Keith Baker - The City of Towers

Daine studied his counterpart carefully. “Is he dangerous?”

“Who isn’t?” Alina lazily swirled her wine about in the goblet.

“How do you know he hasn’t left the city?”

“I have my ways.”

“Helpful as always. Is there anything in particular about him that we ought to know?”

“Now that you mention it … if you should cross blades, I suggest that you don’t let him touch you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all you need to know.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Daine turned away from the mirror. “Look, Alina, I’ll be the first to admit that we can use this money. But why are you doing this? You could hire a Tharashk inquisitive for a fraction of what you’re offering us. Are you telling me you can’t find him yourself?”

“Daine,” she said reproachfully, “you won’t take my gifts. Can’t I help out an old friend by giving him a simple job?”

“Your gifts are never free, and we were never friends. What’s your angle here?”

She laughed. “It seems ten years isn’t such a long time after all. You know me too well. You’re right. I have a reason for wanting to use you for this.”

“Fresh faces?” said Jode.

“Indeed. There is a delicate balance of power in this city. Rasial has friends. If he has betrayed me, there are people who can trace my usual sources. You’re outsiders. You can’t be immediately connected to me.” She smiled. “And if anything bad happens to you, what have I really lost?”

“Funny,” said Daine.

“Lady Lyrris,” Jode interjected. “I assume that time is of the essence. What can you tell us about Rasial or his associates? How many shards does he have? How large are they?”

Alina reached under the sofa and produced a small packet wrapped in black leather. “All of the details are here.” She tossed the packet to Daine and then produced a smaller purse. “Here’s a few sovereigns. It should be enough to get you started. Let me know if you need more. And now, if you don’t mind, I do have other business to attend to.”

She gestured toward the door, and it opened again.

“By the way, Daine?” she said as they were leaving.

“Yes?”

“If I were you, I’d buy a sword.”

If the dragonmarked houses held power to rival nations, then the district of Dragon Towers was where they maintained their embassies and consulates. Dozens of shops promised the mystical services of the true heirs of each house, and beyond these little businesses lay the enclaves of the houses themselves-massive towers where the heirs lived and learned their arts. The Great Healing Hall of House Jorasco was the largest to be found in Breland, and Sivis Tower was a nexus for communication across Khorvaire. The services of the dragonmarked were expensive, and the people who thronged the streets were not the peasants and beggars found on the lower level. Here aristocrats rubbed shoulders with knights and merchant princes. The street was a tapestry of colorful silk, and the air filled with the scents of rare perfumes and the exotic spices of the Ghallanda vendors.

Pierce and Lei made their way through this glorious chaos. Although the streets were crowded, most people made way for the warforged soldier. But even as Pierce scanned the streets for any possible threats, his thoughts were on the Lady Lei. Pierce had an intuitive understanding of combat. A shifting shadow, the glint of a blade, the smell of fire-he would know how to respond to such things. But he had no guidelines for the sorrow of a friend. It was not the first time he had seen pain or anger. He himself still felt the loss of each comrade who had fallen in the war-a hollow emptiness when he envisioned the faces of Jholeg or Jani. But no one had ever taught him what to do with these feelings or how to address the sorrow of another. So he cleared the way for the Lady Lei and waited for her emptiness to pass on its own.

Ahead he saw the sign of a smithy; the hammer-and-anvil seal of House Cannith was emblazoned below the name of the smith. “My lady, should we begin our inquiries with this armorer?”

Lei glanced up at the sign and shook her head. “No. Black anvil.”

Lei was speaking less frequently than usual. It seemed reasonable to assume that talking would help repair her damaged spirit. “I do not understand the significance of the color. Is it not your-uh, the seal of House Cannith?”

Lei sighed. “The powers of the house extend far beyond the actual heirs of the mark, Pierce.” While her voice remained dull, she began to fall into her usual lecturing cadence. “Each house has found ways to apply the powers of its mark to provide services to the people of Khorvaire. But the houses have extended their influence farther into these fields. The black anvil indicates that the smith has been trained and licensed by a Cannith guild and that his work will meet the standards set by the house. But he is not an heir of the blood and could be of no use to us.”

“I understand, my lady.”

“Cannith Tower is the central enclave of the house.” She pointed at the silver spire rising up ahead. “That’s where we’ll get our answers … if they’ll speak to me.”

“You have doubts?”

“If … if what that Domo said is true,” she said, “then yes, I have doubts.” She reached out, resting her hand on his mithral shoulder. “I just don’t know what to expect. I thought the war was finally over.”

“Perhaps the war is never won,” Pierce said. “We must simply find satisfaction in survival.”

Lei tightened her grip on his shoulder, and they continued on their way.

Cannith Tower was a masterpiece, a testimony to the architectural talents of the House of Making. Silver threads had been embedded into the surface of the stone walls, creating the impression of a glittering web of light rising into the sky.

“I remember when I first saw the tower,” Lei said. “I came here to study firebinding.” She pointed to a window high on the tower. “My cousin Dasei and I stayed in that room while we were learning. She couldn’t bind to save her life, but she always managed to charm her way through the challenges.” She shook her head.

While Pierce listened, his attention was on the defenses of the tower. For all that they appeared to be leaded glass, he had no doubt that the windows were mystically hardened to resist physical damage. There was one central gate, and five guards spread before it. All five were identical warforged-massive warriors built from gray adamantine alloy. They stood as still as statues, but Pierce had no doubt that they had already spotted him and were evaluating the threat he might pose. Each of the ’forged carried a long hammer and a shield bearing the Cannith seal. Pierce couldn’t spot the slightest scratch on the polished skin of any of the soldiers. This could reflect a lack of combat experience, or it could be a fringe benefit of working for the House of Making. While combat seemed unwise, Pierce loosened the chain of his flail. Should Lady Lei be threatened, he needed to be ready.

“Are you certain this is a wise course of action, my lady?”

“Don’t worry, Pierce. There is no question of violence here.” Nonetheless, he could hear fear in her voice. “Follow my lead.”

Lei took a deep breath and walked up to the gate. One of the warforged moved to block her path.

Lei made a sharp gesture with her hand. “Stand aside, guardsman. I have dealings with the baron of this house and have no time for underlings.”

Pierce was watching the guard’s face, and he saw a slight motion as the warforged looked down to examine Lei’s fingers. While Lei had the imperious manner of a noble, she no longer had her ring, and the guardsman held his ground.