He hoped it was good.
Finally, Greymond came back to the present with a slight frown. “I’m getting a sense that there’s more to this than what we know. A possibility of great upheaval in Audland.”
Kadka shrugged. “Not so different from other cases, then. Tinga still needs help.”
“Probably needs it more, if this is bigger than we think,” Tane agreed, trying not to show how shaken he was. Greymond was probably the most skilled diviner in a land full of them—her predictions might not tell the whole story, but they were rarely wrong, and he didn’t like the sound of ‘great upheaval’. It certainly didn’t help dispel the notion that Endo and his Knights might be involved. But she’s avoiding the real point. “The question is, does it get better or worse if we go straight to the bluecaps?”
And Greymond’s answer told him all he needed to know. “You have one night.”
Chapter Five
_____
DUSK WAS FALLING by the time they returned to the Hall of Spirit’s Hearth, and a drizzle of rain fell from a hazy green sky, soaking through the raggedy clothes Tane had scrounged up so that he and Kadka would blend in. Better than they had before, at least. He couldn’t help but note the similarity to Porthaven at sunset, the way the shadows of Greenstone’s tall factories cast early darkness across the cluttered homeless camp.
In the failing light, the people of the Nest gathered together, some sitting around small communal fires despite the rain while others huddled close for warmth under the leaky cover of the tents. Bondsman Laeris and a few volunteers moved from group to group, ladling out bowls of some hot soup or stew, and though the portions looked meagre, no one tried to take more than their share.
Tane and Kadka wove their way through the grounds, looking for a shadowed spot to keep watch. Both of them wore old shawls over their heads to hide their faces from scrutiny and protect against the rain, but Tane’s was already soaked through. Anything particularly effective against cold or damp would have stood out too much. The best he could do was hunch and wrap his arms around his chest for warmth. And it was hard to tell that chill from the one that ran down his back whenever he heard nervous voices murmuring about the Knights of the Emperor. They have good reason to be afraid, if Liana’s divinations were on target. And they always are. Something is going on here, and it has to be more than a few missing people.
A scrawny goblin man heading in the other direction, towards Laeris and a hot meal, bumped into Tane and stopped to apologize. “Sorry. Hey, you look cold. C’mere, let’s get you some o’ that soup and get somewhere dry.”
Tane shook his head under his shawl. “Thanks, but I already had some.” They couldn’t afford any attention—best to find an innocuous spot outside the larger gatherings.
Kadka took him by the elbow. “Will make sure he finds warm place. No worries.”
“Right. Good luck, it’ll be a wet night.” The goblin moved on with a tip of his head.
Kadka watched him go for a moment, toward a fire where Laeris was passing around bowls. “Good people here. Share what they have.”
“And yet you rarely see anyone acting like that in the Gryphon’s Roost,” Tane said dryly. “I wonder why.”
“Is hard, being rich.” Kadka grinned. “So much coin, is heavy. Good of them to take this burden from us.”
“Right. A real sacrifice.” Tane didn’t look back at her; his attention was elsewhere. Ahead, a dwarf in a longcoat and wide-brimmed hat was talking to a group of people taking shelter in a nearby tent. Definitely not a resident of the Nest, by his clothes—not terribly fancy, but clean and intact. His short brown beard was too tidy as well, trimmed close to his face. He wasn’t facing Tane and Kadka, but Tane thought he caught a quick glance in their direction.
“Carver?” Kadka followed his eyes, saw the man as well. “You know him? Doesn’t belong here.”
“Don’t know him, but I think he was looking at us. Spellfire, he’s coming this way. Look natural.” Tane lowered his head when he saw the dwarven man start toward them, but their eyes met before he could look away. Well I doubt he missed that. Still, he hunched deeper in his shawl and kept walking.
“Hey. You two.” The dwarf had a low, gruff voice.
Tane stopped, but didn’t raise his head. “We’re just looking for a place to sleep. You want something?”
