I’d already seen something of them with Heln. He had been difficult for me to even see, and that was with my Sight. There had been the way that he moved as well, something that was almost otherworldly. Carth had a certain respect for Heln. If not for him, then for the Hjan and the fact that Heln was among them.
Then there was the issue of the accords. I would keep that information from Orly. I didn’t know if there was anything for me to learn about the accords. Whatever they were gave an uneasy truce to Carth and the Hjan.
“They are shadows, Galen.” He raised his hands to his lips, the tips of his fingers pressed together and his brow furrowed. One of his men ran into the room and stopped in front of him. I noted that it was a different man than who had left. Sweat stained his shirt and his eyes were wide, but he leaned down to whisper in Orly’s ear much like the last man had. A moment passed, one where I wished for enhanced hearing rather than Sight, before the man left.
Orly’s face remained a neutral mask. “And I think,” he continued, lowering his hands and reaching for the dice, “that you will be the light, Galen.”
“What does that mean?” I glanced in the direction where the man had disappeared, wondering what he might have learned in the time that we were at the table. How well connected was Orly?
I didn’t need to ask to know the answer. Orly managed to stay far ahead of me, usually several steps in front. It was one of the reasons that I never managed to truly free myself from him. But Orly had uses as well. He often had the most intriguing jobs, and there was a certain morality to what he asked of me. Or there had been before he’d started placing a bounty on women in order to draw Carth out.
“It means that I have a job for you.”
“I think you misunderstand,” I told Orly. “I don’t intend to take this job.”
“No? When your friend might be in danger?”
Had he learned something of Talia in the time that I’d been sitting here?
I looked toward the back of the tavern, studying the man’s face. I might get something from him, but Orly’s men were loyal for a reason. He paid well and the price for betraying him was steep.
“What do you know of what happened to her?”
Orly lifted his pipe and took another puff. “Unfortunately, not enough to convince you to take this job,” he answered, “but perhaps enough to set you toward it on your own.”
Was he being honest with me, or was this some sort of trick? With Orly, I had to constantly question.
“We hadn’t finished speaking about the Hjan,” Orly said, as if suddenly realizing it. “When I said they were shadows, I meant that as a compliment. They are shadows much like you are shadows. Trained in Venass, what they study is a different kind of power, one of life and death and of darkness.”
“Assassins?” I asked.
Orly tipped his head in a nod. “Of a sort, but expensive.” He smiled. “There are times when I bemoan the prices I must pay you, but trust me when I tell you that is nothing compared to what the Hjan charge.”
Part of the reason I’d come to Eban was the opportunity. I could charge my fees because I knew I was worth it. As did Orly. There were none in the city who could match my skills and patience when it came down to it, but Isander had warned me that there were others out in the world with as much ability as I possessed. The other part of the reason I’d come to Eban was a little less clear to me, but I would stay here until I understood.
And now it seemed I had competition for my services.
“There aren’t many who can afford my services,” I told Orly.
He smiled. “Indeed. You’re lucky I have remained interested in what you offer me.”
I shrugged. “I prefer to think that you value the relationship.”
“I would value it more if you completed even half of your assignments.”
“As would I if you would find a way to be honest with your intentions.” We stared at each other a moment. This was a discussion we had many times, and one that delayed the questions I needed to be asking. “If you think the Hjan charge too much, then who can afford to pay?” I asked.
Orly lifted the dice off the table and shook them. He sent them rolling. They came up a one and a two. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Regardless of the Hjan, there is something that you can do since you won’t bring Carth of C’than to me.”
I frowned, not liking where this was going.
“There is an item that she possesses. A ledger. You will know it when you see it. And I would like you to acquire it.”
It couldn’t be a coincidence that the list he wanted was the same that Carth had retrieved the night I went after Natash. Did Orly know that I had learned about it?
I decided that was possible.
More than ever, I wanted to know what was in it.
“You seem to mistake me for a common thief, Orly.”
“I mistake nothing, Galen. And it seems that there’s nothing common about you, is there?”
I tapped my hand on my leg. Orly wanted to pit me against Carth, but how would she react if I informed her?
He seemed to know what I was thinking. And smiled. The bastard smiled.
“You don’t want to do that,” he warned.
“Do what?”
He shrugged slightly. “You’re not the only one who can read people, Galen.” He leaned toward me, blowing out smoke I hadn’t noticed him inhaling. “I think this is a task that you will complete, unlike so many of the others.”
I resisted the urge to smile. “And why is that?”
“Because if you don’t, you won’t learn what happened to your friend.”
The way he stared at me left me questioning whether he really knew anything or if he merely bluffed. He scooped the dice and slid them across the table. They came up Watcher’s Eyes. Again.
“That wasn’t you in the tavern,” I said. Had it been Orly, he would have known… Unless part of it had been Orly and the rest someone else. “What happened to her?”
“As I said. You will bring the ledger to me. And then we will talk.”
I still didn’t know what he meant, but I didn’t like what that implied. “And if I don’t?”
