144: Wrath (18 page)

Brahnt stood and pantomimed opening a large portal before him. "If only that troublesome pintling would port himself off a cliff, perhaps we could get on with our living."

Karrah rose in a fury, and his chair clattered to the ground behind him. "Matthew the Blue is a better man than any of us! Are we so far removed from the world in our high towers that we have forgotten what it is to know awe and tremble? We are great crafter’s, men of tools and ingenuity, and because we use levers and weight and borrowed magic to make something grand, we think ourselves better than gods. We think ourselves lords over creation because we understand the
truth
of things."

The group was silent and Mohva eyed him warily.

"No, perhaps that’s not the right of it," Karrah said. "Perhaps we hide in our trees because we know that the greatest of our creations is but nothing to the passing of time. It is for fear that we do not dare to dream, lest our dreams become nightmares and we do not wake. I will stand by the council’s decision, but I am ashamed of what we have become and I am ashamed of myself."

CHAPTER THIRTY

The day was cool and breezy, Kiff’s favorite type of day. He sat alone behind a collection of large boulders about two kallows outside of Odes’Kan, waiting beside the road Polas and the others would travel. Lazy clouds drifted by; some taking the shapes of rabbits and other prairie creatures as they continued their journey across the open blue.

Kiff imagined he saw a drakken and a fluffy orin doll. One cloud started to look like a Cratin steam engine complete with little tufts of cloud trailing along behind. A shadow fell across him as a mass of billowing clouds covered the suns for a moment. Kiff thought the great pillowy block looked an awful lot like an underground mansion, like the one he hoped to settle down in once his adventures were over for good.

The sound of approaching horses pulled his mind back down from the heavens. He took a cautious look around the boulders, but it was only a tradesman and his guards heading toward the city.

Kiff had used all the speed he could muster on his board to return to the city a full day before the others would. It was quite fortunate that he had heard Polas speaking to Vor about his contact in Odes’Kan that was securing them passage through the nearby port. Otherwise, Kiff would have had to come up with another excuse to drag them back to the grand city.

He had never been very good at waiting, but the day’s beauty and his pride over his most recent achievements made the slow passage of time bearable. Kiff had spent his whole life being owned, ordered, or made to do or be or act a certain way. Somehow, today felt different. Sitting against the stone, watching a lone sparrowhawk make circles in the endless sky, he felt freer than he had in years.

He was not ashamed of the three bodies that lay next to him, each with slit throats and cold, dead eyes staring at the same open sky. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made. He almost felt bad for the poor fools. There were only two types of people in the world; those who made their own destiny and those who let others make it for them. These three were certainly in the latter group.

But not Kiff. He knew what it meant to be a slave and to be his own master. Just because he took orders or worked toward other people’s goals, that did not mean his goals could not be achieved along the same course of action.

At least, that was what he told himself to preserve the smile he hid behind his dark mask. Kiff had proven his worth and knew that it was appreciated. This would be the last time he ever had to prove himself to anyone. He had left his own life behind so many times before, only to recreate himself with each new path he found. This latest creation would be the last. Either it would fit, or it would break like the city of Klaxiona.

Polas rode with Vor beside him; his eyes forward on the road ahead of him and his mind bent on the difficulty of his path. Xandra rode next to Flint with one hand out to steady the sleeping Faldred. Without Kiff's ceaseless conversations, the ride was slow and peaceful. They had stopped to rest at the end of the first day near the same brook they had camped on their way from the city. Vor had caught a few pallid trout for their dinner, and the night had passed without incident, each one taking their watch in turn. They began again before dawn, but lost ground when they were forced to double back to the brook to retrieve a few scrolls Flint had left behind in his sleepy, early-morning haze.

Hours later, the suns hid themselves away against the southern horizon, and the air turned cold with their passing. The ride through the plains of Nas Sonath had gone smoothly and swiftly thanks to Vor’s guidance. Now the city of Odes’Kan, with its looming walls, waited a few kallows ahead.

As the group passed a large cluster of boulders, a metal disk whirred through the twilight air. It nicked Vor’s armor and careened off into the distance. Polas shouted for everyone to stop, and Xandra had to keep Flint from casting a reflexive spell as he was pulled from his slumber.

"You should really be more cautious," Kiff said with a salute. He sat atop the largest of the boulders, his posture cocky and playful. "I could have been a whole team of assassins, and then where would you be?"

"Whetting our bloodlust on the cries of dying assassins." Vor clenched his jaw and ground his teeth.

Polas waved a calming hand toward the Dorokti. "What are you doing out here, Kiff?"

