Revenant Winds (The Tainted Cabal Book 1)

by Mitchell Hogan

  Gerret shook his head. “No, it ain’t. The alchemist gets her apprentice to prepare most concoctions, including yours. She’s a lovely young girl and quite taken with a certain dashing thief.”

  Kurio wouldn’t call him dashing, but then again, she wasn’t a brainless girl. “She’s making things up to impress you.” A feeble lie, but she had to try.

  “‘For her eye,’ she said. ‘The tincture’s got to be made just right, or the color won’t match. As red as a rose,’ she said. ‘Red mixed with green makes brown, you see.’ You use it to color your eye—the green one—to match your brown one.”

  As Gerret spoke, Kurio’s stomach twisted and she felt ill. She’d been so careful, and now some stupid besotted girl had ruined everything.

  “It’s red for blood. I told you, it’s for womanly problems.”

  But Kurio knew her words were weak. Gerret wouldn’t swallow them. She lowered her crossbow, trying to set him more at ease until she could think of a way out of the situation. She switched it to her other hand and wiped her sweaty palm on her pants.

  “You think you’re so smart,” he spat. “You think you’re better than the rest of us. Always wearing expensive clothes, and keeping your blond hair brushed and shiny, and bathing every day, while we’re born in the slums and likely to die in the slums. Well, I know your secret. And you know who’s been looking for their runaway daughter for years—a girl with one green eye and one brown one and freckles on her cheeks like you have? You’re playing at being a thief, like a mummer in a show. There’s no risk for you. If things go bad, your family will bail you out, and you’ll be fine.”

  “Who have you told?”

  “No one … yet. And as long as you do as I say, I’ll keep your secret. You work for me from now on. Put the crossbow down. You won’t shoot me. You’re too softhearted.”

  Kurio shook her head. “You’re so very, very wrong, Gerret. You think I’m a stranger to violence? I’m not. I grew up with it. It’s an old friend. I don’t enjoy it, but I got comfortable around it after a while.”

  “What are you—”

  Kurio raised the crossbow and thumbed the lever. Her barbed bolt thudded into Gerret’s chest with a crunch. He stumbled backward.

  “Wha—” His hands clutched at the bolt as crimson spread across his shirt. He groaned and fell to his knees.

  Kurio loosed the second bolt, which struck home close to the first.

  Gerret’s eyes rolled into his head, and he pitched forward, hitting the floor with a thump.

  What he’d been too stupid to realize was she wasn’t playing. And she certainly wasn’t softhearted.

  Kurio cranked the crossbow and loaded two fresh bolts. Lightly sprung clips held them in place so they didn’t fall out. It paid to be prepared, and she never liked to leave the weapon uncocked, even though it meant replacing the strings frequently, as the strain stretched them.

  She prodded Gerret with her boot to make sure he was dead. Falling onto his face would have driven her bolts in further, but she had to make sure. He didn’t move. Good.

  Blood seeped from under his body, and she hopped back before any got on her custom-made boots. Her vision blurred, and she wiped angrily at her eyes.

  Bloody fool. Why couldn’t you leave me alone?

  Breathing deeply, she kneeled in front of the chest, hoping the gods would favor her. She opened the lid and took in the contents. A few smaller lockboxes, a lumpy velvet pouch—probably gemstones—and a shiny metal cube covered with indecipherable script. She sighed with relief. She’d been hired to steal the cube, though she had no idea why it was so valuable. In her business you didn’t ask those sorts of questions.

  She stuffed the velvet pouch into her backpack, her nimble fingers confirming it did indeed contain gemstones. She debated opening the lockboxes to see what was inside, but Gerret’s rapidly cooling corpse beside her was slightly unnerving.

  She reminded herself that whoever had hired Gerret would have disposed of him once he’d delivered the goods. So he would have been killed tonight anyway.

  Keep telling yourself that.

  She grabbed the metal cube and secured it in her backpack, along with her cracking tools. The cube rested on a round wooden holder, but she wouldn’t need that. Then she noticed a folded piece of paper resting on the holder. She hesitated. Her job was for the artifact only, but she’d already taken the gemstones as well. She shrugged and picked up the paper. It was covered with lines of an ancient script she recognized from her studies: Skanuric.

