The Thorn of Dentonhill (26 page)

Fenmere's parlor was once again sullied by the presence of the Blue Hand Circle. This was becoming all too common, and Fenmere was troubled with how comfortable they made themselves in his home. He took solace in one small fact: their presence meant that they had failed. He drew every ounce of satisfaction out of it that was possible.

“So you've come back,” he said as he bit into a plum. He had given his staff explicit instructions not to offer or deliver food to any of the Blue Hand on this visit. All four of them eyed the plum in his hands like dogs being kept out in the yard, denied entry to the kitchen. They sat on one side of the parlor, all on the couch save Kent, who paced back and forth behind them. Fenmere had long known how to tame dogs and spot which one most needed the whip.

At this meeting, the whip was his authority, giving these mages a show of strength. He sat in his favorite chair, giving more of his attention to the plum in his hand than his guests. Gerrick and Corman stood behind his chair. Nevin and Samael both sat in a far corner by the fireplace; Nevin sharpened knives while Samael put together a new crossbow. Bell and a few more heavies stood by the door.

Fenmere ignored all sense of propriety and let the juice of the plum drip down his chin.

“We were ejected from the campus before we found the goods,” Kalas said.

“And so you come back to me, hat in hand,” Fenmere said, wiping the juice with his sleeve. He looked over at the Blue Hand as they stewed in anger and naked hunger. “Why, Fenrich. You're still wearing your hat.”

“What's this, Fenmere?” Kalas sneered.

“I said you are coming to me hat in hand, and yet you still wear your hat. You are sitting in my parlor with your hat on.” He stared hard at Kalas, taking a savage bite into the plum.

“Fenmere, we have—” was all Kalas got out. Fenmere pelted him in the face with the plum as hard as he could. Kalas might be able to turn him into a potato, but that felt good.

“Do you see anyone else in here with a blasted hat on, Mister Kalas? No, by blazes, because it isn't done! You come into my blazing house, you rutting well better take your blasted hat off and hold it in your blasted hand!”

With slow, simmering deliberateness, Kalas took off his hat and held it in his lap with one hand. With his other, he wiped remnants of plum off his face and licked them from his gloved fingers.

Silently, Lord Sirath reached out with his bony hand and took the half plum that sat on the floor and shoved it in his mouth.

“Now, that's better,” Fenmere said. “So you went to campus, tried to find your goods, and you failed.”

“We are almost out of time, Fenmere,” Kalas said, looking around the room at all the men assembled. “We must have our things by midnight.”

“That could be tough,” Fenmere said.

“We have invested a considerable amount of money in you, Mister Fenmere.” Kalas got up from his seat and crossed over. “You should at least have the decency to show concern in our interests.”

“Frankly, Kalas, I don't even understand your interests. You came to me because I could get Poasian-made things into the city. You want to do some crazy magic thing and you need your crazy magic things on the day when the crazy magic is right. Great.” Sirath and the others were all fuming now. Fenmere continued, “But your stuff got pinched. I hate it, but it's part of business. The Thorn is going to pay for doing that. Maybe today, maybe next month, maybe in ten years. But I won't let him go, believe you me.”

“Doesn't help us,” Sirath said.

“Give me something to work with, and maybe I can help,” Fenmere said.

Gerrick offered, “All we know is he's somewhere on campus. We can turn Dentonhill upside down in a day, but the University would take more time. You saw yourself, Mister Kalas, it's not that easy to search for something there.”

“The girl,” Kent said.

“What's that?” Gerrick asked.

“Nothing,” Kalas said. “He saw some dark Napa naked and he got far too excited about it.” Kalas gave an angry glare at the young mage.

“It distracted me,” Kent growled. “Shouldn't have let it, that was stupid.”

“It was,” Sirath said.

“She had our things. She had touched them.” Kent was worked up and red-faced. He shouted, “That dark beast had put her filthy hands on our things! I could smell it all over her, and I didn't realize it because she tempted me with her wickedness!”

“Well,” Fenmere said. “That was helpful. And a disturbing look into the mind of your young friend.”

“So, she had our goods,” Kalas said. “We'll go get her, then.”

“Perhaps I should send my men this time.” Fenmere pointed to Bell and his boys. “Take the other young mage with you. He seems less excitable, and he'll be able to help you find the girl.”

“Right,” Bell said. He limped over and tapped Forden on the arm. “Let's go.” Forden shrugged and got up from the couch.

“Bring her to the warehouse we've set aside for our friends,” Fenmere called out as Bell and the others headed out. “The rest of you should head over there, get everything ready. Tonight is your big night, isn't it, Lord Sirath?”

“Yes,” Sirath croaked as he got up from the couch.

