Lusin hung high in the sky above Tamirra and the street Thoma walked, casting cool purple light on the city below. Most folk had laid down for the night and the homes he passed were dark and silent, though his work was only beginning.
Vaik ordered him to contact any fellow Siblings in the area in the hope one of them might have word on this elusive relic that slipped through their fingers. Thoma did not wish to see again the rage that consumed Vaik after the night at the tomb.
He glanced over his shoulder, spotting the tall and lithe shadow slipping from building to building behind him. Noz could sneak like a mouse when he wanted to, despite his size. He was an unnerving man, even more so because he never said more than a few words to anyone other than Vaik or Lyra. Still, there was nobody better to be watching his back, not that Thoma felt it was needed.
In fact, if the Embers were watching, Noz would stay in the shadows. Some of the those at this meeting were his friends, or had been once upon a time. They were all Siblings, but that mattered little to Vaik, and therefore Noz. They would do anything to retrieve the Emberstone, and Thoma would too, but he had reservations—things he would like to avoid, and they did not.
He rounded a corner on the wide and moonlit road of tight cobbles. The southwest of the city was crowded with workshops and businesses. A quiet place at night, except for the occasional vagabond, but there were not many of those in Tamirra.
The warehouse he was told to look for sat hunched in the darkness ahead. A lantern hung beside the big swinging doors, an orange ribbon twirling from the bottom. That was one of the many signals Siblings used to alert family members. The signals had to be changed sometimes, whenever the Thava caught a Dawnbreaker, as the Thava called Siblings.
Thoma retrieved the black mask of a raven from where it was tucked under his arm and slipped it over his face. Flipping up the hood of his cloak, he angled toward the warehouse doors. He doubted there would be much to discover here, and may the Embers protect those inside if he did, especially with the anger that Vaik displayed at this relic which seemed to slip out of their grasp at every opportunity. Thoma found Vaik’s story of what happened at the tomb hard to believe. All of this because Noz couldn’t handle some children from the slums?
Thoma might not have believed it if he hadn’t been there that morning at the Eudan bridge, and saw with his own eyes how lucky those young rogues could be. When the watchmen stopped the Lowtown mudrats, Vaik ordered Thoma and the others to attack. If the watch captured the Emberstone, retrieving it would have been difficult if not impossible. Piri almost skewered one of the rogues with a knife, Lyra an arrow, and Ailish came close to running them down, but they were forced to flee when the Khossoroi came.
At first, Vaik assumed they returned to Lowtown, but after weighting a few hands with coin it was determined they went south. Thoma knew just how tight lipped those Lowtowners could be after venturing in there himself at Vaik’s behest and narrowly escaping with the clothes on his back for the effort. They searched high and low south of Eudan afterward, under every stone and in every copse of trees, but still came up empty. Noz gleaned enough information from the towns and villages they passed to discern the mudrats continued south, and in the company of two Sifters no less.
Thoma wasn’t sure who the Sifters were, or if they even realized they had the stone, but then they found the village where the two men were ambushed. The whole town had been talking about it, along with rumors that an Arbiter was somehow involved. Thoma sneered. The last thing they needed was for the Thava to get their hands on this Emberstone, though he would relish the opportunity to send a few Thavan spirits to their Shrove if it came to that.
They followed the trail of the Thava and these Sifters to Tamirra, the southern-most city in all of Eudan. There wasn’t much chance the Sifters would take them into Uruca, unless they had a death-wish, since it was known at least one of them was Eudan. Either way, Vaik claimed he knew they were here. A few bribes at the gatehouse was enough to get eyes on who came and went, though those guards looked to be half asleep whenever Thoma saw them.
Clearing his mind from thoughts of how he came to be here, Thoma stopped at the warehouse doors and knocked.
“Who is it?” came a low whisper from inside.
“Brand. I wish to find the way,” he said.
“The way?” a man asked.
“Across oceans and through storms. I wish to find the way to Eldimirian.”
