Mel reached the end of the alley. There was a metal fence here, chin-high, and on the other side was the canal. The water rippled and gurgled, constantly in motion from the streams that fed it.
The canal was at least thirty feet across and Mel knew that it was deep enough to make her swim if she wanted to reach the other side.
Maybe I lost those things that attacked me, whatever they were, she told herself as she turned away from the fence. I hope so. I don't really want to test my swimming skills today if I can avoid it.
She walked slowly back toward the entrance of the alley, staying low and close to the wall. A tall lamp post at the mouth of the alley lit up the area, but it cast shadows that she used as she advanced. Except for the pile of discarded crates against the wall to her left, the alley was entirely empty of cover.
As she approached the opening, Mel heard a sound that made the hair on her arms stand on end. Something was growling softly, like the sound of sandpaper on metal. And whatever was making that sound was definitely not a dwarf.
What monsters has that witch unleashed now, Mel wondered as she stopped and froze in place. And do they know that I'm close?
Perhaps not. The growling was coming from the right of the alley entrance. It wasn't moving though, which made Mel think that the creature was simply waiting to see if she would come back out. Perhaps it knew that the alley was a dead end.
Well, I suppose I could use a refreshing dip, she thought wryly as she backed away from the opening. I wonder if those things can swim?
She waited another moment, but the growling didn't get any louder. She could only hear one source though and Mel wondered where the other things that had chased her had gone. Were they just outside of the alley, waiting for her? Or had they separated, unsure of where she was exactly.
Not willing to wait any longer, she retreated silently back down the alley until she reached the canal again. Without hesitation, Mel climbed the fence and stared down at the black, swirling water. She frowned at it and then shrugged.
“Well, this should be fun,” she murmured. “I hope it's not too cold.”
A scuffling sound behind her made Mel look over her shoulder just in time to see a shambled, lurching figure come into view. Whatever it was, it was covered in misshapen robes that hid its appearance and it staggered like a drunken thing straight down the alley toward her.
Mel felt a rush of fear at the sight of it. She looked back at the canal and leaped off of the fence into the dark water. Cold or not, its embrace was more welcome than that of whatever monstrous thing was chasing her.
She hit the water awkwardly and flailed around for a moment, trying to get her bearings. Old lessons took over and she managed to kick her legs and reach the surface. Her leather clothing immediately felt heavy and seemed determined to drag her to the bottom, but she battled against them and began to swim toward the other side of the canal. She shook her head to clear the water from her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.
Better to swim slowly and reach your destination than to panic and exhaust yourself, she remembered her father telling her. So that is what she did.
The sound of her splashing and heavy breathing masked whatever noises Mel's pursuer might be making, but she was sure that she would have heard the thing if it had jumped into the water behind her. Which meant that it couldn't swim and the sense of relief that she felt countered any discomfort caused by swimming in cold, turbulent water.
And the turbulence of the water was quite strong indeed. Mel had been aiming to reach the other side of the canal, but the lamp post that she had marked as her target slid past as she fought against the flow of the water. She gave up worrying about where she would emerge from the canal and concentrated on just reaching the other side.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Mel touched the low stone wall of the far bank and just held on to it for a minute, trying to catch her breath. She had no idea where she was in the city or how far she'd been swept along by the fast current. The feeling of relief that she had managed not to drown was enough for her at the moment.
Mel pulled herself out of the water, kicking her legs to help her climb the wall. Then she lay back and stared up at the distant ceiling of the cavern above her. She waited for her heart rate to slow down, breathing deeply. She hadn't forgotten that she was being pursued and that lying out in the open was a very bad idea. She had to quickly shake off the fatigue from her long swim if she wanted to survive.
Because it was the middle of the night for the residents of Cindercore, there was no one walking alongside the canal, which suited Mel just fine. She didn't feel like answering questions from strangers right now. Or the city guard. Fortunately the area that she found herself in seemed to be the warehouse district, not a neighborhood filled with homes, and she saw no sign of any patrols. At least not yet.
Mel pushed herself to her feet and grimaced at the squelching sound her boots made as she moved.
Ugh, I'm waterlogged, she thought distastefully. It'll take hours for my clothes to dry out.
Hours that she didn't have. Mel had already decided to swing back around and return to the guild-house. With whatever had ambushed her still in pursuit, it might be her best chance to try to reach Annia. But this time, just in case there were more creatures lurking and lying in wait, she would be more cautious.
Mel moved toward the nearest warehouse, out of reach of the light from the many lamp posts that ran along the streets. She tried to remember the layout of Cindercore. She had only visited the city a handful of times in her life, always with her father, and her knowledge was fairly vague.
She did know that the warehouses were all located in the southwest section of the city and that the guild-house was close to the eastern wall. Cindercore, like all dwarven settlements, was surrounded by a protective wall that was patrolled at all times. The deep places of the world were never completely safe, even for the dwarves.
I think that my best bet would be to circle around to the east rather than cut through the center of the city, she thought as she listened to the tip-tapping drips of water falling from her clothes. With luck, I'll be able to avoid whatever is chasing me.
