Tangle of Thornes

by Lorel Clayton

“The whole place is like this, and there’s no sign of Nanny,” Kali said.

  Conrad searched with dagger drawn, carefully opening closets and looking behind doors. “You should have come to me right away. The burglar may still be here.”

  It wasn’t a common thief. They all knew Viktor had been Duane’s friend. No thief would be suicidal enough to cross The Adder—I meant Duane. Now he had me doing it.

  I hurried to the front door and was happy to see my Ashur where I’d left it. Suitably armed, I grabbed an oil lamp and made my way down to the cellar to check on Jorg. He wasn’t there, probably at work. I should have realized he was gone, as no one would have dared ransack the house with the grall at home.

  Conrad scouted Viktor’s old bedroom, and I went to the guest room where I was staying. Clothes were scattered everywhere, but that was how I liked it, and it was hard to tell if anything was disturbed.

  Nanny’s bedroom was next. It was small and dark, the windows covered with thick drapes smelling of dust and mold. The old woman was a terrible housekeeper, but it was clear the searchers had been in here too. The mattress was torn, feathers piled on the floor. I spotted a door to a small closet on the other side of the room and pulled it open. Clothing toppled around my feet. A really terrible housekeeper.

  I was about to leave when I noticed a piece of jewelry on the floor. It was the Eye of the Devourer, two ellipses forged in silver and set with an onyx. Nanny had worn it as long as I’d been alive and never took it off. I carefully picked it up. The tarnished chain was broken, gray hairs tangled around it. Someone had yanked it from her neck.

  As often as I’d teasingly wished Nanny harm, the thought of her gone sent me into a panic.

  Conrad came in. “I didn’t find anyone. The house is empty.”

  “What about the bookshop?” I put the necklace in the pouch with Kali’s documents and set off. Conrad followed as I checked downstairs, the alley, the rest of the house again....

  Damn, Nanny still had the only key to the coal cellar. If there was no other reason to find her, I thought. Who was I kidding? Nanny was a mother to me, a cold distant mother who doted only on Viktor, but she was a part of my life. I felt shaky inside, almost as bad as the night Viktor died. How could she have vanished? Someone must have seen her taken away.

  I went to the neighboring shops and pounded on the doors. Most were closed, but a few of the owners lived on the upper stories as we did. They grumbled about being awoken in the night, but when they saw a Thorne and Conrad’s Guard uniform they were reluctantly polite. No, no one had seen anything. They never did.

  I hiked to my uncle’s house, winter air burning my lungs. If Ilsa or Ulric had answered, I might have lashed out, but it was Morgan. He hadn’t seen her either, and he put a steadying hand on my shoulder as I swayed. He knew me better than anyone, and he knew Nanny.

  “I’ll tell your uncle,” he said. “We’ll turn the city upside down.”

  “Thank you.”

  I had been through the entire neighborhood, twice, and was weary with defeat. I staggered back to Viktor’s house. Conrad and Kali were still following me. I hadn’t noticed them the entire time, my gaze focused on each house I checked, every alley I passed. I expected to see Nanny around the next corner.

  “I’ll find her. I promise,” Conrad said.

  I nodded. “It’s late, and I’ve got a lot of work to do here. Goodbye.”

  He frowned at my sudden dismissal. “I understand. You have no reason to believe my promises.”

  I hadn’t meant to insult him. The dead end he’d run into on Viktor’s investigation must have made him sensitive. I reminded myself he had no reason to help me at all—the uniform he wore only required him to protect the Central City—so I tried to sound more appreciative.

  “It’s not like that. I apologize. Thank you for everything, Conrad. If anyone can help, I know it’s you.” I attempted a smile, and his expression lightened.

  He kissed my filthy hand without a moment’s hesitation. “I will not sleep, Eva.”

  He gave my hand another kiss then hurried off into the night, moving as though his armor didn’t weigh a ton. He reminded me of a knight on some impossible quest, and he was doing it for me. I closed the door.

