Read The City of Towers: The Dreaming Dark - Book I Online
Authors: Keith Baker
“I’ve dealt with gnomes before,” Jode said. “Once I heard Alina was in Sharn, it was just a matter of dropping the right names, passing a few coins to the right people. Spend a few months in Zilargo, you’ll learn how it works. If you survive.”
“I didn’t know you’d been to Zilargo.” Daine had never seen the homeland of the gnomes.
“Scary place, my friend. Like a poisonous flower.”
The hallway was quite short, and within a few moments Daine came up against a stone wall. There was a loud
click
and the stone shifted forward, revealing the well lit chamber that lay beyond. Daine stepped through the doorway and stood up. The ceilings were just high enough for him to stand without crouching.
The room was an unusual sight. It was a square chamber, and each wall was about twenty feet long. A large, circular firepit dominated the center of the room, but instead of coals it was filled with amethyst crystals. Violet flames danced above the
pit, and a pleasant, flowery smell filled the air. An assortment of chairs and couches ringed the pit, and while most were sized for gnomes there were a few built to human scale. One divan seemed to have been designed for an ogre, though Daine couldn’t see how an ogre would fit through the entry hall. But the most disorienting aspect of the room was the mirrors. Three of the walls were entirely covered with mirrors, creating a dizzying sense of space. The fourth wall was a single window looking out off of the edge of the tower—a bird’s eye view of the Dagger River and the land surrounding Sharn, with only a window and a few wisps of cloud between them and the cliffs thousands of feet below.
There were no obvious doors, no shelves or chests. Aside from the chairs spread around the firepit, the only objects in the room were a set of intricate birdcages set against the wall across from the window. There were six cages, each made from half a dozen different precious metals woven together and studded with gems. As beautiful as the cages were, they were overshadowed by the exotic birds contained within. Daine had never seen their like. He was no druid, but he guessed that they were from lands beyond Khorvaire—the jungles of Aerenal, perhaps, or the distant plains of Sarlona. Curiously, the birds were completely silent; they watched the intruders carefully but didn’t make a sound or rustle a feather.
Then he realized. He could see the birds in the mirror, but …
“The mirrors … where are
our
reflections?”
“I don’t think they’re mirrors, Daine. If I recall correctly, we’re on the wrong side of the tower for a view of the Dagger.”
“Illusions?”
“That’s my guess. I’ll bet these images can be adjusted on demand.” Jode studied the window. “The real question is—is this actually what’s going on above the Dagger right now? Or is it all imagination?”
“That’s what keeps it interesting, isn’t it?”
It was a woman’s voice, low and rough, but with a lilting, lyrical cadence. It had been a long time since Daine had heard that voice, but it wasn’t something you forgot. Alina Lorridan
Lyrris was one of the most beautiful women Daine had ever seen—for all that she was only three feet tall. She was dressed in a diaphanous gown of white cloudsilk embroidered with intricate patterns of pure gold, which broke the light into thousands of shimmering shards as she moved. Her large violet eyes were a perfect match for the amethyst necklace. Her pale hair nearly matched the gold of her gown. It was split into dozens of braids, each bound with rings of silver and threaded into eyelets on the arms and back of her gown, creating a billowing golden cloak that shifted as she moved.
Daine hadn’t see her a moment before. Either she’d been invisible, or she’d walked out of one of the mirrors. He and Jode appeared to be alone with her, but he knew from experience that there must be bodyguards nearby. If Alina could arrive unseen, the guards might already be in the room. Were the walls even real?
Alina showed her perfect teeth in what most people would see as a smile. “Daine, how lovely to see you again. When I received Jode’s message … well, I never thought that our paths would cross again so soon.”
“Eight years is a long time, Alina.”
“I suppose it is … for you. Such a pity to fade so fast. Still, I was pleased to hear that you survived your service in the war, and the disaster that stole Cyre from us.” She walked over to the menagerie and looked down at the birds. “Can I get you anything? Water? Wine? Dreamlily? I have a fine Cyran vintage. It might be the last chance you have to taste it.”
