They’d stopped on a street corner out of the way so as not to block traffic. Brigid had his horse’s bridle in her hand and a frown on her face. “We’re trying to figure out how we’re going to get out of the city.”
“So was I. My mental library has an atlas with information on a variety of cities including this one.” He told them about the sewers as a potential escape route. “I just can’t figure how we’ll get the horses out.”
“Sewers, huh?” Silas scratched his chin. “I always wondered how the Thieves Guild smuggled drugs and alcohol in. They must have access to the old imperial sewers. I’ll wager for the right coin we could use those tunnels and hire someone to lead the horses out for us.”
“Drugs and alcohol are legal in Carttoom,” Yaz said. “Why would they need to smuggle them in?”
“To avoid the heavy gate tax.” Silas shrugged. “Smuggle them in and you don’t have to pay.”
“Can you trust thieves?” Brigid asked.
“To a certain extent,” Silas said. “We’ll pay a fraction up front and the rest when they return the horses outside the wall. If they want to get paid, they’ll play it straight. Also, people tend to be less willing to betray a wizard, so we’ve got that going for us.”
“Do you have a contact in the Thieves Guild?” Yaz asked.
“That’s the problem. I only know them by reputation and what Carnack told me about the protection money he pays. I’ve never dealt with them myself.”
Yaz rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So how do we make contact?”
“We’ll have to wait until tonight. There’s a couple places in the slums, an opium den and a whorehouse, where we might find someone.”
“And how do you know about these places?” Brigid asked.
Silas had the good grace to blush faintly. “I was in a bad state of mind for the first few months after I killed the baron’s son. I hit the pipe a few times but didn’t have a taste for it. The whorehouse was three doors down. I figured if one sort of distraction didn’t work, maybe another would.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not proud of some of my past.” Seeming eager to change the subject Silas asked, “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”
“Let’s go across town and find somewhere to hole up,” Yaz said. “I don’t like being on the street with the whole city guard looking for us.”
“I second that,” Brigid said.
“Thirded,” Silas agreed. “I know a place we can use and it’s not that far from the opium den.”
Yaz and Brigid shared a look. He had no desire to get too close to an opium den and he doubted Brigid did either.
Silas must have noticed their reaction. “Don’t worry, the tavern’s a good three blocks away, practically in another neighborhood. I’ve done business there. The locals are good people, just down on their luck. Kind of like us.”
“How many of them do you think would turn us in to get the reward?” Yaz asked.
“Best keep that tidbit to yourself.”
Silas tapped his horse on the side and they set out across the city. It took nearly twenty minutes to make the trip. They passed an occasional guard, but no one looked at them twice. If they could have heard Yaz’s heart racing every time one of them looked his way, then they would’ve been very suspicious.
The trip ended at a single-story building with swinging double doors and a long hitching rail in the front. A small sign featuring a frothing mug was the only indication that it was a tavern. No words were written anywhere so Yaz had no idea if the place even had a name, not that he hoped to be here long enough for it to matter. As long as it was quiet, he wouldn’t complain.
They dismounted and tied up. Brigid reached up to remove her helm, but Yaz touched her arm. “Best wait until we’re inside. Never know who might be watching.”
She lowered her hand and they entered. The interior was dim and empty save for a single old man snoring loudly under a round table in the center of the common room. He must have had quite a night.
“Are they even open?” Brigid asked.
“The doors weren’t locked,” Silas said. “This place doesn’t get much business until after the locals return from work and need to blow off some steam. About sunset it’ll fill up quick.”
They settled into a booth on the left-hand wall. The bench was nothing but bare boards without even a hint of padding. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 9
Yaz felt certain there were worse ways to spend a day than sitting in a cheap tavern sipping the least offensive drink on the menu, in this case a sour red wine, but at the moment he would have been hard pressed to name one. By the time the sun set and noisy, laughing locals started pouring in, he was ready to take his chances fighting past the gate guards. Judging by the deep frown creasing Brigid’s face, she agreed.
“Isn’t the opium den open by now?” Yaz asked.
“Let’s go see.” Silas stood and slapped half a dozen silver scales on the table. The money had to be looked at as rent since they hadn’t drunk more than a few coppers’ worth of wine between them.
“Should we take the horses?” Brigid asked when they were outside. The sun had set and only a few guttering lanterns lit the street. The ruddy light made everything seem more sinister than when they arrived.
“They’ll be safer here than where we’re going,” Silas said. “This part of town might look rough, but for the most part the people are decent. Where we’re going, they’ll steal the shirt off your back if you’re not paying attention. We’ve got all the really valuable stuff on us anyway.”
“Marvelous.” Yaz gestured for Silas to lead the way. “After you.”
Only a block from the tavern, the character of the neighborhood changed for the worse. Men and women in rags slouched in alleys. Some looked at Yaz with pleading eyes while others didn’t even register their passing. He couldn’t say which horrified him more. And the less said about the stink, the better.
His mother mentioned the darkness in the world, looked like tonight he was going to get an up-close look. Brigid clutched his arm and stared straight ahead. She hadn’t put her helmet back on and he didn’t have the heart to say anything. Getting spotted by the guards might be the only thing that kept them from getting their throats cut.
