Crossed Blades (9 page)

“Slitting throats isn’t really Aral’s style. That’ll be the third Blade they had with them, the unknown one.” Kelos jerked his chin at the fallen envoy. “You’d better chop his head off soon.”

“Why me? And why does it matter?”

“I’m not coming down there, so it’s going to have to be you. And, the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be to conceal the fact that it was basilisk venom that killed him. You’ve got maybe five minutes before it starts to go from plain old paralysis to genuine petrification. At that point not only does the process become pretty difficult to conceal, but it’ll blunt your edge when you make the cut.”

“He’ll actually turn to stone?” The Signet sounded dubious.

“He will. The venom acts as a magical catalyst. It uses the victim’s own life force to transform flesh into something very like granite.”

“Well then, hang on a moment.” The Signet drew her sword of office—a long straight blade that glowed bright blue in magesight from all the spells it bore.

Bringing it around in a precise vertical cut, she beheaded Sharzdor without scraping her sword’s tip on the floor scant inches beneath his stiff neck. Blood fountained across the flagstones and she had to hop aside to keep it off her boots.

“He bleeds like he’s still alive,” she said.

Kelos nodded. “Of course. If the venom killed its victims outright, there’d be no residual life force to drive the petrification. For the magic to work, the victim has to stay alive right up to the point where they finish turning to stone.”

“Is it painful?”

“The turning to stone part?” Kelos shrugged. “Once the magic sets in fully there’s no known antidote or countercharm, which makes it a little hard to ask the victims. As for the poison? It burns like a motherfucker, but if you can rip your eye out fast enough you can stop it before it takes effect.” He tapped his eye patch. “That stings a bit, too, but it’s better than the alternative. Any more questions?”

The Signet blinked several times, looking genuinely nonplussed for the first time, then nodded. “I’ve got two, since you seem to be in a cooperative mood. First, why does everyone claim that basilisks kill with their gaze?”

“Myth. The venom works best if it hits you in the eyes, so basilisks usually kill face-to-face and at some distance, as Malthiss just demonstrated. It’s a pretty short jump from there to the whole deadly gaze thing. What’s your second question?”

“Malthiss isn’t really a basilisk. He’s a Shade. So how can he spit basilisk venom?”

“Trade secret.” Kelos smiled a very alarming sort of smile. “Now, don’t you have an explanation to fabricate for the king?”

“Thanks to you.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it, as I’ve things to deal with as well, now that the sun’s finally down. Also, unless I miss my guess, you’ll be receiving another visitor shortly. One I’d rather not meet.” He slid back into the open crate, pulling the side he’d been perched on shut behind him.

We should get out of here,
said Triss.
We don’t want him getting around behind us.

“I think that’s our exit signal,” whispered Faran.

“You might have a point,” I said, starting to rise. Then I took one last glance at the eyespy and swore.

The warehouse door stood open with Jax on the threshold.

What is it?
asked Triss.

I told him, and he let out a series of angry mental hisses in Shade.

“Faran, Ssithra, can you play lookout? I hate to ask, especially when it’s Kelos you’ll be looking out for, but I need to see what’s going on between Jax and the Hand, and I won’t get a chance like this again.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” demanded Faran in an angry whisper. “Your ex is another fucking traitor.”

“Probably,” I agreed, though it hurt me to say so. “But I still want to know the details. Will you watch for Kelos? Because if not, we have to go right now.”

Faran’s face twisted angrily. “Yes, dammit, but under protest.”

“Thank you. If you see any sign of him, any sign at all, activate the glyph that brings the house down and run for it. Don’t hesitate for even one second. I’ll be right behind you.”

She didn’t say another word, just shrouded up and vanished. I turned my attention back to the eyespy. In the meantime, Jax had crossed the distance to the Signet’s office where she now waited between a pair of the Hand. A third Hand had stepped through to have a quick and whispered conference with the Lady Signet. Though none of them spoke a word, the tension between the Hand and Jax was so palpable I half-expected to see steel come out of scabbards at any second.

Before that happened, the Hand in the office waved Jax in and then, with obvious reluctance, stepped out and let the curtain close behind him. The Signet had returned to her place behind the desk. Her Storm, quiescent all through the discussion with Kelos, rose now to hover above and behind her left shoulder. Its scytheblade head bobbed angrily as it glared eyelessly down at Jax.

“I’m not happy about what happened at the cemetery,” said the Signet, “not at all.”

“Fuck you.” Jax stepped over the corpse of the royal envoy to put both hands on the desk and lean down over the Signet. “
You’re
not happy! You change the plan without consulting me. You show up unannounced at a meeting you promised you would let me handle my way, and alone. You personally mageblast a hole in my side, knocking me completely out of the game. Then you have the fucking gall to tell me that
you’re
not happy? I ought to kill you right now.”