“Drop the act. We’re here for the same reason. You want to come talk, or should I start saying ‘Magebreakers’ real loud?”
And that was enough to make Tane look. “I’d really rather you didn’t.” Up close, he could make out an old pink burn scar running up the left side of the dwarf’s neck and lower jaw, leaving a bare patch in his short brown beard. And something else strange: the left sleeve of his longcoat hung empty, and the coat was draped over his shoulder on that side, hiding the arm.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t looking to draw eyes to you,” the dwarf said. “Professional courtesy, we’ll call it. Over here.” He beckoned them to follow and led the way to a dim, abandoned length of the perimeter wall.
Kadka looked at Tane and raised a shaggy eyebrow. “With Knights, you think? Could be trap.”
“Maybe,” said Tane. “But we don’t have much choice here. We’re on a time limit, and we don’t find anything tonight if he starts yelling about Magebreakers.” He slipped a hand into his pocket, felt for the repulsion charm he’d stowed there—they’d stopped at Bastian Dewglen’s black market manufactury for a few supplies before coming. “Be ready.” Side by side, they followed the stranger into the shadow of the wall, muddy earth squelching underfoot as they walked.
The dwarf was waiting for them, leaning back against crumbling stone. “Glad we’ve all decided to be reasonable.”
“Who are you?” Kadka demanded, one hand resting behind her back on the hilt of the knife she kept tucked there.
“Lefty Lodestone. Ma named me Lorek, but since you ain’t her, Lefty’ll do.” Sudden movement under the left side of his coat, and it fell away from the hidden left arm.
It wasn’t anything either one of them could possibly have expected.
Lefty extended his arm as if to shake hands, except it wasn’t so much an arm as an artifact. A hand of small pistons and hinges and thick brass fingers connected to a pivoting ball-joint at the wrist; the arm above was a dark, varnished wood carved into a facsimile of living musculature and inlaid with copper lines and glyphs. Another brass hinge played the part of his elbow, with a large piston connecting forearm to bicep. His shoulder was brass as well, and oversized, like an armor plate. A hatch sat in the center of it that had to hold the gems that powered the apparatus.
Automaton, was Tane’s first panicked thought, but he knew it was wrong even as his heart surged painfully against his chest. The rest of the dwarf was clearly living tissue. And such things had been tried before, false limbs that operated by magic, though they had mostly been deemed failures—too heavy, too clumsy, too expensive. Ancryst pistons didn’t provide enough fine motor control to truly replace an arm, and the balance on false legs was never precise enough to walk without toppling.
And this particular arm was unusual in another way. Lefty’s outstretched palm was of a different metal than the brass hand—copper, unless Tane missed his guess, and etched with several glyphs. A separate artifact. Maybe a weapon. Tane shot Kadka a glance, shifted his eyes pointedly toward the arm, and shook his head slightly. Don’t shake that hand. In response, she just tightened her grip on the knife behind her back.
“Not going to shake?” Lefty flashed a sardonic half-grin and retracted his arm. The pistons barely made a sound—he must have kept them well-oiled.
“Nothing personal,” said Tane, trying not to betray that he’d noticed the etched palm. Or maybe he wanted me to notice. If he’s trying to put us off balance, it’s working. “But we don’t know you, and you didn’t call us over here just to exchange pleasantries.”
“No,” Lefty agreed, sliding his coat back over his brass shoulder-pl
ate with his right hand.
“Why, then?” Kadka hadn’t relaxed, and her eyes were still fixed on the arm under Lefty’s coat, but she let her hand stray from her knife—just to her hip, not so far that she couldn’t reach it later.
“Been talking to people, heard the Magebreakers had been here,” Lefty said, his voice low. “Wasn’t a hard guess when I saw you creeping around, woman your size. Too big for a human, too small for an ogren.”
“That doesn’t give us a reason,” Tane pointed out. “I want to know why you’re so interested in us.” He tipped his head at Kadka. “And you’d better get to it. She doesn’t like waiting.”