  Kurio stuffed the paper into her pants pocket and turned her attention to getting out of there. If someone was working behind Willas’s back, her planned escape route was most likely compromised.

  Gerret had thought he was killing two birds with one stone: taking a job out from under Kurio, and blackmailing her into working for him. But he’d proven many times that he lacked intelligence or common sense. She thought it likely that whoever had sold her out would have men waiting to kill her if she left the same way she’d entered. But like any good thief, she had a backup plan.

  Gerret had probably had the same idea, so his gear … Ah, there was his backpack, hidden behind the curtain he’d appeared from. She dug out a coil of thin, blackened rope. No point wasting hers if there was a spare. After all, Gerret wouldn’t be needing it.

  She tied one end of the rope to the leg of a sturdy side table, which she pushed up against the wall below the window. Crouching atop the table, she tugged out the window’s locking pin and opened it. A cold blast of air ruffled her hair and clothes.

  She pulled on calfskin gloves, tossed the rope out, then turned to give Gerret’s corpse one final look. Then she pulled the rope tight against her back and leaped into the darkness.

  ~ ~ ~

  Kurio wound her way along dank alleyways until she was a few dozen streets from the Vandred Estate. Her face felt hot, and she had to stop herself from grinning. She’d done it! Another successful job—albeit with complications. But she’d come out on top, and that was what mattered.

  Now all she had to do was convince the Night Shadows that she hadn’t killed Gerret. Except, with two bolts in his chest and the loot stolen, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out it had been her. Punishment for killing one of your own ranged from a whipping to being drowned in the murky waters of the Brown Canals, commonly referred to as “the stew”. The city governors had passed strict laws to keep the river clean, but the manmade canals that joined it were another matter.

  She doubted she’d be able to convince the Night Shadows she’d acted in self-defense; and even if she did, she’d still be looking at a flogging or death. It was too risky. Kurio cursed as many gods as she could remember, which was quite a few. When she’d finished, she felt a little better, but not much.

  She kept moving, surreptitiously glancing behind her, peering in the reflections of windows and sprinting around the occasional corner to make sure she wasn’t followed. A short time later, she entered her apartment and clicked each of the four locks shut. She paused, then barred the door for good measure. Someone wanted the loot she’d stolen tonight and her dead. This was no time to be lazy. Lazy got you killed.

  She realized she was breathing heavily, and not from the five flights of stairs she’d just climbed. She rolled her shoulders and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. There was too much left to do to start panicking. She needed to deliver the cube to collect her payment, then give a message to the alchemist’s apprentice that wouldn’t be forgotten. After that, she needed to disappear. The Night Shadows knew where she lived, and they’d come for her.

  Bloody Gerret! He should have left well enough alone.

  Kurio looked around her sparsely furnished room. It was totally enclosed with no window. There was a wide cot with an extremely comfortable mattress, a writing desk she hardly ever used, and a closet filled with everyday clothes. In one corner stood a brazier. She wouldn’t miss anything, and that was the point. She could easily leave and not
look back. Her thieving gear and valuables were in her other apartment, which she was sure no one else knew existed.

  She sighed. She would miss that mattress. It had cost a great deal and had taken two big men to lug it up the stairs. Oh well.

  Using the iron poker, she stirred the embers in the brazier to life and added more charcoal. Once it was hot enough, she ripped off her blond wig and threw it on. The shiny hair burst into flames, and she coughed at the smoke that enveloped the room. She ducked down low and coughed again. Hells, that was stupid.

  She opened the closet and pushed a back panel open, ducked through it, and emerged into a constricted room. Replacing the panel so the entrance was once again hidden, she moved to the narrow window and ran a hand through her short sweaty hair. She grinned at the thought of the Night Shadows busting down her door and finding the room empty, with no way out, not even a window. She’d give a few gold royals to see their faces.

  She’d built the false wall on her own. Easy as pie. Not a bad job too, if she did say so herself.

