by P. T. Hylton
Lily let out a tiny gasp.
The light was gone from Zane’s eyes, but he wasn’t unconscious. He blinked slowly and deliberately as he rose to a sitting position. He moved with an uncharacteristic sluggishness. Zane only ever moved with purpose. Now he was swaying in almost constant unfocused motion.
The woman was right. She could have done anything to Zane. She’d somehow turned off his mind.
But she’d forgotten one thing. A thing most people seemed to forget when they were in Zane’s presence. She’d forgotten Lily.
Lily set her mind. She meant no harm to Beth Farns. None at all. She concentrated on that fact. She only meant harm to the cord around the woman’s neck.
Lily snaked her knife out and sliced through the cord that held the medallion. She grabbed the medallion as it fell and pressed her knife against the other woman’s throat.
“Undo it,” Lily growled in Beth’s ear. “Whatever you did to him, undo it.”
Beth stood completely still. Lily could tell the woman was afraid, and that fact made her very happy.
“Wait a minute,” Beth said. “He’ll come back to himself in a moment now that you’ve removed the tangle.”
Lily waited. She felt every quick breath that entered and left the taller woman’s body, and she counted them as they waited. One. Two. Three. Four.
Zane gasped and tumbled forward, his hand catching him as he fell. He let out a sound that was almost a snarl, and he leapt to his feet. His sword was in his hand and he lunged at Beth, pressing his own blade against her throat where it joined Lily’s.
“I…don’t…like that,” Zane said. There was an ice in his voice Lily had never heard before.
Beth cleared her throat gently before she spoke. Lily could tell the woman was struggling to keep it together. “Might I remind you that you’re still greatly outnumbered?”
“Please,” Zane said. “You think my apprentice and I can’t handle three guards and an elf?”
The guards were huddled against the wall, frozen with indecision. The elf stood calmly with his hands crossed in front of him, watching with detached interest.
“Don’t forget the old man,” Lily said.
As if on cue, Vander spoke. “Wait. Please. Don’t kill her.”
Zane’s eyes didn’t leave Beth’s. “Why not? You saw what she did. She’s planning to sell that thing. You think it’s a good idea for the nobles to have access to something that can steal men’s minds? And women’s? Do you have any idea what they’ll do?”
“It’s a tangle,” Beth said. “It only works on someone who is attacking the wearer.”
Zane scowled. “Yeah? And how long before someone figures out how to modify it? How long before someone develops the thorn version?”
Beth had no answer for that.
“The question Zane asked before,” Lily said. “About how you found us. It was Wen wasn’t it? Vander’s old apprentice?”
Beth nodded almost imperceptibly.
Vander barked out a laugh. “I never trusted that kid. That’s why I didn’t leave him any of the good stuff.”
“He came to me at Volst Hall, offering information. Wen thought I might like to know a strange woman, a woman of apprenticeship age, was intending to interrogate my father’s old friend. I thought about Zane’s sudden appearance at Volst Hall and the way he approached me. The timing made me wonder if Zane was one of the ferox no one talks about, the ones who kill for money. From there, I figured out his real target.”
“How much did Wen charge?” Lily asked. She was genuinely curious how much information about Zane was worth.
“No coin. He wants to sell our new line of tangles when they become available.”
Vander laughed again. “Maybe he’s not so dumb after all.”
“Enough!” Zane shouted. His eyes burned with fury. “I have a policy, Ms. Farns, a very strict policy. I don’t kill for free. But for you, I’m considering an exception.”
“Don’t,” Vander said again. “It’s not her fault she is who she is. She was raised in isolation with that father of hers. She’s had to pay enough for her parentage. She shouldn’t have to pay with her life.”
Zane considered for a moment, then lifted the blade from the woman’s throat. Lily kept hers where it was.
“I’ll let her live if you answer three questions,” Zane said.
“Ask,” Vander immediately responded.