“Is true. Talk fast.” Kadka bared her teeth in a grin that was almost a snarl.
“Fair enough.” Lefty shrugged, unperturbed. “Wanted to size up the competition. You’re looking for one of the missing ones, right? Same reason I’m here.”
“You’re some sort of investigator?” Tane looked the man over again. Too rough around the edges for a bluecap, although he did have a hint of that bearing—an arrogant confidence, like he owned the scene just by being there.
“You can really follow a clue, Carver,” Lefty said with a smirk.
“I’m just surprised there’s so many people interested in this case.” If he’s telling the truth, whoever’s doing this really should have picked their targets more carefully. But then, I don’t know who’s paying him. “Did a family member hire you, or…?”
Lefty gave a short shake of his head. “Don’t bother. I don’t talk about clients. They pay for me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Very professional of you.” It wasn’t an unreasonable stance, but something was bothering Tane. A name came to mind, a man who had a reason to keep his involvement quiet, given everyone who was looking for him. But what would Endo have to gain? It didn’t add up, at least not yet. At this point, it could be anybody.
“But if we are here for same reason, we could work together,” said Kadka. “Share what we find. Better to help more people, yes?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Lefty said. “I work alone. You’re still competition, just wanted a look at you.” Another smirking grin. “And now that I’ve had it, I ain’t all that worried.”
“So you led us over here just to insult us, then,” said Tane. “Not much for first impressions, are you?”
Lefty shrugged. “What’s the point? We ain’t friends and we ain’t going to be. But there was one other thing. Figured you’d notice me sooner or later, and I wanted to tell you the place is yours for tonight. We both stick around and we’ll be tripping all over each other. Not doing you a favor, mind. I just got better things to do than waste my time.”
Kadka narrowed her yellow eyes. “Fine. You tell us this. Is done.” She cracked her knuckles loudly. “Maybe you go now, while you still have teeth. More you talk, less time you have.”
Lefty’s smirk disappeared. “Might not be as easy as you think. But I’m not looking for a fight, and you don’t want the attention.” He straightened from the wall and shoved his way between them with his mechanical left shoulder. “Hope I don’t see you around.” With that, he tipped his hat brim down over his face to protect from the rain and walked away, heading for the nearest gap in the outer wall.
Kadka turned to watch him weave his way through the Nest, her fists clenched. “Don’t like that one.”
“I don’t think he cares,” Tane said, and kept his eyes on Lefty until the dwarf ducked out of sight through the wall. “Unless that was him being charming, in which case he could really use some practice.”
“Is telling the truth, you think? About working same case?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s being paid to track someone down.” Tane dipped two fingers into his pocket to rub his watch case. “I just have a feeling they’ll be better off if we find them first.”
_____
Kadka yawned and rolled her head to work out the crick in her neck. Watching and waiting was her least favorite part of this job at the best of times, and being stiff and wet did nothing to help. The rain had only gotten heavier as the night went on, and now it was falling in fat drops that her already soaked shawl did nothing to deflect.
There was a small hill in the back corner of the Nest, and sitting against the wall there she had a clear view of the camp over the tops of the low makeshift tents. There was no one else nearby—the rest of the residents had sought out places with better shelter from the rain. Most of them were asleep now, with midnight come and gone, and the only remaining activity was centered around a few scattered fires.
But the fires weren’t where the kidnapper would strike. Kadka was focused on the dark areas, watching the corners and shadows. There was no cover of night against orcish eyes.
Across the camp, she could see Carver in his shawl and ragged clothing, hunched against the rain, moving between tents. He didn’t see well in the dark—which had always seemed terribly inconvenient to her—so he’d decided to get closer in case she missed something. She could see the entirety of the hall’s grounds from where she sat, but her eyes couldn’t be everywhere at once.
