The City of Towers

CHAPTER 28

The common room of the Manticore was nearly empty. Dassi the innkeeper had provided Daine, Pierce, and Lei with a battered deck of cards, and they’d been playing three stones for the length of a bell.

“He’s an hour late,” Lei said, crossing the king of fire with the alchemist.

“So?” Daine said. After a moment’s thought, he picked up the alchemist of fire and replaced it with one of his water cards. “Jode’s dealt with Darguuls, Valenar warriors, agents of the Citadel. What are you afraid of?”

“Well, for a start, most basilisks have two eyes. So who’s got the other one?”

“Good point.”

“Where did he go, anyway?”

“It must have been something Alina said. I remember he had a strange look on his face at one point … Aureon’s blood! I can’t remember what it was.”

“Could he have gone back to see her?” Lei drew a card.

“It is unlikely,” Pierce said. “I was able to follow him for a short time, and he moved directly to a lift. It departed before I reached it, and by the time it returned the trail was impossible to follow.” It seemed to Daine that Pierce had been slightly distant since they met up at the Manticore, but as always it was difficult to read the moods of the warforged.

“Do you think that he came back here?” Lei asked.

“There’s no way to know, my lady.”

“I’m not a Cannith anymore, Pierce,” Lei said. “I don’t have a title.”

“You will always be my lady,” the warforged said.

Lei smiled. “At least I still have that.” She considered her cards and then looked up. “You know, I’ve never actually asked you, Pierce, when were you constructed?”

“I was part of the second legion, my lady, forged in the nine hundred and sixty-eighth year of the kingdom.”

“That’s when I was born!” she said. “The second legion … so Aaren d’Cannith himself would have worked on you.”

“I never learned the names of my creators,” Pierce said. “Is this of interest?”

“I don’t know. The sphinx asked you about it, didn’t she? Maybe that’s what she meant when she asked about your parents.”

“I suppose. And have you had any insight about your brothers?”

“No, that still doesn’t make any sense.”

“And I still haven’t lost anything,” Daine pointed out. “Perhaps she was just playing games.”

“It’s certainly possible,” Lei said. “But what are the stakes? Who’s she playing against?”

“Three stones is normally played for silver,” Pierce said. “And yet we are playing with no coins. Is the satisfaction of victory not sufficient reward?” He drew and then started a cascade, covering the board with water cards. The others sighed and threw down their cards.

Greykell showed up as the fifth bell was ringing. “Well met, my friends!” she said, driving the air from Daine’s chest with a powerful embrace. She went around the table, hugging each of them in turn. “And have you had a productive day?”

“No one’s tried to kill us for an hour,” Daine said. “Any news on Hugal?”

“You mean Monan? No, not yet, I’m afraid. That’s why I stopped by. I’m still going through my rounds, and I have a few more places to check. Obviously I could use your support, but I also thought it would be a chance for you to meet more of our people.”

Daine shrugged and set down his cards. “Why not? The only reason I haven’t lost all of my money to Pierce is because I didn’t have any to begin with.”

“Come by the militia tent tomorrow night,” Greykell said, slapping Pierce on the shoulder. “We’re always looking for a few good players, and I assure you, my imaginary money is every bit as good as Daine’s.”

“I think I’ll stay here,” Lei said. “There’s an alchemical formula I’ve been trying to perfect, and I want to take another look at the information we have about the stolen shards.”

“Oh, come along,” Greykell said, pulling the smaller woman up and out of her chair. “The splendor of High Walls awaits you!”

After a little more encouragement, Lei agreed to join the expedition. Pierce agreed as well, stringing his massive bow.

“There are still many dangers in this area,” he said. “I believe it is best if we remain together.”

“That’s the spirit!” Greykell said. She studied the markings on Pierce’s torso plating. “Second legion, right? ‘Sword and Steel. We Stand As One.’”

“That was the motto of the legion, yes. Most of the legion was dispersed among the human units. I rarely fought alongside my own kind.”

Greykell smiled and shrugged. “Well, stand as one with us humans.” She turned to the others. “Now let’s go looking for your evil twin.”