Orly took the dice and rolled them again. “I think we both know you don’t want to do that.”
Another threat from Orly, only this time it was one that I had no choice but to believe.
I didn’t really think that he’d been the one to abduct Talia, but I wouldn’t put it past Orly to think to use Talia to get to me.
And the worst part of it was that it would work. After everything we had been through together, it still worked.
25
The night was different than Landing Festival. The somber feel to the air combined with the growing fog matched my mood. Out on the streets, I couldn’t see anything clearly enough to move safely. Perhaps that was best. If I could, I might make the mistake of thinking that I could go after Orly.
Could he really be the reason that Talia had been taken?
I spent most of the morning considering what I knew. The men who had come after her had not intended to hurt her, only capture her. There was a part of me that thought they had come because of me, but that had been the mistake I made when she had been hurt the first time. That was the reason I had gone after Natash.
Before making another rash decision, I needed to know for certain.
And I realized there was only one person I could ask.
The dampness in the air was the reason that I’d taken to the street rather than the rooftop, but there was another advantage for me tonight. I couldn’t see far enough ahead of me to see what I needed. And I might not be a Listener, but that didn’t mean my hearing was poor.
On an evening like tonight, with the silence of the city all around me, my hearing seemed augmented more than normal, almost as if the muffled sounds of the city faded away, leaving me with only the sounds I cared about.
Such as the lonesome lute playing in the distance.
It ha
dn’t taken much to learn where to find the lutist. He lived near enough the Brite Pot that I didn’t have to travel far to find him, and I recognized the steady tune as he practiced inside. From what I had heard, he’d be playing later tonight in a different tavern, taking coin as if nothing had happened only nights before. For some reason, that more than anything bothered me.
I checked my pouch but didn’t expect to need anything. Still, rather than going in unprepared, I clutched a pair of darts in hand, both coxberry. I doubted that the lutist would manage to surprise me, and I had already inspected his lute and found it nothing more exotic than a simple instrument.
Pausing to listen, and hearing nothing more than the steady sounds of his playing, I pushed the door open and made my way inside the small room. A crackling hearth glowed and danced with light, sending shifting shadows sliding across the room.
At least here, back inside and out of the fog, my Sight didn’t fail.
Sliding slowly forward, I found the lutist sitting on the edge of his stool, staring at the hearth.
I cleared my throat and the music trailed off.
He turned slowly to face me. His face showed no expression. That should have been my first warning.
“Tell me how much you were paid to betray Talia,” I said.
The man shook his head. “You have it wrong.”
“I don’t think I do,” I said, suddenly piecing part of it together. Orly must have been responsible for Talia’s abduction, but how? “Orly and I have an interesting relationship. How much was it?”
He blinked and swallowed. “Not enough. Not nearly enough.”
“What really happened in the tavern?”
“You know what happened in the tavern,” he said.
“I know what you said happened. And I know that you were limited on what you could say. Other than that… Well, let’s say I’m not sure what to believe.”
I held the darts in front of me and, as expected, his eyes were drawn to them.
“Tell me,” I went on, “what happened to Talia.”
A shadow peeled away from the back wall. I barely had time to react.
Had I not seen it before, the strange swirl of color that could be nothing other than Heln, I wouldn’t have been prepared. Even as it was, I barely had a chance to react.
He moved quickly, coming toward me with a pair of knives extended. They were a dark gray, almost the color of lorcith, though no knives were made of lorcith, not any longer. And he moved in a flash, the colors that swirled around him the only clue I had that he was there.
I flipped the first dart toward him and missed.
It wasn’t that the dart missed, more that it floated through him, as if he had been there, and then vanished, something like a ghost.
Damn.
I dived to the side, rolling as I sent the second dart streaking toward him. As I did, I reached in my pouch for a handful, not mindful of which ones I grabbed. Without Carth with me, I doubted very much if it mattered whether I killed him or simply subdued him.
“Impressive,” Heln hissed. “I see why you interest her.”
I backed up a step, glancing to the side to ensure it was clear. I didn’t mind the wall behind me and didn’t fear what might happen if cornered—at least, I usually didn’t—but I didn’t want to be caught with his partner appearing.
As far as I knew, there were two of the Hjan in Eban. Heln, who had remained in the tavern, as if overseeing Talia and the other’s abduction, and whoever had killed the man in the room in the Brite Pot. I hadn’t seen that one again and didn’t want to be surprised.
Heln flashed with a hint of color before it faded.
I followed the trail of color and flicked a dart where it reappeared.
The man was prepared and smacked the dart out of the air.
“After the insult you gave me, I can’t allow you to live,” he said.
“What insult was that?” I flicked another pair of darts, knowing my supply diminished but trying to buy time as I considered what I would do. Heln was more skilled than me, and he had an ability that made him difficult to catch. A dangerous combination, and one that would likely be deadly.
“Where you caught me,” he said.
I doubted that was the reason he was here, but why were they?
