Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (10 page)

Pieces fell into place, and Felice saw light dawn on Avigdor’s face. She kept her expression neutral. Sorcery as a weapon, and possibly able to affect the mind in some way. She’d stumbled onto fragments of information a number of times that had her asking questions, but the emperor or his warlocks always told her to stop digging. She’d never gotten further than that, and she knew almost every secret in the empire. It explained much about the invaders, and also the Protectors. She knew they had been hiding a secret but had no idea it was this significant.

She waved away Izak’s words as if they were irrelevant, though nothing could be further from the truth. They needed to make sure Izak stayed with them and didn’t think the information he had was valuable. Felice unfolded her legs and walked over to him. She knelt on one knee before him and looked into his eyes. “We need you, Izak. We need your contacts, your network among the population. It complements ours and would go a long way to helping us resist this invasion. Make no mistake, Izak. We are at war, and with a foe we hardly know anything about. We have no idea what they want, or what they are capable of.”

Izak’s face had gone red, and he glared at Avigdor. “So long as it doesn’t get me killed.”

“Good.” Felicienne patted him on the knee and stood. “We need to fight alongside each other. And I mean that in a purely figurative sense, when it comes to you Izak. There is more than one way to fight these invaders, and we have men for the physical side. Now, this way out of the city.”

“Bees may have some friends who may have another tunnel. The Indryallans will be all over the one Bees used before.”

“May? I assume by that you mean they do, but it may be difficult for us to arrange access?”

“Er, yes. These people… they don’t make their ducats legally. If someone of your… notoriety were to approach them, I don’t think they’d be pleased.”

“You can arrange it through Bees for us. We have twenty people we need to get out.”

“Twenty! That’ll cost you.”

“My lady,” Avigdor said. “Ducats are a problem.”

“I know. We’ll have to come up with a plan.” Felice groaned with frustration at their predicament. She had managed to warn most of her department and secure hiding places for them, albeit in the decaying Cemetery of ships where she had secreted herself, but they were not soldiers. Extremely competent in their roles, yes, but far from the people she needed to run an effective campaign against the invaders. And as Avigdor said, their finances were almost nonexistent. What ducats she had managed to salvage before fleeing had mostly been spent. Their resources had started out meager and were getting worse.

She looked up at the ceiling, which was covered in lewd frescoes. “Any suggestions?” she asked.

Avigdor resumed his seat and folded his hands together, taking his time to ponder their position, as was his usual habit. Beside him, Izak drew out a kerchief and wiped his nose, then held up a hand.

“If I may,” he said.

Felicienne waved at him to continue.

“Thank you. Well, we obviously can’t go to the nobles for support. At least ducat-wise. Until they see which way the wind’s blowing, we can’t rely on them. And the merchants will be the same.” He stood and began to pace the room. “Now, they will be holding onto what they have, in case the situation gets worse. Supplies, food, goods, ducats—it would be impossible to get anything out of them, and many would turn you in for the reward. No… what we need to do is find someone wealthy and appeal to their innate greed, convince them that this will be over swiftly when the emperor retaliates, and they stand to be repaid tenfold, along with the emperor’s thanks. That should be enough of an incentive to reel someone in.”

“But, as you correctly stated, no noble or merchant would do such a thing as the situation stands,” Avigdor said, and Felice nodded in agreement.

“Then we need to find someone far more greedy than the average merchant.” Izak rubbed his hands together. “Someone with a lot of ducats and an eye for a good deal, and a reason to help us.”

Felice nodded slowly then frowned. “I can’t think of anyone that fits the description. Especially the part about having a reason to help us over the invaders. Most likely, everyone with ducats is sitting tight.”

“Ah,” exclaimed Izak with a smug smile. “But I have heard an interesting rumor from one of my friends. One of the largest merchants managed to spend a few days before the invasion transporting as much of their inventory as they could out of Anasoma, including their ducat reserves from their banking arm.”

“Who exactly are these merchants? They must have known what was coming, and I find that hard to believe.” Though it did make a certain kind of sense to her. Where ducats were to be made, there was always a merchant or bank willing to make a profit from someone else’s misfortune. That the Indryallans might have recruited some merchants to their cause was something they would have to consider.

