144: Wrath (20 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Xandra sat on the floor with a mystic’s candle beside her as she read from a small leather book. She liked to pull out her copy of Lady Andrenelle’s Journal whenever she needed to be distracted. The diary was laced with Kennik threading along the spine and embossed with a dark-winged owl, the crest of Thalry. The words on each page looped and dipped in perfect script, copied from the original by a mage of the Hollow Mountain libraries. She often found peace in the strength of conviction the protector of Thalry had shown in defending the city against her own uncle’s tyranny. Unfortunately, Kiff was making it very hard to concentrate on the inspirational book.

The Undlander stood in the foyer of the Sigil house, one room away from Xandra. She could see him through the open door as he parried and slashed at imagined foes with his sickle. He used his left arm as a shield, blocked phantom attacks, and returned thrusts with his curved blade. He spun, rolled, and kicked off walls, all part of a fight against the emptiness around him.

Her arcane candle flickered and made shadows dance around the masked boy, but it did nothing to keep her warm, so she pulled her traveler’s cloak closer around her shoulders.

Things were much easier back at the Hollow Mountains. People said what they meant and kept all of their plans out in the open. Xandra was not used to relying on someone whose face she had never even seen. Faldred were trustworthy, big-hearted people, but it seemed everyone she had met since leaving home had hidden motives.

Kiff was a complete enigma to her, and she hated it. What could he possibly gain by being part of an organization like the Thieves' Guild? Maybe it was like Flint said, and he was using them for information. But how would he have known to join them so far in advance? It did not make any sense to her. Perhaps it was some sort of arcane coercion. Kiff had been a slave before, it was possible the mage he killed had placed a compulsion on him.

Or maybe he was lying to them.

She kept her eyes down toward her book and did her best to pretend she was not watching the Undlander’s display. His speed was impressive, and part of her wanted to join him for a quick sparring session. Instead, she only allowed herself an occasional glance while making little headway on the page before her.

After a short time, he stopped and sheathed his blade.

"You should have seen me before."

Xandra acted as though she did not hear him as he approached. He stood beside her for a moment waiting for a reply.

"Hey."

Xandra snapped her book closed and stared at him. He was skinny and kind of short. Well, shorter than Master Kas Dorian and Vor, at least. And that hair looked so ridiculous as it reflected silver and blue lances from the candle's light.

"Sorry," he said.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, trying to pretend she had not been waiting for his words.

Kiff shrugged. "You seem upset. I guess I’m sorry you had to find out this way."

"You’re sorry I found out this way?" Xandra dropped her book and stood to confront him. "Maybe you should start with sorry for lying to us."

"Yeah," Kiff said. "That too."

She poked him in the chest. "For being a thief and an assassin!"

"What do you want me to say?"

"How do you honestly expect anyone to trust you, Kiff? You disappear and act like it’s no big deal. You seem to know everything about the Thieves’ Guilds plans, which is more than a little suspicious. You never let anyone –"

He raised his hands to cut her off. "I got it."

Xandra was not sure if she was more upset with Kiff or with herself for making such a childish outburst. She did not know why the Undlander aggravated her so much. Why should she trouble herself with what he did before they met, or for that matter, what he did after they went their separate ways? She decided it did not concern her, and she would not be bothered if it came down to it. He had nothing to do with her aside from Master Kas Dorian. All Xandra had to do was fulfill her destiny, and she did not need Kiff to do that.

"You’re right though," he said. "I guess I'm not used to anyone caring. Usually people only want to know whether or not I can get a job done. My past and things I’ve done don’t come up that often unless it’s to sell them on the deal."

"What makes you think I care?"

"You?" Kiff said. "I was talking about Flint. The old cave wog has a heart for me. I think it’s one of those wounded koel pup sort of things."

Xandra laughed, but quickly bit down on her tongue.

Kiff looked at Xandra from behind his dark goggles. She was even cuter when she was trying to be angry. Most of the girls he had met in his travels were shortsighted silver-seekers that would walk away from a life if a brighter coin or a better blade appeared. Maybe it was the Faldred upbringing. No doubt, that would mess with a girl’s head or slow it down a bit. But maybe it might have opened it up. Maybe he could do with a portion of that extra vision.

"I want to trust you, Kiff. I really do. But there are too many reasons not to."

"Yeah, I know." He sat on the floor, and Xandra followed suit. "Maybe it’s like you say. It’s destiny, or my part of the prophecy, or whatever."

"How do you mean?" Xandra asked.

"Your whole life is planned out. Start to finish. Maybe mine’s the same way."

"You can’t blame destiny for your past, Kiff. Prophecy or not, I chose this path and the burden that comes with it."

"Did you? Sometimes I get the feeling this life chose me."

Xandra picked up her book and clutched it against her chest. "So that impassioned speech you gave me about letting go?"

Kiff popped his back and scratched his neck. "It’s a lot easier to preach truth to someone else than to listen to your own words. And I’ve already let go of a lot more than most people."

Xandra smiled a sad, empathic smile. The way she looked at him, it was as though somehow she shared in his burden, and he felt it become somehow lighter.

"Still," he said, "there’s always something I can never seem to get away from."

"What?"

He was not sure what he was doing. There was no reason for him to have this conversation. No reason for him to be so open with this girl he hardly knew. But at the same time, it felt good. Like he was finally doing something right.

"Is it the name thing? Flint told me something more about it."

Why did it always come back to his name? Why did it even matter? Had he been born a Peltin or a Coranthen or even a wrinkly, fat Faldred no one would have cared. One more year and the freedom of being nameless would be taken from him anyway. Maybe if he ran a little faster or pushed harder, they would never catch up with him, and he would never have to go back.

