River of Thieves Page 4

  "That thing was a monster."

  "His name was Eugeen. He was as frightening as a cat."

  "No cat could fit my entire arm in its mouth."

  "So, Rek gets an idea. He disappears for a few hours, and when he comes back, he's smelly as shit, but confident. He grabs the saddle, puts a foot in a stirrup, and the wind shifts. This horse gets a whiff of him and rears. So here's Rek, suddenly dangling by a stirrup, tangled in the reins, and the horse is trying to bite him. Not little nips, either, but great big chomping bites.

  "He starts screaming, the horse is kicking and biting, and finally Lux gets it to sleep with a little magic. We get Rek free, and when he's finally calmed down, ask him what happened. Turns out he'd doused himself in horse piss."

  "For the love of fuck, why?" I asked.

  "Thought he'd like me more if I smelled like a horse," Rek said.

  "Yeah, but what kind of horse piss was it, Rek?" Cord asked.

  "Stallion."

  "And what kind of piss did you mean to use?"

  He hung his head. "Mare."

  "But that means..." I said.

  Cord nodded. "Horse would've fucked him to death."

  "Never again," Rek said.

  "Just remember, coulda been worse," Cord said.

  "How?"

  "You could be pregnant with horse babies."

  "I don't think that's how it works," I said.

  Cord shrugged. "I'm not a chiurgeon."

  Apparently, they considered Lux some sort of predator, bolting when she drew near. It's the animal kingdom's way of saying fuck this, fuck that, and fuck you. More importantly, even on the Veldt, horseflesh came at a premium. If you saw someone not in silk or velvet riding one, either they served as cavalry, or the horse belonged to someone else.

  The trees thinned further, wide spaces cleared by brave workers, allowing the Arcanum's tower to view the landscape with some safety. The river widened out, and the tower came into view, a thick spire of brick thrusting toward the sky like a fat man's cock. I thought it perfectly indicative of the Arcanum's attitude. I don't know why anyone expected people capable of wielding godlike power to possess a shred of humility. They certainly didn't hold themselves to that standard.

  We drifted into the Murkwater, and I shook Cord awake. He snorted and rubbed a hand over his face. The surface of the lake clouded over, like a storm roiling under the surface, and as we passed, lightning played in the depths. A small town surrounded the base of the tower ahead. Craftsmen, laborers, support staff, and magi who'd made the decision not to serve elsewhere made their homes there. Nearer the tower stood a hospital for those desperate for cures the chiurgeons, herbalists, and mundane alchemists couldn't provide.

  A low wall surrounded it all, providing protection from the forest beasts with a combination of simple brick and sophisticated wards. Docks extended from the town into the water, footings plunging into the murky depths. Lights from Tremiare reflected in the lake, and as we approached, something black and huge roiled beneath the surface and swam deeper.

  Rek pulled us up to a slip among several boats of varying size, tossing a dockhand a rope. We clambered out, stretching our legs, thankful to be on solid ground again. Cord placed his hands in the small of his back and bent, groaning, while I chewed another sliver of slipweed. At least on land and moving around, I'd have some relief from the cramps. When we'd recovered, Cord led us toward the dock gate, a swagger in his step. Damn him. How did he have a swagger after being still and uncomfortable for so long?

  A bored-looking youth stood guard at the gate. He wore no armor aside from a steel ring on a leather cord and a spear. He glanced blearily at us.

  "Welcome to Tremaire. Mind yourself and we won't have to mind you," he intoned.

  "Hex," Cord said.

  The youth blinked.

  "Hex, it's me."

  "Cord?" Hex said.

  "The one and only."

  Hex smiled, and my stomach twisted in warning. His spear snapped out, impaling Cord's arm. He pulled it out with a grunt and tapped the end onto the flagstones, ignorant of the blood spilling down the tip. Cord shrieked, and then clapped a hand over the bleeding hole.

  "Please proceed," Hex said, all business again.

  Cord shot him a wounded look and walked through the gate, leaving a trail of red droplets. I caught up to him. He flexed a shoulder, trying to work the soreness out, and I saw the wound already bore a scab.

