The Keeper and The Dragons Ch. 14-15

Chapter 14

Northmarket District, Oldtown

Before he left the vampire's house, Quinn checked his disguise. He'd used it before on previous missions for the troll women. Laborer woodworkers toiled in every part of Oldtown. Dirty canvas trousers, a coarse faded wool shirt and a scarlet kerchief around his neck that advertised his membership in the woodworker's guild. He slung his tool bag over one shoulder and left by way of the servant's entrance, like any other tradesman.

Outside, he found the narrow alleyway swarming with beings, many of them children working alongside adults. There were no child labor laws in Oldtown. He paused, attuning himself to the rhythm of life here. His face had a slight smile, but his constantly moving eyes were sharply alert. Klzyx and little Clover were sitting off to one side, placed where they could keep an eye out for him. The little goblin was demonstrating a complicated finger exercise using six round pebbles. Designed to keep the fingers strong and flexible, he had obviously mastered the advanced katas because the pebbles appeared to flow around his nimble fingers in a fascinating blur.

"I'm impressed my friend, I was never able to get the God's Greeting down and here you are doing it like it was as simple as falling off a wagon."

Klzyx's hairy ears stuck straight up with embarrassed pleasure. Praise in his life was rare.

"Thank you, master." He frowned at the little female. "She does not practice enough. You must practice all the time. As Mr. Whiskers says:"

"Competence is the only thing that will save you from the renderers vats," the three parroted the saying together and grinned at each other.'

"We are off, my friends. Let us wander a bit. I am looking for any beings associated with Master Silverbirch. Do you have any idea where I should start looking?"

The two youngsters nodded enthusiastically. As he followed the two young ones who led him through a maze of narrow streets and alleyways, Quinn reminded himself again of the serious weaknesses that left him open to manipulation. Children. Children of all species. And to a lesser extent, females. He couldn't bear to pass by any situation where harm could come to one. Over the years, that had more than once risen up to bite him. Afghanistan was a case in point. But the need to make amends drove him, so he compensated with awareness and tried to protect himself from his overactive empathy as best he could.

He didn't have the luxury of a lot of time; he had a bad feeling that every minute he spent in Oldtown left two little girls in Emory vulnerable. Not only that, but the Troll Women didn't get involved unless the situation was dire. His plan was to make the power players come to him. Oldtown was too vast to mount any sort of search. He briefly wondered where Wraith was laired up. He remembered she was adept at purposely varying her behavior patterns. Finding her would be challenging, but first, he had the damn scroll to find.

Quinn and his two shadows were snacking on some skewers of spicy beef and peppers from one of the many food stalls in Northmarket, when Klzyx pointed his chin toward a trio of well-born half-blood wood-elves swaggering toward them.                            

"That one, master," he whispered. "The yellow-haired Asrai half-blood."

"Stay here, young Klzyx. I'm going to stir up some trouble."

Quinn wandered close to the three elves. The alpha male, tall and blond, was otherworldly handsome. Given his fine wool tunic, he had high status. He was watching at the frenetic buying and selling with a curled lip.

"Vermin. Can't see how you stand to be around them."

"I agree. I feel soiled by breathing the same air," lisped one of his companions.

The blond, green-eyed female was a bodyguard, judging from how she scanned the environment. She sang out, "They have their uses. You need to get out of your father's counting-house more often and come down to the real world. This is where your father makes his coins. Take that scowl off your face. No need to attract attention. Predators lurk here."

Shock crossed the alpha's handsome features when two cheerfully chattering young female dwarfs accidentally bumped into him. His hand moved in a blur as he grabbed the nearest and slapped her for her impudence. The force of the slap knocked her down. Her bulbous nose started to bleed profusely. He grabbed the other small female and slapped her as well. She wailed, her eyes showing white all around.

The elf smiled. Quinn could read his thoughts from the expressions that flitted across his face. The slap hadn't satisfied his ire. He was thinking about ending the little female. No one would care.

"I do like it when they squeal," he grinned to his companion.

The bodyguard interrupted, "Master, we need to stay unnoticed. Let her go. It is not safe here."

"You worry too much. No one dare harm me.'

Quinn smiled. Just what he needed to attract a bit of attention. Venting the low-key irritation of having his day ruined was a pleasant bonus.

