The City of Towers

CHAPTER 14

The tables were on fire. The walls and floor of the King of Fire were the same black stone as the exterior. Mystical symbols were carved into the walls and inlaid with brass; set against the dark stone they almost seemed to be floating in midair. There were no torches, no chandeliers. The light came from the chairs and tables themselves. Half a dozen round tables, carved from darkwood and inscribed with the same symbols as the walls, were spread around the common room. Cold fire had been woven into the wood of the tables, and these insubstantial flames cast long shadows across the walls. People were laughing and talking, and the rattle of dice and flutter of shuffling cards filled the air.

“Welcome! What are you looking for?” The voice seemed to come from thin air, but as his eyes adjusted to the strange lighting, Daine realized that there was a slender halfling woman standing next to him. She had short dark hair and wore a black dress embroidered with the same symbols that could be seen on the walls.

“Can I get a flagon of korluaat?” he asked. He had developed a taste for the pitchy brew while serving with a troop of Darguul mercenaries.

Lei made a face, but the halfling nodded. “Oh, absolutely.” Noticing Lei’s expression, she said, “A lot of people think the Gargoyle has a strong chance this year, and we’re expecting to have a lot of goblins up from Malleon’s Gate to get a closer view. Now, what can I get for you, dear?”

“Blackroot tal,” Lei said.

“Very well. Take any open stool, and I’ll be right back. I’m Kela. Just call if you need anything.” As if in response, a burly half-orc bellowed her name from across the room and she scurried away.

They found an empty table and sat down. Daine found it difficult to set his hands down on the smoldering table. No heat flickered from the flames that covered the table, no crackle or smoke, but it was still difficult to overcome his instincts.

Lei had no such trouble. She set her elbows on the table and gazed into the silvery flames. She looked over at him, and there was sorrow in her eyes. “I remember my first lessons with eternal fire,” she said, her voice distant. “My mother had woven the flame into the lining of a small wooden casket. I used to keep it by my bed, so I always had light at my side when the wind rose and the shadows seemed threatening …” Her voice drifted off.

Daine wanted to let her reminisce, to work through her emotions and her loss, but there simply wasn’t time. “Lei …”

Her misty eyes cleared, and she looked up at him. “Yes?”

“We need information. We don’t have enough money for bribes, and with Jode busy … well, you know I’m not a master of diplomacy.”

“True enough.”

“Thanks. Anyhow, without Jode, you’d better prepare a charmer.”

Lei nodded. She pulled a small shard of quartz from her belt pouch and began to polish it with a piece of fox’s fur, whispering quietly.

As Lei wove an enchantment into the stone, Daine examined the common room. A number of people played games of chance, but these appeared to be friendly contests, and from the stream of people moving to and fro, Daine gathered that there was a formal gaming hall farther in the building. The patrons of the King came from all races and nations. Glancing around the room Daine could see a gnome on a tall stool playing a round of sundown with an elderly man and a burly half-orc. A pair of shifters were dicing against a trio of Valenar elves. An elf woman cried out in triumph as she made a difficult roll, and one of her opponents bared long fangs in a frustrated snarl.

Daine’s wandering gaze finally fixed on a woman who had just emerged from the inner hall. She was wrapped in a dark, flowing cloak, and only her face was visible. Even that was shadowed under a voluminous hood. What caught Daine’s attention were her eyes-large and green, glowing like emeralds in the magical firelight. She held his gaze for a long moment, a hint of a smile playing over her lips. Then she looked away, and the spell was broken. She knelt and spoke to the innkeeper, then disappeared out the front door.

A moment later Kela arrived at their table, carrying their drinks. Lei was absorbed in her work and didn’t look up when the mug of steaming tal was placed before her. Daine swirled the sludgy korluaat about in the tankard.

“What do we owe you?” he said.

“It’s already been taken care of,” the tiny innkeeper said.

“By …?”

“The lady who just left. I saw you looking at her. I’m afraid I don’t know her name. Kalashtar, I think.”

Kalashtar. Daine had heard of the kalashtar but had never actually met one before. Tales said the kalashtar were possessed, that their ancestors were humans who had sold their bodies to ghosts or spirits from another plane. They were supposed to have unnatural powers over mortal minds. Of course, these same storytellers claimed House Cannith made the warforged by binding the spirits of the dead into shells of wood and metal, and that the dragonmarked houses had actual dragons hidden in their basements. Still, he could see how such stories could arise. Her gaze had been hypnotic. But she was gone, and it was a mystery for another day.

