Chasers of the Wind (52 page)

“You turned out to be a lad who doesn’t miss.”

“I’m glad you appreciate my skills,” I said dryly. “Stand up.”

He raised himself up with a groan.

“Old age is not a joy.” His smile came out crooked.

“You had a pretty unlucky day today, didn’t you, my friend?”

He swallowed and then nodded. “I’ve had better.”

“I sympathize.”

“It’s just a job, lad,” Greybeard said suddenly. “Nothing personal.”

“I understand. It’s all about taking care of your grandkids.”

“I have two.” He looked at Layen beseechingly.

He knew that I was feeling far from kind today.

“Get out of here,” I said, pointing the crossbow toward the door.

“What?” Greybeard clearly couldn’t believe his ears.

“Get out of here,” I repeated.

He didn’t linger any longer, nor did he wonder at my unearthly kindness. “It was nice to meet you, Gray.”

The Giiyan headed for the door. As soon as he crossed the threshold, I hit him with a bolt in the same exact place where not too long ago Freckles had taken it. The assassin fell to the floor without making a single sound.

“It’s just a job. Nothing personal.” I repeated his words, thinking that getting a house by a lake wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

22

“There, that’s better,” said Layen quietly as she finished bandaging the deep scrape on my side.

“Thank you.”

We’d already been stuck in this small, old graveyard, not far from the Pig’s Snout, for more than an hour. It was late evening, almost dark, and no one had bothered us. We were hidden by the ivy-covered graves.

“At one point I was scared for you.”

“I too almost lost hope, my sun. They were good.”

I smiled, but she remained serious.

“Believe it or not, I noticed.” Layen put her arm around my shoulders. “Where did they capture you?”

“At the vegetable market. Apparently, they came all the way from Corunna for our souls. Stump will be unhappy that I didn’t come.”

“I wonder who handed us over to them?”

I chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.

“Ask me something easier. It could have been anyone. One of the pissants surrounding Mols, for example. Hey, tell me, how did you end up behind us? As far as I recall, the stairway was empty.”

“Not one of you bothered to look up.” Her eyes gleamed triumphantly. “The innkeeper built something there, a pantry of sorts. I was able to hide myself there and shoot the one holding you.”

“You didn’t just get Freckles, you got the woman, too. You handled her nicely. I wasn’t expecting it.” I praised her work.

“I was so scared for you that I acted without thinking,” she said guiltily. “The truth is, now I’m completely empty. The strike took away everything I accumulated over the last few days. I have to start again.”

“It’s okay,” I comforted her. “The main thing is that your spark is flaring up. We’ll use steel to deal with Joch.”

“He knows we’re in the city. I’m sure of it.”

“Do you think it’s not worth the risk?”

She thought for a moment and then reluctantly shook her head. “No. He has to be removed or else our lives will go to the Abyss. Do you think there are more than these three today who want to make a grab for the money?”

“There were four of them.”

I told her about the Je’arre.

“Good riddance,” she said. “It’s already dark. How long until we move?”

“Another two hours,” I said hesitantly, and then I made a proposal. “We need to go back into town and get something to eat.”

*   *   *

We made it back to the Pig’s Snout just in time for the chiming of the bells that indicated it was three o’clock in the morning. The wine cellar was located in the basement of the old building.

As soon as we walked up to the door, a man stepped out from behind the corner.

“It’s the thief,” I said softly to my sun.

“And it’s the Giiyan,” said Harold in lieu of greeting. “I must say, you don’t waste any time.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked grimly, thinking I already knew the answer.

He smiled crookedly. “I’m talking about the four corpses, found about five blocks away from here. The whole underworld is seething. Some joker overwhelmed three masters and one petty winged crook.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

The thief shrugged. “I’m not a fool. And neither is Mols. I imagine the lady is on a rampage right about now. Goons from the capital trespassed onto her turf and almost twisted off your heads.”

“Are we going to wag our tongues or are we going to get down to business?” Layen was starting to get angry.

He laughed without malice. “We’ll get to business as soon as I get my money.”

I counted out five sorens and tossed them to him. He flashed his smile again and put the money away.

