Hunting (34 page)

Lauren translated crisply. "Have you
seen anyone like that?"

"No," Larkin said, as Bitty said:
"Yes."

"A rich man," Bitty continued. "Came in
a few days ago. Didn't seem interested in what he bought. Did seem
interested in the back of the shop. I thought he might have been
one of Sonia's relatives."

Larkin was on his feet. "We've got
to–"

"Wait," Ash whispered, then added to
Telat: "
Can you
–"

"
Sera Telat, can you lead us to
where he took you?
" Lauren put in quietly.

Telat wavered, caught between
self-preservation and the important discovery of people who could
speak her language.

"We'll be going in numbers," Ash
managed to say, then gave up on talking in favour of finding bits
of paper she could write on. Lauren was more than capable, anyway,
and soon had established that the house was in the Rockways – a
part of the Commons northwest of Mids – and that Telat could
definitely remember the rough location, and probably identify the
exact house if she went there.

Even narrowing the search down to the
Rockways was more than enough information to warrant a response in
force, and by the time Ash had finished writing, Lauren had
succeeded in ensuring Telat would not bolt off into the night.
Probably.

It helped Ash enormously to have a
definite goal, to set out a plan of action and make arrangements.
It helped even more when Melar opted to stay, so she could allow
herself to be shooed off to sleep rather than be concerned with
keeping watch or herding Luinsel.

Curled on one of the mat piles, she
studied her hand, turning it so that she could glimpse the lines of
light below the skin. Ash still did not in any way regret marrying
Thornaster, but it had taken her less than half a day to nearly
kill him.

Had it been knowledge of the
consequences that had slowed her blow that evening? How could she
prevent herself from hesitating in future? She had as usual used
disabling rather than killing blows and, low as those two scuts had
been, she was still glad not to have their deaths weighing on
her.

Genevieve hadn't hesitated. She had
killed Eward Carlyon, and given Ash years of happiness free from
the threat he posed. Ash knew part of her reluctance to kill had
come from the ease with which Genevieve had done so – and much of
the rest from the horror of damnation, hanging for so many years
over her guardian's head.

Sighing, Ash tried to dismiss thoughts
of death altogether, and think back instead to taking Thornaster's
clothes off, and the heady sensation that had come from kissing
him. But her throat was in no condition to be easily forgotten.

So much for her wedding day.

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Any better?"

Ash, sitting on the broad stone wall
surrounding the Mids Watch House, turned in slight surprise to
Lauren. It was the first non-essential word he'd offered her since
the well.

"Better in that I'm at least half
audible. It was hard to sleep. You seem...more centred today."

"I suppose you could say events have
overtaken my self-pity."

"Ha." Ash shifted on the wall, checking
that none of the rest of her group had strayed from the shelter of
a nearby roof during the wait for the Guard. "For what it's worth,
I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was when we were talking."

"Sun, I'm not. I don't think I could
have–" Lauren took a slow breath. "I'm taking a lesson from that
Firuvari child. Wearing rags, starving, and yet still the heir to
one of Firuvar's great houses. She knows who she is, unequivocally,
despite all evidence to the contrary. Surely I can still be Lauren,
no matter who my father might be."

He didn't quite sound like he believed
it, but Ash let that pass. "It's a lot easier to be positive when
you're not stuck down a well in the dark."

"How is it you are still alive?" he
asked, the words careful. "There was a body in that fire."

"Yes, and I'd love to know how anyone
could believe a leg of pork was me, once they'd put the fire
out."

"What?!"

"I thought it a delaying tactic at the
time. It occurs to me that someone might have intervened for me –
saw that it wasn't a human body but told my father it was me
because they disapproved of what had happened. Or maybe they were
just really stupid. Who knows?"

His mouth worked, but he couldn't quite
find the situation funny. Ash looked him over, knowing she couldn't
just fix him, but always ready with helpful suggestions.

"The other day I asked Investigator
Verel why she stayed in Montmoth, despite having to work twice as
hard for half the respect. She told me it was for the money, which
is reason enough I guess. But why do you stay around being the
Black Carlyon's son?"

