by C S Vass
Without having much of a choice Fiona stumbled after Shifter leaving the ruined building and her only friend in two years behind her.
Chapter Four
Shifter led her down several winding alleys and past dozens of grey houses. City guardsman ran past them at every turn with weapons in hand racing towards the chaos. At last they reached a small red brick house that sat inconspicuously underneath a lemon tree.
“Shifter, what’s happening?” Fiona asked. “What was that explosion?”
“Not yet,” Shifter said. The godling held out a dirty green vial to her. “Drink that, it will make you feel better.”
Fiona did as she was told. As she drank the slimy liquid it burned her throat and made her stomach roil, but almost immediately she began to feel some strength return to her muscles. Meanwhile Shifter was tapping away at the door.
“What is this place?” Fiona asked. “How did you know where I was?”
The secret-keeper declined to answer and instead stepped back. The door melted away like wax off of a candle and revealed a simple room inside, not unlike the one Fiona was already staying in.
“I keep a few places in the Stone District just in case I need to slip away,” Shifter said. “We won’t be bothered here.”
“Great,” Fiona said. “Can we get some light, it’s pitch black.”
“Of course,” Shifter said. She noticed that the voice that came from underneath the hood was rather adult. Shifter was speaking as a male with a deep baritone, which she had never heard the godling use before. In an instant a bright blue orb was hovering over the wooden table, casting a cool ambience over the room.
“So,” Fiona said as she took her seat. “It’s been a while.”
“Not for me,” Shifter shrugged.
Fiona sighed. She should have figured that a godling alive since who knows when wouldn’t pay much heed to the passing of two years.
“I’m sorry your return to the city hasn’t been more welcoming,” Shifter said. “Obviously things in Haygarden aren’t running too smoothly.”
“What else is new?” Fiona was determined to bury the emotions that she had let show during the chaos following the explosion.
“Everything and nothing. I suppose you want to know why I sought you out? Well, simply put it’s because there’s a lead on Rodrick, and while you’re in the city I thought I owed it to you to let you know.”
Fiona’s heart leapt to her throat. The blue light above them suddenly seemed a lot dimmer.
“Here, have some water.”
She accepted it and drank deeply, not having realized how badly she needed it. As the water refreshed her and cleared her head, she had a terrible thought.
“Is Rodrick responsible for that explosion?”
“Perhaps. Right now I’m more concerned with you. I haven’t been tracking you so I don’t know what you’ve been up to. I thought you deserved some privacy after everything that happened. In truth, I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“Nice to see you too,” Fiona said bitterly. The ache of losing Aureno, no matter how briefly she had known the man, weighed heavily on her.
The godling betrayed no emotion, or at least none that was visible without somehow peering under that hood. After a lengthy pause Shifter said, “I don’t want to involve you more than you want to be involved, Fiona. But you have to understand. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t show up to a city in chaos and pick and choose the parts you want to be involved with. You can’t—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Fiona’s eyes were knives. She rose to her feet. “How dare you? You think that I pick and choose my own adventures? Like this is some kind of a game to me? You think that I’ve found anything enjoyable about being involved in court here from day one?”
“Get it out if you have to,” Shifter said. “You can yell at me. I don’t care. But what you don’t understand is that you’re not the only one suffering. You have a way out, regardless of what you think. You can walk away from this. Your friends like Sasha and Martin don’t have that luxury.”
The rebuke stung Fiona like a whip. She had to control every fiber of her being not to ask Shifter the meaning behind those words. But she was proud, and pride won out.
“I only want to know why somebody nearly blew me off the face of Tellos, and what you know about Rodrick,” she said. She braced herself for a fight. Perhaps the godling would tell her how selfish she was being, how nearsighted her anger was making her.
“What you don’t understand is that there’s nothing extraordinary about what happened in that pub,” Shifter said.
Fiona’s frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Shifter rose, and walked around the room for a moment muttering to nobody in particular.
“There’s no easy way to talk about what Haygarden is like now for the mortals who live here,” Shifter said. “It’s hell. Duke Redfire, whatever else he may have been, was the keystone that held this city together. Without him there are warring factions everywhere. Tellosian moneylenders coming in and leveraging their economic muscle, the Forgotten operating in the shadows, and religious fanatics left and right preaching to anyone who will listen.”
“What does this mean?” Fiona asked, flabbergasted. “Lunatics are just blowing up random taverns?”
“Not random,” Shifter said. Fiona was surprised to detect a note of anger in the godling’s voice. “Geoff had hoped you would have improved your awareness somewhat in the time you’ve been gone. He’ll be disappointed.”
“What are you—”
“It wasn’t random,” Shifter interrupted. “There were Tellosian moneylenders in the bar. Prominent ones. Their deaths will send a message.”
“So who killed them? The Forgotten?”
“Perhaps.”
“I should have known better than to try and squeeze information from a godling,” Fiona complained. “What do you want from me Shifter? If you only found me to tell me something about Rodrick then tell me and be gone.”
