The Black Bouquet

CHAPTER 15

Sefris had suffered a second wound, a gash just above the knee, by the time the fire started and the ruffian at the far end of the hall started bawling for help. A couple of the other Red Axes left off attacking her to answer the call.

She dodged a dagger thrust, grabbed her assailant, and spun him at a goblin armed with a spiky-headed mace. The outlaws fell in a tangle, and finally, for the first time since the man with the cane had snared her in his enchantment, she had time to rattle off a spell of her own.

She snatched a handful of black ribbons from one of her pockets, recited the words of power, and snapped the lengths of silk as if they were a cat-o-nine-tails. Tatters of shadow exploded from a point on the floor to engulf the nearest Red Axes, who cried out at the insubstantial but somehow repulsive contact. They stood dazed and shaken for a few moments, and their incapacity bought Sefris even more time.

Time to dissolve the unnatural sluggishness with which the wizard had afflicted her. Crooking her fingers through the proper signs, she began the counterspell. Gloom crawled around her, the Shadow Weave responding to her call.

At the same time, she took note of the blue fog filling the opposite end of the room. Thanks to her own magical expertise, she knew what the conjured mist was. No doubt it was intended to drop Aeron and Miri in their tracks, make them too nauseated to do anything but retch, but it evidently hadn't. Sefris could hear them calling to one another inside the cloud. If they could resist the vapor long enough, they were going to flee through the far doorway.

Sefris wouldn't be able to follow without fighting her way past more Red Axes and subjecting herself to the debilitating queasiness engendered by the fog. She thought she'd be better off trying something else instead.

She spoke the final word of power. The air around her sizzled like meat frying in a pan as her own magic burned the small man's hindering spell away. She whirled, dashed out the door, and bounded down the wide marble steps.

As she ran, her wounded leg throbbed, the pain begging her to favor it. She blocked the discomfort from her mind. If she allowed herself to limp, she might not be fast enough to intercept Aeron on the ground floor.

It turned out that she wasn't anyway. When she saw the bloody mark on the banister of the cellar stairs, she realized he and Miri had scurried down them to escape through the Underways. She continued the chase through the labyrinth of storerooms and piled crates until she found her way to the exit.

It was still locked. And bolted. Even if Aeron knew a burglar's trick that would allow him to secure it fully from the other side, it was unlikely he would have taken the time. He and Miri had actually fled the house at ground level.

Which was to say the handprint had been a trick to make a pursuer believe the fugitives had gone that way. It had worked well, too. It would be futile to race back upstairs and try to pick up Aeron's trail. Even if it didn't result in another useless encounter with the Red Axes, and further delay, he'd gained too long a lead.

Sefris simply opened the inner door, then the outer one, and departed via the tunnels herself. She felt herself seething with anger, and worked to quash the feeling. Her frustration and injured pride in her own competence didn't matter, nor the pain of her wounds-only patience, resolution, and the success they would bring did.

Yet deep down, she hoped with a bitter fervor that, in the course of accomplishing her mission, she'd have the chance to slaughter Aeron, Miri, Kesk, the wizard with the blackwood cane, and everyone else who'd gotten in her way. Perhaps it was a prayer that even a deity as cold and unyielding as the Lady of Loss would grant.

A couple blocks from Kesk's mansion, Miri and Aeron climbed a rusty wrought iron ladder, the rungs tangled in ivy, that ran up a tower wall. At the top was a Rainspan. From there, they could watch for signs of pursuit. Thus far, she hadn't seen any.

She and the outlaw leaned on the railing and panted for a time, catching their breaths and waiting for their stomachs to settle. The night breeze was mild, but her clothes were so sweat-soaked that it chilled her even so.

When Miri felt able, she said, "Better let me take a look at that shoulder."

"All right."

For once, Aeron's voice was dull, not the energetic, sometimes humorous tone to which she'd become accustomed.

She ripped the rent in his bloodstained sleeve wider to get a better look at the gash.

"You're lucky," said the ranger. "It's shallow. If you think it's unsafe to go back to Ilmater's house, some salve from an apothecary and a bandage will probably take care of it. If need be, I can put a couple stitches in."

"Lucky…"

From the bitterness in his voice, Miri realized he wasn't talking about the cut.