A grating noise sounded on the other side, as if a bar were being lifted. One of the large doors swung outward a fraction and a man wearing a bull mask edged into the moonlight.
“Welcome, I’m Stable,” the man said. Waving Thoma in, he retreated into the dark interior.
Thoma followed, pulling the door closed behind him. Inside, a few lamps lit the building with a warm, flickering glow. The shadowy shapes of crates draped in tarps were stacked high against the walls, but left enough space for several people to be standing in pools of lantern light. A man in a cougar mask grunted a greeting with a nod and a woman in a bear mask beside him bowed her head.
“Welcome,” they said one after the other.
Thoma had been to many pleadings, especially after meeting Vaik, but he felt more at home here than in any palace storeroom or manor garden. The nobility often had no idea just how much risk commoners took to hold a pleading, though there could be a few well-off Siblings in this room too.
Stable’s voice brought Thoma from his thoughts. “Brand, do you have anything for the pleading?”
Thoma nodded. “Of course.” It wouldn’t do to attend a pleading without an offering to the Emberfolk. That would be in bad taste, and surely looked down upon by all that were here. However, what one brought mattered too. He pulled the heavy chair figurine from his pocket. It glittered with diamonds, silver and gold in the light as he handed it over.
Stable’s eyes widened behind his mask. “Its beautiful,” he said, rotating the throne in his hands. “Quite the item to bring to a pleading, Brand. The Embers will be pleased.”
“Consider it a gesture of my goodwill,” Thoma said, relishing the awe in the man’s voice. He often wondered what an Emberfolk king or queen may have been like when he looked at the throne, surely that must be what it represented. Most Siblings wouldn’t bring something so rare or valuable to a pleading, but he had nothing to fear, especially with Noz lurking outside. If the other Siblings were impressed by it, they might trust him more easily.
“Exquisite,” rumbled a broad shouldered man in a green cloak and wolf mask. Thoma knew from the voice, if not the muscular build, it was Aramis. A blacksmith and leader of a thief network here in Tamirra. The mask did as much to disguise his distinctive form as it would have on a pig. It was far from the first time they’d met, though Thoma was unsure if the smith recognized him in return. Beside Aramis, the short stocky woman in the bear mask nodded in appreciation of the throne.
“It will do nicely,” Stable said and placed it near a lantern on the ground. After a long look at the doors, he motioned at the others. “It is time, anyone not in this room must not be coming.”
One by one they came forward to place their own objects around the lantern in a circle. Thoma watched each with a careful eye. The woman in the bear mask placed an owl statue, made of bronze and a pace tall. A beautiful thing, and in wonderful condition. Thoma had seen those before, and though they were often broken or worn smooth by time, this one must have been as detailed as the day it was made. Another man dropped a bronze coin beside the owl figurine, the outer edge of which was stamped with odd angular symbols Thoma recognized. His breath caught, but he dampened his expectations. Those coins could be more common than he realized.
Thoma recalled some of the items such as the throne they found in the bags those Lowtown rogues left behind. If only there had been time to search the place. The treasures that may have been uncovered in a tomb of that size could have been the discovery of a lifetime. Thoma had visited many such burials in his travels with Vaik, but none rivaled the size or grandeur of the one in the swamp.
He analyzed the other items the Siblings placed around the lantern, but nothing even closely resembled the Emberstone, nor was it all that interesting otherwise. Vaik must know, as he did, that even if a Sibling had somehow come across the Emberstone, there was little chance they would bring it to a pleading. Yet still, Vaik demanded he attend to sift for what information he could.
When the items were gathered, Stable produced a small brazier he placed beside the lantern. He carefully removed a vial from his shirt pocket and rotated, displaying it to those gathered. “Blood of an Esh. The blood of beasts which drove our ancestors from this land…may it burn.” He pulled the cork stopper from the vial, handling it as if spilling one drop could mean death, and it very well could. There were stories of people who became Esh after coming into contact with the blood days after it had been spilled, though most of the Esh blood Siblings used in rituals was harmless and came from some animal or another. Esh were certainly not as common as they once were, after all, and even many Siblings considered them little more than tales.
