Buka was gaining on her. She caught a glimpse of him, blood streaming down his shoulder and left arm. His face was twisted with hatred and the intensity of a hunter keen on his prey. She also saw the glint of metal in his hands—knives meant for her. She screamed, wondering whether the innkeeper and his guests would bother to rouse themselves. A sharp pain exploded through the back of her head, and Aidane stumbled as a rock bounced behind her. She could feel something warm and sticky begin to drip down her neck. She was almost to the back door of the inn, but there was no guarantee that the innkeeper hadn’t thrown the bolt. Another rock caught her between the shoulders, and a third found its mark against the other side of her head.
Aidane fell but she kept on crawling, even though she could hear Buka just steps behind her. Somewhere, there has to be a weapon, she thought, but the ground near the hitching rail was bare. She dug her fingers into the dry dirt and flung a handful in Buka’s face just as he reached down to grab for her, then rolled to the side as he clawed at his eyes. She kicked hard at his kneecap, scrambling to get back to her feet before Buka could see again.
Suddenly, the shadows began to move. Aidane caught her breath. Her magic sensed no spirits, and yet shadowed shapes were closing in on them from all around the yard. Featureless, yet with the bodies of men, the shapes moved silently and swiftly. Aidane braced herself to fight, curling her fists tight. The shadow shapes were nearly upon her.
A flash of silver streaked through the air. Crimson fountained from Buka’s throat and a look of surprise crossed his face. His hands clutched at his open flesh as blood continued to gush down his chest. More silver streaks hissed through the cold night air, piercing Buka’s body with deadly accuracy. The shadows grew closer. Their approach was silent and their movements had the fluidity of dancers. Buka gave a hoarse cry and collapsed in a pool of his own blood, his chest studded with silver knives.
The shadow shapes gathered around Buka, and one of them toed the body over and then bent to yank a charm from the strap around his butchered throat. He tossed the talisman on the dirt and ground it under his heel.
Aidane felt the ghosts clustering around her, abuzz about Buka’s death. But more than that, Aidane could feel the ghosts swarming around the shadow men. Not just gathering around them, but entering them, bidden by the fighters whom Aidane could now see were dressed in head-to-toe costumes of black that hid all but a strip around their eyes, where the skin had been blackened with coal.
“What are you?” Aidane challenged. She had not relaxed from her defensive stance. Buka was dead, but she had no idea what fresh horror the shadow men had planned. Maybe they’re just Black Robes, dressed in a different way.
One of the figures stepped forward and slowly removed its black hood. To Aidane’s surprise, it was a woman. She was tall and lean, with angular features that spoke of Trevath blood. “Don’t worry, serroquette. We’re not here for you. But we knew your ghost magic would draw Buka to you, as it drew us. That’s why we followed you here.”
“Assassins,” Aidane breathed. Her eyes widened. “Then it’s true? I’d heard tell that there were assassins that allowed the spirits of dead fighters to possess them. I thought they were just stories. The ghost blades are real?”
The woman’s thin lips quirked upward, but not quite to form a smile. “Buka’s dead. You’re not. Might be safest for you to forget anything you saw out here and let rumors remain rumors.”
Two of the ghost blades hefted Buka’s body between them, and the woman replaced her hood. Aidane turned as she heard the sound of the bolt on the back door being drawn back, and when she looked again, the ghost blades were gone.
The innkeeper bustled out into the yard, armed with a cleaver from the kitchen. Two other men with swords followed unenthusiastically behind him, while Aidane could see faces pressed against the upstairs windows. “What in the name of the Crone is going on out here?”
Aidane took a shaky breath to steady herself and willed her hands to relax out of cramped fists. “There was a man in the barn. He came after me. I stabbed him with the pitchfork, but he chased me and threw rocks at me. He must have heard you coming,” she said, licking her lips and stealing a glance toward the shadows where the assassins had disappeared. “He ran off.”
The innkeeper looked from the pool of blood on the ground to Aidane, and his eyes widened. “Dark Lady take my soul! You’re bleeding. Come inside.” The innkeeper shot a glance at his two unenthusiastic assistants. “Go fetch her cloak and blankets from the loft. Two sturdy men with swords shouldn’t be afeared of a highwayman with holes in him.”
