Authors: Marc Turner

Red Tide (81 page)

“That's close enough,” Tia said to Peg Foot when he had closed to within ten paces. Her gaze was still on Ebon. “At least until I've seen these jewels you've brought.”

“Of course,” Ebon said.

He had to buy himself time now, so he scratched an imaginary itch on his leg, then pretended to fumble at the clasp of the leather case before finally pulling it open. They were all watching him, even the beggar girl. Just how he wanted it. With exaggerated care, he unfolded the case once, twice, three times to revealÂ â¦ nothing. The case was empty.

He looked at Tia.

She looked back at him.

Silence.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” Ebon said.

“What?”

“I seem to have left the stones behind.”

Tia stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. Then she bared her teeth and gestured. Around the common room, her minions drew their weapons. Peg Foot produced a knife from somewhere and held it to Rendale's throat. What little conversation remained in the room now died away. An overturned glass hit a table, and Ebon heard the
drip, drip
of spilled liquid falling to the floor.

Tia said, “I don't know what game you're playing, but it won't work.”

“You misunderstandâ”

“Let me guess, your reward from the Ruling Council included the hire of some soldiers, and they're on their way here now?”

“Please, you've got it all wrong.”

Tia's eyes burned. “You don't think I guessed you might try something like this? You don't think I've got men watching every damned road leading here?” Her voice shook with fury. “By the time your friends arriveâ”

“Please,” Ebon cut in, raising his hands, “I'm telling you the truth. I don't have any friends on their way.” Then he leaned forward and added, for Tia's ears only, “That's because they're already here.”

Before he'd finished speaking, a woman behind Peg Foot had grabbed the man's hand holding the knife at Rendale's throat and twisted it behind his back. A sweep of Peg Foot's leg, and he was on the floor, face pressed to the clay. Black Hair, meanwhile, took an elbow from another man that snapped his head back. He dropped like a stone. The tongueless man reached for his ax, but one of the women he'd been drinking withâthe twinsâhad already snatched it up. The other sister rose and delivered a kick to his forehead that sent him toppling backward in his chair. Around the room, Tia's other minions were being similarly disarmed and subdued by the Revenants.

Ebon had not moved. He was watching Tia. The woman sat upright in her chair. Points of color had formed on her cheeks. The muscles of her neck stood out as she swallowed.

“Well, this is a turn up,” Ebon said. “It seems your nose is sensitive enough to sniff out soldiers, but not mercenaries. Hardly surprising, since I've found these particular mercenaries to be an altogether superior breed. Allow me to introduce Twist, commander of the Revenants.” Twist sauntered in close and drained Tia's glass of spirits. “If you look hard enough, you might just be able to see him under all the bruises.”

Twist pulled Tia to her feet and patted her down for weapons, found a knife in her boot, and slung it away. “We ready to move?” he said to Ebon. “Seems a shame to turn in early, but I reckon we've outstayed our welcome.”

“The men she said were watching the roadsâ¦?”

“Dealt with.”

“Then let's go.” Ebon pushed back his chair and rose.

“What do we do with her?” Twist asked, pointing at Tia.

“Bring her with us. At least as far as the Canal Gate. She can be our hostage against her men's good behaviorâin case any of them think to try and follow us when we leave.”

The commander nodded, then looked at Vale. “You feelin' better, Endorian? Hope you ain't forgotten that duel you owe me.”

Vale grunted. “How could I, with you reminding me every quarter-bell? Though I
am
struggling to remember ever agreeing to it in the first placeâ¦”

Ebon stopped listening. He was looking at Lamella and Rendale. Rendale rubbed his neck where Peg Foot's knife had touched it, his expression pained. Lamella wiped her eyes. Whatever strength had sustained her since she'd fled Majack must have been leaching away, for she swayed on her feet, had to reach out to a table to stop herself falling. They were both watching him, and he looked at them in turn. Not the joyful reunion he'd imagined, but sometimes when you'd wanted a thing for so long, the reality couldn't live up to the expectation. He thought of all the ways he'd let Lamella down in his search, all the half measures he'd taken.

But his doubts melted away as she came shambling toward him. A faltering smile broke out across her face as she closed the distance between them and buried herself in his embrace.

E
PILOGUE

E
BON CONCENTRATED
on the distant presence. He felt a moment's disorientation as his spirit covered the leagues separating him from Luker Essendar, then blinked and found himself looking out through the other man's eyes.

To find a fist swinging toward him.

He tensed.

Luker was already raising an arm to block. He retaliated with a right cross that thundered into his attacker's chin and sent him reeling. More figures swarmed about him like bees round a honeypot. There was a fireplace to his right, crude tables and benches. A common room, then.

Ebon spoke in Luker's mind. “I've caught you at a bad time.”

If the Guardian was surprised to find the prince in his head, he gave no indication. “Just give me a moment.” He'd gotten a woman by the neck and was holding her at bay. She couldn't reach him with her punches, but that didn't stop her from flailing about, her teeth bared, hissing in fury.

“I don't think she likes you,” Ebon said.

“Oh, you noticed.”

Luker grabbed her between the legs with his free hand, then lifted her up and hurled her across the room. She landed on a table, and it collapsed with a crack sending glasses and tankards flying.

“Do you mind?” said a woman's voice from out of pictureâJenna's? “Some of us are trying to have a drink here.”

Luker scowled. “Do you think you could save the wisecracks for later, maybe give me a hand?”

The next man was on to himâa bald man with bloodshot eyes and drooping jowls. The Guardian swayed back from a punch, kicked his attacker in the groin. Baldy doubled over. A thrown tankardâJenna's?âthunked into his head, spraying ale. His eyes clouded.

Luker shoved him into the path of a woman coming up behind. “This about Parolla's mother?” he asked Ebon. “Shroud tell you where she's been reborn?”

Ebon nodded. “One of his disciples just paid me a visit.”

Luker must have heard something in his voice, for his expression darkened. He picked up a chair and broke it over a man's head. “I'm not going to like this, am I?”

“No,” Ebon said. “No, you're not.”

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many thanks as usual to my editors, Marco Palmieri and Natalie Laverick, and to my publicists, Ksenia Winnicki and Lydia Gittins, for their efforts in promoting this book and the series as a whole.

I should also say thank you to the readers who have gotten in touch to share their thoughts on my books, or recommended them to others. I am grateful as well to the bloggers and reviewers who have hosted me for interviews or guest posts, and thus helped to provide a signal boost for the series. Particular thanks are due to Wendell Adams and Bob Milne who were beta readers of this book, and who came up with some very useful comments to help me fine-tune the manuscript.

Finally, thank you to my wife, Suzanne, for her support, advice, and encouragement. I really couldn't do this without her. And thanks to my son, James, for being his wonderfully entertaining self. This book is for him. I'm looking forward to the day when he will be able to read it.

BOOKS BY
MARC TURNER

When the Heavens Fall

Dragon Hunters

Red Tide

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

MARC TURNER
was born in Toronto and grew up in England.
Red Tide
is his third novel, following
When the Heavens Fall
and
Dragon Hunters
. You can sign up for email updates
here
.