He moved. A quick step. A grip like a vice on the soft tissue just above the half-blood's collarbone. Squeezed deep. Turned him. Snapped a short, powerful punch to the elf's shoulder. The wood-elf shrieked as his clavicle broke.

The young dwarf female tore herself free and grabbed her friend's hand, and the pair ran, looking fearfully over their shoulder to make sure the elves weren't following.

The elf's companions blurred into action.

Quinn chided himself for jumping to conclusions. There were two bodyguards. He was important.

Better yet.

The male held a razor-sharp bronze fighting knife. His face was calm, utterly confident. He lunged, swift and sure, as he had undoubtedly done many times, but somehow he missed. Quinn's left elbow smashed into the bridge of his nose while his right seized the wrist, twisted and dislocated his elbow.

The female bodyguard had skills as well. Elves, even half-bloods, were, by nature, superb warriors. Her initial moves were slippery smooth. A perfect response to a normal attack. In nanoseconds, her dagger was out and slicing toward Quinn's neck.

Only he wasn't there. Quinn slid aside just as the dagger flashed past his face, seized her wrist, twisted and plucked her dagger out of her hand. He slid behind her and gently pressed the tip under her right eye.

"Calm yourself," he sang softly into her ear, "or I'll ruin your pretty face."

She froze. To her credit, she wasn't afraid. He could sense the tension vibrating in her body; no doubt she was waiting for the opportunity that her experience told her was sure to come.

"What is your name, warrior?"

"Metis the Blade."

"And the other?" Quinn pointed to her companion, cradling his arm.

"He calls himself Caylon the Green."

"Well met, Mistress Blade. I'm going to let you loose; even give you back your dagger. Get your employer back to his den. He's not injured that badly. I'm sorry to see your talents wasted working for rodents like this one."

He turned her loose. She turned to face him, tense and ready to lash out. Her eyes ran across his scarred face and the ice in his green eyes. Caution shuttered her glare. She slowly, deliberately, relaxed her stance.

Her eyes downcast, she murmured, "I thank you for the gift of my eye, Master."

"You are welcome, Mistress."

Quinn casually slapped the high-born lordling. "Hoy there, rodent. Do you know what lesson the rich and powerful need to remember?"

The wounded half-blood looked at Quinn with fearful incomprehension.

"Karma always balances her scales."

Quinn handed the blade back to the female, shot a dismissive glance at the moaning males, and disappeared into the gathering crowd of beings.

The punishment for the lordling was more than physical pain; elves were vain about their physical perfection. Until the young dandy healed, his siblings would regard him as flawed, embarrassingly ugly. As a bonus, for the rest of his years the young half-blood will lose the feeling of invulnerability he has had since birth. Fear would nestle in the back of his mind. Administering this simple, satisfying justice brightened the day. The icing on the cake was someone was sure to vow vengeance for such an insult.

Quinn walked on. His two young companions now watched him owl eyed, probably expecting him to explode in violence again. He didn't know how to respond in a way that would make them believe that he wasn't a danger to them so he said nothing. On the streets of Oldtown actions speak truth---words often lie.

His next stop was the healer who served Northmarket's medical needs. The clinic was like any other clinic Quinn had been in except this clinic was owned by an exotically beautiful halfling with strawberry blond hair and catlike amber eyes.

He ushered his two young companions in.

"Greetings, Lachlan, I see you brought new friends for me to meet." Edie was a tall Asrai-halfling with strawberry blond hair and calm amber eyes. Quinn thought her persona was like every nurse he'd ever met, mundane or magical, warmly sympathetic overlaid with a large dose of cynicism.

Rex, a big pure white malamute who was the office greeter, caught his scent and with tail wagging came close to his side for some pets. He next moved to the young ones who regarded him with nervous eyes. They were more familiar with cats. Feral cats abounded in Oldtown's byways, dogs were rare and usually ran in packs. He licked Clover's cheek and she giggled.

"Well met, Edie. Thought I'd drop by and say hello."

"Are those coffee beans that I smell?"

"Yep, thought you might like some." He opened his pack and took out a bag of Starbucks French roast beans along with a small sack of medicinal herbs from Anna and set them down on the counter.

"Did the amazons stop by?"

"Yes, they did. I went and tended to their sister. That was one sick woman but she will recover providing she doesn't get lung fever."

"I put some antibiotics in the bag along with some healing potions Anna blended."