Goaded to protect their honor, the two men glared at the innkeeper but set off at a trot for the barn.
“I’ll clean her up. No reason for the rest of you to miss your sleep. Go on back to bed,” the innkeeper said, waving off the onlookers, who gradually filed back into the building and left the windows now that there was nothing to see.
“Did you hear me scream?” Aidane asked as the innkeeper led her into the kitchen and bade her sit on a bench by the worktable.
The innkeeper soaked a rag in cold water from the pump and daubed carefully where the rocks had cut her. Now that the danger was past, Aidane could feel her head and knee throbbing, and she realized she felt light-headed.
“Drink this,” the innkeeper said, pouring a measure of poitin into a cup and handing it to her. The raw, strong liquor burned her throat, but in moments, it also dulled her pain. “No, I didn’t hear you scream. Sorry about that. I wouldn’t have suggested you sleep out there if I’d any thought of robbers.”
“Then what woke you?”
The innkeeper had gone behind her to finish cleaning the matted hair and blood from where the rocks struck her head. “Vivian woke me. Funny, but in the year since she’s been gone, she’d never made herself known by causing mischief. But she pulled the sheet off me and tugged at my feet, and then everything on a shelf in my room crashed to the floor and the window swung wide open. Well, you can imagine it woke me up. Thought there was a burglar in my room. When I didn’t see anything except my sheet and the things from the shelf lying on the floor, I got up to close the window, thinking how it might have been the wind that done it. That’s when I saw you down there.” He paused. “And I saw the shadows.”
Aidane’s heart skipped a beat. He might be safer if he never realizes what he really saw. “Whoever it was must have been a blood mage. There were shadows all around, and they nearly got me. I’m so glad you came when you did. You scared them off.”
The innkeeper nodded. “Thought it was something like that. I imagine magic like yours draws bad ghosts, too, like moths to a flame.” He refilled her cup and pushed it back to her, shaking his head at her objections until she drank the clear, fiery liquid. Not only had the pain dulled, but Aidane found that it took a great deal of effort to focus her eyes.
“You’ll spend the rest of the night inside, where it’s safe,” the innkeeper said. “You can sleep in my bed.” At her raised eyebrow, he blushed. “No, not like that. I’ll sleep down here. It’s just that my room has the only available bed tonight, and you look like you need a good night’s sleep.”
Aidane went to stand, but her legs were wobbly from the shock and the poitin. The innkeeper got an arm under her shoulder and helped her make it up the stairs and into the bedroom. Vivian followed, keeping a watchful eye on Aidane. When they reached the room, Aidane saw the outline of an ample woman’s form beneath the covers and a cloud of curly red hair on the pillow.
The innkeeper helped Aidane to get into bed and drew the sheet up over her. “Now get some rest.”
Protesting her gratitude in slurred whispers, Aidane sank down onto the bed and was instantly asleep.
It took a day for Aidane to recover before she could even think of putting her gift to use for the amusement of the inn’s patrons. The innkeeper refused her coin for lodging, and Vivian told her that it was out of guilt for not better safeguarding Aidane. She noticed that the innkeeper
’s reticent humming had grown into a near-constant medley of tavern favorites and old songs sung in a passable baritone. Vivian, who had not left Aidane’s side as she recuperated, was back at the end of the bar, happily swaying to the music.
The morning of the third day, Aidane came down to breakfast and found the innkeeper unusually pensive. She had gone to bed early with a throbbing headache and guessed he was unhappy that her earnings for the night would be less to share.
“A vayash moru came around looking for someone who sounds a lot like you,” the innkeeper blurted before Aidane could say anything. “After you went to bed.”
Aidane felt a chill. “What did he look like?”
The innkeeper leaned on the bar and gave Aidane a measured look. “Tall. Thin. Blond hair tied back. Had an odd accent, like he wasn’t from around these parts.”
Kolin. Aidane paused to make sure her voice was steady. “Did he say why he wanted to find me?”
