Zae dismounted and they obeyed, stepping deliberately on the three stone stairs. When they were at the bottom, Yenna turned and crouched, lifting the top off the second stair and manipulating a mechanism within. Keren turned her gaze upward. A section of the ceiling was textured differently from the rest; borrowing Zae’s goggles off her head and holding them up to her own eyes with the magnifying lenses engaged, Keren saw the texture resolve to a dense forest of close-placed spikes. It swayed a bit, as if by some unnatural breeze.
Yenna summoned three dancing lights to guide her way and led the companions down the side path. It was narrow enough to require them to walk single-file, and had a disused, undisturbed air about it. Appleslayer lingered for a moment, sniffing, but continued on before Zae had a need to nudge him.
The path opened up into a large rectangular room—a folding screen partitioned off the section of it in which they stood as a common room for the guards who lived here, and it contained books, musical instruments, cards and dice, and other such amusements as might occupy a guard during his idle time. Most of their time had been idle, Keren supposed, since their task had been simply to live down here with the Bloodstone, should anyone happen to bypass the vault’s tricks and traps. Not that their presence had done the artifact any great service when that intrusion occurred.
“Where were the guards … found?” Keren asked.
“Neatly disposed of in one of the pit traps,” Yenna answered. “Mutilated in a precise and careful way.”
As if the thieves intended to cast scorn on the trap, and proclaim themselves too smart to be fooled, Keren thought. She cleared her throat. “Have other attempts on the Bloodstones been made?”
“Of course. They’ve been under our guard for nearly a thousand years, after all. There’s only so much ground in the world, so it’s inevitable that some might stumble upon the vaults, or have their suspicions about where they might be. The guards retrieve the bodies and alert us to the nature of the intrusions. None have ever been great enough threats to cause us concern. Most wander ignorantly around on the surface. A rare few have activated the stones up top. Of those, most are dispatched by traps before the guards need even rouse themselves. Only once, I believe, did a guard need to slay interlopers, and that was for the heart’s stone, in a different vault than this.”
Keren held herself back from the question in the hope that Zae wouldn’t be able to resist asking. She was not disappointed. “Which Bloodstone was housed here?”
“Here rested Arazni’s Glory—her liver.”
Zae opened the cover of one of the books and fluttered through the pages. “Do the guards serve here until they die, or do they retire somewhere?”
“They have the option to retire. Some of them prefer to serve out their days here.”
“There have been several generations of guards by now, I imagine.” Keren tried to phrase this delicately, to avoid suggesting that replacement guards may have been agents biding their time, but from Yenna’s frown she could see that she hadn’t succeeded.
“All of whom are loyal to Iomedae to their last.”
“But, force? Or coercion?” Zae ventured.
“You are not of our order and, with respect, you’re already seeing more of our secrets than an outsider ever sees. Be assured, they are carefully screened and their vows are under constant watch,” Yenna said, and that was the end of that. “Come. There is more to see.”
They followed Yenna back out of the common area and along another brightly lit hallway carved out of the rock. It had smooth walls and a high ceiling, for all that it was fairly narrow. “Down this way is the vault itself. We will pause here at the door.”
The door was a thick, wooden affair, carved with three faces, eyes upraised and mouths open in song. Shadows deepened their creases and the light flickered in ways that almost gave them life, making them angelic and terrifying at the same time. Zae hopped up on tiptoe, but there was nothing to see; no light emerged at the far end of the mouth holes. They were arm-sized tunnels; a person would have to reach her entire arm into the alcove in order to manipulate the lock. And that meant …
As she realized it, Yenna confirmed it. “Each alcove has a keyhole at its end. The first door we entered, and the decoy door to the dead end, also have this configuration. Reach into the wrong keyhole, and a guillotine neatly removes the offending arm. Poison on the blade keeps the wound from healing. There is a pressure plate underfoot—it’s been disabled, don’t worry—that gives way to a pit if someone stands before them deciding for too long.”
