He didn’t think now was the time to point out that the planar doorway was hardly defective. It had worked just fine for him.
Andri looked from him to the half-elf and back again, then seemed to come to some decision. He extinguished and sheathed his sword, then unlocked both Greddark’s manacles and the ones the bounty hunter wore. He handed the iron bonds back to d’Medani.
“You’re free to go.”
The half-elf looked puzzled. “With the dwarf, right?”
“No. You are free to go. Alone. The dwarf stays here.”
“But Karrnathi law-”
“You are not in Karrnath. You are in Thrane, and here, the Church is the law.” Greddark had never heard the paladin’s voice sound so hard. “In the absence of clergy, I am the Church. And I am declaring Greddark d’Kundarak innocent of this crime.” Andri’s tone lost some of its edge. “Now, I know you came a long way and will likely forfeit a large fee for not bringing him in. The Church is nothing if not generous. Tell me your fee and I will pay it.”
D’Medani looked as if she’d been slapped. “I don’t want your money, you self-righteous-”
Andri’s sword was out and resting against the base of her throat before she could finish the imprecation.
“You’ll take my gold, or you’ll take my steel. Decide. Now.”
Whatever her personal feelings about Greddark’s guilt, the bounty hunter wasn’t stupid.
“The gold,” she muttered, glaring.
Andri smiled at her. “Wise choice. How much?”
She cast a sidelong glance at Greddark. “Fifty dragons.”
“What?” Greddark exclaimed. For that sort of money, he’d be tempted to turn himself in!
Andri’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. So she was telling the truth. Damn. Helanth must really want him back. Probably so he could have the pleasure of killing Greddark himself.
Andri sheathed his sword again. “Keep an eye on her,” he said to Irulan as he crossed over to his horse and rummaged through a pack. Irulan, who’d had an arrow pointed at d’Medani this whole time, was more than happy to comply.
The paladin returned with a folded piece of paper.
“This letter will allow you to draw fifty platinum dragons from my personal account at any House Kundarak bank, in or out of Thrane, in exchange for your abandonment of the unlawful bounty on Greddark’s head. Do I have your word on that?” He held out his hand.
After a moment, d’Medani reluctantly grasped it. “You have my word.”
“Excellent.” Andri handed the letter over. “I trust you can find your own way out of the city?”
The half-elf grunted in reply. Snatching up her war spikard, she set off the way she’d come, running with an easy stride that ate up ground quickly. In moments, she was out of sight. Irulan kept her arrow trained on her the entire way.
“That’s it?” Greddark asked, not really surprised. “You’re just going to let her go?”
Andri looked over at the shifter. “Irulan?”
She gave him a wicked smile.
“I’m on it,” she said, replacing the arrow in her quiver and turning to lope after the bounty hunter, her gait easily matching that of the half-elf.
As she, too, disappeared from view, Greddark looked at Andri. “Now what?”
Andri shrugged. “Now, we wait.”
Chapter FIFTEEN
Wir, Eyre 4, 998 YK
Irulan tracked the half-elf though the silent streets of Shadukar, the fleeing bounty hunter’s footprints easy to follow in the dust and ash. She caught up to the other woman quickly but stayed back, out of sight. Much as she’d like to put an arrow through one of the little strumpet’s amethyst eyes, she was only here to ensure d’Medani didn’t renege on her agreement with Andri.
True to her word, d’Medani exited the city by the same gate the trio had used to enter it earlier. A black stallion waited for her outside the walls, and she quickly mounted and rode back toward Olath. Irulan watched her go, wondering at the bounty hunter’s easy acquiescence. She didn’t think Greddark had seen the last of the persistent half-elf, but it really wasn’t her problem. Just as long as d’Medani waited until after they’d found their killer, she could drag the dwarf back to Karrnath by his unnaturally short beard, for all Irulan cared. He seemed like a decent enough fellow, but their partnership was one of mutual convenience, nothing more.
When d’Medani was just a speck on the horizon, Irulan lowered her bow and turned to go back the way she had come. As she did so, she noticed the myriad tracks they had left-hoof prints, boot prints, and her own clawed feet. If the bounty hunter did come back, she’d have no problem finding them again. Their tracks would lead her right to them. Her or Quillion.
She could cast a quick spell to make sure she left no trace of her passage back to Andri and the dwarf-something she should have thought to do earlier, though she’d had no reason to suspect they would be followed-but the older tracks would still be there. She had nothing she could use to obscure the tracks herself, but … there. A whispered word revealed the presence of rats-even in a seemingly dead city, the clever scavengers would find a way to survive, and thrive. After a few moments of concentration, she discerned that there were at least a dozen of the sly creatures in the gatehouse alone, and several dozen more spread out in the basements of the ruined buildings nearest the gate. She walked toward the closest of these until she knew her voice could be heard, and then she called out to the rats, chittering at them in their own strange language, cajoling them with promises of fruit and bread if they would come to her aid.
At first, nothing happened. Then the blackened debris in front of her seemed to shift and slide, as if it were collectively heaving itself up to shamble toward her. Irulan felt a moment of fear before she realized it was the rats-hundreds of them, not dozens-heeding her call.
She singled out a large gray one in the front of the teeming mass.
I do not have food enough for all your people, rat-brother.
The rat’s nose twitched, and its red eyes gleamed. The squeaks and chitters, both in front and behind her now, subsided as her chosen envoy replied.
Those who cannot eat will be eaten, wolf-sister. It is the way.
She nodded. It was, indeed.
I travel with three horses, a man, and a dwarf. I need you to erase all evidence of our passing, so that we may not be followed.
The rat regarded her with beady eyes before nodding its head once in a gesture it knew she would recognize.
We have done this for the wolf-brother. We will do this for you.
Wolf-brother?
Quillion.
But if he could teleport, why did he need the rats to hide his tracks? Perhaps, she thought, the spell required a focus his addled mind was no longer truly capable of, and transported him to the gates or the Garden District, instead of to his lair.
Where might I find the wolf-brother? I wish to pay my respects.
The rat clicked its teeth at her.
The wolf-brother sleeps beneath the blue waves and the black ships.
Blue waves and black ships? Was Quillion lairing in the ruined docks down on the Arrow? That hadn’t been one of the places Ostra’s shifters had marked on the maps.
Can you show me?
The clicking became more pronounced. The rat was getting angry.
We do not wish to die.
Apparently, humans weren’t the only things Quillion liked to eat.