Beyond the farthest buildings were the silhouettes of tree-tops. They would have reminded Emeline of Equane but for the dark shadow of mountains beyond them.
Loud voices spilled from open doorways and windows. The people here dressed differently from Equanians: The men favored long cloaks and jackets made of a leather that didn’t have to be stitched together in strips, like fish-leather did. The streets were busy.
“I bet that’s the schoolhouse,” Dale said, pointing to a building with a bell.
“And there’s the trouble-house,” Fish said, jerking his head. Emeline turned to see a building set back off the road, spewing an incredible racket of yelling, arguing, laughter, and music, with the occasional crash of broken glass. The sign over the door read: GALLID’S TAVERN.
“I guess they like their ale here!” Dada said, amused.
The sound of a spring-gun went off, and everyone jumped. Emeline snapped around, worried, but saw nothing; then they heard laughter and the gun went off again.
“This place is exciting!” Aladane said.
“I think you mean ‘dangerous,’ ” Dada muttered.
“There should be an inn,” Fish said. “We might be able to stop and wash up.”
“Oh yes, let’s do that!” Emeline said, and to her surprise, the boys chimed in in agreement. She suspected that they just wanted to see the inside of something.
“They’ll charge us for it, but then I guess we’ll find out if our money’s any good,” Dada said. Fish nodded.
“We’ll look out for an inn sign,” Dale said eagerly. He and Aladane leaned over the sides of the wagon.
The last of the sunlight disappeared into the trees, and the bright glow of windows spotted the darkness around them. It wasn’t long before they saw a signpost planted right by the road, a lantern hanging from it. The painted words CARVEN’S INN were plain as day on the board.
Dada turned off the main road, the wagon bumping over the rough path marked by the sign. Emeline could see a tall building ahead of them with many windows in the second story, most of them lit but covered by shades. Figures moved in one or two of them.
“Let’s be quick about it,” Dada said, studying the place. Emeline couldn’t tell whether he disliked it or was being cautious. She felt just as curious now as the boys; she’d never seen an inn before.
They stopped out front, and a boy younger than Dale scrambled out the door as suddenly as if he’d been shoved. He came up to greet them in the dark, squeezing a hat in his hands.
“Hello, do you need a room?” he shrilled. “We’ve only got one available. There’s a stable for horses.” It sounded like he was spitting out the words from memory.
“We don’t need a room, son,” Fish told him. “We’d just like to pay to use the washroom, if that’s all right.”
The boy stared back at him, his mouth open.
“Go ask your mama if it is,” Dada said kindly. The boy spun around and hurried back into the inn; there were a few bangs inside and then he ran back out.
“Half a payt each, except the girl’s free. Girls are clean,” he announced. Emeline laughed, while Dale and Aladane looked insulted.
“I suppose we’ll have to pay for the stowaway,” Fish grumbled.
“Oh no, I don’t mind not washing,” Aladane announced. “I’ll just look around.”
“If I have to, you have to!” Dale insisted.
Dada turned back to the innkeeper’s boy. “All right, we’ll come in,” he told him. Emeline climbed into the back of the wagon eagerly, digging for a towel and a clean dress—her pale yellow one. The boys followed suit.
“I’ll feed the horses while you folk take your turns,” Fish said as they climbed out of the wagon. “Somebody ought to keep an eye on things.”
Emeline followed her father through the inn door, her legs stiff. The dimly lit lobby was not very warm. A large staircase curved overhead, and the walls were full of framed pictures, but it was hard to make them out in the poor light.
As Dale and Aladane joined them in the doorway, a heavyset matron marched out of a swinging door, wearing a faded dress that buttoned up the front. She surveyed them critically, wiping her hands on a towel as the sounds of clinking dishes and chattering women spilled out of the kitchen behind her.
“Washroom’s behind the stairs, to the left,” she said with a sniff. “I’ll thank you not to bother any guests.”