  The window swung open soundlessly on oiled hinges, and Kurio dangled from the ledge by her fingertips, then dropped six feet to the tiled roof below. Landing lightly, she dashed across the tiles and was soon lost in the shadows.

  ~ ~ ~

  The alchemist’s apprentice’s room looked more like it belonged to a little girl than someone learning a trade. Pink curtains embroidered with red flowers moved slightly in the breeze from the open window. A colorful patchwork quilt kept the girl warm, and there was a stuffed rag doll at the end of her bed.

  The girl slept peacefully, her lovestruck head no doubt filled with thoughts of her dashing, handsome thief. Kurio sniffed disapprovingly. The apprentice was young. Too young to be taking up with the likes of Gerret, the disgusting animal. Well, she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Maybe she’d grow wiser from her experience.

  She slipped through the window and crossed the floor to the bed. Kneeling beside the apprentice, she tugged her hood tighter to make sure her dark hair was concealed. Then she blew lightly in the girl’s face.

  The apprentice stirred and opened bleary eyes. “Gerret?” she whispered.

  Kurio clamped a hand over the girl’s mouth. Her eyes opened wide, and she uttered a muffled scream.

  “Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it permanently,” growled Kurio.

  The girl looked wildly around. Ragged sobs escaped her lips.

  Kurio pushed her hand down harder, forcing the girl’s head into the pillow. “Do you understand?”

  A frightened nod.

  “Good. Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. I’m here to deliver a warning on behalf of the Night Shadows.”

  She’d be whipped or worse for using their name, but that was just one more infraction to add to her list. They’d probably kill her if they found her, but she aimed to disappear as best she could.

  She leaned close to the girl and waved a shiny knife in front of her terrified eyes. “You’ve been telling secrets. Your loose lips make you untrustworthy.”

  Loose lips in more ways than one, stupid girl.

  “You’ve put your life and your mistress’s business in peril. The Night Shadows are not pleased. Tonight, we will spare you.”

  Relieved sobbing came from underneath Kurio’s hand, now warm and wet from the girl’s tears and saliva.

  “But if we hear you’ve been spilling secrets again, we’ll be back. And you won’t like it. Nod if you understand.”

  The girl nodded vigorously.

  “Good.” Kurio removed her hand and wiped it on the quilt. She backed away to the window, then paused, one leg over the sill. “You’ll never see Gerret again. The Night Shadows have determined this will be his punishment.”

  She left the girl lying there, tears streaming down her face. At least this way, she wouldn’t know Gerret was dead.

  ~ ~ ~

  Kurio’s benefactor stood staring into a dwindling fire that sputtered feebly beneath a massive mantel of carved sandstone. The huge thing looked out of place in such a small room, but rich people like Willas could do whatever they wanted, she supposed. Although she didn’t believe for a moment the gaunt man’s name really was Willas.

  Dawn’s pale light peeked through gaps in the thick curtains. Around the room were signs of a collector with expensive tastes. Wooden display boxes of different sizes were stacked against two of the walls, completely covering them. Almost all contained an object of some sort. A few Kurio recognized from her first visit: mechanical contrivances mapping the movement of the stars, bleached skulls of creatures most people thought only inhabited tales, a rough hunk of metal, vials and jars filled with liquids and powders. Others she thought were talismans for sorcery, along with an egg the size of her head that might be from a flightless bird in the far south. Her fingers itched to open some of the locked boxes, but she kept her hands to herself.

  Willas turned as she stepped into the room. “Ah, Kurio, I half expected never to see you again.”

  He laughed briefly before convulsing into a coughing fit. She stood silently until it ended, and he drew out a kerchief and wiped his lips. It came away with a dark stain.

  Kurio looked aside and only then noticed another man sitting in an armchair in the shadows. At least, judging from his size, it was a man. She’d never seen someone so big. It was a wonder she’d missed him when she’d walked in.

  He sat upright, as if afraid to slouch. Like her, he was hooded and cloaked, so she couldn’t see his features. But there was something about him … a presence that made her skin tingle. He was dangerous.

