Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy) (16 page)

She smiled and pointed across the street and down a bit toward an alley. “Through there. Fair night to thee, lady.”

Ticca put the tobac and cigars in her pack. Swinging it over her shoulder she walked down the street and turned into the narrow alley, looking for signs.
At night this would have been totally dark. It is the fastest way back to the Dolphin, though, so he was heading that way.
Halfway between streets the alley twisted through a quick elbow bend where the buildings didn’t line up straight. Just around the corner there was a slightly blackened spot on the ground next to the building. Something about it was out of place, so she bent down for a closer look.

Squatting down, she looked it over carefully. The coloration was from blackish soot mixed by the rain with the dust and dirt; it looked like a fire had been lit there some time ago. Small items poked up from under the layer of soot. Using her dagger she poked around in the ashes. The first things she found were some bits of violet cloth, badly charred. Looking around again at the patch she was squatting in, she saw it was large enough to have been a body. Remembering the Knife from earlier, she felt a little queasy. Picking up the cloth, she sniffed it and was revolted by the same stench of charred flesh she had smelled earlier in the market.

Standing, she moved out of the patch respectfully, setting down the burnt violet cloth.
Lady of Light, is this all that remains of the wizard? Everyone thinks they’re so invulnerable.
Another ripple under the ashes caught her eye, and this time she remained off the patch while poking at the spot with her dagger; it was the clay bowl of a fine-looking pipe. Looking around for some explanation, she saw the faint signs, mostly washed away by the rain.

Her mind pulled all the signs together into a clear picture. Attacked from behind, he’d stumbled, bleeding, against the building. He was slashed again from behind. He tried to brace himself against the building, turning to face his attacker, and then fell forward face down. At the edge of the building just next to where Magus Vestul had braced himself, hidden slightly by some garbage, was an open brown paper packet. Picking it up, she smelled the same pipe tobac she had just bought.

Looking back at the black ashes, she thought,
This has to be the Night’s Fire that assassins and spies use to eliminate bodies. I didn’t believe Uncle or my trainer when they told me it would remove the body and evidence so fast it couldn’t be stopped. The only reason this is still here is because it is sheltered from the wind, and it rained, cementing it here instead of washing it completely away. A couple more days and there would have been nothing to find here. Lebuin is in real danger, having been targeted. I need to be careful getting him out of there.

Moving fast, she went to the Dolphin, dropped off her pack and purchases and changed into her night-hunter’s shirt and leggings. Leaving her full cloak, she chose to wear the camouflage cloak only. In the light it looked like a simple full-length dark grey cloak with a soft knit pattern of darker threads, but if she found the right spot she could look like a rock or shadow and be practically invisible. It was also slightly magical, so it kept her dry and warm against the elements. It had been a gift from her trainer when she left for Llino. She kept the new boots on, too; they would make climbing much easier. From her pack she added a blow gun with drugged darts, which she tucked into a special pocket at her back that kept it out of sight and comfortable; unless she had to lay down flat on her back. Putting the knife-belt and the new pouch back on over the shirt, she left with a purpose for Temple Street.

It was still early evening; the sun had only just started to head down over the horizon when she came to Temple Street from the market. Instead of walking on in she milled at the edge of the market with some shoppers and critically evaluated every possible hiding spot and person present.
You are here, I know it. There was too much public activity for even a new Knife to miss.
She bought something from a vendor and then crossed to another vendor, covertly throwing the purchase between the tents. As she haggled with the other vendor over the price of some silly earrings she spotted what she was looking for. A peasant worker who had earlier left came back around carrying the same heavy bag. Except he wasn’t sweating and spent a lot of time moving down an aisle that gave him full view of the temple hospice’s entry stairs. When he turned off at the last aisle, obviously moving fast to circle back she spotted another. A man sat leaning against a pole and he stood up and took over the watch while the other circled. When the bag carrier came into view, the second man stretched, yawned, and sat back down, going to sleep.