"Good call on the grass snake venom. It is a rare poison. How did you know to recognize it?"

"Oh, you run into things here and there." He said vaguely. "Have you heard of any other similar cases recently?"

"What are you up to, Lachlan. That venom is an assassin's weapon. Now that I think on it, a very specific assassin. Is she back?"

"Yes, it appears so," he said regretfully. "Anyway, I brought two friends of mine to meet you. They are a couple of Mr. Whisker's minions."

He turned to the two youngsters. "If you ever get in trouble, come to my friend Edie, she will help you. Understand?'

Klzyx looked searchingly at the Healer then up at Quinn. He nodded. "Yes master, we hear and obey."

"Very well. Edie I will try to stop by before I leave." He gave the big malamute a final pet and ushered his two companions out.

Chapter 15

Eastmarket District Oldtown

The female goblin, whose name was Goldeneyes, sat on her office balcony that overlooked the north entrance to the maze of tunnels that made up the Desolate. The abandoned tunnels of the salt mine beneath the city were the first stop for poverty-stricken refugees escaping from the other realms with only the clothes on their backs. Oldtown had no social safety net. You fought with tooth and claw to survive, or you perished. Her foremothers had done just that—fought, bled, and died so she and her sisters could escape that underground hell and have a good life. Sitting there, sipping tea from a penthouse in Eastmarket and looking down on the entrance was a daily remembrance of their sacrifice. The view also served as a cautionary reminder of where they would end up if she made a misstep.

The events of the last two days threatened just that.

She took a sip of herbal tea and grimaced at the earthy taste of Valerian Root her servant had added. The herb was a mild soporific. She did not dare use anything stronger to the blend to soothe the constant ache in her spine, the result of a long-ago gang skirmish.

Although she had despised and hated the fat toad, this day she missed the Leprechaun. His death elevated her clan to be the ones responsible for carrying out Ogden Silverbirch's plans. He was the master of the Carter's Guild and leader of the syndicate maneuvering for control of the city. Her challenge was that Silverbirch was stupidly arrogant, with a history of volatility when he didn't get what he wanted. If her clan threatened his ambitions, they would be instantly discarded and probably eliminated root and branch. He played his cards so close to his vest, so she had no idea what his plans for an end game were. This was what kept her up at night. She desperately needed a Plan B in case of his failure—without one, the clan would be the scapegoats.

And now she had the problem of her stupidly greedy niece.

Her mouth firmed. No need to put things off. Unpleasant tasks were best faced and dealt with.

"Summon my sisters," she said to her chief bodyguard.

The windows of the inquisition room were shrouded with heavy room darkening drapes. The senior Six of the clan's sept-siblings knelt around a white circle etched in the concrete floor. All were female, males did not rise to leadership roles in a goblin clan. A small female sat bound hand and foot on a stool in the center of the circle. The female named Aqui had once been a high-status sister of those who now stared implacably at her. Urine seeped from underneath the coarse canvas dress she wore. She well knew what was in store for her.

"Let us begin." Goldeneyes' voice shifted to solemn. She raised her hands, closed her eyes and sang out, "We live and die for our clan."

The sisters stiffened and intoned after her, "We live and die for our clan." The clan meeting ritual was complete. She motioned and the six females knelt.

She turned to the prisoner. "I hear tales of a disturbance in the Shambles recently."

Her niece looked up, her face pale, her limbs trembling. She appeared to gather herself and raised her chin defiantly.

"Yes, there was, Aunt. I set the Ebonflayers to do some slave-taking there. They ran into an unknown force. I am investigating the incident, or I was until your guards seized me."

"Aqui, the Ebonflayers are were-hyenas. I wasn't aware the Clan retained any of the Kin as slave-takers." Goldeneyes' look was unreadable. "No matter. We can soon have the chain of events in our grasp. There are always watchers in Oldtown. We will soon find who destroyed your 'agents. Tell me, where is the Artifact that was entrusted to your care?"

She watched as the knowledge dawned in her niece's mind that the entire tale was known. Her niece looked to the right and into the triumphant eyes of her sister.

Her rival.

"You bitch," she said venomously.

"SILENCE. You were ever a greedy kit. I have lauded your ambition, but stupidly in these times cannot be borne. Your actions have endangered the Clan. I will strike your name from the rolls of our ancestors if it is the last thing I do."

