Fortress Draconis (36 page)

He moved to a tent where people—men mostly—were gathered around a hexagonal wooden platform that had railings around it. A man walked around the interior of the railings, alternately taking money from people and gathering stones from the center of the platform. The platform’s center had a huge hexagon painted on it, and it was filled with many smaller hexagons, most of which were painted one of eight different colors. A few had a patchwork of different colors in them.

Contestants would pay money, announce a color they were aiming for, and pitch a stone. If it landed fully inside the borders of an appropriately colored hex, they won double their bet back. If it straddled the line, their bet was returned. If they called and put the stone on a multicolored hexagon, they won four times their bet. Members of the audience wagered back and forth among themselves about various throws, making the whole of the tent a riot of conversation punctuated by cries of joy and groans of despair.

A man sidled up to Kerrigan. “Care to be betting?”

The Adept stammered. “I-I’ve never …”

“Oh, you’ll find the game is simple. You see, what you’ll be doing is …”

Kerrigan held a hand up and sniffed. “I know the game.

We play queek where I am from, but it’s a bit different there.“

“It is?” The man smiled in a friendly manner. “How so?”

Kerrigan returned the smile and pointed to the man on the platform. “Well, we’re not allowed to use magick to skew where the stones land the way he is.”

The riot of sound intensified around Kerrigan, then turned into a riot of fact as the audience surged toward the game’s owner. He started yelling, tossing handfuls of coins into the crowd. Half the people dove for the ground, grabbing up money. They generally impeded the other half of the folks who wanted to get their hands on the operator. The owner vaulted the railing and scarpered off, scattering money behind him like a farmer sowing seed.

The man who had spoken with Kerrigan grabbed his sleeve and pulled him free of the crowd. “This way. You don’t want to be part of that.”

Kerrigan stumbled after him, then nodded his thanks. “I didn’t mean to … I didn’t know… I’m not from here.”

The man smiled. “I can see that, but don’t you be worrying. Those of us what live in Yslin don’t be liking these cheaters to come to our festival and take advantage, you know? You’ve done a great service here, ah, your name is?”

“Kerrigan Reese.”

“Well, Goodman Reese, you’ve exposed a cheater.” The man extended a hand. “I’m Garrow, and being as how I’m from Yslin, I’d like to officially be thanking you for what you did.”

The Adept’s smile broadened. “You are quite welcome.”

“New-come to Yslin, are you?” Garrow folded his arms over his chest and frowned mightily. “I’m betting you’re thinking we’re just a lot of bumpkins, being as how we were fooled by that man. It’s not true, Kerrigan, not at all. I wish you could see the city the way I do. Being as how it’s my home, and a place I love, showing you about would be an honor. I’m sure, though, you’ve got more important things to do than to have a tour of our city.”

The man sounded so disappointed that Kerrigan immediately shook his head. “Actually, I don’t have anything to do. I mean, if you would be so kind …”

“Kind? Lad, you saved me money. Come on, come on along.” Garrow waved his arm high and strongly, then set off at a determined pace. Kerrigan caught up with him, having to lengthen his own stride to match that of the smaller man. They left the fairgrounds going west and reentered the city through a smaller gate than the one by which he’d left.

Garrow proved to be a wonderful guide. He explained that they’d come back into the city by Goldgate, which led straight into the richer section of town. They wandered past some wonderful buildings with ornately decorated facades. They then went through the temple district, with Garrow pointing out the various temples.

He indicated one that had columns that appeared to be tightly bound scrolls. “That’s the temple to Erlinsax, of course, keeper of Wisdom. I’d be going in there because they have a shrine to Arel; but I’m lucky enough having met you, I am.”

Kerrigan nodded, but the words really didn’t get through very much. Vilwan had no temple area. It wasn’t that the sorcerers didn’t believe in the gods, they just didn’t traffic with them. More precisely, they didn’t want the gods interfering when magick was being cast. Getting all the different aspects of spells in order was difficult enough without some pleased or vengeful godling getting in the way.

Beyond that, Garrow led Kerrigan downhill, toward an older section of the city. “It’s the heart of Yslin really, my young friend. Over there, to the east, you have Fortress Gryps, but here, in the Dim, you have things just as vitaL If you’re lucky, you might see a Vorquelf or two.”

