CITY OF BRIDGES

2

A New Foe

A skinny boy escorted Evlin to the Crystal Inn’s top floor, ushering her through a door into a large room where he left her with a quick bow.

The luxury amazed her. Opulent carpets covered areas of marble tile floor, paintings and tapestries adorned the walls. Expensive, plush furniture caught her eye as well. In her short life, Evlin rarely allowed herself moments to consider a better world. In her world, daydreaming was a hazardous preoccupation; loss of concentration could mean death or injury.

As a thin slip of a girl with bland, blonde hair and forgettable appearance, the only attention she usually received was the back of a hand or worse. What Evlin lacked in physical prowess she more than made up with pure rage and cruelty.

Years ago, in another small village, a would-be mark had bested her. Recognising her potential, he decided to spare her, training her to focus her rage toward enhancing her skills. The training had transformed her life. All the things making her an unwanted member of society made her an ideal candidate to join the Jart’lekk. Now all she wanted was to do her job and please her master.

Evlin was in awe of his abilities and suppressed a shiver at the sight of him. Wearing the close-fitting standard dark-grey suit of the Jart’lekk, he was her master, as he was to any taking the Blood Oath.

On entering, she bowed to her master. Beside him was a pudgy man dressed in blue, baggy leggings and tunic of silk. He looked too unfit to be a guild member. If her intelligence was correct, he was Daras, from the Sages Guild; the supplier of information and payment for this contract. Holding a creamy pastry in each hand, he gobbled one, then the other.

“You summoned me, master?” she addressed the head of the Jart’lekk.

“I did.” His dark eyes were never still, always searching. “You’ve done well. I have received favourable reports from many chapters. Today I require the use of your seeker talent.” He offered Evlin a selection of desserts from the table.

She recognised none of them, choosing a small tart, taking a modest nibble from the edge of the offering. “I serve in whatever way I can, master.”

“You’ve heard about this morning’s occurrence?”

“I visited the area as soon as I heard.”

He nodded, expecting no less. “And your findings?”

“The blood evidence shows, at least one of the enemy left injured. Surviving the poison is a mystery, but from that contact, her essence was imprinted onto this dagger found in our man.” She pulled it out of her sheath.

Forged in sacred ritual within the Opsyss temple, the weapon’s design was typically used by all guild members. A small reservoir was built into the scabbard. Drawing the blade caused a drop of poison to coat the sharp edge.

“Care to explain?” Her master raised his trimmed eyebrows.

“During moments of battle or great stress, the aura everybody has intensifies, leaving an identifiable life sign to those with the seeker talent. This dagger tasted her blood, making the imprinted signature even stronger.”

“You say ‘her’. How many were there, and how can you assume it was a female poisoned?” Daras asked.

Evlin turned to the fat sage. He was eyeing yet another pastry. “My seeker sense conveys this signature as female. No one is capable of surviving our poison. As no body has been located, she must have been removed, indicating at least two people. I am unaware if they were part of it, or passing by.”

“How can a couple people best your top assassins?” Daras asked. “How did they get close enough? Why am I paying such huge sums of gold if anyone – even a female – can do the job?”

“I’m a female.” Evlin looked the sage in the eye. “You think I am not good enough?” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her master smirking at Daras’s discomfort.

Sweat beading on his brow, the sage stepped back uneasily since Evlin still held the dagger. “Not at all, but an untrained woman? How? Has one of the Jart’lekk gone rogue?”

“The Jart’lekk has no rogues, and this is not an average woman. She is very different.”

“How so? What makes this one so special?” her master asked.

Evlin smiled. “Master, she’s only part human. Her aura indicates she has a mixture of traits.”

“A half-caste? Are you sure?” Daras asked in surprise.

“From her blood, I am positive.”

“I cannot fathom anyone in the area helping crossbreed scum,” Daras said.

“How would you go about eliminating this problem?” Her master considered a pastry on the plate in front of him, ignoring Daras.

Sheathing the dagger, she replied, “Exterminate every half-caste in Delta.”

“That’s one method.” He delicately licked a crumb off his lip. “But creating anger at us within the city is not our goal.”

“Anger over half-castes being exterminated?”

