by Martha Wells
Adriana whispered, "Gassot's tavern is deep in an old area of Lutetia that's claimed by the Unseelie. It's called the Phantom Quarter."
The buildings were crammed close together, some seeming as if they were held up only by scaffolding, and there were piles of rubble everywhere. Manny didn't want to see the kind of things that lived atop these roofs. He was pretty sure it wouldn't be pixies.
They turned into another street. This one was the same, except that dark shapes huddled on the promenade or slouched against doorways and sagged out of windows.
"Are all those people—" he whispered to Adriana. He broke off when a group of goblins dressed in rags tumbled out of a doorway, fighting viciously in the street.
"Unseelie?" Adriana whispered in reply. "Yes, most of them are Dark Fae, or on their way to becoming so."
From above them, Etienne leaned down, and said, low-voiced, "Are we near Gassot's? Which street are we looking for?"
Adriana shuffled closer to the driver's seat and pulled the edge of the tarp back, whispering through the gap, "Turn left at the corner and stop before you get to the old bridge. It's just across it, on the right. There's a sign with a dog's head impaled on a lance."
"Charming," Etienne muttered.
The wagon continued to trundle along, squeaking and creaking for several more minutes until Gaudulfus reined in the horses. Manny peeked up from the tarp behind Etienne, studying the scene.
Not far ahead a ramshackle bridge crossed a dark gap in the street, and Manny could hear the water rushing below it. The bridge led into a small plaza, and the tavern loomed over the open space like a big crouching monster. It was made of grimy stone, and stood at least three stories tall, maybe more, with lots of gables and little balconies sticking out at odd angles. Big statues of crouching animals with horns and fangs stood to either side of the wide arched doorway. In the flickering light of basket torches, he saw the sign that Adriana had mentioned. Ugh, that's nasty, Manny thought with a grimace. Most of the windows were dark, but a few glowed and flickered behind their filthy drapes.
"There are plenty of eyes on the streets," Gaudulfus said. "We'll never be able to approach without being seen."
There was a raised stone hearth in the center of the plaza with a fire burning in it, and by its light Manny could see the shapes of many Unseelie loitering around in the plaza. Manny also spotted some movement in the deep shadows outside the tavern, and across the street near a dark rambling building that appeared to be an old stable.
"They're lookouts," whispered Adriana, squinting into the darkness. "Many more than usual. Someone values secrecy quite highly this night."
"What now?" said Gaudulfus, leaning close to Etienne. "Shall we risk a frontal assault?"
Etienne had been studying the tavern. He shook his head. "That would not get us the information we need. One of us will have to enter by stealth."
Adriana groaned under her breath, but said, "I'll do it." She began to slide out from under the tarp, but Manny grabbed her arm.
"No," he whispered urgently. "If anyone can sneak up there, it's me. I can ghost, you can't."
"Ghost?" Gaudulfus said in surprise. "What the devil is that?"
Adriana shook her head. "No, Manny, it's too dangerous. I won't allow it."
"What is he talking about?" said Etienne.
"I can disappear if I want to," Manny whispered hurriedly. "I call it ghosting. I don't know what it's really called, but I know I can do it."
"You have the gift of glamour?" asked Gaudulfus, sounding intrigued. "Well, that's most fortuitous."
"Is that what it's called?" asked Manny. "But that's not a big deal, right? I thought all Sidhe could do that."
Etienne shook his head. "We all possess magical gifts, but not all Sidhe can employ glamour. It seems to manifest mostly among those who have a need to remain unseen or to trick humans, usually more diminutive, vulnerable Fae... or certain Unseelie."
"It doesn't make a difference who has it," interrupted Adriana, "since Manny will not be the one sneaking in." She tried again to slide out from under the tarp, but this time it was Etienne who put his hand on her shoulder.
"Adriana, Manny speaks true," he said. "If he can use glamour to make himself unseen, that is our best chance of getting a pair of eyes and ears into that tavern."
