Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy) (3 page)

Shrugging, she decided it was too late to do anything about it.
No rush tonight, and I earned this
. She leaned against the wooden back of the bench, which was smoothed and rounded from years of customers doing just this. Ticca slowly finished the remains of her meal and savored the last half of her mug of hyly.

Standing, she maneuvered over to the bar. Genne, the owner, came over, after a minute. He looked her over very slowly from head to foot.
Any other man, and I’d be pulling my dagger for taking that long a look. But from Genne, I know it’s an assessment of performance.
“Trust d’work was good tonight. D’ya wanna bath or jus’ t’bed?” She felt taller at his tone.
He thinks I did well enough tonight.

Smiling with satisfaction, she asked, “Is the water hot?” She pulled a pence from her purse and held it where he could see it.

“Ah, d’boy c’n add more coal if’n ya want.”

She handed over the coin with a smile. “I want. Let Ellar know I’ll be there shortly.” Genne closed and opened his hand, and the coin was gone, replaced by a silver key stamped with a pattern. Taking the key from Genne’s palm, she turned and started climbing the six-foot-wide stone steps that started next to the bar, and circled all the way up to the platform four stories overhead. Where the coin had vanished to, she wasn’t sure.
I know Genne was raised in this inn. His family has owned the Blue Dolphin for generations, and he is an important part of Dagger actions here. Still, he must have had an interesting past, to be able to pull little tricks like that.

She climbed three stories to the pair of large, warehouse-style, sliding doors at the top, which had an aging sign warning people to clear the platform as fast as possible, should the Emerald Heart pull into port. She smirked at the sign.
As if that would ever happen again.
She walked down the quiet hall to her room. Seeing her hair check still in place in the upper corner, she unlocked the door. As she opened the door, her left hand gripped her knife hilt, and she cautiously checked for intruders before stepping in.

A little paranoid tonight
, she thought as she lit the small oil lamp that served as the only light source in the room. She pulled out some cleaner clothes from her pack on the floor. Laying the newly-acquired boots, belt, and pouches on her bed, she exited again, putting the hair check in a different spot, after the door closed. Turning to the stairs, she saw a couple of people heading down the opposite hallway. She locked the door again and went back down to the baths.

She found the door with a matching symbol to the key Genne had given her. She unlocked the door and stepped in quickly so as to not let too much steam out. Ellar was there, pouring some steaming water into the tub. Finishing, he turned to go down the back stairs to the kitchens, and let out a small squeak of surprise at seeing her in the room, which made her giggle warmly.

“I...I...I... Um, I’m sorry m’lady. I... I didn’t hear you come in.” He obviously wanted to move, but his body was frozen in fear.

“Ellar, relax.” She sighed and stepped toward him. That unfroze his body, and he practically jumped through the back door.

“I...the... I mean, the bath is full an’ hot, lady. Jus’ put your clothes through the panel, and I’ll have them clean for you by morning.” At the mention of clothes, he went an amazing shade of pink. He closed the door so quickly, it caught his foot, which he rapidly extracted.

Smiling, she stripped and put her clothes through the panel, into the waiting basket on the back wall. Then she slowly stepped into the very hot water. After a good cleaning, she examined herself. She had a large bruise that went all the way around her arm, where her attacker had grabbed her. Her right shoulder was slightly swollen, with a number of broken blood vessels causing more areas of darkened flesh. Most of her front was also a patchwork of discoloration. She was sure her neck was just as ugly, and the constant ache in her back told her there was a very large purple area on her back, where he had planted his knee.

She massaged her shoulder and back in the hot water, then relaxed and soaked in the warmth for a time. When the water became cool, she stepped out and rubbed herself down with the coarse towel. Feeling much better, she dressed and went back up to her room.

The hair check was right where she left it. Unlocking the door, she checked the room again, and her gaze fell on the small pile of stuff she had left.
Sula should be coming up in a little bit. Now is as good a time as any other. Besides, if I don’t keep busy, I’ll fall asleep.

Since she had light and time, she could see right away that the equipment she had taken from her attacker was not simple fare. The belt was a very fine grade of leather, expertly stitched. The inside of the belt was a soft cloth, in which were various evenly-spaced pockets and bulges. Removing the knife sheaths and pouch from the belt, she knelt on the floor and laid the belt out the length of her bed, with the cloth side up. Feeling along the stitching, she located each item and carefully removed it, placing it on the bed above the pocket it had come out of. Once done, she looked over the assortment of tools. They were all metal with a dull, black patina. She tested each one. Some were very flexible and smooth edged, others had teeth, some were sharply pointed, and others had stiff, but thin, points or teeth of various sizes.

I’ve heard of thieves’ picks, but these are amazing. I doubt this is a beginner set, or even a common set.
She went back down the row of tools, picking each tool up and examining it carefully again before putting it back in its assigned pocket.
Not sure what I should do with these. I am pretty sure, getting caught with them would be a criminal offense
. She rolled the belt up and put it on the bottom of her pack.
I am not even sure if I can sell them for anything, or even where it would be safe to try to sell them, except at the Night Market.

Next were the knives. There were five total: four small, identical-looking ones, and one that might be considered a sword, as it was too long to really be a dagger. It was made of an unusual metal with dark, wavy lines running irregularly down the length of the blade. It had the same black patina as the thieves’ tools.
It is very light; adjusting for the length, I could use this in a knife fight as easily as a fighting dagger.
The knives were typical small knives that could be used as hand tools or thrown. These, she knew how to use. She checked the balance and edge of each knife, smiling the whole time.
Very fine knives, I can use these for sure
. She spent a little time figuring out how to best arrange the extra knives on her belt.
This might work, or I could get one of those cross-chest belts with some hold points for them
. Her eyes twinkled, imagining how she’d look with four fine throwing knives on a cross belt.
I’ll definitely look a bit more experienced, or at least, more impressive, that way
.