"I don't know that hiding from myself
is a better solution."

"Who said anything about hiding?
'Carlyon' is just a name anywhere but Montmoth. Go to this
Collegium place in Aremal – I'm sure they can produce endless
lectures on sewers too."

This produced a small cough of
laughter, but then a thoughtful pause. "It would be something to
see your – your husband compete seriously. If, that is, I can ever
adjust to the idea of him being your husband."

"You and me both." She slid off the
wall. "They're nearly here."

"I don't see them."

"No." Ash lifted her hand, considering
the gleam of criss-crossing lines. "I think I can tell where he is,
now that he's closer."

She turned and gestured to Sim and
Melar to bring Telat down. Being 'prentices, most of the Huntsmen
had a great deal of difficulty taking unexpected days off, and she
had refused to allow the bulk of them to risk their positions,
knowing she could divide her reduced numbers between guarding Heran
back at headquarters and providing an escort for Telat because the
Guard would supply the lack.

Farpatten had delivered beyond
anticipation, supplementing his Guardsmen with troops from
Montmoth's small army. After the previous day's ambush, he had
clearly decided there was little advantage in trying to get about
quietly. They were all mounted, and the noise of so many horses
drew the residents from their breakfasts to stare, and Captain
Garton out of the Watch House for a brief reunion. But then
Thornaster was there, riding double with Bitty and leading an
out-of-temper Cloud Cat, highly unimpressed by Larkin's efforts to
stay on her back.

Because this was not an occasion to hug
her new husband, Ash wrapped her arms briefly around the mare's
neck instead. Thornaster's gaze fixed inevitably on her livid
throat, but all he said was: "The rest of your knives are in her
saddlebags."

"The Veirhoi?" Farpatten asked.

"Safe. Guarded." Lauren accepted the
reins of his blood bay from the Guardsman. "This is Sera Telat deas
Docent.
Will you take us there now, Sera?
"

Telat nodded once, firming her jaw, but
then eagerly scrambled onto the blood bay's back. Horses made up
for a great many trials.

Farpatten wasted no time – perhaps
hoping to regain through speed what they lost to noise. With a
grand clatter of hoofs, they headed to the Rockways at a brisk
trot, Ash's Huntsmen doubling with several of the Guard, and
Captain Garton hurrying to collect and meet them with a Watchman
from the Rockways District.

There was no difficulty at all in
locating the place. Thornaster reacted before they even reached the
street, and Ash – another side effect of the soul bond? – was
shivering by the time their target came into sight.

An unremarkable house. It even reminded
Daere a little of Genevieve's – a single-level construction of wood
with a fenced-off garden. There were peach trees. Windows
shuttered, no smoke rising from the chimney, nor any hint of
activity.

They paused several houses away to
dismount and break into groups. A half-dozen quickly circled to the
back to watch for anyone trying to flee, and a handful more spread
among the neighbouring buildings, knocking on doors. While
Farpatten and Thornaster conferred, Ash gestured to her Huntsmen,
and gathered them well back with those assigned to looking after
the horses, seeing no advantage in tangling with the initial rush.
Lauren brought Telat to join them.

"Odd."

Ash, retrieving her spare knives,
glanced up at Melar. "What?"

"If this circus turned up in Mids,
there'd be doors wide, heads out every window, curtains twitching.
This place has only a few passers-by. It's like all the houses are
abandoned."

"No, there's someone," Larkin said, as
one of the doors a Guard was knocking on was opened by a frazzled
man in a nightrobe.

Frowning, Ash passed Cloud Cat's reins
to Melar, and crossed to stand at Thornaster's elbow as the
Guardsman returned to Farpatten.

"It's been empty this past year,
Captain, after the merchant who owned it died. The Landhold there
thinks there's been someone coming and going since last autumn,
tidying the garden and keeping the building maintained, but not
daily. We're sending for details of the new owner."

"Take care – if the description matches
our 'Cold Man', do not approach."

