Path of Bones (18 page)

Dane eyed the Blood Knights suspiciously.

“In,” Chairos said, impatiently this time.  “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing there.  We’ll discuss recompense for my slain men later.”

Dane still expected the Blood Knights to skewer him as he stepped inside, but to his relief they let him pass and closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with Chairos…or so he thought.  It took him a moment to notice the woman in the corner. 

The Blood Knight’s armor was darker, enameled black and red like a charred corpse.  Her thick black hair was perfectly straight and pulled up tight, and she held the shaft of her
kan’aar
down below her waist.   Her mask was different from the others, form-fitted and textured so it actually resembled a crude woman’s face. 

Dane stood there, watching them. 

“I hope you have something useful for me,” Chairos said.  “Blood Knights don’t come cheap.”

“
Then they should be more careful,” Dane said.

“
Yes,” Chairos said with a smile.  “That they should.”  Chairos motioned Dane to sit in the chair opposite him.  Dane was hesitant – that would put the Blood Knight woman at his back – but, as Chairos had pointed out, they could have killed him already if they’d really wanted to, so he sat.  He felt the woman’s ghost-like eyes on him.

“
Krannish
?” Chairos asked.  He filled two glasses with thick crimson liquid poured from a small bottle.  “It’s a rarity in these parts.  Expensive, but quite good.”  He offered Dane a glass.

“
Thank you.”  The liquor was sweet and sharp.

“
Well, now that the pleasantries are done with...” Chairos said.  His Den’nari accent was barely perceptible, bespeaking of a rich upbringing.  “Let’s get down to business.”

“
I take it you don’t plan to dismiss your bodyguard?” Dane asked with an eye towards the woman.  “Sorry about your friends,” Dane said to her.

Chairos smiled smugly. 

“She doesn’t speak,” he said.  “She
can’t
.  Drakanna is bound to serve me, and I’d rather she just do her job and keep quiet about it. 
I’m
the one you should be worried about.”  He fixed Dane with a cold glare.  “Make no mistake, my friend – I’m not a patient man.  Drakanna angered me once, and she’ll be paying for it for the rest of her life.  Losing her tongue was lucky on her part.  Crossing me generally carries a much more severe penalty.”  He took a drink.  Dane felt Chairos’ Veilcraft in the air.  The man had so many magical safeguards in place he probably could have detonated half of the building had he felt so inclined.  “The best part is,” Chairos said with a quiet laugh, “she’s
thankful
to be serving me.  Isn’t that something?  She actually thanked me when I told her I’d be pulling her tongue out myself.  She knew it was the least she deserved, letting another man touch her.”  He leaned in close and spoke slowly.  “I don’t care that you just killed two of my men to show me how dangerous you are, because contrary to what you might think you’re nowhere near as deadly as
I
am.  I’m not bothering to take your weapon away, because it won’t do you any good.  If I don’t like what you have to tell me, or if you annoy me, or if I just decide I don’t like your face...well, you’ll experience pain and suffering the likes of which you couldn’t even begin to imagine.  You’ll
beg
me to let you die.”  He sat back, smiling ear to ear, and poured himself another glass.  “So…tell me about the Dream Witch.”

Dane sat, watching him.  He’d rehearsed his story a dozen times, but now that he’d spoken with Chairos he knew had to be careful.  The man was arrogant, but he was also powerful, and if he doubted Dane’s story things could get ugly fast. 

Real fast.

“
What I have to say isn’t about her directly,” Dane said.  “But it concerns her.”

“
In what way?” Chairos asked.

Dane set his
vra’taar
on the table.  The blade was still bloody from the brief skirmish in the hall, but even dirtied by grime and gore the weapon was resplendent, and both the primary and hilt blades shone in the lamplight. 

“
My name is Azander Dane,” he said.  “Until recently I was hunting Ijanna Taivorkan on behalf of the Black Guild.  As I’m sure you know by now there isn’t exactly much of a Black Guild
left
, so I’ve terminated that contract.”

“
I see,” Chairos said with a carefully controlled smiled.  “And now you’d like to work for the Phage?”

“
Something like that,” Dane said.  “Truth is, I couldn’t find Ijanna right now even if I wanted to, but I think we can help each other.”

“
Do tell,” Chairos said.  “I can’t wait for this little story to finally come to a point.”

“
Ijanna no longer has the
thar’koon,
” Dane said.  “I want the man who does.  In exchange for your help, I’ll see that you get the blades so you can find her on your own.”

“
What are you talking about?” Chairos said quietly.  “Is Ijanna alive?”

“
I don’t know,” Dane lied.  “And I don’t care.  Like I said, she’s not what I’m here for.  I want the man who stole the
thar’koon
from the Jlantrians, the man who made it so your people couldn’t trade for them.” 
Goddess, Kleiderhorn, I hope you told me the truth about all of this, or else this bastard is going to flay me. 
According to Bordrec, the Phage had never learned who’d actually gotten their hands on the blades; if they had, Harrick wouldn’t have taken the bait and tried to seize the false swords from Black Sun and gotten the entire Ebonmark cell killed.  Dane was counting on the fact that by now word would have spread that the
thar’koon
had never been in Black Sun to begin with, and based on Chairos’ expression that seemed to be the case.  “The thief is somehow shielded from
cher’nag
, but the
thar’koon
aren’t.  Unfortunately, since I’ve never seen or held the swords, there’s only so much I can do to track them.”

Chairos sat back, considering. 

“So what it is you want from me?”

“
My proposal is this,” Dane said. 
Here we go. 
“I know you can use the
thar’koon
to track Ijanna.  Like I said, she’s no longer my concern, and since she’s brought me nothing but trouble I’ll leave her to you.  I
do
, however, want the man who took those blades.  If not for his shielding I could track him myself.  I can, however, still track something in his possession…if I know enough about it.  And that’s where you come in.”

