Chasers of the Wind (51 page)

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

“The right choice,” said Greybeard. “Well done, lad.”

He spoke softly and kindly, but he didn’t shift the blade. I felt the shallow wound oozing blood under my shirt.

“Where is she?”

I hesitated.

“Don’t get jittery. Relax.”

“Near Second City.”

“Let’s take a walk. Do we have to tell you what will happen if you think of doing anything stupid?”

“No.”

“I’m liking this lad more and more.” Greybeard smiled broadly. “Good. Walk next to me. Don’t rush. If you make a move, call out, or make a scene, I’ll finish you. If you intend to take a chance anyway and run away, my friend throws knives quite well. Am I explaining myself clearly?”

“Yes.”

I knew I would have to take a risk along the way. There were two of them, and one of me. They were better. But I didn’t have any choice.

“Limp. A lot. Please don’t forget about it.” Freckles was walking behind my back. “Move.”

I diligently limped on my left foot as if it had just been sprained. Greybeard amiably supported me under my arm with a steely grip, and not for a second did he ease up on the pressure of the knife. The lads trusted in their skill so much that they didn’t even think it was necessary to relieve me of my utak or my bow. However, the latter didn’t present the slightest threat to them. I wouldn’t have time to draw the string back. But I was happy that they hadn’t touched the Blazgian throwing axe.

However, it seemed my happiness was premature. Someone’s deft hands slipped under my jacket and a second later I was left unarmed.

“That’s Marna,” Greybeard explained to me kindly.

I didn’t know what Marna looked like; she was somewhere behind me, with Freckles. One thing was clear, though—there were three of them.

We left the market and went out onto Jennet Street. Out of the corner of my eye I observed movement to the right and above us. I raised my head and managed to see something interesting.

“Jakan.” My companion smiled. “I heard that you’re a good shot, but my friend is quite good, too. He’s there just in case we make a false step.”

So, now there were four in the team. A Je’arre, an archer. This was really quite bad. The winged one flew from rooftop to rooftop and was ready to shoot me at any moment.

“Truthfully, Jakan really wants to use you as target practice,” said Greybeard confidentially. “Some friendly advice—don’t give him a reason.”

“Why such a dislike?” I cast a bored glance at a squad of Guardsmen. As one would expect, they ignored us. And thank Melot that it was so; otherwise I’d already have one foot in the Blessed Gardens.

“You killed his boyfriend in that forest. So Jakan isn’t your biggest fan.”

It took me several seconds to figure out what the Giiyan was talking about.

He meant the forest glade not far from Dog Green and the attack on Layen when she went to collect our money. Besides those monsters who were rotting under the open sky, there had also been a flyer, who stunned my sun. He was the only one who managed to get away.

“The team he was on then wasn’t distinguished by their experience.”

“I have no doubt, since you’re still alive.” He winked at me. “They were amateurs. That’s why you beat them.”

“Why are you working with him?”

Greybeard sighed sorrowfully. “You have to make sacrifices, buddy. Jakan knew your face. He’s been a great help to us.”

“How did you find me?”

“Don’t worry about it. You did everything right, friend. Just the usual bad luck, that’s all,” he comforted me. “Neither I nor my partners have anything against you personally. It’s just a job that will pay out a decent amount of money. Well, you understand.”

I did understand. But for some reason I wasn’t particularly thrilled that Joch was going to send ten thousand their way for our souls.

I could feel Freckles’s attentive gaze on my back. Invisible Marna’s skirts were rustling. The winged freak was following me somewhere up above. The fourth man’s knife could punch a nice hole in me at any time, piercing my liver. I could already hear Melot’s servants singing to me near the gates that led into the Blessed Gardens.

“What are you going to do with the money?” I asked.

“Buy a house by a lake. I’ll angle for fish and bring my grandkids to visit. I love them very much.”

Greybeard chatted incessantly. While we were walking, I got to hear his opinion about the weather, the war, gambling, and fishing. He paid special attention to the last topic. Grandpa was an avid fisherman. So avid in fact that I began imagining how I would plant him on a big hook instead of bait and cast him far out into the sea, where perhaps some monster would devour him.

