Soulbinder (Book 3) (16 page)

“Did you like being there?” Kara asked. She finished off the last bit of her
flenshi
bun.

Joseph nodded. He cupped the apple cider in his hands. “Some of the professors there were amazing. One had the entire Blessed Scriptures memorized.”

Kara raised her eyebrows. “
All
of it?”

Joseph rubbed his thumb along the rim of his cup. “Well, it seemed like it, anyway.”

The young woman turned her head, looking out over the expanse of the Central Plaza. Despite how late it was many people were still out, walking and laughing amidst the glimmering light of the glow-globes, sipping cider and eating roasted chestnuts.

“I’ve never seen a city so alive at night,” said Joseph as he watched Kara’s gaze. “Maklavir wasn’t kidding when he called it the City of Light.”

Kara looked back over at Joseph, scrutinizing his face for a moment. “Why did you leave?”

“Leave what?”

“Seminary.” Kara glanced back at the cathedral behind them, partially lit by the nearby glow-globes. “I still see you reading your Scriptures and praying every morning. Why didn’t you become a priest?”

Joseph shifted on the bench, contemplating his cider. “It’s…complicated.”

Kara gave a small laugh. “I thought
Kendril
was the complicated one. You don’t have a dark secret in your past too, do you?”

Joseph leaned back, rubbing the palm of his free hand on his trouser leg. “No, I…” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “It just wasn’t for me.”

The redhead nodded, and looked out again at the people in the plaza.

A young couple walked by, holding hands and giggling as they whispered into each other’s ears.

“They look so happy,” Kara said, a sudden note of sadness in her voice.

They were silent for another minute or so.

Joseph put his cider cup down, almost empty. He cleared his throat. “Look, Kara…”

The young woman looked over at him, tilting her head expectantly.

“I just…” Joseph took a breath, rubbing his hands again on his trousers. “I wanted to say…to tell you…that—”

“Is that Maklavir?” Kara lifted her head, peering curiously across the plaza.

“What?” His train of thought broken, Joseph looked over as well.

Maklavir was riding hard through the snow-covered plaza, galloping past startled merchants and strollers. He reined Veritas to a halt just in front of the bench.

Joseph and Kara both leapt to their feet.

“Galla’s dead,” the diplomat proclaimed unceremoniously.

Joseph felt his stomach sink. “Kendril?”

Maklavir tipped his hat at two nearby startled women. “For once, no. Someone else beat him to it. Kendril’s chasing after the killer right now.”

Joseph instinctively put a hand to his rapier. “Which way did they go?”

Maklavir looked up an over his shoulder at the far edge of the plaza. “Last I saw, over that way, across the rooftops.”

The pathfinder started to take a step forward, then stopped.

“
Rooftops
?”

The view would probably have been quite lovely, if Kendril had actually had time to admire it. The Vorten Cathedral hung stark and black against the cold stars to his right, and to his far left was the massive roof of the Great Library, the carved gargoyles lining its top visible even from here. In front of him stretched an uneven landscape of snow-covered rooftops and chimneys, pale and still under the frigid night sky.

If Kendril hadn’t been facing the constant threat of slipping, falling, breaking through the roof, or just shattering his legs, it might actually have been pleasant.

He skidded down the side of one roof with a strangled curse, trying his best to keep his balance. A solid stone chimney raced up to meet him, and he grabbed it with his free hand, abruptly stopping his slide.

He paused for a moment, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve as he inspected the rooftops around him.

There was no sign of the assassin. He had caught only fleeting glimpses during the pursuit (if one could even call it that) across the rooftops. She was fast, and agile, more than Kendril had believed physically possible. He couldn’t remember seeing the killer slip once, while his own trousers were already cold and wet from the snow and ice, his arms and legs bruised from countless falls.

Now he couldn’t see her at all.

Kendril grunted, and stepped carefully around the chimney.

