Rebel Skyforce (Mad Tinker Chronicles) (7 page)

The Gilded Coin was Cadmus’s attempt to extort money from wealthy visitors to the city. Whatever else might be inferred from the man’s actions, Erund Hinterdale had money. Flanked by two one-worlder guards he’d brought along as much for company as for their aid, Mazzin knocked on the door of room 412.

“Open up,” Mazzin called through the door. “Official business.”

He didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and revealed a woman as tall as he was. She was thin past the point fashionable ladies strove for, with a fair face and reddish gold hair, and was wearing coveralls belted so tightly that it looked as if she must be about to snap in two.

“Official, huh? What sort of official comes with a drawn gun and two fellas along for muscle?” she asked.

Mazzin ignored her question. “Juliana Hinterdale?” She gave a lopsided smirk and nodded. “I am Mazzin Daug, Errol Company security. I’m going to have to ask you to come with us.”

“What’s this all about?” She crossed her arms and made no move to exit the room.

“Your husband threatened Mr. Errol and was shot dead.”

“Wait, you said your name was Mazzin?”

“Yes ma’am, now if you’ll please come with us, we have some questions we’d like answered.”

Juliana raised an eyebrow and called over her shoulder. “Sweetheart, wasn’t Mazzin the name you mentioned to me?” The reply from within the room was muffled by one of the interior doors.

Mazzin heard a door open and the slapping of bare feet on the marble floor.

“Oh, not you again,” Erund Hinterdale replied as he stepped beside his wife, soaking wet and wrapped in a towel. “Listen, I’ve played along enough for one day, all right?”

Mazzin stood frozen. One of his men bolted, but only managed to run two paces before he hung suspended in the air.

“What do we do with this lot?” Juliana asked.

“Did you tell anyone else about my wife yet?” Erund asked. He wagged a finger at Mazzin. “No lying.”

“N-no,” he managed to say.

“Seems simple enough, then,” Juliana said.

There was a blinding flash, then nothingness.

Mazzin stood in Cadmus’s private workshop, where the Mad Tinker was relaxing over a pile of sketches for his great machine. It was dusk, and the red of the sunset cast the room in a hellish light. “Nothing at all?” Cadmus asked.

“He seems to have come alone,” Mazzin replied. “He had a room at the Gilded Coin, but he had few possessions, and nothing so useful as a journal or letters. It seems he was a bit of a loner, only a handful had even recognized the name.”

Cadmus set his pencil down and paced in front of the window. “What could he have wanted?”

“I can keep making inquiries, tinker.”

Cadmus stroked his chin. The puzzle made no sense without more pieces, but Tinker’s Island seemed an unlikely spot to turn up more. “No, I’ll make inquiries in Korr. Thank you, Mazzin.”

“Goodnight, tinker. See you on the other side.”

Chapter 6

“If you want to get rich at a festival, rob a thief. He’s already picked everyone’s pockets clean.” –Tolian the Quickfinger, from the play
Prince of Alleys

The streets of Bouo were never quiet, but during festivals it was a merry riot in the streets. Madlin had lost the count of days as they crossed Khesh, but she didn’t need a calendar to know the Serpent’s Tribute had arrived. Even with a light rain falling, the people of Bouo were out in celebration, many decked out in costumes adorned with green feathers meant to look like serpent scales.

As the wagons crept through the streets at less than a walking pace, Madlin hunched inside with a hand on her pistol grip. The crowds were too thick for her liking, the costumes garish and bewildering to the eye. News of her trek across northern Khesh could not have gone without rumors arriving well before the wagons. If anyone had intentions of ambushing them for their cargo, the crowd could conceal any number of assailants among the revelers.

Dan plunked himself down beside Madlin. “None of the serpents are real, you know. I don’t think you’re going to need the gun.”

“If this were Korr, and this was someone else’s money, I’d be looking for a way to boost it,” she replied.

“Maybe, but it’s crated up. It’s not like someone is going to cut your purse strings and sneak off with it. Besides, half this lot’s already drunk and the rest are trying to catch up.” Dan extended a handful of sweets in a tiny wicker basket. “Here, try one. They’re pretty good.”

Madlin leaned away from the basket. “Do you know what those are?”

“Fella hawking ‘em said they were sweethearts.”

Madlin gave him a sickly smile. “Yeah, fried chicken hearts glazed in sugar.” She watched for Dan’s reaction, but he kept chewing as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Funny, you’d think they’d have given them a cleverer name.” Dan popped another into his mouth. “Really, you can hardly even taste the meat inside. They could have sugared black beans or peas or something and you’d never tell the difference. There some special Serpent Day thing about chickens I don’t know about?”

