Shadow Games (The Collector Chronicles Book 2) Read online

  Linsay frowned. “Skilled? If I were skilled, you wouldn’t discard me like this. It’s because I’m not a fighter like the others that you’re disposing of me.”

  “Do you think I value only fighters?” Carth asked.

  “Think? I’ve seen what you value, Carthenne. You fight so that you can reveal your strength and force others to do what you want. Yes, I think you value fighting.”

  Carth glanced over at Boiyn. “And what of you? Do you think I value fighting over anything else?”

  Boiyn considered Carth for a moment before answering. “You understand the need for fighters, but my sense of you is that you value a person, not what skill they bring to you. It has always intrigued me about you, Carthenne. You have much power, and you could very easily use it differently than you do, but I have never seen you abuse it. That is what intrigues me.”

  “And what do you think of what Linsay has been saying?”

  “She is quite compelling with her insistence. I’ll admit that I am conflicted.”

  A slight smile crossed Linsay’s eyes: Her belief that she was victorious. If she could sway Boiyn, Linsay would believe that she could convince Alayna and Jenna much more easily. Boiyn had always been something of an outsider among their group. It was more than only his gender, though that separated him from the others. It was more than simply his skin tone. There was something aloof about Boiyn.

  “It’s good that you’re conflicted,” Carth said. Linsay flicked her gaze to her, and the smile in her eyes faded. “I’ve been conflicted by what I’ve experienced with her, too. I don’t know why—or how—she has managed to betray us for as long as she has. I don’t know why she would serve the Collector after everything that she has been through with us, and everything that she has seen. But that is her choice.” Carth turned to Linsay. “Much as it is my choice to believe that you continue to work on the Collector’s behalf.” When Linsay started to open her mouth, Carth raised her hand, silencing her. “I don’t need for you to argue with me about this. Your argument won’t be effective. I’ve already come to the conclusion that you do work for him.”

  “And now you want to convince the others. You’re going to pit me against them. You’re trying to hurt me.”

  Carth frowned. Her brow furrowed as she considered Linsay. “You haven’t served him nearly as well as you could have.”

  “What?”

  “If you think that I want to pit you against Alayna and Jenna and Boiyn, you never really understood me. After everything that we’ve been through together, I am most surprised by that.”

  And it might be the key to being able to defeat the Collector. If he thought that Carth prized winning more than she prized the people involved, then he wouldn’t know her.

  She had been trying to understand how the Collector had managed to place her in such a difficult situation, but the answer had been there the entire time. He was able to work around her because he did not care about the people—and in his mind, the pieces—that he used. Carth, on the other hand, did care about them. Almost to a fault. She didn’t value winning over the chance to help those she cared about. She would rather save one person than sacrifice many.

  “I would still offer my help to you,” Carth said.

  Linsay watched her and said nothing.

  “That’s who I am, and that’s what I’m about. I would rather help you become the person you need to be, especially if that gets you away from a man like the Collector, who I know would abuse you, than win. But make no mistake,” Carth said, leaning forward. “I will not allow him to acquire the Elder Stone, especially if he thinks to undo everything that I have done.” She held Linsay’s gaze until the other woman looked down. “That is something I suspect you do know about me.”

  When Linsay didn’t speak, Carth grabbed the Tsatsun board and began placing the pieces around the board. She pushed it in front of her, not caring that Linsay ignored her, and nodded to Boiyn.

  “You might find this easier to play than the makeshift board that we had before.”

  Boiyn studied the board. “There is so much detail to these pieces.”

  Carth chuckled, ignoring Linsay. “There is. Each piece is created for a particular purpose. There are those who have studied the game who speculate that the game board once represented something else.”

  “You’re a scholar now?” Boiyn asked.

  “Only a student of the game. In order for me to best understand it, I recognize that I needed to know the origins of the game and be able to understand why it was created, and if I could, then maybe I could understand other secrets behind it.”

  Boiyn laughed. “It is interesting that you have chosen this life for yourself. I think in another life, you would have made an excellent scholar. Perhaps you would have been an effective herbalist, as I understand your mother was.”

  “We are what life makes us,” Carth said. “And life has made me into something that I have needed to be.”

  Boiyn studied his hands. “And what do you think life has made me?”

  Carth smiled at him. “You are so much more than you have ever given yourself credit for. You are my friend, and your creations have helped so many more than you can imagine.”

  Boiyn’s eyes took on a distant expression. Carth knew that he struggled, and that he had always struggled, not with only himself but with his purpose in the world. He believed that he had a purpose, but it was often difficult, especially as people tried to use him, thinking that because he was an albino, he had some mystical property that had yet to be revealed.

  “That is the reason that I trust you,” Boiyn said. He looked up and glanced at Linsay before looking over at Carth. “That is why Alayna and Jenna will trust you. They know the truth of your heart. They know that you want only to help.” He turned his attention to Linsay. “You will not divide the others. I think that you know this, especially if you are the person I know you to be, but I thought the reminder would be good for you to hear.”