The roof sloped down here to a relatively flat section, then sloped back up again on the opposite side. Two large chimneys stood in his path, their great bulk blocking the view of the stars behind them.

Kendril began a controlled slide, half skating down the last few feet of treacherous surface.

Just as he was nearing the end of the sloping roof, he heard a barely audible
click
.

Years of honed reflexes saved his life. Kendril instantly threw himself to one side, glimpsing a flash of something metallic hurtling through the space where his head had been.

It was instantly followed by a low
thunk
and a spurt of sparks from the chimney behind him.

Kendril came up with his pistol ready. He blasted off a hasty shot at the fleeting black shape in front of him.

The bullet went wild and drilled harmlessly into the sloping roof on the opposite side.

Kendril lurched to his feet and reached for his sword.

The assassin swung around, and caught him neatly in the mid-section with a well-placed kick.

Kendril’s back crashed hard against the chimney. Snow and ice tumbled off the brick sides.

The assassin moved with terrible speed and came in again. The starlight glinted briefly off a short blade in her hand.

Kendril dodged back and around, using the solid stonework of the chimney as partial cover as he yanked his short sword free.

Unperturbed by his defensive maneuver, the female assassin cut in low with her long knife, aiming for his abdomen.

Steel rang out on steel as Kendril parried the blow. He slashed out a wild riposte as he struggled to keep from sliding on his uncertain footing.

With a grunt, the woman ducked back around the other side of the chimney, moving surely and quickly over the angled roof.

Kendril made a controlled skid back down the roof, catching up to the assassin just as she leapt onto the flat area below.

She whirled. A long brown ponytail lashed out from under her raised hood.

Kendril planted one foot, testing the slick ice underneath. He swore he could see a smile on the woman’s face. At least, the half of her face he could see.

For one long moment they stood facing each other, mere feet apart, their breath wafting out long and white in front of them.

The assassin stared steadily at Kendril, as if daring him to attack.

Shaking off the sudden feeling of doubt that assailed him, Kendril bounded forward.

The killer took a step back, and flung something onto the ground in the Ghostwalker’s path.

There were two sharp
bangs
and flashes of light, followed by a choking cloud of oily smoke.

Kendril blinked and hesitated for a moment, his view of the target totally lost. He lashed out twice with his short sword into the pall of smoke in front of him, but met nothing but air.

In another few seconds the cloud began to dissipate.

Kendril took a step back, his sword at the ready.

He was just in time to see the dark shape of the assassin disappear over the low edge of the sloping roof.

Cursing under his breath, Kendril started forward again.

“We could be in trouble when they find the body, Joseph. Kendril was asking the innkeeper about Galla. The authorities are sure to suspect something.”

The pathfinder listened with half an ear, scanning the rooftops above them as they rode down the winding street. “Yes, but we’re new in town. Hopefully they won’t be able to identify you or Kendril.”

Kara gripped her pony tightly with her legs and drew her longbow from the pack on her mount’s back. “You say the killer was a woman?”

Maklavir nodded, glancing up at the jutting rooftops himself. “I’ve never seen anything like it. She jumped backwards through a glass window and landed on her feet on the opposite roof. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it myself.”

Joseph stopped at a small intersection. A lone glow-globe lit the dark street.

“That way,” Maklavir said, pointing down the street to the right. “Last I saw of Kendril he was sliding over rooftops in that direction.” He nodded his head the other way. “The inn is just down the street over there.”

Joseph turned back to the diplomat. “Get back there and get Simon. Then meet us back in the Central Plaza.”

Maklavir nodded. “You’re going after Kendril?”

Joseph turned his horse around, tugging at the handkerchief around his neck. “Sounds like he could use some help.”

Kara peered down the street. “Especially up there. Those rooftops have to be covered with more than a foot of snow.”

“Yes, well knowing Kendril,” said Maklavir as he turned, “I imagine he has the situation under control.”

For the hundredth time, Kendril found himself wishing he had his long rifle.

