The City of Towers: The Dreaming Dark - Book I (47 page)

Finally Alina spoke. “True. That is ever the way with magical experimentation, and I suppose that it’s for the best. If someone did find a reliable way to remove and transfer the powers of a dragonmark, what would happen to our civilization? Certainly, if I could buy a dragonmark, I would, and I’m certain I’m not alone. As you’ve already seen, there are those who would be more than willing to kill to obtain the power.” She smiled at Lei. “How lucky for you, my dear, that the workshop was destroyed.”

Daine shivered. He knew that Alina’s minions would be searching through the wreckage beneath High Walls before the day was done. He hoped he and Pierce had done enough damage to render the workshop useless—though somehow, remembering the inhuman thoughts that had flowed through his mind, Daine thought the technique might require the touch of the mindflayer.

“In any case, you have completed your task, and at a terrible cost. How would you like to receive your payment? In coin? Jewels? A letter of credit?”

“Actually, Alina, I have a favor to ask.”

Alina’s eyes glittered in the light of the amethyst fire. “A favor? Well. What can I do for you, Daine?”

“I imagine that when it comes to matters of business, you have a few connections in the city.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d take a portion of our payment and help us purchase property in Sharn.”

Alina arched a perfect eyebrow. “A piece of the tower? A costly proposition.”

“I’m interested in a place in High Walls.”

Alina’s face was as expressionless as ever, but Daine could
feel
her sneer. “Well, yes, that I could arrange. Do you want a hole in the wall or something vaguely bearable?”

Now Daine could feel Lei’s stare. “Bearable. As good as we can get. No lice.”

“A tall order in High Walls,” Alina said. “But one I can accomplish.” She considered for a moment, then reached through one of the mirrored walls. When her hand emerged, she was holding a small casket. She handed it to Lei. “A respectable home will be expensive, even in High Walls. But here, my lady Lei, a hundred platinum dragons for you and your friends. Hopefully you can find some little luxury amidst the squalor your captain has chosen for you.”

Lei took the casket but said nothing.

“And as for you, Daine, I’m sure that you can imagine my surprise when I found an heirloom sword in the hands of a pawnbroker. I was even more surprised by the condition it was in. The pommel had been badly damaged. I had it restored to its original condition, and I thought that you might want it back.”

She reached into the mirror again and pulled out a long sword. Daine’s sword. But it was almost unrecognizable. The blade had been sharpened and polished to a mirror finish, but what drew the eye was the hilt. When he had served in the guard, the pommel of Daine’s sword had been worn down, devoid of any detail. Now the hilt was as polished as the blade, and the pommel was glittering black and silver, engraved with the watchful eye of House Deneith.

“I’m sure that your grandfather would be proud to see it back in your hands,” said Alina, smiling slightly.

Daine took the sword without a word. Lei and Pierce looked at him, but it was clear from his expression that this was not the time to ask questions.

“It will take a few days to locate an appropriate property,” Alina said. “I’ll arrange for rooms at the Silver Tree for the interim. It’s just down Prospers Street.”

“We still have our room at the Manticore,” Daine said.

“Daine,” Alina said reprovingly. “Won’t you allow your companions a chance to see the best that Sharn has to offer before you settle down in the depths? Enjoy a few days of luxury, at least. Consider it a gift.”

“I told you before, Alina …” Daine paused and turned away. He looked at Lei. “Fine. We’ll be leaving, then.”

“I’ll be in touch when I’ve located your new home. And I was very pleased with the way you handled yourselves. All of you. I’m sure I’ll have more work for you soon. Until then …” She gestured, and the mirrored door drifted open. “You know the way out.”

“‘I’m sure I’ll have more work for you soon.’” Daine fumed as they made their way through the relentless cheer of the streets of Den’iyas. “Whether you like it or not.”

Lei caught him by the arm and pulled him to a halt. “High Walls?”

He looked away. “You said you were willing to stay in the city for a time. I thought we’d be able to get the most for our gold in High Walls.”

“I told you before, Daine. Cyre was your home, not mine. I only lived there.”

“You were born in Cyre, Lei. You fought at our side. Your parents died there.”

For a moment, there was a flash of real anger and he thought he might have pushed her too far. “And
you!”
she said. “How do you explain this?” She slapped the pommel of his sword. “Is there something we should know, Daine
with no name?”

“Do we need to have this conversation in the street?”

“I want answers.
Now.”

“Fine,” Daine said. “I was born into House Deneith. My father is General Doran d’Deneith of the Blademark. This is my grandfather’s blade, and yes, I removed the sigil when I joined the Cyran Guard.”

“Do you have—?”

“The Mark of Sentinel? No. I failed the Test of Siberys, much to the disgust of my father.” Lei looked away, embarrassed.

“But that was only one of many disappointments and far from the worst. You see, I
cared
. I wanted to believe in what I was fighting for, to believe that I was actually serving a noble cause. But when your family business is built on selling your sword for
gold, caring is a crime. You fight for anyone with the gold, and you do whatever you’re ordered to do.”

His tone had become more intense with each sentence. Lei still wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“For a time, I played the part of the good son. I served a wealthy client of the house, and I did whatever was asked of me. I saw things—and
did
things—that will haunt my dreams until the day I die. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. I renounced my birthright and turned to something I did believe in—the nation of Cyre, the nation that had sheltered me since I was a child, whose values I admire to this day. Perhaps I wasn’t born a citizen of Cyre. But in my few years of service, I learned more about morality and friendship than I ever did as a child of Deneith.”