  Back inside, the wreckage appeared worse than I remembered. I heaved a sigh before setting to work. Kali wanted to help, but I sent her to bed. She’d been sleeping on the straw floor of a prison for the last two days, so she didn’t protest too much. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted time to absorb what had happened. I also hoped to find some new clue from sifting through the debris.

  Nanny is missing. The words kept echoing in my head, not really latching on anywhere, just a hollow fact I didn’t know how to deal with. Whoever took her had trashed the place, looking for something. Whatever it was, I was certain it had to do with why Viktor was killed.

  The slavers, Harald and Jhenna, had to be involved somehow. Viktor stole their bookkeeper and learned something he shouldn’t have. I initially thought it was the forged papers and illegal slaves like Kali that he had found out about. Except, the punishment for those crimes would be minor—fines, banning from Highcrowne—unlike the harsh penalties imposed on emancipationists. I didn’t see why the slavers would kill over it. Of course, people died for far less. I remembered the street gangs and their never-ending bloodshed. Still, Viktor’s heart had been cut out, his soul stolen. It was not random violence: His death had purpose.

  When they killed him, they hadn’t learned where he’d hidden whatever it was they were searching for. They ransacked the bookshop first and then the house, looking for something small enough to hide inside a book or painting. A document maybe? And Gypsum’s brother-in-law, my hired detective, had been killed too, at the docks, where a slave ship was berthed before heading east. I had no idea where that fit in, not to mention the automaton. And why would anyone take Nanny?

  Even after hours of work, the house was still in chaos and so were my thoughts. I fell into bed when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. My sleep was shallow, and I woke with each unfamiliar sound, imagining the intruders had returned to finish their work. Maybe they would abduct Kali, or me, next?

  I got up with the sun and took a bath I couldn’t enjoy. Kali was curled up on Little Viktor’s old pallet. She was tall and needed a longer bed; something had to be done about that. I peeked in at Jorg too, although I didn’t know why I was worried for him. The steps creaked on my way down, and he heard me.

  “Eva?” His deep voice sounded like boulders tumbling down a mountainside.

  “You’re here,” I said, relieved.

  “So are you! I heard the Guard took you away.”

  “They let us go.” I knew I looked like someone sentenced to hanging rather than set free.

  “Everything alright?”

  “Have you seen Nanny?”

  “The mean old troll who lives upstairs?” That was her all right, and coming from a grall, who must be close cousins with trolls, he would know. “Not for a few days. Is something wrong?”

  “...No. Go back to bed.” Jorg couldn’t do anything to help this time—there was no one to fight. It was like the Devourer had swallowed Nanny whole.

  I cleaned up another section of the house, but I didn’t find anything worthwhile and didn’t feel any satisfaction at the accomplishment. I couldn’t bear to stay inside any longer, so I grabbed my coat and my Ashur and headed outside.

  Snow had fallen thickly during the night, and the streets were powdered in clean, white flakes. It was hushed, the usual morning bustle of carts and street traffic subdued. The few people I saw kept to cleared paths, but I cut across a lane and looked back to admire my footprints. The only thing better than fresh snow was being the first to step in it.

  Karolyne’s place was closed; I could hardly believe it. Then I remembered this was Week’s End. Explained why the streets were so empty. Everyone was at the temples, giving thanks for another week of life. Karolyne would be at the temple of th
e Wheel, where they prayed for Fortune’s favor and a few more silvers for their coffers. It was almost as popular as the Light Bringer’s temple, and some people alternated between the two places.

  I didn’t have a favorite temple. Perhaps Uncle Ulric had put me off religion, or maybe it was being Solhan. Our god walked the land, and it turned out we didn’t like Him very much. I wondered if it would be the same if the Light Bringer came scorching across the heavens, or if Fortune’s Wheel decided to roll across the backs of the merchants bowed before it. People might be less thankful if they stared into the demanding faces of their gods.

  As I feared, Erick was no longer at the Bowl and Crown. “He left for parts unknown.” The matron, who had taken a dislike to me for some reason, was not inclined to tell me anything more than that.