“I'll come out there to make sure everything is going well, but first I'll be heading to lunch.” He got up and went to the door of the parlor, and with the subtlest of gestures had Gerrick and Corman follow him. He turned back to Sirath and Kalas, who looked ready to eat the furniture. “You all don't have membership at the Ullman Club, do you? Shame. The roast lamb is divine.”

Kaiana didn't know how much longer she would be able to stay on campus, and she had no idea where Veranix was. She had tried to get into Almers, but the prefect at the door told her in no uncertain terms that no women, especially a “common strumpet” such as herself, would be allowed to enter. She asked if she could leave a note, but the prefect scoffed at her, casting his doubts on her ability to read and write at all. She left her handprint on his face before she left, which almost got the cadets put on her.

She couldn't leave him a message at the carriage house. She had full faith that Jolen would scour the place and burn anything he found of hers. She couldn't get into the Spinner Run, either, not knowing exactly where the other end of it was.

The simple truth was she didn't have any idea where else Veranix might be. She cursed herself for not knowing more about where he went on any given day, even on a Saint Day. Would he go to the campus chapel? She had no idea.

What had he told her last night? A show at Cantarell Square. Would he still go there, even with everything that had happened today?
He might, if he thought I might be there.

She could go look for him there, but she knew once she left campus, she probably wouldn't be able to get back in. It was the only idea she had.

Kaiana took her bag, an old canvas feedsack that held her few possessions, and went across the south lawn to the gate.

“Child!”

Instinctively she turned to the calling voice. Most of the professors on campus called her “child,” despite the fact she was as old as any of the students, and she didn't lack in height or muscle. The magic professor, Alimen, was running over to her. She slowed her pace to allow him to catch her, but didn't give him further regard.

“I'm glad I caught you,” he said as he came up. He was breathing heavily, and bent over double to catch his wind.

“Did you need something, sir? I don't have much time before I catch a whipping.” Her words came out harsher than she intended.

“Yes, child, about that—”

“It's Miss Nell or Kaiana, Professor. Preferably the former.” She had had enough patronizing for one day.

He looked surprised, and nodded, appearing to accept the chastisement. “Miss Nell, of course. Forgive me. I am deeply sorry for everything that has occurred today. You, unfortunately, got caught in the middle of things that never should have touched you.”

“Happens all the time,” she said. She started to walk away. Alimen put a hand gently on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, but walked slower, allowing him to keep pace with her.

“Be that as it may, I feel a certain responsibility.” He took a small purse out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Not a lot, mind you, but enough for you to pay rent for a few weeks. Enough to get settled.”

“If the landlord doesn't mind renting to Napa girls.” She immediately regretted saying that. “Thank you, though.” She took the purse cautiously.

“It is the least I can do, given my role in your dismissal,” Alimen said. They approached the gate. “Normally, I would say it is no business of anyone regarding your relationship with Mister Calbert, but clearly—”

“About Veranix, sir,” she said, hopeful. “I need to get a message to him, but privately. Could I ask you to—”

“Deliver one to him without reading it?” he offered. He gave her a warm smile. “Of course, Miss Nell. An old man like me doesn't need to read the secrets of young romance.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “I have some ink and paper here, it'll just take a moment . . .” She started to rummage through her bag.

“That's odd,” Alimen said. “There's usually cadets watching the—”

Kaiana looked back up at Alimen, but he wasn't moving, not in the slightest. His mouth was half open, frozen forming the words. “Professor?”

“That's a handy thing,” said a deep voice behind her. Large arms wrapped around her body. Before they could gain full purchase on her, she lifted up one leg and smashed it down on the knee of the person grabbing her. She turned around, landing a hard punch in his chest. He staggered back, but he had three others with him, including one of the men who had come to the carriage house earlier. A mage.

“Got some fight,” he said, grinning at her darkly.

“Do it to her, too,” the one she punched ordered.

“Can't take a girl?” the mage asked. Before any of them could answer, she hurled her sack at the mage. It fell apart as it struck him, her belongings scattering on the ground.

She wanted to run, but that would mean leaving the professor. He was still standing there, paralyzed and helpless. Her father hadn't left her much, except for soldier's wisdom. “Never leave a man to be taken,” was one of his favorite things to tell her.

Even though she was a soldier's daughter, and her arms were as strong as any man's, she had never fought three men at once. These men were determined to take her quick and quiet. Despite her fight, six hands grabbed and held her, covered her mouth. The mage came over, and touched her forehead. With that, she couldn't move at all.

“Quick now,” the mage said. “Take them both.” She could still hear and see, feel every hand on her body as she was picked up off the ground. Before she knew what was happening, she was in darkness, tossed into the back of a cart, Alimen's inert body next to her. The cart started moving. Kaiana couldn't even force her throat to scream.

