"Havara, yes. Mountains to the west of here. The Khalalid runs out of them. Myskakroth I've never heard of before. Is it a place?"
Alto's shrug was lost as Mordrim spoke up. "My people live and work down there. The mines are filled with gems and, um, other things."
"Other things?" Garrick asked.
Mordrim nodded. "Dwarven stuff. You wouldn't understand."
The northerner scowled. "I'm a passable smith."
"Friend or not, there's dwarven secrets that aren't mine to tell."
Garrick snorted. "Probably where you cut the balls off your men and call them women."
Mordrim's eyes widened and he muttered something in his own language under his breath.
"How do we get him back?" Patrina asked. "That has to come first!"
"Can we get him back?" Kar added.
Alto nodded. "We'll find him. Kar and Patrina, find out what you can about Myskakroth and that witch. The rest of us will go look for him."
"No!" Patrina snapped.
Alto looked at her, surprised at the ferocity in her voice.
"You and I spend a few quiet moments together, then we go separate ways and something bad happens to us—"
"We were all but together last night," Alto reminded her.
She waved him silent. "I will fight at your side. Namitus is more than just a friend."
Alto frowned. "Last night proved I can't keep you safe, even when you're beside me. I won't lose you."
Patrina shook her head. "No, it proves that when we're not together, neither one of us is safe. Now stop arguing with me. You know I'm right and even if I'm not, I'm coming with you."
Alto sighed and shook his head. "All right. To the baths then. I need to grab some fresh clothes."
"Buy them on the way," Patrina said. "Taldar won't want his boat smelling like sewer."
* * * *
Alto tugged on the chain shirt that fit snugly across his chest. He glanced down at it, frowning, and then twisted his thick neck to pop it and relieve the tension that all the delays had caused him.
"Bah, plenty of breathing room in here," Mordrim said as he clanged his fist against his breastplate.
"He sat in a wagon in my armor before down here and nearly blacked out from the heat," Patrina said to the dwarf. "I was beside him."
Mordrim pressed his lips together and then nodded. "Humans can't handle the heat like dwarves can," he muttered.
"You could make him some armor like Patrina's," Garrick suggested and openly appraised the revealing armor the kelgryn princess wore.
Alto shook his head. "We're wasting time. Kar, do you need Garrick and Mordrim again?"
Garrick's face paled. He shook his head and earned a chuckle from the wizard. "I'll have nothing to do with that!"
Kar grinned before explaining, "Some of my acquaintances down here are unusual."
"That witch used to be a man!" Garrick blurted out.
"And in some ways—well, one way, at least, she still is," Kar reminded him.
Garrick's cheeks burned red as he looked away. Mordrim shook his head but said nothing. Alto looked between them and turned. "Carson, will you go with—"
"I don't need a chaperone!" Kar said. "I've been moving about this city and pissing people off long before you were born. While you do have a talent far better than any I've ever seen for making enemies, I assure you, I can handle myself."
"So could Namitus," Alto reminded him.
"He went into a viper's den," Kar said with a shake of his head. "I'll be going to places with people I know."
Alto frowned but after a moment of thought he nodded. "Be careful," he cautioned. "We've been betrayed every step of the way so far."
Kar chuckled. "Of course, but the trick is to expect the unexpected. Then it's not unexpected anymore!" The wizard saw the confused looks on their faces. "Because it's expected, you see? Look, it's really quite—"
"Just go," Alto said as he waved the wizard away.
Kar scowled and turned away with a harrumph. He strode down the street and was quickly swallowed by the crowds.
"What are we to do?" Patrina asked.
"Start looking," Alto said. "Namitus told me once that beggars and thieves are good sources of information. They're all connected, he said. Or at least in bigger cities. Let's start there."
"Hold," Mordrim barked. When they turned to look at him, he glanced around and said, "Might be that I know somebody who can put us on the trail."
"Might be?" Garrick repeated.
"What do you know?" Alto seconded.