"Aye, my dear," added Gaudulfus. "As gifted as you might be in the arts of stealth, there are goblin eyes out there. They will see you no matter how impenetrable the darkness may seem. Fae glamour is needed."
Settling back into the wagon with a scowl, Adriana said, "What if he's detected?"
"Then we shall arm ourselves and rush to his defense," said Etienne.
"We won't let any harm come to the lad," Gaudulfus assured her with a determined nod.
Adriana glanced down at Manny, then reached out and wiped some dirt from his cheek. "If anyone could do this, it would be Remy."
"Then that means I can do it, too," Manny said, smiling at her. He hoped he could do it. But he had snuck into the big mansion they had robbed, and that gave him some confidence.
Nodding, Adriana squeezed his arm. "Go slowly, Manny. If you rush, your glamour may fail."
Gaudulfus added reassuringly, "Be cautious and trust your instincts. I have faith in you."
Manny smiled; the words reminded him of his shadow voice's encouragement.
The dwarf is right. You can do this, his shadow voice whispered in his head. You and the darkness are friends. She will shield and protect you.
Taking a deep breath, Manny slid over the side of the wagon and crouched by the wheel. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his heartbeat to slow down and his excited breathing under control.
Don't see me... don't see me... The thought echoed over and over in his mind.
Opening his eyes, Manny crept to the bridge, sticking close to the stone railing and the shadows gathered there. The water rushed through the dark channel below. Manny expected it to have a bad odor, like a sewer, but it didn't. It smelled like a wild mountain river, dark and deep and dangerous. As if he was crossing out of this world and into some place even stranger.
He reached the end of the bridge, took another deep breath, and started toward Gassot's tavern, as silent as a living shadow.
Chapter Eighteen
Manny knew trying to go in the front door would be a bad idea, even ghosting. The goblins would be watching the archway for anyone trying to sneak in, and he had the feeling that concentrated attention might let them see through the glamour. Also, the thought of passing between those two statues gave him an uneasy itch between his shoulder blades, like they might come alive and grab him. He made for the alley beside the tavern, a narrow space between the weird angles and projections of the tavern's side wall and the crumbing stone of the ruin next to it.
He ghosted along the side of the plaza, keeping as much distance as possible between the dark shapes of the goblins and other creatures skulking just outside the circle of light from the hearth. He couldn't see much detail, just an occasional horn or high pointed ear outlined by the firelight. It reminded him unpleasantly of Morrigan's cavern, as if this might be a similar kind of meeting place. Then two shapes stepped out of the shadows near the doorway and started toward him.
Manny froze, panic closing his throat. But he fought the impulse to run, and instead just thought harder: Don't see me, Don't see me. The two big figures passed within three feet of him, close enough for him to hear the leather in their boots creak and the faint jangle of chain.
As they moved on across the plaza, Manny let out a long slow breath, feeling a flush of cold in his veins. He remembered health class and wondered if that was unused adrenaline. He wished he was back in health class right now.
He heard a shout from across the bridge, and looked back. Etienne and Gaudulfus were trying to turn the wagon in the narrow street, making it into an awkward process with a lot of noise and recriminations.
Good, Manny thought in relief. The goblins
would be distracted, and they would hopefully think the wagon was driven by two lost farmers.
Manny reached the alley without anybody shouting an alarm. The space was a narrow cave, with openings into the ruin next door that was perched on the edge of the channel. It seemed filled with stealthy movement and rustling. He crept along it, trying not to think about what he might be stepping on or what rats or spiders might be hiding in the crevices in the walls. It was hard to see the windows and balconies above, because the angles were so odd, but he spotted a lit window up on the third floor, tucked under a balcony. That looked like a good place to start the eavesdropping.
Manny climbed the wall, finding lots of hand and footholds in the chinks and gaps of the damp mossy stone. Climbing around a gable that stuck out from the side of the tavern, he started to put his hand into a gap and heard a low growl. He jerked his hand back, almost swinging right off the wall, biting his lip to hold in a yell.
