The boy smiled at the praise and picked up the sticks, then Roeglin led them along the trail.
They traveled by moonlight for half an hourglass, then the shadow mage led them from the main path into a ruin made of solid stone. Marsh wondered what it had been, and if it had been recently repaired.
“No idea, and, yes, I think so,” Roeglin told her.
They looked up at the walls as Mordan slunk inside, the kat’s disgust becoming apparent a few moments later. It is a lair of sadness, the kat informed her, and Marsh saw the sturdy doors and solid walls set along the back wall.
“They kept their prisoners here,” Marsh relayed, and Master Envermet nodded.
“It will be secure enough for the night,” he replied.
“We don’t have to dig latrines!” Henri noted, sounding pleased, and the others echoed the sentiment.
“Marsh, you’re on meals,” Master Envermet told her. “Roeglin and the apprentices can help. Brigitte, if you, Gerry, and Zeb can find water?”
“Yes, sir.” The mages hurried to obey their order, and Marsh was surprised to discover a primitive kitchen set halfway between an open fireplace and the doors leading to the slave pens.
The supplies in the raiders’ packs were perfect additions to the locked stone chest Aisha opened. The child was delighted to be able to help, laying her small palms on the stone and removing it from around the sturdy iron lock that kept the lid closed.
Henri gave her a speculative look. “Remind me to use timber on anything I want to keep you out of.”
Aisha beamed at him. “Okay. Use timber.” She grinned, and Henri looked worried.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
The child’s smile grew wider. “I’m not telling.”
It didn’t take Marsh and Roeglin long to turn the dried meat and root vegetables from the chest into a stew, and the wolves appeared shortly afterward.
Marsh was relieved to see their fur was clean, albeit damp.
Henri wasn’t happy. “I don’t suppose we can tell them to sleep outside,” he began but subsided when the nearest wolves laid their ears back and dropped their heads, their tails straight out behind them.
“I didn’t think so.” He gestured at the fire. “Why don’t you go and warm up?”
This earned him pricked ears and waving tails as the pack trotted over to lie beside the fireplace. Henri and Jakob had made a roaring blaze, and Master Envermet closed and barred the doors as soon as the last wolf had arrived.
He looked at Marsh. “That is all of them, isn’t it?”
Marsh glanced at Mordan, and the kat sleepily opened her eyes. All the pride are here, she confirmed. The pack, too.
Master Envermet looked relieved. Marsh looked at the wolves.
Are they hungry? she asked the kat.
A brief conference between Mordan revealed that the pack leader and the wolves had eaten before returning. Human food is...not as satisfying, was the kat’s translation of the wolf’s response.
Marsh refrained from asking, “As satisfying as what?” and the kat was not forthcoming.
She served the others, doling out the traveler’s bread from the raiders before taking her stew over to the fire. Roeglin was already sitting beside Aisha, with Tams on the other side of his sister. Marsh found a place next to the boy and settled beside him.
He gave her a wary glance, and she wondered what he’d done.
He’s not sure if you’re still mad at him, Roeglin informed her, and Marsh ducked her head.
Let the little rat stew, she thought, and Roeglin chuckled.
“Not fair, you two,” the boy scolded. “That’s like talking behind our backs.”
Aisha lifted her head. “Rude,” she told them, even though she had no idea what her brother was talking about.
“Too bad,” Marsh told them. “It was a private conversation.”
“About us,” Tamlin accused, and Marsh’s cheeks flushed. “See?”
She thought about denying the accusation but decided not to lie.
“Some things we talk to each other about before we discuss them with you,” she told the boy.
He glared at them both and went back to his supper.
Marsh breathed a silent sigh of relief and concentrated on her meal. Master Envermet broke through their thoughts a moment later.
“We need to find the assassin’s camp,” he said, and Marsh froze. “I want to make sure he was traveling alone. Idris had more than one sibling.”
“How do we know he wasn’t the last?”
