Dragon's Reach Page 3
It called to her they way the hills in Talia’s drawings did, with ideas of escape and freedom.
But no one escaped Dockside. She’d once imagined working her way up the ranks of Kiva’s thieves could do it, but getting close to Kiva just tightened the noose. Her dreams of freedom had been traded for an agreement to hand over every cent she stole in exchange for lodging, communal food halls, and the assurance that Talia could stay working somewhere as sheltered as the bakery.
And there was the fact that handing over every cent she stole kept Kiva’s Fangs from chasing her down and killing her.
Kiva kept a running ledger tracking each expense. No one ever brought in enough from their work to outweigh the growth of their debt.
Except Rabbit.
Rabbit had reached legendary status in Dockside by setting up a business trade that made Kiva the legitimate owner of two woodworking shops. The opportunity for him to enjoy the perks of a respectable business owner up on the slope had freed Rabbit and set him up for life outside the city.
Or that was the rumor. No one Sable knew had ever met Rabbit.
The sound of coins clinking caught her attention.
Right. Renwen.
Lord Renwen's motions were stiff and precise as he dropped another stack of coins into a carved wooden box.
Too stiff, really. A dead fish should be limp.
He swept the last pile of bronze nummi into the box, followed by five neat stacks of silver mons. The last coin on the table was a rich yellow, and Sable leaned forward.
Renwen had a gold solidus?
He picked up the coin and ran his thumb over it before dropping it into the box.
She’d only seen two gold coins before, both of which had been on highly guarded display outside the Merchant Guild, proof that the new gold mines in the Tremmen Hills were more than just rumor.
The sun dropped closer to the horizon and Sable shifted on the branch. What exactly what Kiva’s interest in this tedious man? The sooner the man put away his ledger and left for the festival, the better.
She took in his emotionless face with a sinking feeling. What if Renwen didn’t plan on attending the festival tonight? If she was stuck watching this dead fish of a man instead of enjoying the start of the festivities, she’d be hard-pressed not to steal something from him to pay for it.
A silver dish sat on a table near the window looking smug. As though it knew that was an empty threat.
Renwen snapped his box closed.
Finally.
He set down his pipe and stood, carrying the box across the room with a straight back. The wall Renwen approached was full of dark wood shelves, and Sable stretched to see where he put it. Kiva’s order not to steal from Renwen was clear, but it never hurt to know where a man kept his coins. Instead of setting it down on a shelf, he grabbed a small statue of Amah, goddess of light, and pulled.
The entire shelf swung out like a door. Sable shimmied farther forward to see behind it. The thinning branch bent and rustled, dropping the leaves outside his window.
“Amah hide me,” she breathed. But Lord Renwen didn’t turn before stepping around the shelf. Past him, Sable caught a glimpse of a small closet. She pushed a thin sprig of leaves out of her way. The closet shelves held boxes and pouches. He set down the coins and picked up a black ledger the same size as the one he’d been writing in for hours. It was even tied with an identical black cord.
He had two ledgers?
Which one did Kiva want?
She glanced back at Renwen’s desk and froze.
A woman stood in the open office door, peering into the room.
Sable barely breathed. If the woman looked out the window, she’d see Sable’s face clear as day. And it would take longer to climb out of this tree than for someone to rush out into the yard and catch her. Sable pulled back slowly, letting the leaves inch back in front of her face, berating herself for being so careless.
The woman was tall and slender and wore a silk dress that was probably worth more than anything in Renwen’s room, except his gold solidus. The lavender bodice deepened to a dark, rich purple as it flowed down the skirt. And if the silk itself wasn’t expensive enough, the dragons embroidered near the bottom of the skirt, winding around each other and reaching up amidst swirls and flowers, made it clear the dress was Kalesh.
Her face was painted to a smooth, flawless finish. Spikes of glittering hairpins held her honey-colored hair in an elaborate pile on her head. Between the Kalesh dress and the sparkles in her hair, everything about her declared “merchant’s daughter” in a haughty, vapid voice.
She stepped into the office, one delicate hand pressed to her lips to keep from laughing. The open bookshelf hid Renwen from her sight, so she glided closer.
“Hiding in a secret room?” she teased.
Renwen started at her voice, then quickly slid the second ledger behind a box.
He rolled his shoulder quickly, then settled them down into a more casual position and stepped out to face her. “Secret rooms are among my favorite places, my dear Ingred.” He flashed her a smile that, aside from being in his pale, dead-fish face, was almost charming. His entire posture was relaxed, and without a trace of his former stiffness, Renwen grabbed her waist and swung her into the closet with him, planting a kiss on her lips.
Sable stared him for a moment, shocked by the change, before taking advantage of their distraction to scoot farther back into the tree. She paused when she could just make them out through the leaves.
So, Lady Ingred and Lord Renwen were more than a rumor. Kiva would be interested in that information.
Ingred’s wealth made Renwen look like a pauper putting on airs. Her father, Lord Trelles, was the leader of the Merchant Guild, and possibly the wealthiest man in the city. Ingred was known for two things: spending obscene amounts of money in the shops, and being utterly spoiled.
She was a completely useless person.