  She resisted the urge to point her small crossbow at him, which hung from her belt under her cloak. Nevertheless, she kept one hand on it just in case. Someone had told Gerret where to find her, likely someone close to Willas. If Willas wanted her dead, he would have attempted it in their first meeting, but the sooner she was done here and had her fee, the better.

  Willas stumbled to a desk, where an alembic bubbled away on an open flame. Crimson droplets slid down the discharge tube to gather in a flask. He poured a measure of the thick liquid into a glass, where it sparkled with phosphorescence, and drained it in one gulp. He stood motionless for a moment, then shuddered before leaning on the table to steady himself.

  Was it a bloody pox he had, or the result of years of smoking strong herbs? Either way, it didn’t look good, Kurio thought.

  “So,” Willas said, clearing his throat and turning to regard her, “I’ve been wondering—are you also curious by nature? Curious for curios? Is that why—”

  “No, I’m not curious,” she replied flatly. “Are we going to do business?”

  She’d heard the same jokes a hundred times over the last few years. Mostly from nervous benefactors and stupid thieves.

  A chuckle came from the man in the armchair. He stood quickly for all his size. His head almost brushed the ceiling, and Kurio heard the telltale clink of mail underneath his expensive clothes. He took a step forward into the light, and Kurio gave him a once-over. His pants and coat were impeccably tailored and clung close to his lean form. Splashes of crimson across his silk vest added a colorful accent. A sheathed sword hung from his belt, which was why he had sat like a lamp pole.

  One of the rings on his hand caught her eye. Three were plain silver bands, while this one was gold, with a square face divided into four smaller squares. Each segment contained a Skanuric rune. Out of habit, Kurio committed them to memory.

  Her gaze traveled up to his face, and her breath caught in her throat. Chiseled cheeks set in sun-touched skin. Full lips that ended in a cute smirk. His eyes were a startling blue, somehow shy and daring at the same time. He wasn’t just handsome, he was exquisite.

  When she remembered to breathe, Kurio caught a hint of his scent and felt herself stir. It conjured visions of sweaty midnight sex.

  She knew straight away there had to be something wrong with him. Wasn’t there always a flaw, especially with beauty? But part of her w
as drawn to him, intrigued.

  “This one’s impatient,” he said, amused. His voice sounded like honey: sweet and thick.

  “The best business is done quickly,” Kurio retorted, flustered. “The less I know about you, the better.”

  “How forthright of you. It must serve you well in your chosen career. But wise words nonetheless. Well, Willas, conclude your business with Kurio here. I’m sure she wants to be gone as soon as possible. Back to”—he raised his eyebrows—“whatever nocturnal activities she desires.”

  Kurio’s face warmed as she flushed.

  Willas chuckled nervously. “Of course, your … ahem. Were you successful, Kurio? Do you have it?”

  There was eagerness in his voice. He looked almost like a dog begging for a bone.

  Kurio took out the cube, which she’d wrapped in a cloth, and held it out. “Here. Now, my payment?”

  Willas stepped forward excitedly and took the artifact from her hand. Kurio’s fingers tightened on her crossbow, but his eyes never left the package. He took it over to a lamp and unwrapped it. Metal glinted in the light as he turned it round and round, drinking in the sight.

  “Yes …” he said.

  “You can examine your trifle later,” the handsome man said. “Give Kurio her payment, and she can leave. I’m sure she wants to be gone as soon as possible, no?”

  Kurio nodded. She didn’t know why this man was here, but his attempt to hold himself at a distance from her and Willas’s transaction didn’t fool her. He had some part in it, though what it might be eluded her.

  He stepped closer, maintaining eye contact, as if examining her. She couldn’t look away. Her breaths grew shallow and hurried.

  “My name is Gannon Chikaire,” he said softly, leaning forward. “An old name, but my parents were ever fond of making things awkward for me. These days it makes me stand out. Tell me, Kurio, are you fond of standing out?”

  Despite her caution, Kurio found a smile playing across her lips. “Sometimes. Though often I find myself standing out more than is healthy.”

  Gannon chuckled, and his breath caressed her neck, stirring tendrils of her hair. It felt like steam from a hot bath.