“We’ll be as quiet as mice,” Dada said politely. He counted out the payt bills from his pocket and laid them on the counter that faced the front door. “Emeline, I’ll walk you over and wait at the door. Boys, stay right here and don’t talk to anyone.”
He put a protective hand on her arm and led her toward the stairs. She realized with surprise that he was more worried about letting her wash alone than about leaving the boys in the lobby, even though she was the oldest.
There were muffled sounds from the rooms above as they ducked under the stairs to a little nook with a narrow door. Someone laughed; someone else was singing in a low voice. She wondered what kind of people were staying the night there, and where they were going.
“Anyone inside?” Dada asked the door. When no one answered, he pulled it open to reveal a large brass basin with a hand pump and a crude bar of soap lying in the bottom. He patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll be right out here.”
“I know, Dada. I’ll be fine.”
Once inside, she undid her bodice and pulled off her dress and underclothes, then pumped the handle until cold water came pouring out, making a racket in the brass tub. Footsteps creaked overhead as she splashed herself, shivering; the soap was hard and dry, but she managed to get some lavender-smelling lather.
Suddenly, fast, heavy footfalls thumped across the lobby and up the stairs. She froze. Dada cleared his throat, but said nothing; she dried herself quickly and pulled on her clean clothes, hurrying to open the door.
“Who was that?” she whispered.
“Not sure. Let’s go,” he said, taking her arm again. They hadn’t gotten halfway across the lobby before Dale and Aladane came rushing to meet them, their eyes as wide as platters.
“Did you see them?” Dale hissed.
“One of them was a Lash Knight!” Aladane whisper-shouted. Emeline gasped and turned to look up the stairs, but there was nothing to see.
“A Lash Knight?” Dada looked skeptical.
“He had a cloak on with armor underneath!”
“I could see his whip!” Dale exclaimed. Dada shushed him.
“It’s none of our business. Let’s go, Aladane, you’re next,” he said, gesturing. The big boy nodded reluctantly and followed him, still craning his neck toward the stairs.
“There were two of them?” Emeline asked Dale.
“The other man looked like a guard, maybe. They just barged straight in and up the stairs, Em.”
“Didn’t the inn lady hear them?” she asked, surprised.
“She peeked her head out, but then she just slammed the door shut.”
The two of them looked toward the kitchen, realizing it was silent. Everyone on the other side of the door had either disappeared or gone quiet. Something’s wrong here.
A loud cry upstairs broke the silence—Emeline jumped in her skin. Then a fierce crack tore the air, almost like a lightning strike, and there was a crash. Dada came running back from the washroom just as more cries and thumps sounded.
“What in the kingdom?” he gasped.
A shirtless man suddenly raced down the stairs, ghostly pale and shave-headed. Behind him came a bearded stranger with a strange-looking spring-gun.
“Get down!” Dada roared. Emeline grabbed Dale’s arm and dropped to the floor, trying to pull him with her. The two men raced across the lobby, headed straight for the door.
“Stop!” someone bellowed.
But the shir
tless man was upon the Birds, his eyes wild, and in one slick movement he yanked Dale from Emeline’s grasp. Then he plunged out the door with her brother.
Emeline shrieked. “He’s got Dale!”
The bearded man rushed outside, Dada on his heels. A stranger—a giant in a cloak—caught Dada by the shoulder and pulled him back, running past them both.
Emeline leapt to her feet just as Aladane came hopping out into the lobby, pulling up his pants. She ran after her father, her heart pounding.
It was dark outside, the darkness of a late-summer night. Where was the man who’d taken Dale? She heard Fish call out and run toward them. Panic throbbed inside her head.
Dale! Dale!
The sound of a gun went off, stopping her heart. It was the loudest shot she’d ever heard. Could that really be a spring-gun? She caught up to Dada just as he started running across the road.
“Go back!” he yelled at her. She ignored him.
They plunged between buildings and over uneven ground. Lantern light flashed at them from windows and dogs barked.