"I'm sorry the plan didn't work," she said. "It nearly did. If the wizard hadn't been there…"

"Even though he was," Aeron said, "we almost saved my father. Another couple paces, and I would have picked him up in my arms. Then the fog came, and it panicked us. We turned tail and left him lying there."

"We didn't have a choice."

"You can't be sure of that. Maybe we still could have gotten him out. We'll never know, because you said we had to run, and I listened."

She stared at him, then said, "So it's all the fault of my cowardice that things didn't work out."

"I didn't say that."

"Not in so many words, but… Listen, when we fight your fellow cutthroats, all they do is try to club you unconscious, or cut a leg out from under you. They're out to kill me. So I'll be damned if I understand where you find the gall to question my courage."

"I said we both panicked. I didn't mean to put it all off on you."

"I'm a scout of the Red Hart Guild," Miri replied. "I have honor. You're a common sneak thief. You don't. Be thankful I'm willing to dirty my…"

She felt the clench in her muscles and heard the shrillness in her voice. She took a long breath.

"Never mind," Miri continued. "I shouldn't have said that I'm frustrated, too."

For a few heartbeats, Aeron just stared out at the night as if struggling to swallow his own anger.

Eventually he said, "For all we know, he could be dead now."

"I don't think the mist would kill him," Miri replied, "and I didn't see any fresh blood on him when he was lying on the floor. I think the one Red Axe just knocked him out with the flat of his blade, or his fist."

"That could have been enough to kill him, sickly as he is. Or maybe, after what happened, the Axes decided I'm never going to trade the book, and they stuck a knife in him."

"I doubt the wizard would let them do anything rash," said the ranger. "He strikes me as too canny."

She reached out to give Aeron a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but he irritably twisted away from her touch.

"You don't know that, either," he said. "All we do know is that we wasted our one chance to sneak into Kesk's house. We'll never get inside a second time."

"Then it's time to try it my way, isn't it? Seek help from the Bouquet’s rightful owner, and the authorities."

Aeron scowled and said, "I explained to you why that wouldn't work."

Despite herself, Miri felt her own hostility welling up anew.

"While painting our faces green like clowns in a pageant works brilliantly," she said. "I think you won't turn to the law just because it is the law. It would tarnish this notion you have of yourself as some sort of master rogue, and you couldn't bear that. You'd rather let your father die."

"That isn't true. It just wouldn't help."

"What is the answer, then?"

"I don't know," he said. "Shut your mouth for a while, and maybe something will come to me."

Kesk's mood was already sour from several fruitless hours of hunting Aeron through the Underways, and it curdled into cold fury as soon as he tramped into the solar and saw his henchmen. It was obvious from the way they quailed from his gaze, as much as their fresh splints and bandages and the sooty fire damage around the far doorway, that some new fiasco had occurred in his absence.

Ambling closer, his cane tapping the floor, the wizard took it upon himself to explain how Aeron and a female accomplice had entered the house in disguise to spirit Nicos away.

"We would have captured them," the wizard added, "except that Dark Sister Sefris burst in to snatch them away. Evidently she'd been tracking them or something. While we all fought over Master sar Randal and his ally, they escaped. It's rather ironic when you think about it."

Kesk trembled. At that moment, he would dearly have loved to split the rich man's masked face with his axe.

"You think it's funny, do you?" the tanarukk asked.

"Mildly," the wizard replied. "Now, don't glare at me like that. Aeron didn't rescue his father, which means that except for a few casualties, which you, with your horde of underlings, can readily afford, we're no worse off than before."

"And no better."

What truly infuriated Kesk wasn't the wear and tear on his henchmen. Those too weak to defend themselves deserved whatever they got. What nettled him was that, by arranging the raids on his various enterprises, Aeron had successfully concealed his true intentions. In other words, made a fool of him. Kesk wondered which of his other foes or rivals were actually responsible for the harassment his operation had suffered earlier in the evening, at the same time the redheaded thief was invading his home. He vowed to find out, and pay them back triple, but supposed it would have to wait until he settled the maddening business with the black book.

"If," the wizard said, "Aeron could be convinced we'll make a fair trade, give him Nicos and a reasonable amount of coin, too, and not come after either of them later, don't you think he'd agree to it?"

Across the room, bound to his chair, Nicos laughed feebly until an orc silenced him with a slap.