Huddled in the gap, something small and furry muttered, "Watch it."
"Sorry," Manny whispered automatically. He rubbed his hand on his shirt, suppressed a shudder, and quickly climbed on.
He reached the window. The glass was broken out and the ragged remains of rich velvet curtains hung just inside. Manny pulled himself up and cautiously peered over the sill. Inside was a dark corridor lined with closed doors, lit only by a couple of guttering candles in wall sconces. At the far end he could make out a stairwell, and he could hear a low grumble of voices, and an occasional low-pitched laugh.
I've got to get down there, Manny thought. He couldn't stop now, no matter how much he wanted to.
The alley was silent, nobody was conveniently having their secret meeting near a window. His glamour might not help him at close range, so he had to move fast, before somebody stepped out of one of those doors.
Manny climbed over the sill before he could change his mind. Concentrating on stepping lightly and his don't see me refrain, he hurried down the hall. The wooden planks didn't creak under his feet, so he hoped that meant the glamour was working.
He reached the stairwell. It was musty and dark, with the remnants of rich gold curtains hanging like shrouds from the upper floor, and two crooked passageways leading off into the depths of the tavern. A small balcony projected out over the stairs and he stepped cautiously onto it, peering down over the railing.
There was a big firelit room on the floor below. He could just make out some Redcaps seated at a round table, and some other smaller goblins moving around, barely visible in the bad light. The low rumble of voices was louder, but he still couldn't make out words.
Manny bit his lip. Going down there would be tricky, but he had to hear what they were saying.
Footsteps from above froze him. Two, no, three sets of boots, coming down from the upper landing. Manny stepped quietly into the nearest corner, sank down and went still as two Redcaps and something big and scary with a lot of hair came down the stairs. They turned off at the landing, and clattered right past Manny and off down the passage across the way.
Holding his breath, Manny waited for their footsteps to fade. His legs a little shaky, he pushed to his feet and went to the head of the stairs. And stopped, cocking his head to listen.
"Let's be done with this bloody mess. Keep a sharp eye out, we still—"
That was Lothair. The voice had risen and then been cut off, like it had come from a room where the door had opened and closed. But he was sure it was the troll. He wasn't likely to forget that voice. And he was sure it had come from upstairs.
So maybe that room below was the actual tavern room, where the drinks were served, and the secret meeting was on the floor above. Manny cautiously started up. He made it to the next turn, to where he had a view of part of the landing, a doorway, and a big black dog sitting beside the doorway as if standing guard.
Not a dog, his shadow voice whispered. A Fae taking on a dog's shape. Manny had no trouble believing it. The dog was huge, wearing a collar set with polished white stones, and it had strange light-colored eyes that almost glowed.
There had to be something worth guarding in that room. But how to get closer?
The dog turned his head, staring down toward the stairs. It bared its fangs and sniffed the air suspiciously.
Yikes, not this way, Manny thought, and eased back down the steps. But now he knew where the room was, he might be able to get to it from outside.
He ghosted back down the passage to the broken window, climbed out again, and continued up the outside wall. He made it to the roof, scrambling up over the extended eave with only a little scrabbling over the rotted wood and loose shingles. There was nothing alive up there that he could see in the dark, but with all the peaks and valleys formed by the uneven roof, it was hard to tell.
He made his way carefully toward the gable near the front of the tavern where the meeting room was. The window wasn't tightly fitted. Manny was able to work his fingers into a crack and open the catch. He swung the window open and heard voices, but still couldn't make out the words.
A big heavy beam right below the window stretched over the dark expanse of the room below. He could see someone lighting a candle to the right. Manny stepped onto the dusty surface of the beam and crouched, edging out along it, trying to get a better view. Then Lothair's voice said, "Took you bloody long enough."
Manny froze for an instant of heart-stopping terror, before he heard someone else reply, "Still your warty tongue, you stinking brute. I'm not your lackey."