The Signet didn’t so much as blink, though her familiar angrily flared wings which had shifted from fluffy white to storm-cloud gray.

“Are you done yet?” asked the Signet.

“You’d better pray to your stinking god that I’m not,” said Jax. “Because the second I decide this is over and there’s nothing more I can do, I’m going to cut your heart out and burn it in front of your eyes.”

The Signet shrugged and continued as if Jax hadn’t spoken, “I’m not happy and your lover will suffer for it.”

“What are you going to do? Torture him extra hard?”

“I promised that Master Loris and your captured journeymen would remain unharmed as long as you cooperated with me, Master Jax. Thus far I have kept my promise.”

“Of course you have. However could I doubt the head of the Son of Heaven’s personal inquisition? Maybe because I’ve been in your dungeons before, and I know what sort of people you are. You may have ordered your people not to leave any fresh marks, but like hell you’re not hurting them. No, you can tell me all you want that you’ve called off the torturers, but I know how much your precious word is worth.”

“I can always rescind the order to leave no marks. I lost two fingers of Heaven’s Hand because of that debacle at the cemetery, and then afterward you vanished for three days! You should consider yourself lucky that I kept sending the daily messages to keep them alive while I waited for your return.”

“You didn’t
lose
any priests, you murdered them yourself when you changed the plan without consulting me. Did you think all you had to do was get Aral out in the open and then you could throw me away and do this yourselves? He’s the fucking Kingslayer. Even if he’s turned into a drunken wreck, he’s still one of the half dozen most dangerous killers in the entire world. How stupid are you to think that barging into that cemetery wasn’t going to explode in your face?”

The Signet moved like coiled lightning, leaning forward and backhanding Jax so hard that she staggered back and tripped over the corpse. As she went over backward, Jax twisted and put a hand on the floor, turning her fall into a cartwheel that ended with her on her feet halfway across the room with both swords drawn. The Storm rose high into the air and buzzed toward Jax, only to try to sheer off at the last second as a shadow tiger leaped to meet it. But Sshayar was faster, catching the Storm with both front paws and dragging it down toward the floor.

The Signet jumped to her feet and shouted, “Call your familiar off, Blade! Do it now, or there’s no message and Loris and the apprentices die in the morning.”

Jax twitched, but she didn’t otherwise respond.

8

C
hoosing
not to die can be the hardest thing in the world. Sometimes life puts you in a place where all of your options are bad. No matter what you do, you’re going to make things worse. It’s easy to let despair rule you in a moment like that, or rage, or simply the desire to let go of your problems and let everything fall on someone else’s shoulders.

I’d been there myself, more than once, and quite recently. I was starting to climb out of hell now, had gotten a good way up the ladder even. But I could still see the fires below waiting for me to slip. I knew how easy it would be to fall back into them. I woke up some mornings imagining how much simpler things would be if I didn’t ever have to open my eyes again. But then I thought about what my death would do to Triss, and I dragged myself out of bed and forced myself to keep moving until the urge to die faded.

I could see Jax fighting with that same suicidal impulse right now. Faran’s eyespy was a damned good one. I could read the rage and despair in Jax’s expression, could almost hear the voice in her head telling the Signet to go fuck herself, could feel her longing toward the peace of oblivion. The balance between life and death held for three long beats, and then Jax’s eyes fell.

“Damn you. . . .” she said. And then, a few seconds later, “Sshayar, let it go.”

The shadow tiger turned her head toward her bond-mate. “Jax . . .” But then she loosened her claws and the Storm popped free. “She’s just going to betray us in the end. You know that, don’t you?”

Jax nodded. “I do. But until that moment comes I still have a chance of finding us a way out of this.” She turned back to the Signet. “I’m going to kill you. It might not be today, it might not be next week, but I promise you the day
will
come. I will be the instrument of your destruction.”

The Signet just smiled. “You keep telling yourself that, my dear. As long as it doesn’t interfere with what I need you to do, you can harbor whatever little fantasies will get you through the day. Now, I need you to set up another meeting with the Kingslayer as soon as possible, and this time we’ll get him.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. We’re going to do things my way this time, the way I told you it had to work from the very beginning. That is, unless you
want
to kill a bunch more of your people? Because I could go for that, too. Every time one of you dies it makes the world a slightly better place. If that’s really your choice, just say the word. Otherwise, I’m going to turn around and leave now, and I’ll see you again in the Magelands in a couple of weeks where we will do this my way.”

It was Jax’s turn to smile, and if I’d been the Signet I’d have been backing away. But then, I’d seen that exact expression on Jax’s face in the past and I knew how much spilled blood it portended.

“Fine,” said the Signet, “we’ll do it your way, but if it goes wrong, the consequences will all be on you. Now, get out of my office. Oh, and have my leech patch up that hole I put in your side. I’m going to need you in top condition for this.”