Stable tipped the vial of blood into the brazier. Next, he removed another vial, a vial of oil, Thoma knew. Stable emptied that vial into the brazier as well, then lit the mixture with the aid of the lantern. A flame rose, sputtering and flaring, but finally coalesced into a strong blaze that produced a streamer of dark smoke.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Stable knelt and those gathered joined him. Thoma bent his knee and directed his gaze to the ground.
“Emberfolk,” Stable began. “Can you hear us?”
“We plead for your recognition,” the people gathered around the lantern repeated in unison.
“Emberfolk,” Stable said. “Where have you gone?”
“Show us the way to Eldimirian.”
“Emberfolk,” Stable’s voice trembled. “We are your children, the siblings of Ember.”
“Speak to us.”
They waited for a reply, as they always did, but none came. A rooster crowing would have meant good fortune, while a dog barking would have been an ill omen. A flying insect would have meant to show caution, while a bird or bat would mean to be suspicious of those around you. The omens of a pleading were always up to interpretation, of course. Silence meant that the Emberfolk saw no need to reply, and in his circumstance, Thoma considered this an unfavorable outcome. He rose, as did the others.
“As is custom,” Stable said, “we will reconvene at dawn for those of you who wish to stay.”
The siblings mingled with each other, soft conversation filling the dark interior of the warehouse.
A woman in a pig mask approached Thoma. Her thin, swan-like neck dipped into a modest green dress that exposed a considerable amount of bosom. “Brand?” She stopped before him and offered a hand sprouting from the lace at the cuff of her dress. “Rivulet.” Thoma bent and kissed her hand. Obviously a high born lady to expect such treatment, and perhaps a newborn Sibling, not accustomed to covering all aspects of her identity while attending a pleading.
Rivulet waited until Thoma straightened to begin speaking. “That throne you brought is exquisite! Where did you acquire it? If you don’t mind me asking…”
Though her smoky voice tickled at his memory, he could not place a face to her. Perhaps not a newborn then. “I purchased it from a friend not long ago.”
The woman laughed. “Do they have any more? I’d love to have one…cost is not an issue.”
“Perhaps. There was a tomb found in the swamp east of the capital, apparently he acquired it from there.”
The woman’s dark brown eyes like fresh earth widened in the sockets of her mask. “So the rumors are true. What I wouldn’t give to see that!”
Thoma murmured his agreement, and not for the sake of conversation. Even worse, I was standing outside the door and still didn’t get to see what was inside. Even Vaik appeared torn at leaving the tomb behind, but with so many Thava camped nearby, it would have surely meant disaster to stay. “Have you heard anything about artifacts from that tomb? I’d like to track down a few more if I can.”
The woman’s mask swayed. “I’m afraid not, if I had, I would have procured one or two for myself. Due to my…circumstances, I’m not able to attend Pleadings as often as I’d like.” The woman’s head tipped to the side, studying him acutely. “However, I do know a woman, someone in town I consider an expert on such things. She is quite secretive of course, even more so than I, but…if I determine you are to be trusted, I may put you in contact with her.”
Though Thoma doubted he would have the time to arrange a meeting with this mystery woman, he indicated he was interested, and after a bit more fruitless conversation, the woman in the pig mask left to engage a man in a frog mask. While Thoma scanned the room for another target, the stout woman in the bear mask crossed the room toward him.
She extended her hand and Thoma took it. With a start, he spotted the remnants of a faded tattoo on her palm. A curled snake…one of the many images Sefka used. He thought it unlikely there were two women with such a tattoo in the same place. The short woman seemed unaware of his shock.
“Where did you get that throne?” she asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
Her voice too was familiar, so much so, Thoma was certain whose face was behind the mask. “A friend. A quiet fellow who lives in the woods and rarely comes to town. He is not only a Dawnbreaker, but Sefkha as well. I do not believe in such things, do you? Do you know anyone who worships Marath,” he dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned close, “Lynn?”