“We don’t, and that’s why we’re going to check. They had to have come from somewhere. If we can find some clue as to where they lived, we could make sure they were no longer a threat. This time you were lucky, and the kat warned you. What if she’s busy the next time?”
Mordan rumbled an agreement, and Marsh sensed her approval for Master Envermet’s status as pack leader had increased.
“What about Gustav?” she asked, and the shadow captain’s eyes darkened.
“I don’t think we’re going to reach him before they get to the raiders’ base.”
Henri cursed, but Master Envermet ignored him.
“It saves us from looking for it afterward,” he explained, as though that were a good thing.
And you don’t think it is?
Marsh considered it and decided the shadow captain had a point. It wasn’t like they could go back to the caverns and raise an army. Whatever they were going to do to bring the raiders down, they didn’t really need more people than they had...she hoped.
I do, too. Master Envermet’s voice was sober. Out loud, he said, “Apprentices, it is time you went to bed.”
They had decided to sleep around the fire, rather than take the raiders’ quarters or occupy either of the two cells that had held the raiders’ captives. The two children looked at each other, and then at where the bedrolls had been neatly laid out in the cavern just beyond the fire. Their faces said it all.
Neither of them wanted to go to bed, but neither of them argued, either. At least, Tamlin didn’t. He stood and took his bowl over to the washtub, then crawled into his bedroll. Aisha, on the other hand, had no intention of sleeping in her bedroll.
She slipped off the rough log she’d been sitting on and walked over to the pack leader.
“Aysh...” Master Envermet tried, but the little girl ignored him. She slid to her knees and looked into the big wolf’s face.
To Marsh’s surprise, the pack leader lowered his head and met the child’s gaze. His eyes went from hazel to green as she laid a hand on his neck.
Whatever passed between them, Aisha was happy. She gave a pleased wiggle and snuggled against the wolf’s shoulder. He gave a heartfelt sigh and shifted slightly to curl his body around her.
Master Envermet looked from the child to Marsh and raised his eyebrow.
“I don’t suppose...” he began, and Marsh raised her hands, shaking her head as she did so.
“No. With all due respect, Master, there’s not a hope in all the Deeps.”
16
The Assassin’s Nest
They woke early, eating cold breakfast and taking all their gear with them. Master Envermet had Aisha reform the storage chest around the lock.
“We can’t take it with us,” he explained, “and I’m not sure we’re coming back. Best to leave something in case we do.”
That made sense and they’d stowed the supplies they couldn’t carry in the storage chest before asking Aisha to lock it again. It hadn’t taken her long, and they’d left the camp soon after.
“Do you think the wolves will help us?” Master Envermet had asked, and Marsh had sought Mordan.
I know where it is, the kat huffed, her tail flicking with irritation.
“Oh. Mordan, please lead the way,” the shadow captain amended, and Mordan cast him a baleful look.
If he is sure he wouldn’t prefer the wolves...
Master Envermet picked the thought out of Marsh�
�s head and shook his head. “No, Mordan. I forgot hoshkats have a better sense of smell.”
The kat stared at him a moment longer, flicked her tail once and padded silently along the trail to the point the assassin had fallen. Blood still stained the ground, but she surveyed the first raiders’ camp briefly, her nostrils flaring, before padding around the rubble.
The team followed, not one of them saying a word. Gerry, Zeb, and Izmay had re-tied gauze strips over their eyes, and stayed close to their partners. They still kept a wary eye on their surroundings, but Marsh didn’t think they could see much farther than a few feet.
The rest of the team surveyed the country around them, Master Envermet and Marsh dividing their attention between scanning the area and following the kat. Mordan stalked through bushes and leapt from the top of one pile of rubble to another. Every now and then, she’d pause to sniff one patch of ground or another before changing direction.
Her movements showed them the path the assassin had taken when he’d approached the camp the first time. The assassin hadn’t camped too far away, but the site he’d chosen was well-hidden. Without Mordan, they’d never have found it.