“Wonderful. I’m entirely at your disposal.”

Layen knocked briefly on the door. For a long moment nothing happened; then the bolt clanged, the hinges creaked briefly, and the light of a lantern struck our faces.

“Come in,” said Stump, stepping aside. “When you didn’t come to our meeting, I started to worry.”

He didn’t say a word about Greybeard and his friends. So much the better.

“Is everything ready?” I looked around.

Rough masonry on the walls, small windows right under the ceiling, and huge wine barrels along the walls. A small table in the corner, a cabinet with lopsided doors, and a cracked stool. Besides Stump, there were two of Mols’s ruffians in the room.

“We politely asked the landlord to leave the door open. He knows Mols, so he didn’t mind. Let’s go.”

He beckoned us to follow him. As it turned out, there was a narrow opening between two of the barrels. Stump barely squeezed himself through it; we followed after him and came out into a narrow closet. On the floor was a hatch, which opened up onto a surprisingly sturdy wooden staircase.

“Why are you standing there with your mouths open?” muttered Stump. “Go down.”

The basement was stuffed with racks of wine bottles and, just as above, barrels. Harold walked along an impressive row of wine racks, selected a bottle, and meticulously studied the label.

“Not a bad selection at all. It’s worth remembering this place.”

“To buy or to fleece?” sneered Layen.

“However it works out,” he replied, not offended at all.

“I would never have taken you as a lover of wine.”

“A connoisseur, actually. And only of good wine. It’s one of the few things that can still afford me joy.”

“Can we put a stop to the idle chitchat?” Stump said irately. “When you return, you can carry off as many bottles as your heart desires.”

“I’ll remember your words,” said the thief. “Where’s the rat hole?”

“In the corner.”

A lantern stood by a hole dug in the floor. Previously it had been covered with a wooden lid, which was now pushed to one side.

“The shopkeeper stumbled upon it accidentally. He wanted to dig another cellar for the colder wines, but it didn’t work out. He got this legacy of the Sculptor instead.”

“I don’t see a reason why he couldn’t have used it for his own needs.” I peered into the hole.

It was as dark as the Abyss. I wondered if the bottom was far away. Judging by the thickness of the floor beneath us, it was built soundly. And also, if magic and just a little bit of brains were applied to the construction, it was not surprising that after a thousand years these vaults still hadn’t collapsed.

“It’s not very high.” Stump seemed to read my thoughts. “A bit more than three yards. My lads and I will lower you down on a rope.”

“And who will lift us back up?” asked Layen suspiciously.

Indeed. What would prevent him from lowering the cover and forgetting about us for all eternity?

“We’ll wait until morning. After that don’t blame me.”

“Naïveté is a great virtue, Giiyan,” said the thief, laughing.

“Are you trying to say that you don’t trust my word?” Stump scowled.

“I don’t even always trust my own, to say nothing of others’. What do you think, Gray?”

“I don’t think Stump would do something so nasty,” I said slowly, looking into the eyes of Mols’s helper. “It’s … grotesque. Isn’t that right, Layen?”

“Oh yes! That’s not how you behave with friends,” she said. “But if you do decide to leave, I’ll have to smash in the ceiling.”

A bluff as clear as water. She couldn’t even squash a mouse right now, let alone smash through a thick layer of stone.

“That’s also an option,” I supported her, and turned back to Stump, who was still frowning. “Believe me, she’s capable of it. Especially when she’s angry.”

“You don’t scare me,” said the red-faced assassin, scowling, even though his eyes spoke to the fact that he was feeling quite uncomfortable. “We’ll wait as long as we can.”

Harold found the entire situation amusing, and he was smirking. I got the impression that the man really had agreed to participate in this adventure just for the sake of entertainment.

I was first to be let down by the rope, carrying the lantern; then came Layen and the thief. Finally, Stump’s shaggy head appeared in the hole above us.

“Go straight all the time. Don’t take any turns. This is the main tunnel, it will take you to Joch’s compound. Give my regards to Threefingers.”

“And where, in your opinion, is straight?” Harold asked sarcastically. “There?” He pointed in one direction, turned, and then pointed in another. “Or there?”

