The Watcher's Eyes (The Binders Game Book 2)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  Natash. A swordsman, and one skilled enough to escape me at least once. I had hoped he’d forgotten about the grudge he held against me. The last time that I saw him, it had been in the streets after he’d tried taking one of Carth’s women from me, a woman I had hit with coxberry so that I could attempt to find answers. Then he’d made the mistake of coming at me in the Brite Pot, a place I had promised my friend Talia I would not conduct any business. I thought he’d worked for Orly, but maybe I had been wrong. For a man like Natash to hire men like this, that meant he had some access to coin.

  If Natash decided that he wanted to make a play for me, then it was time to send him a message.

  “Where is he?”

  “I can’t…”

  “Tell me or this knife will finish the job.”

  The man tensed and then spat again. “If I tell you, I’m as good as dead. At least this way, my wife won’t die too.”

  Damn. That was just the sort of thing I expected from someone like Natash, and another reason I couldn’t leave him alone anymore. Whatever else I might have going on with Orly, I needed to settle this business with Natash.

  I jabbed another coxberry dart into the man’s neck. He coughed once and then stopped moving.

  Moving to the next man, I knelt on him much like I had the other. When he roused enough to realize what had happened, he began thrashing. This one had more strength than his friend, but still not enough to throw me off his back. Few men were able to outmuscle someone from Elaeavn.

  I leaned close enough to his face to note his foul breath, a mixture of thaboc smoke and ale. “Where is Natash?” I asked.

  The man spat. Some of his spittle struck my face. I lifted his head and slammed it into the stones. He grunted.

  “Where. Is. Natash.”

  I punctuated each word with another slam of his head into the stones. If neither answered, then I had other ways I could get information, but that involved a certain amount of work, and I didn’t want to worry about who Natash might send next. He’d already attacked me in the Brite Pot, sending men with an intent to poison me, and now he’d decided that he could risk attacking me on the streets. What next? Would he think to follow me to my home? I’d gone to considerable lengths to keep that hidden, and if Natash attempted to chase me there, I would have no choice but to bring everything that I had against him.

  “You can’t get to him.”

  “I can get to anyone.”

  “Not Natash. Not anymore. After what you did at that tavern, he got himself someplace safe. He’s got connections.”

  “We all have connections,” I said. I didn’t need to remind him of Davin. When I’d killed the thief-master for what he did to his courtesans, word had spread about my ability as an assassin. That had been the best advertising for my services in a place like Eban.

  “Not like this. No one has connections like Natash.”

  I slammed the man’s head again. “What kind of connections? Where is he?”

  Blood ran from the man’s mouth and dripped onto the stones. He spit, but this time, he made a point of not spitting at me, but toward the ground. “Ben. He’s with Ben.”

  Benahg? Well, damn.

  I hesitated, and the man began to thrash again. As he did, I jammed another dart into his neck, not bothering to check which one. He writhed a moment and then stopped moving altogether. Only then did I check to see which dart I had used on him. Terad.

  I stood slowly, wiping my hands on my dark cloak and grabbing for another dart. If Natash had gone to Benahg for help, and had been granted it, then I needed to be more careful. Most within Eban I dealt with were like myself and Orly, living outside the law, making our way through the underbelly of the streets. I thought Natash like that as well, especially given the way that he’d sent men after me at the Brite Pot and now here. But if he’d involved Benahg, not only one of the city’s councilors, but one who led the council, then I risked not only the dark side of the city but the guard itself.

  I didn’t know if that made Natash stupid or desperate. Probably both. Desperate men often were stupid. But it made what I now needed to do even more difficult. Reaching Natash would be nearly as hard as getting to Orly—only, if I made a mistake, I was bound to get all of Eban’s might coming for me.

  As I stood on the street corner, still crouched in shadows, I stared out at the street. As far as I could tell, nothing moved, but that didn’t mean that no one was out there. I climbed to the nearest rooftop and crouched, surveying the darkened streets of Eban. From here, I could see farther than I could otherwise, and with my Sight, I could make out even the rats scavenging. At first, I thought there wasn’t anything else, but then I saw the glint of steel.

  One of the city guard. There would be another. They always patrolled in pairs, but they should not be here, not in this section of Eban, and not with Orly’s control here.

  I found him on the opposite side of the street, also tucked back away from easy view. Then I knew that Natash had already managed to bring the might of Eban after me.

  Chapter 3

  “What do you plan on doing, then?” Talia leaned back in the chair, her low-cut dress forcing me to drag my eyes up to her face. She noticed and smiled. Talia had been nothing more than a friend to me in the time that I’d been in Eban, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t tried for more. It was the challenge that appealed to her, I think.

  “If he’s with Ben, then I’m not really sure.”

  “And you still have Orly to deal with,” she reminded me.

  She tipped back a mug of ale and took a long drink as she glanced around the tavern. I’d only recently learned the way that she ran the tavern and the way that she worked with Carth in order to do so. Like me, Talia had secrets. Mine had more to do with my past and the reason I’d left Elaeavn in the first place. Hers seemed to be about how she had assumed control of the Brite Pot.

