The Inquisitives [4] The Darkwood Mask (39 page)

Soneste stepped out into the riverside wind, which soothed her mind even as it chilled her skin. The sun had already dropped below the cliffs, tingeing the sky violet in its wake. Thoughts of home returned. She couldn’t be farther from it now.

She looked down at the dreamlily in her palm, turning the vial over in her hands to watch the lustrous substance swirl. For her, dreamlily had tasted like the sweet redeye berry wine her father had shared with her on the last day she’d seen him alive.

The drug was an insidious substance, a nepenthe for forgetting. Soneste had used it herself on several occasions in the dream
parlors of Sharn and had purchased some to take with her. She’d told her friends that it was for research; if she was going to track down sellers of such contraband, she wanted to
know
their experience. She’d told herself the same thing. She did not tell them of how she’d like to forget the uglier sides of Sharn, to forget how much she missed her father or neglected her mother. It was just one small secret in a city built on them.

The hatch opened behind her. She slipped the dreamlily back into her pocket as Tallis joined her at the railing.

“Do you really intend to give it to him?” he asked.

She thought of little Vestra and her stuffed badger. At least Soneste had only lost her father, not her whole life like Gamnon’s children. “No.”

The whistling wind filled the empty silence.

“This was my last sanctuary,” he said at last, thumping the metal grate beneath them with his foot.

Soneste nodded. “It seems I’m on your side now too.”

Tallis touched her hand where it gripped the rail, only for a moment. “For what it’s worth, thank you. I’d probably be dead now if you hadn’t helped me escape.”

“We’re even, then.”

“I think you’re right. The Brelish royals are the mark,” Tallis said soberly. “They have been all along. Me and Lenrik, mere scapegoats. Distractions for you and the Ministry to waste its time on. Host! Before I went to the Market, I actually crossed paths with Princess Borina on the street. She was guarded by the Conqueror’s Host and a couple of bone knights. Security
has
tightened here, a consequence of Gamnon’s death.”

Soneste nodded. “If the changeling is telling the truth—and I’m sure he is—we know why Charoth
wants
the city’s security shuffled around. When I first arrived, Hyran assured me that General Thauram was assembling more personnel to guard Prince Halix and Princess Borina.”

“I have my own fight with the good general,” Tallis remarked, “but he’s loyal to Kaius. He wouldn’t betray his king or his nation.
If he brought in any of Charoth’s hirelings, he did so unaware.”

“This is why I need to go back to the Ministry.” Soneste gripped the metal rail. “The incident at the rail station was probably a ruse. The Halix
there
might well have been one of Charoth’s changelings, meant to distract the Lions while the real Halix is captured elsewhere.”

“You going back there, not a good idea,” Tallis said. “We can find out another way.”

Soneste shook her head. “If the Brelish royals really are in trouble, the Civic Minister—Kaius himself—will do
everything
in their power to keep it quiet. You know the consequences if something happens to Boranel’s children.”

“I do, but you can’t just go walking in there.” Tallis tapped the pommel of her rapier. “You’ve assaulted the Lions. There were witnesses. Fraternizing with the enemy. Welcome to my side of town.”

Soneste remembered the knave who was killed with his own blade just outside the Ministry headquarters. “I’m here on behalf of the King’s Citadel,” she reasoned. “I have a certain immunity. It might buy me time.”

“On the contrary, Soneste. As a representative of the Brelish crown, your actions may just as easily be construed as an act of war.” Tallis let the point sink in a moment. “Even if you can prove you had just cause, by the time they sort all that out …” Tallis gestured at the city that rose above them. “Whatever’s going on will be over. If your royals are harmed … well, I don’t think this is going to be a good time for foreign relations anyway. Things will get very ugly very quickly.”

“I know.” Soneste patted her coat, making sure she had all she needed. “I have to get close enough to be sure. But we can’t just go invading Charoth’s estate.”

“That’s exactly what we have to do.” Tallis caught her eye and held it. “We’ll do it
my
way, and it won’t just be you and me. Seems to me we’ve got a vengeful warforged in our ranks.”

Soneste laughed but felt no mirth in it. Her heart was already pounding. She glanced up at the distant, floating lights of the
Tower of the Twelve, wishing they could call down the help of some of Khorvaire’s most powerful mages, storm Charoth’s estate in force with and lay all secrets bare.

But they didn’t know who else Charoth might own. Just how mighty was this one man, self-exiled from his house, disfigured and feared? What in Khyber’s lightless depths was he after? She remembered the fear and hatred she’d felt pouring off of him at the sight of the warforged. It seemed his only defining passion, but it wasn’t motive enough. Unless his rage extended to the Warforged Decree, warforged had nothing to do with the Brelish royals.

Soneste stepped out onto the dock. “There is a chandler’s shop across from Charoth’s estate. Wait in the alley beside it, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Tallis opened his mouth to interject.

“Keep Aegis with you, please,” she said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Gan whimpered beneath the warforged’s grip. “She promised!” he wailed when he saw Tallis return. “I have said what I know!”

Tallis kneeled down to look straight into Gan’s good eye. The bruises he’d given the changeling were nothing compared to the sickly lines that now creased his face. Purple bags swelled beneath both eyes, sweat slicked his entire body, and saliva leaked continually from his lips. Tallis had seen Lower District scum starving for their addictions for a variety of substances, but never in such quick order.

“One more question for you,” Tallis said. “Why Lenrik? Why was he involved? Why was he silenced?”

