City of Torment by Bruce R. Cordell Read Free Book Online Page A

night sky. The last time he’d greeted her, just a few days prior, her cheeks colored, her arms felt too warm, and sensible words deserted her. She fell in behind the cloaked shape, wondering where he was going. It was a ramshackle neighborhood. Did he know someone here? She didn’t like to think of him being familiar with its stench-worn ways. Japheth walked another block until he paused under the sign of a unicorn horn. A single glass window provided a view into a bizarrely decorated interior display. Anusha shuffled closer and identified a shrunken head, heaped candies wrapped in colorful paper, playing cards depicting dragons, smoking accessories, fancifully decorated goblets and tankards, and oddities beyond her knowledge. Japheth entered. She followed, passing through the closing door as if it were mist. Inside she spied a grandfatherly dwarf puffing away on an elaborately carved pipe. The dwarf saw Japheth and launched his spiel, “Got some salvage? I’ll give you a fair price. No? A gift, then, you seek? Or something for yourself. A keepsake! Look around; my inventory is second to none. Don’t be afraid of the mess! Who knows what treasures you’ll find hidden away in dark corners? Those willing to spend a little time come away with real gems.” Japheth raised a hand to silence the dwarf and asked, “Have you any traveler’s dust?” The dwarfs surprised breath covered Anusha’s own. The dwarf darted a glance to the entrance. After a scan of the empty shop, the proprietor gave a slow nod. He said, “I might have a tin. It’ll cost you. Supply has been tight lately.” “Yes, yes, I’m sure. I’ll give you thirty pieces of gold right now. What say you?” The dwarf�s eyes narrowed. He replied, “How do I know I can trust you?” “I am the very soul of discretion. Come�I’ve got gold in my pocket. You’ve got dust to unload. Let’s deal.” When the strange transaction concluded, Japheth tucked a small, dull tin into a fold of his cape. Anusha fell in behind Japheth as he exited the shop. But her mind whirled. Traveler’s dust! Did Japheth walk the crimson road? She hadn’t noticed any of the telltale signs�trembling hands, sometimes slurred speech, and most telling, of course, eyes the color of blood. Anusha heard the substance appeared only a few years ago, but already it was banned in most civilized places because all who used it died, sooner rather than later. The crimson road led inevitably down to a final, bloody sunset. Then again, Japheth was an adept�he was one of the new breed who’d learned the trick of calling upon magic in the Weave’s absence. She’d heard Behroun refer to Japheth as a warlock. Perhaps he could mask the drug’s effect, or hold off its eventual price. Her childish crush on Japheth grew cold. If he walked the crimson road, he was not a man of honor. Honor or not, Japheth led her directly back to Marhana Manor. So convenient; another reminder she dreamed. Which meant Japheth wasn’t really a traveler�she’d merely invented it! Her thoughts were more cogent, more precise than any dream she’d previously experienced, and she kept forgetting what she saw now must all be pure fiction. Her quarry entered by the main gate with his own key. He walked around to the South Wing of the manor, where Behroun conducted his shipping business. A lamp in the main office beckoned. Japheth entered, and Anusha remained his shadow. Her half brother, Behroun, was seated in his white leather chair behind a desk bestrewn with parchment, quills, and small devices useful for plotting nautical routes. Behroun was surprised to see the cloaked man suddenly appear at the edge of his desk. “Japheth! You are quick! I sent a courier at dusk.” The warlock inclined his head. “I have eyes in many places, as you know. If you had merely placed my symbol on your manor door, as I instructed, I would have appeared even sooner.” Behroun shook his head as if in disgust, but said,