Heading to the door, she paused, plucking at her shirt over her heart. “What do you think, should I allow myself to get just a little wet?” She winked and wandered out into the rain, closing the door behind her.
I stared at the door, confused. Why the sudden flirting? It felt awkward. Was she trying to distract me, or did this have something to do with her past relationship with Shalayn, whatever it had been? Was she trying to see if I’d betray Shalayn?
Pushing Tien from my mind, I focussed on the task at hand.
Two hours later, I had a crushing headache but felt confident I had the room sufficiently memorized. Closing my eyes, I built the room quickly in my thoughts. If I didn’t want to get caught in a whorehouse, speed was of the essence. When complete, I opened them, checking my memory against the reality.
Perfect.
Nhil said it would get easier, that I’d be able to do it faster, and he wasn’t wrong.
I found Tien standing on the street. Though rain still pounded the city, she remained dry. I swallowed my disappointment.
“Done?” she asked.
“Done.”
“Do you want to do a test, make sure it works?”
While a good idea, I couldn’t risk using souls unnecessarily. “No.”
She nodded. “I’ve talked with my contact at the brothel. Thalman has already been and gone, but I can get you in now.”
My head hurt and I was tired from the walking. Two weeks of glutinous eating wouldn’t undo months of starvation.
By the time we reached the brothel I staggered with exhaustion.
“What’s wrong, old man?” Tien asked.
For an instant I thought she knew my past, but then she winked and gestured at the door.
“In you go. You look like hell and they’ll probably want to throw you out, but show them the money and you’ll be fine. Ask for Batrass. She’s their star whore, the one Thalman always sees. She has her own room. She’s expecting you and will leave you alone to do your thing.”
Tien looked me over and for a moment I saw indecision war on her features, like she wanted to change her mind about all of this. Then she sighed and said, “If you finish early you can have Batrass for a quick roll.”
“No thanks.”
“Suit yourself. Either way, there’s enough in that purse to buy you three hours.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I spent two and a half hours memorizing an empty closet, every crack in the paint, every knot in the wood trim.
Batrass, as promised, left me alone. She seemed more interested in doing her nails than in the black-skinned man in her closet. Apparently, compared to some of the things her clients wanted, this wasn’t all that weird.
When finished, I found her having a glass of wine in her huge tub. She smoked as she soaked, the cigarettes dark and fragrant like a mix of cloves and roses. She watched me gawk at her glorious nakedness, the soap sliding from her, with an utter lack of concern.
“Yes?” she asked, sucking smoke into her lungs and holding it for a long moment. She exhaled it from her nose like a dragon.
“Does Thalman sleep here?” I asked. “After…”
“Half an hour. Then he leaves.”
I wanted to join her in that tub, spend my own remaining half hour sliding around her like that soap.
“Thank you.”
I left.
Tien caught up with me as I stumbled, exhausted, through the street on my way back to the Dripping Bucket. I thought to rent a room there with the coin left from her purse.
“Best not return there,” she said. “Too predictable. People will recognize you.” She gave me an appraising glance. “You do stand out.”
The only man with midnight skin and black hair in a city of pale-skinned blonds. She was right.
I was too tired to think.
“Better to stay out of sight,” she said. “At least for a while.”
I let her guide me back to the rundown house with the illusory room.
“You and Shalayn stayed at the Dripping Bucket, right?”
“Yeah.” I was hungry again.
“You stay anywhere else?”
I shook my head. “I need food. Still recovering.”
“I’ll fix you a meal. You look awful.”
The rain let up before we made it back to the house. The sun made its much-delayed appearance and worms, pale and half-drowned, littered the street where they immediately began baking to hardened husks.
That night was too short. I woke once, when Tien brought me food—a loaf of bread, a selection of aged cheese, sausages and white wine—and then collapsed back into a dreamless slumber.
The next day I rose, still tired, to find Tien sitting on the edge of the bed.
