Thraxas - The Complete Series (48 page)

The volcano starts to erupt.

“Get us out of here!” roars Tholius.

“Why should I? You’ll only kill us when we’re back in the tavern.”

I turn to Casax.

“Not much point taking us all back to Twelve Seas if the Brotherhood starts coming round giving me a hard time, is there?”

Casax, still without fear, ponders for a second or two, then shrugs his shoulders.

“Probably not, Investigator. But I’m not too mad at you for this. We want the gold and I’m not giving up on it, but if you get us out of here I’ll forget that you’ve been holding out on us.”

Molten lava is now pouring from the volcano and rocks are starting to crash around our heads. Any second now there’s going to be one almighty explosion and Thraxas, Private Investigator, will never be seen again in the state of Turai.

I call over to Tholius.

“How about you, Prefect? You willing to walk away from the Avenging Axe if I get us back?”

Tholius doesn’t have as much backbone as Casax.

“Yes,” he screams. “Get us out!”

“And as for you, Ixial and Tresius. You better just promise in the name of Saint Quatinius not to harm us when we return.”

Ixial and Tresius nod. I catch a look in Rallee’s eyes showing that he doesn’t think much of all these vows. Neither do I, but I’ll have to hope for the best. The volcano shows no sign of disappearing and you can die here the same as anywhere else. If I get us out of the magic space I’ll have to take them all with me, though I’d be tempted to leave them if I could.

I turn to Makri.

“Where’s Hanama?”

She doesn’t know. The Assassin has slipped off somewhere. There is a deafening explosion as the top of the volcano blows off and rocks the size of houses start tumbling around us. Ash rains down from the sky. It’s difficult to breathe.

“Get us out,” scream a dozen voices.

“Okay. Just let me get a sandwich.”

I dig around in my bag and bring out one of the sandwiches Tanrose made me for my day’s investigation. After all the running around and fighting it’s looking somewhat the worse for wear, but it would do for lunch if I was hungry.

Everyone stares at me incredulously.

“Thraxas, this is no time to be thinking about your stomach!” cries Captain Rallee furiously as the molten lava starts to singe our toes.

“He’s mocking us!” snarls Tholius. “I’ll kill him before the volcano gets me!”

Remaining calm I remove the top layer from the sandwich, revealing some or Tanrose’s home-cured meat. I scrape a few grains of salt off the meat. The volcano erupts even more violently than before. A six-foot wall of lava surges over the rim and races towards us. Young monks scream and fall to their knees in prayer.

I drop the salt on the ground. There’s an even louder bang and the whole world shakes itself apart in a fantastic earthquake. Abruptly the earthquake halts, the air shimmers, and the magic space starts to melt away. We find ourselves deafened but otherwise healthy, back in the Avenging Axe. The volcano is gone. No pigs lecture us. Gurd looks at me wonderingly.

“How—?”

“Salt. Complete anathema to the magic space. Destroys it. A little trick I learned on my travels abroad. The magic purse is no more. Only foreign bodies like us and the statue could survive. Everybody all right?”

The monks start picking themselves off the ground, dazed from their experiences but relieved to be alive. No one is looking too comfortable. When you are one second away from death at the hands of a massive volcanic explosion and then the next second back in a tavern in Twelve Seas, it takes a little time to adjust.

Prefect Tholius is one of the first to get his wits back. He checks that his ally Casax is still in one piece. Then, seeing that he still has a number of men in good health, he turns and points at me.

“Kill that man,” he orders.

I’m getting sick of hearing that.

The monks hold back, unsure of whether to join in. And at that moment, as Gurd, Makri, Rallee and myself are wearily raising our weapons and thinking that really there must be some easier way to make a living, almost everyone in the tavern collapses to the ground and lies unconscious on the floor.

Makri and I find ourselves staring stupidly at a mass of assorted monks and gangsters apparently all having an afternoon sleep. The only other person still standing is Casax.

“What happened?”

“Are we still in the magic space?” demands Makri.

“You are back in the Avenging Axe,” says Astrath Triple Moon, appearing from the top of the stairs. I notice he’s helped himself to a flagon of ale.

