The Tower of Bashan (12 page)

At least she was telling the truth about that.

It took her the better part of an hour to jog back to the room she and Rondel rented. She entered via the third story balcony shielded from prying eyes in a narrow alley rather than drawing attention to herself by walking through the front door where people would wonder about her early arrival. She slipped inside the window and found Rondel sitting at the room’s lone table, scribbling away with quill and ink.

“Have you even moved since I left?”

“Twice,” he said without looking up. “Both times to use the chamber pot if you must know.”

“And?” she asked, eager to hear his progress on how to get onto the princess’s guest list.

“And I felt much better each time. Thanks for asking.”

She cuffed him.

“Hey! I’m in the middle of something.” He scribbled some last note, punctuated the end of the line with a hard dot, then set about removing the excess ink from the quill with a small piece of cloth. “How about you go first?” He blinked rapidly, while taking in the first rays of morning that lanced down into their room. “Gods, it’s bright. Close the curtains first, will you?”

Andrasta drew the thin curtains and took a seat across from Rondel on the edge of the bed. Unlacing her boots, she began. “She stays in the third floor of a dump in the Low District. I don’t know how the building is still standing. The walls are in such bad shape you can see right into some of the rooms without a window. I got some information about her from a couple people who thought to grab hold of me. She lives alone with an older man named Kunal. She calls him uncle, but there is some question whether they’re related. They apparently look nothing alike.”

“That means nothing. We’re half-siblings after all.”

Andrasta snorted. “Anyway, the uncle is hooked on opium. Keeps trying to quit, but it never sticks.”

“How does he get money for that?”

“However, he can. Sold himself to some pusher not too long ago from what I heard.”

“That’s a shame.”

Andrasta really didn’t care about what the uncle did. It was his life. “The girl has been recently accepted into a big crime syndicate.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Which one?”

“Beladeva’s.”

Rondel frowned. “Name doesn’t ring a bell. He must have taken over from someone else that was in power when I last came here. Not surprising. Those guys aren’t known to die of old age.”

“You think Beladeva’s setting us up through the girl?”

“Maybe. Though I’m not sure how. No one knows who we are except the girl and that’s by accident. We should still find out more about this Beladeva to be on the safe side though.”

Rondel paused. His eyes seemed distant, almost glazed over. Andrasta took that for a good sign. It usually meant he had something brewing.

He focused on her again. “I’ll have to think more about the angles. In the meantime, let’s not bring it up to her just yet. See how things play out first. What else?”

“Not much. She got up early and went to the palace like she said she was going to do.”

“And got inside?”

She nodded. “I came back here after that.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what she learns before our next meeting.”

Andrasta gestured to the parchment Rondel had scribbled on. Each paper barely looked as though it had any space left to write on. Arrows had been drawn all over the sides, connecting each set of notes with another. “Well?”

He sighed. “There’s still a few holes here and there that I won’t be able to work out until later, some of it is dependent on what Lela discovers. The meat of the plan is ready.” He stood and stretched. “A lot to do in a short amount of time.”

Andrasta put her boots back on. “Then we better get started right away.” She reached over and grabbed his boots, tossing them into his gut. He caught one, but fumbled and dropped the other. It clacked against the floor.

“Are you crazy?” A yawn burst from Rondel’s lips. “We’ve both been up all night. I’m exhausted.”

“So am I, but we can sleep later.”

“We can sleep now just as easily. Just for a couple hours.”

She paused with her laces and gave him a look.

“Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”

A few minutes later they left the inn.

“Where are we going first?” asked Andrasta.

“Stables.”

“I checked on Jewel and your mount last night.” It bugged Andrasta that Rondel refused to name his horse.

“We’re not looking for horses. We need a carriage.”

“What for?”

Rondel smiled. “I think I’ll keep that to myself. I don’t want you questioning every bit of the plan until you fully understand what I have in mind.”

* * *

Lela left the palace frustrated in more ways than one.

As Chand had instructed, she found her contact, a small boy near her age in the kitchens. Without speaking, he led her through half the first floor of the palace and passed her on to a young woman near twenty. The young woman passed her on to a middle-aged man who walked like he’d sat on a long tent pole, back erect, hips thrust forward. However, it didn’t end there. He passed her on to another contact. With each person she met, she realized just how many people Beladeva had managed to work inside the palace.

Ears everywhere.

Thrice more she was handed off. At last, an old woman with a shriveled face that looked like it was collapsing on itself due to her magnitude of wrinkles and her perpetual frown gave her the first lesson of the day.

Lela had tried to introduce herself, but an open-handed slap to her face had cut her off. Her hands instinctively bunched into fists, and that was met with another slap. “To knock the fight out of you,” the old woman named Seeta had said.

Lela’s fight never left her.

She was not so stupid to fight with one of Beladeva’s other spies though. She inferred from Seeta’s grumblings that the old woman felt threatened by Lela’s presence. As a result, Seeta made sure Lela spent the day scrubbing floors, walls, and anything else that would put her as far away from Princess Mira as possible.

Not even so much as a glimpse of her. I need to think of something. I can’t fail.

Thankfully, her first report wasn’t due to Chand yet.

But there is Rondel and Andrasta.

She cringed thinking about what their reactions would be when she gave them nothing of value.

* * *

Andrasta and Rondel exhausted the better part of the day running around the city, spending freely their coin from previous work in Erba. Some things they bought seemed trivial on the surface, but according to Rondel all would come together in the end.