She pulled his pouch over. It, too, was very fine quality. She admired the clasp, which was silver with a geometric pattern. It was slightly distressed with age and use, giving it an antiqued look.
This is nice; I like the pattern and the look.
Opening it, she sat and stared in disbelief.
It’s empty! Where did the things I felt in it go?
Looking around her room, she couldn’t help feeling a little worried.
If someone got in here and stole this, why not take everything else? Why leave the pouch?
Her mind was buzzing with a new rush of adrenaline, when a knock on the door made her jump. As she went to the door, the real worry dawned on her.
Whoever did this was able to put my hair check precisely where it should be, and at exactly the right length!

The next knock was louder and broke her out of the stupor she was in, staring at the closed door. Shaking her head, she put her key in the door. “Yes?”

Sula’s voice came through the door. “Was the bath hot?”

She opened the door, and Sula stepped inside. Closing the door again, she tried to regain her composure. “Yes, it was extremely hot, and I really needed it.” She locked the door, leaving the key in the lock.

Sniffing the air, Sula nodded. “Yes, you did. So what happened to get you so filthy and not even notice it?”

Shrugging, she stepped back to the bed and plopped down on it. “I was mugged on the way back by the Knife from three days ago.” Sula’s eyes brightened.
Is she curious or mad?

“You were tagged. Are you sure it was the Knife?” Her voice was as steady and calm as ever but her eyes were slightly narrowed.

“Absolutely positive; he asked who I was working for and what the spell I tossed was.”

“What happened? Would you please tell me every detail?” It sounded like a question, but it was an order, like many of the other things Sula said. She always sounded so polite and never demanding, but there was never any doubt, one should do as she asked. Sula sat down in the room’s only chair, by the small table. Her back was as straight as a sword, feet tucked just so, and her hands were folded perfectly in her lap.

She has to be from a very high family. That kind of relaxed perfection is trained over a lifetime.
Shrugging, Ticca explained, starting at the market. She had been expecting this, and had put together the narrative while bathing. Sula listened patiently and only interrupted to ask for more details, or to double-check a fact. When she was finished, Ticca reclined leisurely on the bed, and Sula sat, thinking quietly for several minutes.

“This might not be a total disaster.”

“Look, there was no way anyone could have been more careful,” Ticca started, defensively.

“No, no. That isn’t what I mean,” Sula cut her off. “He must have been better than we estimated. He probably only picked you up because of the spell. That he sensed it, is a real surprise.” She held her hand up to prevent Ticca from interrupting again.

“If the Knife sensed the spell, then the Hand might have sensed it, too.” She shook her head. “I doubt he had time to tell anyone, which is the one really good luck point here.” Looking at Ticca, her eyes softened for the first time in the cycles Ticca had known her. “You’ve never killed anyone before.”

Again, it was a statement, not a question. Ticca couldn’t help it. She looked down as her throat closed up, and her eyes watered at the thought. She tried hard not to let Sula see the slight tremor that occurred in her hands, as she first looked at them as the hands of a killer.

Reaching over, Sula put a hand on her knee very gently. “I am truly sorry. But you should know you did the right thing. I am sure he would have killed you without any remorse.”

Sula withdrew her hand and pretended to think for a few minutes, giving Ticca time to regain control.

Ticca straightened up. “It was bound to happen sometime.” Instead of the never-you-mind tone she was aiming for, it sounded more like a squeak.

Smiling, Sula pretended it had come out as Ticca had intended. “May I please have the spell vessel back?”

Ticca pulled the small, bronze-colored cylinder from her pouch by the bed. In the light, it looked like an ordinary metal tube, but when holding it, Ticca could feel where her fingers should go, and it was sized perfectly for her hand. Ticca knew that was no accident, as Sula had measured her hand the day she hired her. She handed it over, and Sula carefully accepted it without actually touching it. Instead, she took it using a shiny white cloth, which she then wrapped around it carefully and tightly, before putting the package in her belt pouch.

“May I please see this elixir the assassin was going to use on you?”

Ticca produced the glass vial and handed it over.

Sula examined it carefully and sniffed at the seals. After holding the vial upright and tapping it, she pulled the stopper off. Ticca jumped up in surprise and moved away. Sula looked at her with amusement. “If I was going to kill you, I’d do it someplace less obvious, and in a way that would give you no chance to react.”

“Yes, well, that stuff is likely dangerous, and you just broke the seal.”

“True, but this particular vial is designed to be opened and resealed many times.” She continued to examine the liquid, very carefully smelling it from a distance before putting the seal back into place. “Vanedicha.”

“Huh?” Ticca looked curiously at the resealed vial and sat back down.
Tonight has had way too many surprises
.

“Vanedicha is a poison that induces a kind of trance if a small amount is inhaled. It kills, if you actually get a large dose.” Surprisingly, Sula handed the vial back. “A couple of drops on the upper lip under the nose are enough to cause one to become like an empty shell for about three marks. When you start to wake up, you are amazingly cooperative, forthcoming, and honest for about a mark. Three or four doses within a week will cause death. It is very sweet, and will mix with hyly or a sweet wine almost imperceptibly, and cause a painless, sleeping death in about three minutes.”

Ticca sat there holding the vial, staring at Sula. “How...? Why would you...? Am I to use…?” was all she could manage to say.

A charming, musical laugh filled the room. “Oh my dear, no. I just don’t want you misusing it or experimenting with it.”

Shaking her head to clear it, she stared at the lady. “Why not take it?”

“Well, that would be impractical. It does answer some questions, though.”