“If the korluaat is free, I’ve got a few crowns to spare,” Daine said, tossing a coin in the air. “Perhaps you could help me do something about that.”

“We aim to please, my lord,” Kela said with a smile. “What’s your pleasure?”

“I’m new to Sharn, and I’m intrigued by these races. ‘Wind-chases,’ is that right?”

“Indeed. If this is your first time to Sharn, I assure you after you’ve seen a windchase, then chariots, horses, and hounds will hold no interest.”

“Well, I’m looking for a mentor, someone who can tell me how the game is played, who to keep an eye on, who’s won in the past. I like to know what I’m getting into before I take risks. Anyone around who might help me with that?”

Kela nodded. “I expect that Dek will be happy to help you, for a few crowns. I’ll see if he’s free.”

Daine tossed her a coin. She deftly caught it and threw it back to him.

“Save it for the games,” she said with a smile, before disappearing into the crowd.

A few minutes later, Daine approached them and sat down. Or so it seemed. “I hear you’re interested in the races?” the newcomer said. While his face was a perfect mirror of Daine’s, his voice was too high and he was dressed in loose brown clothing.

A changeling. Daine hated changelings.

“That’s right,” he said, placing a few crowns on the table. “But I’ve never liked talking to myself.”

His twin passed a hand over the coins, and they vanished. “My apologies. Some people don’t like to see their own faces.” The pigment slowly ran out of his skin, and a white film spread across his eyes. His hair grew out, becoming fair and wispy. His facial features seemed to melt away, leaving only a hint of nose and lips. “It’s the scar, isn’t it? You’re not comfortable with it yet?”

“Let’s stick to the games,” Daine said.

“Touchy. So why don’t you tell me what you want to know, and we’ll see what it’s worth?”

Daine caught Lei’s eye and blinked twice. She pulled out the polished quartz shard. “We don’t have much to offer,” she said shyly, “but we do have this.” She held the stone out toward the changeling, and as he reached for it she muttered a swift triggering incantation. Patterns of light and mist seemed to swirl about in the depths of the stone. With some effort, Daine pulled his eyes away.

It was a calculated risk. If the charmer worked, Dek would think of Lei as an old friend. But if it failed and he realized what happened … at the very least, they’d be thrown out of the King of Fire. And changelings were known for their slippery minds. But they didn’t have money to spare, and Daine needed to be able to trust the information they received.

The light faded. Lei left the stone on the table. Slowly, Dek picked up the crystal shard. He seemed slightly dazed. Lei caught Daine’s eye and nodded slightly.

“I know it’s not much, Dek, but I wanted you to have it,” Lei said, putting her hand on that of the changeling. “Something to remember me by.”

“Thank you,” Dek said, and his voice was suddenly a mirror of hers. A swirl of coppery color ran through his hair, then faded away. “What … what was it you wanted to know again? I’m afraid I blacked out for a moment.”

Lei asked questions about the aerial races of Sharn. Dek was only too happy to help his new best friend, and he told them all about the different sports-skyblade jousts, the windchasing routes that wound through the maze of spires, and the Race of Eight Winds, an ancient tradition dating back to the early days of Sharn.

“The race is incredibly important to the people of this tower,” Dek explained. “Each district is associated with one of the eight beasts that can compete in the race. As the race draws near, you’ll see the inhabitants of each district wearing the colors of their beast or showing their allegiance in other ways. There are feasts and games for weeks before and after the race. Of course, tempers grow high. There are long feuds based on past performance, and occasionally it turns into violence.”

“I don’t understand,” Lei said. “How could a griffon possibly compete in a race against a hippogriff? The Hippogriff is far faster.”

“There’s more to the Race of Eight Winds than speed,” Dek explained. “The rider is allowed to carry a small crossbow and a quiver of quarrels coated with a weak venom-not enough to kill a creature, but strong enough to slow it down. And the beasts are allowed to use claw, tooth and beak. I’ve never seen the Griffon win the race, but one or two of the other contestants usually fall prey to its claws. The people of Precarious don’t expect to win. They just want to see who the Griffon will take down. But while it was before my time, the Griffon has won the race before, and I’m sure it will again. The Windguard-the handlers, racers, and organizers-spend the time between races negotiating and scheming. The Griffon’s services are bought with future favors, and eventually those all come due.”

“But the faster beasts usually win?”

“Well, yes. It’s often really a race between the Pegasus and the Hippogriff, with all the rest following in a pack. But I’ve seen some interesting things before. Many of the racing beasts are intelligent, after all. I’ve heard a rumor that the current owl is studying magic to enhance her speed with wizardry, though that seems a bit farfetched. The Gargoyle is a recent addition, replacing the bat. He’s a surprisingly tricky beast, and the goblins love him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulls it off one of these years.”