Although Cyran refugees made up the vast bulk of the population of High Walls, people of many nationalities had found their way into the district. During the height of the war, High Walls had served as a prison in all but name, a place where people of questionable loyalty could be concentrated into a single location. As they wandered through the maze of alleys surrounding the district, Greykell stopped frequently to check on the various families and clans that lived in the decrepit old buildings. A Lhazaar patriarch insisted that they taste his cold fish stew, and a former siege engineer from Karrnath eagerly discussed the science of fortifications with Lei. Greykell seemed to know everyone in the district, and everyone they met wanted to talk. Time passed in a blur of war stories, local gossip, and health problems. Greykell celebrated the triumphs and sympathized with the misfortunes. Often she was able to solve the problems of the most miserable. One man knew of openings in one of the foundries beneath the city. Another had lost his job because of a bigoted Brelish foreman. It soon became clear why Greykell had asked Lei to come along. She’d picked up on Lei’s skill as an artificer and convinced her to fix broken tools and furniture. She wove a web of connections across the community, and Daine was impressed by her knowledge and charisma.

But there was no sign of Hugal.

“Did you actually expect to find Hugal in there?” Daine said. They’d just emerged from a tenement inhabited by a mixed family of orcs and humans from the Shadow Marches.

“No,” Greykell admitted cheerfully. “But you never know with changelings, do you? I’m just following my usual path. I believe the most likely place to find your friend is up ahead.”

“Do you do this every day?” Lei asked.

“More or less. When I arrived, there was a lot of tension in High Walls. The Karrns hated the Thranes, they both hated the Cyrans, and everyone hated the Lhazaarites. That’s still there, though most of the people conceal it around me to be polite. People don’t change in a day, but progress is being made. The war is over. And more importantly, we’re not Cyrans and Karrns any more. If this is where we’re going to stay, then we need to start thinking of ourselves as the people of Sharn.”

“I don’t see the Brelanders welcoming you with open arms.”

“I didn’t say citizens of Breland. I said people of Sharn. I’m not asking you to forget Cyre, Daine. I just want you to put the welfare of your neighbors ahead of a nation you’ll never see again.”

Daine frowned. There was some sense to what she said, but he’d spent the last ten years fighting Brelanders and Karrns, and it was hard to let that anger go in a day. And despite the months he spent in the Mournlands, it was hard to accept that Cyre truly was gone forever.

“And what does Councilor Teral think about this?” he asked.

“Teral and I don’t always see eye to eye, but he’s done a great deal to hold the community together. He brought a large number of survivors out of the Mournland, and it was his gold that paid for many of the tents in the square. If you ask me, it doesn’t do us any good to pretend that Cyre will return. But Ambassador Jairen agrees with Teral.” She shrugged.

“Jairen? You mean we still have an ambassador?”

Greykell nodded. “With so many Cyran refugees in the city, the mayor decided to allow the embassy to remain open. It doesn’t have any real power, but they’ve been helping people find work, track down family members … that sort of thing. More or less what I do every day. They’re just dealing with Karrnath itself instead of the families of Karrn veterans.”

“Hmm.”

Greykell stopped walking for a moment. “All right, this is our final stop. Watch your step.”

They were standing outside an old tenement building. The door had been torn from its hinges and was nowhere to be seen, and most of the windows were covered with boards.

“You think this is where we’ll find Hugal?” Daine said, reaching for his sword.

Greykell caught his hand and pushed the blade back into its sheath. “Maybe. But what I meant was ‘watch your step.’ The floors on some of the upper levels have been known to give way. How are you with structural engineering, Lei?”

Lei shrugged.

“They call this place Dolurrh’s Doorstep,” Greykell said, leading them through the shattered doorframe. “It’s one of the oldest Cyran enclaves in the district. A tent in the square would be safer, but the people here have their own sense of community. You’ll see.”

The hallway reeked of sweat and urine. There was an emaciated old woman dressed in a rotting robe stretched out on the floor of the atrium, and for a moment Daine thought she was dead. When she turned to look at them, her eyes were glazed and staring.

“Dreamlily,” Greykell whispered. “Aureon only knows how the people here afford it.” She walked over to the old woman and pulled her to her feet. “Syllia,” Greykell said. “Why don’t I take you back to your family?”

The old woman gazed at Greykell without recognition. “I’m comfortable,” she said in a cracked, reedy voice. “Nothing touches me here.”

Daine glanced at Lei, who shrugged. He wondered if Jode could do anything for the woman. He doubted it. The power of Jode’s dragonmark had little effect on mental afflictions.

“Come along, Syllia,” Greykell said, taking her arm. “Let’s get you home.”

“You’re always willing to lend a hand, aren’t you?”

Daine turned to face the new voice. Three people had just come in from the street. The speaker was a massive man, almost as large as Pierce. Daine guessed he had some orc blood in his veins, though it didn’t show on his features. All three were dressed in stained and ragged clothing, and the leader was carrying a club of polished wood.