The woman’s eyes went wide, then narrowed as if he had cursed her name. “Thoma?” she asked, a little too loudly for his taste.
“I never thought I’d see you again, much less here,” he said.
Lynn scoffed. “Don’t you know who my uncle is?”
Now that she mentioned it, Thoma did remember. He chose his words carefully. “I’m here with friends, some of them you might know.”
“Vaik?” Lynn asked, a hopeful glint in her dark eyes. “We must meet as soon as possible. There are events here in the city he will want to know of. I assume there is only one reason he is here.”
“I can bring you to him, if you’d like.” Vaik would no doubt be pleased to be reunited with Lynn, given her connections, which would be helpful in the search for this relic. Thoma did not relish the idea of another competitor for Vaik’s attention, but if the man ever learned Thoma had met Lynn and not told him, there would be dire consequences. Noz might likely know her as well, and if she took that mask off with him waiting outside, there were no assurances the big, silent man might not tell Vaik himself.
Aramis came to stand at Lynn’s shoulder and inclined his head at Thoma. “What are you two whispering about over here?”
Lynn giggled and adjusted her mask to look up at the tall man. “This is an old friend.”
Aramis studied Thoma from beneath the wolf mask. “An old friend?”
“Yes, from many years ago. In fact, he’s brought me some good news.”
“What’s that?”
“Another old friend of mine is in town. I’ve told you about him many times. I’ll be seeing him soon…tonight, in fact.”
Tonight? I never said anything about tonight. Thoma grimaced. Lynn would never change.
“I suppose you don’t want me along on your meeting?” Aramis said with a grunt.
“Not now, dear…maybe next time,” Lynn said, then spoke to Thoma. “When can we leave?”
Aramis and Lynn? The two seemed an unlikely pair, like a bird and a snake becoming betrothed. He stared at Lynn for a moment, wondering if he should offer an excuse but decided against it. If there was anything to be gained from reuniting Vaik and Lynn, Thoma wanted to bring her to him. “As soon as you are ready.” There wasn’t much point hanging around this dusty old barn, after all. Only a fool looking for a knife in the back would bring an Emberstone to a pleading or talk about it around Siblings they were not familiar with.
“Very well,” Lynn said. She turned back to the smith. “I won’t be long.”
Aramis only nodded, but his eyes narrowed at Thoma.
A loud knock at the door brought them all to attention. The warehouse dropped into pure silence.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else,” Stable whispered and turned toward the double doors with fearful eyes. He made a hushing motion with his hands and crept toward the entrance. Thoma gripped the dagger at his belt. If it were the Thava, or the watch…or both, he might have to fight his way out of here. Still, he felt safer knowing that Noz was outside. Noz wouldn’t let the Thava take him, would he? No, he was too valuable to be captured.
Stable came to the doors and leaned close, whispering at them. “Do you know the way?”
The reply came, murmured on the other side just as Thoma had done. The Thava might know the phrase too, though. That was also something they were forced to change from time to time. Stable cracked the door. The tension left the man’s shoulders as if relieved and he moved aside. A cloaked man entered as if the Thava were on his heels.
The man wore a rich blue cloak, embroidered at the edges in silver thread, and the cowl was pulled down to cover half of his face in the absence of a mask. Not the attire of a commoner. Perhaps a noble or merchant, Thoma figured.
The cloaked man struggled to control his breathing, as if he’d run to the warehouse. He leaned close to whisper at Stable, but Thoma was able to hear his words. “The Thava tried to stop me on the way here. I escaped, but they are likely looking still.”
A ripple of uneasy murmurs spread across the room as what the man said was relayed.
Stable slapped a hand over his mask to cover a groan and turned to those gathered. “Siblings…we must leave our Pleading unfinished and be gone from here immediately. Be careful as you leave.”
Lynn watched Stable with no visible distress, then turned to Thoma. “No time better than now.”
Aramis put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure that is wise? With Thava prowling out there?” The big smith nodded toward the cloaked man, though his gaze eventually settled disapprovingly on Thoma.