“Well done, Thraxas. I was a bit worried when you all disappeared into the magic space. That’s really not a place you should go. But I thought you’d probably emerge all right. Salt?”

I nod.

“I’ve been looking at your grimoire,” continues the Sorcerer. “Rather out-of-date, but functional enough. I thought you might need a little help when you got back so I had the sleep spell in readiness.”

He looks at Makri. “I see your spell protection charms are working well.”

Makri and I both wear spell protection charms round our necks. They’re made out of Red Elvish Cloth, which is immensely powerful, woven in with copper beads and wires and treated by Astrath. We acquired them a couple of months ago, fortunately, because a spell protection charm is vital to a man in my line of work. After I pawned my last one I was left an easy target for any malicious Sorcerer who came my way. Spell protections are rare items, and very expensive, and only the city’s most important officials such as the Consul are issued with them as a matter of right, which is why Captain Rallee now lies sleeping at my feet, along with Gurd and everyone else struck down by Astrath’s spell.

“Poor Rallee. They ought to pay him better. Good thinking, Astrath.”

Casax, an important man in the underworld, also has a spell protection charm so he’s still awake, but I can tell he’s at a loss for what to do next. I suggest to him he should leave before I summon the Guards and they start rounding up everyone connected with the King’s gold. The gangster’s face remains impassive but for once he has to admit defeat. Faced with myself, Makri and Astrath Triple Moon, he can’t get to the statue, and even though he has influence in this city he won’t want to be connected with the gold theft. That would have repercussions too strong even for the Brotherhood to escape.

He turns and leaves without saying a word. Now we just have to decide what to do with everyone before they start waking up. Makri suggests killing the ringleaders while they’re still sleeping. I admit it as a possibility but wonder if there is some less drastic way to make ourselves safe.

There is the slightest of sounds behind us as Hanama emerges from behind the statue. She wears a plain black necklace, the standard spell protection charm of the important Assassin. This Assassin has a great capacity for disappearing and reappearing when you don’t expect it.

“I’m glad you’re still alive,” she says to Makri, calmly, and walks towards the door.

“Don’t bother thanking me,” I call to her.

“What for? I knew how to get out of the magic space. I took the precaution of taking salt with me.”

Hanama appears to have been untroubled by the whole affair. She’s cool in a crisis, I have to grant her that.

“Is that really the King’s gold?” she says, pointing to the statue.

I look at the statue and nod.

“It is.”

“Well done,” says Hanama. “Another crime solved by your powers of investigation.”

She disappears through the front door. I stare after her suspiciously.

“That was odd.”

“She paid you a compliment,” says Makri.

“That’s what’s odd. Why? The Assassins Guild doesn’t waste its time on compliments. Well, never mind. What are we going to do now? We have about ten minutes until everyone wakes up. I really can’t stand any more running around getting chased by everyone. I’m sick of it.”

I am heartily sick of the whole affair. I started off just wanting to clear poor Grosex. Look where it got me. Next time a Prefect insults me I should think twice about losing my temper. But I probably won’t.

I have to do something quickly. Tholius will be down on me like a bad spell when he wakes up. We could be back where we started and now I’ve destroyed the magic space there’s nowhere to hide.

“You could leave the tavern before they wake,” suggests Astrath Triple Moon. “I could shelter you.”

I’m not so fond of this idea. I don’t feel like hiding.

“I could put the sleep spell back in my mind and send them to sleep again when they wake.”

“True. But we’d be here all day. The Guards would probably like a long talk with some of these people. It’s no use going to the harbour station though. Tholius is in charge there and they’d just throw us in the slammer and I doubt we’d ever get out. But we could try Captain Rallee’s station. Once his men hear he’s in trouble they’ll come.”

“What about the statue?”

“Without the magic purse no one’s going to be able to move it in a hurry.”

It means leaving the sleeping Gurd behind, but he’ll be safe enough with Astrath watching over things. They’re not after Gurd anyway. Makri and I make to leave. I get a strange feeling as I walk past the slumbering figure of Ixial the Seer. A very strange feeling. I bend down to examine him.

“He’s dead.”

“Dead?”