The priestess slipped a signet ring on her finger, and produced a key from the folds of her robe. “Even getting the correct keyhole has its penalty. Unless the hand which opens the lock bears a sigil of Iomedae, reaching into the alcove triggers a weakening spell, and opening the lock triggers a curse. It’s a harmless thing to one with no ill intent—any priest of Iomedae will gladly remove it, and there’s at least one priest in every watch. But for anyone who intrudes with theft or murder in mind, it can create a great disadvantage, especially if the same thief successfully unlocks each lock. Their success will come at the cost of the ability to defend themselves.”
Yenna reached confidently into the middle keyhole, and a moment later a deep click resonated from within the door. It swung smoothly open, revealing a perfectly round room. In its center, on a pedestal, was a stone jar with its lid carved into a bust of a grotesque creature. Surrounding the jar was a glowing blue circle of power. Nothing here looked as though it had been disturbed. “Obviously, this is not the actual Bloodstone.”
Keren stared, awed. She had expected defenses, but not multiple decoys upon decoys. “So … This whole vault is false, and it’s a trap?”
“Indeed.”
“And the thief knew this?”
“Apparently. I’m showing you this so that you understand the depth of knowledge required to carry out this theft. And to stress my concern when I say that the first decoy door after the entrance, and this door to the formal decoy vault, were both undisturbed.”
Keren cleared her throat. She could see what Yenna had meant about the intricacy of the theft. Now she also wondered what would make so motivated a thief linger around Absalom. Maybe the times the artifact was unwrapped were different attempts to entice a buyer, but who would go to such trouble without a plan for after?
“Arazni can supposedly feel it when the Bloodstones are used?” she asked. At Yenna’s nod, she continued: “What counts as ‘using’ a Bloodstone?”
Yenna looked pensive. “I believe merely having it on one’s person triggers the effects. That would count as use. It’s also said that she can tell which Bloodstone is active, since they’re all different organs and pull at her differently. That’s why we’re confident our thief must have the Bloodstone in a container that shields it from detection. Otherwise, the Bloodstone would have summoned Arazni’s minions to the entrance of the vault the moment the thief surfaced with it; this facility is, of course, shielded as well.”
“That’s exactly what I was wondering, yes.”
Yenna led the way back to the barracks, to the other side of the folding screen that divided the room into sections. This was the bunk room, and what stood out immediately was a gaping hole chiseled out of the wall.
“That…” Zae murmured. “That’s kind of brilliant.”
“What’s that?” Keren asked.
“Instead of having the artifact in the big fancy vault, you have it in the barracks, where it’s going to be best defended at all times because there will always be guards around it. And it can’t be burrowed to from behind because it’s so far underground, and it’s not on ostentatious display, which it wouldn’t need to be—it’s not like this is a museum where people come to gaze at it. It’s supposed to be hidden away, that’s the whole point, so of course it would be hidden someplace where it wasn’t easy to access, because who would ever need to pull it out again?”
Keren felt an equal measure of her companion�
��s awe. The first thing to come to her mind, though, was not an affirmation of that awe. It was a deep, cold fear that drilled at the pit of her stomach. “Where’s Appleslayer?”
24
TRAIL’S END
ZAE
Zae found she couldn’t pinpoint the moment when Appleslayer had wandered away from her side. She had faith that the dog was, in general, more than smart enough not to wander where he shouldn’t, but this was not a general case. This was a literal minefield, and she wasn’t sure of her step even with the expert guide.
Apple wasn’t among or under any of the bunks, or in the galley, or the privy, or in the common room. Zae whistled sharply and heard his muted bark in response. With a look toward the others, she stepped into the doorway. “Is it safe to traverse the paths we’ve already seen?”
“Yes, as long as you don’t try to open any doors or go up the stairs,” Yenna answered. That was good enough for Zae. Carefully, minding her steps, she followed the echoes of Apple’s bark and the sparse drifts of shed white fur. It hadn’t been a pained noise, or a worried one, so she wasn’t panicked, but she also didn’t know what sorts of trouble he might yet get himself into. The others trailed behind her.