"In the Foreign District," the dwarf explained. "Dwarves do a lot of business here. Our work is shipped down the river and sold, but sometimes we need to grease a few palms or maybe work out special arrangements. Just the way business is done here."
"How will this lead us to the Stalkers?" Alto asked.
Mordrim frowned and glanced about again. "Keep your voice down, boy. The people we deal with do a lot of business in the Shadows, if you know what I mean. With the right story, I expect they can put us in touch with someone who might know something."
"The right story?" Patrina asked.
"Aye, you're not thinking we can walk up to them and say, 'Hey, where's our friend?' do you?"
"I can be persuasive," Alto said with more than a hint of menace in his tone.
Carson grimaced and nodded, verifying Alto's claim.
"And you might need to be," Mordrim said without batting an eye at the implication. "That won't encourage them to meet us though, will it?"
"Oh, I get it!" Garrick blurted out.
Mordrim snorted. "Seems your father didn't use you as a club to train his dogs after all."
Garrick glared at the dwarf but couldn't respond before Alto spoke.
"Take us there," Alto said. "Tell them whatever you need to. I don't care."
Mordrim rubbed his hands together and nodded. "All right, let's be off then. To the Foreign District!"
Mordrim led them down the main streets of the city, pausing only when they saw a group of city guards. With Alto, Carson, and Karthor's exploits at the palace explained, they didn't want to risk any trouble. With the infrequent stops and winding path around the palace, it took them over an hour to make their way through the crowded streets.
The Foreign quarter was separated from the rest of the city by a wall with a large gate in it. Guards manned the gate but they paid little attention to anyone entering or leaving the district. The traffic thinned considerably inside the Foreign District, allowing them to more easily see the various houses and shops.
At one time, many of them looked to have been very impressive. Outlandish designs and materials had been used on a few of the larger buildings and shops, but now they were faded and falling into disrepair. Smaller residences were made of the mixture of sand and mud. In many buildings, holes and cracks littered the walls.
"People live in these?" Garrick asked.
"Beats a cave or a tree limb," Carson opined.
Garrick glanced at the ranger and nodded. "Even the least of my people has the help of his clan to provide a place to lay his head."
"These are outsiders," Mordrim reminded them with a touch of bitterness in his tone. "People the royals need, but don't like. They're different. Dwarves, elves, splisskin, ogres, and more."
"Ogres?" Garrick growled.
"Not many, but a few. Hard to beat an ogre when you need a strong back for labor."
Garrick snorted. "I've put my strength against theirs and survived."
"Well, you're a bit of an ogre yourself," Patrina reminded him. "Now let Mordrim take us to his contact."
Garrick scowled but fell silent and trudged along with them.
Mordrim took them into a couple of shops before he found one that focused on selling metal wares, from weapons and armor to trinkets and jewelry. He walked up to rap his metal-clad knuckles against a counter hard. Someone coughed and swore behind the counter, and then picked themselves up from where they'd been na
pping on the floor.
The dwarf behind the counter climbed up onto a stool and peered over his large nose at them. "Snord's Armory, what can I do for you?"
"Snord, you blind old fool, don't you recognize me?"
The dwarf squinted and peered at Mordrim, and then grinned wide enough to show a gold tooth. "Mordrim? Heard you'd gone north to stay?"
"I did. But business brought me back down here."
"Who are the tall folk?" Snord asked as he eyed up Mordrim's companions.
"Friends of mine from the north. Trustworthy friends," Mordrim said. He glanced at them all and held Garrick's gaze the longest.
If the barbarian received the message, he showed no sign of it.
"Sounds like you're up to something special," Snord said. "Something fun?"
"Not much fun to be had," Mordrim admitted. "Unless it's putting some uppity humans in their place."
Snord grinned again. "Sounds like fun to me. It's been a few years, but let me find my kit and I'll join you!"
Mordrim held out his hands and waved them. "Snord! No, wait. That's not what I need from you." The dwarf turned and glanced around the shop, making sure no one else was present. "I need to get word to the Shadows. Some special business I need to do."
