The Tainted City (35 page)

She flinched. I said, “I want Melly free of this. Wholly free of this—not someone’s pawn, not trapped in a city that might collapse into anarchy. Before, you said you were sorry for what Marten did to Kiran. Did you mean it, or was that just empty words? Because you could free Melly tonight.”

Her face turned austere. “I will not give you money behind Marten’s back.”

I barked out a laugh. “No, you don’t understand. I’d have to offer the entire contents of Sechaveh’s richest gem vault for Red Dal to sell a Tainter before her Change. But I don’t need money, not with a mage to help me. See, back in Tamanath, Kiran…Kiran had this idea.” I stumbled over the words, remembering his quiet courage, his certainty he could help me. What fools we’d both been. “In case you haven’t noticed how it works here in Ninavel, whatever a blood mage wants, he gets. Kiran thought he could walk into Red Dal’s place, flash Ruslan’s mark on his chest, maybe do a little magic in the bargain, and demand Melly be given over to him. Red Dal wouldn’t like it, but he sure as hell wouldn’t risk crossing a blood mage.”

“You’re asking me to pretend to be a blood mage?” She looked at me like I’d asked her to climb an icefall barehanded. I didn’t blame her.

“No. Not a blood mage, Red Dal would never buy that.” I certainly couldn’t picture calm, poised Lena pulling off the predatory arrogance that came as easy as breathing to Ruslan. Red Dal would see through her in ten seconds flat, even if she faked a sigil like Kiran’s, and she had no history in the city to back up her claim.

“Then…” Her brow creased in confusion.

“Look, if you live here, you learn to stay on the good side of all mages, not just the nastiest of the bunch. You march in there wearing something with mage sigils on it—some suitably obscure type of sigils—cast a spell or two to show off, and Red Dal will give you what you ask for. He won’t want to piss off a mage, no matter what kind.” He wouldn’t roll over quite as automatically as he might have for Kiran, and we’d have to sweeten the deal with at least a token payment, but I thought it could work. Especially if Lena was willing to make a few appropriately ominous threats.

Her frown deepened. “Then I’d give you Melly, and you’d vanish from the city with her—depriving us of our best source of information streetside.”

“No,” I said. “I’d send Melly away with Cara, get them both clear. Then I’d be free to concentrate on helping you stop this killer—and to help Kiran. He needs me just as badly. I won’t leave, Lena. Aside from Kiran, I’ve too many other friends in the city who stand to suffer if this bastard fucks up Ninavel’s water.”

Her dark eyes searched mine. I said, “You want to ask me under truth spell? Go ahead. I swear to you, I’ll do anything you ask, if only you’ll get her free.”

Lena stood silent. I waited, my breathing harsh. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I said, “Lena…you want me to beg?
Please.
I’ll give you my blood, bear any binding you like—”

“If I consider this, then you must vow to me,” she said. “You will keep working with us. You will give your best effort, and you will not hold back information you find related to these attacks.”

“Yes,” I said, without hesitation. I’d give a lot more than that for Melly’s freedom.

“Also…I warn you, I cannot lie to a superior.”

I wondered if it was duty or magic that would compel her tongue. “You wouldn’t have to lie to Marten,” I said. “Just…don’t mention it to him, until Melly’s safely gone from the city. It’d be simple, I swear. I’d tell you what to say. The whole thing would take maybe an hour of your time, and you wouldn’t have to act different than normal.” I paused. “Well, okay, if you could imitate Stevan a little, that’d help.” In a mage, Red Dal would mistake Stevan’s type of cold formality for another style of arrogance.

“Very well,” Lena said. “Give me your oath, and I’ll do as you ask.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice husky with relief. “Do you want a blood-mark, or…?”

“I will not bind you,” she said. “I would cast a truth spell, but Stevan would feel it and want an explanation. There is another way…I ask to enter your mind and read the truth of your oath as you speak it. You must give me permission, though; the Council forbids us from entering the minds of the untalented, else.”

Let her into my head? I bit back my instinctive, horrified refusal. I’d said I’d do anything. “I’ll permit you, but…just this once. No more. And only to see the truth, not…dig around.”

“I assure you, I will not abuse your trust.” Her eyes were earnest.

I could never do this with Marten. But Lena…could I trust her? I’d never yet seen her lie. But as I’d warned Kiran in Tamanath, there was always a first time.

For Melly’s sake, I’d take the risk. I nodded reluctantly.