“I want to know where Irving Farns is, I want to know where you keep your thorns, and I want to know if Rebecca Waters is here in the Oasis.”
That last question surprised Lily. Rebecca Waters. Lily knew that name from somewhere. After a moment, it came to her. The abditus apprenticeship book in the public records hall. According to that book, Zane had been her apprentice.
Vander answered all three questions, then added, “Rebecca Waters doesn’t leave her room much. She’s an odd one. What you could possibly want with that witch is beyond me.”
Zane turned to the elf. “Take me to her.”
The elf didn’t respond.
“Look into my eyes and see that I’m not lying,” Zane said. “I mean her no harm. I just need to speak with her.”
The elf looked into the assassin’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded.
Zane looked at the guards. “No one needs to get hurt, but if you try to stop me or my apprentice, I will break your legs.”
The guards looked away, the fear and shame evident on their faces.
“It doesn’t matter, you know,” Beth said.
“What doesn’t?” Zane asked.
“You think you have any chance of killing my father? You’ll die if you go there. You think losing your mind for a few moments is bad? Wait until you step into his darkness. You attack him and he’ll go to work on you in ways you never imagined.”
“Lovely,” Zane said. He turned to Lily. “Meet me outside the wall.”
She took her knife away from Beth’s throat. “Meet you?”
“I have something to take care of.”
She briefly considered arguing but decided it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t like being questioned, and he would like it even less in front of all these people. He clearly had something he wanted to discuss with his old magical mentor, and he didn’t want her there for it.
The guards allowed them to leave without incident. Lily made her way to the wall and climbed, carefully avoiding the thorns and tangles embedded in the wall. She made it to the top and took one last look over the complex before descending. All these people with all their intrigues. Each of them had spent a lifetime learning secrets and keeping them, and now that hard-won knowledge would die with them in this isolated Oasis, a place few even knew existed.
It made Lily angry for reasons she didn’t understand. These sad little lives that were worn with such importance. How many of these people had given up the possibility of families and friendships for their silly magical secrets? And Zane was there among them, having a secret conversation with his secret mentor. She shook her head and descended the wall.
She was sitting on her horse when Zane arrived, quiet as a shadow. Pluck noticed him before Lily did, and the horse gave an impatient snort.
Zane climbed onto the tall horse and nodded to Lily. “Let’s go.”
“Who was that woman? Rebecca Waters?”
Zane didn’t answer.
“Why didn’t you tell me you studied magic?”
He turned his horse down the trail and Pluck started trotting.
Lily moved her own horse next to his. “Why’d you switch from magical studies?”
Again, no answer.
“What did you need to talk to her about?”
Zane pulled on the reins, bringing Pluck to an abrupt stop. Lily did the same with her horse.
He looked her in the eye. “You don’t get to know everything about me.”
Lily shook her head. “You’re just like the rest of them. You hoard secrets. Why don’t you trust me?”
“Beca
use someday you’re going to try to kill me,” Zane said.
The words hit her like a slap to the face. “I won’t. I’d never.”
“You will,” he said. “You’re too smart not to try. Killing me would ensure your future. You’ll take your shot when you’re ready.”
Her face felt hot with anger. “That’s what you think of me?”
Zane didn’t answer.
“Is that what happened to all your other apprentices? The ones you never talk about? They took their shot at you and failed?”
He sighed. “Not all of them.” He sounded weary. “Enough questions. I’m tired and there is still much work to do. I need to get to Irving Farns before his daughter can warn him.”
“You mean we,” Lily said. “We need to get to him.”
“No. Me. You’re not ready for this.”
“Come on!” Lily couldn’t help it. She was yelling now. “You’re kidding, right? Didn’t you notice I saved your ass back there?”
“You did, and I thank you. But Beth Farns wasn’t wrong. It’s highly possible I won’t be able to kill her father. And my odds will be that much worse if I’m worrying about your safety.”
He worried about her? “If that’s true, why try it at all?”