“Bird!” Fish roared from behind them. “What’s going on?”
“He’s got Dale!” Emeline screamed again.
She stumbled and looked up, startled to see trees looming much closer than she expected. Completely out of breath, horrified, she stopped. Is he taking Dale into the woods? Fish was catching up to her now, panting.
A harsh voice shouted, “Stop right there!”
She could see Dada freeze ahead of her. She ran to his side.
“Don’t move!” the voice cried again.
Dada flung out his arm to hold Emeline back. Breathless, she saw what was just ahead of them—the cloaked man and the bearded man standing taut and alert before the brute that held Dale.
He had one bare, muscled arm tight around her brother, whose kicking legs dangled just above the ground. His other hand held a knife against Dale’s throat; the edge of it gleamed for an instant in the darkness. Emeline clung to Dada’s arm, staring at the blade.
Behind Dale and his captor, a wide stream ran through tall grass, separating the last houses from the woods. The bearded man stood aiming his spring-gun at them, and the tall man in the cloak had his hand at his side.
“Don’t shoot!” Dada pleaded, his voice cracking.
“It’s too dark!” Fish added behind them. “You’ll miss!”
“Listen to them,” Dale’s captor snarled, struggling with the boy.
“Dale, be still!” Emeline shrieked.
Then the cloaked man spoke. “Hiding in the dark, Loddril? I suppose it does improve your looks.” His voice was so deep and loud it took Emeline by surprise. She squinted at him in the dim, remembering what the boys had said. Was he really a Lash Knight? Could he save Dale?
“You don’t know me,” the man with the knife snapped back.
“And for that, every day I’m grateful. But I do know what your business is,” the cloaked man replied. His tone was disdainful, almost lazy, but underneath it was a dangerous edge.
“You don’t know! And you’ll be getting nothing from me about it. If you don’t want this child dead, you have to let me go.” He took a step backward and Dada gasped.
“And where will you go that I can’t find you?”
“You don’t know what I can do! I can disappear!”
“Go on, then, show me your magic! Disappear! But I think your concern, maggot, should be how little you know me.” The emphasis on the last word made the shirtless man flinch.
It was just enough distraction for Dale to wrench himself half-free. His neck jerked back, away from the knife, and Emeline gasped. The blade turned—
A flash of black lightning crossed the distance between them. It struck the knife from the man’s fingers, sending it spinning into the dark. He dropped Dale with a shriek.
The whip struck again and slashed the man across the face. He fell to his knees, but Dale was on his feet and running. He came crashing straight into Dada and Emeline, and they threw their arms around him.
“Bless water!” Fish exclaimed.
“You’re a failure all around, Loddril,” the Lash Knight taunted. His bearded companion was striding toward the man, still aiming his spring-gun. “I’d love to put an end to things, but I have to find out who hired you.”
Emeline stared at the tall, broad-shouldered knight in awe, Dada nearly crushing Dale to death in his arms as Fish reached over and patted them. The Lash Knight turned to look back at them, his face hidden under the hood of his cloak.
“You have unfortunate timing,” he said indifferently. “This man was hired to kill someone in that inn—a place I wouldn’t recommend to travelers on the best of nights.” The four of them stared back at him, speechless. “Wasn’t there another boy?” he asked pointedly.
“Aladane!” Fish blurted. He turned around and ran back toward the inn.
“Thank you,” Dada told the knight, his breath coming out in a rush. “Thank you for saving my son.” Emeline couldn’t even speak.
The bearded man was leading the would-be assassin back toward them now, his hands bound behind him. The man’s angry white face was bloody, and Dale stared at him as they passed.
“It’s someone important, isn’t it?” he blurted out. “That he tried to kill?” Dada shushed him.
“That’s a sound assumption,” the Lash Knight declared. “Innish, does he have anything on him?”
“Another knife and a map. We should check the room,” the bearded man answered.