"Special business?" Snord frowned. "What kind of special?"
"Need some people to disappear," Mordrim said.
Snord's bushy eyebrows pushed together. "Disappear?"
"Yeah, now you see them, now you don't? Disappear."
Snord frowned. "What kind of people? You know I'll help if I can, but there are some things I don't know nothing about and don't want to be involved in."
Mordrim turned his head to look at his friends standing around him. He turned back to Snord and raised one of his own eyebrows to let the man interpret what he wished.
"Oh! That kind of disappear! I thought you meant the permanent kind." Snord chuckled and looked the companions over. "They're all armed and don't look to be slaving. All right, I'll put the word out. Head on over to the Deadtroll Inn and somebody will stop by. Unless it's me—then I'm just looking for a drink with an old friend."
Mordrim chuckled and clapped the countertop. "A fine day to you, old friend. Hurry over. I'll buy that drink."
"You're damn right you will! Business is slow these days!"
Mordrim chuckled and led his friends back out of the shop. Once the door was shut, the dwarf set a new course for the tavern. Alto kept his questions to himself until they entered and found a table near a wall.
"Disappear?" Alto questioned once they'd sat down.
Mordrim grinned. "That's the plan, isn't it? We're going to make some people disappear and get our own disappeared people back."
Patrina frowned. "Mordrim, what sort of work did you do when you lived down here?"
"I was a smith, my lady."
"I know that, and you're a fine one at that."
The dwarf nodded his head to show his thanks. "Got tired of the heavy taxes on what I made. Our mines are surrounded by Shazamir, forcing us to deal with them as our only customers. The prices aren't fair and most of my kin live poor because of it. I reckoned it was time that we found some new lands. Then I started paying attention to the stories told to children about where some of us came from. The mines in the north. That's when I knew I had to try something different."
"So who is Snord?" Alto asked.
"Snord can't see worth a damn anymore," Mordrim said. "But he still thinks he's got the eyes and body of a dwarf fifty years younger. He's a little addled too, I think. But he has connections to smuggle and sell things without the Shazamir knowing a thing about it."
"How is that going to help us find these Stalkers?" Garrick asked.
"Snord? He won't. It'll be whoever he puts us in touch with who can help us out. Whether they want to or not."
"I'm guessing, 'not'," Alto said.
Mordrim grinned. "That's when it gets fun."
Alto was about to chuckle when he spotted someone moving between tables. He stood up just as the short figure stepped through a door and disappeared. His friends rose with him, each looking to see what had bothered him. Alto waited a moment and then shook his head and sat back down. The others followed suit, releasing their grips on their weapons.
"Sorry, thought I saw somebody I knew," Alto said.
Mordrim's eyes narrowed. "Who? Somebody from the palace?"
Alto sighed. He shook his head. "No, it was nothing, I'm sure."
"Who did you think you saw?" Patrina asked, reaching over and taking his hand to give it a squeeze.
Alto smiled as a little color came to his cheeks. "Bonky."
Patrina's eyes widened. "Thork's assistant?"
"That stupid goblin?" Mordrim muttered.
Alto nodded to both of them.
"There are some goblins here," Mordrim admitted. "Not that they do much, mind you. They don't even make good beggars. People kick 'em out of the way."
"That must have been it then," Alto said. "He looked familiar, but there was nothing odd about him."
"Odd?" Patrina asked.
"Yeah, stripes on his skin. Dots. Rainbow-colored hair. The things that Thork's potions do to him."
Patrina laughed and nodded. She remembered her last encounter with Thork. He'd turned Bonky pitch black thanks to a bad reaction to a new potion and the sun. "Probably not then," she agreed.
Alto nodded but couldn't stop himself from looking around. Was Thork nearby, just waiting for them to find him so he could help? They needed it, this time as much as ever.