"I suppose that is the proper response to my suggestion," sighed the small man. "Aeron would have to be mad to trust us at this point. Your malice and bungling saw to that."

Kesk glared.

"Get it straight once and for all," the tanarukk grumbled. "I'm not your lackey, and I don't take orders from you. I did what I thought best."

"And look how far it got us."

"As far as your nimble-fingered wizardry and magical toys."

" 'Toys' you extorted from me after I spent years collecting them," the mage countered. "I wouldn't care if it had done some good. But even equipped with enchanted gear, your Red Axes can't lay their hands on one lone-wolf cutpurse. Instead, he's made you look like a dunce in front of the entire city."

Kesk had been thinking something similar himself, which only made the magician's taunt rankle all the more. For a second, he was so angry that it choked off the words in his throat, and the merchant saw something in his face that made the eyes above the lemister scarf widen in alarm.

"Well," gritted Kesk when he was able, "I'm not going to look foolish for much longer. Tomorrow I'm going to put an end to this business."

"How?"

"My people will spread the word that if Aeron doesn't hand over what I want by midnight, I'll chop his father's head off and dump the sundered pieces in Laskalar's Square."

The wizard shrugged and said, "You've been threatening Nicos's welfare right along. How will this be any different?"

"Because of the deadline, my promise to display the corpse to the whole city, and the fact that my men will repeat it to every robber, slaver, and whore they can find. Aeron will know I have to follow through. Otherwise, I'll lose respect."

The magician cocked his head and asked, "You mean, if things don't work out as planned, you actually mean to do it?"

"Yes."

"Then we lose our hold on Aeron, don't we? With Nicos slain, what's to stop him from fleeing Oeble with The Black Bouquet still in his possession?"

"Nothing, I guess. At least I'll be rid of him," Kesk replied, "and you."

"Without me for a partner, you'll never rise any higher than you have already."

Kesk sneered and said, "Maybe it doesn't look like it to you, but since the day I first came to Oeble, with nothing but this axe to help me carve out a life, I've climbed pretty high already. If I never go any farther, that will be all right."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, yes, I do, and you can't talk me out of it. So why don't you turn that twisty mind to yours to the task of laying a trap that Aeron can't possibly escape?"

Aeron kept quickening his pace despite the fact that even under normal circumstances, it could be dangerous to race headlong through the Underways. You could blunder into a strong-arm robber lying in wait for easy prey or intrude on plotters willing to kill to keep their palavering a secret.

Thus, whenever he caught himself, he forced himself to slow down, but it was hard. After fleeing Kesk's mansion, he and Miri had slept aboard an unattended skiff moored at one of the docks. Restless, anguished over their failure to rescue Nicos, he woke first and rose to prowl the streets. It was then that he overheard a team of thieves, two pickpockets, a bag man, and a lookout, discussing Kesk's well-publicized threat to murder his hostage at midnight unless Aeron gave him what he wanted. Since then, he'd felt a seething urgency that made him want to hurry every instant, whether it was sensible or not.

"Do you really think," said Miri, striding along beside him with her bow slung over her shoulder, "our allies are likely to do more than they have already?"

"We won't know until we ask."

"Actually," said the scout, "I already did ask, when we talked to Om-their chief the first time. If you recall, he said he'd snipe at the Red Axes on the sly, but not risk open war."

Squinting against the darkness, Aeron peered down the passage. Three people stood murmuring to one another at the next intersection. He recognized one of them, and once more had to quash the impulse to rush.

"Then I'll just have to change his mind," the thief said.

"I tell you, visiting him again is just a waste of precious time. Let's go to my employer."

"We had this talk already."

The trio ahead were good at their trade. They didn't even glance up as Aeron and Miri drew nearer.

"We had it hours ago," said the scout, "and you promised to come up with a new strategy. This desperate notion won't do, and if it's all you can think of, then we need to try things my way. Fury's Heart, try behaving like a decent, law-abiding person for once in your life. You might like it."

"I might like it all the way up the gallows steps."

The loiterers were just a couple paces away. Aeron's heartbeat quickened.

"I swear by the Forest Queen," said Miri, "I'll make sure you aren't punished. My employer doesn't care about you. He only wants his property retur-"

Aeron pivoted and threw a punch.