“Can you maybe
not
eat those right in front of me?” Madlin asked. Her stomach was turning sour with the squishy noises of Dan chewing as he talked.

“What, are you squeamish?” Dan asked. He opened his mouth wide, showing half-eaten sweethearts within. Madlin cringed away from both the sight and smell. Dan laughed. “That’s what you get trying to make
me
sick telling me what they are when I’ve got them in my mouth. You don’t get to be warlock by tossing your lunch over every little thing, but I know that trick. I invented that trick.”

Madlin watched a troupe of actors putting on a makeshift performance for an audience within elbow’s reach. Three of them were dressed as fishermen, and a fourth wore an elaborate serpent costume with scales of oxidized copper. “You don’t strike me as the inventing type. I bet you’d find tinkering pretty boring.”

“You said it, not me. I’ve got nothing against you tinkers, but I just don’t need machines to do my work for me. It’s fine for people who can’t do magic worth horse snot, like Tanner.”

“Tell me, Dan, what do they do when people get sick in Veydrus?”

There was an elaborate sigh from above Madlin, and a basket of sweethearts showered her. “Piss off, Madlin. How many times are you going to try to thief-talk me into giving you magic lessons? Lather up any more jelly on my bread and I’ll rot my teeth.”

“It’s a fair question!” Madlin protested, flicking the foul treats off the wagon and into the crowd.

Dan grabbed hold of one of the supports for the wagon’s canvass covering and swung around into Madlin’s field of vision. “Fine then. For a sniffle, we drink dragon piss. For fever, we lie naked under a full moon. If someone breaks a bone, we take them to the smithy and alloy the bone with iron, then weld it back together. Festering wounds must be bathed in virgin blood. Should anyone show signs of hysterical madness, we treat them with land and title.”

Madlin listened to the tirade with her lips pursed. “How’s the virgin blood thing work?”

Dan’s face grew solemn. “You’re serious about this one, aren’t you?”

“If I can’t find a way to cure septic rot, they’re going to cut my foot off.”

“Make sure they’ve got hot tar on hand to seal it,” Dan said. “I’ve watched it done after a battle. Nasty business. If it were me, I’d almost rather let the rot take me. Then again, it’s not me.”

“What would you do if it was?”

Dan studied her. Madlin had not grown accustomed to the vast age that crept into his eyes when he took something seriously. She couldn’t tell if he was using the aether vision he had told her of, or if there was some evaluation being made of her. “I’d keep it to myself, fix it quiet, in the middle of the night, when no one was around.” He bobbed his head, prompting Madlin for a sign that she understood his double-meaning.

“Good enough,” Madlin replied. She checked over her shoulder, and Jamile was still on the next wagon ahead, sitting with Tanner. “I’ll find you once everyone else is asleep.”

“I’ve got a price though.”

“What’s that? Ten percent of a gold mine not enough?”

“My share’s only five once Tanner and I split it, but I’m not asking for more gold. I’ve got two conditions.”

Madlin’s hand strayed to her pistol. No-Boots had tried a similar tactic on her once. What was it about adolescent boys? “What kind of conditions?”

“First is for your own protection. I’m going to use a spell to watch through your eyes. If anything goes wrong, I’m waking Jamile.”

Madlin shrunk back. “You can
do
that?” Dan shrugged and nodded. “I don’t like the idea of someone else watching what I see.”

“Just don’t go bathing or taking your clothes off in front of a mirror. I’m guessing Jamile and your father aren’t keen on you using magic, or you wouldn’t keep looking over to see if she’s listening. I’ll help you, but I don’t want you killing yourself, either.”

Madlin mulled over Dan’s condition. The thought of another mind lurking behind her eyes sent a cold shiver through her despite the warm Kheshi rain. It sounded similar to her own slumbering consciousness watching Chipmunk’s antics, but without the lifelong familiarity, sisterhood, and trust. Some part of her had always wondered whether she and Chipmunk were even really separate people, and not king and crest of the same coin. Dan’s presence would be alien. “Will I be able to tell you’re there?”

Dan held up his palms. “How would I know? I don’t let anyone use magic on me.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Madlin replied dryly.

“It’s like a wolf pack,” Dan replied. “Biggest wolf doesn’t get rolled on his back for anyone. Doesn’t mean the others have it so bad though. I’m the lead wolf wherever I go when it comes to magic. You want my help, you’re gonna have to learn how to behave in the pack with the rest of them.”

“What says I won’t take your advice, then renege?”

