The City of Towers: The Dreaming Dark - Book I (30 page)

The man was still talking. She looked down at him and shook her head. Did he want the skinless man? She put her hand to one of her cheeks and pulled at the skin, miming the action of a blade with the other.

Clearly he couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. She held her fingers up around her mouth and wiggled them, but he didn’t seem to understand that either.

Suddenly he tapped his forehead. A thought? He spoke again, but the words were just as meaningless as before. She shook her head. He beckoned to her, indicating that she
should sit down. Gingerly, she did so—she rarely sat during the day.

Why was he doing this? What did he want?

He touched his mouth with his forefinger then made a turning gesture with his thumb and forefinger. She tried to study his face for clues, but as she did all of his features seemed to slip away, leaving her looking at a pure smooth slate. She winced and looked away, and as she did his features reappeared. It had to be her, she thought. One more change. One more thing that they’d taken away from her.

The visitor spoke again. She thought there was a twinge of frustration in his nonsense words, but she couldn’t say for certain. What happened next surprised her. He reached out and touched her face. His hands were soft and gentle, and they slowly drifted across her lips.

“Welcome,” a voice said.

She could understand! She knew these words! Then she saw the fear in the stranger’s eyes and realized who it was that had spoken.

The skinless man had come into the room. His hood was thrown back, revealing the raw muscle that covered his face. “I wasn’t expecting visitors,” he said, “but this is a most welcome surprise.”

The visitor said something in return, but his words were still a chaotic blur of sound.

“I’d be happy to explain,” her master said, slowly moving closer. “But there are better places for it. You’ll come with me, I trust?”

She couldn’t let it happen. She pushed the visitor as hard as she could, and he went staggering for the door. But he seemed to understand, and as soon as he caught his balance he ran.

But it wasn’t enough. The skinless man cracked his arm like a whip, and a tentacle of flesh flew forth from his sleeve. The glistening tendril wrapped around the visitor’s ankles and pulled him to the floor. Her master called out, and one of the claws came through the door. There was a brief struggle, but the outcome was never in doubt.

“Take him below,” her master said.

The claw threw him over her shoulder and carried him off.

The skinless man turned to face her, his mad eyes glittering in their deep sockets. “And you … I suppose I’ll have to think of something new for you.”

His laughter echoed in her ears as he turned to follow the claw.

T
he common room of the Manticore was nearly empty. Dassi the innkeeper had provided Daine, Pierce, and Lei with a battered deck of cards, and they’d been playing three stones for the length of a bell.

“He’s an hour late,” Lei said, crossing the king of fire with the alchemist.

“So?” Daine said. After a moment’s thought, he picked up the alchemist of fire and replaced it with one of his water cards. “Jode’s dealt with Darguuls, Valenar warriors, agents of the Citadel. What are you afraid of?”

“Well, for a start, most basilisks have two eyes. So who’s got the other one?”

“Good point.”

“Where did he go, anyway?”

“It must have been something Alina said. I remember he had a strange look on his face at one point … Aureon’s blood! I can’t remember what it was.”

“Could he have gone back to see her?” Lei drew a card.

“It is unlikely,” Pierce said. “I was able to follow him for a short time, and he moved directly to a lift. It departed before I reached it, and by the time it returned the trail was impossible to follow.” It seemed to Daine that Pierce had been slightly distant since they met up at the Manticore, but as always it was difficult to read the moods of the warforged.

“Do you think that he came back here?” Lei asked.

“There’s no way to know, my lady.”

“I’m not a Cannith anymore, Pierce,” Lei said. “I don’t have a title.”

“You will always be
my
lady,” the warforged said.

Lei smiled. “At least I still have that.” She considered her cards and then looked up. “You know, I’ve never actually asked you, Pierce, when were you constructed?”

“I was part of the second legion, my lady, forged in the nine hundred and sixty-eighth year of the kingdom.”

“That’s when I was born!” she said. “The second legion … so Aaren d’Cannith himself would have worked on you.”

“I never learned the names of my creators,” Pierce said. “Is this of interest?”

“I don’t know. The sphinx asked you about it, didn’t she? Maybe that’s what she meant when she asked about your parents.”

“I suppose. And have you had any insight about your brothers?”

“No, that still doesn’t make any sense.”

“And I still haven’t lost anything,” Daine pointed out. “Perhaps she was just playing games.”

“It’s certainly possible,” Lei said. “But what are the stakes? Who’s she playing against?”

“Three stones is normally played for silver,” Pierce said. “And yet we are playing with no coins. Is the satisfaction of victory not sufficient reward?” He drew and then started a cascade, covering the board with water cards. The others sighed and threw down their cards.

Greykell showed up as the fifth bell was ringing. “Well met, my friends!” she said, driving the air from Daine’s chest with a powerful embrace. She went around the table, hugging each of them in turn. “And have you had a productive day?”