“The Five Oceans Mercantile Concern,” said Izak.

Avigdor chimed in. “And they didn’t all leave with their goods. A couple of their offices remained open, though with a skeleton staff.”

Felice ran a hand through her oily hair. It really needed a wash. “Suspicious activity, though. If they knew the invasion was coming, then why leave? The Indryallans clearly aren’t targeting merchants and have left the city intact, with the people relatively unharmed. Wouldn’t they stand to make more by staying if they had forewarning? Perhaps they got wind of the invasion and fled, not knowing they wouldn’t be targeted.”

Felice sat back down on the bed, brow furrowed in thought. Izak opened his mouth to interrupt her but was silenced by a wave of Avigdor’s hand. They watched in silence as her mind examined the situation from every angle she could think of.

Foreknowledge of the invasion had obviously caused the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern to flee, but they’d left people behind. A skeleton staff to keep their offices open. Who would stay, knowing an invasion was imminent? A merchant would certainly make more ducats staying put and exploiting the situation if they knew the Indryallans hadn’t meant to harm the citizens. Which meant these particular merchants had known about the invasion, somehow, and had fled fearing… what? What did a merchant company have to fear? A loss of ducats?

She shook her head. Whatever it was, they were not friends with the Indryallans, far from it. And that was a possibility she couldn’t ignore. They needed all the allies and ducats they could get their hands on, while being careful not to get caught.

Eventually, she spoke. “We need to contact them, these merchants. And carefully.”

“I might point out,” continued Izak, “that we don’t know why they left or whether it has anything to do with the invasion.”

“It fits the facts,” replied Felicienne.

“As we know them,” added Avigdor. “But I agree; the pattern of their behavior doesn’t lead to many theories. Izak, you’ll have to trust us. These merchants knew about the invasion before it happened, and they didn’t want to be here when it did.”

“But…” stammered Izak. “How could they have known, unless they were allied with the Indryallans? I mean, you didn’t know.” He stopped, and his face went bright red. “No offense.”

Felice sighed. “Chances are, they aren’t allied with them. Which means they had a better information network than we did, which I doubt. Or they saw a pattern to certain events and deduced the invasion was coming, which again I doubt. That’s one thing we excel at, and we didn’t see it coming. So, they knew some other way.”

“How?” muttered Izak.

“Without information, our speculation is useless.” Avigdor spoke with nonchalance, meeting her eye and tilting his head toward Izak.

Felice knew he had followed her words closely and would have come to the same conclusion. “Izak, you’re going to have to contact them for us.” She smiled sweetly.

“Eh? Me? But—”

“Hush. You mingle in similar circles, and no doubt a few of your acquaintances have dealings with the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern. We already know a lot about them but we’ve obviously missed something important. Find out more, and then we can work on a letter of introduction that will pique their interest.”

“I, uh, by the ancestors…” Izak’s face had drained of blood. “What if they’re dangerous?”

“Hush. We can arrange to meet at a location where we can keep you safe and eavesdrop on the conversation. You’ll be protected. I promise.”

“How can you promise? If they think I know something about them they don’t want anyone else to know, I’m doomed!”

Felice scoffed. “A well-crafted letter to them, with what we know and a few hints at things we have surmised, and they will be more interested than anything else. Especially if they did flee the Indryallans for some reason.”

“If? I thought you were certain of it?”

“As certain as I can be.”

“But—”

“Enough, Izak, please. It’s a simple enough task. Find out more about this business, then we send them a letter to lure someone of importance to a meeting. Then we question them, and we have loads more information than we had before. See, simple.”

Izak swallowed then nodded slowly.

“Good,” continued Felice, rubbing her cheek. “Avigdor will contact you this time tomorrow, and you can pass along what you’ve learned. By then, I’ll have drafted the letter. We need to work quickly.”

Izak bowed toward Felice. “Farewell, then. Though I face great danger, I do so willingly, for you, my lady.” He held out a hand, which she ignored. Clearing his throat, he made a show of smoothing his goatee. “Ahem. Well, until tomorrow, then.”