  "You're the best at making friends," I said.

  "He's just sore I didn't cut him in for more last time I was here."

  "Uh huh. The best. Are there more friends of yours here? Because I feel like we should buy you some chainmail."

  "He must be a friend. Cord's still alive," Rek said.

  Cord muttered something under his breath and changed the subject. "If I remember right, Lux used to hang out at this little pub by the tower. Cosca's. You two up for a drink?"

  I'd needed a drink since the start of my cycle. Since I'd just spent twelve hours sitting in a boat. Besides, I needed a privy so I could change my kama. I looked over at Rek to check his response, and noted his pale color. A drink might benefit him as well. He spent a good portion of our stroll among close buildings and lit alleys by shying away from the light. I suspected the slipweed hangover of kicking in some time ago, his skull playing host to a variety of brain goblins. Amazing stuff, but the comedown could cripple a small bull, depending on how much you'd taken. From the size of him, I guessed Cord's dose close to enough to drop a battalion.

  We fell into an easy pace, passing shops closed for the night, every manner of trinket and weapon in their windows. Somewhere on the other side of the merchant district, a forge rang out. Deeper in, throaty laughter from a gathering. Cord chattered happily, and from the look on Rek's face, it seemed he might break that promise to wait to kill him again.

  "Have you ever had the beer here? Oh, it's amazing, just the best. I think the wizards do something to it, but damn if it's ever had an ill side effect. And the potatoes! Just you wait—butter and onion and sausage and a touch of goat's cheese..."

  Music and conversation overtopped him as Cosca's came into view. A large building and long, it took up one end of the street. Simple painted wood facade and a high thatched roof set it apart from the stone and glass buildings on the street. We stepped inside and the sensations nearly overwhelmed me. The smells of food, spiced and roasted, smelled amazing. All the bodies crammed into the small room did not. Other sensations crowded in alongside, fighting for attention. Music, conversation, and bright bunting in the rafters. My mouth watered and I cursed Cord as he took his time finding us a table. When we finally sat, I snarled my order at the barmaid, and then made my way to the privy.

  When I returned, a slight blonde with pale skin and cloudy eyes occupied a stage at one end of the room. I sat and watched while she put on a show, first pulling a bird from thin air, then transforming it into a lizard. She lifted the lizard from the stage, and with a sudden flourish, jammed it into her mouth, chewing furiously. The crowd let out cries of disgust. Someone retched when the woman swallowed. Silence filled the room, and she produced a dagger, holding it out for the crowd to see.

  She plunged it into her stomach, opening her guts. Blood sprayed the front row of patrons, causing them to flinch in fear. One man scrambled to his feet from the front row, staggering away with his hands over his mouth. He couldn’t seem to run fast enough and he vomited across the floorboards in a fat fan of lamb chunks and potato. She rummaged around in her insides with one hand, then, with a triumphant smile on her lips withdrew the bird, whole and undamaged. The crowd erupted into cheers, and she took a bow. When she straightened, her stomach was clean and unblemished, and she stepped from the stage. She headed our way and sat beside Cord.

  “Nenn, meet Lux.”

  I nodded at her.

  “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore,” Rek mumbled.

  The waitress arrived, placing platters of meat and potato and t
umblers of beer in front of us.

  Rek took a deep breath, inhaling the scents. “Never mind, I’m still hungry,” he corrected.

  I agreed and reached over him, loading my plate. Cord hadn't exaggerated the quality of food at Cosca's. Amazing beer and potatoes made the world disappear while I tucked in. Lux's performance did nothing to put me off my appetite. For several minutes, I was unaware of anything else as I shoveled food into my mouth. When I finished, I pushed my chair back, and looked closer at Cord's guest.

  Lux stared off into the distance, a slight glaze over her eyes. She turned her head my way, skin nearly parchment-thin, blue veins tracing their way across her cheeks and brow. She gave no indication she saw me or anything else in the room.

  Cord looked up, noticed my empty plate. He gestured in my direction.

  "Lux, meet Nenn. Nenn, meet Lux."

  I nodded, and she favored me with a smile.

