Chain of Shadows (Blood Skies, Book 6) (24 page)

Cross laughed.  “Yeah.  I get that a lot.”

“What do you make of this place?” Flint asked.  He stood against the wall with his arms crossed. 

“
It’s hard to say,” Cross said, looking around the darkened room like it would give him some answers.  “In a lot of ways it’s not all that different from the Southern Claw.”  He walked over to the windows.  “Hakim said there aren’t many cities.  The Masters seem to be the ones in charge, but he didn’t really want to talk about them.”

“
Have you heard of them?” Flint asked.

“
Very few people back home know shit about Nezzek’duul outside of its name,” Cross said.  “You see some influence in the dress and food in the southern cities…you know, crime ports like Dagger and Blacksand…but you hardly ever run into someone who’s actually from here, and if they are they were so young when they left they hardly remember anything.”

“
And no one ever comes here,” Flint said.  “Or if they do…”

“…
they never leave,” Cross said with a nod.  He gave Flint a measured look.  “Have you seen something to make you suspicious?”

“
No,” Flint said after a moment’s hesitation.  “I’ve just…got a really bad feeling about this place.”

Cross thought on that for a moment.  “Yeah,” he said.  “You and me both.”  He donned his armor coat.

“Where the hell are you going?” Flint asked.

“
Danica and the others aren’t back yet.  Reza and I are going to go find them.”

“
Give me a minute.  You could use someone with brains.”

“
Well, that rules you out,” Cross said with a laugh.

“
Very funny.  You little shit.  Seriously…”

“
Seriously,” Cross said.  “I need you here.  Shiv needs you here.  And I need you with Shiv.” 

Flint’s face grew grim.  “What are you talking about?” he asked.  His voice had an edge to it that hadn’t been there before.  One of the many things Cross admired about the aging former Marine was his fierce protectiveness over his daughter.  He was a rabid pit bull when it came to her.

As it should be.

“
She’s unique,” Cross said.

“
Damn straight she is.  She’s my daughter.”

“
That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” Cross said.  “She’s proved that she’s powerful.  Hell, she saved me and Dani, and she practically stopped the Maloj from coming through all by herself…and she’s eleven!”  They heard footsteps in the hall, growing loud and then fading.  Cross lowered his voice.  “Flint, for all I know, she’s why we were brought here in the first place.”

Flint looked like he’d seen a ghost.  “Wait…to this city?”

“To this city, to Nezzek’duul…hell, Flint, I don’t know.  I could be totally off my rocker here, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance.  We’re in a strange environment, thousands of miles from home, with no clue what’s going on.  I’ve got Dani out there in the desert, wolf sorcerers on the loose, and a pair of magic swords with an agenda they won’t share.  There’s very,
very
little I have control over right now, but keeping Shiv safe is something you and I can try to do.”  He breathed deep, and tried to steady himself.  He sat down on the bed. 
Get a hold of yourself.  Just calm down.
  “Sorry,” he said.

“
Don’t be,” Flint said.  He sat down on the small chair in the corner, opposite the bed.  “I hadn’t realized how overwhelming this all was for you.”

“
You were in the service,” Cross said.  “I’m sure you saw your fair share of shit.”

“
I did,” Flint said.  “I was in Bosnia.  Sarajevo.”  His eyes glossed over, locked on some distant memory.  “A lot of lives wasted.  Hell on earth, really.  God, that was a long time ago…”  He snapped to.  “Nothing like now.”  He looked at Cross.  “And I was fresh meat when I went over there.  I just followed orders.  Hard as it was, I was never the man in charge.  I don’t know how you do it, Eric.”

Cross laughed bitterly.  “Me, neither. “

Flint nodded.  “I’ll keep her safe,” he said.  “Thank you.”

Cross stood up and put out his hand.  Flint smiled, stood and shook it.  “Thank
you
,” Cross said.  “You and Shiv saved me.  In more ways than one.”

A knock sounded at the door, and they both jumped.  It had come sudden, with no warning of footsteps in the hall.

“You’re popular tonight,” Flint said.  “Would that be Reza?”

Cross looked at his watch.  “No, it shouldn’t be.  I’m meeting her downstairs.”  He checked the HK, and slid it behind his back.  He motioned Flint to move around the corner; Flint had his SIG Sauer drawn, and he positioned himself just out of sight.

Hakim stood outside.  The Magister of Raijin was a remarkably tall man, easily towering five or six inches over Cross’s six-foot-one.  His dark skin was patterned with runes, his thick black hair was cropped short, and his eyes and teeth gleamed brightly in the dim light. 

In spite of his stature and commanding voice Hakim was soft-spoken and came across as very kind, much like Jaffe.  Geniality and a gentle social nature seemed to be the norm for the people of Nezzek’duul, and in spite of his suspicions Cross thought the Southern Claw could take lessons from these people of the southern lands. 

“Eric,” Hakim smiled.  Cross had insisted Hakim call him by his first name, since that seemed to be the custom.  He bowed his head slightly.  Hakim’s deep crimson robes were set with black and purple embroidery detailing ravens and crescent moons.  “May I come in?”

“
Of course,” Cross said.  “Flint, it’s all good.”

Flint stepped out.  Like Cross he’d had the good sense to conceal his weapon. 

“Evening,” Flint said.

“
Good evening,” Hakim said.  “Is all well?” he asked.  “Are your quarters adequate?”

“
We couldn’t ask for more,” Cross said.  It felt strange to be speaking so formally – not the words but the cadence, the tone.  Unlike Jaffe, Hakim actually spoke the language of the Southern Claw, though Cross wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible.  His accent was nearly flawless, with just a slight hint of the exotic and almost musical Nezzek’duulian accent Ankharra had started to let slip ever since they’d arrived.