Xandra could not help but smile at seeing the Undlander again, but her eyes searched him for reasons of his sudden reappearance. She had been certain that he had abandoned them, and had spent the trip trying to convince herself that she never wanted to see him again.

Kiff sprang down from the boulder, landing in a crouch, and pointed to the other side of the rocks where three bodies lay.

"Thought there might be a nuisance or two waiting for us on the road, so I decided to scout ahead."

He dragged one of the bodies toward the group. From inside the corpse’s pack, he pulled out a metal throwing-star about the size of a man’s palm. Its edges were razor sharp, and it resembled an iconic eight-pointed star.

"It’s a swell thing I did, too," Kiff said. "These guys were planning to ambush us."

He walked over and handed the star to Polas who examined it with a shrug.

Flint beckoned for the item and greedily scrutinized its every detail. "The symbol is familiar, but I cannot place it. I have seen it on Odes’Kan trade manifestos and official documents, and I seem to remember seeing it a few places around town as well."

"It’s the symbol of the House of Stars; the assassins, pickpockets, and ne’er-do-well branch of the Thieves’ Guild," Kiff said. "Apparently not everyone wants your little god-slaying quest to succeed. Might cut into their profits if Exandercrast weren’t around and people started to get all uppity about being good, moral citizens."

Vor turned to Polas, his hand resting on the grip of his axe. "Want me to gut the pup? No reason to dirty your sword with his blood."

Polas shook his head. "Exandercrast has minions everywhere. I did not expect to travel freely, even this far from his home. If this boy has bought us another night before they descend upon us, I will give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Me too!" Xandra said.

The others turned to look at her, and she felt her cheeks burning as bright as her hair.

"I just mean, well, it looks like his story checks out, right?" she said. "Not that three assassins would have troubled Master Kas Dorian, but they may have been lucky enough to fell one or two of us with a surprise attack."

"You see, Vor," Kiff said, "not everyone is out to get you. I mean, those three were, and likely the rest of the Thieves’ Guild is, but that’s four points to our five. I’d call that a win for the good guys. You shouldn’t be so distrustful."

Kiff pulled out his board and step up onto it. It floated him up to eye level with the others, and his silver-blue hair stirred gently with a passing breeze.

"Besides," the Undlander continued, "this is only an advance party. I’m sure there’ll be more inside the city walls. We’ll have to trust each other to make sure we all survive."

The last stretch of road before they reached the gates of Odes’Kan passed in strained silence. Xandra kept stealing glances back at Kiff. For some reason, even he was not his usual chatty self. It was such a strange group and certainly not what she had expected when she stepped onto the road that led to her destiny. She had thought there would be more soldiers, or a team of Gifted, or minstrels, or… something.

The last trickle of sunlight disappeared over the southern horizon as the group stood before the massive gate. The night was clear and crisp, bringing a gentle chill to Xandra’s fingers and nose.

Kiff stepped down from his board. "Give me a second. The gates will be guarded."

He put his board into his pack and pulled out a set of finger-spikes and a grated elbow pad.

"Why don’t you fly over?" Xandra asked.

"Can’t," the Undlander said. "The wall has a black iron lining along the top. Helps protect the city from magical assault, but it also means I’ve gotta do this the hard way."

Kiff finished situating his gear and took off in a sprint toward the wall. He made an impressive leap about a quarter of the way up and used his elbow pad and finger-spikes to latch on. Seconds later, he was on top of the wall. He pulled out his board and threw it down on the far side before disappearing on the other side.

Kiff drifted to the ground in an alley between the city wall and a cobbler’s shop. A few barrels lay along the wall, filled with seed or nails or something else that had likely been forgotten. Kiff ducked behind one at the end of the alley where he had a clear view of the gate. A lone guard stood, stiffly, against a signpost. Luck was on Kiff’s side as the guard had his back turned.

As he approached the unsuspecting sentinel, Kiff stepped closer to the wall and let its shadow engulf him. He pulled a single sickle from its holster and spun it once in his hand. A gentle whir was the only sound as he struck. He lanced the blade into the man’s back, below the rib cage, and hooked the weapon up into the man’s heart.

The guard stepped forward with a gentle groan.

"What in the hells?" the man said as he turned to look at Kiff. "You ever heard of knocking?"

Kiff stood staring, unblinking, at the man. His mouth moved beneath his mask, but it made no sound.

The guard shook his head and walked over to the gears that controlled the gate. Kiff’s sickle wobbled with each step but remained firmly in the man's back. He opened the massive door wide enough for one person to slip through at a time.