Duskfall (15 page)

“I know that I can kill a man with anything you can think of. Give me a sword or give me a spoon, and I’ll give you a dead man.”

Astrid met his gaze, her mesmerizing green eyes looking through him.
You know you’re evil when a daemon herself is wondering whether it’s a good idea to stick around.

The girl stared for a moment longer, and just as Knot thought she would get up and leave, she looked down at her plate and grabbed her food.

“Better eat your stew,” she said, her mouth already full. “It’s getting cold.”

* * *

An hour later Knot sat at the bar in the common room, alone, an untouched mug of beer in front of him. He’d sent Astrid up to their room after they’d finished eating, knowing that if he was looking for conversation he’d be much more successful on his own.

He stared at the large map hanging on the wall behind the bar amidst shelves of whiskey and wine bottles. It depicted the Wyndrian continent, most of which was shaped like a rough figure-eight. Khale dominated almost three-quarters of the land mass. Maven Kol and Alizia, the two southern countries, occupied small patches of the lower half. The great city of Triah, marked by a gold and silver Trinacrya, was in the center of the figure-eight, where the Great Western Gulf curved inwards in the middle of the continent and almost met the Kolean Sea on the other side.

The map was another strange characteristic of the inn. Only noblemen, traveling merchants, and military leaders owned maps. Hanging one in the common room was no small thing.

Knot mentally traced the ground he’d covered on the map. Pranna was not marked, but Knot knew where it was, almost in the exact center of Khale’s northern coast. A black square marked Cineste to the southwest of Pranna. Almost directly west of Cineste was a black star that must have indicated Brynne. And, above Brynne, marked by another black square, was the city of Navone. The border city.

Navone was just south of a narrow neck of land that separated Khale from Roden. While Khale was a massive figure-eight, Roden looked like a misshapen bull’s head, jutting out from the northwest corner of Khale with two long, thin peninsulas reaching northeast into the Frozen Sea. The Sorensan Mountains ran the horizontal length of the neck of land between the two countries, making passage back and forth that much more difficult. Knot would have to pass through those mountains. It was the only way to get to Roden.

Knot sighed, and turned his attention to eavesdropping on the conversations going on around him. He dismissed discussions about rebellious children and the state of Cineste’s army. Then, one between two men nearby piqued his interest. He angled himself to get a better view of the speakers.

“My cousin’s from Navone,” one of the men said. He was small, with sharp, beady eyes and a confident air.

“Best tell him to get out for a spell,” said the other, older man. His hair was gray and long, and he wore a short-cropped beard. Knot rubbed his own chin. He hadn’t shaved since leaving Pranna, and was growing a beard of his own. Had a mind to keep it, if only to make him look older and help with the father–daughter ruse he and Astrid were attempting.

“Why’s that?” asked the beady-eyed man. “What’ve you heard?”

“Just that there’s a new bloody religion in those parts. And you know how the High Camarilla feels about ‘new religions’ these days.”

“Aye,” the first man said. He looked up. “You think they’re sending the Sons?”

“At least. Mayhap the Goddessguard, and a Holy Crucible to boot.”

The beady-eyed man cursed. “Need to get word to my cousin,” he said. “A little vacation’d do him good. Although he’d never get caught up in any of that. He’s true Cantic, through and through. Better Cantic than me, that’s damn sure.”

“Don’t matter. Holy Crucibles can look inside you. See your guts and your soul. They’ll know whether he’s a heretic or not, but they’ll also find out if he’s a thief, adulterer, smuggler, or murderer, too.”

“Unnatural, is what they are,” the beady-eyed man said, barely above a whisper.

Knot nodded at the two men. “I’m heading up to Roden,” he said. “I take it you folks suggest I hold off?”

The two men turned towards him. They looked him up and down, but didn’t seem to think much of him.

“Roden,” the beady-eyed man muttered, staring at Knot. “What business you got in Roden?”

Knot shrugged. “Ain’t my choice to head all the way up there. I’m the lowest man in the Thredash Merchant Guild. I just do what they tell me.” The name came to Knot’s mind easily; it was a mid-sized guild in the area.

“You’ll stay away from Navone, if you know what’s good for you,” the old man said. “For at least a month or so. A Holy Crucible’s work can take time, from what I heard.”

