The Binder's Game (The Sighted Assassin Book 1) Read online

  “They weren’t like him,” the lutist said softly.

  I turned to him.

  “He came after, and with another. They made me stay as they searched…”

  “Then what?” I demanded.

  “The other one, he left. They made me wait… wait…”

  “For what?”

  “For her,” he said, tipping his head to Carth.

  Carth lifted the man we had secured and hauled him to his feet.

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “This is beyond you, Galen of Elaeavn.”

  “No. Talia is involved. Who are they?”

  Carth reached the door of the tavern before answering. “You have it wrong, Galen of Elaeavn. Talia is not now involved. She has been involved all along.”

  Then she pulled open the door and walked into the street.

  23

  She had taken to the roofs, carrying the prisoner with her as if he weighed nothing, jumping from roof to roof, not slowed at all. I remained in the streets.

  The festival would continue late into the night and hundreds of people were still out, though most in much worse shape than they had been even an hour earlier. I passed occasional fights and the shouts of drunk men, and ignored the amorous displays that I saw hidden in darkness.

  As I followed Carth, it became evident where she traveled.

  At first, I thought she would make her way back to her hidden hospital. That was where I had found her in the past, and it would make sense for her to return there, but the more I thought about it, the less that made sense. Were she to go there, and were something to go wrong with her prisoner, he would know where she hid. I suspected she thought it was bad enough that I knew about the place, though she had been the one to lead me there.

  I didn’t need to follow to know where she headed. When we reached the docks and she jumped from the nearest building, six other women emerged from shadows and surrounded me. Carth waved a hand and they relaxed, settling back into the shadows as she carried the man onto the ship.

  She said nothing until she was below deck and had secured the man to a long table with another length of the same bluish silver chain.

  “You should not have followed,” she said softly.

  “With what happened to Talia—”

  She cut me off with a shake of her head and motioned to the man. Only then did I realize that he was already starting to awaken. Carth pulled the dart from his arm and tossed it to me.

  I’d used coxberry on him. Coxberry had predictable effects, but was metabolized differently. With some, the effect of coxberry would wear off quickly. For others, the effect would linger for hours. It had been less than thirty minutes since I’d dosed this man, and I would have expected him to take much longer to come around.

  But he started thrashing, pushing at the chains and failing. The strange colors that I’d earlier seen swirling around him returned, but faded quickly. Whatever chains Carth used contained him.

  His eyes snapped open and he took in Carth and then me. His eyes narrowed. “A mistake, Carth,” he hissed. “You know the warning—”

  She slammed the flat edge of a knife against his chest, and he snapped his mouth shut. “And you knew the price if you violated peace.”

  He blinked. “You blame us for this?”

  “I know what Venass thinks they can accomplish, and I know how little you care the cost.”

  He sniffed. “This was not Venass. We simply observed.”

  “Observed. Is that how you will defend your actions? When the accords are questioned—”

  “There will be no question,” the man said, sounding more at ease than I would have expected for someone chained to a hard table and with a woman as dangerous as Carth staring down at him. Then again, she treated him with a hint of respect, making me wonder if maybe he might be as dangerous as her.

  I knew nothing of Venass, much like I knew nothing of C’than, Carth’s homeland. In that way, Carth was right. I had been sheltered for many years. Isander tried bringing me from that shelter, but there was only so much he could teach, especially when it came to understanding a world I had been isolated from while growing up.

  “No question. What happened in that tavern—”

  “Was not us.”

  Carth met his eyes and took a few slow breaths. The muscles in her cheeks clenched slightly, as if she worked through what response she would give.

  “Tell me, Heln, who I should blame.” Carth stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and a fierce angry light burning in her eyes. “Do you think the men of this town capable enough to overcome mine?”

  “And yet that is what happened,” Heln said.

  Carth paced around the small hold, studying the table and the man on it. I didn’t know what to expect from her, but the agitation within her was clear. I didn’t know Carth well, but seeing her this way was unsettling.

  “Do you really think that we would violate the accords for this place?” Heln asked with a sneer.

  “Then why have you come?”

  “To observe only, Carth of C’than. That is why I remained, at least until you attacked me.” Carth looked as if she wanted to strike him, but refrained. “Tell me, do you not observe the same as the Hjan? Was that not the price?”

  She slipped her knife back into a hidden sheath with a frustrated sigh and then turned to Heln.

  I didn’t expect what she did next.

  She unchained him.

  He smiled and sat up slowly, rubbing his hands over his wrists. “You will still have to answer for what you did me.”

  “I will answer for nothing. As you, apparently, answer to no one.”

  Heln offered a small smile and stood. “We all must answer, Carth. That is the price of the accords.”

  “Do not think to lecture me,” she said with a whisper.

  He smiled at her and turned his attention to me. “I have you to thank?”

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For my rest. I must say that I have had better rest before, but never in such interesting accommodations.”

  “You live,” Carth said. “You should thank him for that.”