“Take my hand.” She held hers out. I took it, not without a spike of nervousness.

A faint pressure spread behind my eyes. Thank Khalmet, it was nothing like the icy, crushing force I’d endured from Simon Levanian. I hurriedly said, “I promise I’ll do all in my power to help you seek this killer, and give you everything I learn.” And added, more slowly, “I already have plenty to tell.” The silver shard in my pocket felt as heavy as an ingot.

A faint smile touched her mouth. “I thought you might.” She released my hand, and the pressure in my head vanished. I prayed she hadn’t left any lurking spellwork behind.

I said, “I’ll set up a meet with Red Dal. I’ll say I’m acting as middleman for an employer—you—and word the message so he’ll think you’re looking to hire his Tainters for a job. Once at the meet, you’ll demand Melly. I’ll coach you on what to say. I’ll even come with you; Red Dal won’t think it unusual, middlemen often help with negotiations.” Red Dal wouldn’t have believed a solo bid from me, but he’d accept me as a middleman, if I played it right. If he got suspicious, easy enough to convince him Lena had forced me into her employ.

“First, we go to the embassy,” Lena said. “Marten needs to hear what you know.”

New energy sped my stride as I followed her out of the workroom.
I won’t fail you,
I told the Sethan living in my memories.
A few hours more, and Melly will be safe at last.

Chapter Fifteen

(Dev)

W
atching Jylla and Marten dance around each other at the embassy was better than watching a streetside illusionist’s shadow tale. Jylla clearly wasn’t sure how much I might’ve told Marten about her, and just as obviously, Marten wasn’t certain what she knew of him or the investigation. For my part, I kept a close eye on Marten, trying to figure out if he knew the full tale of my shared past with Jylla. Thank Khalmet, Cara had refrained from explaining the whole sordid mess in her letter to Marten, saying only that I’d lost all my earnings thanks to a business partner’s betrayal. Still, I wouldn’t put it past Marten to have somehow winkled out every last detail.

If he didn’t already know, he would soon. A prospect that killed all my amusement over their dance.

But oh, Jylla was good. She agreed readily enough to speak under truth spell, and showed not a flicker of nerves when Marten had her stand in a hastily-drawn sigil in the receiving room, or when Stevan, Lena, and Kessaravil started chanting in soft, shifting harmony. When the spell was in force she answered Marten’s questions without any tell-tale hesitations and in enough detail to keep the Alathians satisfied. Yet without ever telling an actual lie, she managed to downplay our mutual past and imply she’d sought me out because she felt too nervous about approaching a foreign mage directly. To my surprise, she completely avoided mentioning the disappearance of Tainted kids, and to my great relief, she implied that all we’d done in her bedroom was talk about Naidar’s streetside shadow until Kiran interrupted us.

When she told them of the streetside shadow man, the tense, eager silence of those Alathians not spellcasting betrayed their interest, and Jylla’s mouth curved in a tiny, satisfied smile. She described the man all the way down to the charms he wore on his wrists, and both Marten and Halassian looked as pleased as jennies who’d spotted a rich mark.

At last, Marten nodded to Stevan, Lena, and Kessaravil, and the sigil on the floor stopped glowing. He bowed to Jylla and said, “I’m sure you’d like the chance for some rest and food after such a difficult experience. If you’ll follow Lieutenant Jenoviann, she’ll arrange a meal and show you to a room.”

“You’ll keep me safe?” Jylla asked, all winsome entreaty. “Between Naidar’s death and the blood mage this morning, I feel so frightened. But you’ve been so kind—if I could stay here for a time, then when you catch that shadow man, I can confirm his identity for you.”

Marten patted her shoulder. “An excellent thought. You are welcome to stay at the embassy until this entire unpleasant affair is over.”

She smiled at him, shy and grateful, and it took an effort not to roll my eyes. But my nerves surged again when she left the room with Jenoviann and they all turned to me.

“Your turn, Dev.” Marten beckoned me over to the couch he and Halassian shared. A sun-shroud of palest green covered the receiving room’s great window, filtering the midday sun into a soft glow like light seen through lakewater. Frostflower charms dangled from wall brackets; their bone-cold silver spirals weren’t enough to entirely vanquish the day’s fierce heat, but at least the room didn’t feel like a smelter’s oven.

“What, under truth spell?” I said it with weary sarcasm, as if I didn’t much care. Though I certainly did. I’d follow through on my vow to Lena and not hold back anything directly related to the investigation, but I had plenty else I didn’t want to share with Marten, and I wasn’t sure I could answer quite as cleverly as Jylla.