“No, at wholesale slaughter. Though they may despise half-breeds, crossbreeds – call them what you will – the people will become fearful of us—”

“They should be fearful.” Evlin quickly looked down chagrined at herself for interrupting her master.

“Not to the extent the populace would make demands of the authorities; they may call in the guards. I prefer our organisation to keep a lower profile.”

“The codex now has the attention of several temples; the Brotherhood of the Flame, and the Watchers in particular.” Daras said. “Both are focused on little else right now.”

“Let me worry about temple interference,” the master replied to Daras.

“I will locate her.” Evlin nodded.

“You have her bounty, but the book comes first.”

“But master, she has killed two—”

“I’m not one for repeating myself, Evlin.” His eyes drilled into her black soul.

Evlin dropped to her knees. “Forgive me, master. The book is primary, as you command. My blood is your blood.” She gave Daras a withering look in return for his smirk.

*

Three days of boredom was all Leonie could stand. Hissing, arguing, and clawed threats reverberated through the Taker’s Guild House. To save his skin, the apothecary declared her recovered and able to go outside. After a fresh change of clothes, she quickly headed for the door.

Out of habit, Leonie kept to the shadows when approaching the waterfront. At the sound of a soft footfall on the planks around the nearest corner, her hackles rose and ears twitched. The thought of being attacked by assassins crossed her mind. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea? She was positive no one survived the recent encounter. No witness to point an accusing claw.

Damn these narrow alleys. Damn the refuse, too. She braced for an attack.

A gust of wind stirred the dust. Her keen nose picked up the familiar scent of an illios mixed with the garbage. Leonie relaxed, retracting her claws.

“Hi, Feiron,” she said, recognising her friend as he strolled around the corner.

“Damn. What gave me away? You haven’t ssuddenly developed pssychic abilitiez, have you?”

She grimaced at the tone of his sibilant voice; it didn’t take long for the lisping and slurring to irritate. The forked tongue of a vorien made it challenging to capture the nuances of the common language. He sounded authentic, but it was an unpleasant experience.

“No.” Leonie grinned. “It was your smell.” She paused at the lane’s exit, letting her eyes adjust to the bright daylight. “Luckily you shapechangers have a distinct aroma.”

“Thankz. It’s sso nice to be appreciated.” He caught up with her. Pulling two fruits from his pouch, offering her one.

Leonie declined with a shudder. “The last time I ate one of those, the fur on my tail fell out.” She admired the way his scales glistened. The darker tips on the dorsal fins were perfectly formed for a mature male.

Over the Bridgeway, the pair dodged merchants and carts going about their daily business and made their way onto one a pier jutting out into the canal. To the left, the harbour opened to the Great Southern Sea. To the right stretched the waterfront and the bulk of the city beyond hugging the coastal hills. The myriad of connected islands haphazardly connected by bridges of every size, shape and colour. Diamond Island was the largest and where the Grand Plaza was situated. The headland opposite them, which made up the western arm of the harbour, was crowned by the palace.

As they walked along the pier, she turned to him, appraising him in full light. “Looks like you’ve got that new shape down to a fine detail.” She nimbly stepped over a loose board. “Too bad you can’t change your scent. Not that I find it objectionable, but it’s not what a vorien smells like.”

“Perhapz I could massk my natural sscent by sstrapping a few fish around my waisst.” Feiron bit into his fruit, through the rind. The juice dribbling down his chin was absorbed through his ‘scales’.

“If you think it’d help.” She grinned at the idea of him moving around the town with the stench of dead fish in his wake. Stopping by the railing at the end of the pier, she used the opportunity to rest. “How do you do that? Bite, I mean.”

“We can harden our sskin in ssmall areaz and shape it to an edge firm enough to sslice into ssoft tissue, like fruit.”

They found themselves beside a small shrine dedicated to Onin-le, a minor water deity. Both spat in it as was customary, sharing their body-water. Feiron then fanned his fins in an intricate display, as expected of one of the aquatic races.

“Why bite though? Doesn’t your race absorb food through the skin?”

“Yes, but it’ss good practisse. Having food disssolve on one’z face issn’t a good way to maintain my dissguisse.”

“Good point. What brings you down here to this part of town? And why disguised as a merman? Don’t you illios go to pieces in water?”

“What you ssay is true. Prolonged immersion in water, esspecially sseawater, would have a debilitating effect on my endoplassm.”