C
LEAN,
relaxed, and in fresh clothes, Veranix made his way into Aventil. Unable to find Kaiana anywhere on campus, the only place he could think to look for her was in Cantarell Square, on the off chance that she went there looking for him. He didn't want the day to pass without finding her, and starting to put things right for her.

There were no cadets at the south gate, though he spotted two of them walking up the street, strikers and beers in hand. It was odd for both cadets to leave their post during their shift, but he'd seen it happen before.

No local boys were outside the gates either. That was even stranger. It was a Saint Day, though, so it was entirely possible that there were plenty of students out in the neighborhood, keeping the street boys busy. Maybe even the Princes would go to services.

Cantarell Square was bordered by a low brick wall, no higher than Veranix's knee, with two marble statues on ten-foot plinths at opposite corners: Lord and Lady Cantarell, once Baron and Baroness of Aventil, when there was such a thing. In the center of the square, an ancient white stone fountain—long in disrepair—was one of the few remnants from the sprawling garden that had filled the land where the neighborhood now stood. Delmin had once told Veranix that the square was supposed to stand as a reminder of the generous donation of land the Cantarells had made, so that the city could continue to grow. Of course, the truth was the Cantarells were deeply in debt, and selling the baroness's garden to the city was the only way to pay it off. The Square Players' stage was built over the fountain, a hasty structure of several wooden platforms that could be easily disassembled whenever a city official decided it shouldn't be covering the landmark.

The square was full of activity, as the show was going on, and many Aventil vendors and street boys crowded along the edges to pick up the business that would come from the people watching. Veranix hoped that Kaiana would be easy to spot, even in this crowd.

A huge burst of laughter came from the crowd. Up on the stage, the actors were performing one of Veranix's favorite scenes from the play.
Three Men and Two Wives
was a ridiculous comedy in which a poor baron marries off his two daughters to rich merchants, but through a series of misunderstandings three weddings are promised with only two daughters to fulfill them. Every time the show played in Cantarell, Veranix tried to come out to see it. In the scene, the baron was disguised as a washerwoman, while one of his daughters was disguised as a gentleman, and neither recognized the other. The crowd laughed raucously, but Veranix could barely manage to look at the stage. He kept searching for Kai, and she was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, but these clothes are perfectly clean,” the disguised actress said, fending off the ersatz baron, who was trying to take her clothes. “There's no need to wash them today!”

“Washing must be done, clean or no!”

On any other day, Veranix would be unable to breathe, he'd be laughing so hard. Most people in the crowd were in such a state. He moved to the outer fringes of the crowd, searching the faces for a flash of darker skin. He saw nothing but fair Druth complexions, brown and blond hair. Then he saw a familiar face.

Colin stood at one corner of the square, under the statue of Lord Cantarell, giving half his attention to the show, the other half to the crowd around him. More than likely he was keeping watch while some of the Princes stole purses and picked pockets. The square marked the border between Rose Street Prince territory and two of the other Aventil gangs, Waterpath Orphans and Red Rabbits, as far as Veranix remembered.

Veranix approached Colin, but as he moved in Colin spotted him. The two of them locked eyes for a minute, Colin's burning with anger. Colin spit on the ground in Veranix's direction, and then gave a sharp whistle.

In response to the whistle, two other Princes on the outskirts of the crowd pushed each other, knocking over a pie stand. People around the stand screamed and cried, and all attention turned to them. Veranix spotted several other Princes dashing out of the crowd, and when he looked back to Colin, his cousin was gone.

Kaiana didn't know where she was when she saw light again. She was no longer paralyzed, but she was tied to a wooden post, someone else bound at her back. She presumed it was the professor. She was in a large room, a great warehouse by the looks of it, gray brick walls and stone floor. There were no crates or other storage, just people. Some were thugs like the ones who had grabbed her, some were the mages who had come hunting in her carriage house this morning. The others were gentlemen, at least by their clothes.

“What is the meaning of this?” Alimen shouted from behind her. “Kalas, did you really think you could get away with assaulting and kidnapping me, a member of the University and—”

“Actually, no, Gollic, that wasn't part of the plan,” the older mage said as he slowly circled the two of them. He leered appreciatively at Kaiana. “Why did you take him, Forden?”

“He was there. He was disrespectful of us earlier.”

“He was indeed,” Kalas said. “Very foolish, Professor.”

“You are the foolish one,” Alimen said.

“I can feel you, Gollic,” Kalas said. “Don't even think of building up your
numina
. I already have a hand around the girl's heart. You can feel that, yes?”

