Shadow’s Lure (21 page)

While Caim looked around, the old woman perched on a wooden stool. She looked like a bird hunched over her cup, shoulders bowed and the sleeves of her coat drooping from her spindly arms.

“Everyone says old Ida is losing her mind,” she said. “But I still remember you and your father. What was his name?”

“I don’t think I am who you think I am.”

“Such a handsome man he was. A bit scary at first, but he had the heart of a kitten. Used to come over some nights when you were sleeping. We’d sit right here and talk until dawn. Very nice man.”

“A lot has changed around here. The city feels …”

Caim wasn’t sure how to finish that statement. In this neighborhood, which had once been a flourishing community full of life and well-being, the dogs outnumbered the people, and probably ate better. It was as if the entire city was …

“Dead,” she said.

Caim sat back in the chair. Yes, that was what he’d felt, like he’d been walking through a graveyard, every building a charnel house holding naught but the dead and their caretakers.

“What’s happened?”

“Happened?” Her thin shoulders rose and fell. “They’ve all left, or gone down to Arugul’s dark realm since
she
came. All the good ones dead. And those that stayed behind have been sucking this town dry like a pack of ticks on a dead hound. The duke don’t see it. My husband gone. My sons gone, too. And this”—she shook her cup at the walls and ceiling—“this is where I spend my last days.”

A talon of cold slipped between Caim’s ribs to prick at his heart. “Are you talking about the duke’s witch? What do you know about her?”

The old woman gave a sharp laugh. Her eyes, which had looked glassy a moment before, stared at him intently. “You shouldn’t have come back, child. Dark’s been waiting for you.” Then she coughed into her balled-up hands.

“What did you say?”

The old woman’s coughing fit lasted several moments as Caim tried to get her attention with no results. Finally she waved him away.

“Ida doesn’t go out at night anymore. It’s not safe for an old woman on these streets. The shadows.” She wheezed into her cup. “They’re always watching.”

The hairs at the nape of Caim’s neck stood up. He knew what she meant. He could feel them watching him, too. This city was infested with them. The scabbard on his back quivered. Or maybe it was his imagination.

The old woman swayed on her seat, mumbling to herself. Caim set a stack of silver coins on the table as he got up and left the apartment. He’d seen enough. There was nothing here but ghosts and memories, a few good, but more than enough bad ones to drive him away. He missed Kas. And Kit and Josey. Hell, he even missed Hubert.

Caim dropped down the stairs two at a time, heedless of the creaking protests of the boards and the twinge in his thigh. He understood this city now. There were no great mysteries to be solved; just living, breathing, dying people, and he knew where he fit in among them. He wouldn’t wait for morning to leave. If he couldn’t find a guide, he would make his own way. But first he had to do something.

Shadows scattered as he emerged from the tenement’s front door.

Kit huddled behind a pillar of black-veined stone in a field of weathered stalagmites. She couldn’t stop shivering as the wind lashed her bare skin. She had been so long out of the flesh that every stimulus down to the most minute sensation set her off, and nothing in this never-realm could be considered gentle.

The presence returned, gliding past her in the mists. She had first noticed it a few candlemarks ago. Or was it a few days? There was no day or night here, only endless nothing. The first time she’d thought it was Caim’s shadow pet, come back to annoy her again, but as she stopped and waited for it to appear, the presence took on a predatory quality. The disturbed miasma of clouds made her nervous; she’d built up the terror in her mind until she had no choice. She fled.

She’d escaped the feeling that time, but it had returned. Ducking her head, Kit ran until she found someplace to hide. That’s when she came upon this strange formation of rocks. She didn’t know why they were here, but she was grateful for them.

Caim, please give me a sign. Show me how to get back to you
.

There was no answer, nothing but the gray haze and the vast, approaching presence. The prickliness was stronger now, growing with every step she took, but she had no idea how far away it might be. And what would she find when she got there? A trap set up to ensnare Fae-folk caught in the Barrier? But what other choice did she have?

The mists parted, and Kit ducked as a long shape like the fluke of an enormous fish sliced through the murk over her head. She couldn’t control the tremors racing through her body as the presence crashed over her. It was gone a moment later, but the next time it might not be content to pass by. She pressed her chest against the hard stone.

A rumbling snarl cut through the howling winds. Kit sat up as a long, low shape emerged from the storm. She threw her arms around its broad neck and hugged it tight. The shadow beast indulged her for a pair of heartbeats before leaning away.

“I’m so glad to see you!” Kit wiped away the tears in her eyes. “Don’t go disappearing on me again. You hear?”

The creature blinked, and then it looked in the direction the monster had gone.

“I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid.” Kit looked over her shoulder toward the source of the tingling. “I think there’s someplace I need to go. It might be a way out, but I don’t know. What do you think?”

The shadow pet blinked at her. Kit looked into the mists. She had to make a decision before it was too late.
You can do this. Caim wouldn’t let some overgrown fish stop him
. She glanced back to the shadow dog-thing. When she nodded, it nodded back.
Okay. That’s my cue
.

She took a step toward the tingling, and the presence returned, approaching fast from behind. Kit froze beside the stone pillar as the mists billowed around her. The shadow beast yowled. Kit blinked. It almost sounded like the thing was trying to tell her something….