Orly called them assassins, but that didn’t necessarily fit. I suspected one of the Hjan, either Heln or the other, had killed Isabelle in the Brite Pot, and was probably the person I had chased across the rooftop. But then, why?
And now he was here, with the lutist.
For him to be here meant that he came for the same reasons that I did.
Which meant…
Damn.
“How much did Orly pay you?”
Heln stepped forward, this time little more than shifting shadows, as if he pulled the darkness around him. “The Hjan don’t speak of terms.”
“No?” I rolled, pulling a knife from my boot as I did. I didn’t like my chances if it came to hand-to-hand fighting, but I wasn’t going to be completely unprepared. One of my darts nearly hit him, this one catching the hem of his dark shirt before passing through.
Heln slipped to the side. “Interesting to find someone with such skill in a place like Eban,” he noted. “It’s almost as if you have Hjan training.”
He managed to repeat the strange shimmering preceded by the flash of colors and then appeared near the lutist. The man cowered near the hearth, but had I not had the training I did, I suspect I would have done the same. If Heln did something to the lutist, any chance of learning what happened to Talia and the others would be gone. Even if I managed to subdue Heln—and I wasn’t liking my chances—I doubted that he would share much with me.
If this lasted much longer, I wouldn’t make it out. And then Talia wouldn’t survive.
I palmed four darts, leaving the tips extended between my fingers. As soon as I saw the shifting color disappear and then reappear, I sent all four darts flying.
Heln had been ready for one dart, and might have been ready for two or three, but these all went at a slightly different angle.
Normally I wouldn’t attempt such a throw. With as much time as I spent preparing the darts, using so many at once like that was wasteful.
But against a man like Heln… I didn’t have much choice.
He started to shimmer, the faint colors swirling around him, but one of the darts hit, piercing his palm as he held his hand out to me.
Terad worked quickly.
I hadn’t wanted to kill Heln. I would rather have obtained information from him, but I had seen how quickly coxberry faded from his system and I didn’t have the advantage of Carth’s strange chains. That meant that I would have to contain him on my own. And I didn’t like my chances.
Heln’s eyes widened slightly, and then he fell.
I kept another set of darts ready. For all I knew, he’d somehow built a tolerance to terad. It was one of the few poisons where I didn’t think that was possible, but then, I would have thought someone like Heln impossible only a few days prior.
He didn’t move again.
Taking a deep breath, I turned to the lutist. He stared at me, eyes wide with fear, an expression he had not worn when I’d spoken to him last. Then he’d been more afraid of Heln. Not that I could blame him for that.
“Tell me what happened to Talia,” I said to him, ignoring Heln’s body.
He did not. His gaze was drawn to the dead man, and he stared at it. “How? I mean… How? I could barely see him move—”
“I could,” I said. “Now. Tell me what happened to Talia.”
I didn’t think the Hjan had been hired to capture Talia. No, Orly wouldn’t spend the kind of money I suspect necessary to hire them simply for her. Which meant they were after the same thing as me. He’d hired them to obtain the ledger.
But why?
Whatever that book held was valuable enough for Orly to hire not only me, but men like the Hjan in spite of the cost. I knew nothing about
Heln’s partner, but if he was anything like Heln, I didn’t doubt his capabilities.
“I didn’t see what happened to them,” he answered. He leaned against the wall and his eyes were still wide as he stared at me. “Please. You have to believe me…”
I grunted. “Seeing as how you sat there after what happened and didn’t say anything, I’m not so certain that I can believe you.” I took a step toward him, making an intentional effort to pull myself to my full height, and fixed him with the hardest stare that I could manage and was satisfied when he looked away.
“I’ll give you one more opportunity,” I said. “Who else did Orly employ?”
“I didn’t catch a name,” he said. “Three men came to the Brite Pot.”
“Only three?” I asked. How had three men managed to overpower Talia, especially after I’d seen her hold five at bay easily?
He nodded.
“Who were they?” I asked.
“I… I don’t know. The one I saw was short, had dark hair, and skin like you don’t often see in Eban. The other two were similar. They carried the same type of sword, and moved quickly.”
Almost immediately I had an image in mind of who it might be. “Swordsmen?” I asked.
The lutist nodded.
Damn.
Going against the Hjan was bad enough. I didn’t know anything about them before this all began. Ignorance oftentimes was beneficial. When you’re afraid, you hesitate. With Heln, I knew that he was dangerous, but I didn’t know exactly what other skills he might possess.
With a Neelish sellsword… that was a different story.
And Orly had three.
They were skilled mercenaries, men who could move as quickly as snakes and were known to have developed a certain resistance to poisons. Deadly swordsmen.
I didn’t like the idea of going against even one. And I had thought Orly only had one under his employ, but if they were involved… well, that meant I had little choice.
“What are you going to do?” the lutist asked.
I reached into my pouch and fingered the darts I had there, counting the five I had remaining. I grabbed a coxberry-tipped dart and rolled it between my fingers. What was I going to do?
The Binder's Game (The Sighted Assassin Book 1) Page 16