Twenty-Two
Kyrundar
The emotions I sensed through the heartbond weren’t truly concerning, but they weren’t reassuring, either. Whatever Sajen was talking to Zidra about made her uncomfortable, but not alarmingly so. I released the connection, because her emotions were distracting me from my purpose.
While I hated separating from Zidra, I had to admit Sajen had a point. Zidra was the person to talk to impatient port masters, grumpy clerks, and self-important merchants. I was the person to uncover the gossip in dining establishments.
The scent of delicious roast veal pulled me into a tavern. The barmaid had never heard of Rouven, nor had the tavern’s proprietor, and they just chortled when I asked about Nyksian mead. After the maid delivered my veal handpie, I wandered over to the other guests. The wolf shifter couple hadn’t heard of Rouven and didn’t know where to buy Nyksian mead, and the balding human sipping an ale while he balanced a ledger only grunted in response to my query.
After the tavern, I meandered over to a bakery. The light elf woman tried to talk me into buying all kinds of baked goods, but I stood my ground and bought a single iced cinnamon bun. If they’d had any apple turnovers, I’d have purchased one for Zidra. The baker hadn’t heard of Rouven and didn’t know where to buy Nyksian mead, either.
“Heard any fascinating gossip, then?” I leaned against the counter with a conspiratorial smile.
She looked up from rearranging pastries in the display case. “All kinds, but not any I reckon would interest a rengir.” She considered. “Well, there was that brawl last week.”
“Brawl?” That wasn’t helpful, but was it something I should look into as a rengir?
“A couple sailors got into a tussle in the street, right in front of my shop. Then their friends took sides, and the city guard had to break it up. I heard they were fighting over who was going to do shopping for some rich old hermit.” She shook her head. “Fighting in the streets for a few extra gold coins from some eccentric old fool. Unseemly behavior.”
“Old hermit?” I asked eagerly. “An ice elf, by chance?”
She turned up her palms. “Not sure. The sailors would know, though. ”
I thanked her and wandered back out to find some sailors. At this time of day, most restaurants had very few patrons. At last, I found a tavern where three men who looked promising were eating in the back corner. The blond human had a sun-beaten face, the green-eyed and tanned forest elf wore a loose shirt tucked into fitted trousers that were unusual for an elf, and the brown-skinned human’s muscles strained against the shoulders of his shirt.
I approached a young man wearing an apron and ordered an ale, which the lad brought out quickly. I carried my drink over to the three men and motioned to the remaining chair at their table. “Mind if I join you?”
They took in my swords and insignia before nodding slowly.
“Thank you!” I slid into the chair and sipped my drink. “Are you sailors?”
The forest elf nodded. “We work on the Wraith . You’re an ice elf, right?” His gaze fixed on my earrings, his brow puckering. “I heard Kyrundar Ilifir, one of the Emperor’s Merit recipients, is an ice elf with a light elf mother.”
I lounged back in my chair with a relaxed smile. “That’s true, I am.”
All three men sat taller, glancing at each other with wide eyes. The sunburned human rested his forearm on the table near me, as if barely restraining himself from touching me. “Do you need help with anything, Rengir Ilifir?”
I took another sip. “Have any of you heard of an ice elf named Gautindar Rouven?”
They all shook their heads, looking disappointed .
“Then do you know anything about a rich old hermit who pays sailors to do his shopping?”
“Old Frostbite?” the sunburned human said.
“Who is that?”
They said together, “Nobody.” The other human snickered.
I chuckled confusedly. “Er…”
“That is,” the elf said quickly, “a mean old ice elf has been living in one of the Glacorian inlets for…close to six months?”
His friends murmured their agreement. I almost danced in my chair.
“He says his name is Nobody. I suppose he just hates people that much. All the sailors have taken to calling him Old Frostbite, both because of his temperament and because he’s surrounded his inlet with ice magic.” The elf shrugged. “At least, that’s what I heard. I haven’t been that way recently, but some elves say they can sense his magic a mile away.”
“I’ve heard Old Frostbite skates out with a sack full of gold to passing ships when he wants something,” the dark-haired human said. “And he asks them to bring him back expensive food and drinks. Sounds half mad to me.”
“Does he ask for Nyksian mead, by chance?” I pressed.
“Possibly. We’ve not been hired by him.”
“Know anyone who has?”
The elf frowned. “The crew of the Ishara , for sure, but they left port a few days ago.”
As they didn’t have much more to offer, I thanked them and left with a spring in my step. I almost headed back to the Haven, but checking in on the heartbond confirmed that Zidra was still by the docks. I could meet them there…but the Cherry Blossom Teahouse was only a street away. Their tea wasn’t as good as that at the Blooming Lotus, but I liked the place. More importantly, it was frequented by bards and troubadours who were good sources of gossip. If I could get the name of someone who had actually met Old Frostbite or the location of the magic-protected inlet, Zidra would be impressed. And I’d get tea out of the deal.