“This is horrible,” Brigid said.
Yaz had no argument to offer. If anything, horrible sounded too generous for this part of the city.
Silas stopped in front of a building that made the tavern look like high-end real estate. White smoke billowed out of a door that was really just a carpet hanging from a rod. It carried a sweet smell that made Yaz’s nose tingle.
A woman that was little more than a skeleton with skin covering it brushed past them and went inside. The brief view revealed rows of beds covered with people sucking on smoking pipes, ecstatic looks on their faces.
“Best if you don’t breathe too deep,” Silas cautioned.
After this side trip, Yaz never wanted to breathe again. Silas went in first. Yaz held the rug aside for Brigid then followed. Soft moans and sighs filled the air, mingling with the smoke. At a short counter the bony woman argued with a full-figured matron about sixty dressed in a far too tight red dress.
The woman from outside was waving her hands and pointing at the rack of fifteen pipes hanging from the wall behind the matron. For her part the heavyset woman crossed her arms and shook her head.
“Fine!” The bony woman threw up her hands and stalked back out after glaring at Yaz and his friends for good measure.
Silas approached next. The moment the matron saw him she opened her arms like she wanted a hug and beamed. “Welcome. Our pipes are the best, cheap too. Does everyone want their own or will you share?”
“Neither,” Silas said. “We want to talk with your suppliers. The one that provides the cheap stuff.”
Her welcoming expression vanished in an instant. “You’re not in the guild. No outsiders allowed in the business.�
�
“We’re not interested in the business, we’re interested in the tunnels.” Silas flashed one of their precious gold scales. “Tell your suppliers we’ll pay well for access.”
The moment she saw the coin curiosity and greed flashed across her face. “What do you want to bring in?”
“Nothing. We’re interested in exporting, not importing. I’m not talking to anyone besides your supplier. We’ll wait in the alley across the street for two hours. After that we’ll try somewhere else.”
Yaz and Brigid followed Silas back out. The moment he was clear of the building Yaz coughed and took a deep breath. Awful as the smell was, at least it helped clear his head.
“Should you have flashed that gold coin?” Brigid asked.
“Probably not,” Silas said as they walked across the street. “But I needed some way to get her attention.”
“From the look in her eye,” Yaz said. “I’d say you succeeded.”
They moved a few feet into the deserted alley. Yaz was grateful for the darkness so he couldn’t see what he was walking through. Some of it squished and some splashed, once in a while he even hit cobblestone.
The wait for the Thieves Guild representatives was mercifully brief. A trio of men emerged from the opium den and walked straight over to them. They didn’t have any obvious weapons which struck Yaz as a good sign. On the other hand, they might just be a distraction.
“I’ll back up Silas,” Yaz said. “Would you keep watch from the other way?”
“No problem,” Brigid said. She pressed her back to his and raised her walking stick.
Three new arrivals stood facing Silas. They wore dark tunics, torn trousers, and sandals. None of them appeared over twenty. Not exactly the top of the food chain, or so Yaz assumed.
The central man, a guy not much older than Yaz, with dark hair and skin said, “Talk.”
“We need a way out of the city that bypasses the gate,” Silas said. “We’ll pay anyone that can provide such a thing and that leads our horses out for us.”
“And you think we can provide you with such an exit?” the thief asked.
Silas shook his head. “Let’s not waste each other’s time. I know you use the old imperial sewers to bring in goods and avoid the gate tax. I could probably find my own access point and get out that way, but we don’t want to use your territory without permission. We’re peaceful people and wish to avoid conflict if possible.”
The thieves reached behind their backs and came up with long knives. “You want to avoid conflict,” the leader said. “Hand over everything you’ve got and we’ll let you walk out of here.”
Yaz laid a hand on Silas’s shoulder. “Let us handle this. Brigid.”
Silas stepped back to give them room. Brigid moved to his right as far as the alley allowed. The thieves’ knives only had six-inch blades. They had no hope of closing given Yaz’s and Brigid’s reach advantage. The way they were looking at each other suggested they knew it.
Yaz raised an eyebrow. “No shame in backing down.”
The leader snarled and lunged at Yaz.
His staff shot out like a striking serpent, hitting the thief on his extended fist, crushing his fingers and sending his knife clattering to the street.
The other two attacked together.
Yaz took the left and Brigid the right.
A hard strike at the wrist disarmed the second thief.
Yaz followed it up with a slashing blow to the left knee, sending his opponent to the ground beside his weapon.
Brigid took a more direct route, slamming her opponent’s head with a powerful overhead strike. He dropped and didn’t move beyond the rise and fall of his chest.
Silas took his place at the front and said to the thief still able to walk, “I told you we wanted to avoid a fight, not that we were willing to be robbed. Now, take a message to someone with actual authority. We’ll pay one gold scale apiece for safe passage out of the city plus five silver scales for each of our horses on delivery beyond the wall. Anyone else comes after us and you’ll be taking them to the casket maker. Clear?”
“Clear,” the thief said through clenched teeth as he held his shattered hand. “You know where the city cemetery is?”
Silas nodded.
