Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy) (10 page)

Looking at the now-empty pouch, she turned it over and over. It was well-made but there was nothing extravagant about it.
Where did that vial and my shiny four crowns go? This is the stuff I saw in it when I took it from him.
That thought stopped her for a moment.
This means that no one got into my room but somehow the items vanished and reappeared.
Looking at the clasp again she noticed that its inscription was circular. In fact it had an inner and outer ring that split what was already a very nice geometric pattern. Feeling the clasp she noted that it was very smooth, that the geometric pattern had five distinct outer areas, and that in each of these there was an invisible deformity in the surface. Her fingertips could feel slight indentions in each of the five areas and each section had a unique feel to it.
It must have something to do with these patterns I can feel.

Feeling along the center section shifted it slightly under the pressure of her finger. Sitting up, she looked closer. It was almost imperceptible, but the center of the pattern could rock back and forth slightly and it locked into position, requiring specific pressure at the top or bottom to shift it into the other position. Looking into the pouch with the center section pressed on the top or bottom changed nothing.
Why cut the pattern in half with a circle?
She looked closer and realized that if she rotated the outer portion of the clasp, each of the five outer areas where the circle cut them would still interconnect, making a slightly different but complete pattern. Meaning the pattern would be complete, but slightly different, in any one of five points if the outer portion was rotated.
Maybe it is meant to rotate.
Grabbing the clasp she tried to turn it without success.

Dang, I thought I had it.
She sat back, looking at it; then an idea came.
A rotating lock?
She pressed the bottom half of the center section. It rocked into place. Grabbing the outer ring she found it resisted moving slightly at first and then moved very easily. She turned it one fifth of a turn. It actually snapped into position, leaving the geometric pattern complete but slightly altered. In fact if she hadn’t been studying it for these minutes it would seem unchanged. She opened the pouch and looked inside. The pouch was no longer empty; it now held five vials with liquids in a wooden holder that had three empty slots, an assortment of cloths, and a set of quills tied with string.
Lady, this is amazing!

She tried to turn the outer ring again but it wouldn’t move. Closing the pouch, she tried again and it moved as easily as the first time. Opening the pouch again revealed it was full of papers. She pulled them out and found none of them made any sense.
I know I am not great at reading, but I don’t recognize anything here.
She spread the papers out on the large table. She could tell there were four separate authors by the handwriting. Beyond that there was not much else she could read. The only item she
could
read was a set of five rough maps drawn in an elegant hand. Two of the maps had reference points she recognized, one was of an area a long way west in the neighboring kingdom, and another map was of the part of the great forest to the north.

She stacked the papers and set them aside on the table, then closed and turned the latch again. It was still empty. Not sure if anything had happened, she repeated the process. This time she opened it and sighed with relief — there where her four shiny crowns, the vial of poison, and the key to the upper floor room.
This is really going to make carrying everything I need a lot easier.
Taking out the vial of poison, she scooped some of the coins back into the purse and put the purse and keys into the pouch. Turning the clasp to the next point she put everything back in except for the poison and notes. Then she turned the clasp to the next point and added the vial of poison to the other vials in one of the empty slots. Looking at the notes, she though,
No reason to leave them behind;
turning the clasp to the next position she put all the papers back inside. Finally, she turned it back to the position with the coin purse and the keys.

With a large smile she slipped the pouch back onto her belt and put the belt back on. Confirming the pouch was still holding her coins and keys she pressed the center of the clasp on the top. With it rocked into position the outer ring would not turn.
I was just rotating that outer part by accident. Lady, thanks to you for this good fortune.
She felt the indentions in the uppermost section.
These indentions are to tell which section is open without looking. I need to get three identical coin purses and maybe a pair of identical journals. I can keep different but reasonable amounts of coins in each purse but have one special one with the large value coins. With two identical journals I can have one which has very bad notes, hard to read maps of no value and pair it with one coin purse with a few rings and pence in it and leave that where the pouch is locked to normally. If I get captured or robbed they’ll get what they may have seen me with but it will be worthless. I can easily shift this to the more valuable purses or journal when I need to. With this I need give nothing away even if captured.