“I swore I’d never drink with you again.”
“Suit yourself.” When Alina turned around there was a goblet of golden liquid in her hand. “You always drank too much anyway.”
She walked across the room and sprawled languidly on a velvet couch. The amethyst flames flickered, casting violet shadows across the room.
“After I heard about Jode, I did a little investigation of my own, and I must say, I was pleasantly surprised to find that you were accompanied by a young lady.” She gestured idly, and an image of Lei’s face shimmered into existence in the air
before her. “A dragonmark heir, no less. Coming full circle, Daine?”
“Leave her out of this, Alina!” said Daine, striding over to her seat.
“Are you certain about that, Daine?” Alina’s face was expressionless, but her eyes glittered in the firelight. “I understand that the young lady is in a difficult position at the moment. Perhaps—”
“I said, leave her out of this! You’re dealing with me.”
“So I am.” Alina closed her hand, and Lei’s face vanished. “And what is it you want, Daine? What do you have to offer?”
Jode stepped forward. “I’m sorry if I misled you, Lady Lyrris. We are seeking honest work, not some sort of gift or exchange. With the loss of Cyre, we must all find our way in this new world. A simple job, a chance to make a few sovereigns … you employ dozens of people, don’t you? Surely there’s something you could use us for.”
Alina laughed musically, sending a shiver down Daine’s spine. “Honest work? You’d make a fine fool, Jode.” She stared into the fire for a moment. “You must be truly desperate, to come to me for
honest
work. Yet …” She studied Daine carefully. “Perhaps there is something you can do for me. A servant of mine—a courier engaged in good,
honest
work—has gone missing. I believe that he has betrayed me and stolen my property. He wouldn’t be the first. Until I … sort things out, yes, I imagine that I could use a little outside assistance. If you reclaim what has been stolen from me, I should think a reward would be in order.”
Daine glanced at Jode. It sounded harmless enough. “What can you tell us, my lady?” Jode said.
Alina gestured at the wall. The image of a man appeared in the reflection of the room. Whether through coincidence or artifice, his location and posture mirrored than of Daine, and when Daine moved, the image duplicated his actions. Daine walked up to the wall to take a closer look at the stranger in the mirror.
“This is Rasial,” Alina said.
He was human, early twenties, with lank black hair that fell
to his shoulders and spread across his chin. Under the right circumstances, he might have been handsome, but his eyes were haunted and he had a hungry, desperate look. He wore dark cavalry leather and a short black cloak, and he held a dagger in his right hand.
“Rasial used to be a windchaser—an aerial racer—with a gifted touch for hippogriffs and daggerhawks. He stopped racing after a terrible accident, but he still had talent and ambition. I helped him get back on his feet, and in return he perform certain services for me—notably, bringing certain exotic goods to Sharn through the air. Recently, I paid him a great deal of money to bring a special package into the city. I know that he returned to Sharn yesterday, but I have not received my merchandise, and he has gone into hiding. There are many possibilities, but I suspect that Rasial’s greed finally outweighed his loyalty. As I said, it’s not the first time someone has taken advantage of my generous nature.”
“So you want us to hunt him down for you?” asked Daine.
“You wound me, Daine. I am not a vengeful woman. You’re still alive, aren’t you? I don’t care what becomes of Rasial, but I want what I paid for—the goods he was carrying, or at the very least the knowledge of who has them now. Deliver the shards, and I will pay you … say, three hundred dragons? That should be more than enough to get you established in Sharn or wherever you intend to settle.”
“Four hundred,” Jode said. “There are four of us.”
“You actually think of your warforged as an ally? I’ve always seen them as pets.”
“He’s right,” Daine said. “Four hundred.”
“Three and a half,” she said languidly. “Half the coin for half a man.”
“He’s worth more than I am, Alina.”
“What made you think I was talking about your warforged?”
“Four or not at all.”
“Oh, Daine,” Alina heaved a dramatic sigh. “Do you suppose I can simply conjure platinum coins from thin air?”