“No one’s tried to kill us for an hour,” Daine said. “Any news on Hugal?”

“You mean Monan? No, not yet, I’m afraid. That’s why I stopped by. I’m still going through my rounds, and I have a
few more places to check. Obviously I could use your support, but I also thought it would be a chance for you to meet more of our people.”

Daine shrugged and set down his cards. “Why not? The only reason I haven’t lost all of my money to Pierce is because I didn’t have any to begin with.”

“Come by the militia tent tomorrow night,” Greykell said, slapping Pierce on the shoulder. “We’re always looking for a few good players, and I assure you, my imaginary money is every bit as good as Daine’s.”

“I think I’ll stay here,” Lei said. “There’s an alchemical formula I’ve been trying to perfect, and I want to take another look at the information we have about the stolen shards.”

“Oh, come along,” Greykell said, pulling the smaller woman up and out of her chair. “The splendor of High Walls awaits you!”

After a little more encouragement, Lei agreed to join the expedition. Pierce agreed as well, stringing his massive bow.

“There are still many dangers in this area,” he said. “I believe it is best if we remain together.”

“That’s the spirit!” Greykell said. She studied the markings on Pierce’s torso plating. “Second legion, right? ‘Sword and Steel. We Stand As One.’”

“That was the motto of the legion, yes. Most of the legion was dispersed among the human units. I rarely fought alongside my own kind.”

Greykell smiled and shrugged. “Well, stand as one with us humans.” She turned to the others. “Now let’s go looking for your evil twin.”

Although Cyran refugees made up the vast bulk of the population of High Walls, people of many nationalities had found their way into the district. During the height of the war, High Walls had served as a prison in all but name, a place where people of questionable loyalty could be concentrated into a single location. As they wandered through the maze of alleys surrounding the district, Greykell stopped frequently
to check on the various families and clans that lived in the decrepit old buildings. A Lhazaar patriarch insisted that they taste his cold fish stew, and a former siege engineer from Karrnath eagerly discussed the science of fortifications with Lei. Greykell seemed to know everyone in the district, and everyone they met wanted to talk. Time passed in a blur of war stories, local gossip, and health problems. Greykell celebrated the triumphs and sympathized with the misfortunes. Often she was able to solve the problems of the most miserable. One man knew of openings in one of the foundries beneath the city. Another had lost his job because of a bigoted Brelish foreman. It soon became clear why Greykell had asked Lei to come along. She’d picked up on Lei’s skill as an artificer and convinced her to fix broken tools and furniture. She wove a web of connections across the community, and Daine was impressed by her knowledge and charisma.

But there was no sign of Hugal.

“Did you actually expect to find Hugal in there?” Daine said. They’d just emerged from a tenement inhabited by a mixed family of orcs and humans from the Shadow Marches.

“No,” Greykell admitted cheerfully. “But you never know with changelings, do you? I’m just following my usual path. I believe the most likely place to find your friend is up ahead.”

“Do you do this every day?” Lei asked.

“More or less. When I arrived, there was a lot of tension in High Walls. The Karrns hated the Thranes, they both hated the Cyrans, and everyone hated the Lhazaarites. That’s still there, though most of the people conceal it around me to be polite. People don’t change in a day, but progress is being made. The war is over. And more importantly, we’re not Cyrans and Karrns any more. If this is where we’re going to stay, then we need to start thinking of ourselves as the people of Sharn.”

“I don’t see the Brelanders welcoming you with open arms.”

“I didn’t say citizens of Breland. I said people of Sharn. I’m not asking you to forget Cyre, Daine. I just want you to put the welfare of your neighbors ahead of a nation you’ll never see again.”

Daine frowned. There was some sense to what she said, but he’d spent the last ten years fighting Brelanders and Karrns, and it was hard to let that anger go in a day. And despite the months he spent in the Mournlands, it was hard to accept that Cyre truly was gone forever.

“And what does Councilor Teral think about this?” he asked.

“Teral and I don’t always see eye to eye, but he’s done a great deal to hold the community together. He brought a large number of survivors out of the Mournland, and it was his gold that paid for many of the tents in the square. If you ask me, it doesn’t do us any good to pretend that Cyre will return. But Ambassador Jairen agrees with Teral.” She shrugged.

“Jairen? You mean we still have an ambassador?”

Greykell nodded. “With so many Cyran refugees in the city, the mayor decided to allow the embassy to remain open. It doesn’t have any real power, but they’ve been helping people find work, track down family members … that sort of thing. More or less what I do every day. They’re just dealing with Karrnath itself instead of the families of Karrn veterans.”

“Hmm.”

Greykell stopped walking for a moment. “All right, this is our final stop. Watch your step.”

They were standing outside an old tenement building. The door had been torn from its hinges and was nowhere to be seen, and most of the windows were covered with boards.