  "Pleased to meet you. Where did you get that wonderful glow about your flesh? Your hair is wonderful. How do you keep the lice from it?" she asked.

  I looked to Cord. He gave a slight shake of his head. It wasn't the weirdest introduction I'd experienced, but it counted among them. Cord changed the subject.

  "So... Lux here was just telling me that she would love to join us—"

  "Yes," Lux interrupted. "Yes, I would love to join your little ad-ven-ture, but you see, I have a condition, and I'm afraid the Arcanum won't let me go without a bit of a fight, or some extreme convincing."

  "Condition?" I asked.

  Cord groaned and banged his head into the table. I leaned in.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You can't just ask people why they're undead, Nenn."

  Lux opened her mouth and sucked in a breath. I sat up and turned my attention back to her.

  "I'm dead. Well, I mean I was, but now I'm not. It's more like a bad cold at this point, but no one's sure it's not catching, and they're worried if I bite someone they might accidentally die—oh, speaking of die, have you seen the Archmagus' robes? Heavenly. What was I saying? Oh yeah, I'm sorta dead, and we might need to kill some people to make them forget that."

  "Whoa," Rek pushed his plate away and raised his hands, palms out. "I dunno about killing. Maybe we just rough them up?"

  "See, the problem with that, is that wizards have long memories and bad tempers, and if you don't kill them and hide the bodies, they tend to hold a grudge," Cord said.

  Lux nodded. The table fell silent, and I looked at Cord. He winked at me, so I looked at Lux. She shot me a smile, and I turned to Rek. He'd found something in his nails of great interest. I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. A grin spread across Cord's face.

  "Relax, you'll love this plan," he said.

  "Fuck. Who we gotta kill?" I said.

  Let Us Never Speak of This Again

  I did not love this plan. Turned out the harbormaster needed killing. Because we also needed to steal a boat. Not a boat like we'd rowed in on, but a proper boat, with sails and a rudder and cabins. It also turned out that in addition to being a ranking member of the Council, the harbormaster moved about with two guards at all times. Leashmen who wouldn't hesitate to put a blade through any random neck they found themselves pointed at.

  I excused myself to the privy to change my kama and seethe. I didn't know what Cord was dragging us into, but I felt the level of danger approaching lethal for everyone not named Cord. And maybe Lux. I didn't know if the undead could re-die, to be honest.

  When I came out, he pulled me into a corner, a solemn look on his face.

  "Wha-?" I said.

  "We need to talk," he said.

  "You couldn't wait until I came back to the table?"

  He shook his head. "Not for this."

  "So, you just ambush a person outside the privy? You are lucky I didn't have a knife. Or a full bladder."

  "Isn't that why you went in there?"

  "Yeah, but--I think we're getting sidetracked. What do you want?"

  He nodded and took a deep breath through his nose. "Look, this could go bad for everyone. If we don't all make it out, I want you to run. Get as far away as you can."

  "Shouldn't you be telling everyone this?"

  He shook his head. "I need you to keep everyone together. Tell them I told you the whole plan, that you can pull it off without me, but you have to make a stop. Ditch them at the first dirtwater you come across and keep going."

  "That seems... shitty."

  He shook his head. "They can take care of themselves. Besides, splitting up will keep people off your back."

  "Then what?"

  "Find a man in Orlecht, name of Clane. He'll make sure you get your cut, no matter what."

  I raised an eyebrow. "You have friends? In Orlecht?"

  He shrugged. "You don't think I share everything with you, do you?"

  I thought about it, shook my head. "No, you're not as dumb as you act."

  "Good, Nenn. Good. Also, fuck you."

  "Fuck you," I said, and he chucked me on the shoulder.

  "Let's get back, shall we? Larceny and murder wait for no one."

  I chuckled and followed him back to the table.

  ***

  "Fuck fuck fuckity fuck," Cord said.

  We sat in the second story of a netmaker's shop, looking out over the docks. It was little effort to convince the owner to let us rent the space. While nets are useful on a lake, they had to be made of special stuff in Tremaire, and it was expensive work. A little gold can grease a lot of palms, they say.