“Very well,” Shifter said, rather somberly. “Not that it matters, but Rodrick is still serving the Vaentysh Boys. They’ve been inactive for quite a time, but they are plotting something. I don’t know much, but I believe that they may be searching for some kind of weapon. Only…”
“Only what?”
“It’s unclear. The Tellosian government believes that they may be trying to permanently leave Tellos.”
Fiona let the words linger, trying to detect any emotion in them. There was none she could decipher.
“They are of course wrong,” Shifter continued. “The Vaentysh Boys will not abandon their quest to restore Tellos to the days of old. They’re certainly up to something, though what it is I can’t be sure.”
Fiona bit her lip. She wanted desperately to believe that this was a lead that she could follow through to the end, but her disappointments had piled up around her like corpses on a battlefield over the last two years. She not longer had the optimism of her youth.
“Shifter, was Rodrick responsible for that explosion? Either directly or indirectly?”
Shifter turned his back and paced around the room. “Directly, certainly not. Indirectly…who am I to say? The smallest actions in this world are as rainwater on fertile soil. The drops cannot always see the seeds that wait beneath the earth. I would venture a guess that whoever did it hates the presence of Tellosian moneylenders in the city, which would give them a common enemy with the Vaentysh Boys. But there are many who share those sentiments these days.”
“I see.” Fiona sighed. There would be no easy answers from the godling. That much was certain. “So how bad is it? Can Sun Circle handle what’s happening?”
“That remains to be seen. Sandra certainly has a much different game to play than her father ever did, and I’m not sure that anybody could have properly prepared her for what she now faces. But surely you didn’t want to come here and discuss such matters of state.”
“I suppose not,” Fiona
said.
“I will not force you into politics when you’ve gone through such extensive efforts to get away. However, Fiona, I will ask you to do one thing that I know you won’t be happy about.”
“Oh?”
“Speak with Sasha. She’s not well, Fiona. She needs you.”
Fiona felt as if another explosion had gone off at the mention of Sasha’s name. She had to struggle against her own instinct to ask how her old friend was doing and find out what was so wrong that Shifter and Donyo felt the need to bring it up after everything that had happened.
She hardened her heart.
“I think not. I’m sure whatever she’s going through, Sasha can handle it.”
“Very well,” Shifter’s voice had changed. It was still that of an adult, but became softer and more feminine. “I will respect your privacy while you are here, but I have to issue you this warning at least. You must be careful with your plans. I’ve made a point not to monitor you, but all the same I know of the path you walk. It is not a road that you can turn back from, once you go to far.”
Air rushed from Fiona’s nose like a bull. Nothing ever changed here. She still had no trust from anyone. “Speak plainly,” she said. “I’m too tired to parse through your riddles, Shifter.”
Shifter’s shadow on the wall grew longer as the blue light above them intensified. The soft, feminine voice turned old and hard like the gnarled root of an ancient oak. It was a voice eerily similar to the crone Suomo’s.
“The manjeko is not for you, Fiona,” Shifter warned. “You do not understand the powers that you’re meddling with. You are not meant to contend with such dark forces. I implore you, leave it be and seek other methods of achieving your goals.”
Fiona slowly approached. She was a good two heads taller than Shifter, and looked down upon the godling through eyes that burned like green fire. “So much for taking your pains not to monitor me,” she said with mild disgust. “I plan on minding my own business while I’m in Haygarden, Shifter. I suggest you and the rest of the rat’s nest of a court in Sun Circle follow my example, and we’ll all be the better off for it.”
Shifter nodded. There was nothing more to say.
Later that day Fiona turned over all the information she had learned in her mind. It was clear that her access to court was going to be limited. So be it, she wanted nothing to do with the command of Sun Circle anyway at this point.
Still, with the manjeko not working properly she needed to find some way to search for Rodrick. What if he was behind the rune-bomb explosion and this was her one chance to find something out? But where to turn? Smiley and the Tellosians he represented seemed to need her far more than she needed them.
Then it dawned on her. Perhaps most of the organizations in the city were unable to help her, but there was one new element in Haygarden that had started building a reputation for itself. It was a long shot, but someone might know something and finding out was better than sitting around waiting for Rodrick to burst in through her front door.
* * *
Not fifteen minutes later Fiona moved down the streets of the Stone District as discreetly as a passing shadow. The rain from earlier had stopped but the air was still wet and cold and dirty slush piled the streets. Her hood was pulled over her head and to anyone watching she was just another anonymous cloak crawling through the labyrinth of Haygarden’s poor district.
They tend to congregate at a filthy little tavern here in the Stone District—The Spotted Weasel. That was what Donyo had said. She stopped and approached a beggar-woman who was slumped against a building.
“I need to find the Spotted Weasel,” Fiona said. She flipped the woman a piece of silver from Smiley and at once her eyes turned as round as the coin she had just received.
“Down this road until you reach the tanner’s shop. Make a right and continue on. It’s on the left, but keep a steady eye out. It’s easy to miss.”
Fiona nodded and before continuing on her way decided to chance a question. “What can you tell me about the Forgotten?”