He got occasional glimpses of the assassin ahead of him, racing and dancing over the icy rooftops of Vorten as if it had been a summer field. She was fast and skilled beyond anything that Kendril had ever seen. It was amazing to watch her. She was almost like a dancer in her movements, stepping lightly over snow and shingles as if she had been doing it all her life.

Kendril, on the other hand, wasn’t faring so well.

His ribs, elbows and legs burned from countless falls on the rooftops. Twice he had almost fallen off, and once his leg had actually broken through a thin section of the roof, until he had managed to wrench it out again. If he had had his long rifle, he could have at least taken a shot at the fleeing assassin by now, but as it was he knew his pistols would never stand a chance of hitting her at the distance they were from each other.

The worst part of it, he knew, was that she was going to get away. It was just a matter of time. It was taking every ounce of effort on his part just to keep up with her, and she was slowly gaining ground on him.

Kendril knew he had to do something fast. He just didn’t know what it was.

He was halfway up the side of a roof when his leg shot out from under him and sent him sliding back down.

He threw out his arms, grabbing futilely at the snow around him for purchase. With a sinking feeling, he felt his legs go off the edge of the roof into space. The next stop, he knew, was the street twenty feet below.

Kendril thrashed out with his hands and grabbed hold of the frozen gutter.

His whole body lurched over the side and came to an abrupt halt in mid-air.

The metal gutter screamed under his weight. Icicles scattered off towards the street down below.

He made one grab for the rooftop again, and missed miserably.

The gutter continued to groan, giving a sharp squealing sound. It didn’t take a genius to tell that it wouldn’t hold for long. 

He glanced over his shoulder quickly at the street below him.

It was a twisty side street, covered with snow like the rest of Vorten. A few modest houses lined the street on either side.

Two men were staring up at him from across the way, their mouths hanging open.

Grimacing, Kendril turned back to the roof. The gutter continued to give a metallic wail, bending a little as it did.

He could try to drop to the street below. Assuming he didn’t break a leg, he could still try to cut off the assassin, track her from the ground.

The problem, of course, was that every second he delayed, the assassin got one more step ahead of him.

Gritting his teeth, and shaking his head again to get the snow out of his eyes, he glanced down again, then over to his right.

The end of the roof ran within an arm’s length of the next building. There, encrusted with ice and filth, was another metal gutter, leading up the side of the wooden wall.

The gutter Kendril was holding on to continued to groan. A bracket tore off to his left and fell down towards the street below.

Kendril began to swing his body, moving his hands down the length of the gutter.

It was a long shot, he knew, but it was the only one he had.

It was hard work to get the horses to go fast through the snow, especially while trying to watch the rooftops at the same time. Joseph found himself hissing out a few choice phrases that would have shocked his old professors back in Kendrake.

Behind him Kara rode on her pony, her bow out and her eyes scanning the rooftops as well.

It was almost impossible, like searching for a needle in a haystack. Their view from the street was limited at best. Joseph didn’t even know if they were going in the right direction.

The few pedestrians they passed stared at them in surprise, probably wondering where anyone was going at a full gallop this time at night.

Joseph found himself cursing again.

“There!” Kara’s voice shot out through the cold night air.

Joseph whirled around, and brought his horse to a stop.

Kara’s arm pointed up and to the right, towards the rooftops above.

Joseph swung his head around in the direction she was pointing.

He saw it briefly, a black figure against the dark sky. It dropped out of view just as he turned, its cloak flapping as it leapt down.

It had been too brief to tell if it had been Kendril, or the supposed assassin he was pursuing.

Either way, though, it was a step in the right direction.

“Good eyes,” he called back to Kara. He glanced quickly up the street.

There was an alleyway off to the left. It looked as if it might just cut through to where they needed to go.

“Come on!” he said as he kicked his horse forward.

Swinging her pony around, Kara followed.

She paused briefly by a snow-covered chimney, glancing behind her. Her breath misted white in the chill air, drifting slowly away like a fog.