Darkvision (13 page)

The vengeance taker scanned the merchandise, then pointed. “Two of those,” he said in the common trade tongue.

The man nodded curtly. “That’ll be one pari, or equivalent in silver, if you please.”

Iahn made a show of getting out his pouch and counting out his foreign currency. As he did so, he asked the vendor, “I’m new to Vaelan. A fabulous city. And so strange. Why, my wife and I”—Ususi frowned at Iahn—”my wife and I just saw the oddest thing. A woman on the bridge back there was covered with purple crystal!”

The man’s face stretched into what was probably supposed to be a smile as he watched Iahn painstakingly fumble through his coins. The vengeance taker was putting on a show with a faked lack of dexterity.

The vendor said, “Yes, yes—a plangent.”

“A what?” demanded Ususi, moving forward.

“Plangent. Anyone who gets an implant at the Body Shop is called a plangent. If you had the coin to spare”—the man looked critically at the paltry heap of coins in Iahn’s hand— “then you could do the same.”

The vengeance taker handed the vendor three pieces of silver. As the man weighed them in his hand, Iahn asked, “Why would one want to replace his flesh with inanimate crystal?”

The baker shrugged. “They say plangents are smarter, faster, and stronger than regular folk. I’ve heard that plangents live longer. Not a bad deal. But it’s too expensive for people like you and me.” The vendor turned his head and fixed his eyes on new customers standing behind Ususi and Iahn. The vendor was finished with them.

Wizard and faker moved back from the stand, munching on their cakes. They were at least as good as they looked and smelled, Ususi decided.

“All right, then. Let’s go find the Body Shop,” said Ususi.

“First, allow me to fashion a disguise,” replied Iahn.

No placard proclaimed the shop’s name. Such advertising was not needed. The structure revealed its nature with a startlingly tall and slender sculpture that thrust up from the building’s center, reaching some seventy or eighty feet. The sculpture depicted a smoothly flowing human form with one hand reaching skyward in supplication. Portions of the gray stone sculpture had been seamlessly replaced with violet-tinged crystal—one arm, one leg, one eye.

The architecture of the building was modern and flowing and seemed part of the sculpture itself. The combination was graceful and moving, like a piece of art representing the struggles of mortals who always strive for personal redemption.

Iahn pointed to the crystal and looked at Ususi. The wizard glanced up and shook her head. She whispered, “That’s rose quartz, not Celestial Nadir crystal.” She strolled casually into the lobby of the Body Shop, with the vengeance taker only a stride behind. Ususi’s invisible uskura followed, silent and unknown to all but the two Deep Imaskari. Iahn had warned the wizard against calling upon it—doing so would only draw attention.

He and Ususi wore disguises created with Iahn’s expertise, which included small elements of magical glamour. Ususi was unused to wearing illusions, but Iahn had assured her that darkened skin, short hair, and flamboyant dress would fool the eye of any casual observer. Certainly his own long, ragged cloak, wide-brimmed hat, and scraggly, unkempt beard was good enough to baffle even Ususi’s eyes had she not seen him assume the guise.

Iahn was her servant, and she the lady of some great merchant house in nearby Assur.

The lobby was a study in smooth, flowing lines, longer than wide, like a great hall in a noble’s mansion. Six displays graced the two long walls, three on each side, guaranteed to draw the eye by the simple fact that nothing else was for sale, or even visible to distract attention. A woman waited, a smile on her face, on the far side of the room, beside a single white door. She was dressed elegantly, the lines of her gown plunging down her back. The color of the gown, a pale lavender, almost white, complemented the crystal encrustations of one arm, one leg, and one eye. The woman was a plangent.

“Welcome to the Body Shop, Madam,” she said, and flashed a winning smile.

Ususi nodded, but paused to gaze at each of the displays in turn. Iahn shuffled along behind, obedient, his head down, but not so much that he couldn’t eye the shop’s wares.

Each display was a human-size sculpture of an idealized human, gender unclear. Each sported a different Celestial Nadir crystal prosthesis. The two nearest the entrance had but one implant each—an eye and a hand. The two stone models in the middle of the rows each sported three artificial parts. The final two sculptures, closest to the plangent attendant, seemed more crystal than sculpture.

The attendant continued smiling, seeming perfectly at ease. Ususi coughed and said, “My friends have been telling me for months about the new look coming out of Vaelan. Before I arrived here, I thought they spoke of a new body paint, or piercing, or some combination of the two. But this is a little more extreme!” She waved her hands at the displays.