Knot frowned. He couldn’t wait a month. “What about skirting around the city?” he asked.

Beady Eyes shook his head. “The Sons’ll patrol the surrounding countryside, looking for people doing just that. You’ll just bring a world of trouble down on you and yours. Best to wait it out, friend.”

“Ain’t another way to get to Roden?” Knot asked. Maybe Astrid would know of one, if these two didn’t. She seemed familiar enough with the area.

The old man laughed. “Ain’t from around here, are ya?” he spat. “Only one way getting in and out of Roden, and that’s through Navone’s Blood Gate. One way and one way only.”

Knot forced a smile. “Business in Roden might have to wait. Can’t say I’m overly angry about it. Roden ain’t the most appealing of destinations, if you catch my meaning.”

Beady eyes nodded in agreement, and the older man, who had been staring at Knot suspiciously, finally nodded as the glimmer of distrust faded.

“Aye.” The old man motioned towards the innkeeper. “Can we get you a drink, stranger?”

Knot shook his head, raising his own mug. “No need,” he replied. “This is my last. Meeting a new partner tomorrow, best to be mostly clear-headed when I do.”

The two men nodded, then went back to their conversation. After a moment Knot stood, handing his full mug to the first patron he saw.

“On the house,” he muttered, and headed up to the room.

He was about to open the door when he stopped.

Inside, someone was talking.

Did the vampire talk to herself? Knot could not remember her doing such a thing. He strained, trying to hear the conversation.

“I don’t know if he’ll let me… for much longer, not… a reason.” It was Astrid, that much was certain, but he couldn’t make out much of what she was saying.

There was silence for a moment.

“Don’t know
what
he suspects.” Astrid again. “Smart, even if he doesn’t remember…”

A pause.

Knot felt a stab of disappointment. He’d begun to form a strange affection for the girl. He’d wondered, once or twice, if he and Winter’d had a daughter, whether she would’ve turned out something like Astrid.

Right. She’d turn out
just
like a daemonic monster.
Knot swallowed. He’d let his guard down, even knowing what she was.

He couldn’t let that happen anymore. He couldn’t really stop her from tagging along, but he would have to be on his guard. The girl was planning something. Whatever it was, he needed to be ready.

“…keep you informed… need to go.” Astrid’s voice again.

Knot opened the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever the girl had been talking to. The room was dark. He could barely make out Astrid’s small form curled up in the corner, on the floor.

Had she been that way the whole time, or had she moved that quickly? He shut the door behind him, and was about to make a comment about how he knew she wasn’t sleeping, when she beat him to it.

“Just take the bed,” she muttered. “Or I’ll eat your face.”

Knot almost responded, but kept it in. Despite what he’d just heard, the girl could still make him want to smile.

You’ve got issues
, he told himself.

He settled down on the bed, looking up at the wooden ceiling as his eyes adjusted to the dark. The girl was a problem, but she wasn’t his only one.

W
INTER FELT A STRANGE
sense of loss as she watched the city of Cineste fade behind her. She had always felt comfortable in the wilderness around Pranna, but this was different. She was leaving all she had ever known.

She looked up at Kali, riding beside her. To Winter’s surprise, the trio—Kali, Nash, and their silent servant, Elsi—had provided her and Lian with horses. Winter rode Nynessa, a small, nimble mare. She patted the animal beneath her. Winter had always wanted a horse of her own; she had loved the animals since she was a little girl, had watched longingly as human children rode horses of their own. But her father had never had the money or the need to purchase one. Now, these people had given her a horse for almost nothing. For information, and she barely had any of that.

Winter still didn’t trust them. But it hadn’t taken her and Lian very long to decide that their best hope to find Knot was with these people, dangerous though they might be. Both Kali and Nash wore curved swords at their hips, and Nash carried a set of strange, circular blades at his belt. Either way, there was nothing she and Lian could do to escape them at the moment.

A part of her hoped that these people might actually
help
. Her and Lian’s efforts had been pitiful. That they had ever expected to find Knot on their own seemed foolish. But with Kali and Nash’s help, perhaps it was possible. Nash was friendly and kind, for the most part. He didn’t look at her as if she were an object. Or an elf. He didn’t look at her often, admittedly, but when he did, it was just as another person. Tiellan or human, it didn’t seem to matter to him.

