Gloomwalker

by Alex Lang

  “Jahna,” she offered.

  Caldir gave a warm smile. “It is a pleasure meeting you both. May I be so bold as to inquire your relation to Kyris?”

  “No,” Kyris replied but then sighed in resignation, recognizing that he was being willfully difficult. Any attempt to keep them uninvolved at this point was futile. “They are my sisters.”

  “Ah, family.” Caldir’s smile widened. “How very fortunate you are, Kyris. Please, eat and drink.” Caldir gestured to the tray. “A small token of my apology.”

  Kyris frowned at the food. The effects of the urdor leaves had worn off. He was never one to pass up a good meal, but the pulsing pain of his hand had killed his usually voracious appetite.

  “The figs are just the perfect ripeness, and the meat buns are a delight,” Caldir offered as Tasi perused the offerings.

  Kyris picked up his cup of kef and stared at the green liquid with suspicion. His throat ached with thirst, but he’d never been fond of the drink.

  Noting his scrutiny, Caldir said, “I assure you, it is just kef.”

  Kyris scrunched his nose at the pungent smell. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He threw back the cup, downing the sour liquid in one gulp, then grimaced.

  “My apologies. I can arrange for something else. Wine, mead, water?”

  “No, never mind. Let’s get on with it.”

  Caldir settled back in his chair. “Of course. First, I want to extend my most sincere apologies for earlier tonight. Things spiraled out of control. I suspected you to be a scion, and this was my way, admittedly flawed, of drawing you out. I am no hound of the Imperium, I can assure you.”

  “What of this?” Kyris asked, waving his wrapped hand and regretting the gesture instantly. Any movement caused the throbbing to intensify to the point where he felt as though something would burst.

  “Ah, yes, Sandamar. It’s a long story and not my place to share it, but, suffice it to say, he is an outcast from the Order. He is no more working for the Imperium than you or I.”

  Kyris mulled over what was said. An outcast? A convenient explanation, but could it also be true? He had been too preoccupied to consider the possibility.

  “Sandamar was there tonight as a favor to me,” Caldir continued. “It is rather difficult to kill a fleshmender, as you can now attest, and we thought he could push you to use your gift. He was never trying to kill you. Not truly.”

  “He had me fooled,” Kyris muttered, but Caldir’s words rang of truth. It explained the big man’s strange behavior during the fight.

  “Any harm done was not planned but rather an impetuous reaction. You did stab him in the heart. Or very near, in his case.”

  Tasi coughed out the kef she was sipping.

  "Oh, for gods’ sake, I thought the madman was trying to kill me," Kyris exclaimed.

  “Again, my apologies for the whole farce. But Kyris, your ability… I’ve never seen, heard, or read of such, and well, at the risk of being immodest, I’m rather knowledgeable on such matters.”

  “Are you an acolyte of the Path?” Kyris asked in a patronizing tone.

  Caldir laughed. “No, not at all. Knowledge of the past is not the sole purview of those who follow the Path. The truth is there for any who would seek it.”

  Kyris frowned. He was the furthest thing from a devotee of the Path of Divine Flame, but it was hard to deny what they preached when the evidence of it was all around them. One just had to gaze up to be reminded. Even with the nightspawn, Kyris had seen the truth of what they exhorted against.

  “Don’t mind me,” Caldir said apologetically. “As to your ability, if you could explain exactly—”

  “No,” Kyris interrupted, and finally he saw a flash of annoyance in the man’s eyes.

  “It would help greatly for me to determine the source—”

  “No,” he repeated. Source? Was the man addled? What other source was there for such dark powers?

  Jahna tensed, her hands curling into tight fists on her lap, and Tasi suddenly found the room’s decor to be of the utmost interest.

  After a long pause the smile returned. “Very well,” Caldir said. “The night has been quite the ordeal, and I am sure you are in a lot of pain. Let us move past the subject of your gift… for now.”