The old woman stared at her blankly, and then spit on the ground. Fiona nearly walked away when the beggar said, “Cut-throats and murderers. You’re just a young thing. You go down to that place and ask about them and they’ll end up selling you for parts. Go home, girl. You don’t want what they have to offer. What brings you there? Drumba? I can help you find an easier way than going through them boys.”
Fiona simply tossed the woman another coin and continued on her way. In a city with so many factions and no way to know where a person’s loyalties lay it was better not to linger.
She followed the instructions and eventually found herself coming upon a plain wooden house with piles of snow covering the walkway. Attached to a support beam was a hastily made sign with a worn picture of a weasel that probably once named the tavern but now the only visible letters were the large S and W above the weasel’s head.
Fiona pushed the door open and immediately felt a blast of heat as she stepped inside. She found herself in a room that was surprisingly comfortable given the dingy outside appearance. There were couches sprawled around a large stone fire-pit dug into the floor. Garlic, onions, and an assortment of herbs hung from the ceiling behind the large wrap-around bar in the far corner of the room.
Not entirely sure what she was doing, Fiona approached the bar. A woman with sharp blue eyes, a thin mouth, and curly blonde hair nodded while she cleaned a mug. “What’s your poison?”
Fiona smiled. “Something a little harder to get most places,” she said.
The barmaid rolled her eyes. “New in town I take it? Well we do everything by the books here in the Spotted Weasel. We don’t just let any filth that stumbles in from the street take the run of the place.”
Fiona placed a piece of Smiley’s silver on the table, making a mental note to ease up on using them in the future. “I can respect that.”
The woman picked up the silver and bit it. “Silver’s clean, but are you?”
“Watch yourself,” Fiona said. “I like to play nice, but I know other games too.”
The barmaid shrugged. “Whatever you say. I’ll let the lot downstairs figure out what to do with you. Cause any problems and Brandon will feed you to the dogs before feeding you to the dogs, if you understand me.”
“Like I said, I can play nice,” Fiona said.
The barmaid tapped a quick rhythm on the bar. “Go tap that on the wall yonder. A doorknob will appear and you can go in. Understand?”
Fiona nodded and moved towards the wall. She quickly repeated the rhythm, and a circular golden doorknob slowly poked out. She gripped it with her hand, and pushed to reveal a staircase that descended downward into a stone cellar.
It was time to meet the Forgotten.
Chapter Five
The tunnel extended downward and then opened up into a circular stone chamber with a dark wooden floor. Torches placed in metal sconces lined the walls casting shadows from the two-dozen people in the room in multiple directions. Red drapes cut with cloth-of-gold hung from the ceiling between the fires and gave the area an ambience of comfort. The smell of something sour lingered in pinkish fumes throughout the room, blown in thick clouds from the ends of long curved pipes.
Nobody paid much mind to Fiona as she walked down. A group of men were rolling dice on the opposite side of the room. Most folks were by themselves, smoking in peace. It was immediately obvious who was running the operation.
He was wearing a fine blue woolen tunic and simple woodland-green cloak overtop it. His brown eyes found her, and he nodded for Fiona to come over. He had a plain face with a large curved nose and pale skin. On the table in front of him was a dangerously sharp blade caked in blood.
“I don’t remember seeing you around the campfire before,” he said.
“I don’t often go camping,” Fiona replied.
“Always a first time for everything.” His voice was thick, but not unkind. Fiona found him all around a hard man to read,
as his face betrayed no expression and his eyes no emotion. “What’s your name?”
“Fiona. And you are?”
“Brandon. So tell me Fiona, why have you come to our cozy little cave?”
“I’m looking for somebody, and I’d like to recruit the help of your organization. Perhaps we can go somewhere a little more private to discuss this?”
Brandon smiled but his eyes were as lifeless as the wood on the table between them. “What exactly do you have to offer, Fiona, that I would care to undertake such an endeavor?” He looked her up and down, eyes crawling over her in a way that made her feel like her clothes were being stripped away. “You know, I have to sample everything that we offer to customers here. Can’t have our reputation in jeopardy because of lower quality products.”
She took a knife out from inside of her cloak and slammed it so that it stuck into the table, then placed a piece of silver beside it.
“I think myself a fair woman, Brandon,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “But not one to be intimidated and especially not one to be insulted. I’m coming to you with a business opportunity. So you can treat me like a potential business partner, or I can hang your ballsack from the ceiling. So which will it be? Silver or steel?”
To her surprise Brandon smiled. “Very well, Fiona. I can respect that you didn’t come here to sell yourself for a hit of drumba and a spot by the fire. I apologize if I’ve given offense. Let us speak somewhere a little more privately. Daelin!”
A sleepy-eyed man with large hulking shoulders came forward.
“Watch the room.”
Daelin nodded.
“You may follow me, Fiona,” Brandon said, and swept away. Fiona followed him into a small back room where he sat behind a table that had some weighing scales and several assorted piles of gold and silver.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the plush cushioned chair opposite his own. From beneath his desk he found a jug of wine and poured two long thin glasses full of pale pink liquid.