Green eyes studied me. “You’re really willing to do this?” she asked, gnawing on her bottom lip. “For Shalayn?”
I nodded. “It’s my fault they took her.” Which was true. But it was Tien’s fault they found her alone. It was Tien’s fault I was off starving to death in some floating hell.
She stared at her hands, examining her nails. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
She blinked, darted a glance at me. “I misjudged you, thought you were just using her.”
Her words left me uncomfortable. I couldn’t shake the feeling something more was going on. Did she regret the stunt with the ring, sending me off to die?
“You know her well, don’t you?” I asked.
“Better than anyone.” Meeting my eyes, she added, “Better than you.”
“Were you two together?”
She laughed, a soft grunt, and picked at a fingernail. “I might try a deeper red polish next time.”
“You hurt her, didn’t you?”
“Maybe something in a purple.”
“You still love her.”
“I had black for a long time. That seems childish now. Overly dramatic.”
“Afterwards,” I said, “maybe—”
“I don’t want to talk about after.” She tensed for a moment, and then said, “She deserves better than you.”
“Can’t argue that.”
“Good. You should go now. Thalman’s guards just finished searching the rooms.”
“How do you know?”
She rolled her eyes. “Batrass will make sure the closet is exactly as it was.”
“Tien?”
“What?”
“I know you don’t like me or think I’m good for her—”
“You should go now,” she repeated. Tien spun a dagger out of nowhere and offered it to me hilt first.
“It’s not an assassination,” I said. “I’m just going to steal his Chain of Office.”
“If shit goes sideways and you don’t have a knife, you’re going to feel like an idiot for turning this down.”
I accepted the knife and stuck it in the waist of my pyjama pants. I needed to buy real clothes at the first opportunity.
“If you’re going to stay,” I said, “I need you to be quiet while I concentrate.”
She nodded.
“And remember to close the door on your way out.”
Snorting wry amusement, she said, “I will.”
This time it only took a few minutes to build the closet in my thoughts. Praying the Soul Stone had enough souls to get me in and out, I made the transition.
In the brothel, hidden in an empty closet, I listened to Thalman and Batrass talk for several minutes and then fuck for the best part of an hour. Soon after, the gentle snores of a spent man filled the room. Opening the closet door, I peered out. A young man, certainly not beyond his early twenties, slept on the bed. Tien called him a filthy old man. That mages held the keys to immortality seemed another reason to hate them. Then I remembered I’d ruled an empire for thousands of years. How had I extended my life? Had I sacrificed souls to demons for that purpose? It seemed likely.
Batrass sat beside Thalman, smoking one of her cigarettes. She nodded at me but seemed otherwise di
sinterested.
My hatred for the wizards soured. Maybe they were better than demonologists. Maybe they’d been right to topple my soul-devouring empire. Small and grubby as what they replaced it with might seem, at least when compared to my jumbled memories, I hadn’t actually seen any signs of injustice.
I nodded to Batrass and she used her cigarette to point at a pile of clothes. Tilting her head back, she blew a series of perfect smoke rings. Crawling to the clothes, I searched through them. It took only moments to realize there was no chain there. Cursing, I approached the bed, staying low. Batrass watched, an eyebrow slightly raised. Thick waves of lustrous blond hair fell about her shoulders, framing perfect breasts.
Pointing at Thalman, I mimed a chain hanging about his neck.
She shook her head, gestured at her wrist, drew smoke, and blew a ring straight at me.
Rising enough to lift my eyes over the edge of the bed, I spotted the chain. It looked like a bracelet, and not at all what I’d expected. He wore nothing around his neck. Had Tien not known? Had she lied?
There was no way I could reach the bracelet from here. I’d have to stand over the wizard. Praying he was in a deep sleep, I stood.
Of its own volition, the dagger Tien gave me flashed from where I’d shoved it and jammed to the hilt in the wizard’s neck. I stood, staring in stunned shock, as it sawed all the way around his throat.