  Gift. Kyris always took umbrage at the term. The Gloom seemed more curse than gift. He had to admit, no one forced him to go to that darkened realm, but what it had ultimately brought about was nothing but ill. Caldir considered himself a scholar of scions, but it was one thing to read about them, another entirely to see and feel the touch of the wraiths. How would Caldir react if the source of his power was revealed?

  Caldir sipped from his cup and sighed in apparent contentment at the taste and quality of the drink.

  Kyris was growing tired of this game. “What was the purpose of all this? You went through a great deal of trouble to uncover my ability even before you knew what it was. Why? Just to have a scion to use?”

  Caldir took sometime before answering. “Put simply, yes. You are a rare breed, Kyris. And I am not referring just to your unusual ability. I speak of the combination of someone with your skills and your healthy disregard of Imperium laws, in conjunction with your lineage. How many scions like you do you think I come across? And of those, how many wish to stay in the city, under the nose of those who would imprison or enslave them if given the opportunity? Very few, I can tell you. It has taken many years to gather together the allies I do have. Why the effort? Why risk the wrath of the Imperium? Well, there is more to our little syndicate than simple profit.”

  Kyris didn’t know what more there could be to a criminal organization, but Caldir had become animated as he spoke, the most spirited Kyris had seen of the man.

  “Perhaps that is a conversation best saved for a different time,” Caldir said. “It has been a long night, and I am sure you all are weary. I have readied accommodations.”

  “Wait, where do we stand?” Kyris asked.

  “Well, I am intrigued by the nature of your ability and would like to learn more. Outside of that, I do not see why our earlier agreement would not still hold.”

  Kyris looked to Jahna and Tasi. Both had stayed silent throughout the exchange, and he hoped they would remain so as he tried to steer Caldir towards his goal. He feigned a troubled expression. “My ability is known. I’ve taken great care to never reveal it. I think it would be safer that we leave the city. If the keepers were to learn of it…”

  “Only Ellse, Sandamar, and myself know of your ability. We have told no one, and nor will we. My men don’t know why we stopped you, and nor do they care. Nothing need change. Our deal should stand, do you not agree?” Caldir leaned forward. “You do still have a debt to pay off.”

  “I can pay the debt, right now.” Kyris felt smug satisfaction at the slight note of surprise in Caldir’s eyes.

  “You have the means to settle the debt?”

  Kyris nodded.

  “Then why did you agree to be in my employ?”

  “I have other need for the tals”

  “I see… And you no longer have those needs?”

  Kyris looked to his sisters again, then turned back to Caldir. "Can we confer?"He gestured to the girls. “Alone?” It was time he brought them in on his plan.

  "Of course. I will be in the outer room. Just call out when you are finished."

  Caldir left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Kyris leaned in towards the girls. “Thoughts?”

  “It’s clear he’s hiding something,” Jahna said.

  “That seems the case for us all. Perhaps this was for the best. It accelerates the plan. I’ll simply ask for an introduction to the Whisperer now in exchange for something he wants.”

  Tasi laid her hand on Kyris's arm as if to taper his enthusiasm. “I have to admit, he seems a very pleasant enough man, and earnest. Not what I had envisioned of a… crime lord, but are you sure you can trust him?”

  Kyris placed his han
d on top of hers and squeezed. “You two are the only ones I trust, and tonight only further reinforces that. As it’s the norm with work of this sort, it’s about what is mutually beneficial. He will use me as I will use him. Also, he hasn’t resorted to threats, which is what I would have expected from someone in his position.”

  Jahna scoffed. “He orchestrated a situation that placed you in danger, to verify a hunch he had. He may be above threats, but don’t think he’s above carrying out any action that would allow him to obtain his goal, whatever they may be.”

  “So, you would have me pay the debt and leave, to start all this over again? And you know I would have to.”

  “You’re assuming he will accept the payment and allow us to leave. But yes, that would be exactly what I would like us to do. But worry not, brother. I know you will not, cannot do that, and I will vex you no more on this matter. Make your deal with Velza,” Jahna said, referencing the Bargainer of Souls from the Old Ar’Razi faith.