  I didn’t want to go home, so I kept walking. I sought out a path of fresh snow all the way to the Slave Quarter. The market wouldn’t be open today, but the slavers would be in their camp. I was an imbecile, poking a sleeping dragon, but anger burned in my veins like good whisky. I needed to know why Jhenna and Harald had lied for me—and if they had anything to do with Nanny’s abduction.

  Snow crunched somewhere behind me. I glimpsed Gormless before he hid in a doorway. I hadn’t detected him, but Grim must be around as well. Good. Considering my last visit to the quarter, I was not about to begrudge the backup.

  Soft blue light reflected off the snow, except near the wagons and slave cages. A series of braziers and campfires encircled the place, keeping the merchandise warm and lighting everything in harsh yellows and reds, like bodily ichor. I strode toward the heat.

  Before I made it ten paces, arms encircled me, pinning my Ashur against my side. My assailant was fast and strong. He covered my mouth with a gloved hand and pulled me behind a pile of storage crates.

  17│ OBSERVATIONS

  ~

  I WAITED FOR THE FIRST slackening in my captor’s grip and struck with the back of my head. I didn’t hit anything. The man shifted fluidly, avoiding direct impacts from any of the blows that followed.

  Then he let me go.

  I spun, gripping my Ashur, but stopped mid swing when I recognized Duane. Why had I held back? I should have hit him.

  He put a finger to his lips. “Quiet.”

  “I was being quiet. What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been here all night.”

  “Why would you do that? Looking for a girlfriend?” I glanced at the cages, which contained wiry muscled men, no nubile young girls, but who knew what interested him? I planned to say that out loud and see how he reacted, but my response time was too slow.

  “I’m keeping an eye on the slavers. I told you to stay out of this.”

  “What have I ever done to make you think I would listen?” I was in no mood to hear Duane give me orders, but I was curious. “What have you seen?”

  “Plenty of activity since yesterday. Ilsa came and left. Randall and Jhenna argued, then she and her husband left....”

  “You could tell they were married? Harald and Jhenna are as unromantic as a pure elven couple.”

  He smiled. “You’re not as observant as you think.”

  I screwed up my face at him, annoyed. Why did I care what he thought?

  “They returned around midnight,” he continued. “While they were gone, Randall loaded up a wagon with slaves. Bell and Fink followed it to the docks. The loving slaver couple spent a few hours packing up the covered wagons as soon as they got back, before it started snowing. I suspect they will linger no more than a day.”

  My heart sped up. “No. I need more time. They had something to do with Viktor.”

  “What did they do?”

  “I don’t know exactly. You must suspect too, else you wouldn’t be watching them so closely.”

  “I have a feeling,” he admitted. “But there is more going on. Tell me what you see.”

  One of his observation games, was it? He and Viktor were always showing me up. They would glance at the crowd, turn their backs, and describe to me every person there and what they were wearing. I’d practiced whenever they weren’t around until I got headaches.

  “Wagons,” I said acidly, “snow, cages, slaves....”

  “How many cages? How many slaves?”

  I told him, proud of myself. The practice had paid off.

  “Most are empty,” he pointed out.

  “Well, you did say they had just shipped a wagon load off to the docks, idiot.”

  He ignored the jibe. “These remaining slaves are all exotics and will be sold tomorrow. The ones they took away were newly acquired here in Highcrowne. I’ve been keeping a tally of the sales, since this is my territory now.”

  He’d won the war already? I was disappointed in Jessup, but Grim and Gormless had thoroughly beat up what remained of their gang when I was last here. Who knew how many battles had been fought on dark and snowy nights I wasn’t aware of?

  “I assume you have a point?” I felt my voice rising and lowered it again. It would be too easy for someone to hear me in the hushed morning with nothing but the sizzle of flames and gentle gusts of wind to cover the noise.

  “I do. They sold less than a quarter of the number of slaves they did on their last visit.”

  “Good. I’d love to see the slave trade come to an end.”

  “But...” he said, looking me in the eyes to make sure I paid attention. His were a particularly dark green today, I noted, so unlike pale Solhan eyes. “They acquired far more than they sold. Shiploads.