“For your own good, I’d check on you anyway. You haven’t got a sorceress’s mind. You want to learn about magic, but you put your trust in things like locks and guards with rifles. I could slip past any guard you post and get through any door. So, are you just pissing in my ale here, or are you going to agree to my first condition?”

Madlin couldn’t see another way. If Dan had a mind to, she suspected he could make good on all his boasts. He had already proven that he wasn’t deterred by guns. Why would a lock on the door of a rented room pose any greater challenge? “Fine. But let me hear your other condition before I agree.”

“When we get settled into an inn, we ditch this bumpkin festival and find a game of Crackle somewhere with good liquor,” Dan said. He hopped down from the wagon and fell into stride a pace away. He was tall enough that he only looked up slightly to see eye to eye with Madlin.

“Serpent Festival not to your liking?” Madlin asked.

Madlin had heard many descriptions of Bouo. To most foreigners, it was the bazaar of Mongrel Khesh. To frequent visitors, it was a pit of vice and corruption. To the locals, it was the soul of the Kheshi Empire. To the southerners, it was the leak where filth from across the seas seeped into the continent. It was crowded, raucous, colorful, and diverse. She had never heard anyone refer to it as backward or countrified.

Dan gave her a withering look. “Amateur pipers on every corner, warbling out the same tired ditty without end. Kids dressed in feathered hats, pretending to be dragons—”

“Serpents,” Madlin corrected.

“It’s all the same to them. None of them has seen a real dragon; no one gets to be eight years old still believing they’re real. Food’s not half bad for Khesh, but it’s all sugary and it’ll sour my stomach if I eat much more of it. I’d just rather have a bit of a good time fleecing the locals at cards.”

“What do you need me along for, then?”

“Tanner’s too good, and I’m sick of following him everywhere anyway. I need someone of age to get me in and swap drinks with me. I’ll order whatever you like, so long as you get me whiskey or ale—I’ll let you know which before the serving girl comes ‘round.”

“You sure this isn’t just an excuse to hang around me?” Madlin asked. Perhaps the direct approach would get Dan to falter and reveal his intentions.

Dan rubbed at the side of his face. “Not sure how to break this to you, but I see plenty of you these days. I’m not dog tired of you like I am with Tanner, but unless you get up and dance on the tables, I don’t expect to see anything I haven’t already outta you.”

Madlin frowned. “I don’t dance.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Dan replied.

Rooms were impossible to find in Bouo during festivals, but certain sums of money shifted the impossible through unlikely and plausible, and into the realm of the done deal. Five rooms on an upper floor and space in the adjoining carriage house for their wagons, and Madlin’s caravan was settled at the Silverhorse Inn. They’d paid triple the usual rate and had to bribe the occupants to vacate, but with Madlin’s money and Tanner doing the talking, it had been arranged.

Madlin threw the satchel with her personal belongings onto the bed and slammed the door shut behind her. The room was cozy for the price it had commanded, but it was all hers. It had been far too long since the last time she had accommodations all to herself in Tellurak. It had doubled their expenses to take on an additional two rooms so that no one but the guards were sharing, but it was worth every fonn.

Cares left aside for the moment, Madlin collapsed onto the bed crossways and luxuriated in the feel of a proper mattress beneath her. The music from the Serpent’s Tribute festival wafted in through the slats in the windows, though she had chosen a room that backed onto a little-used side street that was barely more than an alley. It was just as well; pure silence wouldn’t have been any greater comfort.

Madlin’s unwinding was cut short by a quick series of raps on her door. For a moment, the thought of ignoring the summons and pretending she wasn’t there crossed her mind, but the moment passed. She stretched as she rose, and checked to see which tagalong had come first to claim her, Jamile or Dan.

When she opened the door, she found the young warlock waiting patiently, his hands clasped behind his back.

“What’ve you got back there?” Madlin asked.

Dan looked puzzled for a moment, then held his hands out in front of him, palms up. “Nothing. By the winds, you’re paranoid.”

“My father always said that was a lazy man’s word for cautious.”

“There’s caution, then there’s worrying about what your bodyguard has behind his back,” Dan said.

“Oh, so you’re my bodyguard now?” Madlin asked. “When did I hire you?”

“About the time we wandered into Kheshi territory armed, and you had promised me a sizable fortune in gold that you hadn’t delivered yet.”

“Does that mean I can leave my pistol behind? You’ll be there to defend my life and honor?”

“Do what you want with your honor, but I’m seeing you alive to Tinker’s Island if I have to burn Bouo to the ground to do it.”

Madlin checked that the pistol was loose in its holster. “Guess I’ll keep it on me then. Where are we headed?”

“Someplace that will play Crackle with trade bars,” Dan replied. “We’ll look around until we find one.”