“We take care of our own,” he said, and his deep voice was a live with anger.

He gestured and one of his companions came forward-a shifter, her fur filthy and matted, her fangs showing signs of rot and decay. She pulled Syllia away from Greykell and dragged her down the hall.

“Doras!” Greykell said cheerfully. “Just the person I wanted to see.” She walked to the angry man as if to give him a hug, but Doras moved his cudgel between them.

“I’ve told you before,” he said. “I don’t want you here.” He glared at Daine and spat at his feet. “Or your pathetic lapdogs.”

Daine moved forward, but Greykell stopped him.

“Is there a problem?” Daine snapped.

Doras pushed Greykell aside and stepped up to Daine. He was at least four inches taller than Daine, and heavily muscled. Contempt surrounded him like a cloud.

“Yes, there is a problem. Our homeland has been destroyed. Our world could be coming to an end. And you, soldier-you who failed in your sworn duty to protect our people-dare to come into my home and pretend you can help us now?” He looked over at Greykell. “You and your kind had your chance to protect the people. Instead, your little war destroyed our land. And you think you can make it better by helping a man get a job making swords for Brelish soldiers? You disgust me.”

“And where were you when my men were dying on the Brelish border?” Daine said. Greykell kept her hand on his arm, holding him back.

“I was tending the fields that fed your armies. And I never failed in my duty. Can you say the same?”

The third man-a lean half-elf with terrible burns across much of his exposed flesh-stepped forward. “We trusted you, soldier,” he said. “And this … this is what you did for me. The end is coming. And you bloodthirsty fools opened the door.”

Greykell moved in front of Daine, raising her hands. “Fine. You’re right. We should have won the war. But what does this anger get you, Doras? Where will it take you?”

For a moment, Daine thought Doras was going to hit her; his knuckles whitened against his club. Finally, he loosened his grip. “What do you want? I told you I never wanted to see you here.”

“I’m looking for someone,” Greykell said. “I’m sure you remember Hugal? Or Monan? Either one will do.”

“I haven’t seen either in over a day,” Doras said, his eyes narrowed. “Why? Have you found them work as street performers?”

“Actually, you’d be surprised,” Greykell said. “I think they’d have a real knack for it. But I was wondering … did they have any friends? Other people who haven’t been seen recently?”

“No. There are no friends here. Only survivors.”

Greykell rolled her eyes. “Life is miserable and hard. You’ve lost everything. I hear you. And you know what? I’ve lost everything too. But whatever you may think, it’s not the end of the world. We just need to let go of the past and embrace the future. To begin again.”

“Very inspiring. But have you been to the ruins of Cyre? Have you seen what the war has left behind? If you’d seen what I’ve seen, you’d understand. We’ve seen the end, and it’s only just beginning.”

“Well, it’s always a pleasure, Doras. If you don’t want to see us here, I suppose we had best be on our way. Just one more thing. Do you know old Hila, the seamstress? Has she ever come around?”

Doras’s eyes were as cold as stones. “No.”

“Great!” Greykell took Daine’s arm and pulled him out to the street. “And please, do something for Syllia, will you? She can’t keep on like this.”

Doras said nothing.

“So what did you think?”

Night had fallen, and Greykell was leading the way back to the Manticore.

“Do you think that man is working with Hugal?” Lei asked.

“It’s possible that Doras is Hugal,” Greykell said. “Changelings, remember? But truthfully, I don’t know what to think. I’ve known Doras for a few months now. He has a loud voice, and the people of Dolurrh’s Door adore him … but I don’t know. He likes to provoke, but I’ve never actually seen him take the first swing in a fight-and he seemed to have both his hands.”

“I wish Jode had been there,” Daine said. “He’s got an amazing sense of people.”

Greykell shrugged. “Well, he certainly seemed suspicious. I just didn’t think that it was going to help to press the discussion. I’d rather try to go back sometime when he isn’t around, sometime when we can take your Jode with us.”

Daine nodded.

“Well, I’m dining with the Sorans in the square tonight,” Greykell said. “One of the benefits of being a professional busybody. There’s almost always someone having a meal somewhere. The Manticore is just around the bend. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow!” She hugged them each in turn and then disappeared down one of the dark sidestreets.

The group turned the corner, and the Manticore came into view. A familiar figure was sitting on the doorstep-Hugal or Monan, Daine didn’t know, but it was one of them for certain. In an instant, Daine’s blades were in his hands. His companions paused, curious, but did not draw their weapons.

“Hello, Daine,” the twin said. “It seems we have some unfinished business.”