  He stared at Jahna’s veil for a long moment, then turned to Tasi. “What do you think?”

  “You no longer think Caldir is working for the Imperium?” she asked.

  “No. If he were, we would all be in chains right now, or worse.”

  Tasi glanced back and forth between her siblings, her face troubled as if Kyris had asked her to pick between the two. And in some way, perhaps he had.

  “I think you should do what you think best,” she said.

  “Good. I’ll entreat him for the introduction, and in exchange I will perform a task of his choosing. Really, no different from before but with the terms more defined.”

  “How do you know if Caldir will honor the bargain?” Jahna asked. “Or if he’s even capable of doing so. Perhaps he doesn’t know the Whisperer.”

  “He has to. Or he knows someone who does.” Kyris paused, realizing how desperate he sounded. “Nothing is certain. But what choice do we have? I’ve failed to locate Kathmor on my own. Caldir is our best hope to get to the Whisperer, who is our best hope to Kathmor. It’s all a toss of the die and up to Shar’s whim.”

  No one spoke and, after a while, Kyris took the silence as reluctant acquiescence. As he stepped towards the door, he saw the bell that Caldir had used earlier sitting on the table. He picked it up and rang it.

  Several moments passed, then the door opened and Caldir stepped in. He looked at Kyris with an unreadable expression.

  “I assume you do not need more tea?” Caldir asked.

  “No, we’ve come to a consensus.”

  “Very good.” Caldir gestured for Kyris to sit and moved towards his own seat, but Jahna stood abruptly.

  “It has been a long, tiresome day. If it’s not too much trouble, I believe accommodations were mentioned?”

  Tasi, caught off guard, stood also, glancing between Kyris and Jahna.

  “Of course, ladies.” Caldir ran the bell again and summoned the attendant. “Wilen will show you to your rooms. Sleep well.”

  They waited until Wilen had escorted the two from the room, then took their seats.

  Kyris was silent, distracted by Jahna’s mood.

  Caldir cleared his throat.

  “The deal still stands but with some additional conditions,” Kyris said.

  “It is rather bad form to add new conditions once an agreement has been reached.”

  “I feel it’s not undue, considering recent developments.”

  After a long pause, Caldir nodded. “Go on.”

  “Our previous agreement was too undefined. The payment for each job was solely determined by you, and it is in your best interest to offer a low compensation. I simply wish to better detail the agreement.”

  “Are you suggesting that I would not properly compensate you for a job done?”

  Kyris shrugged. “What would be my compensation for tonight’s job?”

  Caldir smiled. “Yes, all right. Insinuation of my bad character aside, why did you accept the agreement, then?”

  “As I’ve stated, I have the funds to pay the debt, but they’re reserved for another purpose.”

  “I see. What are you suggesting now?”

  “The new deal is one job, any you choose, and the debt is cleared. And… you introduce me to the Whisperer.”

  Caldir arched his eyebrows at this, but remained silent.

  “The job can be of any nature, but I can refuse if I feel there's no chance of success. I will not accept an impossible task.”

  “I am to clear a debt of ten thousand tals and connect you with the famed broker of secrets. What possible singular task would warrant such a payment?”

  “That is for you to determine.”

  “I think the stipulation on the impossible needs to be removed, in that case.”

  “You might be surprised by what I can accomplish.”

  “As fascinated as I am by your ability, I would assume it has its limits, given how well you performed in your most recent assignment for Marlek.”

  Kyris winced, but he held firm. “Payment only upon completion. If I fail, you lose nothing.”

  Caldir steepled his fingers under his chin. “The Whisperer peddles arcane knowledge and secrets, and they do not come cheaply. I see now why you need to hold on to your funds.”

  Kyris didn’t reply. He wasn’t going to give Caldir any more information than necessary.

  “You are assuming I can make the introduction.”

  “Can you?”

  Caldir smiled. “I can.”

  Kyris did his best not to let the relief show. That was one obstacle cleared, assuming Caldir was being truthful.

  “Perhaps I can be of service regarding whatever it is that you wish to know.”

