Darkness swallowed them as Aven followed Bill into the trees. He crashed through the brush, slowing with each tree he had to avoid. When Aven caught up with him he heard a commotion behind him and reached for a throwing knife in his belt. When he turned to throw it, he saw Yazwa chasing after them, white dress and glowing gold eyes easy to see in the shadows of the trees. “Wait!” she called, gasping for breath.
“Why are you following us?” asked Bill, tapping Avens shoulder.
“Because we ran,” she gasped, resting her hands on her knees. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Bill said, squinting to look behind her. “They’re after us, not you. Run while you have a chance.”
“No,” she wheezed, standing upright. “You need me. I can see them.”
Bill paused, looking her up and down. “You can?”
She tapped the side of her head near her eyes. “They look different. Stand out. I’ll see them coming miles away.”
“Are there more?” Bill asked.
Yazwa turned around to look behind her. “Oh shit. Two of those raptors are coming this way. There’s something small up in the air too.”
“Let’s go!” said Bill. The three of them plunged deeper into the woods, skirting around little hills and running through streams until their pursuers vanished from Yazwas sight. When they found a hole ripped up by the roots of a falling tree, they collapsed into it, chests heaving and muscles burning. Bill spoke up once they caught their breath and made themselves comfortable in the dirt. “See anything else?”
Yazwa pulled herself up and peeked over the rim of the hole. She scanned the woods and looked up to the sky. “Nothing, they’re gone.”
“Thank you,” Aven said, leaning against the ground. “For that, and for saving my ass at the inn.”
“Well, uh. I mean, you were in trouble, so…” she trailed off, looking down at the lockbox and the teeth marks gouged into it. “They were after that, not you. What’s in it?”
“A very valuable tapestry,” Bill said, setting the lockbox aside. “A more important question, why would you help us? Are you after it?”
“No, I need your help,” she said, locking her glowing eyes on Aven. “You know the Purification Arts.”
“I already told you, I don’t know anything about them,” Aven said, holding up his hands.
“I can see,” she said, pointing at Avens left hand. “Your body has an aura, but the two fingers on your left hand don’t. That’s a sign that you’ve dipped your hand into the Cold Waters.”
Aven rubbed his fingers with a grimace. “You saw that in your room at the Magistrate’s party, didn’t you?”
Yazwa nodded. “I did, so stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Aven looked over his shoulder at Bill, who nodded. “What do you need the Purification Arts for?”
She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “It happened last year. I was coming home from temple when I saw my neighbor’s house on fire. He was still inside. I ran in, the smoke was so thick I couldn’t see anything. I could hardly breathe,” she said, clenching her fists and shaking off the memory. “He was on the floor of his study, passed out. I picked him up, but the roof fell in. Couldn’t get out. And then…” she said, tapping her heart with two fingers. “I felt something cold hit me in the chest, hard. Then the fire went out.”
“What?” Aven said, while Bill stayed silent, watching her carefully.
“Gone. The whole house snuffed out like a candle. Without the fire I got him out onto the street and he woke up. Everyone said I was a hero,” she said with a bitter smile. “When I got home, the lamps all went out, so did the candles, even the fire in the hearth snuffed out like nothing. The priests say that a passing spirit saw me and blessed me so no fires could burn around me. Ever.”
“I see,” Bill said, stroking his beard. “But why would you want such a blessing removed? It sounds like a useful thing to have in case the house goes up again. We’re not in the frozen north either, so you aren’t going to freeze to death.”
“I’m a blacksmith,” said Yazwa.
“Ahhhh,” said Bill. “I can see how that would be a problem.”
“My whole family are swordsmiths. We run one of the finest forges in all of Ibscaal, but even the hottest fire goes cold if I get anywhere near it,” Yazwa said, voice heavy.
“You’re a blacksmith? I thought you were an Achali,” said Aven.
“No, I,” she said, clearing her throat. “There’s a test you have to pass to learn Achal. I failed,” she said, shaking her head again. “But that doesn’t matter. None of the priests could remove this curse. They said I’d have to live with it. I spent the last six years learning all my family's trade secrets. I’m not having my life stolen from me.”
Bill reached out and grabbed Aven’s shoulder. “We’ll play the Favor Game. Aven will do what he can about your curse, but first we need something from you.”
Yazwa blinked. “What?”
“You already know that we broke into the Magistrate’s Mansion. But what you might not know is that we didn’t get what we were looking for. Help us steal it, and your curse is gone.”
Yazwa sputtered. “What? I…I can’t do that, I’m a guest in his house!”
“Which is why you’re the best person to help us out,” Bill smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to do anything hard. Easy as falling down.”
“Hold on,” Yazwa said, sitting up right. “I already did you a favor! I bailed you out of the fight and got you to safety!”
“Yes, and that was very heroic. But you did that of your own accord, not as part of the Favor Game,” Bill nodded.