“Yes,” Alimen said, his voice dejected.

“Good,” Kalas said. He came around to face Kaiana. “Now, young lady, I believe you have been in possession of something that belongs to me.”

“I'm just a poor groundskeeper,” Kaiana said. “Blazes, thanks to you lot, I'm not even that now.”

“I told the professor I had my hand on your heart, girl,” Kalas said, holding his empty hand up to her. “I am quite serious about that.” He tensed his fingers slightly, and Kaiana's chest was flooded with pain. Nothing could hold in her screams.

“Stop it, Kalas!” Alimen said. “Let the girl go. If you have a quarrel with me—”

“He really thinks this is about him.” Forden giggled.

Kalas leaned in closer, his face barely an inch away from Kaiana's. The pain stopped. “Shall I ask again?”

“No,” she gasped, struggling to get her breath. “You don't need to.”

“That's very smart,” Kalas said.

“You don't need to,” she said again, looking up at him defiantly, “because I won't answer.”

“Stupid girl,” he said, and her chest was again nothing but agony. Only the fact that she was tied to the post kept her from falling over. She screamed, but forced herself to keep her eyes open, to stare at Kalas and every other man in the room, to memorize every face. The gentlemen stood in the back, watching what was happening with vague disinterest.

The young blond mage, the one Alimen had called Kent before, came leaping over, his face red with rage. “Tell us, you dark whore!” he screamed. Kalas hadn't released his grip, her chest was still on fire. Despite this, she spit in Kent's face.

He hit her with the back of his fist in response. “Try that again, filth!”

Suddenly Kent was knocked back by an unseen force. “Leave her!” Professor Alimen cried. He was wheezing out of breath.

“Poor choice, Professor,” Kalas said. He squeezed tighter on Kaiana's heart. She couldn't scream. She couldn't even breathe.

Kent stood back up and grabbed a cudgel from one of the thugs who was just standing and watching. He stalked over to the professor and hit him across the head. Then he hit him again, and again.

“Enough!” said one of the gentlemen. Neither Kalas nor Kent reacted. The gentleman came up and put a hand on Kalas's shoulder. “Enough!” Kalas released her, and two of the goons pulled the blond mage away from the professor. She could feel his body hanging limply behind her, held up only by the post.

“She knows!” The last mage, the impossibly gaunt one, came over and pointed an emaciated finger at her. “She's had it!”

The gentleman shook his head. “It doesn't matter.”

“Let us handle this, Fenmere,” Kalas said to the gentleman. Kaiana's heart, already pounding uncontrollably, raced even faster. This was Fenmere, the man responsible for so much death and pain, in her own life and so many others. She was surprised how ordinary he looked, especially next to these powerful mages.

“I don't think this is going to give you anything, Kalas.”

“But she has had our items,” Kalas said. “I can feel it on her!”

“I believe you,” Fenmere reached out and lifted up Kaiana's chin, appraising her face. “But I know something about breaking people, making them talk. I've made men tell me secrets they wouldn't tell God.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “This girl won't tell you anything.”

“So what do you expect us to do?” Kalas asked.

“We do this our way,” Fenmere said, walking away. “Very simply. We want the Thorn. We want what he has. We have something of his.”

“Arrange a trade?” another gentleman asked. “For tonight?”

“Exactly, Corman,” Fenmere said.

“How do we set the deal?” one of the thugs asked. “How do we get word to the Thorn?”

“You lack imagination, Bell,” Fenmere said. He turned to the gentlemen, asking a question he clearly knew the answer to already. “How do we get word to the Thorn, Corman?”

“Hire a paper job, along Aventil and the campus.”

“Exactly. And just to make a point, Mister Corman, muscle a weaker Aventil gang to do it.”

“Muscle or hire?” Corman asked.

“Oh, hire, of course,” Fenmere said. He smirked at Kaiana. “Pay them well for the job. Just make it perfectly clear that not taking the job isn't an option for them.”

“Red Rabbits would be good for that,” Bell offered.

“Red Rabbits it is, then,” Fenmere said as he approached Bell. He gently cupped the thug's face. “I trust in your judgment here, Mister Bell. Please don't disappoint me.”

“I'll—I'll get on it,” Bell stammered out. He whistled to a few other thugs and left the room with them.

“Good,” Fenmere said. “That's all settled, then. Does this suit you, gentlemen?” Kalas and the other mages nodded.

“We're going to trade the girl for the goods?” Kalas asked.

“No, we're going to say we are,” Fenmere said. “When the Thorn comes, we kill him, and you get your things.” He waved dismissively at Kaiana and the professor. “The two of them are your problem, but keep them intact until it's done.”