A slim dart is buried in his chest, just deep enough to reach his heart. An Assassin’s weapon. I shake my head.

“That’s why Hanama asked us to look at the statue.”

You have to admire the woman’s skill. In the brief seconds I was distracted she threw a dart into Ixial’s chest, killing him casually in passing. And no one could say they witnessed the event.

“No one escapes the Assassins Guild,” I sigh. “Come on, let’s get the Guards.”

I know most of the Guards at the Captain’s station though that doesn’t mean I’m a frequent or welcome visitor. Captain Rallee bans them from giving me information. But when I march in and tell them that their Captain is at present lying asleep in the Avenging Axe, with the Brotherhood, Tholius and two temples’ worth of warrior monks waiting to attack him, and, furthermore, the King’s missing gold secreted nearby, the station empties quickly enough. I stop off on the way to send a message to Praetor Cicerius. If there’s a reward paid out for the recovery of the gold I don’t want my share shuffled aside for some grasping Civil Guard.

It takes twenty minutes to make the round trip. When we get back the tavern has emptied entirely of opponents.

Astrath looks abashed. “Sorry, I didn’t have another spell to stop them escaping.”

Captain Rallee is still yawning. He glares angrily at Astrath Triple Moon for sending him to sleep though he admits there was nothing else he could do in the circumstances.

“You ought to get a spell protection charm, Captain.”

“On my salary?”

He starts barking out orders, sending men to the Abode of Justice and the Palace with news of what’s been going on.

“You think Prefect Tholius will stay and try and bluff it out with his connections?”

“Doubt it. He’s blown it this time. His connections will never smooth over his stealing from the King. I expect he’s packed a bag and fled the city by now. Same with the monks. Was the Brotherhood in on the theft?”

I shake my head. They were just trying to pick up whatever they could. There’s probably no way of making anything stick to Casax, not with the amount of bribe money the Brotherhood can feed to a jury when it needs to. Anyway, I can’t see any jury convicting him of pursuing an Investigator and a Guard Captain through the magic space with murderous intent. It was established long ago in Turanian legal circles that the city statutes do not apply to events in the magic space.

A couple of Guards are wrapping up Ixial’s body prior to carting it away to the morgue. When he saw the dart in Ixial’s heart Captain Rallee didn’t have to be told what happened.

“Hanama? You see her do it?”

I shake my head. “She’s too smart for that.”

“I hate these killers,” mutters the Captain. “I’d be happy to see them all swinging on the gallows.”

He knows there’s no chance of that. The Assassins Guild has too much protection because the Senate finds them very useful at times. So, it’s rumoured, does the King. Besides which, they rarely leave any evidence of their acts behind them. If the Guards ask a Sorcerer to examine the dart it’ll turn out to have been painted with fragments of Red Elvish Cloth, or spell protected, or manipulated in some other way known only to the Assassins to make it untraceable. Trying to convict Hanama of killing Ixial would be like trying to catch the breeze.

Rallee accepts a beer from Gurd. It’s against the rules for Guards to drink on duty, but they don’t pay too much notice to this sort of rule. The Captain is very pleased to have recovered the gold, but I can tell he’s not happy.

“I expect you’ll be wasting no time in going to the courts and presenting evidence to get Grosex cleared of the murder?”

The captain hates it when I put one over on the Guard.

I finish off my own beer. “I’m going up to see him right now.”

Soolanis and Dandelion appear with Palax and Kaby. They’ve been hiding in the caravan out the back. Captain Rallee stares at them perceptively.

“Keep taking dwa and it’ll kill you,” he grunts.

“Or I will,” I add.

Soolanis was bad enough as a drunk. If she gets into dwa she might as well sell her father’s villa and move on to the street right away. It’ll save time. And it takes Palax and Kaby enough time and effort to earn money busking, so I don’t understand why they then want to spend it on some useless drug. Nothing would surprise me about Dandelion. I take the healing stone and hand it to her, but even this brings little expression into her vacant eyes.

“Take this to the dolphins when you get your energy back.”

I ask Makri to come to the law courts with me.

“You think Sarin might still be around?”

I shake my head. Sarin will have learned by now that the gold statue is beyond her reach. She won’t trouble us again.