“Yes?” Dannyl prompted.
The Sachakan shook his head. “There is another group known for abducting people, but they have nothing to gain from taking him and he is not their usual sort of target. No. We will go to Ashaki Tikako’s house. If we are in luck your assistant will be found there and be returned to the Guild House before the day is done.” He paused. “Though you may want to get rid of the slave’s body before then.”
Dannyl nodded in agreement. “Not exactly a pleasant welcome home gift. If you are done examining her, I’ll get the slaves to do with her whatever they do with their dead.”
Since they did not need the new hideout as a trap for the Thief Hunter, Cery had ordered the place to be sealed up. He and Gol had moved back to his storeroom apartment next to the old city wall.
Cery hadn’t said anything to Gol about his conversation with Sonea until the morning. Her response to his news had been so different to what he’d been expecting that he’d needed time to think, to reconsider his plans, and to wonder if he’d regret what he’d agreed to.
“Why isn’t she going after the rogue herself?” Gol asked again.
Cery sighed and lifted his shoulders. “She said she wasn’t free to go running around the city these days. She can go to the hospice, but not anywhere else without asking first.”
Gol scowled. “Ungrateful sods. After all she did to save the city.”
“So we’re going to work with the Guild?”
“We have to.” Cery grimaced. “Nobody but us can recognise the rogue. And maybe we can help stop them making a complete mess of things.”
Gol’s expression told Cery how little he believed that. “What about Skellin? You going to tell him?”
“We still don’t have proof the woman is the Thief Hunter, only that she uses magic.”
“Which is why you’re calling her ‘the rogue’ now,” Gol observed.
“Yes. Until we know for sure she is the Thief Hunter.”
Gol crossed his arms. “You’re afraid you’ll make a fool of yourself.”
Cery looked at his friend reproachfully. “I don’t want to waste Skellin’s time. Or owe him any favours when I don’t have to.”
“But you said he wasn’t what you thought he’d be.”
“No.” Cery grimaced. “But he’s still a Thief and a rot importer. Better men than me and you have done bad things for reasons they believed were good.”
“They’re the dangerous ones,” Gol agreed. “Use family or the pride of a House or protecting the country and anything is excusable.”
Cery nodded. “I’d rather be honest with myself when it comes to business. I wanted to be better off than most dwells. Don’t want to die a beggar. I’m not pretending I got higher purposes than that.”
“So you need money. And to get money you need to be powerful. And unless you’re from the Houses, there’s no way you’re growing powerful by any honest trade.”
“It’s all about surviving. Which is what I think Skellin is doing. He said he tried importing rot as a way to establish himself as a Thief.”
“It worked.”
Cery sighed. “It did. And his conscience isn’t so bothered that he’s got himself out of the trade.”
“He said he would, though.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Rot’s made him one of the most powerful men in the city. He’s got most of the Thieves working for him or owing him favours. I don’t think he’d give that up too quick.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to risk getting caught up in that if I don’t have to.”
Gol snorted. “You’re too smart to let him talk you into anything, Cery.”
Cery looked at his friend and bodyguard. “You think I should tell him?”
The big man pursed his lips. “If somethin’s telling you not to, then don’t. But if we have trouble finding the Rogue I reckon it’d be interesting to see what Skellin’s capable of.” He shrugged. “Maybe not much. Or maybe he’d reveal how powerful he really is.”
Chapter 17
Hunted
Despite spending several hours in the room, Lorkin’s eyes still smarted. The air was thick with the smell of the urine stored in open vats to one side. Tyvara had told him to breathe shallowly to avoid burning his lungs, and to keep his eyes closed. She had also told him, before she slipped away again, that only slaves would enter the room, and to stay quiet.
Time passes very slowly when your every breath sets your throat burning with sour fumes. It also made fleeing into the night far less of an exciting adventure than it had first promised.
Was he a fool to believe Tyvara? The only evidence he had that she was telling the truth was the reaction of the slave woman she’d killed.
From that he knew three things: the slave had recognised Tyvara, believed he should be killed, and thought Tyvara a traitor. What had Tyvara said in reply?
From that he could assume Tyvara had known of the woman’s intent and given the slave a chance to abandon her mission.
One thing was clear. If Tyvara had wanted to kill him, she would have. After all, she knew black magic. She could easily be many times stronger than him, magically.
But what he wasn’t sure about was whether it was necessary for him to flee with her. Surely once Dannyl learned what had happened he’d have arranged better protection for them.
As for who wanted him dead, his best guess was the families of the Sachakans his parents had killed during the Ichani Invasion. His mother must be right. Their families must still feel obliged to seek revenge for their relations, despite the fact those relations had been outcasts.
He thought of the ring in his pocket.