“He’s right,” Aven said. “Before you do things like that you should set terms.”
Yazwa’s jaw dropped. “I don’t believe this. You’d be dead if I didn’t step in.”
“You had a very strong bargaining position. Pity you wasted it,” said Bill.
“How about this?” she asked, grinding her teeth. “If you don’t help me, I go to the Magistrate and tell him who it really was who broke into his mansion!”
“Oooooh,” Aven winced. “Rookie mistake.”
“I know,” Bill groaned, rubbing his temples. “It’s almost painful to watch.”
“I’m serious!” Yazwa snapped. “If you don’t help me, I’m turning you in.”
“Yazwa, that doesn’t work for two reasons,” Aven said, holding up two fingers. “One, you’re going to look really, really suspicious telling him that a few days after the event, not right away. Two, if you do that, you don’t get what you want.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“It would be really hard for Aven to break your curse from a prison cell,” Bill nodded.
Yazwa slumped back against the side of the hole. “I save your lives and this is how you treat me.”
Bill pointed at himself. “I’m a pirate. We’re not known for being sentimental. Will you take the deal?”
She was silent, the gentle sounds of the night slowly echoing over them. “I won’t hurt anybody.”
“Heaven forbid,” Bill said, shaking his head. “All we’ll need from you is some information, that’s all. Are we in agreement?”
Yazwa sighed and traced a circle around her forehead with her ring finger. “Chuxa preserve me, we are.”
-
The walk back to the village didn’t take long once they got back on the road. The atmosphere was electric, every person they met was talking about the excitement of last night. Men from the watch patrolled the streets in two and threes, casting suspicious eyes all around. From the little bits of gossip they caught the story had grown exponentially. A whole army of summons had duked it out in the inns courtyard. The Watch arrived just in time to prevent the guests from being eaten. Everyone at the inn was dead. When they reached the edge of town Yazwa broke away to fetch her things and wait at the inn. When Aven and Bill got into town it didn’t take long for a watch company to recognize them and hustle them to meet the village councilman, a harried looking man with thinning hair and a growing stomach. “We had almost lost hope, thank the heavens,” he said, casting his eyes up.
“My acolyte and I did not feel safe coming back until it was light,” Bill said, gesturing to Aven who held the lockbox under his arm. “We barely escaped with our lives.”
The councilman’s eyes lit up. “They were after you! Why, what happened?”
“We were sleeping up on the roof. Please understand, we live a simple, roaming life and we are unused to sleeping in close quarters,” said Bill, clasping his hands together. When no one commented, he continued. “A terrible sound woke us and we saw a barbed summon sneaking up over the roof. We did battle with it and managed to slay it, praise the Eternal Waters, but then more came, all after this lockbox.”
The Councilman exchanged a look with one of the watchmen. “Yes, the eyewitnesses reported that you had one. What’s in it?”
Bill took the box from Aven and slipped in the key. “That’s the curious thing,” he said, popping it open. Inside were a bunch of dry sticks tied together with twine. “Nothing but twigs and string.”
“All that for this?” the councilman said, reaching in and pulling out one of the bundles. “What do you have sticks locked in a strongbox?”
“They’re not mine. A friend in Chanan Harbor hasn’t been able to come out and retrieve his strongbox, so he asked me to do it for him. I only withdrew it yesterday. My acolyte has seen something like them before,” said Bill.
Aven cleared his throat. He had just made the bundles the night before, out of the oldest, driest sticks he could find. “I have traveled in the western sea and those look like maps made by the Vathlanri. They don’t use paper charts, but maps made of thread, sticks and shells.”
“Are you saying,” the councilman said, returning the bundle to the box. “That these could be secret maps?”
“It would explain why someone would be willing to kill for them,” Bill said gravely.
“Indeed,” the councilman nodded. “I deeply regret this, but I must confiscate these as evidence.”
“Oh no,” Bill said, putting his hand over his heart. “They’re not even mine, I’m retrieving them for a friend.”
“I understand your reluctance and respect your desire to keep your word to your friend,” the councilman said, holding out his hand. “But this is a very serious matter. I must seize them and you must tell me the name of your friend so we can solve this mystery.”
“I understand,” Bill said solemnly. “May I ask to keep the box? They are expensive and I don’t want to incur another hardship.” The councilman quickly agreed and had the bundles brought into the vault. After he took down Chesai’s name and information he bade them goodbye. “That gets the locals off our back,” Bill said as they walked out of town hall with the empty lockbox.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” asked Aven, handing him the empty box.
“I’m never sure of anything. But if our friend was willing to go to all that trouble,” he said, glancing around the street. “I doubt he’s given up and gone home. I’m going to gamble that he’d be willing to approach me if I’m alone. Go wait at the inn with Yazwa, I’ll come get you when I’m done.”
