The Clandestine Circle (37 page)

A dull, throbbing pain beat in Linsha’s head in time with the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. As consciousness slowly returned, she tried to groan and discovered the sound was muffled by a wad of fabric in her mouth. When she tried to spit it out, it remained held firmly in place by a strip of leather tied around her head. That fact surprised her. Opening her eyes, she saw little but darkness, yet the room and the vague shapes within it were familiar. Warily she lay still for a time and took inventory of her predicament.

She was lying, still unclothed, on the bed she had shared with Ian. A sudden thought occurred to her, and she looked frantically around for him. There were no bodies; she was alone. Did that mean he had done this to her and left her? Or had he been taken against his will?

She found her hands were tied together and fastened to the bedstead so tight she could barely move. There was no possibility of pulling or tearing or breaking those ropes. Her legs, too, were bound at the knees and ankles. Someone had even wrapped the sheet tightly around her. She was trussed like a fowl and left here. For how long?

For that matter, how long had she already been here?

Linsha closed her eyes, fighting to hold back the tears of
rage and frustration. She was a trained Knight. How could she have let herself get into this? And Ian, where was he? What was happening while she lay here tied to the bed like a sacrificial virgin?

She couldn’t cry out for help. She couldn’t move or reach her weapons or do anything to get herself out of this mess. She needed help … and fast.

Varia, her mind thought wildly. Had Varia returned yet? She knew the owl was telepathic at short distances, but she didn’t know if Varia was clairvoyant enough to receive a cry for help from a long distance. It was worth a try.

She relaxed her body, letting each muscle ease into loose stillness until she could feel only her heart beat, slow and soothing, in her chest. She focused on the heartbeat, on the power within its steady rhythm, and slowly she began to pull that power to her will. Warmth pervaded her limbs, driving away the pain in her head and hands. Energy flowed through her in a tingling, invigorating surge.

She stretched out with her mind, sending her power outward in a call to Varia.
I am here. Bring help
. She repeated the words over and over, like a litany, and projected them as best she could in the direction of the palace and the barn. As time passed and nothing happened, her desperation grew stronger and her power responded, rippling out from the house in a steady flow like the beacon light at Pilot’s Point.

What felt like hours passed, and there was no sign of the owl or anyone else. Despair coiled around Linsha’s heart, and her hope began to wane.
I’m here
, she tried one last time.
Please come
.

The waterfront was nearly deserted at that time of night. Even the gaming houses were quiet and the taverns were closed. A few lights burned in windows where families nursed their sick or guarded their homes. The City Guard patrols passed silently through the streets and every now and again chased looters out of stores or houses.

Mica paid little attention to the city around him except for landmarks he used to find his way in the dark. His one drawback as an operative for the Legion was his tendency to be single-minded when he was possessed with an idea. This night, his idea led him directly to the end of the long southern pier. He bypassed several piles of crates and barrels to be hauled into the city in the morning and found a seat on the very edge of the long pier. His legs dangled into darkness, and beneath his feet, the restless water surged about the pylons.

Out in the bay, he saw three galleys swinging peacefully at their moorings and a flock of smaller fishing craft and pleasure boats scattered across the harbor. A number of freighters rode high in the water near the northern pier, waiting for life to return to normal in Sanction and shipping to resume.

Mica lifted his eyes and looked far out in the bay, where the guards had burned the
Whydah
and the ill-fated merchantman. There. Out there. He closed his eyes now and made himself comfortable. His mind relaxed and emptied of all thoughts but one, Captain Emual Southack. The captain’s spirit was probably close to the ship he loved, and using the power of his heart, Mica hoped to summon him long enough to answer a few questions.

Spiritualism, one of the paths of mysticism, was not something Goldmoon encouraged, for it could be dangerous and often tempting, but Mica had tried it before successfully and felt he could attempt it tonight. The only drawback was it always left him drained and exhausted for several hours afterward. Still, Mica decided that little side effect was worth the effort if it led him to some answers. He focused on his heartbeat and murmured a few dwarvish phrases he liked to use to settle his concentration, then he slowly let his senses drift outward toward the place where the ships and their dead lay beneath the water. He shaped his magic into a call and sent it rippling outward from this world into the world beyond in a summons that opened the door and invited the captain to answer.

Nothing happened at first, and Mica directed more energy
into the enchanted plea. He reached his senses deep into the water, where the darkness was impenetrable and the rotting bones of dozens of ships lay in the mud of the bay. His mind touched the charred remains of the
Whydah
and the ship from Palanthas, and he felt a connection made.

Captain Southack
, he called again.

A hushed sound, like the summer wind, blew past him.
I am here
.

Mica caught the faintest scent of salt water and charred wood. He opened his eyes. In front of him hovered an image of a man dressed in dark pants and a short coat over a vest of red silk.

Captain Southack? I need to ask you something
.

I am coming!
The cry echoed so faintly in the recesses of Linsha’s tired mind she did not recognize it at first. It came again, a little louder and a little closer.

The lady Knight lifted her head.
Varia? I am here. Upstairs
.

I am coming
came the call, as clear as the courtyard bell.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and Linsha heard a familiar voice ask, “In here? Are you sure?”

She struggled wildly to answer, but she didn’t need to. Varia’s voice hooted and cried and trilled in an ecstatic response.