She maneuvered to a position where she could see both and get a clear shot off at the sleeper. When the one with the bag turned out again the sleeper awoke, stood and leaned against the pole. She slowly drew the blowgun behind her back, under the cloak, pretending to look at some jewelry. Loading it, she waited. As the bag carrier stepped out, the sleeper laid down to doze again. She moved casually into position, brought the blow gun out, and shot the sleeper square in the back. He jumped and reached back, pulling out the needle. The bag carrier didn’t see this, hidden as he was from the view by the tent flap until the end of his circuit. The sleeper, seeing what it was, groggily tried to get up, but fell flat — well and truly asleep now. Ticca smiled as she put away the blowgun and casually strolled back toward the market entrance. The moment the bag carrier turned out of sight she sprinted to the hospice. Stepping inside the hospice door she carefully looked back, remaining hidden, and made sure that the bag carrier had not come back in time to see her. Smiling as she saw him continue his observation loop, she turned to where Lebuin was sitting up, talking with Ditani.

Both men stopped talking as she walked up. Lebuin stared at her as she approached. She noticed his eyes roamed her body like greedy hands.
Well now, aren’t you just the typical male. You’re going to have to work real hard if you want more than a look.
Snorting at his reaction to her tight clothing, she took on a more commanding posture.
Hope this works. I need to be seen as an authority up front or else I’ll be his work horse.

Using the ‘commander’ tone and inflections, she informed him, “There are Knives on your tail already. Of course, that wasn’t really all that hard with the commotion you made. Our next trick will be to get you out of here without them seeing it.”

Ditani looked at her hopefully. “Did you find anything of Magus Vestul?”

My Lady, please, not right now. I need them both to be thinking about now, not two days ago.
Keeping her voice even, she said, “We can talk about that when we are someplace safe. I took out one of the two observers. The Knife is likely waiting to ambush you on the way back to the Guild; instead I am going to take you by a longer, more circular route to the Dolphin. We can plan your next move there.” Her Uncle’s voice echoed in the back of her head.
‘Establish the relationship and price; and then do the work.’

Remembering his purse, she sent up a small prayer this would work.
I need to earn the wages due a Dagger table-owner.
“Journeyman Lebuin, your man authorized any price to get you here, and then to help with your search. I don’t expect that offer to extend beyond this moment. I took two crosses, one for my services today, and the second to cover needed bribes. If you desire me to remain your Dagger, I expect six crosses a week, in advance. Agreed?” Lebuin inspected her dagger. She kept her eyes calm.
Please say yes, or at least don’t demand something much less.
He looked her in the face and nodded. Hiding her pleasure, she thought,
Oh Lady, thank you. Now let’s stay alive long enough to spend the coin.

Looking at Lebuin’s condition, she frowned.
I doubt he can move fast enough to get safely out.
“Do you think you can run right now?”

Chapter 6

Time will tell

T
HERE WAS ONLY THE VOID, but he wasn’t scared anymore. There was no sensation at all other than thought.
Where am I? Is this death?
Time passed, or maybe it didn’t. Lebuin considered the situation. He recalled being attacked by an assassin. The memory of it brought it clearly to his mind. He was able to examine it in detail. The girl, the energies, his responses, the details of a man burning into a pile of coal...It was all clear to him, all of it.

What was the reason for it all?
More images; he recalled classes at the Guild. He remembered marks spent pouring over old tomes. He also remembered other classes where there were more than just a student and teachers. Memories he had forgotten came back clearly, as if he were reliving them. The time he was five and he started exploring the Guild. He found he could use a little magic to unlock the door the teachers used. There was a lot more to the place than the little wing where he lived. He spent weeks sneaking around exploring before he was caught. Instead of being angry, they just left the door unlocked, with the condition that he not play with the other kids unless two teachers were present. He was young and didn’t listen. One of the bigger kids pushed him, as kids will do, he had gotten mad and magic flowed. Magi had come pouring out of every doorway at the sounds of kids screaming and five of them quickly blocked his view of the results. They had rushed him off, lightly chastising him for not listening, but smiling and making him feel better. He hadn’t thought of that event again, but after that none of the kids would play with him and most ran away when he appeared.

