she asked, expecting perhaps
fourth, but there was a chance it might be third. She pondered for
a moment as to which circle she would prefer.

“First,” he answered, watching her reaction.
She looked at him in shock, and he nodded slowly. “I have a lot to
teach you about the Bloodlines apparently. You are a kitten and
whoever paid this Admission is tossing you in amongst the wolves.”
He handed the slip back to her and gave her another considering
look. “Each Bloodline has its own wing of the dormitory. It would
never work if they pushed us all in together, we would kill each
other off before we had a chance to learn anything. We are granted
several rooms and our retainers or allies usually occupy those
rooms. If you wish, you may stay in my wing. I’ll grant you what
protection I can, but the choice is ultimately yours.”

“Yes, thank you,” she replied almost before
he had finished speaking. She smiled at his expression. “If Fortune
went so far to have us meet, I will not ignore the offered chance.
After the luck it required for us to meet, how could you expect a
different answer?”

With a sigh, she leaned back in her seat and
tapped her knee lightly. She glanced at him momentarily before
looking back toward the view screen. After the second glance, he
gave another chuckle and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” he asked
with obvious amusement.

“I want to ask another question, but I’m
afraid of sounding like more of a twit than I have already,” she
explained.

“As far as I know, questions are the best way
to learn, and I don’t think you are a twit. I think you have been
very sheltered, but that’s not a bad thing, though. You will have
an open mind and that’s something not many can claim. Most of us
are raised in a rather biased fashion, and our opinions are formed
from our parents’ opinions. So ask, and I will try to give the most
neutral answer that I can, so my personal views don’t cloud your
judgment.”

She hesitated for another moment and then
sighed. “You said
Bloodlines
. Is that another word for the
High Houses or is that different?”

He shook his head at her lightly. “Now see
that is not a stupid question at all, that’s a rather important
detail. All High Houses are of an Immortal Bloodline, but not all
Immortal Bloodlines have High Houses. Some choose to remain neutral
and leave leadership to others. Some individuals choose their own
path away from their families and become mercenaries or Aspects. It
really is a confusing mess, if you are coming into it blindly. I
can look at most and tell from their appearance what Bloodline they
are. You will have a much more difficult time.”

“So if I need to know something I will pester
you with questions.” She grinned at him.

He gave her a nod another smile. “Well there
it is then, though I don’t consider questions pestering. Now, lean
back and relax, and I will bore you to death with the rules of the
Academy. They are good to know but tedious to learn.” She leaned
back with a smile and nodded for him to begin. She was content with
the sound of his voice and the view of the world passing beneath
her on the view screen. This was definitely better than any other
ship she could have booked passage on.

“Are we going to announce ourselves to the
underworld here?” Isador asked. Her eyes were fixed on their
surroundings rather than him, Charm noted with approval. It was
always a pleasure to work with a professional and Isador was just
that. Her light brown hair was braided tightly and bound into a bun
on the back of her head, keeping it tidily out of the way should
she need to move quickly. Her clothing was purely functional dark
linens and silks, with plenty of pockets. She wore a form fitting
jacket rather than a cloak. Soft leather gloves and boots completed
the ensemble. At her side hung a veritable armory of daggers,
dirks, throwing knives, and even a whip. She looked relaxed as if
she were lounging in a park rather than standing in a pitch black
trash-covered alley in the worst part of the city. She wasn’t in
much danger, though, he supposed. It would take a fool to pick a
fight with anyone armed as heavily as she was, but then the world
was filled with fools.

His gaze flicked down the alley at a noise,
and his hand dropped to a dagger on instinct. With disgust, he
watched a plump rat shoulder through the trash in search of food.
He kept his senses alert for the next few moments, noting from the
corner of his eye that Isador was doing the same with her slim
gloved hand resting on a dagger, as well. When no further noise or
movement came he looked back to her. “I don’t think so. Hemlock
rules the shadows here, and I’d sooner slit my own throat than ask
his permission for anything,” he said answering her question at
last. He knew Hemlock from beyond the barrier. The man was ruthless
and cruel and not at all sane. The less he saw of the man, the
happier he would be.

“You know I typically do spy work. I’m afraid
I don’t have much practice as a guardian,” she said, apparently
satisfied with his answer.

“Normally, I’m lifting particular items or
shutting certain mouths. I can’t say that I’ve ever guarded
anything other than myself in my life,” Charm replied with a smile.
“It’s a girl, though, and an unknown one. How hard can it be?”

“A sheltered innocent, most likely sweet and
beautiful girl, dropped in the middle of the largest city in the
world, among the young spoiled and jaded youth of all of the High
Houses…” She paused, looking toward the glow in the center of the
city. “During the Spring Games, the most popular festival in the
world that is known to triple the population of the city for
several weeks.”

“You see, it will be much easier than what
they usually ask us to do; practically a vacation,” Charm said with
a grin.

She gave a light laugh and returned the
smile. “So, where do you want to start?” She asked.