Ingred pushed away from Renwen, a smile playing on her lips. “Don’t muss me. I just stopped by for a quick visit.” Her voice wafted out the open window. “This is such a small secret room. You can’t tell me you’re scared of someone stealing things from such a little stash.”
“This little stash holds more wealth than whole districts in the city,” he said mildly.
She waved her hand at him. “Those districts should be leveled and used for something better. Like new abbeys or shops. I’m just saying that your secret room is smaller than I’d expected.”
Renwen stood in the closet doorway with his back to Sable, a bit of his former stiffness returning. “Had you grown up in any house but your father’s, you might see it differently.”
“I wasn’t insulting you, Renny. I think it’s quaint.” She stepped farther into the closet. “They sentenced the thief who stole from my aunt to the slave galleys this morning,” she said in an off-handed way.
“They caught him this quickly?”
Ingred waved a hand. “They sentenced someone who matched his description. Someone dirty. It’s so hard to tell them all apart. I don’t see why they don’t just hang them all and get it over with.”
She opened a wide, ornate chest. Renwen took the chance to roll his shoulders again and clasp his hands behind his back before leaning on the closet doorframe. Sable raised an eyebrow at the effort he was expending to appear casual.
“Look at all the pretty things!” Lady Ingred said. “How delicate.” She turned and held up a tiny, silver star pendant hanging from the thin chain. “This is lovely.”
His hands clenched. “That was my wife’s.” His voice stayed relaxed, but the words grabbed Sable’s attention. For the first time, there was a warm pressure to them. The substantial feel of truth.
Ingred paused. “Did she wear it often?”
“Before she fell ill, she wore it almost continually.”
Ingred considered the necklace. “Would you like to see it on me?”
He reached out and took it from her hand. “You deserve something better than this.” His voice sounded the same, but Sable felt the cold slice of a lie.
A flicker of irritation crossed Ingred’s brow.
“I do have something else for you,” he said smoothly. “Something more fitting to your station.”
He dropped the necklace into his pocket and stepped past her, reaching into the chest. She fixed him with a pout, but he ignored her and pulled out a chain with a large, green emerald.
The lady’s eyebrows rose as she touched the stone with a gloved hand. “You could give me both.”
Renwen opened the necklace and waited for her to turn around. “I wouldn’t insult you with another woman’s jewelry.” His words had fallen back into the feelingless half-truths of common conversation.
Ingred turned her back to him. “And a common woman at that.”
Renwen’s hands twitched, but he fastened the chain around her neck.
She spun and flashed him a smile. “How does it look?”
“It’s almost as beautiful as you.” He took her hand and led her across the room. “Shall we call for wine?” Dropping into a chair with an ease Sable wouldn’t have imagined him capable of, he pulled Ingred down onto his lap.
“I wish I could, Renny.” She giggled. “It’s been such a trying day. Piddy, my secretary, is pregnant! I thought she was just getting fat, but now I find she’s become completely useless! I had to let her go, of course. The nerve of her destroying her life without a thought to my inconvenience.”
“Didn’t she get married last winter?” Renwen asked.
“Yes, but she swore to me it wouldn’t affect her work. And now this!” Ingred crossed her arms. “It’s dreadful trying to find good help. Just dreadful.”
“You could hire a male secretary. No risk of him becoming pregnant.”
“A man?” Ingred asked, shocked. “In my dressing room? Planning my days? Renny, you say the most scandalous things!”
He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were so close to your secretary. I only see mine once in the morning.”
“Piddy has been by my side for two years.”
Renwen gave a faint smile. “Surprising she found a way to get with child then.”
She swatted his arm. “She stopped living at our house when she got married. I should have known it would end in disaster.”
“Let’s call for wine,” Renwen suggested again.
Ingred shook her head. “I’ve already stayed too long. I only came to tell you that my father wants to check the Guild ledger. He’ll be coming by tomorrow.”
Sable straightened. Renwen kept the ledger for the Merchant Guild? She glanced back at the book he’d been so painstakingly writing in. That explained Kiva’s interest.
The three Grand Priories were the real power in the region. But the Merchant Guild grew more powerful every year. Over the last decade they’d gone from merely organizing trade in this city to operating trade routes through all the surrounding towns, and gaining a foothold even among the cities of the Northern Lords.
In the two years since Kiva’d obtained his woodworking businesses, he’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to wriggle his way into the Merchant Guild. Having intimate knowledge of each member’s account would give him a lot of leverage to wriggle with.
“I’m perfectly happy to show your father the numbers,” Renwen said. “I have no secrets from him.” The lie sliced into Sable with a cold slash. Renwen pulled Ingred close again. “The only thing I have to hide is that his daughter has access to my house.” He held up a key. “What’s mine is yours, my dear.”
She gave him a coy smile. “Unless it once belonged to your wife.”
His smile broadened, but he didn’t answer the accusation. “Once my loan is approved, it’ll be enough to impress even your father, and we can stop sneaking around.”
She leaned into him. “But the sneaking is fun.”
Sable toyed with the fraying edge of her sleeve as she studied the woman. Maybe it was the sneaking around that was the draw for Ingred. Renwen’s fake charm might be enough to help him rise in the ranks of the Guild, but Lady Ingred couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. Surely she could have her pick of men.
