The City of Pillars (5 page)

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Authors: Joshua P. Simon

Tags: #Fantasy, #Epic, #Fiction

BOOK: The City of Pillars
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Stronger than I thought.

She recovered quickly, clenched her jaw, and ran forward again, leading this time with her shoulder. The door gave way, slapping against the inside wall. Three young children stared wide-eyed while a mother screamed in fright and ran over to protect them. The man of the house opened his mouth, looking irate at their intrusion. He never got out a word as Andrasta shoved him aside and darted through the small apartment. She heard Rondel come in behind her, apologizing for the door.

After several swift turns, they exited into another alley. She attacked another door. Thankfully, it gave on the first try.

She crossed four streets in this manner before doubling back two. She felt a slight tug in her mind with each decision she attributed to instinct as if something nudged her along. They ran up half a block and repeated the pattern again.

By the end of it all, her leg and shoulder ached to the point that she began to favor that side of her body. She still heard men running through adjacent alleys behind them, but they had at least lost those on the rooftops.

A dozen men carrying swords appeared half a block ahead. She tightened the grip on her pommel.

How did they get ahead of us again? Sorcery?

Rondel called from behind. “Gods, did the watch go on a hiring spree? We can’t fight them all, Andrasta. Especially with more behind us.”

She grit her teeth.
He’s right.

A sudden urge overwhelmed her, stronger than the directional tugs as she chose their route. She veered sharply to the left down an alley so tight she had to practically run sideways to squeeze through it.

I’m going to kill Kamal and Wabu.

Two guards appeared at the mouth of the alley. They carried bows and wore knowing grins. One yelled. “Stop!”

The smiles on the archers’ faces turned to surprise as she sped up, raising her sword.

“Loose!” one yelled.

Two arrows flitted down the narrow space. The first Andrasta timed perfectly and deflected. The other skidded against the wall, ricocheted, and struck her just above the collar bone in a space her armor did not protect. It broke the skin not far from the recovering wound she gained at the library. She yelled and stumbled for a moment before pushing forward. The two archers fumbled with their next arrows, faces masked in fear.

They turned to run as she reached the alley mouth. She slashed the first across the back. He fell screaming. The second sped away.

Blood trickled down her shoulder and chest. She threw the other sack of food she had grabbed in the market back to Rondel. With a free hand, she felt the wound. Though it bled, the momentum of the arrow had been affected by striking the wall. It hadn’t gone deep. She yanked it free and pressed her palm against the hole.

“Can you continue?”

“Don’t have much of a choice,” she said, moving again.

Andrasta stopped before another door, ready to kick it in when a woman’s voice called two apartments down. “Wait! Please.”

The “please” gave her pause.

A petite figure stood in an open doorway. As with all Erban women who appeared in public, she wore an abayah, a long black robe that fell to her feet. A black scarf and veil concealed her hair and face, leaving only her eyes exposed. She raised a hand and gestured them forward. “Hurry. They’ll be around the corner any moment.”

Shouts and heavy footsteps rang out.

“We’re running out of options, and they’re closing fast,” said Rondel.

Andrasta frowned at the woman’s act of kindness, but decided that even if she ended up leading them into a trap, the risk was worth it.

Andrasta ran to the open door and darted inside. The door closed after Rondel.

She immediately looked for an exit. They had to keep moving.

Andrasta froze as a loud thud sounded behind her. She wheeled, noticing strange designs glowing on the walls in colors of blue and purple. The woman stood over an unconscious Rondel. Rage coursed through Andrasta’s body. She raised her sword to strike the woman, but dizziness washed over her. She swayed.

“Sleep. It will all be over soon,” said the woman in a calm, even tone.

Andrasta dropped to her knees, then to her side. Her sword slipped from her grasp. She fought to keep her eyes open. She moved her mouth to curse the woman, but it would not respond.

The woman knelt beside her. “So strong. Just as the stories say.”

The woman removed her veil, revealing a young, smooth face, petite nose, and thin lips that parted into a gentle smile.

Even if Andrasta hadn’t already suspected the woman was trying to kill them, she was certain she would have hated her anyway.