"They're sick," Ash said, peering about
at the slow responses to other knocking Guards. "Everyone in these
houses – they're all sick."

Farpatten looked at her, then
Thornaster. "Odds are good this isn't where the Vicardies are
hiding, that there mightn't be anyone here at all. Any objections
to going in?"

It was rare to see Thornaster hesitate.
Ash couldn't be certain what the building felt like to him, but the
closer she came to it, the more she became aware of an icy pulse,
like a deep-set toothache. Farpatten seemed to feel it too, but
most of those around them were merely wary, not oppressed by that
relentless throbbing.

"I'll take point," Thornaster said at
last. "I don't think there's anyone in there, but the place itself
is inimical. Bring a small group." He glanced at Ash. "Stay close
behind me."

As they broke down the door, Ash
wondered at herself, because even though she'd replaced her knives
she hadn't been planning to go inside, and that again was unlike
her. Though perhaps a natural reaction to the place, where even the
most stolid of the Guards flinched as they crossed the threshold.
Breath misting, they crowded into a bare kitchen, seeing nothing
but empty rooms and gloom.

"Take down the shutters. Don't touch
anything else." Thornaster, hand on the hilt of his rapier, padded
forward, and Ash followed, ready to protect his back, keeping the
possibility of invisible people firmly in mind.

"Frost on this door," one of the Guard
said.

Thornaster drew his rapier and used the
tip to prod the door open, revealing stairs descending into
blackness. The Guard was sent for a lantern, Farpatten began a soft
murmur intended to make his hand glow blue, and Ash, shivering,
stood a little closer to Thornaster, who was by far the warmest
thing in the building.

"You're going to be useful in winter,"
she murmured.

His frown eased, and he ruffled her
hair, and then grinned when she pulled a face. "Was it your unique
diplomacy which led to the strangulation?"

Ash blinked. "Talking may have been the
better option," she said. "Need to act outran me, I think."

She slid her hand into his, which
brought an entirely different expression to his face and she
smiled, feeling much warmer, and then let go as the Guardsman
returned.

They moved in a tight cluster down to a
large, square cellar. The walls were crusted with flowers of frost,
and icicles speared from the ceiling. At first Ash thought it
otherwise completely empty, but then she realised Thornaster had
stopped several stairs from the bottom, and that the lower steps
were covered by what she had thought to be the floor. Deep blue and
viscous, it...rippled.

"There's another well under that,"
Farpatten said, through chattering teeth. "See – you can just make
out the circle of the well cover."

Behind him, the lantern swayed.

"Back up," Thornaster said sharply, and
more or less hauled the Guardsman away from the cellar. He didn't
stop at the top of the stair, but looked around and led them
through the now-open back door into the walled rear garden,
ordering the other Guards out as he did so.

It was still unnaturally cold there,
but nowhere near as bad as indoors. The Guardsman dropped his
lantern and collapsed to his knees, shuddering, while Ash found the
warmest spot of sunlight she could and stood with hands in armpits
near some rows of chest-high plants. Even Farpatten sat down, stone
face cracking in favour of open shock. But only for a few deep
breaths, and then he climbed back to his feet.

"If you have recommendations I'd be
glad to hear them. I've not seen anything remotely like that
before."

"Nor I," Thornaster replied, less than
happily. "Though I can guess at what it is, since it began to
function on your man here, drawing his life out. It's the
soul-stuff of sacrifices, shaped to become the vehicle of
sacrifice. The souls it draws will be delivered up to Karaelsur.
And it's sitting over a
well.
"

"What can we do?"

"Take the roof off and rip up the main
level's floor, to begin with. Expose it to sunlight. After that–"
Thornaster looked back into the now-empty building. "It's vastly
more powerful than I am," he said, bluntly. "And I doubt setting a
bonfire on top of it will do more than risk damaging the well
cover. Finding the instigator, whoever created this, may be the way
forward."

"We're having the owner of record
traced. And there's this Firuvari witness – if I could have your
assistance interviewing her, Ser Visel? We may get a better
description."