Kellanved's Reach

The little mage rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, please. Surly has her agents, the Claws, all over that island. If anyone is in danger of having their throat cut, it’s that king.’ He urged the Kartoolian off. ‘Now go on. You have your own resources, do you not? Salvage things – if Surly hasn’t already.’

‘But I—’ Tayschrenn stopped himself; he was alone. That little mage seemed to be able to slip away instantly, or pretend to, in any case. Furious, he turned his face to the night sky, taking a deep breath. Calm yourself. Calm. Anger solves nothing. It is an impediment. ‘Salvage things’, he says? How am I to— He lowered his head, shaking it.

Very well. But if he returns and complains about any step I have taken – that will be it! We will be finished. I will not have him critique my choices.

Chapter 11

Tayschrenn returned to the isle of Nap. Here, in Dariyal, he sought out a certain inn that catered to foreigners. Entering, he spotted the renegade mage at table and sat down opposite him. When the burly, muscular fellow glanced up and saw him there he nearly choked on his wine. ‘Hairlock,’ Tayschrenn greeted him.

‘Tayschrenn,’ the fellow grunted, recovering, and leaning back. ‘What in the name of the Enchantress are you doing here?’

‘Why didn’t you warn us? You were supposed to warn us.’

The mage shrugged his thick, meaty shoulders. ‘Look – when I found out it was too late. And I wasn’t about to go up against Jadeen. That wasn’t the agreement.’

Tayschrenn tapped his fingers to the scarred table. ‘And Calot?’

The fellow shrugged his rounded shoulders once more. ‘Same for him, I suppose.’

‘And where is he?’

Hairlock gulped his wine; Tayschrenn noticed he was sweating now. ‘Best bordello in town, no doubt. Why? It’s over. Our agreements are null and void.’

‘No they aren’t.’

The mage, who was either naturally dark-hued or deeply tanned a rich nut brown, cocked one hairless brow. ‘Bullshit. You’re kiddin’ me. That little ancient …’

Tayschrenn gave a slow serious nod.

‘Really?’ Hairlock shook his head. ‘Thin. Too thin.’

‘Then consider me his representative and honour our agreement.’

‘You?’ The squat mage snorted. He returned his attention to his meal of boiled pork and parsnips, shoved a forkful into his mouth, and chewed. Swallowing, he took up his wine and sipped, eyeing Tayschrenn over the rim. ‘Whatcha gonna do?’ he asked, grinning lopsidedly.

Tayschrenn crossed his arms. ‘Enforce it.’

The mage grunted, finished his wine. He tapped the glass. ‘Proprietor! More wine!’ Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice. ‘Really? Right here? In front of everyone?’

Tayschrenn made a show of raising his eyes to the timber ceiling above, as if to say, Must you bore me so? ‘If necessary,’ he sighed.

A serving girl refilled Hairlock’s glass. He swirled the wine, eyeing Tayschrenn speculatively, then shrugged. ‘So … he’s alive, you say?’

‘Last I saw, yes.’

‘He actually finished Jadeen?’

‘No. They’re both chasing something else.’ Tayschrenn’s gaze drifted aside, and he added distractedly, ‘Something I hope neither discovers.’

The bald mage frowned momentarily at this, then gulped his wine. ‘Well, if he is, then yeah, I’m in – for a while.’

‘Fine.’

‘What’s the plan?’

Tayschrenn uncrossed his arms. ‘We finish what we came here for.’

They found Calot in the best room of the bordello, but as he was not alone they retreated immediately and waited in the salon. Hairlock gulped more wine and Tayschrenn sampled a Kanese fruit liqueur. Calot soon descended, adjusting his shirt and pushing back his hair.

‘Yes?’ he asked, his cherubic face rather bemused, while he perused the choice of wines.

‘Our agreement still stands,’ Tayschrenn said bluntly.

Calot raised one brow. ‘I’d heard Jadeen ate our benefactor.’

‘Not so. Apparently,’ Hairlock growled.

Calot’s brow remained raised. ‘Indeed. When shall we know?’

‘When we know – which will be when we’re done.’

Calot, looking like a young boy, smiled winningly. ‘Excellent.’ He raised a finger. ‘Question. Do we still get paid? Because I have debts. Rather a lot, I’m afraid.’

Tayschrenn sighed. ‘Yes. I’m sure you’ll get paid.’

Calot raised a glass to that.

Outside, Calot, a skinny youth, bundled himself in a thick fur coat while Hairlock, seemingly indifferent to the weather, remained in his leather vest. Tayschrenn wore the same plain dark robes he’d picked up in Malaz, and he asked, ‘Surly?’

‘The dungeons beneath the palace,’ Calot supplied.

‘Do you know the way?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s go.’

‘That’s it?’ Hairlock grumbled as they walked the evening streets of Dariyal. ‘That’s your plan? Go get her?’