Gabriella was leaning casually against the bar top, dipping black bread into gravy, when Crowe and Feyn returned. Feyn looked at her with a mix of curiosity and fear, and Gabriella knew instinctively that Crowe had made clear to him that the apparent joke he had told about her was indeed the truth.
'It's all right, God-girl,' Crowe said, as if reading her mind. 'We're all looking for the same truth today.'
'It must rankle you, being in here.' Feyn said.
'I didn't come here to cause trouble.' Gabriella said.
'No, so your friend — my friend here, actually — has told me.' Feyn sat on a stool next to her and nodded to the man behind the bar. 'Bring us some paper and charcoal sticks.'
'Is one of us writing a confession?'
'The deal is this,' Crowe said. 'Feyn is going to talk to you, set your mind at ease. He'll help you remember.'
'I remember perfectly well.' She saw his face in her dreams now and again, whether she wanted to or not.
'Forgive me for wanting to be sure you're not wilfully misleading me,' Feyn replied.
Crowe cleared his throat. 'You, Dez, will scribble down the face of the assassin you caught. Hopefully, Feyn here will recognise him.'
'What if he doesn't?'
'Then we go our separate ways. If he does, though — and I bet he will — then you get his name and a lead on Goran Kell and the Brotherhood knows who to call on and put down.'
Gabriella knew that Feyn wouldn't honour his end of the bargain and was sure he must know that she couldn't honour hers either. He would never give up the location of someone as senior as Goran Kell to the Faith. Evidently neither of them intended to let the other leave this tavern alive. She searched Crowe's face, looking for any sign as to which side he was on. She didn't see anything.
Gabriella smiled. 'All right.'
Feyn led her to a low couch by the window. 'I'm just going to talk, all right. Listen to my voice and only my voice.'
Gabriella soon found herself falling into the snow-laden morning of the wedding and suddenly she was running again. Faces rushed past her and disappeared into the darkness as she pursued the fleeing assassin.
Somewhere in the distance a voice was whispering.
Suddenly she awoke and found her finger stained with charcoal and a detailed sketch beneath her right hand.
'Well, well,' Feyn was saying. 'Joachim Foll.'
'Who is this Joachim Foll?'
'A mercenary. He used to be one of Mandrian's lieutenants in the Hands.'
'Mandrian's Hands…' Gabriella said to herself. 'I've heard of them. They fought at Freiport in the war, for the Faith and Vos.'
'This has all been a scam, hasn't it?' Feyn's voice rose to a shout as he sensed a conspiracy closing on him. 'A con to get this Faith bitch in here where she can kill me!'
The man behind the bar, Erno, suddenly lifted a heavy crossbow and trained it on Gabriella. She wasn't stupid enough to try to run away, but instead grabbed Feyn and pulled him in front of her just as the barman loosed the bolt. It took Feyn in the gut. Crowe grabbed the weapon from the barman's hands and shoved the stock into his face. Feyn lay on the floor, screaming like a stuck pig.
Gabriella knelt beside Feyn. 'Tell me where I can find Goran Kell and I'll stop the pain.'
'Freedom,' he gasped. 'He's gone to Freedom.'
'At the Glass Mountain?' Gabriella taunted him and was rewarded with a look of utter horror. 'We already know about it. And now I know you're not going to be able to warn him, even if any of your spies find out before we get there.' She derived satisfaction from his appalled expression. In fact, she got more satisfaction from that than from the way the light went out of his eyes when she broke his neck a second later.
'Come on,' Crowe grabbed Gabriella's hand and shoved her out of the tavern. They bolted onto the streets of Turnitia and made a series of quick turns at the first couple of junctions they came to. Racing onto a wide thoroughfare, they bowled over a young man in a grey woollen cloak and then came to a dead stop in front of a platoon of Imperial Vos guards.
Their Captain stepped forward. 'You seem to be in a hurry. Perhaps you'd care to explain the great rush at the Citadel?'
Rolling her eyes slightly, Gabriella thrust a scroll into his hand, along with an amulet. 'Five ducks migrate in winter,' she said.
The guard Captain blanched at the words and quickly looked over the scroll and amulet, before handing them back.
'A thousand apologies, Enlightened Sister… I had no idea.'
'Obviously. I don't suppose you could give us an escort out of the city?'
The Captain smiled ingratiatingly. 'Of course, Enlightened Sister.' He snapped his fingers and his men put away their weapons.
As they began to move at a more relaxed pace, Gabriella took the opportunity to catch up with developments regarding the Brotherhood in Turnitia.
'How are arrests going? Brotherhood and morality crimes in particular?'
'I'm proud to say that the rate of morality crime has been dropping by the week,' the Captain said primly. 'Every other vice den and Brotherhood safe house has been empty for weeks, some even for months. Of course the thieves guilds still provide problems.'
'Thank you, Captain,' Gabriella said thoughtfully. She could feel an idea forming at the back of her mind, or at least a fragment of an idea. She didn't like it much at all.
'I don't see why you had to kill him.' Crowe said, as they rode together on the road south. 'With Feyn dead, you've lost me a valuable employer.'
'Sandor Feyn was on a list of proscribed men. It's the duty of all members of the Order of the Swords of Dawn to eliminate such dangerous men, regardless of any other considerations, if they are found.'
'I hope it's a short list.'
'There are thirteen names currently on it.'
'And you just happen to have memorized them? Or just Feyn's?' He rolled his eyes. 'Or are you just making this up?'
'It's part of the vows a Knight of the Swords takes when he or she is formally invested.'
Crowe gritted his teeth and refused to speak for quite a while. 'Well, it's done now. Feyn did his thing and you did yours.' He continued reluctantly. 'What was it like? Being helped to remember?'
'It was strange,' Gabriella said. 'When Feyn was talking I saw things. Memories, but… clearer. And some of them were places I'd never been, things I've never seen or done. Does it mean that Feyn was in my head?' Gabriella shuddered.
Crowe almost laughed at the thought. Feyn didn't have a magical bone in his body; just a talent for mild hypnosis.
He thought of telling Gabriella this, but knew in his heart that she wouldn't believe him. Truth to tell, he was as preoccupied about the goblin's mention of a Glass Mountain as she was. More so, really. He tried to tell himself that the gobbo was lying or delirious and that no such thing existed, but he couldn't stop himself feeling afraid.
'Something bothering you?' Gabriella asked.
'Old debts.' He said quietly. 'Just old debts.'
'Debts from the 'Glass Mountain'?'
It was the last question Crowe expected her to ask. 'No!'
'Lie to me again and I'll cut your tongue out!'
'I'm a thief, a liar, a murderer, and a lot of other nasty things, Dez. Get used to it.'
'Then tell me what you know about the Glass Mountain.'