They found the dog in the entry corridor at the base of the three stairs, pacing the well-lit passage between the rigged steps and the first locked decoy door. He was sniffing wildly, nearly losing his balance staring up at the cavern’s ceiling as he paced and circled. When Zae approached, he reared up on his hind legs and pawed at the air.
“His response isn’t unique. We brought our own tracking animals through, and they also caught the thief’s scent in the barracks, and lost it here when he exited successfully. We think he obscured his scent and appearance at this point, in case anyone might have been outside.”
Zae, resting a hand on Apple’s flank, looked upward with him. The spiked platform loomed menacingly above, waiting to be released by the trigger in the second stair. As soon as Zae joined the dog in contemplating the ceiling, he calmed. She knew this behavior: it meant that he had observed something and was now content that others were checking into it. The gnome considered for a moment. “Is there any way we can get the spikes down gently?” she asked.
Yenna seemed surprised by the request, but moved obligingly to the stairs. “Wait in the common room until I call for you. It’s dangerous, and it might also stir up a lot of dust.”
Zae and Apple followed Keren to the other room, where Apple whined an inquisitive noise and wagged his tail expectantly. “You’re a good boy,” Zae told him, rubbing his ears. “Be patient, and we’ll see what you found.”
At Yenna’s call, they returned. The priestess had lowered the spiked drop-ceiling so that its wicked points hovered just above the ground, putting its platform at the level of Keren’s chest. There was something on the platform, but Zae’s attention was on the spikes, which were taller than she was. For the first time since she’d entered the vault, she felt queasy. Fortunately, she had to back up from the spikes to see onto the platform that held them, and that sight distracted her from the flutters in her stomach.
“That doesn’t look like a guard,” Keren ventured.
From Zae’s low vantage, she could see only crumpled black cloth and dried blood. Keren and Yenna circled the platform, pausing to inspect it from all angles.
“What do you see?” Zae asked.
“Cloth and blood. No body. That explains why none of us noticed a smell. The surface is corroded and pitted, but there’s still some blood. One moment, and I will be able to tell you more.” Yenna pulled a curl of parchment out of a pouch and flattened it on the wood next to the corpse. Then she took a vial from a pocket in her robe and allowed two drops to fall on the blood, reconstituting it. She narrowed her eyes in concentration and murmured a spell, reaching out to touch her fingertips to the bloodstained platform; the same spell Zae had attempted in the library.
The spell had not worked on the blood Zae had found, but when Keren leaned over to look at the parchment, the surprised look on her face was enough to tell Zae that writing had begun to appear on it.
“His name was Ferrin Tark,” Yenna read from the parchment. “He’s been dead a week, weakened in battle and then stabbed in the back. He was a necromancer from Ustalav. Our investigators assigned to the Whispering Way might well recognize his name. It seems that they were the culprit after all, not that that helps us now.” She rolled the paper tightly and tucked it back into her pouch.
“Was he our thief?” Zae asked, at the same moment as Keren said, “But if he’s our thief…”
“Then where is the Bloodstone?” Yenna finished. “Indeed.”
“What if all the times it’s surfaced, it’s been changing hands?” Keren asked.
Yenna shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. It’s still in the city, and therefore we still have a trail to follow.”
“Stabbed in the back…” Keren mused. “Even if a guard had stabbed him in the back, a guard wouldn’t have moved him and left his cloak like that. It’s like someone tried to hide the body and then the body, what…?”
“Took care of itself, like the Arazni cultists do? Maybe whoever killed him did something to the body after he died,” Zae said. “But the stab in the back was what technically killed him.”
“And someone who was with him decided to take the treasure and run?” Keren added.
Zae frowned. “Would that make him the mastermind or the minion?”
