Dawn of the Dreamsmith (The Raven's Tale Book 1) (73 page)

While he waited for Raven to return, Cole glanced around the room again, taking in more detail this time. To the untrained eye, it would appear as if all was well, yet before long he felt the prickle of hairs standing up on the nape of his neck. He saw one man tread heavily upon the toes of another, and another barge accidentally into a stranger to send the man’s drink flying across his jacket in a splash of foam. In both cases, the injured party merely smiled and laughed off the incident before resuming their conversations. At a bench nearby, four men sat playing cards. As he watched, one of them lost a large pile of coins, and guffawed as he pushed them across the tabletop to his opponent.
Nobody is that happy,
he thought.

A moment later, Raven reappeared with two flagons, which she placed down on the barrel lid. Cole could tell immediately that something was bothering her, and wondered if she had noticed the strange atmosphere as well.

“Seems like there’s a fun crowd in today,” he said, before quaffing a mouthful of the watery ale.

Raven glanced surreptitiously around the room. “Does it remind you of anywhere?”

Cole knew the answer. “Faerloren,” he said. “The tavern there in particular. People here aren’t as... run-down as the villagers we found in the Spiritwood, but their manner is similar.”

“Give them half a century of isolation and their appearance would likely be just as similar,” Raven replied. “Drink up, I do not think we should tarry here.”

Cole took another draught of ale. Then, as he wiped the foam from his lip, he felt a curious trembling sensation at his waist. “Grume?” he whispered. “Are you all right?” He glanced around, but nobody seemed to be paying him attention, so he risked lifting the flap of the boggit’s pouch a fraction. Inside, the little creature’s eyes were wide, the hair on his head standing to attention as if in shock. “Just like in Strathearn,” he told Raven. “I think we can take a guess as to what’s behind the unusual good cheer.” This time, when Cole looked around the tavern, he saw that everyone wore at least one item of jewellery; necklaces, bracelets, rings. Those he could see all bore a familiar green gem.

They drank as quickly as they could without raising suspicions. Even taking into account the unreal atmosphere inside the tavern, Raven seemed distracted. “What do we do now?” he asked, hoping to break her silence.

Raven blinked, then focused on him. She had been staring into space, lost in her own thoughts. “There is an inn not too far from here, on the way to the Spire. We should scrape together all our remaining coin and get a room, if we can. Then, after sundown, I’ll take to the streets and learn what I can about the tower and see if a way in can be found, while you talk to people at the inn to the same end.”

“Not that I’m complaining about warming my toes beside a fire all evening while you roam around in the cold, but why not stay here?” Cole frowned. “Why would the inn be any different?”

Raven shook her head. “There are no rooms here. When I was getting the drinks, the landlord mentioned a city-wide curfew. When evening comes, the taverns will empty, but hopefully an inn will not.”

“A curfew?” Cole was alarmed. “Why?”

“I... am not sure.” Raven appeared distracted again, her fingers toying absently with her flagon. “Finish your drink,” she said, with sudden determination. “It’s getting late.”

They left the tavern just a few minutes later. Cole half-expected the crowd to try to stop them, to take them captive as the villagers of Faerloren had done. But people barely turned in their direction as they squeezed through the tightly packed bodies onto the street outside.

Raven led the way, striding purposefully past the stone buildings. Her mind was apparently still occupied by whatever was bothering her, and Cole had to jog to keep pace with her. Outside, Ehrenburg was quieter than he had expected, no doubt due to the curfew; even now, the sun was fast approaching the rooftops to their right.

The Spire was clearly visible in front of them, and Cole’s gaze wandered up its length to the gathering storm clouds above. The unearthly green glow was even more pronounced inside the city, and he feared its purpose. It was surely too much of a coincidence to be unrelated to their mission.