  “You?”

  “I am well-connected. No Whisperer, but my business necessitates quite the network of contacts of my own.”

  “I…” Kyris hadn’t considered this possibility.

  “What information did you wish to acquire?”

  “I wish to locate someone.”

  Caldir nodded. “Setting that aside for now, there are other issues with your proposal.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “What if every task I present, you find to be insurmountable?”

  “I wouldn’t,” Kyris said, taken aback. “As long as the task is within reason, then I will accept it. I’m not here to waste your time, or my own. I want the payment as much, if not more than you wish any task performed.” He immediately regretted saying the last.

  “Yes, perhaps. But the truth of the matter is that I do not currently have a job that would warrant the payment you want. Now, I do have a suggestion. Three tasks. A third of the debt for each task performed and, upon completion of the third, the introduction to the Whisperer as you wish or letting me make the attempt at obtaining what you want.”

  Kyris shook his head. “No. One task, one payment.”

  “I am not sure that is acceptable.”

  “Then I will pay the debt and be off.”

  Caldir leaned back in his chair. “Certainly. You can cut ties with me and… all my associates.”

  Kyris noted Caldir’s pointed look at his cloth-wrapped hand. “You would withhold the healing you’ve promised?”

  Before Caldir could reply, the door opened and Wilen stepped in. “Pardon the intrusion. Master Sandamar has arrived.”

  “Show him in.” Turning to Kyris, Caldir said, “To answer your question, no. I am responsible for causing that injury as much as Sandamar, so I will make sure it is rectified. Though I should warn you, the process will be rather unpleasant.”

  “By the gods! Are you doing this on purpose?” Kyris cried.

  “Healing you? I would hope so,” Sandamar replied.

  Kyris stared death at the fleshmender, who, outside of the horned helmet, was an undeniably handsome man with strong, regal features. No doubt a product of his own labor, Kyris thought.

  “Hold still. Restoring a hand is delicate work. Lots of tiny bones and muscles and such.”

  “You do know wha
t you’re doing, right?”

  Sandamar gave Kyris an ugly grin. “Hold still, I said! You want full function of it, don’t you?”

  Kyris grimaced at the pain but managed a quick nod.

  The two men sat at the table in the parlor, cleared of all food and drink. Sandamar held the injured hand firmly to the table top by leaning his left arm on Kyris’s wrist, while his right hand covered the deformed extremity. Caldir had stepped out, but not without first shooting the Ormossan a warning look, which did nothing for Kyris’ confidence in this whole ordeal.

  Kyris had watched at first, but the sight of his flesh being moved, plied as though it were clay, turned his stomach.

  “This seems to being taking longer,” Kyris stammered.

  “Longer than what? Oh, longer than when I twisted it? Yes, well, as the old saying goes, ‘It only takes a moment to destroy what it took a lifetime to create,’ or some such. Then again, I didn’t so much destroy your hand as rearrange it, and I’m not creating you a new hand, either. Just restoring it to its natural state. Perhaps that wasn’t the most apt comparison, but you understand, yes? It takes longer.”

  As Sandamar rambled on in obvious enjoyment, Kyris buried his face in his free hand.

  “You know,” Sandamar continued, either unaware of or unperturbed by the pain he was inflicting, “some within the order have such mastery and power they can block out pain to themselves and those that they administer to. Quite astonishing. Unfortunately, I am not so talented.” Sandamar said all this with a smile, but then his face grew serious. “Have you ever felt a hand-span of steel penetrate deep within your chest? No, I imagine not. For most, I suppose that could only be experienced the once. Perhaps you will have the pleasure one day.”

  The sharp pain and tension eased, leaving him with a dull throbbing. Kyris was soaked in sweat and exhausted, but he gasped at what Sandamar had done. The melted lump of flesh was gone, and in its place was an actual hand. The skin of each finger was separated from its neighbor again and no longer were they fused to his palm. They ached terribly when he tried to wiggle them, and everything was badly bruised and tender, but Kyris didn’t care. He had his hand back!