Ingred looked thoughtfully up at him. “Do you really think the new mine will produce gold?”
Sable’s finger paused. Ah. There was the draw. She focused back on Renwen. The man kept the ledger for the Merchant Guild, and had a new gold mine? Maybe she’d underestimated him.
Renwen shrugged casually. “The other two are. No one knows how much gold is in those mountains, but I aim to be among the first to find out.” He squeezed his arms around her waist. “Stay a bit longer.”
“I can’t keep my father waiting.” She stood and twirled away from him, pausing at the door to touch the emerald at her neck. Her eyes lingered on his pocket with the silver necklace. “Thank you.”
Lord Renwen stood and offered her a deep bow. She slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. He fished the necklace out of his pocket, and rubbed his thumb over the silver pendent. A pained expression seeped onto his face, as though it had been waiting just below the surface. For the first time, his expression looked honest. He closed his eyes, and Sable almost felt a twinge of pity.
When he opened his eyes, though, the expression was gone. He straightened his back and strode to the closet. Putting the necklace away, he picked up the second ledger and locked his office door before sitting stiffly back at his desk. He opened both books, carefully copying numbers into the second book and adding more.
Sable watched him work with more interest than before, considering the second ledger. He’d hid it from Ingred, so it must contain something valuable. Something he was hiding from the Merchant Guild’s leader.
Sable tapped her fingers on her leg. If she could deliver that kind of leverage over the Guild to Kiva, it was the sort of thing that might earn her…
Her fingers stilled.
That was Rabbit-level treasure.
An idea took shape, and she sank back against the trunk.
Maybe Lady Ingred wasn’t so useless after all.
The plan was almost too simple. Sable turned it over in her mind, but couldn’t find a flaw. That silver necklace was the key, and the fact Renwen felt sentimental about it would work to her advantage for once.
She needed to see what was on that second ledger.
It was directly against Kiva’s orders, but if this book was as valuable as it seemed, he’d thank her in the end. Yes, this was well worth risking Kiva’s fury.
Sable took a breath, trying to find the wild air from before, but all she smelled was the sour dredgeweed from Renwen’s pipe. Renwen wouldn’t leave for the festival until close to dark, and she should wait an hour past that before she came back. Maybe two.
But a restless hope had formed inside her, and the Red Shield Festival beckoned to her like some glittering, magical creature. She’d get Talia and enjoy the festival for a bit, then come back when Renwen was gone.
Sable’s report to Kiva would be expected long before that, but the idea of earning her way out of Dockside echoed the wild freedom she’d smelled on the wind.
Kiva could wait.
Chapter Three
Sable found her sister mending a tear in her grey dress.
“You’re back early.” Talia tilted her head. “Were you attacked by a tree?”
Sable ran her hand over her head. Two small twigs tumbled to the floor. “Yes. I barely survived.”
“Your braid didn’t.” Talia put aside her sewing and picking up their thinly bristled brush. “Sit.”
Sable sat sideways on the bed and let Talia pull out her braid and begin brushing.
“How did things go?” Talia asked.
The hope Sable had been alternately nurturing and stifling tied her tongue for a moment. “It went well,” she managed.
She folded her hands in her lap and mulled over her plan for the night. What if the ledger wasn’t anything important? But then why would Renwen hide it? How much would Kiva think it was worth? Her mind spun through the same questions over and over as she rubbed one thumb over the other.
“You’re nervous,” Talia said.
Sable stilled her fingers. “I need to finish that job tonight.”
“You’re not done?”
“Just a little more to do,” Sable said absently.
Talia fell silent, her irritation at the vague answer evident by the sharp tug of the brush through Sable’s knots.
Sable winced and looked for a change of subject. “Renwen looks like a dead fish.”
Talia gave a snort of laughter.
“Everything about him is pasty and pale. Yet for some reason, Lady Ingred sneaks into his house to dally with him.”
The brush paused. “You saw her? Is she beautiful?”
Sable shrugged. “In a horrible sort of way. Of course, anyone looks good next to a dead fish. She is currently deeply frustrated by the fact that her personal secretary had the audacity to get pregnant by her new husband.”
“How dare she,” Talia murmured.
“Ingred had to let the woman go, of course, now that she was useless.”
“She fired her for getting pregnant?”
“Ingred sounded disappointed that poor Piddy wasn’t just getting fat.”
“Charming.” Talia was quiet for a moment before brightening. “Of course this means the position is open. Kiva could get you a job there as a jay. He’s supposed to have contacts everywhere in the merchants’ families.”
Sable snorted. “I don’t think I’m spy material.”
“It could be fun, though. Pretending to be rich and living in a house like that.”
Sable shook her head at Talia’s eternal naiveté. “Not fun. Being a jay is the most dangerous job Kiva has.”
“But I bet Ingred’s secretary wears nice dresses.”
Sable pulled her head away from Talia’s hands, ignoring her protest, and looked at her sister. “Did you know three of Kiva’s jays have been hanged since spring?”
Talia paused. “Three?”