“First, we set ourselves up at the Academy.
It shouldn’t be hard due to that place being a labyrinth. We should
be able to find a safe spot quickly.” He moved slowly out of the
alley they stood in, taking care to stick to the shadows. Both of
them were professionals and being spotted or heard shouldn’t be an
issue unless one of the NightBlades happened to be in the area. The
NightBlades were the ruling force of Sanctuary’s underworld.
Typically, they were every bit as professional as the two of them,
but it was doubtful they would be here. This part of the city had
once belonged to Merro and was now in such ruin there was no profit
to be had. The few citizens that remained were too poor for anyone
to think of stealing from them, and anyone worth an Assassin’s
contract had long ago been killed. “Once we have ourselves set up,
we work out shifts. Neither of us needs much sleep, so we will work
in rotation. I want to do more than just watch the girl. I’d like
to keep an eye on others, as well. Anything we can gather of
importance will help. We will keep the girl as our main priority,
of course, but for the two of us that is a task too simple. I
myself will grow bored quickly if all I have for entertainment is
babysitting.”

“Agreed. I can’t say I’m too excited about
watching over a teenager. If she is anything like I was at that
age, I’ll be wanting to throttle her every other minute for
blundering,” Isador replied.

Charm glanced at her in amusement.
“Blundering, eh? I can’t quite picture that from you.”

She made a half snort half laugh sound. “All
teenagers are brainless, Charm, and I’m sure you were, as well. I
fell in and out of love weekly, every time thinking he had to be
the perfect one. And no matter how petty, every little thing seemed
a disaster from a ruined dress to random gossip. It is all earth
shattering to a girl at that age.”

“I can’t say I ever had quite that problem. I
didn’t grow up in normal society. I trained from the day I could
hold a dagger to my twentieth year. Perhaps that is why they kept
me so busy with learning, so I wouldn’t have time to be foolish,”
he replied. “By the time I left my home my only interest was
gathering the coin to pay off my mentor for his training.” He
scratched the back of his neck and smiled. “I probably should have
gotten around to doing that before I was thrown into this
prison.”

Isador gave a soft chuckle. “You are one of
the oldest Immortals I know Charm. How did you evade that debt for
so long?” she asked, her eyes still roving over the city they
crossed.

He snorted in amusement. “I learned my
lessons better than my mentor would have liked. Greed was one of
his lessons. I decided I’d rather evade him than part with my
well-earned hoard.” He spared a glance up at a ramshackle building
that seemed ready to fall down at any moment and watched the child
seated on the balcony. She couldn’t have been more than eight, and
to see her out so late with no lights on behind her in the house
made his suspicions rise. She could quite possibly be an informant
for the guild. Children were low cost for them to maintain and
easily ignored. He watched the child shift slightly and noted the
sickly thinness of her stick-like limbs wrapped in flesh. She gave
a weak cough that sounded thick and huddled closer to the building.
Not eyes for the guild he decided, too weak and sick to be of use
to them. He paused in his step and watched the child a minute
longer. Isador stopped beside him and followed his gaze. She
flicked a questioning glance to him. “I hate moments like this,” he
said in a voice barely above a whisper. “If I give her food it
won’t save her. If I give her money, she will be robbed. If I take
her to shelter in a better part of the city, I will be
noticed.”

“And if you heal her, you announce your
presence, as well. Either by the magic being sensed or the girl
telling the tale,” Isador finished.

“And yet if I walk away and leave a sick and
starving child to fend for herself, what am I?” He asked with a
sigh.

“Professional. We do what we do for the
whole, not for the individual. We cannot save them all, Charm,”
Isador replied.

He shook his head in disagreement. “It is the
individuals that make the whole,” he said as he moved closer to the
building. His eyes flashed over the structure and quickly found a
way up despite the rot in the wood. With silence and skill earned
over centuries, he scaled the building and dropped lightly on the
balcony near the child. She did not even look up. He held his
breath at the stench of the area, forcing himself to ignore it.
There was death in the room beyond her and from the scent of it
more than one body. The child was dirty and starved, her small face
looking more like a skull than the living. There was no sign of the
Veir plague, as he had feared at his first closer look. Still
keeping to the shadows he moved past the child and into the
apartment. The smell was too overwhelming to ignore. He felt his
gorge rise and pushed it back down. There were three bodies lying
haphazard across the room - an infant and another child perhaps the
age of five. However, judging the age of a body that far gone was
difficult. A grown woman’s body, presumably the mother, lay against
the wall battered so badly he could still see signs of the wounds
despite the decomposition.

He glanced at the two dead children and then
moved back to the balcony for the third child. He could recognize
the signs easily enough by each child’s different hair color. The
woman had most likely earned her living in the alleys raising her
skirts for whatever coins she could get. The children were a side
product of that trade, often unwanted and rarely loved. The higher
class whores could afford charms or magics to keep themselves
barren, but a back alley whore had no such luxury. He wasn’t sure
if the woman had died from her last beating or from some disease
she had caught at the trade. He had seen this sight before, too
often in fact. Given his trade, he often found himself in alleys,
and when one needed information, whores were a wealth of knowledge.
He knelt down and looked at the child, likely she had been
half-starved before her mother’s death. In this part of the city,
even if she had the strength to forage for food, there was nothing
to steal. Her eyes were dull and lifeless she had given up
hope.