She thought back on the Knife.
I hope not every Knife is so well-equipped.
With that thought bouncing around in her head a shiver passed through her.
I really got lucky killing him the way I did. Now the world has one less Knife in it.
Feeling a little less remorse over her first kill, she stood and went to the door. Stepping out of her room, she made sure the door closed behind her. Glancing at the metal door opposite, she thought,
I really have bumped up to a new level. First a little shopping, then it will be time to earn some more coin and prove I really belong here.
She walked down the stairs and entered the main room. There were more Daggers present, and a few even acknowledged her directly. She returned the same courteous acknowledgements, which drew the attention of some other Daggers. Hairy and Frumpy were gone.
Hope they do well on their first fighting Dagger exercise.
She placed the upper room key on the counter near Genne, who nodded to her, took the key and continued his conversation.

“... can tell em’ jus’ what I said. I ‘avn’t seen Vestul n’two days, an’ his stuff is still up der an I’m clear ta nex’ cycle.”

The man Genne was talking to was obviously not taking the news well; in fact he looked a little sick. “But, he missed the meeting. Are you sure he didn’t come back?”

Genne’s look hardened, and the slightly shorter man caved in on himself. “Right, right, I got it, he went up for the night and left in the morning, didn’t return and isn’t in his room.” He pushed away from the bar and went out the door, mumbling, “Oh Lord he isn’t going to be happy; he really isn’t going to be happy.”

Missing customer, that can’t be too unusual. I need to find some coin purses.
With that thought she stepped out onto the now-busy main road and turned left to head for the market.

Chapter 4

Daggers on the tables

T
WO KNOCKS BOUNCED AROUND THE room. Opening one eye brought sharp pain from the too-bright sun shining in the half-open shutters. Closing his eyes, Lebuin rolled over, pulling one of the soft down pillows over his head. The coolness of the cream silk cover felt good. Two knocks again.
Maybe whoever it is will give up and go away.
Waiting for the expected knocks was dragging his mind out of the unconsciousness of sleep. The previous day’s events rolled around his head.

Oh Lord, what am I going to do? I have no idea what to do next. I have to leave, but, for what?
Concentrating, Lebuin tried to pull back any memories of what the teachers might have said about Journeyman requirements. Nothing was coming up. The effort brought him fully awake.
Why did no one mention this? Or was this something else everyone thought I knew so no one told me?
Too many questions, not enough answers. The bed was comfortable, the silk sheets resting on his skin, and it was warm. Closing his eyes he started to drift off back to sleep.

Two knocks bounced around the room.
Dang it, I don’t have classes, go away.
He waited, remembering Magus Cune’s evil smirk as he walked away after the ceremony.
The ceremony, that incantation with my creation was unexpected. It linked us somehow.
Remembering the feeling as the link was established, his training took over and he broke the memory down, recalling the precise feelings of the power and its interactions with his physical and mental bodies. With the interactions recalled he examined himself mentally and found the connection. A slim thread of a channel was present where none had been before. The incantation had imprinted on him just as if he had been an artifact.

Curiously he fed a little power from his core into the channel. A new awareness was added to his list of senses.
Interesting, I can feel every Magi around.
Playing with the new sense he realized there were slight flavors or colors or scents to each feeling.
Ah; I bet I can tell who is who if I pay enough attention to this and keep it active.
Deciding to refer to the variations in the sense as ‘scents’, Lebuin adjusted his mental state adding this new channel to the incantations he maintained continuously.
Now I just need to pay careful attention when I meet each Magus to learn their scent.

Two more knocks bounced around the room. Groaning, he sat up. “Who is it? I was asleep.”

“Journeyman Lebuin, please, your breakfast.”