Mind made up, I proceeded to the teahouse. Upon entering, I spotted a ginger human with a lute hanging on the back of her seat. I grinned. Our eyes met, and she jumped to her feet.
“Kyrundar!”
“Laine.” I helped myself to one of the three empty chairs at her table. After the host took my order, I leaned back and looked to Laine. “How is troubadour life?”
“Same as always.” She grinned back. “Dusty roads and demanding audiences. Speaking of which, please tell me you have new Kyrmaris stories. I need material to incorporate into the song I’m writing about you two receiving the Merit together.”
Something twisted inside me, but I kept my smile in place. “I’m afraid not.”
The host brought over my tea, and I thanked him and poured myself a cup before continuing the conversation. “I’m actually looking to get information. ”
Laine sighed melodramatically. “Are you hunting for a mission or investigating something specific? Because I’ve been trying to get someone to look into a death, but the two rengir I’ve talked to said there’s nothing they can do since the city inspector ruled it wasn’t murder.”
I frowned. “A friend of yours?”
“No, but an occasional patron.” Laine refilled her teacup, her expression pinched. “A wealthy merchant who loved hosting parties, Teague Carlower. I performed at his townhouse in Cadevelde three weeks ago, and at the end of the night, he was drunkenly ranting about how he’d been threatened to include strangers in his next caravan. He said he wouldn’t be threatened, even by a group of powerful heretics who are infiltrating the government to take over the empire.”
Alarm coursed through me as I remembered the shifter assassin insulting Iskyr. “Heretics?”
She shook her head and sipped her tea. “I’m not sure what he meant. All I know is the next day, Carlower was dead. Suffocated, the physician said, but without signs of a break-in or struggle, and there was nothing lodged in his airway. Like he just…choked on nothing.”
Or like he was strangled by a night elf’s shadows. “Are you putting any of that in a song?” I asked, trying not to sound too worried. I didn’t want assassins to target another friend.
Laine’s eyes widened. “Void-cursed monsters, of course not! If there is a group of people up to conspiracy, sacrilege, and murder, I don’t want their attention. Besides, conspiracies and fear-mongering don’t elicit the emotions that make audiences loose their purse strings.” She smiled sweetly and leaned closer. “What audiences would love to know is where Kyrmaris went together after the Dawning Festival.”
Just then, the door to the teahouse opened. A wave of anger flashed through the heartbond without me accessing it. Trailed by Sajen, Zidra marched over, her expression deceptively calm. Her gaze moved purposefully from me to my teatime companion to the lute hanging from the back of Laine’s chair and back to me. She sat in the unoccupied chair to my left, across from the troubadour, and skewered me with a look.
I considered moving my chair away from Laine, but that would make me look guilty. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and Laine was just an acquaintance and source of information—but I didn’t know how to politely explain that to Zidra in front of Laine.
“Telling more stories?” Zidra asked.
Accusation hid behind the sharp question. I winced. She was probably wondering if I was telling every bard, clerk, troubadour, and busybody in Gamnica about our recent adventures and her current predicament, and I couldn’t really blame her.
I smiled reassuringly. “Hearing them, actually. Zidra, this is Laine. Laine, Rengir Zidra Eilmaris.”
“The honor is assuredly mine.” Laine rested a freckled forearm on the tabletop and leaned forward. Her ginger hair slid over her shoulder and hung dangerously close to her half-full teacup. “Do I understand there are new Kyrmaris stories to be told? Ilifir is being irritatingly tight-lipped.” She slid her narrowed eyes over to me and affected a dramatic pout.
On my other side, Zidra stiffened. Sajen watched both women before lowering himself into the seat opposite me. He tilted his head with a far too merry expression. Easy for him to think this was funny when he wasn’t the one caught between a suspicious wyveri and a cunning human who was adept at flirting, cajoling, bribing, and otherwise convincing people to give her sensational gossip.
“Traveling makes boring stories,” Zidra said dryly.
“Exactly.” I nodded as if that settled the matter. Zidra studied me for a moment before returning her attention to Laine.
“Then what were you two discussing?” Zidra’s mouth pinched downward.
“Rumors and shadows of rumors and the ever-shifting mists of secrets hinted at but left unspoken,” Laine replied, a bit of performer flare mixing with snappishness. She leaned back and pointedly turned toward me. “Did you have any other questions?”
“Do you know anything about Gautindar Rouven?”