Now that he could replay the memory in detail he saw that the five mages who had taken him away all had fear in their eyes. It wasn’t until the Grand Magi had appeared with some candy to soothe him that they relaxed. Looking back over that memory with his more experienced and adult point of view, he knew he had released a tremendous amount of energies, more than should have been possible for such a young child. Three of the other kids had been seriously wounded by the backlash. The older boy who had pushed him looked like Magus Cune, except much younger. He had seen that boy thrown back into a wall like a doll before tears had blurred his vision. A young Magus Cune had rushed out in the yard and been screaming for help as he had picked up the limp body of the boy.
My Lord, did I kill Magus Cune’s son? Is that why he hates me so much?
Going over his memories, he couldn’t find any others of an older apprentice that looked like Magus Cune.

They had kept me isolated for everyone’s protection. That is why there were always Magi nearby. The other apprentices must have been talking about me for years.
Fear in the eyes, smiles on the faces, always soft tones, always careful handling. It wasn’t until he had matured and gained control of his emotions that they slowly began to relax, to trust. Eventually they put him in the regular programs.
They needed to train me but were afraid of the results. I was so isolated; no friends, no companions, just the older mages and my family.
The thought of his family brought images of his father and surprisingly his real mother; she sang a strange lullaby in the void. If he could he would have smiled at the memory. More came — he remembered how she prepared his meals and how she always sang as she worked. She was an amazing seamstress; she wove her own cloth, singing songs to him in his cradle. He remembered her talking with his father, both of them buzzing with happiness about her pregnancy. For nine cycles he had shared his mother’s joy and happy songs. But, even now, the songs were in a language he has never heard since. He wondered what language it was.

A presence joined him. He didn’t know how he knew it, he just did. He wasn’t alone.

“Lebuin, hold, you must hold.” It wasn’t a voice, but it had a sound, if sound could move in this place. It also had emotion. Lebuin could feel the anguish, worry, and sorrow that the other felt.

“Where am I?”

“Between. You must hold. You must fight back. Lebuin, hold.” Anguish and a deep regret at having to make the request came as well.

“I don’t understand.”

“Look for the thread. Hold, you must hold.”

Concentrating, he tried to see, but there was only the void. “I can’t see anything. Hold to what?”

“Open yourself, you will find the thread.” Like a sharing of memories and experiences, he understood then that he had to share himself with this place. Now that it had been explained he realized he was actually shielding himself unconsciously. Opening himself, the void was replaced by a mesmerizing swirl of colors, feelings, and energies. It was beautiful; he relaxed and simply enjoyed the flows.

“Hold, you must hold.” Lebuin recognized love under the anguish and guilt and knew the presence was deeply concerned for him. The presence was a bright swirl of energy with four tendrils wrapped around him, as in an embrace. “Do you perceive?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Here. You must fight, follow this, you must hold.” And with those words came understanding.

Finally, he saw the faint, silvery thread. It looked very fine, like a spider’s thread. He didn’t have a body here, yet the thread came out of him and it stretched off into the distance. The thread was playing out like a fishing line. He tried to grab it, but nothing really happened.
Thoughts are what rule here. This is not a physical place.
He tried again; this time he used his will, as he would to use a telekinetic formula. It worked, and immense pain flared through his mind. He screamed but no sound came. He felt the burns on his arms and chest, and worse, the knife in his chest. He let go and the pain vanished.

“Hold, you must hold.”

“The pain is too much. I’m dying. It’s done.”

“No. We act.” He understood; many entities were pushing at agents, urging haste to his aide. He understood that this was immensely dangerous to all. The presence was being careful to not share how. “Hold. You must hold.”