“Oh, it is more extreme, I can assure you, Madam… ?”

“Please call me Urale,” said Ususi. “This is my manservant, Alon.”

The plangent glanced at Iahn, dismissed him, and fixed her gaze upon Ususi, her smile growing broader and more friendly, if that were possible.

Iahn continued to stare at the plangent, his eyes missing nothing. He wondered if she would be vulnerable to a death stroke, with her new physiology. He shrugged and watched the woman breathe, noting the way her muscles gathered in her shoulders, legs, and back as she moved toward Ususi.

“Then please call me Tebora!” Tebora’s crystal eye flickered to life. Iahn, sensitive to flows of magic, felt his carefully crafted illusory guise waver under the arcane probe, but it held. He saw Ususi stiffen, then relax—Ususi was also sensitive to harsh emanations of magic.

Ususi cleared her throat. “Very well … Tebora. Now, please explain to me why I’d want to mar the flesh given me by my fair mother and lordly father by implanting gemstone piercings that are so … sizable?”

“The modifications we offer are more than fashion,” said Tebora. “They are an improvement. To accept Datharathi crystal is to simply become better!”

“Better?” Iahn detected the note of interest in Ususi’s voice—was it feigned or real?

Tebora moved closer, to the display nearest Ususi. “Oh, yes, Madam Urale! For instance, this configuration before you— it’s called ‘Strong and Tireless!’ And why is that? Because once you accept these Datharathi crystal substitutions”—she waved to the display where the sculpture’s left arm, right leg, and long strip down the back were artificial—”you’ll find yourself with the strength of several men, and with the vigor to hold your own against any normal person!”

“Really? That seems an extraordinary claim,” said Ususi.

“Oh, but why would I say so if it weren’t true? Perhaps you’d like a demonstration?”

“Maybe,” said Ususi, “First tell me—why do you call these crystals Datharathi?”

The woman laughed. “Do you jest? Surely you’ve heard of Datharathi Minerals, one of the most influential chakas in Vaelan?”

“Oh, of course I have—who hasn’t? But where do they mine the crystal?”

The woman paused as if considering the question, but Iahn tensed. Something moved behind that pause—he could feel its enmity. It wasn’t the saleswoman. Whatever it was, “it” gazed out at Urale and Alon for a moment through the woman’s one living and one crystal eye, then retreated, apparently satisfied.

Oblivious to whatever had just passed through her, Tebora said, “Who knows where the crystal is mined? Who cares? The raw crystal’s no good by itself, anyway—it must be custom cut and fitted by our trained staff here at the Body Shop to imbue its spectacular advantages. Raw Datharathi crystal is worthless. But maybe you’re looking for something other than our ‘Strong and Tireless’ configuration? How about ‘Quick and Vigorous?’ ‘Insightful and Spellstrong?’ ‘Pious and Healing?’ ‘Cerebral and Ki-strong?’ Or, how about the complete package—a whole-body prosthesis with every attribute we offer? Those are too expensive for any but our noblest, richest, highest-class patron—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sure I didn’t want to insult your means …” The woman trailed off with a long-practiced appraising tone in her voice.

Iahn was amused, seeing the art of the deal in action, but he didn’t betray his disguise. He was only a servant. Instead, he continued to watch the plangent, looking for her physical nexus, where one swift blow or slash would collapse her life. Because of all her crystal enhancements, locating her weak points was proving difficult, despite his expertise in detecting such things.

Ususi said, “I don’t think I can decide all at once! I mean, the choices! Plus, how do I know what you say is even true?”

Tebora sang out, “The customer asks for a demonstration! Hmm … why don’t I wrestle your manservant? That should prove something. Certainly a normal woman of my shape would be hard pressed to overcome a man accustomed to hard work?”

Iahn began, “Madam Urale, I don’t think …”

“Perfect. That, I’d like to see,” said Ususi. Iahn sighed. Ususi didn’t know his illusory guise might not hold up to rough physical contact. He shambled forward dejectedly, and said with a feigned accent, “What does the lady wish of me?”

“Fabulous!” The woman was obviously delighted to show off her plangent-granted prowess. “Face me. Each of us will attempt to throw the other to the ground. It should be fairly obvious … well, you’ll see!” The woman laughed.