  One of the serving girls, a woman with a painted face meant to signal her intentions to the customers, made her way toward Talia. Her hips swayed widely as she meandered toward us, touching men on the back of the neck or occasionally running her hand across their cheeks as she passed. A few reached toward her, but she was experienced and either turned at just the right moment to avoid the grope or playfully batted their hands away.

  She stopped next to the table. She was short, probably no taller than the middle of my chest were I standing, and mostly petite, except for the buxom way her dress filled out. It wasn’t quite as pronounced as Talia’s, but then, she didn’t really need to be.

  “Mistress,” she said, slipping a folded piece of paper across the table.

  Talia slid the page off the table and down into her pocket. The girl moved off, making her way to the next table, where she stopped long enough to touch both of the men sitting there. They barely paused shooting dice, continuing their conversation, as if oblivious to the fact that the girl was even there. One of the men reached toward her ass, but she turned away from him and moved on.

  “She’s skilled,” I said.

  “You have no idea,” Talia commented.

  I laughed softly. “That’s not what I meant,” I said.

  “I know what you meant.” Talia took another drink and set her glass back down. She reached across the table and caressed my arm. “Don’t worry, Galen. I wouldn’t allow another a chance with you until I had mine first.”

  “Talia—”

  She patted my arm and pulled her arm back. “You need to loosen up. You might enjoy life a little more if you do.”

  “If I loosened up, I wouldn’t be able to do my job.”

  “There are others who could do your job.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” I nodded toward the paper she’d tucked into her pocket. “What was that about?”

  They playful expression on Talia’s face disappeared. “That’s none of your concern, Galen. I think that we’ve already established what I do. Do you think that I need to reveal all my secrets?”

  “N
ot all of them. Only those that put you in danger,” I said. I took a drink and then set the mug down. The Brite Pot was the only place I felt safe drinking the ale. Not because it was significantly better than any of the other taverns in Eban—if anything, it was probably worse than most—but because of Talia and the fact that I knew she wouldn’t do anything that put me at risk.

  “I’ve been in danger since I first step foot in this city. Your presence here doesn’t change that or make it any less so,” Talia said.

  “If I could—”

  She came around the table where she kissed me on the cheek. “I know that you would. That’s the reason I’ve done everything that I can to help you.”

  “Not because of Carth?” I asked.

  Talia stiffened slightly. “I didn’t need Carth for me to know that I should trust you. Whatever else you are, you’re someone who can be trusted. There aren’t many like you.”

  “Assassins?”

  Talia smiled and brushed loose strands of hair back from her face. “Men.” She stood and glanced around the tavern. “You need a place to stay for a while until you figure out how you intend to deal with Natash?”

  “I don’t want to put you in any more danger than needed. I think my place is safe enough.”

  “Some day you’ll have to show me your place,” she said.

  I smiled. “Some day,” I agreed. “With Natash, if he’s figured out a way to draw Ben in, then I might need to let him sit. Once I figure out what’s going to happen with Orly, I might be able to ask for his help.”

  “Do you really want to owe Orly a favor?” Talia asked.

  I didn’t, but I couldn’t think of any way to get to Natash, not in that part of the city. I had connections, but fewer than Orly, and apparently fewer even than Natash. Making an attempt in the city without help put me directly into harm’s way.

  “What other choice do I have?” I asked her.

  “You always have choices.”

  She traced her fingers across my cheek as she started away. Neither of us ever expected that day to come. For me, it couldn’t. I wouldn’t drag someone I cared about into my world, and I still hadn’t earned the forgiveness of the Great Watcher to end my service. After what I had done, I might never earn out my service, regardless of what Isander claimed when I first went to him for training.

  Talia left the tavern completely, leaving me wondering what she’d learned that would make her need to rush off so quickly. I sat there for a little longer, watching the women working their way around, noting how they were essentially ignored as the men gamed, or drank, or simply sat and talked. Carth had a perfect network of informants. Few would expect the prostitutes of the city to be so well organized. Why would someone ever think they would be? When a man went looking for one of the painted girls, there was a very specific intent, and when he came looking for ale, there was another. In both cases, the tavern women were there, able to provide what the men wanted, but also ready to gather whatever information was available.

  This was what Orly wanted. If not the network itself, he wanted access. Given how he traded in secrets, such knowledge was invaluable.

  And maybe, I wondered, it was about more than that. I wouldn’t put it past Orly to be thinking beyond Eban. Could there be other similar networks in other cities?

  Why wouldn’t there be? Carth wasn’t from Eban and had still managed to consolidate the power within the city. It wasn’t a large leap to envision her doing something similar in other cities.

  Damn.

  I made my way after Talia. That was a question I needed to have answered. Then I would figure out what to do about Natash.

  Outside the tavern, the night was cool. Smoky lanterns provided some light, but not much—and more than I needed. A few people moved along the streets. One couple weaved drunkenly and stopped at the Brite Pot, following the sounds of the music into the tavern. I didn’t see where Talia had gone.

  If she went on an errand for Carth, she would likely be heading for the docks. That was where I’d last seen Carth and her people, but then again, there was the place of healing hidden within the city as well. For all I knew, Talia could have been heading there. Or neither place.

