Magic Lost, Trouble Found
Page 24Ocnus Rancil may not be the most gifted goblin sorcerer in Mermeia, but pound for pound, he was the sneakiest. Nothing happened in the Goblin District that Ocnus didn’t have his fingers in one way or another. Everyone knew that, including the Mal’Salin family. As a result, Ocnus was what you might call the royal family’s chief weasel about town. And Ocnus’s presence at Tarsilia’s door with several Khrynsani shamans in tow told me that his weasel duties had expanded to include tour guide. Ocnus needed to understand that my home wasn’t a stop for visiting tourists; I needed to understand what Sarad Nukpana wanted with me. Ocnus might not know everything, but I was sure he knew something. I was also sure Ocnus and I could reach an agreement.
But I wasn’t counting on knives or threats to get the results I wanted. I knew a curse and I’d use it if necessary. Generally I stayed away from curses. They had a tendency to backfire, aside from being just plain mean. I had made an exception for this little beauty. I had used it only once, and it had been more than effective. Ocnus had been on the receiving end that time, too. It was repugnant, even by his standards. I had put a three-day time limit on it—fire fleas reproduced after four days. I’m not completely without compassion, even when it came to Ocnus.
I don’t think he wanted a repeat infestation.
It didn’t take long for me to get dressed and armed. I knew where Ocnus spent most of his days. It was in the Goblin District, in a section I normally avoided, but avoidance wasn’t an option if I wanted to talk to Ocnus.
Tam’s staff had arrived to set up for the night’s clientele. A few didn’t recognize me; most did. There were more than a few surprised looks and knowing smiles when I stepped out of Tam’s office. They knew the boss’s office wasn’t the only thing behind that door. After the bath, meal, and nap I’d had, I felt wonderful and couldn’t care less what anyone thought.
“Mistress Raine.”
It was Kell. I walked over to the bar.
“Was the lunch to your liking?”
“It was wonderful. Just what the doctor ordered.”
He nodded, pleased. No signs of blushing. I guess it helped that I was wearing clothes.
“This arrived for you while you were asleep.” He reached down behind the bar and handed me a sealed envelope. “Since the boss had said you weren’t to be disturbed, I waited.”
“Who delivered it?”
“Lorcan took it at the door,” Kell said. “But I got a look at the messenger.”
“Goblin?”
He shook his head. “Human.”
I did a quick scan to check for any unpleasant surprises. Normally a wax seal was just a seal, and breaking it just opened a letter. Sometimes it opened a nasty spell. Better safe than struck. It felt clean, so I opened it.
What a coincidence. Ocnus wanted to talk to me, too. I’ll bet he did. Probably had a nice, cozy little chat planned. Just the two of us—with a dozen or so of his new Khrynsani best friends. Though where he wanted to meet was surprising. Dock Street at the north end of the Smuggler’s Cut Canal. That was on the waterfront in the Elven District, a long way from Ocnus’s usual haunts. The Ruins was at the north end of Dock Street. I didn’t like to be anywhere near The Ruins this close to dark, but it beat the hell out of the Goblin District any time.
It was Ocnus’s chosen topic of discussion that interested me most. He claimed to know why Sarad Nukpana wanted me and the amulet. But the last line of his note baited the hook and I couldn’t help but bite.
And the location of the artifact he plans to use you and the amulet to find for him.
I could smell the setup from here. For Ocnus, information was currency. Apparently I didn’t have any information he wanted in exchange, because he was asking for fifty gold tenari.He wanted to meet at seven bells. I knew that when Ocnus was anywhere near the Elven District waterfront, he had an early dinner at the Flowing Tide, and he always dined alone. Usually because no one else wanted to dine with Ocnus. It was just before six. If I hurried, I could keep him company.
The sun had just dipped below the horizon, bathing the lagoon in golden light. It was my favorite time of day. Too bad I didn’t have the time to enjoy it. I wanted a quiet night, with more than a few hours of sleep. Wanting it didn’t mean it was going to happen, but I could hope. After talking to Ocnus, I could always come back and take another bath—especially since after talking to Ocnus, I’d want to.