Yenna brushed flecks of blood from her fingertips. “Well, now that we have his name, we can find out. More importantly, he was weakened in battle. Our thief likely let the necromancer and the guards weaken each other, and delivered the final blow to him here, right before the entrance. Then, in his haste, he didn’t disarm the final trap. The spikes fell, but he managed to survive them. Then he thought he would hide the necromancer’s body here and raise the platform, but he destroyed the body first, so that there would be little to find and trace back to him.” Her brow creased. “So now we have a new avenue: we will track down our departed Master Tark and see what we can learn about him, about his associates … and about how he learned to bypass the secrets of this vault. His trail should lead us to whoever has the Bloodstone now.”
Yenna stepped around the block of spikes and manipulated something near the stairs. She paused. “We’ve been over this vault repeatedly; I didn’t think anything would come of visiting it again, but I was wrong. We should return to Absalom.”
“Will you use this vault again?” Zae asked. “I notice you’re taking care to keep the traps and locks functional.”
“We won’t return the Bloodstone to this location, but we may use it for something else in the future. We will have to see how widely the knowledge of its location has spread. It may even be useful to have an empty vault to serve as a decoy, with plenty of traps yet no treasure at all.”
Zae skirted around the giant spikes. “I think that would be extremely deterring. I would ask you to reset this one, but I don’t know if I’m bothered more by seeing how large these things actually are, or not having to see them but knowing that they’re hovering over my head.”
“I will have the remains removed and returned to us, so the spikes will stay down for now. Come around carefully, and we’ll be on our way.”
They emerged into a hot, barren twilight, and Yenna transported them back to Absalom, where the afternoon sun was still in the sky.
She gave orders for the necromancer’s remains to be collected, and checked in with the people she’d dispatched earlier. All but two names on the list had been accounted for; they were all members of different institutions or organizations around Absalom. The Arcanamirium. The Scriveners’ Guild. The dockworkers. The theaters in the Ivy District. The courtesans in the Petal District. A seller in the Grand Bazaar. A guard at Azlanti Keep. An errand boy in the Puddles. Ruby at the Clockwork Cathedral. And on, and on.
“So they’re spies, then,” Zae said. “They must be. They wouldn�
�t pick one suspect at each location, but they would plant one set of eyes and ears with nearly every group in the city, so that they’d be sure to find the thief no matter his affiliation.”
“That’s how it looks, yes.”
* * *
They were silent all the way home. Zae rode Appleslayer at a walk, and Keren strode beside them with a hand on Zae’s shoulder. Zae had never been happier to hear the sad trickling of the lumpy orange fountain. Even the inexhaustible dog was dragging his paws, but he rallied a last surge of energy as they turned on to their street.
Zae built up the fire and put the kettle on. Once the flames were flickering in the hearth, she sat on the kitchen floor with Appleslayer, removing his saddle and brushing him while she waited for the water to boil. Generous snowdrifts of fur collected in the wire brush. Back in Vigil, Zae had collected the fur and sent it to be spun into fine thread. Her favorite formal gown, stunning white with bell sleeves and cobalt jewels, was made from Appleslayer’s own coat. As for the dog, he glowed under the attention. His tongue lolled happily, and his left ear drooped the way it only did when he was deeply relaxed.
Keren padded out to join them wearing her jade silk robe.
“So, what now?”
“I don’t know. You visited all the sites. Yenna’s people tracked down every name on the list.”
Zae thought of Ruby, her kind and gentle demeanor. Then she thought of Rowan and her stomach soured. His name had not been on the list, but that greenish metal she’d been trapped under had been enough to show her where he stood. “I’d like to think they’re not really accomplices, that maybe they’re just being used, but…”
“Possession and scrying, you mean? I suppose it’s possible, but there were a lot of names on that list. It would be a lot of work and constant vigilance to monitor all those people all the time. The simpler explanation is that they’re willing accomplices—but they might not be really willing. They might have been coerced into cooperating.”
Pathfinder Tales--Gears of Faith Page 21