She guided them through piles of rubble that were swiftly being reclaimed by a wilderness of gardens gone to seed. In the shade of a large tree surrounded by a thorny barrier of sweet-smelling flowers, they came to another wooden door.
This one was barred from the outside. Mordan sniffed at it, looked at Master Envermet, and walked away, disappearing back the way they’d come.
We’re here, Marsh noted, and figured the kat would find a suitable platform to sun herself on while they investigated.
I sense no one, Master Envermet remarked, and Roeglin concurred.
“Let me,” Henri said when they hesitated, and both men stepped aside.
They stepped back farther when Izmay came alongside Henri, her hands braced as though she held a spear. She caught Marsh’s look.
“You said our weapons were shadowed air, right?”
Marsh nodded.
“Well, you were right.”
Marsh heard faint sounds of enlightenment from Gerry and Zeb but didn’t turn around. No doubt, the two shadow guards were testing the theory. She hoped they figured it out, and she focused on Henri as he lifted the bar.
He moved quickly and quietly, setting the bar aside before cautiously opening the door. The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, and Izmay pulled the gauze from her eyes as she stepped in. Master Envermet followed, calling a sword from the black, and Marsh followed.
Roeglin came after her, but the room was empty.
It was simply furnished but clearly a regular haunt.
“A home away from home,” Henri murmured, turning slowly to take it in.
Marsh followed his gaze and had to agree. The whole place was clean and orderly and well-appointed. It made her wonder if there was another location the assassin called home.
A simple table and chair stood in the center of the room atop a sturdy woven rug. Heavy drapes curtained off a section of wall, and a desk and bookcase took up another.
There were no windows, Marsh noted, but there was a small stone-floored area for cooking and two more heavy wooden doors in the rear wall. One was locked.
“I wonder where they go,” Roeglin murmured and froze, holding up his hand.
Silence. Master Envermet’s command echoed through Marsh’s head, and the team stilled.
Roeglin signaled to Henri and pointed at the door. The big man moved quickly to it, Izmay shadowing him, spear in hand. A quick hand count of three saw him slide the bolt back and step through, sword in hand.
Izmay followed with her spear, and Roeglin moved after, pulling twin blades from the air as he went. Marsh stepped to the door and stopped. The room beyond was too small for more people to enter...and those inside it were no threat to anyone.
They were sleeping, their breathing deep and even. Neither of them moved when Henri prodded them with the toe of his boot. Both had been covered with thin blankets, and it took Roeglin a moment to point to the chains running from beneath them to the wall.
“They’re not going anywhere,” he noted.
“We need a key,” Izmay observed and looked at Marsh. “Did you find one when you searched him?”
She could only mean the assassin, and Marsh shook her head. “No.”
The shadow guard came out of the cell, releasing her spear to the daylight or wherever she’d drawn it from. “Then it has to be in here somewhere.”
Her face was marked by anger as she inspected the wall closest to the door.
“Leave them,” Master Envermet ordered. “We’ll find the key and release them when they wake.”
“Do you know how long they’ll sleep?” Izmay wanted to know.
“Pretty sure he wasn’t planning on carrying them unconscious,” Henri remarked and moved to the other door, “which means we’re either close to where he needs to go, or...” He pulled the door open, his voice taking on a satisfied note. “Or he has some kind of transport nearby.”
“Nice!” Zeb commented, following after him.
Marsh caught the scent of a stable and heard the rustle of straw as animals moved in their stalls. One gave a rumbling snort. The sound was followed by the rhythmic scrape of a hoof pawing at the floor.
“Someone’s hungry,” Henri noted and started talking to the creature. “Easy there, boy. I’ve got your food. Yours, too,” he added, answering a second snort.
“I’ll get the water,” Zeb told him. “This is a nice setup.”
“Too nice for an asshole,” Henri declared.
Marsh left them to it and joined Izmay in her search for the key. They left the door to the cell open, and Roeglin emerged a few moments later.