The wizard’s eyes snapped open. His mouth gaped as blood sprayed everywhere, showering Batrass and I in gore.
I couldn’t understand what just happened.
Batrass screamed, scrambling to escape the fountaining blood, and distance herself from me. No doubt, she thought I’d just killed the man.
Beyond the bedroom door, someone roared in anger.
Snatching the bracelet, I dove into the closet, slamming the door closed behind me.
The door to the bedroom shuddered as someone crashed against it. Wood splintered.
Focus.
Block out the sound of half a dozen armed men battering in the bedroom door and filling the room. Ignore the screaming woman.
I built Tien’s bolthole in my thoughts, piece by piece. The lone bed. The walls and floor. It was a simple room, easy compared to remembering the wizard’s tower.
A thought twisted my stomach. Tien changed something in the room. She set me up, trapped me here. I was a dead man.
Beyond the flimsy closet door men yelled and smashed furniture and Batrass screamed, “He’s in the closet!”
Silence.
I opened my eyes to find myself in Tien’s room.
The knife killed Thalman, not I.
Tien gave me the knife.
“Fucking hell.”
Knowing what I’d find, I crossed to the door. It was locked. After throwing my weight against it a few times I gave up. It was designed to withstand a far greater assault.
“You made it out,” said Tien from beyond the door.
“You set me up.”
“I had to. Thalman was blocking my entrance into the Guild. Your arrival, the timing, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
I glanced at the bracelet I held. “This chain I took?”
“He actually had a chain? No idea what it is. Probably just jewellery.”
“And Shalayn?” I demanded.
“Dead. The Guild found her in the tower. She fought them and they killed her.” A moment of silence.
“You’re lying.”
“I fucking told you to leave! If you really loved her—”
“You’re lying,” I repeated. “You betrayed us.”
“No!” The door shook as if she’d punched it. “I betrayed you, you damned stained-soul!” Her voice rose in anger. “She was supposed to leave! On her own!”
I listened to her sobbing through the door.
“It’s my fault,” I heard her whisper, voice cracking. “My fault.” Again the door rattled, harder this time as if kicked. “You were supposed to die! Only you!”
“Had I been there—”
“You’d both be dead,” she said, voice suddenly flat, drained of emotion. “You’re nothing, could have done nothing.” She cursed. “I wish you had been there. At least you’d be dead too.”
“I’m not nothing,” I whispered.
She was wrong. I would have figured something out, found some other demon to help us escape. I couldn’t make myself believe it.
“I’m sorry,” said Tien, voice breaking. “I really am. I never wanted anything to happen to her.”
I collapsed to my knees, gutted. Shalayn was dead. Dead because of me. Dead because I wanted my past. Dead because I needed to know who I was.
Well, now I knew.
The wizards did this. All of this was their fault. They toppled my empire and they shattered my heart. Tien helped us get into the tower and sent me after a ring that took me from Shalayn. Because of Tien, I wasn’t there when the wizards came.
All this was for nothing. Tien had known, and she’d tricked me again. She used me.
Molten rage burned in me, replaced the emptiness with searing heat.
“I’m going to kill you,” I told Tien.
“Yes, well.” She didn’t sound concerned.
I tried to calm myself, pushing the hate deep. It festered in my gut, helpless, impotent. Anger would get me nowhere. “So, what’s your plan, turn me in to the Guild?”
“Don’t be stupid. You’d rat me out in a heartbeat. You’ll die in that room. You’re already half-starved, shouldn’t take long. Sorry.”
“You realize you’re talking to someone who just teleported in with a demon, right?”
“Sure, but where can you go? You told me you had to memorize a place before the demon could take you there. And you told me the only place you’d been was the Dripping Bucket. I’ve made sure enough changed you won’t be able to teleport.”
Enough changed? “What did you do?”
“Burnt it to the ground.”
