The Glass Gargoyle (The Lost Ancients Book 1) (11 page)

The information that Cirocco was a dwoller had never even been rumored. And looking at the dead gray eyes currently appraising me, I figured I wasn’t going to be the one to spread it around.

Now no one had introduced the six-and-a-half-foot being in front of me as Cirocco, but there was something far too deadly in his eyes for him to be anyone else.

Something that had died long ago and came back now to drag others down to his own personal hell.

“Taryn St. Giles I presume?” His voice was far more cultured than I would have guessed. But it made him more deadly. And he even pronounced my family’s name correctly, something that rarely happened in this city.

“Yes.” That was helpful. Now I just needed to finish a sentence and tell him how I’d been duped. “I received a document—”

“I understand you received a fake decree inviting you to my employ.” He just talked right over me as if I hadn’t said anything. The tone wasn’t hostile, but it definitely let me know he was in charge. And that he hadn’t sent for me. “Alas, these things happen from time to time, someone playing a small joke. I apologize for your wasted trip.”

I waited a few seconds, then tried again. “I believe whoever sent me that used it to break into my house.” I tried to keep the stark relief out of my voice that he actually hadn’t sent for me. I may need money, and badly, but I’d rather be poor and alive.

The gaunt face peered even closer. “You believe I broke into your house?”

My entire life slow motioned through my mind.

“No, not at all.” Molasses moved faster than my brain at the moment. “I thought that perhaps you might want to know. That someone tried to use your good name. To break into my house.”

“They used this paper to break in by claiming they were from my house?”

“Well, no.” I hemmed on how much to tell him. “It was dropped off for me at the Shimmering Dewdrop. I think the paper was spelled. They used the paper as a portal into my apartment.” Out loud the words really did sound stupid. They did inside my head as well but I was the only one who had to hear them.

A keening sound filled the room. Sure some vile creature had been called down to rend me to shreds, I ducked down.

Only to see Cirocco laughing. The horrific sound was his laugh. No wonder dwollers couldn’t stand to be around each other.

“A spell in a paper?” He wiped a green tear away. “Your home was ransacked by people the size of the paper? How did they get in?”

There was no way I could tell him about Grimwold.

Either he was working with his hench wizard on this, or he was so far out of the loop that I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. There were rumors that Cirocco had some magic on his own, maybe he did know what was going on.

“I thought it was a bit odd myself, but my faeries sometimes drink too much.”

“Your faery told you that whoever broke in your house did so through a piece of paper? Are you sure they are the only ones drinking?” He tilted his head in thought. “Oh wait, you are magic numb, aren’t you?”

My shock, combined with a healthy dose of terror, must have shown on my face. Cirocco almost looked sympathetic. “Do not worry, my dear, I know how bad it could be if people knew you were a magic sink.”

The snowdrifts started building up in my gut again. My being magically numb was a closely guarded secret. People who were magic numb often found themselves used as fodder during war, or even minor disagreements between countries. Very few lived long lives. I had been told years ago that no one could tell, or rather no one lower than a level twenty magic user. Since those were mostly confined to the capital, no one should know my secret.

Yet Cirocco did.

Either he was the best disguised magic-user I knew, or he had some people far further up the food chain than Grimwold working for him. And they’d apparently been talking about me.

“Thank you. I must have been mistaken about the break-in.” When the major crime boss shows you one of his cards, and that card is against you, you bow, thank the nice man for your life, and flee the building.

I rose to my feet slowly, hoping that he would back up before I finished.

He did back up but only a step. I would still have to practically touch him to get out the door.

“I will have Fralkin show you back out.” He gave me a polite nod, but all I could see was the killer under those flat eyes. “Thank you for letting me know someone was using my good name.”

The door opened wider, and the front door thug waved at me.

“This ways, miss.”

I tried to open my mouth to say something polite as I passed Cirocco, but nothing came out. With a nod, I almost tripped on my own feet to follow the thug doorman.

The coal-tinted air of the city had never smelled as sweet as it did the moment I walked out that door. I thought about running down the twisting walkway back to the street, but that might just make one of the more predatory employees of Cirocco chase me. Not to mention he might be watching. I did, however, walk extremely briskly off the property.

Wonderful, the major crime boss of the city knew my secret. And made sure I knew he knew it. And most likely knew something about the spelled paper and the break-in. Running down the street screaming at the top of my lungs sounded good about now. Wouldn’t do anything except maybe get me locked up again, but it sounded like the only rational thing left.

