Comatose: The Book of Maladies Read online

  There was another splash, this time farther out.

  Sam looked down and saw one of the eels swirling around the end of her staff.

  How many of the stupid creatures were out here?

  More than enough to devour her if she slipped and fell in.

  She gathered herself, taking a deep breath, and started back. It had taken her the better part of the morning to get this deep into the swamp, and she wasn’t about to linger when she was barely able to cling to the staff. She had enough experience to know what would happen were her strength to fade, and she had no hope that Alec might attempt to place an augmentation. She hadn’t been gone long enough for him to do that.

  That meant it was up to her.

  Kyza!

  How was it that she had already failed?

  She hated the fact that she couldn’t make the crossing, much as she hated the fact that she still didn’t know how Elaine managed it. She had to make sure her mother didn’t find out that she had attempted this. Sam could only imagine what she would do if she knew. Already, she kept Sam from learning more about her abilities. If she found out that Sam was preparing for a crossing, would she do something to thwart her progress? Would she try to impede Sam’s efforts to learn more about what it would take to chase after Tray?

  And he was long gone. Tray didn’t have the same restrictions as Sam did. He had stolen a barge and was using that to make his way toward the Theln territory. More than that, Tray had a high-ranking Theln with him—a Theln who they now know is Tray’s real father. So if they were caught, Ralun would likely guide him to safety.

  Sam continued flipping her way back to shore. She angled in such a way as to draw the least amount of attention. It wouldn’t do for someone on shore to see her coming and going so often, though it was possible she would be detected, regardless. As far as she knew, Elaine had the entire shore monitored, which meant she would know the moment Sam attempted to leave.

  It was nearly evening by the time she made it back.

  Sam tapped the water from her staff, examining the length of wood, searching for signs of bite marks, but there were none. For a moment, she doubted herself. Maybe there hadn’t been any eels. Maybe she was letting her imagination get away from her. But if not eels, what else had been slamming into her staff as she made her way back to the city?

  If she were braver, she would risk jumping into the water to see if it were eels there, though Sam didn’t think she was that brave. No one was that brave.

  When she had her staff secured beneath her cloak, she started back into the city. She thought about returning to the palace, but it was still early enough that she didn’t want to do that. She could go to the university—and it had been a while since she’d seen Alec, so she probably should, but something drew her away.

  She’d left to try and get her head straight, but even that hadn’t worked. It didn’t help that Marin had escaped from custody—somehow breaking free from all the guards who had been sent for her—after Sam had thought she was captured. Now she was free, roaming the city, and potentially a threat at any time.

  Sam hadn’t had the heart to tell Alec. Yet.

  He needed to know, especially since he had been a part of what had happened before, but not until she knew more. At least this time, it didn’t seem as if Elaine intended to keep her from the pursuit.

  A part of Sam wondered if Marin would even try to attack her. She was interested in the princess, not in Sam, but maybe she still thought she could find Tray. What would she do if she learned Tray had left, gone to Ralun?

  As the sun fell and she crawled along the rooftops, Sam felt a certain peace in the city. It was the same peace she felt while out in the swamp, the peace that came from solitude. Maybe she wasn’t meant to experience anything other than solitude. Had she never learned that she was a Kaver, she would have remained a thief. Whether or not she served Bastan was of little consequence, though she suspected he felt otherwise. But solitude came with the territory, regardless.

  Thinking of Bastan drew her to the Caster section.

  It was easy enough to make the crossing, and no longer did she fear falling into the canals. As she flipped from one section to the next, she didn’t worry about the width of the canal, not as she once had. She didn’t bother concealing herself, either. Were she captured, she had a ring that would grant her free passage with the guards. She could flash that ring to the guards and cross the bridges, but where was the fun in that? Besides, Elaine would have wanted her to practice. At least, that was what Sam told herself.

  Night had fallen in full by the time she reached Caster.

  She remained in the shadows, engulfed by the darkness, her cloak wrapped around her. The swamp was a distant memory, though the trembling in her arms told her that the effect of the swamp was not a distant memory. She needed to be stronger, especially if she intended to make the crossing all the way to the other side of the swamp. There had to be some way for her to get strong enough—and quickly. But without augmentations, Sam wasn’t sure how she was going to manage it.

  Maybe that was the point. Maybe that was why Elaine was so adamant that she continue to train.

  Sam hated the idea that she wasn’t strong enough. She hated even more leaving her brother to venture off into a dangerous place with questions about himself. She had her own questions, and so far, she had failed to find the answers.

  Maybe Tray would be more successful than she had been.

  She noticed two men rushing through the city and decided to follow. Could they be Bastan’s men? They weren’t anyone that Sam recognized, though Bastan had lost a few men in the last attack. It was possible that he was recruiting.

  The man reached the edge of Caster and headed toward the bridge.