Laine shook her head. “Doesn’t sound familiar, sorry.” She tossed back the rest of her tea and stood. “Always a pleasure, Ilifir. Iskyr guide you all.”
“And you,” the three of us replied in unison.
The troubadour nodded to each of us in turn, then slung her lute on her back and departed .
“I wasn’t flirting,” I said. “I’m not interested in Laine.”
Zidra stared at me, and then her posture eased and she nodded. “Did you learn anything useful?”
“I’ve gleaned several bits of interesting information. What did you learn? And talk about?” Hopefully it wasn’t obvious I cared less about what they had learned than what they had discussed. I doubted they’d tell me the latter, though.
“We have a lead, but we wanted your opinion, so we went looking for you.”
The corner of my mouth pulled up, and I tried for my most flirtatious tone as I asked, “How did you find me?”
Zidra blushed. “You know very well how.”
Sajen chortled and leaned back in his chair, observing us as if thoroughly enjoying himself.
“I assume you know how as well, then?” I asked.
“Indeed.”
Did his crooked smile mean what I assumed it did? “Any thoughts on the matter?”
“The route is unexpected, but the destination is not.”
Sajen’s approval bolstered me.
Zidra slid down in her chair. “What matters right now is Rouven.”
“Agreed.” I drained my tea and stood. “But I am out of tea and out of coin to pay for more, so shall we discuss this back at the Haven?”
“Out of coin?” Zidra stood, and Sajen followed suit. “How? That old woman—”
“Was incredibly generous,” I said mildly. “I’m sure the copper coins she gave us were incredibly precious to her. They don’t go as far in a port city as I imagine they would in her village—”
“You spent it all on tea ?” she demanded.
I opened the door for her and Sajen. “Of course not. This wasn’t my first stop. I can’t loiter in an establishment without buying something. That would be terribly rude.”
“And that poor woman thought her donation would enable us to help more people,” Zidra muttered.
Sajen pressed his lips together, poorly hiding his amusement.
“It did!” I insisted. “Because my purchases enabled me to talk to several people, and those people gave me information that may help us help others. Maybe indirectly,” I admitted in response to Zidra’s narrowed side-eye. “But getting you healed means you’ll be able to help more people, and I have some interesting tidbits on Rouven and the league.”
That got her attention. She went from reluctantly trailing after me to striding ahead of me so quickly I had to rush to keep up, even though her legs were much shorter.
Once we were back in our room at the Haven, we tossed pillows on the floor and sat in a circle.
“What did you learn?” Zidra asked before I’d even fully settled.
“What did you two talk about?” I parried.
Her gaze flicked to Sajen, then fell to the wood-paneled floor. Sajen’s relaxed posture and neutral expression revealed nothing. Neither spoke, and finally I had to accept that whatever they had discussed, they weren’t going to tell me.
Which made me suspect they had discussed me , but it seemed I would never know. Annoying.
“We spoke to an ice elf ship captain who recently sailed down the coast,” Zidra said. “He said there’s an inlet partway up the Glacori coast that is covered in powerful ice magic wards and traps. The mouth of the inlet is sheer cliff faces, though, so there’s nowhere to dock. We’d have to fly in.”
“It seems dangerous, but worth checking,” Sajen said.
“That fits with what I learned.” I related the information about Old Frostbite.
“That settles it,” Zidra said. “We need to find a ship that’s leaving soon and will sail past this inlet.” She started to get up, but I held up my hand to stop her.
“First, though, I need to tell you about something Laine told me.” I repeated her story about Merchant Carlower and my suspicions about night elf involvement.
Zidra drummed her fingers on the wood floor, then rose to her feet with grace that could make an elf jealous. “Well then. First, we need to write to Archon Aekyrdra with what we know.”
I nodded. As the current leader of the Order of the Rengir, Aekyrdra could send notices to every Haven in the empire, and she met regularly with the Council of Archons and high-ranking imperial officials. If anything happened to us, the Order would still know everything we did about the league of assassins. Which admittedly was very little .
“Then,” she continued, “we need to go down to the docks and charter passage.”
“That gets us to the inlet,” I said, “but not past Rouven’s ice traps.” Assuming Old Frostbite was the right cranky old ice elf. Please, Iskyr, let him be the right man. And let him be trustworthy and willing and able to help. “I can’t guarantee I can disarm the traps or protect us from all of them. In fact, sometimes such traps are designed to be triggered if other magic tampers with them.”
Sajen stood as well. “I can fly over the inlet to do reconnaissance. If I carry you, perhaps you can sense if there’s a way in.”
Zidra blinked. “Surely no one could maintain magical traps over an entire inlet.”
With a sigh, I shuffled to my feet. “I suppose we’ll find out soon.”