Chapter 13

Deciding against testing another lockup by running down the street screaming, I let myself wander aimlessly instead. I didn’t have a patron. No bounty job. And for once my curiosity needed a break. Funny thing, I managed to end up at the Shimmering Dewdrop. My mind might not have known what to do, but my feet did.

The daytime regulars all crouched over the bar, muttering to each other. Took a few moments to realize they were playing a game of cards. An odd game, which included much swearing and flinging of cards over the bar, but a game nonetheless.

I nodded at Foxy and took up a seat in the corner. Most of my friends were part of the nighttime crowd. The day timers were mostly tiny old people of various races drawn together instinctively. As if no matter what town you went into, you’d find a group like them in the local pub.

“You look sad today.” Foxy slid over a plate of crushed cassabaa nuts and a tea. He knew I wouldn’t want an ale during the day, one of my rules even if I did spend a lot of time here. No daytime drinking.

“Just a lot of things have been going on, ya know?” I blew on my tea to cool it and popped some of the crushed nuts in my mouth. Their crisp, almost lemony flavor cheered me a bit. My world may be going to hell, but there were still cassabaa nuts around.

“I still need a patron.”

Foxy’s long face drew in on itself in confusion. He wasn’t stupid—his reactions were just slower than most folks.

“I thought Karys said someone had called for you?”

I heard the pause in his voice before ‘someone’. Karys would have known who was on that contract, and she would have trusted Foxy with that knowledge.

“Nope, someone’s idea of a prank.” Neither of us were going to say the name, a precaution I would have taken before most likely, but definitely would now. Someone in Cirocco’s ensemble had far more power than anyone knew. Names could draw unwanted attention.

“A prank?” One of his droopy eyes widened. “That’s a fairly serious one, think would I.”

“Yeah, unfortunately it means back to looking for another bounty job or two. I haven’t met my landlady’s cousin, but I doubt they are different.” Meaning sooner rather than later she’d be at my door sniffing for more coin.

Of course, Cirocco was one of the main folks to get bounty jobs from. At this point he was ranking right down there with Alric as people I wanted to be around.

I scooped out the last of the cassabaa nuts and dropped them in my mouth. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone else with bounties out?”

The scowl that slapped onto Foxy’s face was quick and fierce. Actually it was quick and comical if you knew him like I did. All someone would have to do to fight him off is step outside. His phobia of the outside world had been going on far longer than I’d been living in Beccia, and would probably continue long after I was gone.

“I know, I know. You don’t like my day job. But the fact is there’s a tiny furious dust ball that’s going to want some coins soon. If I don’t pay her, me and the girls come live here.”

Foxy’s skin was naturally a deep rust color, like an old well-worn leather chair. I did enjoy it when I could make him turn pink in fear.

“Exactly,” I said not waiting for him to comment. “Oh, and on another topic, have you seen a digger named Marcos around here?”

It was true, I really did need to set up a few more jobs. But I also wanted to find out more about my cowardly, albeit very good-looking, rescuer.

“Not that I can reckon,” Foxy said as he tugged on his lower lip in thought. “He be new here?”

I frowned. Harlan must have hired him from here, but Foxy didn’t know him? “He’s new, but I think he’d been digging for a bit before the shutdown. Tall, handsome, gypsy of some type.”

“Nope, doesn’t call up anything. Maybe the twins know. You know how jinns and gypsies like each other.” He turned just as one of the day waitresses brought him a steaming platter of meats and vegetables. “Never you mind about that now, first eat. Then find your man.”

I had to admit the food smelled good, and now that the whisky was out of my system for good I was even hungrier than I’d been at Covey’s. Besides, there weren’t many folks in the pub right now to question, and all three of the twins were absent. They were so determined not to be called triplets, I didn’t even do it in my head.

With a cheerful nod I settled in to do some damage to the food.

I was just eating a last bit of gravy-soaked bread when Alejandro came in. While unusual to see him alone, it probably just meant his brothers were out casing some joint. There was sweat on his skin. Ah. His legal job was as a bike rider—he peddled a small covered cart around for folks who couldn’t afford to hire a horse carriage but were traveling too far for walking.

With a heavy sigh he flung himself into a chair, briefly reminding me of Marcos. No wonder jinns and gypsies got along, I’d bet the bloodlines crossed more than laces on a wench’s bodice.

I debated letting him rest before I asked about Marcos, then decided getting him when he was tired would lead to more answers. Jinns lied for no reason but a tired one might be prone to lie less.