  He considered the board and moved one of the Rangers forward, pieces that made for a reasonable starting move.

  Carth countered, already seeing how he would play out the game and comfortable with the way that he would play. Linsay watched but didn’t say anything.

  Carth watched Linsay’s reaction almost as much as she watched the game board, curious as to how she would react to the playing of the game. Would she reveal herself as they played, or would she be able to keep her reactions in check?

  When Carth had moved her pieces in such a way that the game would be effectively settled, she noted Linsay’s attention begin to wane.

  “You’re not interested anymore?” Carth asked.

  Linsay glanced up at Carth. “I’ve never been quite as interested in Tsatsun as you.”

  “No? You’re turning away because of your lack of interest and not because the game is effectively over?”

  If she were able to determine that, then she would be even more skilled than Carth realized. There was still quite a bit of the game left to play, enough that it would be difficult for anyone without significant skill at Tsatsun to know that the game was done.

  “I’m turning away because I’m not interested in watching you play,” she said.

  Carth held her gaze a moment. “Maybe.”

  She turned back to Boiyn, who stared at the board. “It’s over?” he asked.

  Carth nodded. “I’m sorry. I would rather have you play out the round so that you can see how—and why. That’s the only way that you can learn from your mistakes.”

  Boiyn’s brow furrowed and he studied the board. “I think… I think that I see it. You would move here,” he said, placing one of her pieces to counter his. “And then I would have done this… or this.” With either move, there was a strong counter, and she was impressed that Boiyn was able to see it. “And then I would have tried this, but it wouldn’t have worked.” Boiyn sat back, staring at the board. “How long ago did you recognize that it was over?” he asked.

 
Carth glanced at Linsay. Did she reveal the truth—and risk the Collector knowing—or did she lie?

  At this point, it might not matter. She would keep Linsay with her until she was certain that the Collector wouldn’t cause any more trouble—and until she knew that she had the item he was after.

  “About a dozen moves ago,” Carth said.

  “A dozen? That would leave the game with so many possibilities! How were you able to realize that the game was done?”

  Linsay was watching her. “Because I’ve been playing a long time.”

  “It’s more than that,” Boiyn said. “It has to be.”

  “It’s a matter of knowing the various moves and thinking several ahead.”

  “For what you must have done—and do—you would have to think more than a few moves ahead.”

  Carth nodded. “More than a few. It takes time to train your mind to think in that way, but I suspect you would be good at it, Boiyn. The game helps you understand another person and know how they think. That’s my interest in it.”

  “You think that playing me will help you know how the Collector thinks?” Linsay asked.

  Carth shrugged. “You would have been trained by him, so I believe very much that you would provide insight into how he would play.”

  “That’s why you brought me here. Not out of compassion or out of an interest in saving me, but because you believe that I will somehow help you stop the Collector.” She sneered at Carth. “And the others are just going along with it. They’re letting you use me.”

  Carth stared at her. “I will prove that you’re what I know you to be.”

  “And that is?”

  “A spy. You have been spying on me from the beginning. What I can’t understand is why you would have been willing to do that. I thought you cared for us. I thought you appreciated the work we were doing.”

  “You holding me here shows your hypocrisy.”

  Carth stood and let out a deep sigh. “Will you watch her?” she asked Boiyn.

  He nodded. “I will watch her. What do you intend to do?”

  Carth wished that she knew. Sitting with Linsay had left her troubled, and she didn’t know what she should do. What she needed was information, but that seemed even farther away than it had been before. Somehow she would need to find what the Collector intended to do with the Elder Stone—and that was if she could even prove that such a thing was real.

  Linsay had not believed that it was, but then again, Linsay might have been telling her that because she was working on behalf of the Collector. Normally, she would have gone to Linsay for more information about the Stones, but now that she couldn’t trust her—or what she might say—she didn’t know where to turn.

  Which was how the Collector wanted it. He wanted to push her into a situation where she didn’t know what she could do. He wanted to force her into making a mistake, which was all the more reason for her to be careful, though caution might lead to inaction, and that would be just as dangerous as acting impulsively.

  “I don’t know.”

  Boiyn watched her, and she noted the worry in his eyes.

  14

  Carth followed the trail of light as it led toward the temple. A series of lanterns had been lit, each set off to either side of the street, guiding her way. The air was humid and she moved as quickly as she could, wanting to keep the priests in sight.

  She trailed after them, listening to their chanting as they went, their call in a language she didn’t understand and a request of their god, the Elder, that they believed had granted them power and strength. And who was Carth to think that this Elder had not? She had seen the way that the people of Keyall resisted her magic, so there was something here, though whether it was something they were born to or something they were gifted, she didn’t know.

  Yet her experience with magic like that told her that it probably was something unique to this place. Didn’t she have a unique connection to magic that was something only people from her homeland experienced? Why would it be so different for the people of Keyall?