“There.” Stump pointed to the left. “Don’t get lost. Now be gone with you—my head is already starting to ache from looking at you.”

I walked in front with the lantern. Behind me came Layen, clutching her crossbow. The thief brought up the rear, humming an unfamiliar song under his breath. His behavior was really irritating, but I endured it stoically.

I hoped we weren’t taking him with us for nothing.

*   *   *

When the lantern light disappeared in the distance, Stump got up from his knees, brushed off his trousers, sighed, and walked to the exit. Halfway to the stairs he stopped and glanced at the racks where the dusty bottles were resting. He walked over, took one at random, and looked at the label. The wine wasn’t one he needed to stand on ceremony with, so Olna tugged his favorite Sdisian dagger from its sheath and with one blow cleaved the top off of the bottleneck. It was faster and easier than trying to tug out the cork without a bottle opener. Gulping it down, he walked up the stairs, came out into the closet, and nodded to one of his subordinates. The man jumped up immediately, as if he’d been waiting just for this, and darted out onto the street.

Stump sat on the pitifully creaking stool and occupied himself with the wine, getting grimmer by the minute. Olna didn’t like what Katrin had set in motion, but he knew she was right. If they didn’t do what they were told, there would be trouble. They’d simply be crushed.

The door opened and Mols walked into the wine cellar with six assistants. She looked at Stump inquiringly.

“They’ve gone,” he said succinctly.

“We’ll wait,” said Mols.

“Do you think they’ll get it done?”

“Joch won’t live through the night.”

Stump nodded grimly and brought his lips to the bottle once more. He needed some way to pass the time.

*   *   *

The tunnel was dry but the river that had flowed through in the past had left its mark on the walls. They were so smooth they looked polished. It was obvious the water level had never reached the ceiling, for that was rough. It smelled of cold stone and centuries of dust. I didn’t see any rats, nor any other small creatures. There were no echoes either.

The wound Freckles left on my side was aching contrarily, but I tried to cast it from my mind for the time being.

“Now we’re somewhere near the barracks,” said Layen when we had walked two hundred yards. “If Stump is to be trusted, there’ll be a turn soon.”

And indeed, the tunnel did take a sharp turn and begin to slope upward, climbing the hill under the cliff on which Hightown stood. We passed by four side tunnels. The thief couldn’t resist and stuck his head into one of the tunnels, but as expected, he didn’t see anything interesting.

“Just think of it! So many glorious things used to be made with the help of mages…” said Layen, coming up to walk next to me. In the lantern light her face was pensive and very beautiful.

“What?” I asked her gently.

She sighed. “None of the Walkers living now could dig underground aqueducts that not only led the river to the sea, but also brought water to the houses along its path. In Hightown and Second City it’s just below the ground.”

“Fairy tales.” I didn’t really believe in such stories.

“Judging from what I heard, no.”

“She’s right,” came the thief’s voice. “In one of the wealthy houses, not far from here, I saw a bath. It was old. Just the kind of thing that would have been filled by an underground river. Although I must say, I’m not all that impressed by this dungeon.”

“One would think you’d managed to get into a lot of them and that you’ve seen so much better,” murmured Layen.

Harold grinned but didn’t respond.

“Imagine all the frustration of the rich when the spring dried up,” I said, chuckling, and raised the lantern higher.

“The river began to dry up, and it was only then that they destroyed some of the arches.”

“To break is not to build,” concluded Harold philosophically.

“That’s not the point,” I disagreed. “Here’s the heart of the matter. If they hadn’t, parts of the houses would have collapsed into the ground.”

“Is it just me or is the ceiling getting lower?” said the thief thoughtfully.

Indeed, the farther we walked, the lower the ceiling became. After some time I could have touched it if I wished to do so. Finally, a brick wall blocked our way.

“We’ve arrived,” I said, and I put the lantern on the floor.

“The masonry is six years old, no more,” Harold estimated. “Compared with all of this”—he gestured around the tunnel—“it’s very fresh.”

“Old Joch took pains so that not a single rat would slip in to pay him a visit,” I said and, plying it with my dagger, teased out one of the lower bricks.