“And collect Rellum. The fool, traveling alone!” the knight said. They left without another glance at Dada, Dale, or Emeline.
“Is Al okay?” Dale asked, a little shaky.
“Let’s go make sure,” Dada said, sounding strained. Emeline hugged them both again.
When they got back to the inn, they found Aladane surrounded by Fish, the innkeeper, and the kitchen women in the yard. The ladies were chattering excitedly, and several heads were staring out from the windows above. Once he caught sight of them, Aladane ran toward Dale, waving his arms and tripping over his pants’ legs.
“Dale!” he screeched. “Did you just get rescued by a Lash Knight?!”
* * *
When the innkeeper heard the story she gave Dale a large cheese tart, which he accepted happily. As the rest of them stood there, still getting their bearings, Emeline noticed an elderly man standing off to the side and speaking with the Lash Knight, clearly pained by what he was hearing. Olive-skinned, he had short-cropped white hair, a lined face, and a sharp nose, which gave him a haughty look. His richly embroidered cloak of blue velvet touched the floor.
He gestured at the assassin Loddril, whom the bearded Innish was guarding. In the lantern light, Loddril was pale enough to glow, and he was wire thin, covered in lean muscle. A long angry welt from the knight’s whip cut diagonally across his face, and he grimaced in pain, his mouth full of filed teeth.
Innish was a ruddy-complexioned, hardy-looking man, older than Dada. He had a curly gray beard, with more gray curls spilling from underneath a black cap, and he wore panels of leather armor and trousers with many pockets. Emeline was surprised by how large the leather panels were; they were clearly not fish-leather.
There was a chain around his neck that disappeared into his collar, out of sight. If there was a pendant on it, it was hidden from the world.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did all this happen?” Dada asked him as Loddril spat toward the women staring at him.
“We got word someone had been paid to take out that one,” Innish said guardedly. He nodded toward the old man in the embroidered cloak.
Dada followed his gaze, and his dark eyes lit up in surprise.
“He’s a Sapient!” he exclaimed. “He’s got the cloak!”
Astonished, Emeline turned back to look. In the
embroidery on the man’s thick cloak, she could just make out the shapes of silver-threaded gears and wheels, symbols of the Sapients. This man was a member of the royal council!
“True,” Innish said, sounding surprised that Dada would know such a thing. “He is Rellum Sapient.”
As he spoke, the Sapient—still in conversation with the knight—angrily rubbed his face with one hand. Emeline studied him, wondering what he would think of their story about the Ithin, this man who denied the existence of magic.
And what would he think of her? She bit her lip, suddenly uneasy, and took half a step behind Dada.
“That scoundrel was going to kill a Sapient?” she heard Fish ask, aghast.
“He’s an assassin with a reputation,” Innish told him. “Sir Reese has heard reports of him before.”
Emeline glanced at the tall, muscular Lash Knight. He had pulled the hood of his cloak down when he stepped inside, revealing a black, muzzle-shaped helmet. His armor gleamed darkly in the lantern light, like black fish scale.
As she watched, he pulled the helmet off and shook out a short crop of reddish blond hair. She was startled to see a younger face than his voice and size suggested, a keen intelligence burning in his eyes. He was scowling at something the Sapient was saying.
“We’re traveling to the capital to report an Ithin sighting in Equane,” Dada was telling Innish. Emeline looked back to see the bearded man’s face transform completely.
“You saw the Ithin?” he exclaimed, suddenly fearful.
“My children did, and my friend here and I saw some evidence.”
“Was anyone hurt?” Innish demanded. Emeline was surprised that he seemed so ready to believe.
Dada shook his head quickly.
“No, no. I only mention it because I suppose we might see you in the capital.” He looked over at Dale and Aladane, who were sharing the cheese tart. Dale was yawning enormously between bites, and Emeline realized how tired she was too. She was in no condition now to consider magic and Sapients—none of them were.
Between the Water and the Woods Page 6