With another yowl aimed at her, Caim’s pet dashed in the other direction, straight at the impending monstrosity. Kit tried to call out, but the shadow beast disappeared into the gloom before she got the chance. A titanic bellow shook the ground. Kit slapped her hands to her ears and fell back against the pillar, but the presence lessened. It was leading the monster away!
Go, Kit. Now’s your chance
.

With a sob, she pushed off from the rock projection and ran into the mists, following the sensation.

T
he carriage lurched as one of its wheels struck a pothole in the road. Josey held onto her seat to keep from pitching into the laps of her companions. Hubert grimaced and shifted about for a more comfortable position.

“This may be a bad idea, my lady,” he told her for the tenth time since they’d left the palace.

Hubert sounded like he had caught a cold. The lantern lighting the carriage’s cabin made him look pale, which only heightened the effect. The adept, Hirsch, watched from the corner of the seat, but made no comment. Josey wasn’t sure what to think of him. At the council meeting she’d learned a great many things, among them that the adept liked to hear himself speak. But even after a lengthy explanation about the Other Side and how it impacted magical affairs here in their world, she could scarcely remember anything he’d said except for one salient detail. Her unknown assailant was very dangerous, virtually unstoppable by blade or venom, and completely devoid of human sentiments. Beyond that, Hirsch carried himself with an air of diffidence. Josey knew little of sorcery, but she had witnessed enough around Caim to be wary of it and those who walked its twilight paths.

“Your objection is noted,” Josey said. “But I refuse to be a prisoner in my own palace. Now, can we please talk about something else before I go mad? Have we heard any news from the north?”

Hubert’s eyes slid toward Hirsch and back to her. Josey motioned for him to continue.

“Nothing official,” Hubert said. “The envoys we sent to the border have not returned, but that is not surprising. This time of year the roads are nigh impassable.”

“But unofficially?” She knew better than to ask how he could have received information faster than the imperial courier system. The lord chancellor’s office had its ways.

“Excuse me.” Hubert took out a handkerchief and wiped his nose. “Unofficially, three dispatches have reached my office.”

Josey almost threw herself at him. “Three? What did they say?”

“If Your Majesty would prefer a private conference …”

She clutched her hands together on her lap to keep from throttling him. “Go on, Hubert! For Phebus’s sake.”

“Very well. They had nothing good to say. Little more than rumors, really, but two of the three mentioned a squabble among the nobility of Eregoth.” The way he said “nobility of Eregoth” with a slight inflection showed how little he thought of their aristocratic brethren to the north. It wasn’t an uncommon prejudice among the peers of Othir, as she had discovered of late.

“What sort of squabble?”

Hubert cleared his throat. “A bloody one, from the reports. More than a score of tribal chieftains were slain. Executed, if it can be believed.” His voice trailed off. “And there was mention of strange goings-on.”

“Strange how?”

Hubert’s gaze slipped over to Hirsch. “Sorcery.”

Josey struggled to keep her face calm, but her insides felt like they were being sucked into a dark hole in the center of her stomach. Executions and sorcery in the north, and Caim had walked right into it. Some part of her hoped he had sensed the danger and was now on his way back to her, but she knew it for a foolish wish. The man she loved would die before backing down from a challenge, and that possibility terrified her more than anything.

“What of the troops we sent?” She almost tacked “after Caim left” onto the end of the question, but caught herself.

“No word yet, but they may be delayed. The mud, you know.”

Josey didn’t want to hear about mud, but Hubert was only doing his job, and under very trying circumstances. Still, sometimes she felt like she had less control over her life than when she was just the daughter of an elderly earl. It was beyond frustrating. Her stomach rumbled. She should have eaten before they left, but as always her preparations for public display took longer than anticipated.

“And the western territories?” she asked, knowing she would regret it.
I might as well receive all the bad news together
.

“Also not good, Majesty.”

This time there was genuine concern in his voice.
For nameless people on the edge of the realm, but not for Caim?
Josey tamped out the thought as soon as it popped into her head. Every living soul within Nimea’s borders was her subject. She had to care for them all.

“Go on,” she said.

“We’ve received messages from various towns. Bandits have struck all across the region. Farms have been burned, livestock slaughtered or stolen. The provincial lords fear they’ll face a famine come spring if matters are not rectified before the planting season.”

Josey wanted to bury her face in her hands. “Where is all this coming from?”

“There is some speculation that a foreign power could be working behind the scenes. Financing the brigands, providing them with arms and safe havens. We have no proof of this, but …”

“Who would be—?”

She already knew the answer, or enough suspects to make a short list. Nimea was surrounded by countries that would benefit from her misfortune. Arnos had the motivation, but that nation would have to be running supplies by sea, a risky proposition in winter. And the merchant-lords of Illmyn were known to dabble in international politics when they saw an opportunity to tip the scales of trade in their favor. The ambassadors from both nations had been curiously absent from her court.

“Find me some proof. Then I can act.”

Hubert nodded. “And there’s another problem.”

“What else?”

“A watch post in Low Town was attacked last night. Two watchmen were injured and some prisoners escaped.”

“Here in Othir?”