She pushed wet strands of hair off of her forehead impatiently and looked around slowly. Nothing was moving and only the constant gurgle of the canal could be heard. Being careful to remain in the shadows, Mel took a deep breath and set off again, hoping that this time she would reach Annia undetected. At least now she knew that there were enemies looking for her. That gave her a bit of an edge. She hoped.
Annia Murdle had been the head of the Cindercore rogues guild for just over a decade. Her predecessor had retired after a long and storied career and had made sure to train her well before he stepped down. And for ten years she had served competently enough, or so she thought. But now, between the new threats that the return of magic had brought to the world, and the king's bastard son attempting to take his throne, Annia was feeling a little out of her depth.
She had warned Darlheim about certain suspicions she'd had concerning some members of her guild, but she had received no reply until a runner had visited, telling her that the old dwarf had been killed and that Hallic Barston was the new guildmaster. That shocking news had come two weeks earlier, just after she'd sent a second message to Kingstone to inform them that she had unearthed even more evidence of treachery inside of the guild.
And now she was sitting in her office in the middle of the night staring at a disheveled young dwarf who was wearing leathers that appeared to be two sizes too small for her.
“Leather tends to shrink when it gets wet,” the visitor told her ruefully.
“Aye, so it does,” Annia replied with a touch of amusement. “Going swimming in leather clothing is usually not recommended either.”
“Now I know why.”
Annia waved at a couple of chairs on the other side of her desk.
“Have a seat, Mel. You look like you've had a hard night.”
Mel sa
t down gratefully. She was feeling drained after spending several hours sneaking through the city, trying to avoid whatever had been chasing her. Somehow she had made it back to the guild-house without being spotted. She had been admitted by a guard after showing her guild insignia and giving the current password.
Annia had been woken up after Mel had told the guard that her mission was urgent, and now the master sat behind her desk staring at her visitor curiously.
“I was told that you have a message from your father?” Annia asked.
“Not specifically, no,” Mel replied. “But your last note said that you wanted to meet someone from headquarters face to face, so here I am.”
Annia nodded. Her hair was cut very short and gleamed like silver in the light from the lamp on her desk. She was thin and scarred and she looked alert and rested even after being roused abruptly from her bed.
This is someone that we want to keep on our side, Mel thought as she watched the master. And I hope that there are many others just like her in the guild. We'll need them.
“Yes, that is true,” Annia replied. “After we heard the news that Darlheim had been killed, the guild-house was thrown into chaos for a time. And during that short time of turmoil, one of my rogues decided that it might be a good time for a change of leadership.”
Mel sat up sharply.
“A change of leadership?” she repeated. “Do you mean that...”
“He tried to kill me, yes,” Annia said dryly. “It was a teaching moment for any others who might have followed his lead, I suppose.”
Mel sat back again, almost smiling at the master's tone.
“He's dead?” she asked.
“Oh yes, he is quite dead. And just to make sure that the lesson was learned by all of our members, I had his body displayed in the entry chamber of the guild-house for several days. I find that sometimes the direct approach works best.”
Mel did smile at that statement.
“Not very subtle, but effective, I am sure. Is that why you asked for a face to face meeting?”
“Partly. But another reason is that the guild is being watched at all times now.”
Annia flipped through a pile of notes on her desk and pulled one out. She offered it to Mel, who took it and scanned the parchment. Her eyes widened as she saw a crude drawing of a shadowy figure on it.
“What is this?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“We don't know,” Annia replied. “This was drawn by one of my people after she had spotted it lurking near the guild-house. That was just before I sent my last message to Kingstone. Since then we've seen several of the things, but only briefly. They appear and disappear like ghosts. No one has been able to get close enough to make out more details than that,” she added with a nod at the parchment. “I have to assume that they are a threat, but who sent them or what they are is anyone's guess. Any ideas?”
The drawing was done with charcoal and showed the outline of something wrapped in long robes. There was only a blank space where the face should be and Mel shivered as she relived her run-in with the creatures.
“No, I don't know what they are, but they are the reason that I took a late night swim earlier.”
Annia narrowed her eyes at Mel's reply.
“What do you mean?” she asked sharply. “You ran into one of them? I assumed that you got wet eluding the city watch or simply fell into the canal.”
Mel chuckled.
“Please give me more credit than that,” she told Annia. “No, it wasn't the watch. When I arrived in town several hours ago, I came straight to the guild and approached it openly. That was foolish on my part. I should have assumed the worst and moved more covertly. I won't make that mistake again in the future. But I was tired from the trip to Cindercore and got careless. The journey along the deep roads was particularly arduous, you see. The caravan that I was traveling with broke down several times on the way and so it took me longer than expected to get here.”
Annia raised an eyebrow and Mel smiled at her.
“The leader's mechanical skills left much to be desired and his machines were old and clunky,” she told Annia. “Unfortunately, trade between our cities is in decline and the caravan master told me that he and his family are barely making a living anymore. He's thinking about giving up and settling down in one spot. A shocking admission from a trader, I know, but there it is.”