"I think Kiff is a fine name. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything else, anyway."

"Yeah, well, you’re not an Undlander. Almost ten years, and all this time I’ve been drawn to the dregs, but the gutter’s no place to find a name."

"Is that why you wanted to join Master Kas Dorian? To be part of something greater. What name are you looking for?"

"I wish I knew," Kiff said. "But no. I’m here for old debts. Hopefully this will be the last of them."

Xandra touched his elbow gently.

"Besides," Kiff said, shying away from her touch. "You guys can’t even decide whose side you want me on."

"We can’t decide?"

Kiff laughed. "Take it easy. It was just a joke."

"Someday soon you are going to have to choose, Kiff," Xandra said. "I just hope that you choose me."

Kiff looked up at her, and she flushed a bright red.

"Us. Choose us. Master Kas Dorian, really. You know what I meant." She stood and gathered up the mystic’s candle. "It’s late. I’m going to bed." She turned and hurried toward the foyer.

"Xandra, I know my word isn’t worth much to you."

She stopped in the doorway, but did not turn to look at him.

"I would never hurt you," he said. "You can trust me."

"Good night, Kiff."

Xandra took the candle and left him standing alone in the empty room. As he watched her leave, his Undlander eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could see everything, no amount of shadow could conceal an object from his vision, and no magic could bar his gaze. Why then, was it so hard to see each step before he took it?

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Reyce packed his few belongings into a rucksack and removed a large, wooden star from a hidden panel in his private quarters. The room held only a small desk and a rickety, old stool. There was no bed because the undead - even those that held on to their sentience - were unable to sleep. The desk was littered with ancient scrolls and various alchemists’ tools. The back corner of the room held a pile of abandoned and broken devices, many of which looked as though they had been discarded in rage; their pieces smashed against the wall. Reyce held the eight-point symbol out in front of him and frowned in disgust.

"What are you planning on doing with that?"

Reyce clutched the emblem to his chest and turned. The Undlander thief stood in the doorway. "Kiff, I didn’t hear you come in."

"I didn’t want you to."

"Arrogance," Reyce said.

The boy shrugged and hatred burned in what was left of Reyce’s heart. This child was nothing more than any of the handful of self-entitled, immature rabble that flocked to the pitiable House of Stars.

Reyce edged past the assassin, but the bothersome Undlander turned and followed him down the main hall toward the front door.

"Now where are you off to, Caretaker?" Kiff asked.

Reyce opened the door and tried to close the thief inside as he left, but the Undlander put his foot in the way.

"It’s not any of your concern, Thief," Reyce said. "We’re on the same side here."

Kiff followed him outside and around the west corner of the guildhall. "Then you shouldn’t mind if I trail along. Us being allies and all."

The lifeless custodian stopped and glared at him, and Kiff stared right back, hoping that the unnerving effect his dark goggles and mask had on the living might also provide some intimidation with the dead. Reyce made a sound like a rock dragged across slate and shook his head, but he proceeded down the side of the building to a small window near the back without saying a further word. Kiff chuckled to himself.

The warden of the Sigil House stepped carefully to avoid knocking over a few loose boards and toppling a stack of bricks.

Kiff pulled out his board and floated above the roofline where he could see every move Reyce made.

The caretaker reached the window and affixed the star emblem to the pane. Kiff watched and waited.

When Reyce had finished securing the wooden emblem, he turned and walked away from the guildhall as fast as his stiff legs would carry him.

Kiff dipped down and swept along the alley behind him. "So if we’re on the same side, why did you try to smoke me out in front of the others?" he asked.

Reyce took a quick turn at the end of the alley and another as he crossed the street. Before the duo reached the edge of Cheapside, he turned again and ducked down a cluttered alleyway.

"Okay. Drop the shield already," Kiff said. "You’re not gonna lose me with a few turns. Especially not walking. So stop, and let’s talk."

Kiff crouched and sped up, bringing his board around in front of the undead Peltin.

"I smoked you out for the same reason you would have, Thief," Reyce said. "To buy some trust."

Kiff shrugged. "Makes sense."

"I’m honestly surprised you haven’t been gutted by now. Not one of them trusts you. Are you even trying to do your job?" Reyce sighed. "I guess I shouldn’t expect much professionalism from the House of Stars; nothing but copper-piece thieves and degenerates."

"Well, we can’t all be members of the glorious House of Suns, now can we?" Kiff said with a laugh.

"No." Reyce sneered. "We can’t."

"But the House of Stars isn’t just for thieves and degenerates." Kiff pulled out his bladed whip. "You said it yourself: occasionally some of us show promise as brilliant assassins, too."

Reyce stepped backwards out of the alley and into an old courtyard. He stumbled a bit and knelt down to retrieve a knife from his boot. The courtyard  had no cobblestones or tidy sidewalks. A rundown fountain with stagnant water sat in the middle of the hard dirt square. Unlike the other fountains in Odes’Kan, this one had seen many years since any water rippled from its central spout, no magelights danced beneath the water’s surface, and any coins that may have once littered its basin had long since been taken and spent on bread.

Kiff rode his board around the man in a close circle. "And sometimes that means tying up loose ends. Especially those that can’t keep their mouth shut. Besides, your bosses seem to think having someone on the payroll that’ll be around for, oh, ever, I guess, is too much of a drain on the coin purse. Doesn’t really matter to me. I get paid either way." The Undlander snapped his bladed whip out to the side, but it did not make a sound. Kiff shook his head. "I don’t know why I use this thing."

Reyce crouched and readied his blade.

"I’ve never killed a dead man before," Kiff said.

"You are welcome to try."

Kiff laughed. "This should be interesting."