Drawn Blades by Kelly McCullough Read Free Book Online Page B

into my mind.
I think it was actually a joke. She’s come such a very long way from the place where we found her.
    She has indeed,
I silently replied.
    When I’d first encountered Faran she was not yet sixteen and making her living as an eavesman—or private spy—listening at windows for the highest bidder along with lifting state secrets and the occasional precious bauble. It was a job that suited her talents and the training she’d received at Namara’s temple before the fall, and she had grown quite wealthy doing it. But it hadn’t leant itself to trust or humor, or any of the softer emotions.
    In the first days after the fall she’d spent so much of herself on simply surviving when every hand had turned against all of our kind, that most of the light had been squeezed out of her soul. Seeing it come back, and—more—helping with that process, made it much easier to deal with the aggravations inherent in dealing with a girl who’d had to mostly raise herself as she tried to figure out how to become a woman. Not easy by any measure, but easier.
    “No, my young monster,” I said to Faran, “you hadn’t mentioned that. But I figured it must give you some pleasure considering how very often you do it.”
    Faran laughed quietly. “And that’s a point to you. Now, shall we retrieve your swords and get on our way?”
    I nodded. Slipping past the Elite and a contingent of Crown Guard is no easy thing, even for a pair of fully shrouded Blades. Not under normal circumstances, at any rate. But Shang would make for a most excellent distraction.
    “Why don’t you circle around to the northeast corner, while I go down the southeast,” I said.
    “Or you could stay right where you are for five minutes and I’ll bring the swords to you.” The voice that spoke on the breeze was female, gruff, and brim full of vinegar.
    It belonged to Kaelin Fei, Tien’s chief of police corruption, and the city’s main interface between shadowside and sunside. As head of the watch’s silent branch, it was her job to make sure that crime happened quietly and with a minimum of unnecessary bloodshed.
    Back in my shadow jack days I’d worked for her from time to time. In the years since, we had become friends, which is why I barely blinked at her voice speaking out of thin air. Well, thick air, really. The message came via her familiar, Scheroc, an air-spirit. Faran and I were among the tiny number of people who knew Fei was an unfaced mage—the only kind Tien had in its city watch.
    Historically, the Zhani aristocracy were very suspicious of mages holding any kind of authority, a fact that had greatly complicated my efforts to help Maylien to her rightful place on the throne. To say nothing of how much it was going to complicate her tenure now that she’d taken possession of that royal chair. Fei’s familiar spirit brushed invisibly across my cheek by way of greeting, then flitted off to tell her that it had achieved its mission. The creature was sweet, if nowhere near as smart as one of the higher elementals like Triss or Shang.
    A few minutes later Fei’s scarred face popped up over the edge of the tank. “You really don’t need to go all dramatic and skulky for this one, Aral.”
    Faran laughed aloud. “But it’s so funny when he does. You should have seen the look on his face when Scheroc gave us the whisper. His whole plan to outsmart and outsneak that crowd over there went up in smoke.” She poked me in the ribs. “I half think you were disappointed at losing a chance to add another caper to the Kingslayer legend.”
    “That does sound like our Aral,” Fei said as she finished her climb. “All dark and drama all the time.”
    “If there was no need for drama,” I grumbled, “why did you send for Faran to come rescue me earlier?”
    Fei snorted. “Because this is Tien and nothing is simple. There’s no question that the Elite would cheerfully kick you off a ledge into a fire if they thought word of it wouldn’t