  “Demand is up. There’s a shortage of slaves in the elven districts and prices are high. Yet, the slavers are selling few and spending too much on the ones they buy from citizens. The slaver’s agents outbid everyone else...except for you. You paid more than any reasonable person would for Kali,” he teased.

  I didn’t like being teased. “Are you saying the slavers aren’t selling slaves, only buying them?”

  “They sell a few.”

  “How do you know who the slaver’s agents are anyway?” I asked, doubtful of his information.

  “They’re the ones who buy a slave and, when everyone’s gone home, fail to claim their property.” He left off calling me the idiot this time, but I sensed the unspoken word.

  More bits of the puzzle were bumping together in my head. I had too many pieces of information and no place to put them. I forced my thoughts to slow, and eventually something coherent emerged.

  “They bid on their own slaves—the ones they’re selling on consignment, I mean, or the ones sold by other merchant cartels—through third parties, so no one knows it’s them buying,” I said, and he nodded at the accurate summary. “They’re keeping up appearances. Why? I don’t know much about business, but none of this makes any sense.”

  “I do know about it, and it is very bad business. Hiking up prices and only buying more? My head hurts trying to comprehend the sheer stupidity. I think you’re right—it’s all for appearances. They don’t want people to know they’re taking Highcrowne’s slaves away.”

  “Elves don’t like people doing that, believe me…Did you admit I was right about something again?”

  “No. Maybe.” He gave me a playful smile, and I hated the thrill that rushed along my nerves. He always had a way of making me feel alive. Sometimes I thought it was the danger he represented, but everyone I knew was dangerous, and they never made my skin tingle when they were near. Whatever it was, I distrusted it.

  He gazed in the direction of the river, invisible from here, but I knew it flowed past the base of the mountain on which the city was built. “I’d like to know where their ships are going.”

  “East,” I said. He raised his eyebrows, and I smiled, smug. “I have my sources too.”

  “You know what you missed when I asked you to look around?” He couldn’t let me bask for even a moment.

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  “There are no vagrants, no one creeping close to steal heat from the fir
es. Your neighborhood is the richest in the Outskirts, and even it has more street people. Look.”

  I had noticed. He wouldn’t believe me if I told him, though. I also knew the slavers could place marks.

  They wouldn’t.

  A poor village in Lallaloka was one thing, but someone would know if the slavers were snatching people in Highcrowne. Wouldn’t they?

  “Maybe they’re disgusted by the bogle infestation,” I said, looking for a less disturbing explanation. “I know I wouldn’t want to live here.”

  “When I slept on the streets, I would have hugged bogles for warmth. There’s something else happening.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s happening; I’m going to have a word with the Circle.” I hadn’t seen Nanny in any of the cages, not that they would have been stupid enough to put her out in the open like that. I wanted to look in the wagons. If she wasn’t there, it meant she was on a ship. They could have smuggled her aboard without Duane’s people noticing. I hoped it hadn’t left port.

  As soon as I moved, he yanked me back to his side, and for a moment our faces were a few inches apart, both of us glaring.

  “Let go of me.” I enunciated each word, so they were heavy with menace.

  “No. You can’t walk in there, hurtling accusations. When has that ever worked for you?”

  “There’s more going on than you know, Duane. That couple, Harald and Jhenna, are the reason I was released from jail. I have a right to ask them why they defended me. And... Nanny’s missing.”

  “I know.” He loosened his grip on my arm. “Nothing happens without me hearing about it. I want to find her too. By the Dead God, Nanny is the one who kept me from starving as a child. She’d feed me stew along with Viktor.”

  “Her stew is awful. You sure you want to find her?” I managed a fraction of a smile at my own joke.

  “It was bad, but better than sewer mushrooms.”

  I nearly retched at the mental image.

  More seriously, he said, “There’s no sign of her here. I broke into the covered wagons last night, and she wasn’t with the lot who went to the docks. I’m waiting to see where the slavers go next, so I can follow.”