  Sam jumped off the street, using the staff to launch herself onto a nearby rooftop. The street ran along the edge of the canal before coming up to the bridge that crossed over and into another section. She followed more closely now, not worried about them catching her. It would be difficult for them to notice her following from the rooftops.

  As the streets intersected, Sam noticed a third figure appear. The first two seemed unperturbed by the sudden appearance of a third person, something that should be more alarming at this time of night.

  “Did you find it?” the newcomer asked.

  “He didn’t have it,” one of the others said.

  “He had to have had it. We have word that it was effective.”

  “You can’t trust them.”

  “You can with what he’s paying.”

  “How do you know that he’s offering more than Bastan?”

  Sam leaned over the edge of the roof, trying to get close enough to hear better. These weren’t Bastan’s men, and from the sound of it, they were working against him. These were the kinds of men that Bastan would want to know about.

  It was surprising because there weren’t too many people in the city who were willing to risk themselves against Bastan. Most feared offending him and risking his ire. It was one of the reasons Sam had always been impressed with Marin. She had never feared Bastan.

  “We know what he’s paying. You think he’s the only one with contacts throughout this section?”

  “He’s been here long enough that he is the only one with contacts here.”

  “And that will change.”

  “You’ll need to be careful. I heard that Bastan was willing to—”

  The newcomer raised a finger, silencing him. “Not here. We can’t have conversations here, or he’ll learn about them.”

  “You can’t believe he is that well-connected.”

  “I can, and I do. I’ve seen the way he seems to know things. Come on. Let’s cross over and get a few sections away. Then we can talk.”

  The men disappeared into the darkness.

  Sam decided to follow. She threw herself from the roof and jumped across the nearest canal, ducking back into the darkness to observe where the men went. They moved from Caster over into Do
lav, one of the neighboring sections. Sam knew Dolav nearly as well as she knew Caster, though it didn’t have quite the same flavor as Caster. There was a little more repeatability to Caster than she would find here. The men disappeared along the street, and Sam flipped up to one of the rooftops, racing along the top to see where they might have gone, but came up empty.

  Who would be working against Bastan? And who would be paying more than he would for whatever they were after?

  Both important questions.

  Without answers, she wasn’t sure that she should even go to Bastan, though knowing him, he would want to know, regardless.

  Sam slipped into the shadows and headed back to Caster.

  When she crossed the canal, she saw movement—and the sound of a fight. When she got near, she groaned to herself as she realized Bastan was involved and quickly joined in the battle.

  6

  Helping a Friend

  Fighting with the staff was easy—at least easy enough now that Sam had all the training she’d been given by her mother. When she thought back to how she’d used it to fight with before, she realized how little she’d known then. Elaine had taught her to not only balance on the canal staff, but how to use it more effectively as a weapon. Sam sent it spinning toward the brawl, a twirling barricade that prevented anyone from getting too close to her.

  The first man went down, his sword clattering to the cobblestones.

  Who fought with swords in this section of the city?

  Getting caught with the blade was a sure way to end up in the prison, and most people were smart enough to know that they shouldn’t risk that, especially not here. But she didn’t recognize this man, so maybe he wasn’t smart enough to know what he should have in the section.

  As she turned to the next attacker, she wondered whether there was another reason. Maybe a sword wasn’t forbidden for him to possess the way it was for so many others.

  If that was the case—and if he worked at the palace—that meant these men would be guards.

  As she knocked the next one down, she glanced briefly for any sigil that would indicate this was one of the palace guards, but she saw nothing.

  “I had this,” Bastan said.

  Sam got closer to him, practically shoulder to shoulder, and smacked the next attacker with her staff. He went spinning away, spiraling to the ground where he flopped forward. She smacked him once more with her staff just for good measure. It was better to keep him from moving and getting up to come after her.

  “Five against one? Bastan, I think even you needed some help.”

  Bastan punched the nearest attacker, moving past his sword, somehow managing to strike the man before he was able to react. Sam lunged forward, slamming her staff down on him to complete it.

  That left one attacker.

  She spun around, looking for where he went, but the street was quiet.

  There were only the motionless attackers, now lying bleeding and broken on the cobblestones.

  “You could say thanks,” Sam said. She looked over at Bastan. His silver hair was slicked back, and a sheen of sweat dripped down his cheek. A small gash had been opened below one eye.

  “As I said, I had this.”

  “There were five attackers, and only one of you. I know you’re skilled”—she didn’t know how skilled a fighter Bastan was, but knew that he had to have been fairly talented, especially considering the fact that he had survived in his position as long as he had—“but even you have limits.”

  “As do you, Samara.”

  Bastan knelt before one of the men and began rifling through his pockets. He pulled a few coins free and tossed them on the cobbles. Sam quickly grab them up, ignoring Bastan’s soft grunt as she did. He might have enough coin, but she didn’t always, and she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to have more. She never knew when her fortunes would change, and she would suddenly become dependent on what she was able to save.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m looking to see why these men would risk carrying swords.”