 

CHAPTER 4

“Are you sure?” Melek asked, staring into Khalil’s eyes, hoping he might see doubt hidden between the wrinkles surrounding them. Old as those eyes may be, they held a youthful strength that gave the captain his answer before the sorcerer responded.

“Positive.”

“How can this be?”

“I told you no sorcery is guaranteed.”

“I understand that, but to not even be able to locate the ghul. Not even know whether it’s alive or dead. . . .”

“It’s most likely dead. I can’t even pick up a trace of its presence.”

“So it entered Zafar a week ago. You caught faint glimpses of it here and there for a few days, probably as it searched for her. But now, nothing.”

Khalil nodded. “Three divinings all brought the same result.”

“She shouldn’t have the power necessary to kill a ghul yet. We aren’t that close to the heavens’ alignment.”

“It could have been someone else.” Khalil stroked his chin, thinking. He was obviously confused by the turn of events. “There are others in the city who are capable enough sorcerers.”

“Capable. But not more skilled than you. It had to be her.”

Melek rubbed his temples between forefinger and thumb. His gamble had failed, a gamble he had hoped would rectify the past mistakes of Hubul’s Host, including his own, while also eliminating the need to place his men at risk.

“Shall I summon another one?” asked Khalil.

Melek shook his head. “No. If she did defeat the first one, then she’ll have no problem with another.”

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

Melek snorted. “It’s not your failure. The order had been mine.” He paused. “Tell me some good news.”

“She’s still in Zafar.”

“You know this for sure?”

“Yes. She performed a divining to locate us. Probably to make sure we weren’t headed to the Empty-Hand Desert yet. Each time she locates us, it leaves a temporary path that leads back to her.”

“Good.”

“She’s protected herself well,” Khalil said. “The wards around her are strong, more than they have a right to be. Either she’s grown more formidable as of late or she’s finally starting to expose her true power. Maybe she’s desperate and is no longer holding back. Perhaps you are right about her killing the ghul.”

“Regardless, she’ll only grow stronger in the coming weeks.”

“Should we set up an ambush for her outside Zafar?”

Melek began pacing the tent. “If it wasn’t so close to the alignment, I’d say yes. We could afford to take losses then and still have enough men to protect the Mask of Halves and carry out Hubul’s will. But now, we have no way of knowing what creatures she may have already gathered. She’ll expect that we’ll attack near the city, especially since we sent the ghul. We have to be careful.”

She is the only thing in the way of my success. To prove that I deserved this hallowed position.
He sighed. “For now, just keep an eye on her.”

“Too bad the alignments are so far apart. Otherwise, I might suggest we hide and wait.”

Melek snorted. “Five hundred years would be a long wait.” He paused. “No, Khalil. Even waiting five years would be a risk at this point. The Host is not as strong as it once was.”

No land. No wives or children. No family but the Host itself.
So few want to dedicate their lives to that.

But we have, and we cannot fail.

 

CHAPTER 5

Andrasta woke with a buzzing in her ears, as if a fly had decided to take up residence inside her skull. She reached up to swat at the noise, but her arm flopped out to the side as though she had no control over it.

Her eyes fluttered open, vision blurring in and out to the buzzing. She blinked and the blotches around her vision came into focus.

Wood for a fire. Pillows to sit on. Sacks of clothes.
She squinted, certain her eyes played tricks on her as strange, soft, blue patterns of light winked in and out along the walls and ceiling of the room.

She grunted and flipped over to her other side, dizzy from the strain. It took a moment for her vision to regain focus but when it did, two blotches sat in chairs at a nearby table. The buzzing in her ears faded.

“You are a masterful storyteller, Rondel,” said a familiar voice.

The whore who knocked us out.

“Thank you. My former life as a minstrel trained me well.”

“Well, it shows. Hearing your tales brings back memories I haven’t thought about in a very long time, memories I forgot even existed.”

“You make it sound like you’re ancient.”

She chuckled. “I’m older than you think.”

“Well, you definitely don’t look it.” He paused. “I’d love to hear some of those memories from your youth, though.”