Shit. Wait, there was the brothel closet. If I waited—
“The closet in the brothel has been changed,” Tien said. “I had someone toss garbage in there.”
I knelt, staring at the door.
“Yell all you want,” she called from the far side. “No one can hear you from the street.”
Rising, I returned to the bed and sat.
“Are you still in there?”
I waited.
“If you think I’m going to open the door to check on you, you’re even dumber than I thought.”
I waited.
“If you do teleport out,” she called, “don’t come back. I’ll kill you. Shalayn’s death is your fault. You deserve this. Think about that, while you’re in there. Think about what you did to her. I told you it was suicide, and you did it anyway because you wanted whatever was in there more than you cared about her. You got her killed.”
I ground my teeth, locking my rage down deep. I’d only left her there alone because Tien sent us after that damned ring. Somehow, I would have got us both out.
Eventually, Tien tired of shouting at me and left. I listened for a long time before trying the door again. No chance. This thing would take hours to get through with a proper axe.
“I’m not going to starve to death in here,” I told the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Once I managed to calm myself enough I could think straight, the answer was obvious. My options were few: I could try to return to the Dripping Bucket, taking a chance that she lied. Each attempt would cost a soul, and I believed her. There was no way she’d leave me such an obvious escape in such close proximity. I could try the brothel closet, but I had no doubt she hadn’t lied about that either. All she had to do was make sure someone left a broom in there, and it would be rendered useless to me. I could return to the library in the floating mountain, or the rain room in the wizard’s tower, but both would be trading one prison for another.
My mud hut, far to the north, was my only option.
Yet
, I hesitated. It was many weeks north of here. Sure, it was an escape—or would be, if it hadn’t changed too much or fallen apart in my absence—but I didn’t want to return. If I didn’t stumble upon another caravan, it was a long and lonely walk.
Alas, I saw no other options.
I glanced down at myself and laughed. I was still wearing the mismatched pyjamas from the wizard’s tower. Autumn in the far north was cold indeed.
After collecting the sheets from the bed, I searched the room for anything useful. There was nothing. Tien had stripped it of supplies, left the shelves barren.
Sitting on the floor, I began the task of building my mud hut in my mind. The years I spent there, staring at the walls, near mindless, helped.
I won’t bore you with the details of my trip south after appearing in my hut. I made crude tools of wood and stone.
Sometimes animals, ragged and gaunt, wandered from the trees to stare at me. They always fled before I got anywhere near them.
Wearing the bed sheet and pyjamas, I stopped at small towns and begged or stole food. The one thing walking hundreds of miles gives you, is time to think.
Eventually, Tien would check the room. She’d wait a few weeks, until hunger would have left me weak and helpless, but she would check. When she found me gone, she’d wonder where I got to. Would she flee Taramlae, seek to escape my wrath?
Tien would worry, and she’d prepare. With me having killed the man who’d blocked her entrance into the Guild, I had to assume she was in now. Worse still, the Guild would no doubt believe I killed their wizard. Or was all of that stuff about the Guild a fabrication? Had I helped her murder a competitor, or some local politician?
None of this mattered. Nothing could save her. I’d get back to Taramlae eventually. I knew the coffee shop she frequented, and there were people there who knew her. Someone would know where she was. One way or another, they would answer my questions.
With a grin, I pictured the implements of torture laid out in neat rows back in the castle in the floating mountain.
Days of walking did nothing to cool my rage. I was not one, I discovered, to forgive. Not for this. Not for the death of the woman I loved. Tien tricked us, and she used us. I remembered the pain and the doubt in her eyes when I came staggering into the cafe, alone. In hindsight, it all made sense. She thought I’d touch the ring and get whisked away to wherever, never to be seen again. She effectively removed me from Shalayn’s life. The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she saw me as a competitor for Shalayn’s affections.
Black Stone Heart (The Obsidian Path Book 1) Page 17