Alejandro’s deep rich brown eyes narrowed as I approached. It wasn’t that I didn’t get along with the jinn brothers—we were all on a mutual ‘I don’t trust you’ basis—it was that he was so used to Max being at his side he was uncomfortable when people approached him when he was alone. Abhijeet and he were rarely together, since even Alejandro didn’t like Abhijeet.

“Rough ride?” Better to start with small talk.

“Large couple wanting to go uptown, to The Hill. Money carriers,” he said with a sneer. Jinns liked moneyed folks, when they were relieving them of it. Otherwise they had almost a universal hatred of the rich. “Made me do a full lap of the big houses, then drop them off at one.”

That was unusual. Rich folks usually had their own carriages and crews, the pedicabs were for middle-class folks. Hopefully it wasn’t the start of a trend. More business would be good for most folks but jinns liked to do just enough to get by. And for some reason the pedicab drivers were almost all jinns.

“Sorry to hear that,” I said as I pulled up the chair furthest from him at the table. I wanted information, but I didn’t want to get too close to him. Safer for me and the few coins I still carried “I was wondering if you knew of a new digger in town, a gypsy.”

Alejandro froze, but didn’t look up. Curious.

“His name’s Marcos. Black hair, dark skin, tall?”

He finally looked up and an odd look flashed across his face. One I’d have to figure out later as it quickly turned into a leer. “A handsome man perhaps?”

Amazingly good-looking one actually, but honesty around jinns was bad form regardless of the topic. “Passable. I’d say most people would call him handsome. He helped me yesterday, then left before I could thank him.” I refrained from adding, fled like a screaming five-year-old girl. Clearly Alejandro knew the man.

“I think I may know him. He is a digger of renown as you say.”

I hadn’t said any such thing, there wasn’t anything renowned about him except his looks and his sprinting speed.

“He is usually about at night. He is working during the day.”

Working when the ruins had been closed? I wanted to ask Alejandro, but figured too much prying would cause him to do the same. Asking about who his patron was would be equally out of bounds.

With a sigh at the extreme lack of information I’d been given, I nodded. “Thank you. If you see him please tell him I’d like to thank him in person.”

The jinn’s eyes lit briefly when he thought I was going to ask for a favor. I may not have grown up in a town with jinns, but that didn’t mean I was stupid enough to ask for favors.

“If I see him I will tell him.” With that he returned to his drink. I was dismissed.

Muttering under my breath about cranky magical beings, I wandered back to the bar. Until I found a job or a patron I was sort of at loose ends. But I really should be doing something more constructive than sitting here.

“What do I owe you?” I asked Foxy.

As expected he just gave me an insulted look and shook his head. He had a soft spot for me, so when I had no job, I didn’t pay.

I leaned over the bar and planted a kiss on his weathered cheek. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And here,” he said as he slid a piece of scrap parchment toward me. “These three have calls out for bounty jobs.” He did it reluctantly, but he always managed to find me something. I never asked about his sources.

I thanked him and headed into the murky sunlight of a late-fall day. It had the threat of rain out and about, waving it like a child with a new toy. But the streets were still dry and filthy.

There were three names on the list, and none of them were anything to cheer about.

The first one was a known lecher, part dreg and part selkie and all slimy. Literally, not only was he an icky person, his selkie-half kept his skin clammy and damp.

The second one was a witch I’d done some work for a few years back. She was nothing but bad news. The collar she’d wanted me to get had been a drunken pixie with hygiene problems. Not only did I have to burn all the clothes I’d been wearing when I brought him in, the nasty witch paid me in coins that vanished. When I rushed back to her house she’d walked it off to another town.

The third was Largen. I sighed and looked at the other two names again. Maybe those choices wouldn’t seem so bad the second go around. They didn’t actually. They were worse.

Crap. I’d never worked for Largen, she usually being on the opposing side of Cirocco in the crime-boss hierarchy. But the two had supposedly made up and ended their turf war a few months ago. Then again the fact that two of her people had found Alric before I had, meant she and Cirocco were still looking for the same things. Or the same people.

I debated prowling around some of the low town dives and seeing if there were any other jobs. Problem was, Foxy would have only given me the best available. Which meant this was it. Pervert. Cheater. Or Largen.

Muttering under my breath, I crumpled the paper as I shoved it back into my pocket and turned toward Largen’s castle. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. I just hoped I didn’t come out of there looking like some unnatural creature. Or worse, not come out at all.