“Fuck that, and fuck you. I got enough of that hurt us and heal us crap last time I fell into the grip of the Hand. At this point I’d rather die than let another one of your butchers touch me.”

“If that’s how you want to play things, it’s your lookout. You won’t find a better healer anywhere in Tien than mine, but you
will
find a healer and get that side patched up. I don’t give a damn about you as a person, but as an asset I need you in good health. Now, get out of here.”

Without another word, Jax turned and stalked toward the exit.

As she reached for the curtain, the Signet called after her retreating back, “Report in to the chief officer of the Sword of Heaven at Shan’s temple in Tavan when you arrive. She’ll have instructions telling you where and when to meet me after you contact her.”

Jax threw a rude gesture over her shoulder and stepped through the curtain. The instant it fell behind her, I snatched up the eyespy and hearsay and tucked them into my pouch.

“No sign of Kelos?” I asked Faran as I joined her at the clerestory pass-through a few seconds later.

She indicated the glyph designed to bring the house down. “Does it
look
like I blew up the warehouse?”

“No.”

“There’s your answer.”

“Awful child.”

“Old monster.”

I half expected her to demand that I give her a complete recap of what had happened then and there, but the professional killer had pushed the angry teenager aside once more. She didn’t say another unnecessary word between the warehouse and Jinn’s, a small cafe near the Ismere Library. It took us almost three hours to cross the two miles between the two because we more than doubled the distance traveled in an effort to prevent anyone from following us.

By the time we sat down on the riverside rooftop, I’d used every technique I’d ever learned to shake a hound off my backtrail. Of course, the hound I most feared had taught me the bulk of those tricks. It made for an itchy feeling right between the shoulder blades. That was half the reason I’d chosen to head for the cafe. Better by far to lead any hound there than home.

Jinn’s had its own tiny dock, and we’d arrived by hired sampan—our third boat ride of the night. That easy access to the water was one of the reasons I liked the cafe. Another was the rooftop seating, four stories up with a lovely view of the river. From our table, five running steps and a long drop put you in the water. Ten steps and a short jump in the other direction carried you up onto the chimney road.

A lot of Jinn’s custom came in that way, though the staff pretended not to notice since roof-runners mostly walked the shadowside and valued their privacy. The food ranged from good to damned good, with most falling in the latter range. Faran ordered a plate of fried rice with clams and scallops and a pot of tea. I opted for gingered whitefish served on a bed of noodles, and small beer. I wanted something stronger, but my recent indulgence had reminded me of where that would lead, and besides, it would take my edge off. Damn but I missed efik at times like this, when I wanted to calm down but stay sharp.

Faran rubbed her biceps through the sleeves of her gray silk shirt. “Do you think he followed us?” She looked even more paranoid than I felt. “That he’s out there somewhere watching us right now?”

“No. I don’t think so, no matter what my gut keeps telling me. The man’s good, none better, but even he’s not so good that he could have followed us through all that.”

Care to bet your life on it?
Triss whispered into my head.

Haven’t I?
Then,
Why, have you seen something I missed?

No. I even think you’re right. It’s just . . . Malthiss, and Kelos. How can I not worry about them?

“You’re doing it again,” said Faran.

“Doing what?” I replied.

“Going away into your head. You do it a lot, and sometimes when you come back you know things that you didn’t before. You’re talking to Triss when you do that, aren’t you? Mind-to-mind.”

I blinked several times while I tried to figure out how to answer that. As far as I knew, Triss and I alone among our peers had developed the ability to mindspeak. Certainly, the temple masters had always taught that such communication between human and Shade was impossible.

“Don’t try to deny it,” said Faran. “Ssithra and I have been discussing it for weeks now. That’s the only answer that makes sense.”

I nodded. “I guess I should have known you’d figure it out eventually.” Faran
had
become a quite successful spy after the fall of the temple. “It’s not exactly a secret.” It’s just that I didn’t entirely trust anyone but Triss.

“How did you manage it? And why not tell us about it?” She held up a hand. “No, wait. I want to hear about what happened with Jax first. That’s more immediately important, though I’ll want to know everything about the mindspeech, too. If you could teach us . . .”

“I doubt it,” I said. “The circumstances were
very
unusual, but you’re right, Jax comes first. But even before that, I want to know about how you stumbled onto Kelos’s trail.”

“You think he set me up to find that warehouse, don’t you?” said Faran.

“I don’t know, but if he put together that observation post he went to a hell of a lot of trouble to make it hard to spot. That he then left a shadow trail leading right to it strikes me as potentially suspicious.”