Miri must have seen him swing, for she reacted with the quickness of a trained warrior. She dodged, and he only struck her a glancing blow.

She sprang back and reached for the hilt of her broadsword. The problem was that, by retreating from Aeron, she'd merely shifted closer to his three confederates. The largest of them, a half-orc with a broken nose, lashed its cudgel against her back. The blow slapped her leather armor, and she lurched forward.

The other two ruffians lunged at her, bludgeons flailing. She swept her buckler in a backhand stroke that held them off long enough for her sword to clear the scabbard. She cut, the half-orc recoiled, and her blade missed its torso by a finger-length. A passerby who'd stopped to watch the show cried out in excitement.

Aeron edged in on her flank, then faked a leap into the distance. She turned and thrust, and that gave the half-orc a chance to give her another blow from behind. It knocked her to one knee, and the creature's human partners swarmed over her. Her sword was useless at such close quarters. After a few moments of frantic struggling, they pummeled her into submission, then lashed her hands behind her back with rawhide.

"When I said you were learning to think like an Oeblaun native," Aeron said to her, "I gave you too much credit. You told me how one fellow led you into a trap here in the tunnels, and now you've let exactly the same thing happen again. I don't think Sefris will save you this time around."

Miri glared up at him. Blood trickled from her split lip.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"You can't help me rescue my father. Maybe if you had the rest of your precious guild behind you, but not by yourself. I gave you your chance, but you aren't skilled or brave enough."

"Shall we get her moving?" asked the half-orc.

"Yes," Aeron said.

His confederates hauled Miri to her feet and relieved her of her belt pouch and remaining weapons. The half-orc shoved her to set her stumbling in the right direction.

"I'm a better fighter than you," she said, still focused on Aeron. "I still don't see the point of this."

"It's simple enough. I can't trust Kesk to hold to any deal we make. You and I alone can't fight all the Red Axes, or sneak into their lair a second time. So I've decided to save my father with gold. I'll bribe one of the gang to smuggle him out."

"Maybe that would work," she said, "but…"

The half-orc gave her another push.

"Unfortunately," Aeron said, "the Axes are all afraid of their chief, and they live pretty well already. That means it's going to take a lot of coin to tempt one of them. More than I've got, and more than I can steal in the time remaining. I wouldn't be able to sell The Black Bouquet quickly enough, either, or use the book itself as a bribe. Kesk's cutthroats wouldn't understand what it is or why it's valuable any more than I did until you explained it to me."

"But you decided what you could do," Miri said, "is sell me."

Aeron grinned and replied, "I found out who wanted all those yuan-ti to capture you, then asked him if he was still interested. It turned out he is, so we arranged the details."

"Listen to me," she said. "You don't have to do this. If you want to try bribery, I can get the gold from my employer. I won't even have to mention your name."

He shook his head and told her, "I feel safer dealing with my own kind."

"Curse you for a liar and a traitor! You have rat's blood in your veins!"

"What did you expect?" Aeron asked. "You're the one who said I'm just a common thief, with no notion what honor means."

"I didn't truly want to believe that."

"Well, believe this," he said. "Folk like you and me are natural enemies, you killed my friends, and even if none of that was true, I'd sell out you and a hundred like you to save my father. Look, it's your new home."

They marched her onward, through the entrance to Melder's Door.

Even at that hour, when so many of Oeble's rogues were snoring in their beds, the stone-walled common room held a motley assortment of travelers and waiters, and as usual, tiny dragons flitted everywhere. Most everyone, whether human, goblin-kin, or reptile, eyed Miri with curiosity, some with malicious amusement, and none, so far as Aeron could judge, with sympathy.

Smiling, handsomely clad in a red silk shirt and a black suede jerkin laced with scarlet cord, Melder sauntered up to inspect his prize. Miri spat at him, and a dozen of the little wyrms hurtled at her like bees defending a violated hive.

Melder raised a swarthy hand, and the dragons veered off.

"Please," he said to Miri. "It can all be quite pleasant, if you'll only allow it to be."

"I'll kill you for this," she said, "and even if I fail, the Red Hart Guild will avenge me."

"As your own experience demonstrates," Melder said, "your friends had better stick to their forests and mountains. Oeble will eat them alive." He looked at the half-orc. "Why don't you lock her away, then I'll pay you?"