Carver completed his circuit and started back toward her. By his pace, he hadn’t found anything interesting. She was starting to worry that no one would come. Not just because she was bored, but because if they didn’t find anything, Greymond would go to the bluecaps. And Kadka knew that bluecaps would never give these people the help they needed. People of all races took shelter in the Nest, but a disproportionate amount were goblins and kobolds, and the rest were almost all magicless. Not a priority. There was a reason most of her and Carver’s clients came from those same groups—they had no one else to turn to.
“Nothing yet,” Carver said, breathing a little bit heavily from his climb up the small hill. He really needed to exercise more. He took a seat beside her. “Anything from here?”
Kadka shook her head. “Only rain.”
Carver sighed. “Well, keep your eyes open, and I’ll do another round in a few—”
“Wait.” Kadka held up a hand, and squinted into the dark near the base of the hill. A flash of movement in the shadow of the wall there.
Someone in dark clothing was vaulting over the wall, landing lightly on two feet as she watched. By size and build, probably a human male. Certainly not the Mask—Endo’s golem had been ogren-sized, near nine feet tall.
“There,” she whispered, rising to her feet and jabbing a finger. The man crept toward a dark mound of rags that was someone sleeping there.
No more waiting, then.
Carver stood beside her. “I don’t see anything. Not that I expected to.”
“No time. Follow.” She started down the hill in a quick, loping stride, hugging the wall.
The man was crouching over the sleeping figure now, and his hand slipped to his waist to produce a wand of some kind—just like Siska had described. Probably just a daze wand, but maybe worse, and Kadka wasn’t going to give him a chance to use it. She pushed herself into a hard sprint over the last distance, reaching back to draw her knife.
He heard her coming, which was surprising—even at this speed, she knew how to move quietly, and the rainfall masked the sound of her feet. The man rose, half-turned, saw her hurtling toward him. His eyes shone strangely bright against the dark. Kadka’s nightvision wasn’t good at colors, but she guessed that in the light those eyes would have glowed silver-blue. Siska had been telling the truth about that too.
And about one other thing.
She was almost on him when he spun, crouched, and leapt over the wall. It was some five feet high; he cleared it easily. Not quite the Mask jumping in a single bound to a second floor balcony, but still impressive. For a human, that had to be magic.
And he had been human, not an automaton. She’d gotten a good look when he’d turned, and the face behind those glowing eyes had been flesh.
“Spellfire!” Carver swore from behind her. “That must be a spell, but without speaking? If he’s concentrat
ing on it while kidnapping people, he’s got better focus than most mages.”
Kadka didn’t answer; they’d have time to figure out what kind of magic it was later. She was already vaulting over the wall. She couldn’t do it in a single bound, but gripping the top let her haul herself up and over in one motion, landing in a crouch on the other side. She heard Carver scrabbling behind her; she couldn’t afford to wait. The man was still in sight, sprinting down a nearby alley.
And he was fast. She pushed herself as hard as she could, and still he outpaced her. Whatever this spell was, she wouldn’t have minded experiencing it herself.
She managed to keep him in sight, though, cutting around the next corner before he disappeared into another alley between two factory buildings, and then again on the next street, always a little bit further back but never quite losing him. And finally, emerging from yet another identical narrow alley, she knew where she was. She and Carver had worked cases in Greenstone before—nothing large, but she’d come to know the streets well enough, and she had a strong sense of direction. People called this Ancryst Avenue, after the ancryst processing factories along the way. The haze in the air overhead was thicker here, venting from stacks at the top of several buildings. Usually it made breathing distinctly unpleasant, but just then the rain was keeping it tamped down somewhat—a slight benefit to spending all night soaking wet. And if she remembered the area correctly…
She bore right and came at the fleeing man from that side of the street, playing on his instinct. Just as she’d hoped, he responded by veering left, ducking into the next alley there.
As fast as this man was, he clearly didn’t know the city like she did. She entered the alley behind him, grinning.
He slowed to a stop ahead of her at a dead end, three stories of sheer brick rising on all sides.
The Dragon Machine (Magebreakers Book 3) Page 4