“We’ve been walking for a long time,” said Freckles.

Greybeard smiled into his mustache and pressed on the knife a little harder than before. I gritted my teeth so as not to groan.

“My friend thinks you’re trying to dupe us.”

“I’m not.”

“And yet, we’ve been walking for too long. If we haven’t arrived in the next ten minutes, we’re going to have to part ways with you, even though you are a wonderful conversationalist. I don’t really want that.” He clucked his tongue sadly. “What about you?”

“Me neither.”

“Don’t let me down, lad. Where to?”

“On the left,” I said without batting an eyelash.

When I had left, Layen was sitting at the table near the window. All I could do was hope that she was still busy there, and that she would look out the window by chance. Of course, it was a foolish hope, but I clung to it with all my might. There was nothing else I could do. I even started to walk a little slower, so I could stay in sight for as long as possible, but Greybeard noticed this and without lengthy consideration, he gently poked the knife into my side.

“Thinking about something?”

“Yeah. My last request.”

“Sorry, we don’t fulfill those,” he said sympathetically. “Speed up.”

And then it dawned on me!

You stupid ass! You should have thought of this earlier! I could speak to Layen! I could, but over the past month I’d gotten used to her being silent. Only a few days ago, in the secret refuge of the Sculptor, she’d tried to say a few words and had almost succeeded. I remembered what she said, about how her Gift was coming back to her every day. It was very possible that my sun now had enough power to hear me.

Layen!
I called.
Layen!

For an entire, infinitely long second nothing happened, and then a warm wave ran along my spine.

Ness?

Afraid that her ability would run out at any second, I babbled,
Look out the window! Carefully!

The curtain stirred faintly on the third floor.

I understand
. Her words came to me, and then she was gone from my head.

I felt relief sweep over me. Now Layen was warned, and whatever happened to me, she wouldn’t be so easy to take.

“Here?” Greybeard glanced quickly at the inn.

“Yes.” I nodded.

“Security?”

“I didn’t notice any.”

It wasn’t clear if he believed me or not.

“Are there any guests?”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t think there are very many.” He chuckled. “You picked out an expensive little nest. We’re in luck. Change places with me.”

Freckles pressed a blade to me, giving his partner the chance to withdraw. They did it very deftly. They’d clearly practiced it out more than once.

“I’ll take a look,” said Greybeard. “Marna, stay.”

He walked into the inn. The Je’arre was sitting on a nearby building. Noticing that I was looking at him, he grinned wickedly. I shifted my glance to the woman who was standing next to the Giiyan. They were obviously relatives—she was just as short, blond, and freckled. A large bag was hanging over her shoulder.

“What are you looking at?” she asked sullenly.

“What have you got there?” I nodded at the bag.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” the woman promised.

Greybeard returned.

“It’s clear. Listen to me, lad. You’re doing everything right. Our agreement remains valid. If you keep your word, we’ll keep ours. Where do we go?”

“The third floor.”

“Onward, friend.” Freckles added a poke with the knife to these words.

They thought they were leading me to the slaughter. Well. I could only hope that Layen had thought of something. And just at that second she let herself be known.

I’m ready. Our floor. Eight paces from the stairs. The door to the left of you.

Got it,
I said, walking into the inn.

The common room was empty. Not a soul. The owner was also absent. Greybeard noticed my glance toward the bar and disarmingly threw up his hands.

“He could remember our faces. The price of doing our work.”

“Do you intend to free the souls of anyone we meet along the way?”

“You don’t approve?” He stepped behind my back, letting the woman pass by.

“You work dirty,” I chided him.

“No one asked you,” said Freckles.

Marna took a crossbow out of her large bag. Of course, it lost in terms of size when compared with Harold’s, but it was also very small. It was clearly the work of the Morassian masters. They make very nice weapons in that country.

“We’ll go up slowly. When we get to the door, you’ll knock. You’ll say you’ve come back. Me and my friends will be off to the side. Any careless gesture or word, and you’ll take a long time to die. Your woman too. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Marna, you need to get her with your first shot.”