The innkeeper went back to cleaning the bar. “Not really. Asked if I’d seen you, said he was looking for a fortune-teller who could see spirits. Then he asked if there’d been any disturbances ’round here. Had the feeling he knew just what he was looking for.”
Aidane realized she was holding her breath. “What did you tell him?”
The innkeeper met her eyes. “Seein’ as how I owe you for Vivian and all, I said I hadn’t seen you and that we’d had a quiet couple of nights. But I don’t think he believed me.” He looked down. “If you want to avoid him, I don’t think you can stay on here. Had the feeling he’d be back.”
Aidane swallowed hard. “Thank you. I’ll leave right away. I hadn’t really intended to stay long but—”
The innkeeper shook his head. “I’m right sorry about everything. If that biter hadn’t come around, I was thinking of letting you stay on as long as you like. But for a nice girl, you seem to have some bad people looking for you. I don’t think it’s safe here.”
“It isn’t. You’re right. And I’m sorry for bringing trouble on you. I’ll be on my way.”
The innkeeper insisted on packing a large cloth full of bread, sausage, and cheese for Aidane to take with her, and he gave her a full wineskin, though she protested that her journey was only back to the city. To her surprise, the innkeeper gave her an awkward hug before she left, thanking her profusely for letting him know that Vivian was still with him. Vivian regarded Aidane with sad eyes as she packed up her few possessions to leave.
Do you have to go so soon?
Aidane managed a sad smile. I’m sorry I can’t stay.
Vivian considered this for a moment, and then nodded. I hope I see you again. I like you. And my daddy sings to me because you told him I could hear it. I like that, too.
Aidane knelt down to be on eye level with Vivian. You’re a brave little girl. You saved my life. Thank you.
Vivian rushed forward, arms open, and Aidane dropped her shielding. For a moment, she felt Vivian’s spirit cling to her, pass through her, and for a few seconds, the child’s memories poured through her mind in a giddy profusion. Vivian drew back, separating them, and looked at Aidane wide-eyed.
Lady Bright! You can hug ghosts! I’ll miss you, Aidane.
I’ll miss you too, Vivian.
Aidane straightened and smoothed her skirts. The innkeeper and his wife were watching her, and Aidane smiled self-consciously. “Vivian just wanted to say good-bye. She’ll stay close to you, so please keep singing to her.”
The innkeeper swallowed hard and nodded. “Don’t worry ’bout that. We will. Travel safely, so that you’re safe by dark.”
Aidane’s sore knee slowed down her journey, and after a candlemark her limp made progress difficult on the cobblestone streets. She reluctantly parted with two copper coins to pay a passing wagon master to take her into the heart of the city. The winter day was gray and rainy, matching her mood. Aidane felt exposed and vulnerable in the open streets. Here in the alleys and ginnels where the poor lived, no one had spread the word that Buka was no longer to be feared. People moved furtively, glancing over their shoulders.
Aidane drew a deep breath, trying to shake off her gloomy mood. I’ve proven that I can earn good coin without whoring, she thought to herself. Maybe not the gold I earned as a serroquette, but enough to keep me warm and dry and fed. I won’t have to live down in the tunnels for long. Maybe I can find a tavern or two topside to let me come ’round a few days a week.
Kolin’s visit to the innkeeper made her sigh as the wagon jostled through the busy streets. If I show my face more than once in a tavern here in the city, Kolin’s sure to find me. He doesn’t understand the risk I am to the queen. Berwyn would feel honor-bound to take me back, but I’m only going to be fuel for her critics. She doesn’t need that. No, maybe I need to keep to the tunnels until the war ends. After that, I can make my way back to Dark Haven, where Jolie said she’d have a place for me. And if Kolin still wants me, then who’s to say it’s not love?
“I’ll drop you here, but no farther,” the wagon master called back to her. “Can’t figure out why anyone in his right mind would be about in these parts, let alone a woman.”
She paid the wagon driver, who seemed anxious to leave, and she made her way down the narrow, refuse-heaped alleyways. Aidane shivered as she ducked into the crumbling, abandoned building with its entrance to the cellars. Though she knew that Buka was gone for good, other dangers lurked all too often in places like these. Cutpurses, drunks, and dreamweed addicts all stumbled their way here to die.