  The chanting stopped and Carth stopped near them, watching from a measured distance. She was near enough that she could see the way they were draped in the black robes that she had some experience with, and near enough that she could hear the chanting, though she could not make out anything within it.

  The priest stood near the remains of the temple and began reading, his voice intoning in a steady baritone, calling out a chant to his god.

  Carth looked at the faces of the others who had congregated here but could not make out much. She thought she recognized some of the people, though that might have been imagined more than real. With the hoods covering their faces, Carth couldn’t tell whether she recognized anyone.

  She scooted closer, wanting to watch the ceremony. As she did, she could see the priest better. He carried with him a jug, and after chanting for a while, he tipped the jug to his lips and drank deeply from it. The light from their lanterns reflected off the water in the jug, giving it a strange gleaming appearance.

  One by one, each of the worshipers made their way forward and were offered a drink. None drank quite as much as the priest, and when they were all done, the priest took the jug back and placed a cap on it.

  The chanting resumed and each worshiper turned to face the water. From there they bowed, continuing their chant.

  Carth had experienced many different religions, and this was much like others she had seen, the same sort of devotion that many thought the gods required. Carth didn’t have what she would consider a devout faith. She often wondered if that was a problem, if her lack of belief in something greater posed a challenge, but why should it? She traveled often enough that she was never in a place long enough to offend—that is, until now. She had managed to offend the people of Keyall, as if her mere presence were enough to anger them.

  Carth thought she’d watched long enough and turned away, heading back into the city.

  She found Talia in a tavern along the road leading down to the docks. She sat at a table by herself, dressed in gray, her hair tied back, revealing her neck. She was lovely.

  She looked up when Carth took a seat. “You have your friend back. What do you need now?”

  Carth looked around the tavern. There were a dozen tables set up here, and most had a few people sitting at them. Most of the people were fishermen, though she noticed a trio of men who were likely merchants. They gamed in the far corner. Since she had attempted to chase off the Collector, trade had quickly returned.

  “What can you tell me about the Collector?”

  Talia turned her attention to her ale and sighed. “What is there to share? Since he came to Keyall, no one has been safe. He has gathered information, using it against others, forcing us to do as he wants.”

  “How much time have you spent with him?” If Linsay wouldn’t share what Carth needed, she would go to Talia and see what more she might be able to share.

  Talia sniffed. “With him? None.”

  Carth blinked. “None? You haven’t spent any time with him?”

  She shrugged. “He is very careful about who gets close to him. Very few have access to him, which is the way that he likes it. He prefers to give his orders through someone else.”

  Carth reached for Talia and brushed her cheek. “And what of the attack? He hit you.”

  Talia sniffed and turned her attention to her ale, focusing on it. “If only he had been the one to hit me. It would have made it better, I think. Instead, he used one of his men. He couldn’t even be bothered to strike me himself.”

  That reminded her too much of the Hjan. Carth had struggled to reach the man who had led them and had only managed to discover his identity by chance. Keeping the layer of anonymity would be a good way of making it even more difficult to bring him down.

  “But Rhain serves on the tribunal.”

  Talia nodded. “He’s not the Collector, though he works for him.”

  He wasn’t the Collector? He had b
een the man Carth had seen from the beginning, the man she had assumed was the Collector. If he wasn’t, then she had to think that he knew how to reach the Collector… unless there was another layer in there that she hadn’t yet determined.

  “That’s who I need to see,” she said.

  Talia snorted. “You don’t like things easy, do you, Carth?”

  “Why is that?”

  “He won’t be easy to reach. He’s not as difficult as the Collector, but he has a gated manor and employs dozens of guards. When you have as much wealth as he has, you draw attention, and then since he’s sat on the tribunal, he draws in another kind.”

  “Come with me,” Carth said.

  She took a drink of ale. “Where?”

  “To this man’s estate. Show me where to find him.”

  “You don’t understand, Carth. This isn’t the kind of person that you go chasing after. If you do this, you’re going to gain the attention of the constabulary and put yourself at risk of the tribunal again.”

  Carth shook her head. “I escaped from their prison. I’m not sure how much more notice I can give the tribunal.”

  “What happens if they catch you this time?” Talia asked. “If they see you, they’re not going to be looking to capture. If they see you this time, they’re going to be looking to kill.”

  Carth nodded. She was all too aware of the fact that they would hunt her. She suspected they were after her already.

  “Let me worry about that. You don’t have to come in with me. I just need you to show me where to find him.”

  Talia nodded slowly. “I’ll show you, but I’m not letting you do this by yourself.”

  Carth wanted to refuse Talia and turn her away, but she had seen the woman fight. She was incredibly skilled with her knives, and a skill like that gave Carth hope that perhaps she wouldn’t need to kill if they were attacked. Maybe they would be able to slow the merchant and his men long enough that Carth would be able to find out what she needed.

  “I would welcome your help.”