“Our entire civilization is sinking into the dust of history,” Annia said, her voice tinged with sadness. “And I don't know if there is any way to stop it. I had high hopes when Shandon ascended to the throne, but with this traitorous son of his disrupting things, the king's plans to re-energize our trade routes and modernize the deep roads may never come to pass.”
She slapped the desk angrily.
“All the more reason to stop Corbin before he brings down the empire through his own greed and stupidity,” she exclaimed.
“Agreed,” Mel said as she put the parchment sheet back on the desk. “I'm guessing that he, or more likely the witch that is working with him, are responsible for these creatures. I was ambushed by several of them as I neared the guild-house. I retreated and spent a few hours avoiding them as I tried to get back here.”
She looked down at her ruined clothing and sighed.
“That's why I looked like a drowned rat,” she added.
“Better a drowned rat than a dead one,” Annia told her. “You did well getting away from those things. Any guesses as to what they could be?”
“None. I couldn't see past their coverings and I only heard one of them for a moment. It was growling.”
“Growling? Like an animal?” Annia asked, surprised.
“More unearthly than that,” Mel told her darkly. “I've never heard anything quite like it. It chilled my blood, as if I had somehow come in contact with something unnatural. That's why I believe that the witch that Corbin recruited is responsible for them, whatever they are.”
Annia settled herself into her seat. She was wearing a heavy knitted sweater made from a wool-like fiber that the dwarves harvested from mosses. She pulled it closer to her body and stared at Mel.
“That's the second time you've mentioned a witch. Who is this person? What can he or she do? I've heard nothing about them.”
“No, we've not mentioned her to anyone outside of Kingstone,” Mel replied. “But she is the reason that my father has made an alliance with the mages of Kingstone.”
“Oh, has he now? That's interesting.”
Mel chuckled at Annia's dubious tone.
“It takes a while to get used to the idea, I'll admit,” she continued. “Anyway, their leader, a dwarf named Larin Dunnor, told us about a young mage who delved into forbidden lore and was cursed by it. Her name is Cindra and she was twisted into an evil thing because of her foolishness, so much so that Larin now calls her a witch. She is very powerful and she has thrown in with Corbin. And I think that she is the source of those watchers.”
Sounds of people walking by the closed door of Annia's office, and a distant hum of conversation, signaled that the guild-house was beginning to wake up around them. Annia listened to the noises absently as she absorbed Mel's news.
“So the prince has a magic-user on his side now, and a powerful one at that,” she said softly. “That can only make things more difficult for us. What else can you tell me? We don't get a lot of news from Kingstone way out here in Cindercore. Being one of the most distant cities from the center of the empire leaves us feeling left out sometimes.”
“I understand,” Mel said sympathetically. “That's one of the reasons my father sent me personally to speak with you. I can tell you that the king now has a constant cadre of mages protecting him from any magical attacks by Corbin's witch. Her power is quite formidable, Larin tells us, and she now presents a direct threat to Shandon. As you might imagine, the presence of mages at court is making some of the courtiers there rather...uncomfortable.”
“I'll bet it is,” Annia replied with wicked grin. �
�I have little respect for the so-called upper classes, and most of our people feel the same way. We may take their contracts because they can afford to pay our fees, but they cannot buy our loyalty.”
“Perhaps,” Mel said dubiously. “But we have got to remain vigilant, especially now. Not all of our people are immune to the allure of riches and power, as the rogue who attempted to wrest control of this guild-house demonstrated.”
Annia shuffled her pile of notes, frowning down at them pensively.
“I know,” she said slowly. “We are neither saints nor sinners. We are rogues and we should be above politics and the machinations of the powerful.”
She looked sharply at Mel.
“But you're right. Temptations abound and the prince will undoubtedly try to co-opt some of our people. You can tell Hallic that Cindercore's guild-house is secure and that it will remain that way. But if he happens to have a spare mage who can come here and investigate those dark watchers, I'd appreciate it.”
Mel looked surprised.
“You would welcome magical aid? Truly? That's a very open-minded attitude, Annia.”
“Is it?” Annia asked with a smile. “Well, strange times and all that. Yes, if it would clear out those things, whatever they are, I would accept the help. After all, if they come from this Cindra person, they are a direct threat from the prince himself. Surely both your father and the king would like to show Corbin that his witch isn't as powerful as she claims to be. Destroying this threat would send a powerful message, don't you think?”
Mel stood up and dug into a pocket of her trousers. She grimaced as the shrunken material resisted her efforts and Annia put a hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter.
“Ugh, this is ridiculous,” Mel muttered angrily as she fought to force her hand into the pocket.
“I'll make sure to get you some new leathers as soon as our meeting is concluded,” Annia assured her.
“Thanks. Now if I can just...”
With a final thrust, Mel managed to reach into her trousers. She pulled out something wrapped in layers of linen cloth and groaned in exasperation.
The Dwarven Rebellion Page 17