“All right, all right,” said Shanron’s puzzled voice. “I’ll get it open.”

The old lock on the door was no match for the determined kick of the guard woman’s boot heel. The door crashed open, and Varia flew arrow-straight into the bedroom and circled over Linsha’s bed. Shanron followed a little more slowly as if she still wasn’t convinced anyone was there. She stepped into the bedroom, saw Linsha, and bolted to the bed.

“By the gods, Lynn. Who did this to you?” she cried, kneeling by the bed. With her dagger, she hacked through the bond around Linsha’s hands and legs and carefully cut the leather gag.

Linsha wrenched off the ropes and slammed them to the floor in a burst of pent-up fury. Clutching the sheet, she tried to stand up. But her legs had been tied too long and were numb from the ropes. She staggered sideways as feeling rushed back into her limbs in a burning, prickling cascade.

Shanron caught her and pushed her down to sit on the edge of the bed. “Slow down,” she admonished. “Take a deep breath and let the blood back into your feet.”

Calmer now, Varia came to land on the headboard. She leaned over, her eyes huge, her feathers fluffed to twice their normal size. “What happened? What are you doing here?” she hooted loudly.

Feelings of anger, relief, and self-recrimination poured out of Linsha in a spate of words while she told her friends what had happened.

Shanron flipped her long braid over her shoulder and gave her a lascivious grin. “Ian Durne, huh?”

Varia refrained from saying “I told you so” only because she didn’t know where the commander could be. She was willing to accept the possibility he was a victim of foul play, but she wouldn’t believe it until she saw his body.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Linsha said when she finished her tale. She tried her legs again, and this time she could stand upright without help.

Her clothes were still on the floor, but her sword and daggers were gone. Stabbed by worry, she thrust her hand into her boot and found, to her relief, the dragon scale and packet still inside. She hung the scale back around her neck and sighed in relief. She had grown used to the scale and the smooth feel of it against her skin. She vowed she wouldn’t take it off again for anyone until it was time to return it to Lord Bight.

As she hurried into her clothes, Linsha looked curiously at Shanron. “How was it you came with Varia?” she asked.

Shanron glanced at the owl and laughed. “That bird nearly scared the wits out of me.”

Varia shrugged her wings. “I was a bit abrupt.”

“Abrupt! I was in the hayloft giving the cat a midnight
snack when out of nowhere this hysterical owl dropped like a missile into the hay and started screeching something about helping you. Well, the cat ran like a fiend, and I nearly bolted up the rafters. I’ve never had an owl yell at me. What kind of an owl is this, anyway?”

“I was not yelling. I was trying to make you listen.” Varia hopped off the headboard and walked deliberately over the bed to Linsha’s side. “You scared me. I did not know you could summon me like that.”

Linsha gave her boot a last tug, then gently scratched the owl’s neck. “Neither did I,” she said softly. She clasped Shanron’s arm with painful urgency. “Thank you, both of you. I’m afraid I still need you. Something evil is going to happen, and soon. That packet you gave me warned that the Dark Knights would attack the city when the volcano erupts. I think we’d better find Lord Bight.”

Varia bobbed her head. “You were right about the ships. There is a fleet gathering at the mouth of the bay. They’re decked out like pirate ships, but if those are pirates, I’m a pigeon.”

Linsha held out her forearm for the owl to ride, and the three left the apartment, closing the door firmly behind them. Night still ruled the streets of Sanction, and all was deathly quiet. The moon had risen, casting its waxing light on the world below.

“Do you know where Lord Bight is?” Linsha asked Shanron as they hurried through the dark streets.

Shanron thought a moment, then answered, “No. I just got off duty an hour ago. He may be at the palace, but I’m not sure.”

“We’ll try there first. They’ll know where he is.”

The two women walked faster, past the bazaar and onto the road that led toward the two hills. Varia flew ahead from trees and rooftops and kept a close watch on the road ahead and behind. They left the streets and the big houses behind and entered the wooded strip of road leading up to the palace. The moonlight was dim there, little more than speckled patches of quicksilver on the path. The woods
thinned, and Linsha and Shanron could see the torches on the walls of the palace flicker through the trees ahead.

Out of the shadows in front of them, they heard Varia’s blood-chilling screech of anger. The scream shocked them both and sent their hearts racing. Linsha reached for her sword and grabbed only her belt.

“What was
that?”
Shanron exclaimed.

Without answering, Linsha hurried off the road to a small clearing nearly lost in the night-dark shadows under the trees. Varia screeched again: “On the ground in front of you.”

Linsha’s foot snagged on something solid and heavy that tripped her forward. She caught herself on a sapling before she fell, sprawling, and dropped down beside the thing. Her hands reached out, touched fabric, leather, and something warm and wet. She couldn’t see who it was in the thick darkness.

“What is it?” Shanron hissed. She groped across the uneven ground to come up beside her.

“Not what. Who!”

“Oh, no,” mourned the guardswoman. “Not again.”

A voice, barely above a whisper, spoke out of the darkness. “Alley Cat?”

“Mica?” Linsha cried out. Shaken, she touched his face and felt his bearded jaw. “Mica, oh, gods of all. Hold still. Let me help.”