Manny let out his breath slowly. Lothair hadn't been talking to him. He eased out farther along the beam. The troll, stood beside an empty stone hearth, holding a large wooden goblet loosely in his clawed hand.
Two figures faced him: one a tall man, a human, wearing a dark cloak concealing his clothes. He had long dark hair, and a wide scar running down the left side of his face from the corner of his eye to his chin. The other figure was a tall, willowy goblin man, with hair like a drift of white cornsilk, sharp handsome features, and very pale unmarked skin. He was dressed in a leather doublet over gleaming dark silk, and the sword hilt at his side was iridescent black, like the shell of a beetle. He looked delicate, almost ethereal, but there was something eerie about him, something dangerous. It was like looking at a very prettily colored snake.
The human continued, "You will enter from the gardens. The way to the royal apartments will be unguarded." He tossed a piece of parchment on the table. "Leave the palace using the route indicated on that map. Otherwise, you run the risk of being shot."
Lothair glanced at the map. "I know the bloody plan. You just do your part. You know what's in it for you if this fails." He bared his tusks. "Morrigan ain't exactly the forgiving kind." Despite the growl in Lothair's voice, Manny thought there was an uneasy undertone to the words. As if Lothair was nervous.
Sounding disgusted and angry, the human said, "Treason, even against a boy, means a traitor's death. Far more ignoble an end than to die by a Fae hag's sorcery."
Lothair snorted. "But nowhere near as excruciating." He set his goblet down with a thump, spilling wine onto the table. "Even being hanged, drawn and quartered would be merciful, compared to what she'll do."
The human threw a wary look at the silent goblin. He said, "You trust this animal with such an important task? How can we be certain the king will not be harmed?"
Oh no, Manny thought, cold prickles creeping over his skin. It's not just a big robbery. They were going to do something to the king. He wasn't a very good student in history, but he knew you didn't do things to kings unless you were planning to take over the whole country.
The goblin said, "He will do what must be done. I will make sure of that." His voice was light, barely audible to Manny, but the tone sent a cold spike down his spine.
The troll shifted restlessly and growled, "Oi! I'm in the bloody room! And I ain't the one you should be worried about."
The human looked warily from one to the other. "The troll is right on one account. Failure
on anyone's part is sure to be punished severely. So make certain your men are prepared for tomorrow evening..."
Manny lost the rest. The goblin man turned his head, staring straight up at Manny's hiding place. His gaze was cold and opaque, like looking into a shark's eyes. Don't see me, don't see me, don't see me, Manny thought, trying for calm as his heart pounded like a drum. He was deep in the shadows; the goblin couldn't possibly see him. But he felt like he was wearing a neon sign on his head.
Finally the goblin turned back to Lothair and the human. He didn't give the alarm, and the others were still talking, but Manny figured he had used up all his luck.
He eased back along the beam, silent and slow, and out the window. He carefully pushed it closed again, though he couldn't reach the catch, and started his climb back down. His hands were shaking just a little, but he made it.
Chapter Nineteen
When Manny got through the alley and back to the plaza, he saw the wagon had been turned to face back down the street. Gaudulfus and Etienne stood beside it staging a rambling drunken argument that had the attention of all the Sidhe in the plaza and in the crooks and crannies of the surrounding buildings.
"Oberon's bones!" Etienne shouted. "May I be cursed with a pox if I ever take one of your blasted shortcuts again. Always we are late! It's a miracle we still have patrons in Lutetia."
"At least I'm not the one who can't stop sampling the bloody wares," Gaudulfus shouted back.
"No? Then how do you think you've arrived at your current state?"
The dwarf hiccupped loudly. "It's the only way to tolerate your incessant nagging. You're more of a tormenting harpy even than my shrew of a wife!"
Manny ghosted across the bridge, and slipped past a couple of bogles laughing at Etienne and Gaudulfus.