“Lei,” Daine whispered, “can we get to the point? We’ve got a dinner appointment.”

She nodded. “This is fascinating information, Dek, but I was wondering if you could tell me about one of the riders-a human named Rasial Tann, who used to race with the Hippogriff?”

Dek thought for a moment, then his face brightened-literally. “Yes! Rasial! I remember him now. He started out doing the lesser windchases, aerial jousts in the Hollow Tower and the like. His first time in the Race of Eight winds was 991, I think, and he won the year after that. One of the finest hippogriff riders I’ve seen, and a good man by all accounts. Gold Wing guard, you know. Terrible loss for the Hippogriff. Ralus, their new rider, isn’t nearly as good.”

“New rider? What happened to Rasial?”

“Well, he had a series of accidents, the first of which cost him victory in the Race of Eight Winds. After the third death, he left for good.”

“Death?”

“During the last race, it seemed that Rasial might bring home a second victory for the Hippogriff. He was neck to wing with the Pegasus rider, and closing in on the Hollow Tower. Then his mount died. Just like that. Rasial was almost killed. He broke free from the saddle with just enough time to use his token of the winds, but another moment and he would have been nothing but a stain.”

“How did the Hippogriff die? Was it poison?”

“Well, the poisons used in the race are very weak. The goal is to give the rider a chance to slow down his enemies, not to kill them outright. Rasial’s mount may have been hit-by the Gargoyle, I think-but the crossbow and bolts are presented to the racing authorities at the start of the game, and the riders are carefully searched for contraband before the race. Of course, there wasn’t enough left of the body to do any sort of testing. But from what I’ve heard, according to Rasial his mount simply died without warning. Healthy one moment, dead the next.”

Lei nodded.

“Even though no one knew exactly what happened, it seemed clear enough that it was the work of one of the other seven beasts, and the Hippogriff Windguard was investigating it. Then, a week later, Rasial lost another mount-this time during the Kelsa Chase, a race with far lower stakes. The exact same thing, only this time he couldn’t get free in time. Luckily, it was a low altitude race, but he still broke his leg.”

Daine noticed a motion near the wall. There was a rat in the shadows, watching him. Daine was surprised to see rats in a place as stylish as the King of Fire. There was a pair of dice on the table, and he slipped one into his palm. With a quick motion he threw the die at the rat, striking it dead center. The rodent squeaked and scampered out of sight. Smiling, Daine turned his attention back to the conversation.

“Were any of Rasial’s opponents in this Kelsa race people who had ridden against him in Eight Winds?” Lei asked.

“Just one. Mulg Oranon, a hawk rider. But even the Hippogriff Windguard couldn’t find anything suspicious.”

“What happened next?”

“Rasial recovered from the injury, but he never returned to the races. There were rumors, but … well, it’s better not to say.”

Lei rubbed his hand. “Oh, come now, Dek. You know you can trust me.”

“They say he got involved with the Tarkanans, which doesn’t make any sense. He was a Gold Wing! But that’s what I heard.”

“Tarkanans?” Lei asked.

“A group of thieves and assassins. I don’t know much about them and I don’t want to. If you want someone dead by morning, the Tarkanans can make it happen. What Rasial could possibly have in common with those cutthroats, I couldn’t tell you. As far as I know, he never killed anyone, even in his tenure with the Watch. But last I heard, he’d been seen in their company.”

“Where could we find these Tarkanans, Dek?”

“Look. As a friend, I don’t know what your interest is here, but you don’t want to cross the Tarkanans. Whatever it is, just let it go.”

“Don’t worry, Dek. We’ll be all right. Where can we find them?”

Dek shivered, and for a moment his features shook like jelly. “I don’t know. Honest I don’t. I follow the races. I’m not a thug. I’ve heard … I’ve heard they’re somewhere in Dragon Towers, in the Central Plateau. But it’s not worth it. There are some things better left alone.”

“That’s enough,” Daine said, standing up. “We need to get moving, and we’ve got something to work with.”

“Thank you so much, Dek,” Lei said, with a brilliant smile. “I knew I could rely on you. If we ever can afford to put money on one of the races, we’ll certainly come to you.”

“Oh, my pleasure,” Dek said. “Anything for a friend. Here, I suppose you’d better take these back.” He tossed Daine the coins he’d been given earlier and smiled. “I’ll see you around.”