Kerrigan smiled and almost started telling Garrow about the Vorquelf he’d seen on Vilwan, but that brought back a dark memory that slowly killed his smile. The Adept realized that night had full fallen and that as they moved deeper into the Dim, the section of town began to live up to its name. The lamplighters clearly hadn’t gotten this far on their rounds. Kerrigan started to ask Garrow if he wanted him to make a light.

He never quite got that far because another man stepped from an alley and blocked his progress. Moving out from the alleyway came other people, kids mostly, some as old as Larüka. Grime streaked their faces and caked their hands, and wiping either on their clothes would just make their flesh dirtier. The children spread out and surrounded him about the same time as Kerrigan recognized the man,

“Y-you ran that game.”

“I did, I did, and you ruined it for me.” The tall, slender man scratched at his pointed chin. “You’ll be paying for it, too. You’ve a fat purse, and it will be mine.”

Kerrigan dropped a hand to his purse to protect it. “It’s not yours.”

The circle tightened and ridicule pummeled Kerrigan. Garrow growled. “You’re a long way from home, boy. Give it over.”

“No.” Kerrigan pressed his lips tight together so no one could see them quivering. He didn’t want to cry, but fear raced through him. He knew he had to do something, and his first reaction was to lift the gameskeeper high into the air, as he had the pirate ship; but he knew that wasn’t a combat spell, and hardly would deal with all of them.

His thoughts had progressed no further when the first small fist slammed into his back, right over a kidney. Kerrigan’s thick flesh protected him a little, but the shock of being hit surprised him. He began to turn, then had a small stone glance off his head. He lost his balance and went down, then the kids closed and began kicking him, clutching and clawing at him. One of them tore his purse loose, raised it triumphantly, then left a gap in the circle as he took the prize to his masters.

Kerrigan knew he should have scrambled up and ducked away through that opening. He would have, too, but through it he saw someone he recognized. He didn’t know his name, but he’d been at Fortress Gryps for the opening ceremonies of the Council.He was dressed as an Apprentice.

The Adept looked at him. “Help me. Help!”

The young man stared at Kerrigan, and as two of the little ruffians turned to deal with that threat, he raised his hands. “Not my fight.” He ran off, and the pair of kids returned to kick Kerrigan harder.

Shocked at his abandonment, Kerrigan froze for a moment. The kicks and punches came faster and more furious, but without enough weight to do more than bruise him. Then someone grabbed his right hand and started to bend his fingers back. The sheer cold and calculated attempt to break his fingers roared outrage through him.

Kerrigan rolled toward his attacker, then rolled over him. He heard the kid scream, albeit muffled, then felt him struggle to get free. The Adept came up on one knee, unintentionally putting all his weight on the child’s ribs. The child shrieked as a rib cracked.

Garrow snarled, and his partner darted forward to deliver a savage kick to Kerrigan’s stomach. The Adept doubled over and would have screamed, but breath wouldn’t come. Panic exploded in him. He had to act, and quickly.

He raised his right hand and triggered the spell he’d been about to ask Garrow about. Pumping his fear and outrage into it, he intensified the spell. Instead of creating a soft little ball of light, a will-o‘-the-wisp to gently illuminate the night, his effort gave birth to a searing argent ball. It cast a circle of long shadows, in which people clawed at their eyes. Shrieks of pain accompanied its birth and undulated in intensity as the circle of attackers melted away blindly.

Kerrigan made the mistake of glancing at the light as it rose above his head, instantly blinding himself. He fell forward, onto all fours, trying desperately to get up and run, or force his lungs to expel the fiery vapors trapped therein, but he could do neither. He knew he must because his only hope lay in escape, and his attackers would not be blinded forever.

Then, suddenly, he heard a thump behind him and felt strong hands grab him around the waist. He was hoisted from the ground, then one arm curled around his back and shifted him onto his side. For a heartbeat he felt as if his weight had increased triple-fold, then he felt almost weightless before the impact of landing shook him. He was shifted around again, this time higher and bent at the waist.

By the time his journey ended, Kerrigan had figured out that he was being carried, and the familiar sensation of having been thrown over Lombo’s shoulder in the jungle had given him a good idea as to who his rescuer was. His fingers, playing along the Panqui’s armored flesh, confirmed the Adept’s assumption.