The inn Raven had mentioned was not far, but close enough to the tower that it seemed to loom threateningly above them. Cole shivered, and it was only in part due to the winter chill in the air. He could also hear the distant cries of seabirds and smell salt on the breeze; clearly they were also not a great distance from the imperial city’s harbour. He found himself remembering the guard’s advice to him at the gates, and smiled. He could not have been further from their true intent.

He stood behind Raven while she spoke to the innkeeper. Whatever price they agreed for a small room for the night was apparently within their meagre budget, as the handful of copper Raven pressed into his palm seemed to satisfy him.

“Stay here tonight, Cole,” she told him once the transaction was concluded. She handed him a small iron key. “Try not to be too conspicuous, but listen to what people are saying. Subtly try to steer conversation towards the Order and their tower to see if anyone knows anything of interest to us.” She removed her pack and left it by his feet. Obviously, whatever her plans were they did not involve staying away for long.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I will investigate the tower itself and try to think of a way we can gain entrance to it and reach the top unmolested. Whatever the Archon has planned, my guess is it will take place there.”

“When will you return?”

“When I can.” Raven suddenly pulled him into an embrace, and he was too surprised to react. “Listen... Cole,” she murmured in his ear. “If... anything happens, do what you can to stop him. I have faith that you’ll make the right decision when the time comes. I believe in you.” She kissed his cheek. Then, with that, she swept from the inn and disappeared into the fading light.

Cole stood rubbing his face foolishly for a few moments, his eyes on the door. Slowly, he came to himself and ventured into the inn’s common room. He had been right about the fire; at the far end the hearth was burning merrily. While not large, the room was still a good size. Half a dozen benches sat upon a clean stone floor, but only one was occupied. A solitary patron sat with their back to Cole, huddled over their drink. Despite the warmth from the fire, they wore a cloak with the hood pulled up to hide their features. Whoever it was clearly valued their privacy, and Cole didn’t fancy his chances of striking up a worthwhile conversation.

He wondered why it was so empty compared to the tavern. Perhaps it would fill up in the next hour as evening approached and other establishments emptied by order of the emperor.

Whatever the case, it didn’t appear as if he could act on Raven’s instructions just yet, so he approached the fire. He glanced at the lone stranger out of the corner of one eye as he passed, but just as he suspected was unable to see his face beneath the hood.

Cole settled himself in a chair before the hearth, and stared into the crackling flames. The seat was wooden and hard, but after days in the saddle it was a relief to be sitting on something that wasn’t moving. Idly, he wondered whether he should order a drink and try to somehow get talking to the room’s only other occupant, when the decision was made for him.

“Cole?”

He swivelled in his chair. The stranger was looking in his direction. As he watched, thin hands pulled back his hood to reveal a familiar face. One he had thought long dead. “Cas?” He jumped from the seat and hurried to the bench. He clasped his friend’s hand, grinning. “I don’t believe it, it is you! What are you doing here? I had thought that everyone...” The smile faded from his face. “Are there others? Did more survive?”

Caspian’s eyes fell to the tabletop. “No, just me.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but lapsed into silence.

Cole sat opposite his old friend, and patted his shoulder. “I understand,” he said gently. “If you survived that night then I understand what might bring you here, but how?” He thought about his own journey. “You can’t have travelled all the way across the Empire by yourself.”

“I had some help,” Caspian met his eyes again. “An acquaintance of yours, actually.”

Cole’s face was blank for a few moments, then realisation dawned. He grinned again. “Captain Brandt found you? I wonder which one of you was more surprised.”

“Definitely me.” Caspian shuddered at the memory.

“I had an inkling the captain might want to confirm my tale, he seemed the curious sort,” Cole mused. “But however did you convince him to sail so far from home?”

“As a matter of fact, he convinced me,” Caspian replied with a weak smile. “I’ll tell you my tale if you tell me yours, but not here. The walls have ears, and if you’ve spent any time in the city you’ll know that means trouble.”

Cole looked past his friend’s shoulder. The innkeeper was stood behind his bar polishing glasses with a stained cloth. Though whatever stone it bore was hidden beneath his shirt, a thin silver chain was visible around his neck. “I have a room here,” he said.