“I am not afraid of the Thava, dear. Do not worry about me. It is very important that I visit my friend.” She inclined her head to Thoma. “Shall we?”
Stable opened the door to let a Sibling in a frog mask slip out, then shut it in the face of a woman in a cat mask. “Not all at once. It might draw attention. Wait just a moment.”
Thoma returned her nod. If she was not afraid of the Thava, he would show no fear either, though her determination had peeked his curiosity. What was so urgent that she must tell Vaik? “Very well.”
They moved to grab their offerings from the circle around the brazier. Lynn engulfed the pace tall bronze owl beneath her cloak with some effort while Thoma tucked the throne into a pouch at his waist. He sent a questioning look at the owl beneath her cloak. “Are you sure that—”
“It will be fine,” Lynn shrugged. “No different than sneaking bottles of wine out of my uncle’s cellar when I was girl.”
They filed into the line of worried Siblings waiting at the doors, which continued to shorten as Stable released them, waiting for some time in-between. When Thoma and Lynn were next to go, Stable realized they were to leave together and cracked the door. Thoma flipped up his hood.
“Don’t let anything happen to her…” Aramis muttered at his back as the warehouse door creaked closed behind them. Thoma removed his mask and stalked off down the street toward the southern gate where the safe-house was. He looked over his shoulder to be sure Lynn was behind him.
She was busy removing her mask with one hand, the other holding the owl figurine inside her cloak. Her face was exactly as Thoma remembered it. With dark hair, dark eyes and a big nose, she was a distinctive figure, though nobody would say she was pretty, or even handsome. “It is a dangerous time to be in Tamirra, Thoma,” she said as the mask disappeared under her cloak with the owl.
“Why do you say that?”
“My uncle has plans…plans that could make yours and Vaik’s go awry…whatever you are up to here. So tell me, what it is? What has brought you here? I can’t imagine Vaik has given up his quest to find a land with no ash, but what does that have to do with Tamirra?”
Thoma shook his head. “If Vaik wants to tell you, he will.”
Her black eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, secretive…I almost forgot how secretive we were.”
He ignored her comments. If Vaik wanted to tell Lynn anything, that was for him to do. The streets were dark here, but Lusin still shone in the night sky, bathing the city below in purple light. Thoma kept an eye out for Noz as they went along but saw no sign of the monstrous man. He turned a corner—Lynn following him in silence.
“You there!” a shout broke in the night.
Thoma’s breath caught in his throat when he saw stripes of gold flashing in the dark just ahead.
A Thavan Keeper approached, kettle-helm shining in the light of the lamp he held. Another Keeper beside him stared at them with narrowed eyes.
“What are you doing out here at this hour?” the Keeper with the lamp asked.
The throne in the bag at his waist felt as heavy as a boulder. Thoma thought of dashing away into the night. If he could outrun Lynn he might have a chance to escape. She didn’t know anything of their plans, but she did know who he was, and that was enough to give him pause. “We are heading home for the night, Keeper.”
“Now?” the man said, seemingly suspicious. He frowned, blue eyes looking them up and down.
Lynn cleared her throat. “I am Lynn Raseil, of House Raseil. This man is my escort. My uncle, Lord Carbathe, did not want me walking alone this late at night.”
At the mention of Carbathe’s name the man’s eyes widened. “Oh! I heard you returned Lady Raseil, I apologize for not recognizing you. The escort is a prudent precaution. We’ve had reports of Cythraul in the area. Be careful on your way.”
Lynn gave a grateful nod of her head, shifting the owl figurine under her cloak. “Thank you for the warning, Keeper. We will head straight home.”
The Thavan nodded in return, and with his companion in tow, walked onwards into the night.
Lynn sighed as the Thavan’s footsteps faded. “Too close for me…” she muttered. “Now tell me what you are doing here.”
Thoma breathed a sigh of relief himself, but only gave a shake of his head for Lynn’s demand and continued to the hideout.