tight. Another volley of bolts tore into the guards. The commonfolk screamed and fled, even the few who had desired a bit of spectacle. A single errant shot was all it’d take to cross their role from spectator to dead participant.
Men in tattered green cloaks and crossbows in hand surrounded Kayla and Haern. Several others held long dirks, and grinning feral grins they dared the remaining guards to attack. In their indecision, more crossbow bolts shot at gaps in their armor. Whoever remained their leader, for a good many were dead, raised his arm and shouted a command. The guards turned tail and fled back to Keenan’s mansion.
“Stand up, girl,” one of the green cloaks said to her.
Kayla glanced up to see a bearded ruffian smiling at her. His eyes were green, and covering both cheeks were tattoos of snakes, one red, one emerald.
“The Serpents have no business in this,” she told him, doing her best to add a hard edge to her voice. It was the voice she used when someone offered to pay far less than her information was worth, or even worse, refused to pay at all.
“The Serpent Guild chooses its business,” the man said. “Now get off your ass. We have places to go.”
There were eight of the Serpents, and with their crossbows loaded, they searched up and down the street, which was slowly returning to its normal hum of voices and trade. Kayla started to ask where they were to go, but then the bearded man struck her with his fist. Rough hands grabbed her wrists and yanked her to her feet. Another grabbed Haern and hoisted him up.
“Hope he’s worth it,” another of the serpents said.
“Someone Keenan wants?” the bearded man said. “He’s worth it.” He turned to his two captives. “Keep your mouths shut and your feet moving, or you’ll find out just how much venom a serpent can spit.”
Kayla was in no shape to argue. She squeezed Haern’s hand, and he squeezed back. For a moment, she thought of telling the serpents who they had in their possession, but a sudden fear filled her. They might kill her so they could pretend ignorance until after selling the boy to the highest bidder. Yet while the boy lived, she was a valuable asset in discovering his name and true worth. She kept her mouth shut. Until her life seemed in immediate danger she would keep her mouth shut and wait.
Through the street they marched, the green cloaks encircling and protecting their recent acquisition. They took a winding path through the streets, but the general direction was west. When she realized this, Kayla perked up, her eyes searching the blur of faces they passed. Any one of them might be reporting to Thren.
The bearded man led them on an abrupt turn to their left, passing between two vendors selling apples and pears. The serpents’ crossbows fidgeted in their hands, and their eyes seemed to be all the more alert. They hurried along, jabbing Kayla harder in the back. She assumed the entrance to the Serpent Guild’s hideaway was near. Where it was, she didn’t know, considering she wasn’t affiliated with any of the guilds. She’d rather sell information in her own quiet way and avoid the death warrant that joining one almost always entailed. No intelligent person could say the Trifect was winning their little war, but they certainly had eliminated a large portion of Veldaren’s underworld. The thieves could recruit with promises of wealth and murder, while the wealthy nobles had to hand over real coin. Kayla had an idea which one would run out first.
A shrill whistle rang out above them. To either side of the group were giant homes, four stories tall, each one crammed tight with families barely able to scrape together a living. A few of the green cloaks looked up, but saw nothing.
Kayla, however, had much sharper eyes than they, and what she saw was the barest hint of a gray cloak leaping across a building. She felt her heart race, and it took all her will to keep a smile off her face.
“Keep going,” the bearded man said. Kayla let her body slacken, and she acted as if a fainting spell was coming over her.
“What is your-aw shit, someone grab her,” she heard one of them say. Acting weak wasn’t a tough chore. She hadn’t eaten anything for at least eight hours, and between fighting guards, leaping over gates, climbing trees, and running for her life, she had used up whatever bit of energy she might have had left. Someone grabbed her arms, and another her neck, but a clever twist of her body pulled her free. Like a dead fish, she flopped to the hard dirt, biting down hard on her tongue upon landing. When she coughed, blood flecked across her lips.
“Get her up,” the bearded man ordered. “Quick, I said get her up!”
Another whistle from above. Now all the serpents looked up, and a few saw the gray cloaks. Hands reached underneath her armpits to yank her to her feet. She thought she might resist, but then two sharp whistles stopped them.
“Let her go, Galren,” a voice shouted from down the street. Kayla felt a slight gasp escape her throat. She had heard that voice once before, only once, but that was enough to forever remember its deep power and unyielding authority.
“This is no concern of yours,” said the bearded man, apparently Galren.
A man stepped out from an alley, his face hidden by the hood of his cloak.
“It is my concern,” he said. “And you’re a damn fool if you think otherwise. Veldaren is my city, serpent, mine, and I know more of your guild than you do. Did you think you could kidnap and sell my son without my knowing?”
“Your son? ” Galren sounded like he might wet himself. Kayla stifled a laugh.
Thren had come for what was his.
“Yes,” Thren said, approaching with his bare hands hovering just above his shortswords. His next words came out almost a whisper. “My son.”
Gray cloaks descended from the rooftops. Arrows shot from windows. Death came upon them swiftly, and only Galren remained standing after the sudden assault, his arms pinned behind him, a waiting present for Thren as he approached. Without a word, the guildmaster slashed open the bearded man’s throat, then quickly stepped aside to avoid blood splashing across his clothes. A little stained his hands, but he wiped them clean on a cloth provided by one of his men.
Haern stood and bowed to his father.
“You have much to tell me,” Thren said, motioning for him to stand. He then pointed to Kayla, who had gotten to her knees and lowered her eyes in respect. “What was her role in all of this?”
Haern answered without hesitation, and to his father’s surprise, he did not whisper.
“She saved my life,” he said. “And not just once, but many times.”
Thren nodded. He sheathed his sword and offered a hand to Kayla. She took it, her mouth hanging slack.
“I do not know your name, nor who you might have sworn your life to,” he said. “But I offer you a place at my side, so that I might one day repay you for the kindness you have shown my son.”
She thought of the coin rattling inside the perfume jars and how it was a pittance compared to Thren’s wealth. Accepting might mean death, but the position was an incredible honor.
“I accept,” she said while bowing. “Humbly, and undeserving, I accept.”
They took them to Thren’s hidden hideaway. Though she needed rest, she sneaked out to handle one quick matter first.
She walked by Undry’s perfume shop, opened the door, and then continued on without even slowing. Undry collapsed on the counter, scattering bottles of perfume and raising a horrendous stench. Deep in his fat breast lodged a dagger.
When she returned to her room in Thren’s hideaway, she found a yellow rose lying on her pillow. Below it, formed out of twelve stones arranged just so, was the letter H.
3
T he message had come yet again, and this time James Beren was tempted to shout out his Ash Guild’s response at the top of this lungs. At least that would get Thren off his ass. Either that, or a dagger stabbed into it, but by this point he might have preferred the brutal attempt than the sickeningly sweet diplomacy Thren seemed prone to lately.
“Shall we give our usual answer?” asked Veliana, his right hand man…although being a woman, he figured he