Faran shook her head. “I don’t think it was a setup. You saw the route we had to follow to get in. Three sail-jumps and a couple of spider walks, and none of it on main paths through the chimney forest. Kelos repeatedly went a good deal out of his way to cast no shadows on commonly trafficked rooftops.”

“So, how did you stumble across it?”

“It was the night after you vanished. I was searching along the edges of the river on both sides, hoping to find the place where you and Jax had come ashore. There’d been pretty brutal sun all day, so I didn’t have much hope of picking up the trail at that point, but I figured that with two Shades there was a slender chance.”

“What time was it?” I asked.

“About three hours after sundown. I’d wanted to go right at dusk, but Ssithra wouldn’t let me.”

“Why not?”

Faran blushed. “She insisted that I needed to get some food and a nap before I went back out.”

“Back out?”

“I’d spent some of that day looking around, too.” On the table, the shadows cast by Faran’s hand shifted subtly, and she jerked, letting out a small “ouch” sort of noise. “All right, I’ll tell it your way, there’s no need to pinch me.”

She looked down at the table and her blush deepened. “I hadn’t eaten or slept since I lost you in the flood. The only way Ssithra talked me into taking a break then was by pushing hard and insisting that with the sun gone, any trail would wait for a while.”

She glared at her shadow. “There, happy now?” Ssithra didn’t respond, but then, considering the relatively public nature of our current circumstances, the fact she’d done so much as pinching Faran was quite unusual.

When Faran looked up at me, I raised an eyebrow and she blushed yet again. The food arrived then, and we both went quiet for a few minutes—it’d been a long time between meals for both of us.

When she’d finished most of her plate, Faran continued, “Sorry. Where was I? Oh, right, sneaking along the riverbank practically under the Royal Docks, maybe a quarter mile on from where I’d left off earlier. Under any other circumstances we’d probably have missed it, but we were going over every inch of ground and paying extra attention. It was such a tiny scrap of shadow trail, no bigger than a silver riel, and not connected to anything.”

“Then how did you follow it?”

“We didn’t. Not at first anyway. We searched all around that first trace and couldn’t find anything, but Ssithra swore up and down that it had come from Malthiss. So we didn’t dare let it go. We didn’t want to leave off the search for you either though, so after about an hour of scrabbling around on the bank there, I marked the spot for later investigation and we went on looking for your trail.”

“But I’d been washed out to sea, so you didn’t find that either.”

“Exactly, though we kept on looking all through the next day. It was getting close to sundown then when we pretty much decided you and Jax had drowned.” She swallowed hard and reverted to looking like a frightened teenager for a few heartbeats before recomposing herself. Then she gave me a very hard look. “And don’t you
ever
scare me like that again, or I’ll cut your throat in your sleep and bury you out back just so I know where to find you.”

I smiled at her. “I’ll see what I can manage.”

“Don’t think I won’t do it,” she growled, but smiled shyly a moment later. “Anyway, we were just coming back past the place where I’d left that stone when it occurred to me how a bit of trail might have gotten out there on the riverbank all by its lonesome—it fell from the rooftops above. The long shadows made by the falling sun gave me the idea.”

She paused as our waiter brought us a plate of sweet butter biscuits for dessert.

She ate one while she waited for him to get out of earshot, then nabbed a second and continued, “We had to pinpoint where it came from, but that was easy enough once I’d figured out the mechanism. There was a gap between a couple of chimneys that lined up nicely with the sun and the stone.”

She paused. “You’re looking worried again.”

“It just seems like an awfully stupid mistake for someone like Kelos to make.”

“I don’t know. I looked around the rooftops there. It was a really tiny slip. You have to practically crab walk to get past that point without rising above the level of the roof peak, and the gap’s less than an inch wide. All it would have taken was for the back of his collar to flare the tiniest bit as he ducked past.”

“We’re talking about Kelos. His shirts probably address him as sir and ask before they wrinkle.”

“There’s that,” Faran said ruefully. “But how would he know I’d find the trail from a patch that tiny? It was already mostly faded when I got there.”

“Kelos
Deathwalker
.”

She sighed and nodded, then laughed. “He’s probably listening to this entire conversation, isn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t bet my life that he wasn’t, but you’ve got a point. If we don’t at least pretend that he’s not that good, we’re never going to sleep again, much less go home. All right, the man’s not perfect. He slipped up and it led you to that warehouse, which gives us a chance to get ahead of our enemies. So what do we do with it?”

“Depends, what happened with Jax?”

So I gave Faran everything that had happened at the warehouse after I sent her to keep an eye out for Kelos. Then she wanted me to tell her about what happened between Jax and me on the boat. I’d given her the brief version earlier, but she wanted the whole thing now. I skipped some of the more painful details about my conversations with Jax, but sketched in enough so that it didn’t feel like I was lying to Faran by omission.

“I guess that leaves me with one question,” said Faran.