Andrasta was tired and irritable, first at Rondel for toying with her about the details of his plan, and now because Lela had brought them nothing.

Even the water gardens, which she admitted to herself were beautiful, did little to stifle her burgeoning anger. In fact the sculpture they stood before, a depiction of the ancient Kindi hero, Erjan, who slayed a pack of wolves with his bare hands to rescue a little girl from death, only fed her poor attitude.

Why do we only see or hear about the positive aspects of heroes? No one is that pure. Show me a statue cheating at dice. Or one drunk and acting like a fool.

“I’ll get the information as soon as I can. The princess was busy with tasks outside of the palace apparently and there were . . . other obstacles. I’ll have better luck tomorrow, I promise,” said Lela.

“Tomorrow? You assured me yesterday that we’d have most, if not all, the information today. You said the party is two weeks away. One day makes a huge difference,” said Rondel.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I need those answers. We’ll meet here again in three days. You have until then.”

“Three?” asked Andrasta.

“We’re leaving Bashan for a little while.”

“What? Why?” asked Lela, looking worried.

“Its part of the plan,” said Rondel. “If we’re going to get on the guest list then we need to be people we’re not. And we’ll need to make a grand entrance. It’ll take a few days to get everything in place.” He paused. “That’s if I can get the last couple pieces rounded up.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked Lela, obviously wanting to do something more to contribute.

“Get the information we asked for.”

“Besides that.”

“Not unless you know the name of a good tailor used to meeting tight deadlines,” He turned to Andrasta. “C’mon, we don’t have much daylight left.”

“Wait,” called Lela. She hesitated. “I do know someone. He’s one of the best I’ve ever seen. In fact, he once designed outfits for the rulers of Vidish when he lived there.”

“Then how do you know him? And more importantly, why is he available?”

“He moved to this part of Kindi, hoping to feel more appreciated. However, he fell on hard times and . . .”

Rondel’s eyes narrowed. “Is this someone you’re trying to help out?”

She hesitated. “My uncle.”

The addict.

He paused. “We don’t have time for charity cases.”

Andrasta frowned at his harsh manner.
He’s under more stress about this than I realized.
In a way, that relieved her. It meant he was focused.

“I know,” said Lela. “But I promise, he’s really good.”

“Can he meet us here tomorrow morning? At dawn.”

“I think so.”

“If he’s here, then we can talk to him before we leave the city. If I like what I hear, we’ll use him.”

“He’ll be here.”

Rondel spun away and started walking toward the exit of the water gardens.

Andrasta came up beside him. “You were pretty harsh with her.”

“I’m tired. We’ve got a lot to throw together, and I’m already worried that we’re relying too heavily on her. She’s young and too much of an unknown. If she wants to be part of this, then she needs to pull her weight.”

Andrasta grunted. She agreed with every word Rondel said, many of them echoing her own thoughts. She was glad to see him taking things so seriously. “What happens if she can’t get the information we need?”

He blew out a deep breath. “We continue with the plan. The information is important, but not so crucial we can’t succeed without it. It would just make things easier. A lot easier.”

* * *

Lela shook her head.
What was I thinking?

She already knew the answer. Rondel and Andrasta’s disappointment in her stung. She wasn’t sure why she cared so much about the opinions of relative strangers. Maybe it was because their success would get her out of Beladeva’s grasp and help Kunal. Or maybe it was because they had done a kindness to her and she wanted to return the favor.

So what do I do? I volunteer someone who is likely sitting in our apartment, high and barely conscious. Someone who will make me look even worse for not showing up.
Her stomach knotted.
What if he hasn’t even made it back?

That thought lingered with her the rest of her walk, continuing with the slow climb up the stairs of her building. At the top, she breathed a deep sigh, grasped the door handle, and stepped in.

Kunal stood before the lone window, gazing out and relief washed over her. He turned toward Lela wearing a smile. The smile took her back. When he first rescued her as a little girl, Kunal smiled all the time. Even in her most sour of moods, his smile would brighten her heart and lift her spirits. However, as he had gotten caught up with drugs, the smile rarely made an appearance, and usually it was accompanied by a sense of wistfulness, of loss.

But this is different.

“Hello,” he said. His voice sounded weak, even a bit shaky, but it was his own, not slurred or altered.

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried,” she snapped, closing the door and walking toward him. As she neared, she saw that not only did he sound weak, but he looked weaker too, half hunched over.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to worry, but I had to do this on my own.”

“Do what? I thought you went to sell yourself somewhere else so I wouldn’t know about it.”

He hung his head. “No. Though admittedly that’s how it started. I left when the withdrawals were at their worst. I wanted something to take the edge off. Just a little. But I remembered that hurt look in your eyes. You were disgusted with me. And most importantly I remembered what you said about working for Beladeva and the risk I forced you to take so you could provide for us. I was the one who swore to protect you. Yet, you actually bought opium to protect me. It was too much.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’ve been gone for so long. I thought you might have died.” Something wet ran down Lela’s face. She wiped at her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

Kunal reached out with thin arms and drew her close. “I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. Not just for this, but for everything. I needed some time alone. Time to think. Time to face some of the demons inside me while sober. Something I hadn’t done in a while. While getting through the worst of the withdrawals, I think I figured out how to start managing those demons. I’m not so naïve to think that this will be an easy recovery for me, but I promise you I will not touch opium or anything like it again.”