“Do you really want an answer?”
The gnome studied him solemnly and finally allowed a smile to cross her perfect features. “Very well. For old time’s sake. Four hundred it is.”
“So what are we looking for?”
“Khyber dragonshards,” Alina said. “A very rare form of Khyber shard, at that.” She waved a finger at the mirror, and the dagger in Rasial’s hand shifted into a shard of black crystal laced with purple veins. The veins were faintly luminescent. Every now and then, they would flare up with a brighter burst of light. “I could give you a tedious lecture about their origin and value, but I imagine that your lady friend can do that just as well as I can. I know Rasial hasn’t left the city yet. He may still have the shards, or he may have already sold them. In either case, finding Rasial is probably the best place to start.”
Daine studied his counterpart carefully. “Is he dangerous?”
“Who isn’t?” Alina lazily swirled her wine about in the goblet.
“How do you know he hasn’t left the city?”
“I have my ways.”
“Helpful as always. Is there anything in particular about him that we ought to know?”
“Now that you mention it … if you should cross blades, I suggest that you don’t let him touch you.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all you need to know.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” Daine turned away from the mirror. “Look, Alina, I’ll be the first to admit that we can use this money. But why are you doing this? You could hire a Tharashk inquisitive for a fraction of what you’re offering us. Are you telling me you can’t find him yourself?”
“Daine,” she said reproachfully, “you won’t take my gifts. Can’t I help out an old friend by giving him a simple job?”
“Your gifts are never free, and we were never friends. What’s your angle here?”
She laughed. “It seems ten years isn’t such a long time after all. You know me too well. You’re right. I have a reason for wanting to use you for this.”
“Fresh faces?” said Jode.
“Indeed. There is a delicate balance of power in this city. Rasial has friends. If he has betrayed me, there are people who can trace my usual sources. You’re outsiders. You can’t be immediately connected to me.” She smiled. “And if anything bad happens to you, what have I really lost?”
“Funny,” said Daine.
“Lady Lyrris,” Jode interjected. “I assume that time is of the essence. What can you tell us about Rasial or his associates? How many shards does he have? How large are they?”
Alina reached under the sofa and produced a small packet wrapped in black leather. “All of the details are here.” She tossed the packet to Daine and then produced a smaller purse. “Here’s a few sovereigns. It should be enough to get you started. Let me know if you need more. And now, if you don’t mind, I do have other business to attend to.”
She gestured toward the door, and it opened again.
“By the way, Daine?” she said as they were leaving.
“Yes?”
“If I were you, I’d buy a sword.”
I
f the dragonmarked houses held power to rival nations, then the district of Dragon Towers was where they maintained their embassies and consulates. Dozens of shops promised the mystical services of the true heirs of each house, and beyond these little businesses lay the enclaves of the houses themselves—massive towers where the heirs lived and learned their arts. The Great Healing Hall of House Jorasco was the largest to be found in Breland, and Sivis Tower was a nexus for communication across Khorvaire. The services of the dragonmarked were expensive, and the people who thronged the streets were not the peasants and beggars found on the lower level. Here aristocrats rubbed shoulders with knights and merchant princes. The street was a tapestry of colorful silk, and the air filled with the scents of rare perfumes and the exotic spices of the Ghallanda vendors.
Pierce and Lei made their way through this glorious chaos. Although the streets were crowded, most people made way for the warforged soldier. But even as Pierce scanned the streets for any possible threats, his thoughts were on the Lady Lei. Pierce had an intuitive understanding of combat. A shifting shadow, the glint of a blade, the smell of fire—he would know how to respond to such things. But he had no guidelines for the sorrow of a friend. It was not the first time he had seen pain or anger. He himself still felt the loss of each comrade who
had fallen in the war—a hollow emptiness when he envisioned the faces of Jholeg or Jani. But no one had ever taught him what to do with these feelings or how to address the sorrow of another. So he cleared the way for the Lady Lei and waited for her emptiness to pass on its own.