“Midnight by the statue of Death. If the bosses are willing to meet, that’s where and when.”
“We’ll be there,” Silas said.
The still-vertical thief helped his limping friend to his feet and the pair of them shuffled off back to the opium den, leaving the third man where he lay. Perhaps someone would come collect him later. At least it didn’t look like he had anything worth stealing.
The group left the alley with Silas in the lead. Yaz had no idea what might be waiting for them, but a meeting at a cemetery didn’t seem like a good omen.
Caped and cowled, faceless and indifferent, that was Death, and her statue embodied those truths. Twelve feet tall and standing on a six-foot raised base, the statue of Death stared out over the City of Bells’ cemetery. Yaz couldn’t imagine what the people who built the cemetery were thinking. Wasn’t it depressing enough to have to bury a loved one without doing so with a robed ghoul watching you? That might have just been him. In the valley, when someone died their body was cremated and the ashes spread over their farm or somewhere near the village for those that lived behind the walls.
It was twenty minutes to midnight and a bright half-moon shone high in the sky. The day’s heat had dissipated, but the humidity remained. Midsummer had barely come and gone so they still had weeks of horrid heat to endure. Beside him Brigid hugged herself though he doubted she was cold. Standing in the deserted graveyard would give anyone a chill. At least the horses were untroubled by the oppressive atmosphere.
Silas had released Wicked from his pouch and the dragon skull was hovering around Death’s shoulder. An undead dragon skull seemed the perfect companion for the goddess.
“Think they’ll show?” Brigid asked.
“It’s easy money and thieves like easy money,” Silas said. “Someone will show up. Whether to do business or to try and rob us again is the real question.”
“Would they be so foolish?” Yaz asked.
Silas shrugged. “If they kill us, disposing of the bodies will be easy enough.”
“You’ve got a sick sense of humor, you know that?” Yaz asked.
“You’re not the first to say so. I…” Silas cocked his head. “Do you hear that?”
Yaz held his breath and listened. There was a faint tapping. Sounded like it was coming from the statue. He looked up, but Wicked wasn’t touching it. Anyway, the noise came from lower. He took a step closer.
A line appeared in the base of the statue and a moment later a door swung open.
Yaz scrambled back as a torchbearer emerged followed by a quartet of men armed to the teeth. One of the heavily armed men shifted, revealing a sixth man in the center of their formation. That had to be the boss. He was in his midfifties, lean and hard, with a cold expression that said he’d kill you as soon as look at you.
The guards parted and the leader stepped out in front. “You want to do business, roughing up three of my boys isn’t the best way to begin.”
Silas had nerve enough to grin. “You try to rob someone in an alley, you’d best be ready to face the consequences. You’re clearly a professional. I assumed you’d appreciate that. What should we call you?”
“Uncle will do,” he said. “No need to introduce yourselves. Silas Stormcrow wanted for murder. Yaz and Brigid, no last names given, also wanted for murder.”
Yaz’s heart sank. If he knew who they were, no way would he help rather than claim the reward.
“Ordinarily, I’d say you were my kind of people,” Uncle said. “Unfortunately, those two at least have guild bounties on them. I have to honor that and turn you in.”
“The Thieves Guild will honor a bounty from the Scriveners Guild?” Silas asked, his tone incredulous. “Why?”
“It�
��s a courtesy thing. We put bounties on runaways or squealers and the other guilds honor those bounties. How long do you think that would continue if we didn’t live up to our end of the bargain? I don’t suppose I can convince you to come quietly?”
Silas barked a laugh and Yaz readied his staff. He felt more than saw Brigid tense up beside him.
“If you wanted to bring us in,” Silas said. “You should have brought more men.”
“These four are my best.”
“That a fact?” Lightning sparked around Silas’s hands. “Any of them wizards?”
Uncle took a step back and his guards closed ranks when they noticed the magic crackling around Silas’s hands.
“Because if they’re not, you’ve got a serious problem.”
Silas thrust his hands forward and blinding light shot from his fingers. Yaz looked away for a second and when he turned back Uncle and all four of his guards were on the ground, little sparks shooting off their bodies as they twitched.
The torchbearer reached for his daggers, but a single hard look from Silas froze him in place. Yaz hurried over and disarmed him. Up close he looked younger than Yaz first thought, maybe fifteen at most.
As he took both daggers Yaz whispered. “Keep your wits and nothing will happen to you. Sit down and stay still.”
The boy slumped to the ground, seeming to keep hold of his torch out of reflex. When Yaz rejoined the others Silas stood over Uncle, arms crossed and looking none too happy. Brigid just seemed frozen in place, totally overwhelmed. He knew how she felt.
“Are they dead?” Brigid asked.
“Not yet. That was just a paralysis spell. It takes a lot less energy than a lethal blast. Besides, we still have things to discuss. Yaz, could I borrow one of those daggers?”
Yaz offered him the longer of the two blades hilt first. Silas pressed the blade to Uncle’s throat with his right hand then snapped the fingers of his left. The sparks vanished from Uncle’s chest and he seemed to relax a fraction. The fear in his wide eyes didn’t ease in the slightest.
The Mysterious Coin Page 6