Gan forced the words through moist lips. “One of you
had
to be, to complicate the investigation. The priest was more accessible to Lady Mova. She knew she could get close to him at any time. Not you.”

Tallis stared at the changeling, wanting nothing more in that moment than the freedom to drive a blade into his throat. “Well, we’re out of time, Gan. I’d love to keep talking to you, to find out
more
reasons to kill you, but we’ll just have to have that chat later. So for now …” In his mind, Tallis could see Lenrik’s face in the repose of undeserved death. “You suffer.”

“Give it!” the changeling shrieked, flecks of spittle flying from his lips.

Tallis stood. “Verdax, your storage hold. I need to keep him in there for now. I’ll return for him later.”

The kobold stamped his clawed foot on the ground. “No!”

Gan started to scream again. “Aegis,” Tallis said, “Please shut him up.” The changeling gave a strangled cry as the warforged held his jaw shut with his metal grip.

Tallis kneeled before Verdax and looked the artificer straight in the eyes. “Verdax, listen to me. I’m going in deep this time, and I need to borrow some things.”

“No! This not—”

“You
know
I’m good for it all. Verdax, do you remember Lenrik? My friend, the priest up in the cathedral?”

“Elf man,” the kobold said. “He hurt?”

“Dead, Verdax. Killed by vermin like this man, and I need to take them down.”

“Charoth,” the kobold warned. “Mask Wizard, Tallis. Too many friends. You going with him, not to be back and pay me for what you take.”

Tallis nodded. “I understand your concern. I’m good for it, either way.” He produced a strip of paper and an ink pen from one of Verdax’s piles and scrawled down a series of numbers. He placed it in the kobold’s clawed hands. “These are my safe houses in Rekkenmark and Atur. If I don’t come back from this job, they’re all yours. Collateral, a fair amount of gold and plenty of compensation in goods. It’s more than you know. All right?”

“No.” The kobold’s dragonlike face wasn’t as stern anymore. The red glow of his eyes had softened.

“Thank you, old friend. You’re the last one I’ve got. When this is all over, you and I will talk about getting you to Sharn for good.”

The artificer’s diminutive chest puffed up, then he blew out a long, breathy hiss. “Take Ferine Blade and armor wrist.”

Tallis smiled. “Thank you.”

Verdax pointed to the spectacles on the table, not yet repaired. “Darkseeing glass not finishing.”

“I’ll have to do without. How about some sovereign glue?”

He considered his opponents. If they faced a Blood priestess, there was likely a small company of undead under her power. Gods, how he could have used Lenrik’s help in this. He maintained a veritable arsenal of weapons perfect for battling the undead—holy water, silver and blessed weapons, and the like—but now Aureon’s shrine would be locked up under the prelate’s watchful eye. He could go nowhere near it.

Then there was Charoth. Even before today, Tallis knew he commanded a network of informants and street toughs. It made sense that he hired changelings like Gan. A practical mix of mercenaries and spies. None of that surprised him. What did surprise Tallis was that Charoth was resourceful enough to reach the Red Watchers and had somehow learned of his connection to Lenrik. He’d underestimated the infamous Masked Wizard. How long had Charoth been planning this day?

Then there was the question of location. Surely Charoth wasn’t sitting around in his house with all his cohorts arrayed neatly around him. What in Khyber was he doing? Why would a man, even an ambitious Cannith lord, risk his entire industrial empire? He was opposing Kaius III himself, arbiter of the Thronehold Treaty, whose military might could not be guessed. Against the king of Karrnath, Charoth could not win—surely?

Soneste stepped into an alley and out of plain sight. She spoke the word that triggered the magic of her shiftweave clothing. The
blue coat and stylish Brelish shirt she wore reformed instantaneously into the garments of a noble’s servant. Her wide-brimmed hat had become a sensible cap that kept her hair from blowing loose. She unbuckled her rapier and carried it openly in hand.

When she neared the headquarters of the Justice Ministry, she slowed down. White Lions swarmed the street, drawing the murmur of the civilians who wandered through. They’d assembled into ordered formations, awaiting orders, but Soneste detected a note of confusion among their ranks.

“Excuse me, watchmen,” she called as she approached the nearest squad. The Karrnathi accent was easy for her. She held up the rapier. “My master, Major Dalesek, instructed me to bring this to him at the Ministry offices when it was repaired. Is there trouble here?”

“Come back later, miss,” the closest soldier answered.

“What’s going on?” she asked with concern. It wasn’t hard to fake it.

“It doesn’t matter. Move along.”

“I saw the Conqueror’s Host mustering,” Soneste added. “Should I be concerned?”

The Lion turned to look at her. There was frustration in his expression. “Yes. That is, no. There’s been bloodshed on the streets. It’s being handled.”

“And bloody wizards coming in from House Medani,” she heard the man behind the guard whisper to the comrade beside him.

The first Lion spun around. “Private, speak out of turn again and you’ll be polishing up the Old Man’s privy for the next month.”

Medani? The House of Detection. Were they looking for her and Tallis … or Halix and Borina?

Soneste slipped away without a word.

Infiltration
Wir, the 11th of Sypheros, 998 YK

N
ight had fully embraced Korth. The dim light of several moons and the cold fire lanterns of the city saw Soneste’s way to the Community Ward. She had purchased a few supplies of her own as quickly as possible, altering her shiftweave into the same dark clothing she’d worn at the Midnight Market, and made her way to Charoth’s estate.