Chapter 15
While they waited, they ate a heavily spiced stew sparsely filled with fish and snake. Hard bread accompanied the bowls of stew, turning the dining experience into a workout for their mouths. Garrick and Mordrim washed their dinner down with ale while the others stuck with water. Unlike the nicer inn they'd been kicked out of, the Deadtroll Inn had only warm ale.
A few hours passed and Alto was fighting the urge to get up and try something else. He wasn't sure what else, other than looking for beggars or trying to catch a pickpocket in the act, but he felt anything would be better than wasting more time waiting. He turned to Patrina to voice his thoughts when he noticed that a man had approached the table without anyone's notice and was quietly speaking with Mordrim.
Alto nudged Patrina and nodded, earning a startled gasp from her. The man looked up at them and offered a smile that didn't reach his dark gray eyes. He turned his attention back to Mordrim and, after a few more quiet exchanges, he stood up and slipped away back through the crowded common room.
"What was that?" Patrina hissed.
"That," Mordrim paused to finish the last of the ale in his cup, "was the man who's going to arrange for us to be smuggled up the Khalalid River."
"What? Why?" Alto asked.
"Because I told him that's what we needed," Mordrim said. "We're not really going to do it. It just gives us a chance to get him alone so we can ask him some real questions."
"Oh." Alto sat back in his chair. He smiled a moment later. The dwarf's plan was working. "So what do we do now?"
"Now we head to the River District to meet them," Mordrim said.
"That's a long walk from here," Alto said.
"Now imagine what it's like if you've got short legs!" Garrick teased.
Mordrim shook his head. "I told them we'd be leaving the northman behind."
"You did what?" Garrick balked.
The dwarf chuckled and rose up. "Let's go, boys and lady. We've a boat to catch that we don't need." The others rose and followed the dwarf, with Garrick staring after them and muttering as he brought up the rear.
The trip south through the city was faster thanks to the reduced traffic of the waning day and the few guard patrols in the city's eastern streets. Mordrim hesitated when they entered the River District and then spotted some of the landmarks he'd been told to look for. He led them through the streets until they came to a shipping company. The door into the offi
ce was shut but Mordrim led them around the back of the building.
Two doors awaited them, one large enough for a wagon to fit through and a second sized for a man. Mordrim rapped on the smaller door, waited a count of three, and then knocked again. After several seconds passed, the door opened and the same man glanced outside. The street had a few stragglers on it but nobody paid them any attention. He motioned them in.
Once they'd all entered, the man shut the door behind them. He turned to them and focused on Mordrim. "Can't figure out why a dwarf would want to smuggle a group of humans up the Khalalid. Been trying to figure that out since I left earlier."
"Does it matter?" Alto asked. "As long as we pay, our business is our own."
The gray-eyed man looked at Alto and smirked. "I suppose it is, at that. What are you willing to pay?"
"Name your price. I'll let you know if it's too much," Alto said. He turned and glanced around, taking in the details of the warehouse as his eyes adjusted. He still couldn't see in the darker shadows but at least a lantern was sitting on a table nearby. The room had no windows to the outside, just the two doors he knew of and a third on a far wall. Two wagons, one covered and one open, rested in the warehouse, as well as several wooden crates and chests.
The man shrugged. "Let's see. There's six of you—five thousand gold."
Alto's eyes widened. He had no intention of going on a boat ride, let alone paying that much for one. He chuckled as he shook his head. His laugh came to a stop as he stared at the man. "I have a better deal for you."
The smuggler raised an eyebrow. "Let's hear it."
Alto let his hand fall to his sword. "You tell me what I need to know and I'll leave you alive. You'll be bound and gagged until someone finds you, but alive."
The smuggler's eyes widened for a moment, and then his lips curled into a smile. "I was right," he said. "I knew nobody would want to be smuggled upstream."
Alto frowned, at a loss for the man's odd reaction. "You're going to cooperate?" he asked.
"No, we're going to kill you. I just needed to know. Call it tying up loose ends." No sooner had he spoken than the shadows moved and men wearing dark clothing emerged.
Order Of The Dragon (Omnibus 1-4) Page 33