  “Your men risk carrying swords.”

  “Not openly.”

  Sam realized what he implied. Three of the men had scabbards strapped to their waists, and none of them wore cloaks that would conceal them. They would have been openly carrying swords.

  “They’re not guards. They don’t have the sigil.”

  “No. I didn’t think they were guards. They haven’t sent anyone against me in quite some time.”

  “They? As in the Anders family?”

  Bastan stood and dusted his hands on his pants. There was a single cut along his pant leg, as well, this one fairly deep. It bled and soaked the fabric.

  “We need to get you to someone who can help you with that,” she said, nodding to his leg.

  “I will manage just fine, Samara.”

  “Kyza take you, Bastan. All I want to do is help.”

  “And you have. Trust me, Samara, you have helped.”

  “And still no thanks,” she muttered.

  She leaned over the remaining men and went through their pockets, grabbing the handfuls of coins that she could find. Bastan watched, amusement on his face as she did. “What?”

  “Only that you don’t have the same need of coin you once did, and yet you still pilfer as if you are the street thief I raised.”

  “I was more than a street thief.”

  “Yes, you are much more than a street thief. And I don’t say that as a way to insult you, Samara. Far from it. I have the utmost respect for your abilities.”

  “What was this about? Between this and the men that I saw—”

  The smile faded from his face abruptly. “What men?”

  “There were men. I don’t know. I came here for…” Sam didn’t know why she had come to Caster, other than its familiarity. She should have returned to the palace, and she should have avoided coming here where it was all too easy to get embroiled in such minor conflicts when there was something much larger that she needed to resolve. “Whatever. I came here for some reason and overheard these men. They were talking about you.”

  “Tell me about them,” Bastan said.

  Sam described the men to him and what she’d overheard, and as she did, Bastan’s brow furrowed. “What is it? Who are they?”

  “Nothing more than a rival.”

  Sam arched a brow, watching Bastan with amusement. “A rival. I didn’t think you had any rivals.”

  “Not in Caster, but there are dozens of other sections to this city, Samara. I don’t have the same control of them as I do of Caster.”

  “I don’t think you have complete control of Caster, either.”

  “No? And if not me, then who?”

  Sam waved way the question. She didn’t need to get into an argument with Bastan, especially not about something like this. “Who is this rival?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I will take care of it.”

  “It does matter, especially if they intend to attack you.”

  Bastan glanced over at her. He had been studying something on the ground, and Sam nudged close to him, forcing him to take a step out of the way. There were shards of glass on the ground, though she couldn’t see why that was important. Maybe it wasn’t, or maybe there was something that Bastan knew and wasn’t telling her. She reached for one of the shards, and Bastan grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back.

  “What’s that about?”

  “That’s about their way of attempting to attack me.”

  “Other than coming at you with swords?”

  “They knew the swords would be ineffective. This attack was something else.”

  If Sam thought that Bastan might explain more, she was mistaken. She shrugged and turned away from him, looking along the street. “You know I can help,” she said.

  “Can you? After everything that you’ve done and become, are you allowed to help someone like me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Only because you serve a
very different master now than you did when you worked with me.”

  “I think you’re mistaking the phrasing. It’s not that I worked with you so much as you made me work for you.”

  Bastan started down the street, and Sam trailed along. When he turned the corner, two massive men appeared. For a moment, Sam thought they might attack, but Bastan leaned close to them and whispered something. Without saying a word, they hurried off, disappearing along the street in the direction that she and Bastan had come from.

  His men.

  She wondered briefly what he would do with the attackers, before deciding that it didn’t matter. She had struck two of them with her staff hard enough to break bones. Without reaching a physicker, they weren’t going to recover very easily or quickly. Knowing Bastan, they would be tormented for information. She wasn’t naïve enough to be offended by that.

  “Something’s going on, Bastan. Something more than what you’re telling me.”

  “There is nothing more going on,” he said. “Do you think this is the first time that I’ve faced a challenger?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been around you when you’ve been attacked like this.”

  “Then let me tell you that it’s not. And you have been around me when I’ve been attacked. You were there when my tavern was destroyed.”

  “That was different. That was—”

  “Yes. The Thelns. I seem to recall encountering them.”

  Sam glanced back to the street. In this section of Caster, all of the buildings were made of stone, and most of them had parts of their faces crumbling. Attempts at maintenance had been done over the years, but the masons who created these buildings had a much different skill set than those who had attempted to restore them. There was simply no comparison to the original work.

  Wind gusted through, and it carried with it the smells from the canal. Sam suspected she stank of the canal, as well, though there was little to be done for it now. As likely as not, she wasn’t nearly as obscured as she had thought. How much had her stench carried?