  “Ah, to live. You still believe that is the only goal of the Hjan of Venass.”

  “I think we both know you wanted that to happen. What I’d like to know is who hired you.”

  He started toward the stairs before turning and spreading his hands. “You will often wonder without knowing. That is the fate that has been granted to you.”

  Heln reached the stairs and disappeared into the shadows, fading with a flash of color before disappearing completely.

  Carth stared after him, a troubled expression on her face. “What is this about, Carth? Where did they take everyone in the tavern? Where did he take Talia?”

  She shook her head. “This is beyond you. I allowed you to accompany me because you helped with the capture, but now you must leave.”

  “Where is Talia?”

  She shook her head. “Now that the Hjan are involved, we might not know.”

  “What are they?”

  “Danger,” was her answer. She started away from me, leaving me alone in the hold of her ship without any answers.

  24

  “Why have you come to me again, Galen?” Orly asked.

  I had debated coming to him, hating to involve him any more than needed. Any time that I pulled Orly into what I did, the tighter he pulled me back. Perhaps that was his intent. If it were up to him, I would work solely for him, but thankfully the money that Carth had provided meant that I was in no rush to take another job.

  The problem was that I was still in the midst of the last job Orly had hired me to complete. I still didn’t intend to complete it, but then I think Orly knew that.

  “A friend of mine was abducted last night,” I said.

  Orly sat back in his chair, puffing on a long pipe. The bitter smoke filled my nose, drifting around the tavern and creating a haze around him. He had lit the pipe
the moment I entered, I suspect thinking to counter my Sight. And it did, to an extent, but there were other ways my Sight benefited me.

  Two men stood behind him, the same as the last time. I didn’t doubt that both would be quick with their sword, or that Orly might have others in the tavern I hadn’t identified.

  “And you think this matters to me?”

  It didn’t, not in the way that it mattered to me. I hadn’t bothered trying to find Carth again, knowing that if she didn’t want to be found, she would not be. Once she left me on her ship, she had decided that she would not be available to me.

  Somehow, I had to learn about the Hjan on my own. In Eban, I had plenty of contacts, but they were for information about the kinds of people I could find in the city, not about men able to counter one of the most capable people I had ever met.

  But Orly had his own sources of information, and what I had experienced would have value to him, if only I could find a way to use it.

  “I think it matters that others were killed to make sure it happened.” The stink of the tavern told me that there had been more than what I’d seen, much as the dried blood on the lutist indicated the same.

  “Strange things happen on Landing Festival,” Orly commented.

  “That’s all you have to say?” I asked. “Do you no longer control what happens throughout this part of the city?”

  I decided to play to his ego, and his sense of power. With Orly, that was a safe bet.

  Orly breathed out a trail of smoke and tipped his head toward someone I couldn’t see clearly. I think he did it mostly to bother me, but he couldn’t really know how little I could see from where I sat. “Tell me, Galen, have you decided that you’re going to finish the job I asked of you?”

  The question caught me off guard. “I thought I made it clear what my answer to that question was,” I said.

  Orly inhaled, the air clearing slightly. As it did, I saw the men standing behind him more easily. The nearest, the one I was convinced was a Neelish sellsword, watched me with an amused expression. His hand hovered above the hilt of his sword. I didn’t need a demonstration to know how quickly he could reach it.

  “Clear at the time, but I thought you might have reconsidered.”

  “Why would I have reconsidered?”

  Orly only shrugged. “You were seen at Benahg’s old estate,” he commented. “Did you not cause enough destruction that last time you were there?”

  I sniffed and tried to keep the frustration from my face. I had thought that I’d hidden myself better than I had, unless Orly had connections to the men guarding the man I’d incapacitated. I didn’t think that Carth’s woman would share that I’d been there, but I hadn’t considered the possibility that she might have shared with Orly to keep herself in her position. The affection she had for the man had been real, no longer simply an assignment.

  “I thought you’d be more interested in learning what I’ve seen,” I said, making as if to push my chair back.

  Orly inhaled the smoke from his pipe, clearing the air around him. He studied me, and as he did, one of his men hurried over to him and leaned into his ear, whispering softly. When the man finished, he moved to stand along one of the walls.

  Orly continued watching me, his face unreadable. “The Brite Pot.”

  I nodded.

  “You were not there.”

  “Not at the time.”

  “And you do not know what happened.”

  “Do you?” I asked. I wanted to needle Orly a bit. I needed to get him to slip, if only a little. Usually his control was such that he managed to think steps ahead of me. Mostly that was because of everything that he knew, but Orly was smart. He wouldn’t have become the primary thief-master in Eban if not for that. I had little doubt that Orly had his sights set beyond Eban.

  He settled his hands on the table and leaned slightly forward. His gray eyes matched his shortly cut silver hair. “Tell me what you would ask of me, Galen.”