Her voice rose in pitch at the last as she fell into the uncontrollable rage that was endemic among goblin-kind.

"My sisters, the Prince entrusted the ripper into our care. Aqui was to watch it and guard the Daoine. Instead, she took part in his disgusting experiments. Her actions have attracted attention to us at the worst possible time. What is worse, she lost the artifact. Now, the street gossip tells of a powerful witch and a shifter enforcer wandering about investigating her actions."

She has endangered the clan. The penalty is death.

She turned and made a small signal. Instantly, her orc chief guard drew his curved sword and struck off her niece's head.

"Take her body to the kitchens. She can make amends to the clan by adding her meat to the stewpot."

As two slaves hauled the corpse away, Goldeneyes dismissed the council, returned to her office, and paced, trying to burn off the adrenaline-fueled anger. She needed a cool head to adjust her plans. Her stupid niece's little sideline with the Daoine now had the very real potential to put a slave torc around all their necks—and that was the best-case scenario.

She sat down and composed herself. What was done—was done. The artifact was gone and in the hands of the witches. Her task was to recover it. Her stomach clenched. She wished her niece were still alive so she could kill her in a hundred ways more painful than the kindness of a simple beheading.

She called out to her secretary, another of her nieces.

"How fared Wraith?"

"Our watcher sent word that she succeeded in her mission. She wounded one of Vampires amazons, but other than that, the mission was a success. She has gone to ground. No doubt in the maze of slums east of the docks. The Vampire and the Dragon's Daughter have returned to their respective lairs."

Goldeneyes nodded. At least something was going right.

"There is a being to see you, mistress," she added with a moue of disgust. "It insisted. It is one of the mindless."

"Send it in."

Silverbirch's paranoia would never allow him to leave the safety of his headquarters to speak to an underling. Instead, he used the mindless to carry messages back and forth. The mindless were slaves taken from the criminal class, magic-blasted, and then bespelled to be human tape recorders. Empty husks. they were safe messengers—expensive but incorruptible.

Her face remained impassive as her secretary issued in a being who appeared to be a young human woman.

"You may begin," she said.

The creature nodded mechanically and spoke in an exact rendition of Silverbirch's voice: "I have a task for you. An old woodworker dressed in a green tunic assaulted my eldest son in Northmarket today. I want him captured and brought to me."

Message delivered, the creature bowed jerkily and scurried out.

Her secretary still lingered. There was more.

"Don't dawdle, girl. What is it?"

"One of our watchers brought word that he saw the witch and the panther-shifter and some others in Ravens Pub this noon time. Next, I received a report that they now visit the inn across from the Dragon Bank. Also, there is a word from our brother, who watches the bloodsucker that the Shadow Walker is in Oldtown."

Goldeneyes' mouth gaped with shock.

What in the Mother Goddess' name has drawn HIM here of all times? The last time the Shadow Walker crossed the thinning into Oldtown, he spent an afternoon and completely changed the power structure of the city.

She knew if he were here for her, she would see death faster than a kit could blow out a coming-of-age candle. It would be like she never existed. The Clan would be afraid to even mention her name out loud lest they suffer the same fate. The Shadow Walker was one of the beings the Clan's grandmothers used to make the children behave. She shook her head. He was too big to worry about. She had other things to think about, things that were in her control.

Goldeneyes motioned for some more tea. She paced the length of the room, her mind working busily on who to use to capture the being Silverbirch sought. She had no time for this, but she was not in a place where she could refuse the task—not yet, at least. The wood-elf's sponsorship was key to keeping what she had gained in the last few years.

She turned to the waiting secretary. "Go ask my sister, Asaqi if she would attend to me."

Asaqi was her most trusted adviser. When she came, Goldeneyes quickly brought her up to date on the latest issues. "The first priority is to get Silverbirch off our backs. I need a team to search for the woodworker. Use the Pixie's team. Have them put the word out that I offer a substantial reward for his capture. When they get him, have them bring him here."

"Second, I am sure you are aware of the danger that Aqui's greed put us in. We must recover the ripper. Take five of your best and seize the witch and the shifter. They are the last beings to have it. The word is that they are looking for the hex witch that the dragon's daughter brought in from across the thinning. Right now, they are at the Inn across from the bank. I will get you some help to subdue them."