Caspian nodded, and together they rose from the bench and made their way up the bare wooden staircase to the first floor. Four doors led off the corridor, and Cole located the one that his key opened on the second try. Pushing it open, he saw that his room, while small, was at least clean and well-kept. He sat on the bed, the mattress of which was firm but not overly hard, while Caspian lowered himself onto a three-legged stool.

As he sat, Grume barged his way out of the pouch and plonked himself down moodily beside him. “Oh, perfick,” the boggit muttered, catching sight of Caspian. “Another bigger.” He sniffed. “Got any grub?”

Cole rummaged in his pack for a few scraps of food, then smiled when he saw Caspian’s dumbfounded expression. “What’s that?” his friend asked incredulously.

The boggit stuck his tongue out, before starting to demolish a bread roll. “This is Grume,” answered Cole. “The Impending Grume, to give him his full name. We found him a couple of weeks ago. I brought him with us as I felt guilty after accidentally hurting him, and since then he’s just... stuck around, really.” The little creature glared at him and then turned back to his meal.

Without taking his eyes off the boggit, Caspian said, “I think perhaps you should start from the beginning, Cole.”

So he did. Cole told Caspian all that had happened to him since they had last seen one another; waking up in his cell to find the Crag under attack, fleeing from the Archon’s giant, being rescued by Captain Brandt, his flight from Westcove... everything leading up the moment he had stepped into the inn that afternoon.

“That is quite some tale,” Caspian said when he had finished. His face was pale; Cole’s description of his journey through the Spiritwood in particular had shaken him. “Is that ale?” he asked, pointing at the bottles in Cole’s pack.

“There were times when I didn’t believe we would make it here, not truly.” Cole brought out two bottles and handed one to a grateful Caspian. “I bet a sea voyage was quite dull in comparison.”

Caspian took a long draught of beer. “No doubt,” he said afterwards, with an enigmatic smile.

“Where is the captain, anyway? It would be good to say hello if he’s about.”

“He’s around,” Caspian replied. “We got to the city a few days ago. We’ve been going into the taverns and inns around the tower each afternoon and evening, trying to find out what we can.”

“That seems like a common strategy currently,” Cole said, smiling. “Have you learned anything useful?”

“Not much.” Caspian shrugged. “Nobody seems to know what the Archon intends, and I’ve been afraid to speak to many people about it. The Order’s influence is growing.”

Cole grimaced, recalling the atmosphere in the tavern. “I’ve seen it for myself,” he said, “and not for the first time. It was bad enough in Strathearn, but I’ve felt none of that tension here. That disturbs me even more.”

Outside the room’s only window lay darkness. Evening had turned to night while they had talked. When he noticed, Caspian stood. “It was good to see you, Cole. I don’t believe it is chance that we met. I’ll bring the captain here in the morning and see if we can all come up with a plan for what to do next.” He pulled up his hood. “But for now, I should go. I’ve already missed curfew, but hopefully I can reach our rooms before the guards start to patrol the streets in force.”

“My guide, the one I told you about, mentioned the curfew. Do you know what it’s about?” Cole gulped down the last of his ale.

Caspian shivered, though the room was not cold. “Unfortunately, yes,” he replied. “A killer roams the streets of Ehrenburg at night, and the guards seem powerless to stop them. So far they have claimed six lives, among them a young noblewoman, a thief, a cobbler’s wife and a young serving girl. It was likely the former that resulted in the curfew, as I’m not sure the authorities would be that bothered about the others, not by themselves anyway. No links between any of them, save one: all had hair as black as night, seemingly the only ones in the city with such colouring. Hey! Where are you going?”

As his friend spoke, Cole sprayed the mouthful of ale over the wall opposite. Then he was running, out of the room, down the stairs and out of the inn. His feet pounded across the flagstones of the street as he raced in the direction of the tower. Raven’s last words to him rang in his ears. He had to find her.