Aidane made her way amid the broken crockery, stray leaves, and scurrying rats toward the far side of the cellar, where the entrance to the tunnels was located. She slowed, noticing a movement in the shadows. But before she could scream or run, a voice called out to her.
“Aidane? Is that you?” The shadow moved, and Aidane recognized Ed. She let out the breath she was holding and felt as if she might collapse.
Ed opened up the shutters on his lantern, flooding the cellar with light. He gave her a hug and put an arm around her shoulder. “You’re hurt. What happened?”
Aidane managed a shaky laugh. “I’ll tell you once we reach Kir’s place. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to lean on your arm while we walk.” She paused. “What are you doing here?”
Ed shrugged. “Been coming up to look for you each day ’round this time. Part of me hoped you’d done well enough for yourself that you didn’t need to come back here, much as I’d miss your smiling face,” he said with a playfully flirtatious grin. “But mostly, I was worried. I wanted to make sure you got in safely.”
“What do you mean?”
Ed sighed. “The folks topside seem to have convinced themselves that the plague is all the fault of those down below. There’s been a new bout of plague; lots of people died. Another reason I was hoping you didn’t come back, for your own safety. Anyhow, at some of the entrances to the tunnels, there’ve been men waiting with clubs to attack anyone who comes out. Couple of regulars got killed. Ugly stuff.”
Aidane realized that Ed had a long, thick staff with him. “Thank you,” she said, repressing a shiver.
She leaned harder on Ed’s arm than she wanted to admit as they made their way through the maze of tunnels back to Kir’s place. The tavern was quieter than usual, though Kir greeted her with a shout and a mug of his watery home-brewed ale.
“Where is everyone?” Aidane asked, thankful to take a seat and rest her throbbing leg.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Ed said, pulling up a chair next to her. Like most of the furnishings in the tunnel, the chair was a broken cast-off, with one leg splinted back together and still too short, so that the chair wobbled fiercely. “People are scared of the plague. Scared enough that they aren’t even coming out to drink.” He nodded toward Kir. “Yesterday, about the only coin Kir earned was going down the tunnels with a bucket of ale and a jug of poitin, clanging his ladle on the bucket. Those who wanted a drink put out a mug and a coin and he filled them up
from outside the door.”
“Damndest thing,” Kir said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen people scared before, but not too scared to drink. I can’t say I liked wandering around myself, but I need coin to pay for the supplies to brew with and the food to serve.”
Ed gave Aidane a level glance. “Now, I’m guessing you’ve got a story to tell, Aidane. You’ve got a couple of good knots on the back of your head and a knee swollen twice its size. What happened?”
The two drunks in the corner of the tunnel bar were fast asleep and paid no mind as Aidane told her story to Kir and Ed. They listened raptly as she recounted her success with Vivian’s ghost and the tavern’s patrons, and were wide-eyed at her escape from Buka. Aidane omitted only the role of the ghost blades, but she ended the tale in a way that left no doubt that Buka was dead.
Kir and Ed both gave Aidane a round of cheers when she finished, and Kir slid another ale toward Aidane. “On the house, for the slayer of Buka! By the Lady, I’m honored to know you! Don’t you worry none,” Kir said, wagging a finger at Aidane. “You’ve got a warm bed here without having to take clients if you tell fortunes and speak to spirits in the tavern here instead of topside. That might be enough to coax people out of their holes once word spreads.”
“Thank you,” Aidane said wearily. “I wouldn’t mind it being quiet for a day or two so I can recover, but then I’m happy to earn us both some money talking to the spirits.” Kir went off to a side tunnel to tend the still, and Aidane leaned toward Ed.
“I’m sure the problems up above will blow over. Why don’t you come topside with me a few days a week? We could work our way around the taverns, you doing your hedge witching and me with my fortune-telling. Come back here until we’ve saved enough to go back to Dark Haven. Maybe your musician friends would go back with us. What do you think?”
The Dread: The Fallen Kings Cycle: Book Two Page 37