“They’re too deeply under for me to get anything out of them,” he said. “We’ll have to ask them when they wake up.”
Izmay was searching the main room, so Marsh started on the kitchen. She paused when she opened a tall cabinet she’d thought was a pantry.
“We need a druid,” she said, and Master Envermet crossed to see what she’d found.
The cabinet before her contained neatly tied bundles of herbs. Many hung upside-down against the door, but the cupboard also held cloth bags carefully separated in stone dishes, clay jars sealed tight with wax, and bottles in which stems or flowers were suspended in different-colored liquids.
“I hope the food’s kept somewhere else,” Henri commented, looking over their shoulders. He reached past them and pulled a key off a hook partially concealed by a tall bottle filled with plant stems and yellow liquid. “At least we found the key.”
“A key,” Marsh corrected. “We found a key,” but Henri had already left
“We’ll see...” he called back, tossing the key to Izmay.
Marsh ignored them as they went back into the cell. Master Envermet studied the cabinet’s contents. “I’ll let Sulema know,” he decided and closed the door again. “I doubt anything in there is edible.”
They were interrupted by the furry weight of a wolf. It refused to move as Master Envermet tried to close the door. Marsh looked down at it, recognizing the she-wolf who had been the last to demand a connection to her.
The wolf renewed that connection now, curiosity flooding from her mind to Marsh’s. What was in the cupboard that was so interesting? Was it edible? Disapproval came as she caught the mélange of smells.
How could they focus on any one scent with so many crowded together? Why were they interested? Some of this stuff was not to be eaten! Or rolled in... The wolf backed away.
What did the humans want to know? Did they wish to find their hunter’s other lair?
“Yes,” Marsh told it aloud. “Yes, we want to find his other lair. We want to destroy the other hunters before they come seeking.”
Master Envermet cocked his head to one side, and Marsh knew he was inside her head, observing the link to the wolf. The wolf sneezed, and Mordan padded through the door.
/>
What is going on?
The wolf answered her question with a series of images: the contents of the cupboard, the assassin riding up a road made of broken rocks and the remains of an ancient thoroughfare, a townhouse of stone set a little bit apart from more old buildings repaired using materials from the surrounding Devastation.
The she-wolf relayed Marsh’s desire to find the place, marking it as a hostile lair.
“Looks like we’ll have to kill two birds with one stone,” Master Envermet commented, plucking the images from Marsh’s head.
“Four,” Marsh corrected him. “Kearick and Salazar should be there.”
She highlighted the image of a large stone building standing at one end of the settlement. It had only been fleeting, but she was sure it held the library she’d glimpsed when Kearick had fled through the portal.
“Four,” the shadow captain agreed.
Izmay and Henri emerged from the cell, defeated.
“Wrong key,” Izmay muttered shortly, handing it back to Henri. “See if you can find what it does fit.”
Henri shrugged, and Izmay resumed their search. Izmay glanced at Roeglin. “They’re still sleeping.”
He nodded. “They’re okay,” he told her, answering the question she didn’t dare ask. “Probably the same stuff he used on the mule.”
At the mention of the mules, Aisha turned back to the door. “I’ll go get them.”
Tamlin was a fraction faster than Brigitte and grabbed the girl before she’d moved more than two steps. “Not yet.”
Thunderclouds gathered in the girl’s face. “When?”
“Soon,” Master Envermet reassured her. “We’ll ask Mordan and the wolves to help.”
“Scruffy knows,” Aisha informed him, and Marsh realized the pup and Perdemor had been missing all morning.
Master Envermet groaned. “I should have seen that coming.”
Marsh refrained from adding he wasn’t the only one. She glared at the child. “Go and sit at the table.”
For a second, Aisha looked like she might refuse, but in the end, she shrugged her way out of Tamlin’s grasp and stomped over to do what she was told. She flounced into one of the chairs and slouched there, her arms firmly folded over her chest. “Fine.”
Trading Into Daylight (The Magic Below Paris Book 6) Page 12