“I remember that she has the Gift.” The girl’s voice was unexpectedly low.

“Let’s go, buddy.”

Marna and her crossbow went up first, followed by Freckles and me. Greybeard brought up the rear. On the second floor we ran into a servant carrying a tray of empty dishes. Before the man had a chance to understand what was happening, the girl sank a bolt into him and Greybeard shot forward, moving very swiftly for his age, plucked the tray from the man’s enfeebled hands, and carefully placed it on the floor. Then he finished off the wounded man by snapping his neck.

“Let’s hurry, folks. Let’s hurry.”

And once again a staircase.

“You’re not as terrible as people say you are, Gray,” Freckles said suddenly. “I heard you’re a good shot, but up close you’re weak. I was expecting more.”

“We’re all masters of one thing,” announced Greybeard. “And why are you complaining? Do you think it would be better if he head-butted you?”

The third floor. Marna had already reloaded her dangerous toy and was stealthily creeping into the hallway.

“Which door?” Freckles asked me quietly.

He was tense, and he was holding me tightly by the elbow, his knife threatening to release my soul at any moment.

“The last one,” I whispered, trying to ignore the pain in my side. “On the right of the hallway.”

“No stupid moves.”

I walked forward, counting my steps. While I was still on the stair I had shifted my center of gravity slightly to the left and just a bit (so that there was no way my escort would notice) began to inch my elbow toward the hand holding the knife.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Now!

Click! The sound came from behind me.

I dropped my weight onto my left foot, simultaneously pushing my elbow at the Giiyan’s hand. At the same second a short bolt came flying from somewhere behind us and hit Freckles in the base of his skull. The knife, which should have pierced my liver, only slid along my side, tearing through shirt and skin. Ignoring the pain, I jumped to the left and slammed into the door with all my weight. At that very moment, Marna turned at the noise and shot.

The door was not locked, so I stumbled into the room (barely avoiding the bolt), couldn’t keep my balance, fell to the floor, and rolled, almost crashing into a table. I jumped up and turned toward the door just as Greybeard popped in with his knife.

Behind his back something resembling a gray cloud of flies passed by with a roar. Frankly, I had no idea what it was. Greybeard was not distracted by the strange noise, and he walked toward me swiftly and quietly. The knife flashed in his large hands. For some reason he thought I was unarmed. For some reason he thought that I would defend, not attack. For some reason he thought I was going to lose to him.

In order to play with him on equal terms, I had to exert myself. I almost jumped out of my skin in order to dodge his blade. Greybeard clearly didn’t expect such swiftness from me and missed his mark. An arrow pulled from a quiver is no worse than a dagger. I slid up next to him, struck him in the clavicle, close to his right shoulder, and he immediately opened his fingers. The knife fell out of his hand, but I didn’t leave it at that. I kicked him in the shin and slammed my open palm under his chin. He fell to the floor with a thud.

Layen, disheveled and bristling like a thousand berserk cats, flew into the room. A discharged crossbow was in her hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I said, picking the knife up from the floor and with my other hand pressing the bleeding wound in my side. “I think so. Hold this. I’ll be right back.”

I still had one piece of unfinished business. I ran past Marna’s body (or rather, what was left of it) toward the staircase that led to the attic. I climbed it quickly, strung my bow, and cautiously climbed out onto the roof. A chimney hid me from the house on the opposite side of the street.

The evening sun was shining behind me, so the lovely Jakan never saw it coming. To tell the truth, I took special pleasure in shooting down the winged louse.

On the way back I picked Marna’s crossbow up off the floor. The girl had been deprived of her head and the upper half of her torso, so she no longer had any need for personal belongings. And we could use a little thing like that. In any case, it would do Layen nicely. Without pausing to think, I also grabbed the bolts. I loaded the weapon—it was fairly easy—and took my utak back.

When I returned Greybeard had already woken up and managed to break off the arrow shaft sticking from his shoulder. He was discussing something with Layen. She had her crossbow aimed at him and was replying amiably. The Giiyan took note of me and smiled, but there was not the slightest hint of joy in his eyes. They were tense and watchful. Fear splashed in their depths.