Zane turned, and through the darkness she saw him smile. “Because I’ve finally decided. I’m going to take the job.”
He clucked his tongue and Pluck galloped down the trail.
CHAPTER TEN
Zane crouched in the woods outside the cottage for three hours, watching and waiting. During that time no one arrived and no one left. There was no perceptible movement inside. The grounds were well kept, but there were no walls and no guards. Zane saw no tangles outside the house. It didn’t look like a place where the world’s most sought after tanglesman—a man undoubtably richer than most nobles—would hide himself and his daughter for twenty years.
Perhaps, Zane thought, that was the point.
On the other hand, it was also possible Vander had lied to him about Farns’s location.
He found himself growing impatient as he waited. The visit to Vander’s workshop after the Oasis had cost him valuable time. He hoped it had been worth it.
After another half hour of observation, Zane crept to the darkest side of the cabin and peeked through the window. When he was confident the room was empty, he eased the window open and slipped inside.
He knew immediately something was wrong. The place was clean, perhaps too clean, but it didn’t feel lived in. It reminded Zane of an oversized dollhouse. It felt like it was all for show. There was no dust. The place didn’t even seem stuffy. It’d been aired out recently.
He crept from room to room until he was sure the house was empty, and then he began to investigate further. Plenty of dishes, every one of them clean. The cabinets were perfectly organized. There were men’s clothes in one of the bedrooms and women’s clothes in the other—Irving and Beth’s respective rooms?—all neatly put away.
Zane scratched his head. He’d have to wait. Someone would come here eventually. If not Irving Farns or his daughter, a servant would come to clean. No telling how long the wait would be. It was possible they only came monthly and he’d just happened to arrive a day or two after their most recent cleaning.
And while he was waiting, a messenger might be racing toward Irving Farns’s real location to warn him about Zane. Irving could be making preparations against him. Or maybe the man would use the opportunity to go after Lily, to send a message by taking out Zane’s apprentice.
Zane was about to settle in when he noticed something odd. The floorboards in one area of the kitchen floor were cut ever-so-slightly different than the rest. He squinted at it for a long moment. It was nicely done, expertly done even, but now that he’d seen it, it was obvious. A trap door.
Zane drew his sword. The medallion, the one Lily had cut from Beth Farns’s neck, hung around Zane’s neck now, tucked under his cloak, and he felt the weight of it sway as he moved. From what Zane had seen at Volst Hall and what he’d seen in Vander’s apartment at the Oasis, the medallion seemed to work automatically. If someone attacked you, they lost their mental functions for a period of time. That would fit with what Zane knew of tangles; they generally weren’t made for experts. The more foolproof they were, the better they sold. And by all reports, Farns’s tangles always sold well.
With any luck, Farns would attack Zane and fall into a stupor. Then Zane could finish things with his sword. Somehow, he didn’t think it would be that easy. Farns was too smart to be taken out by the one new tangle the public knew existed.
Zane took a deep breath and opened the trap door.
Below him, he saw nothing but blackness.
Zane grabbed a lamp off the table and lit it. He held it near the door and saw stone steps leading down. He moved the lamp forward, but as soon as it passed the threshold of the trap door, the light went out.
Zane pulled the lamp out of the darkness and lit it again. He tried a second time. Again, as soon as the lamp passed the threshold, the light went out.
Nice trick, Zane thought. But he wasn’t a stranger to working in darkness. He often trained blindfolded. Besides, not having to carry a lamp left his hand free, which could be useful in a fight.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness.
The air felt a few degrees colder as soon as he passed the threshold and began his descent. He moved slowly, feeling his way forward with his feet, carefully inspecting each step before putting his weight on it. For all he knew, this could be a trap. He could take a step and fall into a pit of spikes.
The darkness was complete, darker than anything Zane had ever experienced. He turned around and noticed he could no longer see the light above the trapdoor.