The journey stopped before his vision returned, and Kerrigan was thankful it had. Lombo had set him down on a stone bench that was tall enough that Kerrigan’s feet didn’t touch the ground. The young man leaned back and felt rough stones behind him, but just concentrated on getting his breath back. When his lungs had stopped burning, he opened his eyes and, for a moment, thought he was still blind because all he could see were pinpricks of light.

Then he realized those lights were the streetlamps from below.Far below! He grabbed the edge of the bench— which turned out to really be a ledge running around the upper reaches of Fortress Gryps—and pressed himself as far as he could back into the stone wall.

Kerrigan started to say something, but the calm and easy way that Lombo perched there on the ledge beside him somehow forestalled protestations of outrage. The Panqui clearly knew where they were and had chosen to bring Kerrigan to that place. The Adept took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

The Panqui nodded. “Slowbreath good.”

Kerrigan kept his eyes on Lombo, not wanting to look down. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Watch Kerrigan Lombo’s job.”

“You were watching me?”

Lombo gave him a quizzical look.

“Why did you do that?”

“Greywitch. Xleniki.”

“You were watching me all night?”

The beast nodded, then pointed from the tower to the fairgrounds and down along the winding path through the city. “Home. Fair. Trap.”

Kerrigan blinked his eyes. “You knew I was walking into a trap?”

“Man stalked Kerrigan. Kerrigan followed.” Lombo shrugged. “Others made trap.”

“And you didn’t stop them?” The young man’s lower lip began to quiver. Every bruise on his body started throbbing. “Why didn’t you stop them?”

Lombo lifted his chin proudly. “Hunter, not poacher.”

Hunter, notpoacher?Lombo’swords bounced around in Kerrigan’s mind. At first they seemed ridiculous, then a dim sense of them came to him. “You didn’t stop them because they were hunting me. I was their prey and you didn’t want to interfere with their, ah, kill.”

The Panqui nodded solemnly.

“But then why?”

“Kerrigan no prey.”

The Adept closed his eyes. After only a moment’s reflection he realized what had happened. As long as he had not defended himself, he had been acting as prey would. He had been a deer beset by wolves.The moment I fought back, though … “I made the light…”

Lombo smiled, exposing a sturdy array of fangs and rending teeth. “Prey no life, no friend. Lombo’s friend has help. Kerrigan kill easy.”

The young man opened his eyes again. Even though he had saved Xleniki, Lombo was willing to let him be slaughtered if he acted like prey.If lam too stupid to live, he will let me die. It made a weird sort of sense and Kerrigan found that sentiment an odd and distant echo of the things Orla had tried to teach him. Back on Vilwan, under circumstances where everything was controlled, he could do wonders. Out in the world, however, he was a child.

Kerrigan lifted a hand and gingerly touched the lump on his head. “Ouch.”

The Panqui nodded. “Elf magick.”

The Adept started to shake his head no, but thought better of it almost immediately. “No, not this time. Bruises will heal, and might remind me not to act like prey.”

“Kerrigan wise.”

“Kerrigan is learning.” He shrugged and looked over at his guardian. “I wouldn’t have killed them.”

“Kerrigan kind.”

“No, just not a killer.” Kerrigan smiled slowly. “My first impulse isn’t to kill. I can live with that.”

“Dead no fix.”

“Not any of the magick I know, anyway.” The Adept’s smile broadened. “Nor does the magick I know allow me to fly. So getting down from here will not be easy.”

Lombo’s jaw dropped open in a lupine grin. “Lombo get you home. On Lombo’s back, Kerrigan. Home we go.”

HIhe king has returned. As darkness began to fall over the I Dimandowns, and Will slipped into the night, shrouded 1 in an old cloak and self-confidence, the young thief’s world seemed to be returning to normal. He’d been in turmoil when running from Fortress Gryps. He had known from the start that Crow and Resolute were withholding some information from him, but he’d never have guessed that their secret could be so foul. Here he had been hoping he was a prince or heir to some power or something heroic like that.

Instead he found out he was son and grandson tosul-lanciri. He shivered. Thatmeckanshü Hawkins only had the shame of being the coward’s brother. Could have been they were only really half brothers, or that the coward had been adopted. Anything. Hawkins could distance himself from the coward easily.