“
Good,” he said.  “Then I’m afraid I must make a request of you.”

Cross hesitated.  He’d had a feeling something like this was coming.

“What sort of request?” he asked.

“
We must ask you not to go looking for your friends.”

Cross stiffened, but tried not to show his surprise.  He looked at Flint, who unfolded his arms and took on something of a defensive stance. 

“How did you know?” Cross asked.  “And how can you ask me not to go?”

“
The how…is not important,” Hakim said.  His evasion only confirmed what Cross had already suspected: their hosts were spying on the exiles, though he wasn’t sure how.  “And the why should be clear,” Hakim continued.  “It is very dangerous in the desert, especially at night.  You yourself know this.”

“
Which is exactly
why
we need to go find my people,” Cross said.  He hoped his tone didn’t betray his anger.  “Two of my dear friends are out there, along with a man I respect very much.  I’m not leaving them hanging out to dry.”

“
I’m sorry, but I cannot allow it,” Hakim insisted.  “Please.  You don’t understand…”

“
You’re right,” Flint said gruffly.  “We
don’t
understand.”

Cross watched Hakim’s face.  He was a hard man to read.  Despite his pleasant tone and words his face was utterly without emotion, a dark and rune-covered mask. 

“Maybe you could explain it to us,” Cross said.  “We’re your guests, but please understand that keeping my people safe is my biggest concern.  And it’s going to be very difficult for me to accept the idea that I’m supposed to sit by and do nothing.”

“
And we would not ask you to, if it were not of the utmost importance that you remain in the city,” Hakim said.  “Please.  It is an ill omen to enter the desert on this night.”

“
What’s so special about this night?” Cross asked.

“
It is a holy festival,” Hakim answered.  “It is the day when The Masters were brought to us, when they were cast out of the burning heavens and shielded Nezzek’duul from the horrors of the wastelands.  This day is called The Fading, for it is when the walls of heaven faded away and its messengers came down to protect us.”

Cross looked at Flint.  They were both at a loss.  “Okay,” Cross said.

“It is sacrilege to leave the city at this time,” Hakim said plainly.  “We cannot allow you to leave.  Not tonight.”

“
But they’re
already out there
,” Cross said.  “And they should have been back by now.  If it’s sacrilege to be outside…”

“
Not to be outside,” Hakim interrupted.  “To leave.  And I cannot allow it.  I am sorry.”  He bowed again, and without another word opened the door and stepped back into the hall. 

“
Hakim,” Cross called out.  “What about tomorrow?”

Hakim stiffened and hesitated but didn’t turn around.  “Tomorrow is also a holy day.  Deliverance – the day we celebrate the beginning of our new era.”

“I can’t leave my people out there,” Cross said.  “You have to understand that.”

Hakim turned.  “I do.  I will speak with The Masters.  Perhaps they can make an exception.”  He set off down the hall. 

Cross closed the door.  “Shit.”

“
What do you plan to do?” Flint asked.

Cross tapped his fingers against the wall. 

How the hell did they know?

“
Could you do me a favor?” he asked.  “Do you know where Reza’s room is?”

“
Yeah, it’s just down the hall from ours,” Flint said.

“
Go tell her we’re delaying our little trip,” Cross said.  “At least for now.”

Flint looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. 

How did they know?

“
I’ll talk to you later,” Cross said.  “I need to find Ankharra.”

Ankharra’s room was located just down the hall, so after Flint had gone Cross went and knocked on the witch’s door. 

She wasn’t expecting him, which was clear from the fact that she answered the door in a bathrobe.  The first thing he noticed was that her smooth legs had just as many tattoos as her arms, spirals of serpentine scroll-work and elaborate arcane script.  Even with her normally tightly-pulled hair disheveled and down around her shoulders she was still stunning, a naturally exotic and beautiful woman he imagined other women envied, even though she seldom seemed to even notice the attention men gave her.

“Cross,” she said.  “Why are you in uniform?”

“
We need to talk,” he said. 

Ankharra invited him in while she tied up her robe and offered him a drink.  Cross stopped right near the kitchen area – their rooms were effectively identical – and turned to face her.

“Listen,” he said, “something strange is going on here.”   

“
What do you mean?” she asked.

“
I wanted to go look for the others,” he said.  “Hakim said no.”

Ankharra watched him for a moment, considering.  “Did he say why?”  She sat down on the edge of the bed.

“He said it’s a holy night.  Celebrating the arrival of The Masters.  And tomorrow’s no good, either.  Another holy day.”

“
This is what he said when you asked him?”

“
That’s the thing…I didn’t ask. He just showed up at my room and told me not to go through with it.”  He waited a moment for that to sink in.  “Only Reza and I knew, but he showed up out of the blue to put a stop to our plans before we’d even done anything.”

“
That must mean…”

“
They’re spying on us somehow.”

Ankharra considered.  “Is that so unusual?” she said.  “I mean, think about it, Cross…they’re not exactly used to visitors.”

Cross couldn’t argue with that.  “I still don’t like it,” he said.  “And I sure as hell don’t intend to just leave Dani and Ronan out there.”

“
I understand,” Ankharra said.  “But we have to be cautious here.  Like you said, we’re not entirely sure of what we’re dealing with, and I don’t think it would be wise to anger our hosts, especially when they have us at such a disadvantage.”

“
I can’t just do
nothing
,” he said.

“
You might have to,” Ankharra said.

He paced back and forth.  He didn’t want to let his emotions get the best of him, but he damned well didn’t want to hang his friends out to dry.  His earlier misgivings about Ankharra still weighed in the back of his mind, as well, but he’d convinced himself he could trust her.