The creature and its fellow kidnappers manhandled Miri across the common room. She struggled every step of the way, but with her hands bound, to no avail. She and her captors disappeared through a doorway.

"I'd like to get paid, too," Aeron said.

"Surely," Melder said. "Vlint?"

A hobgoblin appeared at his elbow with a clinking pigskin purse in hand.

Aeron untied the laces, lifted the flap, and stirred the coins inside with his fingertip, which afforded him a glimpse of the ones at the bottom.

"Thanks," Aeron breathed.

"I realize," Melder said, "that these days you have to be careful about lingering too long in any one place. But will you have a glass of something before you go?"

Aeron smiled a crooked smile and said, "I suppose I might as well celebrate. This was the first plan that's gone off without a hitch since before I robbed the Paer."

Sefris heard voices echoing down the tunnel, and though she couldn't make out the muttered words, instinct warned her she had cause for caution. She cast about and spotted a notch in the wall, containing a steep flight of steps that probably linked that section of the Underways to somebody's cellar. She silently hurried partway up the steps, above the eye level of anyone likely to pass below then crouched motionless in the narrow, unlit space.

Sure enough, two Red Axes tramped by. She recognized them from the time she'd spent among the gang, and assumed they were scouting the tunnels near Melder's Door for the same reason she was. They'd heard the gossip that Aeron sar Randal had visited the inn to sell his former ally to the proprietor.

It seemed unlikely that Aeron was still lingering in the area, but it also seemed inexplicable that he'd made such a conspicuous display of himself in Melder's establishment in the first place. In any case, Sefris didn't know where else to look for him, so there she was.

She crept down the stairs and onward through the darkness, in the opposite direction from Kesk's henchmen. She encountered other ruffians, some of whom eyed her speculatively. But when she returned their stares, making it clear she registered their interest without the slightest flicker of alarm, they allowed her to continue on her way unmolested.

It was difficult to keep track of time underground. Eventually, though, she became convinced she'd been searching for quite a while. Certainly she was retracing her steps through sections of tunnel she'd traversed before. Maybe, she thought, she should return to her sanctuary and consult the arcanaloth after all. Then, some distance ahead, a lanky figure stepped from a doorway. He froze for a moment as if startled to see her, which gave her a decent look at his face. Though the gloom dulled the bright copper of his hair to a nondescript gray, Sefris recognized the man she'd come to find.

She sprinted toward him. She'd tended the wounds she'd received the night before, and though her thigh ached, she was able to run as fast as ever. She snatched a chakram from her pocket and broke stride for the split second required to fling it spinning ahead of her, skimming low to maim Aeron's leg.

The ring flew as true as any cast she'd ever made. Unfortunately, however, it was a long throw, which gave Aeron time to dodge. He scrambled onto the first riser of a staircase and on up out of sight.

When she followed him onto the steps, she realized from the wan trace of sunlight leaking down from overhead that they connected the tunnel with the outdoors. If Aeron reached the top, it might give him the chance to flee in more than one direction, or lose himself in a crowd. Resolved to catch him while he was still inside the stairwell, she ran even harder.

From above her came a sudden clatter. She was still peering, trying to figure out what the sound meant, when her sandal landed on something small, hard, and round. The objects rolled, and despite all her training, threw her off balance. She fell, caught herself, and at the same time realized that Aeron had tossed a quantity of marbles bouncing down the steps.

A good trick, but the fall hadn't injured her, nor delayed her for more than an instant. She could still catch him. She raced on.

As she neared the top of the steps, the daylight dazzled her. She squinted against it, but still missed seeing the cord her quarry had stretched at ankle level. She tripped and fell a second time.

Her wounded leg throbbed, and she suspected she'd torn open the cut. He still hadn't stopped her, though, nor saved himself. He'd simply annoyed her, which meant it was going to be even more satisfying to hurt him.

She scrambled up into a little unpaved cul-de-sac. Towers rose around her, with Rainspans linking the upper stories. To her right, a door slammed. She dashed to it and grabbed the black wrought iron handle. It turned, the latch disengaged, but the panel wouldn't push open. She had to kick it twice to dislodge the wooden wedge her quarry had used to jam it shut.