Kali, on the other hand, was all business, which Winter appreciated, but there was something underneath that Winter didn’t trust. Who these people really were, and what they wanted with Knot, would hopefully be revealed in time. She assumed it had something to do with what Knot had done at their wedding. Lightning across dark water. The memory of him frightened her, but at the same time gave her hope. She didn’t know what Kali and Nash had planned for Knot, but she did not care to find out. If Winter could get to him first, before Kali and Nash, perhaps they could escape. Or at least face these people together.

“You seem lost in thought.”

Winter looked up at Kali. Even though their horses were about the same size, the woman towered over her. Winter was short for a tiellan, and that made her significantly shorter than the average human. And Kali’s height wasn’t average.

“There’s a lot on my mind,” Winter said, staring at Kali. She couldn’t help it. The woman’s height wasn’t the only strange thing about her. Her clothing was strange—tight-fitting black trousers, a black shirt, and a black leather jerkin were men’s attire—and yet Winter felt silly riding alongside her in her loose tiellan dress. She wondered what it would be like to wear such clothing. Any tiellan who saw Winter wearing such things would be ashamed to call her one of their own.

“I don’t doubt it,” Kali said. “Your life is changing.”

Winter nodded, but didn’t say anything. She turned her gaze to the road ahead. What would she say to that, anyway?

“I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you,” Kali said, after a moment. “What do you know of magic?”

Winter raised an eyebrow. There hadn’t been any magic for centuries. “Nothing,” she said, honestly. “Magic is as meaningless to me as the Denomination. They’re both stories people tell to make themselves feel better.”

“I’ll be more specific, then,” Kali said. Winter was aware of Lian pushing his horse closer to them, listening in on the conversation. Nash and Elsi led the way a few paces ahead.

“What do you know of psimancy?” Kali asked.

Winter shrugged. “Never heard of it.” Kali seemed a sensible woman. Why would she care about myths and stories?

“Not surprising,” Kali said. “Psimancers are rare. They use their minds to enhance certain abilities, and make connections with the world around them.” Winter rolled her eyes. Kali smiled. “You think I’m lying. I’m not. But, for now, let’s have ourselves a little lecture. You can listen too, Lian, it’s all right. I’d like you both to hear this.”

“Is she crazy?” Lian whispered.

Winter shrugged. The woman very well could be. What she was talking about sounded like it belonged in the Age of Marvels instead of the People’s Age.

If Kali heard Lian, she gave no indication. “There are, essentially, three types of psimancy,” she said. “But I don’t want to overwhelm you, so let’s just talk about two of them, for now. Telesis is the first. We call people who wield this power ‘telenics’. They have the ability to move and control external objects with tendrils of power from their minds.”

Winter snorted. “You’re saying there are people who can use magic to move things with their heads?” She also couldn’t help but wonder who the “we” Kali mentioned were.

“Not magic,” Kali said, shaking her head. “Perhaps that was a bad way to start this conversation. You’re a skeptic, and that actually might work to your benefit. But yes, there are people who can, as you so eloquently put it, ‘move things with their heads.’ Nash?”

Ahead of them, Nash stopped. He turned his horse around to face them.

Suddenly, Winter’s black-stone necklace—the one she had received at her wedding—ripped from her neck and flew into Nash’s outstretched hand.

Winter’s breath caught. She looked at Lian, then Kali, then back at Nash. It had happened so quickly… it had to have been a trick.

“Give that back,” Winter said. She didn’t know how they had done it, but they had probably broken it, tearing it off her neck like that.

“As you wish,” Kali said. “Nash?”

Slowly the necklace slid off of Nash’s fingers, and floated towards Winter. She stared at it, mesmerized. Lian muttered a curse beside her. The necklace stopped directly in front of her, within arm’s reach. It floated there, nothing holding it up. Winter reached around the necklace, looking for any hidden strings or wires.

This was impossible.

Before she could snatch the necklace out of the air, it moved towards her again, wrapping gently around her neck. There was a click, and then it was resting on her once again. She reached around, and felt the clasp. It was fastened, as if what she had just witnessed had never happened.