He reached the bottom of the steps and stepped into the unseen room. He brushed his hand across the wall to his right. He would follow the wall and see where it took him.
“You’re here to kill me.”
The voice startled Zane. It was deep and resonant, and it echoed against the stone walls, making it difficult to tell where it was coming from. Difficult, but not impossible. Zane thought he had a good read on the direction, and he started walking toward the voice, softening his footfalls so they were nearly silent.
The voice came again. “You’re not some hapless traveller who wandered in here by accident. Not with that sword. And you’re not an abditus who discovered my location to duel me or you wouldn’t lead with a blade. I’d say you could be a thief, but you carry no bag to haul whatever you plan to steal. So, an assassin then.”
Zane paused. The voice seemed to be coming from a different direction now. He turned and headed toward the voice.
“You probably noticed I’m describing you using visual references,” the voice continued. “I mentioned that you’re holding a sword and that you’re not carrying a bag. I’m able to see this because it’s not actually dark down here. I lit a lamp while you were coming down the stairs. Right after I took away your sight.”
That was meant to shock Zane. To cause him to panic. He fought hard not to let it. He suddenly realized he’d lost track of the wall. The darkness around him was disorienting. He didn’t know if he could find his way back to the stairs if he wanted to. There was no alternative now; killing Farns was his only way out of here.
“I used a tangle to blind you. The tangle wouldn’t have activated unless you meant me harm. More proof you’re here to kill me.”
The voice was coming from another direction now. Zane stopped. He was done chasing this voice around the room while the tanglesman watched in amusement. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He still had the medallion. When Farns made an aggressive move against him, it would activate.
Zane suddenly realized the implication of what Farns had said. The tangle had taken away his vision because he had intentions against Farns. Not because he’d acted in an aggressive manner, but because he’d intended to. A tangle that could do that didn�
�t exist. Not outside of this cottage, anyway.
Zane opened his mouth, hoping that the words would convey more confidence than he felt. He put all the bravado he could muster into his voice. “Taking away my sight is an interesting approach. It won’t help you, though.”
Irving chuckled. “It’s a bit of a dilemma. I can’t let you wander around my basement until you die of thirst. That’s altogether too inconvenient. But I also can’t attack you. The medallion under your shirt will stop any thorns I might use. And if I attack outright, the medallion will turn off my mind.”
Zane bit his tongue to keep from cursing. Another advantage lost.
“I do have other tangles,” Farns said. “I could keep turning off your senses one by one. I’d rather chat for a moment, though. It has been a long time.”
“Okay,” Zane said. He held his sword at the ready, trying to use his other senses to detect the possibility of movement around him. “Let’s chat.”
“I guess I’ll ask about the elf in the room. Who hired you to kill me?”
“Mr. Farns, if you knew anything about assassins, you’d know that is the one question we’ll never answer. Not unless our client asks us to tell the target.”
“We’ll see,” Farns said. “”Another question, then. Something much more important.” His voice took on a colder tone. “Did you hurt Beth?”
“No. My apprentice got the drop on her while we were paying a visit to an old friend at the Oasis.”
“The Oasis. Vander, then. He hired you?”
Zane tried to concentrate, to feel out his opponent, but it was difficult. His sight was gone—a fact he was trying very hard not to panic about—and Farns’s voice seemed to be coming from a number of directions at once.
“This isn’t a guessing game,” Zane said. He held the thorn he’d taken from Vander’s workshop close to his side, tucked away in his hand. “Answer me this. Why are you doing it? Why sell the tangles after all these years?”
Farns waited a moment before speaking. “My occupation, my success, had a high price. You showing up here is evidence of that. And the one who’s paid that price the most is my daughter. She spent nearly twenty years locked away in this cottage. I thought maybe I could give her a good start in the world if I let her sell some of my creations. She has a better head for economics than I ever did. I just turned on another tangle, by the way. If you still harbor intentions of attacking me, you just lost your sense of smell. Did you notice?”