Judging by the look and stink of the interior, the spire was another of Oeble's squalid tenements, with hordes of paupers living, breeding, and dying in its tiny rooms. Aeron's footsteps thudded on the stairs zigzagging away into shadow overhead. Sefris raced after him.

She thought he'd bolt out onto one of the elevated bridges, but he surprised her. He ran all the way to the top floor, then scrambled up a ladder and through a trapdoor.

She expected him to lie in wait by the hatch, poised to knife her, and when she swarmed up the ladder, she was ready to defend herself. It wasn't necessary. What he'd actually done was retreat to the very edge of the square, flat roof, then hop up on the low parapet that ran along it.

It had to be another trick, didn't it? She looked at him and all around, but couldn't spot the hidden threat.

"You're fine," he panted. "I'm the one who's in danger. If I lose my balance, if anything jostles me, I'll fall to my death."

"What does this mean?" she asked.

"You don't think I just happened to be carrying a bag of marbles, a trip cord, and a wedge around with me, do you?" he replied with a grin. "I wanted to talk to you, so I let people see me in the Door. I figured you'd hear about it and come sniffing around. I spotted you, let you do the same to me, then used my tricks to slow you down while you chased me. I couldn't let you catch up until I led you here. You won't throw a spell or one of those rings at me now, will you?"

"What I will do is take hold of you and pull you down," she said, then started forward.

"Don't try!" Aeron called. "I'll jump, and you'll never find out where I hid The Black Bouquet."

She didn't believe him, but she wasn't absolutely sure she was right, and thus she hesitated. Maybe it would be safer to hear him out first, and call his bluff later if need be. It wasn't as if he could evade her. He'd backed himself into a corner.

"I don't think you want to die and leave your father in the tanarukk's hands," said Sefris.

"You're right, but I know I can't save him by myself-or working with Miri, for that matter. That's why I sold her to Melder."

Sefris frowned, trying to follow his train of thought.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "What did betraying Miri accomplish?"

"Well, I told people it was to raise the coin to bribe one of the Red Axes, but that's not practical, considering that none of them is any more trustworthy than Kesk himself. I just wanted folk to think it was the reason, so they wouldn't figure out I was getting rid of her to clear the way for you."

"Clear the way for me?"

"Yes. I can't very well work with you and Miri both, considering that you'd both demand the black book in payment, and you're the one I need. You fight better than anyone I've ever seen, and you're a sorceress on top of it. Her talents are nothing compared to yours."

"So you're offering me the Bouquet in exchange for my help in rescuing your father."

"And peace between you and me afterward."

"I agree."

Aeron smiled and said, "Good, except that I don't believe you yet. Maybe it's because I'm such a faithless liar myself, but it strikes me that you might promise anything to lure me into your clutches, with no intention of keeping your word."

"I swear by Shar that I will."

Some deities might object to their worshipers making false vows in their names, but the Lady of Loss wasn't one of them. She wanted her work done by any means necessary. Indeed, she relished treachery and oath-breaking to the extent that she could be said to savor anything in the vile stew that was creation.

"That's wonderful," Aeron said, an ironic edge in his voice, "but even so, I want to ask you something. How did my father hold up under torture?"

"Fairly well," she admitted.

In truth, Nicos had borne up remarkably well. After what he'd suffered, he should have been too cowed to utter a word unbidden, yet instead he'd exposed her identity to the mage with the blackwood cane.

"Remember," Aeron said, "he's old and sick. I'm young, healthy, and my father's son. I could hold out even longer. I could sit on the location of the book until it's too late. Until the cursed thing's destroyed."

She felt a thrill of dismay, and asked, "Destroyed… how?"

"If I told you, it might help you figure out where it is. Just take my word for it. If I don't fetch it from its current hiding place by sunrise tomorrow, that will be the end of it. Your only hope of getting it is for me to hand it over voluntarily."

"I understand," she said, and it was so.

Evidently she did have to play along for the time being, and that was all right. Eventually a moment would come when he no longer held the formulary hostage, and at that moment, she'd repay him in full for all the trouble he'd caused her.

"Good."

Aeron stepped down off the parapet. He was trying to appear confident, and it would have fooled most people, but she could read the tension in his lean frame, the fear that she was going to lunge at him. It made her wish she could.

He said, "Here's what I think we should do…"