Marten chuckled, lightly as if we actually trusted each other. “I don’t think that’s necessary. But please, we’d like to hear your version of events.”

“Before that, I’ve got news you should know—however the mystery assassin is killing mages and crossing wards, it’s got something to do with the Taint.”

Marten straightened out of his slouch against the couch pillows. “Why do you say so?”

“For one thing, I found bits of silver in Aiyalen, right in front of the spell chamber doors.” I slipped the shard free of my pocket and held it up. “Ward lines can’t be shattered by physical force—assuming the ward was designed properly, anyway—but magic can’t block the Taint. Pick the right spot, strike it hard enough, and wham, you’ve got a pile of metal shards and a disrupted ward. The shards aren’t my only evidence, though. This morning, I saw part of the attack on Kiran.”

“You claim you were in the workroom during the fight?” Stevan eyed me like he was convinced every word out of my mouth without a truth spell in force was a lie.

“I’m not an idiot, to waltz whistling into a magical battle. But the workroom doors were wide open, and I had a pretty damn good view from the hallway. I got there just when the killer struck at Kiran.” I frowned, searching for words to explain the certainty that had gripped me. “The way Kiran was thrown through the air, like he got swatted by some huge invisible hand, with no fire or flashing or sparking to be seen…that’s exactly what it looks like when somebody gets hit with the Taint.” I thought back to how I’d slammed Ruslan into the tree in Simon’s meadow, and felt my mouth stretch in a hard grin. “Trust me, I know.”

Talm shifted forward on the couch opposite Marten’s, his expression abruptly intent. “Adults can’t be Tainted. Did you see a child with him?”

“No,” I said, and looked at Marten and Lena. “You know it’s not impossible for an adult to use the Taint.”

“Only with the assistance of a powerful blood magic charm, and even then, only for a short while,” Lena said, her dark brows drawn together. “Even wearing Simon Levanian’s charm for such a brief interval nearly killed you. Would have killed you, in fact, if not for long days of effort afterward by our best healers.”

“The killer might not have to wear such a charm for long, though.” Marten took the silver shard from me and peered at it. “The attack Ruslan’s spell showed us lasted mere minutes. If the killer used the Taint, it would certainly explain why none of the wards activated, and why the mages’ defensive charms did them no good.”

“If we’re talking about charms made by blood magic, then we’re right back to Ruslan,” Talm said. “Makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? He creates a charm, gives it to someone else to carry out the attacks, and then pretends to hunt them.”

After a brief, silent struggle with myself, I said reluctantly, “I don’t know. When Ruslan showed up, he looked plenty upset to see Mikail and Kiran hurt.” The gods knew I’d prefer it if Ruslan was behind the attacks. But if he wasn’t, and we chased after him instead of the true killer, the city might pay a horribly steep price.

Talm looked sour. Halassian rubbed her square jaw, thoughtfully. The complex knot of her gray braids had not a hair out of place, but she still wore a loose, subtly patterned dress instead of a uniform, and leaned against the couch arm with a casual ease that matched Marten’s.

She said, “The slashes and other physical mutilation seen in the victims…granted, I’m no expert, but you can’t live in Ninavel as long as I have without getting to know something about the Taint. I’ve never heard of a Tainted child being able to cut with it like a knife.”

They all looked at me. I spread my hands with a shrug. “That’s true. I was Tainted as strong as they come, and I couldn’t do that.” I shoved down the memories of all the fun things I
had
been able to do. “Some kids have better fine control than others, but it’s still more like…like using a sledgehammer rather than a dagger.”

Stevan said, “If the wounds can’t be made with the Taint, then we’ve no reason to suspect a charm like Simon Levanian’s is being used. The killer could have brought a Tainted child to Aiyalen as part of his attempt to breach the wards. I hardly think a brief glimpse of a magical fight by an untalented man is enough to base a theory on. Unless you have more to support your claim?” He gave me a cold stare.

Here came the tricky part; I had to play this right if I wanted sanction from Marten for Lena to come streetside, without arousing his suspicion over my motives. “Yeah, I do. Taint thieves have been going missing recently, like somebody’s snatching them, and none of the handlers know why. If it’d been only one kid taken, then I’d say the killer snatched a Tainter just to test Aiyalen’s wards. But to grab multiple kids, from multiple districts…something else is going on.”