  Boats bobbed in their berths, masts waving gently as they tossed a bit with the tide. Ours was a shallow draft tall ship just under forty feet named the Bough Mount, though none of us knew what that actually meant. Paint peeled from the hull, and the masts looked like they'd give you a splinter if you looked at them wrong. Still, it sat high in the water, and the sails looked to be in good condition.

  Cord's string of profanity was due to a squat figure in robes surrounded by several men—far more than three—currently searching our boat. We watched them mill and huddle, some of the Leashmen taking up posts that effectively blocked off the dock and the berth, others poking around amidships. The harbormaster called something down into the cabin of the boat. Another figure in black robes with a flesh-enrobed skull tucked under his arm came up the stairs. Scarified skin in thick ridges of raised flesh marked out pale tracks on bare arms.

  "Harrower," Cord said, voice low.

  "How in the snowy hells did you manage to pick the one boat to steal that happens to be currently undergoing a rectal inspection?" I asked.

  Rek leaned forward in his chair. "Cord could fuck up an erection if he was getting it stroked, that's how."

  Lux giggled and Cord flipped them both the bird.

  "Aw, Cordy, you know it's true. You remember that Ithian? What was his name? Yan? Had his hand in your trousers and you'd had too many? Dipped down to finish the job and you just puked right on his beautiful bald head. Never seen a man with skin that dark turn that red," Lux said.

  Cord muttered something and turned to the window, watching the party on the dock. He fell quiet for several minutes, a stark counterpoint to Rek and Lux chatting behind us. Finally, he turned back, a slow grin spreading across his face.

  "I have a plan," he said.

  ***

  The thing you have to understand about Cord's plans is this: they were usually very good. That was the upside. The downside meant that someone usually found themselves in mortal danger. There were better than even odds that thanks to the encounter with Hex, everyone already knew Cord had arrived. It flattened Cord’s chances of strolling around without at least one Leashman trailing his shadow. We weren't usually so lucky though. There were probably three. A side effect of burning people on your deals meant they were inclined to no longer trust you, and ensure that no one else trusted you.

  We suspected that was the reason for the boat search, though it wasn't a certainty. For one, we had no idea how they susse
d out which boat Cord targeted. Wizards are wily, and sneaky, and generally not to be trusted. They might have pulled that information from the aether. They might have used a crystal ball. Maybe they threw a dart at a peasant until he squealed and pointed at the nearest thing that meant no one would throw darts at him. Between that and the disgruntled guard, it meant our plan to jump the harbormaster and steal the boat, or any boat at this point, was out of the question. In truth, I was a little relieved. I'd secretly agreed with Rek, but they'd forced me into a decision. Offing the Harbormaster seemed like a good way of sending up a 'please kill us' flare. I'd hoped they'd realize the insanity of it. I'd apparently hoped wrong.

  Cord stared at the docks. "Can't you do your woman thing, Nenn?"

  "What the hell is the woman thing?"

  "You know, boobs, butt, smile."

  "That is really insulting."

  "But it works, right?"

  "Well, yeah. Men are stupid. But it's probably a bad idea in this case. Those men have swords, and in my experience, men who don't get what they want tend to try to take it."

  "Yeah, they're shits like that," Rek agreed. "Think harder," he told Cord.

  So, here we were. Ten Leashmen. One wizard. One Harrower. Even the wizard—a smile, an interest in his power and station—done. But the Harrower, that was a problem. They didn't think like men or women, didn't think of anything other than the dark and the things that lived there, and they could unleash it on you at any time. They were smart, and mean, and I suspected took joy in the combination. Gods forbid they ever gained significant power, and if it looked close that they might, gods willing, someone put them down.

  ***

  Cord and Lux took a trip into the shopping district as soon as the sun lightened the horizon, leaving Rek and I to watch the dock. The coterie hadn't moved from their positions.

  "They've been standing there for hours," Rek said. "We should probably come up with a new plan."

  I was inclined to agree with him. I opened my mouth to say so when a new group of Leashmen arrived and relieved the others of duty. The Harbormaster left with them, though I noticed the Harrower still sat on crates nearby. Now and then, he raised the severed head he carried and spoke softly to it. I shuddered.