“Perhaps another time. They are nice to recall but, I have a feeling they’d be too painful to discuss. My life since then has been a hard one.”

“I understand. Whenever you’re ready to talk about them, know that I’m a good listener.”

“Thank you.”

Andrasta wondered why he spoke so casually with the stranger when it had been obvious the woman used sorcery on them. She could only think of two reasons.

Either she’s still using sorcery, or Rondel fell for her
other
charms.

She pushed off the ground, rising slowly on shaky limbs.

“Andrasta, you’re up,” Rondel said.

Idiot. I was hoping to sneak up on her.

Hands clasped her arms. Rondel’s first, then the woman’s. She shrugged away from the latter while trying to growl a curse. She choked instead, her mouth feeling like a dry pillow.

“I’ll get some water,” said the woman.

“Take it easy,” Rondel said, sitting her up. He pressed a cup against her lips. “Drink.” She hesitated. “It’s fine. Just water. I promise.”

In normal circumstances, Andrasta would have resisted the offer, but weakened, she didn’t see the point. Sorcery or not, if the woman had wanted her dead, she wouldn’t be debating whether to even accept a drink.

She drank greedily, ashamed at how much she enjoyed the cool liquid washing down her throat. She breathed deeply afterward, and Rondel handed her another full cup which she consumed slower.

The woman brought bread and more water. Before taking a bite, Andrasta studied Rondel. He didn’t seem to be under any spell. In fact, he looked healthier, even happy.

No obvious sign of sorcery.
She swore beneath her breath while glancing up at the woman.

“All right.” Andrasta cleared her throat. “Tell me.”

* * *

Rondel knew well the look Andrasta wore. It was one of suspicion, distrust, and anger. She wore those emotions as naturally as she did a sword.

He’d need to be careful what he told her and how he told it. “This is Shadya. It means—”

“I don’t care what it means,” she croaked. “I care that she used sorcery on us. Why do I feel so groggy?” She bit off a hunk of bread and chewed it forcefully.

“You’re weak because you’ve been out for two days.”

“What?” She turned to Shadya. “What did you do to me, you—”

“Stop!” said Rondel. “Wait until I’m done to ask your questions. Eat and listen.”

Andrasta glared. Rondel suppressed a shiver. Partners and friends they might be, but even
he
had to watch how he spoke to the woman.

“Let me back up. Shadya is a warder. It’s a form of sorcery common in this part of Untan. The etchings in the museum were created by people with a similar talent.” He gestured. “It’s why the walls are blinking. All those symbols serve a function. She used the power from them to knock us out so that we would stay with her and not venture back out into the open where the watch would find us. I woke up yesterday after she had healed my scrapes and bruises.” Andrasta shot each of them looks. “She explained everything to me then. You’ve been out longer because your wounds from the arrows were more severe. The wards she painted on them have mostly faded and the wounds are healed. How do they feel?”

Andrasta touched her neck and shoulder, scowled, then shrugged.

He sighed. “Good enough, I guess. While you’ve been recovering, she’s been using the wards on the walls of her apartment to confuse the watch and keep us hidden.”

“Why?”

“Would you believe she thinks we’re innocent?”

Her response was what he expected, another glare.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Please allow me to take it from here, Rondel.”

He looked at the soft features of Shadya’s round face and smiled. “Please.”

She stepped forward. “I actually do believe you and your partner are innocent. This city is not known for its kindness to foreigners. However, my motives for helping you are not unselfish. And you running down the alley that led you here was not entirely coincidence.”

“You compelled us here?” asked Andrasta.

“Yes. You may have felt a slight tug as you fled. Then a stronger pull at the end?”

Andrasta nodded, her scowl deepening.

“That was my doing. Once word reached me that you were in the area running from the watch, I did everything in my power to get you here. I had been trying to contact you prior to the incident at the museum without success. After the museum, finding you was a losing effort. With a lot of luck and the wards in the apartment, I was able to arrange a meeting. I’d like to hire you.”

Andrasta took a deep breath. “Taking any job in Zafar right now would be a waste of time for everyone.”

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