Avigdor rose and clasped his hand, smiling warmly. A few hushed words were exchanged between them, then Izak left.

Avigdor relocked the door after him then approached Felice.

“So,” Avigdor said, “tomorrow afternoon I have Bees take charge of smuggling twenty of our men out of the city, then meet with Izak. What about the ducats Bees will need? The people he will be dealing with will expect payment up front.”

“Leave that to me. I’ll find something by tomorrow.” She’d salvaged a few personal items she could sell. It would keep them afloat for the time being.

With a concerned look, Avigdor raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

Felice looked around at the tasteless decorations a final time. “Avigdor, can you settle the bill for the room? I’ve got to get working on making some ducats, and on that letter.”

“I believe it’s customary for the man to pay in these situations.”

She gave him a tired look. “That’s not amusing.”

Chapter Six

Never before in his life had Amerdan had to endure such restraint. So close they were, Bells and Caldan, and yet something stopped him from acting: a tug, almost physical, when he reached for his knife. He couldn’t say what it was, what restrained him. Dotty the rag doll squirmed like a cat caught inside his shirt when it happened. Two sorcerers. Two talented sorcerers, and he couldn’t bring himself to absorb them… yet.

His head buzzed at the thought, and he licked his lips, almost salivating. It was too dangerous, he decided. That was what stayed his hand. At the thought, he gave a soft chuckle. Softly. Quietly in the night, he reminded himself.

Dangerous. He turned the word over in his mind. He was certain he could take them all. Caldan was the most dangerous. A quick thrust with his knife, and the young man would be down. Then the soldiers, followed by Elpidia. He’d be alone with Bells then.

Ah! She wouldn’t like that, not at all. And neither would he. There were two talented vessels for the taking, and the best plan he had was to only take one? No. That’s not right. Why take one when two was so much better.

And so he waited. And restrained himself. Night after night. Day after day.

Bees he’d had to let escape, though he could easily have tracked him down the night after he’d left and no one would be the wiser. But he needed someone to deliver his ducats to Zakarius to ensure Pieter and Annie were looked after, and for his sister’s treatment to continue.

Amerdan closed his eyes and leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, listening to the night, letting it flow around and through him. Crickets chirped. Small nocturnal animals rustled in the grass and leaves. Voices drifted from the campsite, mostly the crass Quivers, but fragments from Caldan and Elpidia as well. He’d left them some time ago, after they’d stopped for the night. He’d needed to get away.

Now he was alone, he could start to shed the skin he kept on in their presence. It chafed, a constant weight on his shoulders. At least in his shop he had some time when there were no customers and he could relax. Out here, with them constantly watching, he couldn’t let go. Couldn’t be himself.

Abruptly, he lurched to his feet and headed further away from the camp. Long grass brushed his pants and left them damp with evening dew. Animals and insects heard and felt him coming and froze or skittered away. But he saw them all. The night was bright to him, and had been for years. One of the vessels he’d absorbed had provided him with some surprising gifts. Or perhaps he’d been on the edge, and the woman’s talents had tipped him over it. No matter.

A faint light caught his eye, and he altered his path. It was far away but… too steady to be a campfire.

Is this what you are looking for? Is this what you need?

He increased his pace, pushing his way through thickets and around trees. A wide stream blocked his path, and he barely paused before wading in, boots held over his head. In the middle, it rose to his waist, and he scooped handfuls of cold water to quench his thirst. It tasted sweet but did nothing to sate him. He thirsted for something else.

He stopped among the stones on the other side and wrung his pants out, considering the spurts of water as they splashed onto the rocks. The wind picked up, began howling through swaying trees. Dust and leaves blew over him, and he blinked, turning his head from the breeze. He came across a narrow trail. It was well worn, leading to the stream, or from it.

Boots making barely a sound, he followed the dirt line toward the light. To either side of him, wild growth gave way to planted fields. As he closed the distance, the light resolved into two separate sources, both steady. Minutes later, he determined they were square, and he grinned. Windows, then.