Chairos watched Dane with skepticism.  He looked at Drakanna, and they seemed to communicate through their eyes. 

“What do you need?” he finally asked.

“
As much information as you can possibly give me about the
thar’koon
,” Dane said.  “What they look like – an illustration or a diagram would suffice – as well as anything you can tell me about their origin: who made them, where, when, even the type of steel or Veilcraft involved.  The more you can give me, the easier it will be for me to find them.”

Chairos nodded. 

“I know of
cher’nag
, but I must honestly say I’m surprised to see one of you Dawn Knights walking around, considering the way your own countrymen hunted you down.”  Chairos took a drink and tapped his ringed fingers against the glass.  “I know at least part of what you’re telling me is true.  But only
part
.  I can smell lies, Dane, and you reek.  If I give you this information, what would keep you from taking the
thar’koon
for yourself?  Maybe you’re still working for the Iron Count.  Maybe you’re trying to find Ijanna…she, too, can magically shield herself, probably better than this imaginary individual you say you’re hunting.  Maybe you plan to sell the blades back to
us
.”

“
Look,” Dane said coldly.  “I don’t care about you or Chorg’s obsession with the Dream Witch.  I intend to find those blades, and right now this is the easiest way for me to do it.  You can benefit from this, because in exchange for giving me the information about the weapons I’ll hand them over to you once I have the man who took them.  Or you can let this opportunity pass you by.  Goddess knows, you and yours have had tremendous success hunting the Dream Witch on your own…”

Dane made to leave.  To his great pleasure he saw a spark of doubt cross Chairos’ otherwise stony face.

“Wait,” the criminal said.  He looked at Dane, then down at the chair.  Dane smiled and sat.  Chairos considered him with steely and penetrating eyes as his magic slithered across Dane’s skin like oil and ice.  “We’ll give you what you want,” he said, and he smiled.  “I don’t trust you one bit, but you have it right – we need those blades.  And you seem to be our best chance of finding them.”  He nodded at Drakanna.  “She’ll give you the information you need and make sure you behave.  Understood?”

Dane smiled. 

“Understood.” 

Bloodstains marred the floor where he’d felled the two Blood Knights.  Drakanna walked briskly, her armor creaking as she sauntered down the hall with Dane in tow.  They came back out to the main ledge and the bar; Dane saw Mirren in the distance and nodded, and she smiled at him.  The smell of alcohol and sex filled the air like a fog, and the sound of drums and tribal chants hammered against his temples.

The lady Blood Knight turned the corner and led him down another hall.  Dane pushed past patrons with their eyes locked on the girls in the dancing pit below.  Another Blood Knight stood vigil outside a small black door with cold hinges of Veilcrafted iron; Dane could practically taste the smelted arcana in the magical lock.  Drakanna led him through the door and down a steep flight of curving stairs to a hallway of black and mortared stone lit by candles set high on the walls.  The air smelled of soot and dust, and cobwebs stretched across the ceiling. 

They passed a number of reinforced wooden doors.  Drakanna stopped at one that looked no different from the rest and showed Dane inside.  The room was a tiny lamp-lit library barely large enough to house two people.  Tall shelves lined with books covered three of the walls, and the spines of the tomes were so worn it was almost impossible to make out the titles, but Dane still recognized a few historical and arcane texts from his brief time spent in the Veil Academy back in Ral Tanneth. 

Dane set his
vra’taar
against the wall.  He gave Drakanna a questioning look, and the Blood Knight pointed to a scroll case on one of the shelves.  The black leather tube was capped with bone.  Dane picked it up as Drakanna shut the door, leaving him alone.

He let out a shudder.  The tension inside him had abated somewhat when he’d killed those two Blood Knights, but Dane’s nerves were still frayed, and his stomach burned with worry.  He was getting in deep, and if he didn’t play things just right both he and Kruje could wind up in a world of trouble.

Best to get what you need and get out of here.  Find Ijanna and give this Chairos bastard the slip. 

He uncorked the case and pulled out a number of wrinkled scrolls covered with diagrams and information regarding the
thar’koon’s
construction and origins.  Dane held the Veil at the edge of his thoughts and kept a wary eye on the door as he studied the documents, intent on committing every last detail to memory.  Given enough information he could use
cher’nag
to lead him straight to Ijanna, this time without any margin for error.

I hope you know what you’re doing
, he told himself with a shake of his head.  His thoughts went back to Mirren, and he wondered if he’d have enough time to enjoy her company before he and Kruje left Kaldrak Iyres for good. 

Get that out of your head
, he told himself. 
Focus on the task at hand. 
It wasn’t easy.  That hunger was coming back, and it grew more intense by the moment.  It took every ounce of concentration Dane had to study the contents of those scrolls.

Nineteen

Kruje was the king of his small domain.  For the first time in what felt like eons the giant was alone and undisturbed, with only the peace of his thoughts to keep him company.  No Maddox or his goons poking or prodding him, no gladiators, no gawking humans paying good money to watch as his blood was spilled. 

You got what you deserved, Maddox.  It’s just too bad it was Dane who got to kill you, and not me. 

Dane.  The Knight’s absence was welcome, if only because the giant had seen so much of the man over the course of the past week.  Kruje still wasn’t entirely sure why Dane had helped him, especially considering how humans felt about Voss.  All Kruje knew for certain was that Dane was different.  From what he’d gathered in their conversations – and communication was still difficult between them, even with Dane’s attempts to learn as much Vossian as possible – Dane had been hired by some criminals to hunt a woman, a Bloodspeaker, but now he didn’t want to do that anymore.  He still searched for her, but now he wanted to
protect
her.