A pair of city employees leisurely made their way down the bank of the Smuggler’s Cut Canal, lighting streetlamps. It was the dinner hour, and people were hurrying home to the evening meal. I turned the corner at Dock Street just in time to see Piaras forced into an alley by a pair of cloaked figures. Part of me wondered what Piaras was doing anywhere near The Ruins at dusk. The other part knew it wasn’t his idea. The young spellsinger looked afraid. I looked down Dock Street in both directions. The lamplighters had vanished and there wasn’t a city watcher to be seen. Figures. Just when I could have used some backup.
I had a pair of blades in my hands and a spell on my lips, and I was familiar with the alley Piaras had been shoved into. Unlike many alleys in Mermeia, this one had two exits. The trick would be to get to the closest exit first. Maneuverable space in any street near The Ruins was at a minimum. Not the safest place to cross swords with anything. Halfway down the block was another alley that ran parallel. An opening between a pair of buildings connected the two. In addition to not going in blind, it might earn me the element of surprise. Surprise may not always be necessary, but I’ve found it’s a good thing to have. Sometimes it’s the only thing you can get.
I ran as silently down the alley as I could, checked around the corner and proceeded to the end. I stopped and listened. It was virtually dark between the buildings and completely silent. Great. My hackles went up along with my suspicions. There should be some kind of noise. Piaras may be young and inexperienced, but he wouldn’t go without a fight. I flexed my fingers on the grips of my short swords to ease the tension. Nothing left but to take a look.
Piaras and his captors were standing where I could clearly see them. They were facing the alley, obviously waiting for me. Damn. Piaras had given them a fight, but had come out on the losing side. There was a line of blood from one side of his mouth, and the side of his face showed signs of a fist-sized bruise. One of his captors was big, cloaked, hooded, and had one leather-covered arm firmly around Piaras’s throat, choking off all sound and most of the air. His other hand held a long, slender blade pressed under Piaras’s third rib, just below the heart. His hands were bare—and gray.
The goblin didn’t move and neither did I.
Two more goblins emerged from the shadows. Their elegant clothing and leather armor all but blended in with the increasing dark. Street thugs they weren’t. I knew one of them: Rahimat, the spellsinger from Tam’s nightclub. He stopped to stand beside Piaras, a slender stiletto at the ready. Whether Tam had anything to do with this remained to be seen, but if I got out of this alive, Tam had some explaining to do—and he’d better talk fast, before he couldn’t talk at all.
A slight figure lurked on the edges of the shadows. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to.
“You skipped dessert,” I told Ocnus.
“Business comes first. I can always have dessert later.” He turned to the goblin holding Piaras captive. “I kept my end of the bargain.”
The little goblin’s smile was full of fang. “It’s always a pleasure to do business with you, Mistress Benares.” Then he scurried out of the alley.
Other goblins even better armed started coming out of the woodwork. Under normal circumstances I would have run, but normal circumstances didn’t have Piaras with me and at the mercy of goblins who carried themselves and their weapons with the confidence of professional killers.
The hood of the goblin who held Piaras captive slipped back, exposing the high cheekbones and handsome, angled features of old-blood nobility. A trio of goblins approached me from behind and began relieving me of my weapons. They managed to find everything, and I had no choice but to let them. I looked at Piaras, willing him to a calmness I didn’t feel. His dark eyes reflected equal measures of pain, fear and helpless rage. The leader stared unblinking at me, his dark eyes hard and flat. Piaras was no more to him than a means to an end.
When I was completely unarmed, he spoke. His voice was calm and measured, and he expected nothing less than my full cooperation.
“You will come with us, or the boy will die.”
Chapter 10
There were two types of ground in The Ruins—that which was solid, and that which only looked that way. I hoped our captors knew the difference.
Few remembered what The Ruins’ real name was. It had once been the most exclusive address in Mermeia—until about a hundred years ago, when a personal vendetta between a pair of retired Conclave mages got out of hand. It had been a lush island park in the middle of the city, home to only the most wealthy. When creatures out of a nightmare began haunting the dead mages’ estates, Mermeia’s social elite decided to take their high living elsewhere. Grand villas and sprawling gardens fell into piles of stone and swamp as the trees and lagoon reclaimed their own. Ruins were all that remained of the once beautiful mansions, and the name had stuck.
Since then, The Ruins had become a favorite haunt of criminal gangs and rogue sorcerers looking for a hiding place and privacy for their work and experiments. The descendants of a few of those magical experiments gone awry still roamed The Ruins’ depths. In the course of my work, I’d seen a few of them firsthand, and had secondhand knowledge of others. I was in no hurry to repeat either experience. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">