“Okay, okay.” She held her paws up to fend off a lecture. “You dissolve, right?”

“In a word, yez. My reasson for being here iz sstanding besside me.”

“Me! Why?” Her tail twitched.

“My mentor and your bosz are colluding with each other. They ssuggested we team up for a trip.”

Leonie watched with interest as he changed back into his natural form. A translucent, grey blob now replaced the shape of the almost humanoid fish. “That’s hard on the eyes. A warning would have been nice?”

He took another bite of his fruit. “I’m aware you don’t enjoy being out of town, but your boss insisted. I think she’s worried for you.”

Leonie shrugged, relieved his speech was back to normal.

They watched as a small fleet of fishing vessels sailed out through The Teeth, a series of sharp rocky outcrops rising from the mouth of the harbour.

“So, looks like we’re both heading to Qelay. What’s your task?”

Feiron hesitated. “Your task has priority. On the return, I need to visit the Central Ranges. I’ve already arranged for transport and supplies. Other than your charming company and natural skills, you need not supply anything more.”

“I understand what I have to do, what’s the nature of your trip?” she asked, idly watching a school of redfins darting around the pylons of the small pier.

“Oh, nothing really. A small matter of collecting a few eggshells,” he replied vaguely.

“Eggshells? Why go to the mountains? We’ll be away over a week more in that trek. There are dozens of farms much closer.” Leonie turned to Feiron, eyeing him dubiously. When in his natural state, she was unsure what part of his body she was addressing.

“Because that’s where volcanoes are,” he said, trying to sound casual. “They have the ideal conditions for wyverns to nest.”

“Wyverns? Volcanoes?” Her tail lashed back and forth. “By the whiskers of Slistorf. Is your mentor crazy?”

“Possibly, but think of how much fun we’ll have.”

“Fun? How can this be fun?” She was about to protest further but stopped and sighed. Less than an hour ago, she had been complaining about wanting to go out.

The wind changed direction, bringing with it the foul odour from the nearby tannery and the exposed mudflats of the ebbing tide. Turning, they retraced their steps, a well-chosen moment, as Leonie did not think she could stomach the stench much longer.

Feiron oozed behind as they moved off the pier, crossed Bridgeway and wended their way towards the web; aptly named with its many crisscrossed alleys and lanes. It was filled with nooks and crannies containing nasty surprises for the unwary.

“Why wyvern eggs?” she asked.

“These shells have rare properties. You may remember, my mentor is an alchemist. She wants; I fetch. But, after this trip, I’ll have finished my obligations and will be free to do as I wish.”

“No one’s that free.”

“I’m sure the shells alone will suffice,” he paused. “But then, imagine the look on her face if we brought an entire egg, one that hatched in her lab—”

“Imagine the trouble we’ll be in for bringing a live wyvern into the city. Imagine what I’ll do to you if you think about it again!”

“At the least, we can see a volcano up close and maybe even a real wyvern. I know it’s a lot to ask, but there’s no one else I know or trust well enough to depend on in a crisis.”

“Stop.” She pivoted on the spot, causing him to ooze around one of her legs. “If we’re going to help each other, don’t mention ‘crisis’. Remove it from your vocabulary. I don’t want to meet a wyvern – up close or within rock throwing distance. I want to retire old and with all my limbs still attached.”

“This is so exciting.” He hugged her with his enthusiasm. The embrace felt like being swaddled in warm jelly.

“That’s your way of showing your gratitude, is it?” She automatically adjusted her stance to maintain her balance. “Where can I contact you?”

He reformed beside her. “My cart and supplies are in the warehouse on the second-last block along the North Mall; the one with the grey doors.”

“Alright. I better go find Jade.”

“I haven’t told you what you’ll get for the assistance,” Feiron called out as she turned away.

“Let’s see how successful we are. I don’t need much.”

“Do I hear correctly? Do my ears deceive? A thief knocking back a profit?”

“That, my friend, will cost you dearly.” She shook a clawed finger at him. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you’ve ‘no ears’ to deceive. You’re a talking blob. All we know of wyverns is from rumourmongers on street corners, or bard tales we hear in taverns. There’s no guarantee of hoarded treasure, so don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Her lithe form disappeared in the shadows almost instantly.

* * *