Good luck,” said Aven, walking away.
Bill watched him go until he disappeared around a corner. Not lingering for long, he made his way to the shore, politely dodging every curious question thrown his way. Once he reached the cliffs at the shore he sat down, setting the box beside him. To any onlooker, it appeared to be an Ezu meditating to the sound of waves on the rocks. But when Bill felt a shiver run up his spine, he knew he had someone’s attention. Still he waited, sitting still as stone as people walked past on their way to and from the harbor. As the morning sun climbed higher in the sky one man stopped, staring at him from the path. “Good morning!” Bill called out.
The man strode forward, dressed as a servant. “Good day, Ezu.”
Bill fought to keep his face relaxed and cheerful as he met his bright blue eyes. The man was dressed as a servant, but his skin was free of blemishes and pockmarks and his eyebrows were plucked into a narrow line. He had sharp cheekbones and long, black hair tied in a high ponytail that ran down his back. His accent was crisp, too formal even for a servant. “What brings you out here?” Bill asked.
The man glanced over his shoulder. “I was hoping to speak with you. I heard that an Ezu was attacked last night at the inn and was missing. What happened?” he asked, eyes lingering on the strongbox.
“I imagine there have been a lot of rumors swirling around,” Bill grinned, stroking his beard. “They’re probably more exciting than the truth. My acolyte and I were attacked in the middle of the night by summons. We only escaped by fleeing into the woods.”
“How awful,” the man said, holding his hands up to his mouth in an imitation of shock. His manicured nails made Bill even more sure he was no servant. “Summons running wild here, in Thetri? It’s like the whole world has gone mad. Why would they attack you?”
“I think they were after this,” Bill said, patting the lockbox and watching a bead of sweat run down the man’s temple. “I was picking this up as a favor for a friend. The strangest thing, I can’t imagine why someone would go to all that trouble for bundles of twigs.”
“What?” the man snapped.
A smirk forced its way onto Bill's face. “Nothing but string and sticks inside. I turned them over to the councilman for evidence,” Bill said, cracking open the box to show there was nothing in it. “He was kind enough to let me keep this though.”
A stampede of emotions rushed across the man's face until it settled on an ugly look. “What did you do?” he hissed.
Bill nudged the box shut and locked it again. “Are we done pretending now?”
“What. Did you. Do. With. The Tapestry?” the man snarled, taking a step with each word until he was looming over Bill.
“Good,” Bill said, leaning back to look up at him. “You knew what was in it. I was worried you saw a shiny box and wanted it.”
“That tapestry is worth more than you can imagine,” the man said, an angry flush rising up his neck. “Tell me what you did with it. Now.”
“I can tell you’re used to getting your way,” Bill sighed, still seated. “Could you tell me why I should tell you?”
“Because I know who you are, Headless Bill,” the man snapped. “I could have your ship impounded and you and your crew chucked in prison by nightfall and have you all executed at dawn.”
Bill squinted up at the man, several of his theories on the man’s identity rendered moot. He wasn’t a criminal, a spy from another state or a disgruntled ex-soldier. “You know my name, but I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”
“Stop screwing around!” the man shouted, flinching when he realized the volume.
“You first,” Bill said cheerfully. “Since you aren’t here with a company of guardsmen to have me arrested, that tells me that you can’t make that play. Especially since you tried so very hard to take it from me without showing your face. So, let’s get back to the basics. I have something you want, what are you willing to give me for it?”
The man was quiet for a moment, silence filled by the sound of surf breaking on the rocks below. “What do you want?”
“What are you offering?” asked Bill.
“300 gold gatl,” the man said.
Bill managed to keep the surprise off his face. If he was leading with that it meant he was truly wealthy. Or just trying to say a big number that he had no intention of paying. “I like to travel light, that much gold would weigh me down. Favors, on the other hand, wouldn’t.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Favors can cost more than gold.”
“And they are much more valuable too,” Bill said, rising to his feet. “Let me go back to my ship and take stock, find out what it is I need. Then we can talk.”
“You’re not leaving here until I have the tapestry,” the man said.
“And the second I give it to you you’re going to make good on your threat,” Bill said, stepping around him. “You don’t get it until I’m sure that won’t happen.”
The man grabbed his arm in a surprisingly tight grip. “I need it by the end of the week.”
“There’s a deadline. No wonder he’s desperate,” Bill thought, gently prying the man’s fingers off his bicep. “You know where to find me. In two days send someone with a complementary batch of coffee to my ship. People love giving gifts to Ezu. By then I’ll know how to do this.”
The man took a step back, locking eyes with Bill. “Don’t you dare try to leave. I’ll have you hunted down and killed, Ezu or not.”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Bill said, taking his leave. More questions than answers. The man claimed to have power, but he couldn’t use it openly. Curiouser and curiouser.