  I couldn’t tell if my gamble had paid off or if he simply wanted to be rid of me. The last time I had seen Orly, he’d been sitting at this very table, casually rolling the dice that were now stacked to the side of him, each time coming up with ones. The Watcher’s Eyes, to gamblers. I had been surprised to see Orly dicing since most considered it a game of chance, but then I had seen how regularly the dice came up Eyes. Not chance, at least, not to Orly.

  I picked up the dice and shook them in my hand. It had been years since I’d diced with any regularity, back before leaving Elaeavn. Dice was considered a safe game, one that the Great Watcher would approve. Outside Elaeavn, other games were favored. In Eban, cards were commonly preferred, though I’d seen a few games of Stocks, a board game more often played in Cort.

  With a shake, I sent the dice across the table. Five and three. An unlucky combination.

  Orly didn’t bother to look, but a soft smile played across his lips. “Are you going to answer, or are you going to gamble? I’d dice with you, Galen, but I doubt that you’d much appreciate the outcome.”

  “Have you ever heard of a place called Venass?” I asked.

  Orly’s smile faded slowly. “Ah, not gambling then,” he said, taking the dice from the table. “That is… unfortunate. I would have loved to have the opportunity to play sometime.” He picked his pipe up and placed it in his mouth, pulling in a deep breath. “I have heard of Venass,” he finally said, breathing out enough smoke to cloud his face once more. The smoke was bitter and carried a different bite than the usual tobanash men preferred. “I am surprised that you have not.”

  “Call me sheltered.”

  “Yes. Let’s.”

  “What do you know of Venass?” I asked.

  “Interesting that after what you say happened, that is your question,” Orly observed.

  I shrugged, thinking of what I’d seen at the Brite Pot and knowing that there was nothing that would push that out of my mind. Was Carth even searching for Talia or had she given up, abandoning her to her fate, no differently than she had when I’d found Talia sliced across the throat in the street?

  “After what I’ve seen, that’s the one question I want the answer to,” I said.

  At first, I wondered if Orly might refuse to answer. He could be particular about what he said, much as I could be particular about what jobs I took. There had been times when I thought he might answer me and he’d chosen to tune me out or ignore me altogether. That was the price of doing business with Orly, much like the price for working with me included the possibility that I might not take the job.

  “A place of study,” Orly began, “where many arcane arts can be learned. Some would call them scholars, but I think that a strong term for what I’ve seen of those who study there.”

  “Scholars?” I asked. “As in Asador?”

  Orly sniffed softly. “Asador is more along the lines of what I think of when I consider scholars,” he answered. “They search for answers from the heavens, debate philosophy, and seek to understand the weather. That is scholarship, I think.”

  “And Venass?”

  Orly took a slow breath, drawing in the smoke from his pipe a moment and letting it linger. “Venass seeks a different kind of answer.”

  “What kind of answer?”

  He shrugged. “One that all men ask. Power. Why is it that some have it and others do not.”

  I laughed softly. “How is that so much different than what they study in Asador?” It had been years since I visited Asador, dragged along on one of Isander’s studies, searching for a book on flowers, he had claimed. Later I had learned that Isander was less concerned with flowers than he had been on the uses of the flowers, finding ways to turn them into poisons. Many were skilled at that, but few had the same elegance that Isander managed.

  “You ask questions about power when you have it.”

  I laughed again. “You think I have power, Orly?”

  “You do not? Do you not choose whether men live or die? How is that not power?”
/>
  “I choose after you give assignments.” And I was always fully aware that if I didn’t take a job, then another might. My techniques usually ensured that others weren’t harmed. The same couldn’t be said about the other assassins found within the city, many of whom did not truly make their living as assassins, only working when the price was right. “In that way, you have the power,” I said.

  Orly blew smoke toward me. Through it, I could see the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Ah, but I also chase power. Perhaps with not the same fervor as they do in Venass, but I do not deny my interest.”

  “How do they chase power in Venass?”

  He set the pipe down and the smoke cleared again. “What did you see, Galen?”

  I considered my answer. If I said nothing, it was possible that Orly wouldn’t share anything with me, and I’d already gotten more out of him than I had expected.

  “I saw one of the Hjan.”

  Orly made no expression, no reaction, to the mention of the Hjan. That didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the name. “Had you seen one of the Hjan, you would be dead,” he said softly. “You are skilled, Galen. That’s why I hire you. But there are those with abilities and talents that outstrip anything that you possess.”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed. “That doesn’t change the fact of what I saw.”

  “When did you see this person?”

  “Last night.”

  “The Brite Pot, I presume? You think the Hjan interested in attacking a tavern?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t really know what they would be interested in, only that they were powerful.

  “And were you alone?”

  I debated lying to Orly and telling him that I was, but that wouldn’t do any good, especially if he learned that I was with Carth, which I suspected he would. “Carth of C’than was with me.”

  The sellsword behind Orly tensed.

  “How is it that you know how to find her so easily?” Orly asked.

  “I wouldn’t say that I know how to find her easily. It’s more that she finds me,” I answered. “What are the Hjan?”