“Daine …”

He took a deep breath. “And the irony? Look what it got me. I threw away my inheritance for a land now dead. It seems my father was right after all. Live for the moment. Take your satisfaction from the work, not the master.”

“Daine, enough!” He just looked at her. “Fine. I didn’t know. Obviously I have a lot to learn—and obviously, you’ve been keeping a lot of secrets from us.”

Now it was Daine who looked away.

“But what does this have to do with now? With a life in High Walls?”

“Greykell was right. Cyre is gone, and we need to move on. And I admit it, you deserve better than you’ve received these last few years.”

“I know that.”

“But High Walls still feels as close to home as we’ll find here. I know it’s not what you’re used to, Lei, but a hundred dragons won’t buy a mansion in the clouds.”

Lei sighed but acknowledged the point.

“I don’t know what happens next. I was fighting for a cause, and that cause is gone. I’m a soldier. I’m not some sort of refugee caregiver. I’m not going to start wandering around like Greykell, helping people find work.”

“But …?”

“I don’t know,” Daine said. “Teral was a strong figure in the community; I’m sure there’s going to be chaos with him gone.”

“Greykell can handle it.”

“Possibly. But what about Teral’s other followers? I’m not going to become a caretaker, and I’m not asking you to help. But I am a soldier, and if I can help to protect these people, I will.”

“I was created to protect the people of Cyre,” Pierce rumbled. “I will join you.”

“This wouldn’t be a constant commitment, Lei,” Daine said. “But we’d be there if Greykell and her militia needed help. In the meantime, we look for other work. Look for something to believe in. For a cause worth fighting for.”

Lei pondered for a moment. “Why do I hear Jode when you’re speaking?”

Daine thought about Jode, about the halfling who let a young goblin steal their gold. “Because you know he’d say the same thing.”

“Fine,” Lei said. “But I’m sick of sleeping on moldy, hard pallets. We’ve got a hundred dragons to spend: I expect a good bed.”

“As you wish.”

“And I never want to see a bowl of gruel again.”

“No complaints here.”

“Well then, let’s get back to the Manticore. If we give her some gold, do you suppose Dassi can get some real meat for dinner? After gruel, lizard is next on my list of forbidden foods.”

Lei linked arms with Pierce and Daine, and they walked to the lift that would take them home.

Later that night, Daine excused himself and returned to the dusty room. Rummaging through his pack, he found the leather-wrapped bundle he’d hidden that morning and carefully unwrapped it. Inside there was a small bottle made from thick crystal and sealed with lead. The fluid inside was a luminous blue, and the mark pressed into the seal was as
familiar to him as a friend’s face—the Mark of Healing, the mark of Jode.

For a few minutes he sat alone in the dark, holding the bottle and staring into the glow. Finally, he wrapped the bottle up and placed it back in his pack.

“Good night, old friend,” he whispered.

T
he room was full of shadows. Sunlight streamed through the solitary octagonal window, but this light had no power over the darkness. The shadows pooled in the corners of the room, and inky tendrils drifted across the room, obscuring the intricate sigils carved into the floor.

A woman stood by the window, and the shadows clung to her feet like petulant hounds. Though the room was quite warm, the woman kept her long cloak wrapped closely around her body, and her face was hidden by a deep hood. Silently, she stood by the window and stared at the world below, at the district of High Walls almost three thousand feet beneath her. The wind was a constant presence, whistling and howling through the open window. But no matter how powerful these gusts became, they had no effect on the misty shadows that clung to the corners of the chamber or the deep hood that hid the lady’s face.

“Report,” she said. Her voice was a velvet purr—smooth and quiet, yet resonating throughout the chamber.

The man hesitated, surprised. He had just entered the room, and the lady’s back was turned. He had a gift for moving quietly, and with the sound of the wind whistling through the chamber, it seemed impossible for her to have heard his approach.

She turned around, her eyes gleaming in the depths of her hood. “Captain?” she said with a smile.

Captain Grazen inclined his head respectfully. “The workshop has been destroyed, and the mindflayer is dead. The damage was extensive, and we couldn’t find anything of value.”

“I doubt Chyrassk is dead, Grazen,” she said. She lowered a hand toward the floor, and a tendril of mist reached up to embrace it. “It is difficult to kill a child of Xoriat, and Daine lacks the knowledge such a task would require. But its power is broken for the moment. With its tools destroyed and its chief agent slain, I imagine that it will be some time before Chyrassk shows itself again.”

“You aren’t concerned?” Grazen was visibly relieved.

“Not at all. Chyrassk served its purpose—as have my friends in the House of Cannith. The only issue is Flamewind and whether they will make sense of her riddles before it is too late.”

“Why haven’t you eliminated the sphinx, if she poses a threat?”

Green eyes gleamed in the shadows, and for a moment Grazen thought he had overstepped his bounds. But the lady answered. “Until I know what power Flamewind serves, direct action is unwise. But I am not concerned. Everything goes according to my plans. Lei has been driven from her house. Jode is dead. Pierce is beginning to awaken to his true potential. And Daine …” The dark mist swirled around her feet as she smiled. “The game has been in motion for longer than you can imagine, Grazen. Now the endgame begins. Keep an eye on Daine and his companions. Soon it will be time to put them into play.”

She dismissed him with a gesture, and Grazen left the room, running from the shadows and searching for the light.