  The Brite Pot was in a dirty section of Eban. Most of the really good taverns were in parts much like this. There were other places within the city, with other taverns, all serviceable in their own way, but none with the same vibrancy as found in the outskirts. Even the women working in the tavern were friendly, the prostitutes cheaper. It was the reason so many with means came down from the better parts of Eban. It was also the reason there was so much violence the farther away from the city center you went.

  Without really knowing where Talia had gone, I started along the streets. The questions about Carth could be saved for later. For now, I had to decide how I was going to convince Orly to help me reach Natash. Usually, he was the one giving me the jobs. This time, I would somehow have to convince him to help me, and do it without him realizing that was what he was doing. It was all a game, and one I wasn’t sure I played at the same level as those trying to play me.

  Sounds of shouting drifted down the street. I continued more cautiously than before, staying close to the shadows. The sound died out quickly, almost too quickly. I’d known shouts like that and knew how they would be silenced just as quickly. Whatever had happened wasn’t my business, but then again, I couldn’t help but feel compelled to investigate.

  A body laid in the middle of the street. Streetlamps were stationed far enough apart that the body fell in pools of shadows between them. I could make out a heavy cloak and long, dark hair, but nothing else.

  I glanced up the street but didn’t see who might have attacked. Peering the other way was no better. I hadn’t passed anyone here, either.

  What was going on?

  Grabbing a pair of darts, I hurried forward and crouched in front of the fallen person. As soon as I neared, I sucked in a sharp breath.

  I rolled Talia over. Her eyes were glazed and blood seeped from a wide gash along her throat. I clamped a hand to her neck and ripped a strip of cloth free from her cloak and bound it around the wound. Cinching it too tight would choke her, but not tight enough that she would bleed out. I wasn’t sure I could save her either way, but I wasn’t about leave her here.

  She groaned softly as I scooped her into my arms, already running. Talia blinked and a moment of clarity came to her face. A weak smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Galen…”

  “Shh,” I said, trying to soothe her. I ran through the street, thinking of only one place that I could take her. Had it not been for Carth, I wouldn’t have known the place existed. As it was, I didn’t really know why it existed, but was thankful that there was someplace I could take her.

  I sprinted, tearing through the streets, ignoring the strange looks from the few people I passed. With each street corner, I worried it would be the last breath Talia would take. I could sense the life fading within her and knew that she had little time remaining. Medicines wouldn’t save her, and neither would a surgeon. What she needed was a healer, and not the kind found in places like Eban.

  I stopped in front of the door to the hidden hospital and kicked on it. The door opened quickly, and two short swords jabbed toward me. Hollow eyes peered out at me from the darkness, and the blades lowered. A slim woman with a lithe dancer’s build stepped forward. She was dressed in little more than a sash around her chest and waist. She touched Talia’s skin and throat, and then ushered me inside without another word. We hurried through the building, reaching the lower level, where she led me into the healing chamber.

  Rows of tables filled the space. Fewer were occupied than the last time I’d been here, and this time, most were older women. At least I didn’t see any children as I had the last time.

  I set Talia onto the cot the woman indicated. She barely moved and didn’t breathe at all. I feared it might be too late for her.

  “What happened?” the woman asked. She grabb
ed linens and a basin of water and started to gently wash at the wound. I kept pressure to it, afraid to let go, knowing what would happen if I did.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You weren’t with her?” she asked. She gently pushed my hands away. Talia’s neck started oozing blood immediately. The woman leaned forward and parted the flesh in her neck. With a practiced hand, she sutured deep beneath the surface.

  I couldn’t help but watch, surprised that I would find someone with the skill to do what she did here in Eban; the woman sewed the artery back together.

  I’d seen Isander attempt something similar once. He was a skilled healer and had training as a surgeon, but what this woman managed made Isander’s technique look childish. The bleeding eased and finally stopped. The woman dabbed at Talia’s neck, drying the blood, and then stitched the skin of her neck together with another layer of sutures.

  “Won’t that get infected?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “The deep layer is gut soaked in sournam.” She finished and tied off the ends of the suture, and then bandaged Talia’s neck. The stitching was fine work and wouldn’t leave much of a scar.

  If Talia survived. She’d lost a considerable amount of blood. I don’t know if she’d be able to pull through in spite of what the healer had done for her, but at least she’d have a chance.

  “You are quite skilled,” I noted.

  The healer rinsed her hands in the basin she’d set next to the bed. The water turned coppery from the blood. “Have we any choice?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She sniffed. “Do you think this is the first time one of our women has been brought here for their injuries? Do you think this was the first time I’d seen one like this?”

  I’d seen what had happened here, the work that they did to save those who’d been injured. The last time I’d been here, I had helped to set a boy’s shoulder when the healers hadn’t known how, and had thought that their knowledge lacking. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

  “Will she live?” I asked.

  The healer dried her hands and studied Talia. She breathed, but it was thready and irregular. I touched her arm and noted how cool her skin felt. Too much had been bled out of her, maybe more than she could tolerate. Only, I knew Talia as a strong woman, and knew if any could survive an attack like that, it would be her.