Breakfast? I didn’t order any food. I thought it was another Mage.
Reaching out with his mind he released the inner locks on the door. An immaculately dressed servant smoothly opened the door while balancing the tray of food.
He is certainly well dressed. He looks quite respectable in the Guild uniform.
Looking a little closer, he thought,
And that is a very tidy uniform.
Closing the door behind him the servant moved to the side table and put the tray down. Handing Lebuin a cup of dark fluid he said, “Sorry it isn’t hot anymore. I have been circling for a mark waiting for you to answer the door.”

“I can warm it up.” Looking at the cold cup of arit Lebuin used a little magic to warm it.
Circling for a mark? That doesn’t make any sense. I know I am not fully awake yet.
He looked at the servant. “My Lord, Ditani, what are you doing here? I don’t recall seeing you for more than a year.”

Ditani smiled. “At least you remember me. Gezu wasn’t sure if you’d ever remember a servant.”

Lebuin’s back stiffened at the snide comment, the familiar use of Magus Gezu’s name, and the easy, familiar way Ditani spoke to him. “I can have you dismissed for that comment.”

Chuckling nervously, which made Lebuin even more irate, Ditani made a painful-looking smirk. “Wouldn’t it be most difficult to dismiss someone who doesn’t work for you?”

The majority of his conscious thoughts stopped on that comment. Taking a deep drink from the hot arit to give himself time to recover, Lebuin’s memory recalled Magus Cune’s last statement.
‘I placed a rather large bet you could complete the quest with a less-than-upstanding but influential friend of mine.’
Looking at the now-empty cup of arit, panic struck him.
Lord, did I just drink poison? Would he strike me so fast, and in the Guild itself?
Looking at Ditani closer, he saw what he had registered nearly unconsciously earlier — the uniform was immaculate. It had been carefully maintained in pristine condition. Further it fit Ditani extremely well, far better than most servants’ uniforms fit. Servant uniforms being standard, the Guild simply bought them in quantity in various sizes and the servants could pick and choose the closest fit. They rarely took the time to correct the fit. Ditani’s uniform had none of the normal signs of wear or stains. Obviously not new, it had been precisely tailored to Ditani’s form some time ago.
Would an assassin take the time to tailor a uniform?

Ditani simply stood watching Lebuin.
He doesn’t look malevolent. In fact he looks worried.
Lebuin felt more awake as the arit flowed into his system. Ditani’s eyes had deep bags as if he had not had much, if any, sleep. His complexion was also far whiter than would be normal, especially for a Karkaian.
No, he isn’t an assassin; in fact he is scared and worried about something. He dresses well and takes care of his clothes. Maybe I can help.
“Well if you aren’t a Guild servant, then you might as well sit down and tell me why you are here.”

Ditani looked timidly around and Lebuin helped him decide by pointing at a chair which slid a few feet to Ditani. Sitting, he looked pleadingly at Lebuin; then like a cork popping from a bottle of chantrose, he burst out, “I don’t know who to trust. I am not even sure if anything is wrong. He has only been missing since yesterday morning. Still he said he’d meet me and he didn’t. Then he didn’t make the appointment. When I checked the room he wasn’t there. I had to seek help. So I came here. I don’t know why, but I stopped at my cousin’s place to get one of my old uniforms. When I got here everyone was talking about how you had nearly killed Magus Cune and were going to advance. I wanted to talk to Varni to get help. But she has been dead since just after I left with Gezu’s last letter. Dead — first Gezu, then Varni is dead. It can’t be coincidence. I found Magus Crawstu, but she was talking to Magus Cune and I heard them say that with Magus Gezu dead there was none left to shelter you, leaving you in the dark. I fled and then I didn’t know who to trust. But, I remembered Gezu and Varni saying they liked you. They had to, what with the notes and all. With your new status I thought maybe you might be able to help. But then the ceremony was announced and Councilor Nillo ordered me to fetch you in the hall. Me, he just stopped me in the hall and asked. Can you believe that? He didn’t even notice who I was or that I had been gone. After that I couldn’t get you alone...”