Iahn stood before the plangent, waiting, watching, looking for the least weakness in the poise and posture of his enemy. Ususi said, “Go!”

The vengeance taker did not sinuously plant his palmed dagger in the woman’s kidney, nor did he smash her windpipe with his left elbow, twist her around to choke the blood supply between heart and head, or even sweep her legs from beneath her. He stood and waited for the woman to make the first attack.

The Body Shop attendant stood poised, unmoving. She, too, waited for her adversary’s opening.

“Come, sir! Don’t let your station keep you from it! Come at me! I assure you, I can take care of myself!”

“By the Voice!” muttered Iahn under his breath, but be nodded. He threw a purposely clumsy punch at the woman. As he expected, she ducked aside. And as he feared, she was impressively fast. As she moved, her artificial limbs lit with diffuse illumination.

Iahn moved to reset, and nearly cried out when the woman’s hand snaked forward to capture his retreating fist. So fast! But he was faster, if barely, and he resumed his guard.

The woman frowned. Iahn railed against his stupidity. It simply wasn’t like him to make such a mistake. He should have let Tebora grab him. He said, “My pa taught me something of boxing, Miss. He had it tough on the docks.”

Tebora chuckled, “Perfect!” and lunged for him. He resisted his reflex to roll away, and she had him. She squeezed him so hard he gasped, then she threw him to the floor. Only his training allowed him to take the fall without breaking an arm or his back. The woman apparently had little regard for others’ servants.

Tebora looked back at Ususi, Iahn stretched out at her feet. “See! Despite his boasts, I knocked him down easily, because I’m a plangent. You could be the same as me, or choose some other attribute mix. You could …” The woman’s voice trailed off as she gazed at Iahn gathering himself on the floor. The illusory facets of his disguise were boiling away like mist in the sun, leaving gaps and fissures through which his true appearance began to wink.

He had but a moment. If the presence he had seen outside the Imaskaran ruin lived in Datharathi crystal, then it probably also lived in the plangent. If the presence within her crystal limbs caught sight of his real shape, he feared every other plangent in Vaelan would also know a Deep Imaskari vengeance taker was in town. He thrust himself from the floor, his legs like great springs. As he rose, he cocked his left hand into a fist and delivered an uppercut, perfectly timed with the assumption of his full height.

The blow, which impacted perfectly on Tebora’s most vulnerable bone and nerve plexus, might have taken her head clean off if she were a normal, unenhanced woman. Against Tebora, it was merely sufficient. The saleswoman gasped at the impact, then slumped down, unconscious. The luminosity of the woman’s artificial limbs dimmed and went out.

“Well,” said Ususi, one hand fumbling inside her disguise, perhaps seeking her wand in a reaction too late in coming, “I… I’m relieved to see plangents are no match for a vengeance taker.”

Tebora’s limbs relit with an electric crackle, and lavender radiance started to pulse anew in the chamber.

“Go!” yelled Iahn. His disguise was in utter tatters.

Ususi went. He raced after her out the door and into the street. As soon as the door closed, they slowed to a regular gait, like others who walked nearby. Iahn surreptitiously stripped away the dregs of his ruined disguise. He followed Ususi, assuming a position as a bodyguard instead of a manservant, especially with his dragonfly blade once more in hand instead of strapped uncomfortably to his back.

“Where to?” the wizard asked him as she walked down the street.

The hairs on Iahn’s neck prickled—one of the protective enchantments he cast daily on himself was alerting him he was under unseen observation. The vengeance taker pointed toward the closest alley. He considered telling Ususi how foolish she’d been in agreeing to the saleswoman’s suggestion of a fight. But she was a wizard—she could figure it out on her own. The most important thing now was to deal with whomever was following them.

Ususi walked into the alley and Iahn ducked in after her. In Vaelan, alleys were usually small side streets, but in this case, Iahn and Ususi were granted a stroke of luck—the passage was so narrow that relatively little light illuminated it from above. Plus, the alley was jammed with enormous jars and vases belonging to a nearby retailer. He motioned Ususi to continue walking. She shrugged and acquiesced, moving ahead of him. Iahn secreted himself behind a large vat filled with white beans and waited.

Not ten heartbeats later, a shape with a hood drawn low over its face and a blue sash tied around its waist stepped around the corner and into the alley. As the spy passed Iahn, the taker grabbed the hood and pulled it back. “Hold, plangent!” he cried.