City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [135]
“Daine …”
He took a deep breath. “And the irony? Look what it got me. I threw away my inheritance for a land now dead. It seems my father was right after all. Live for the moment. Take your satisfaction from the work, not the master.”
“Daine, enough!” He just looked at her. “Fine. I didn’t know. Obviously I have a lot to learn—and obviously, you’ve been keeping a lot of secrets from us.”
Now it was Daine who looked away.
“But what does this have to do with now? With a life in High Walls?”
“Greykell was right. Cyre is gone, and we need to move on. And I admit it, you deserve better than you’ve received these last few years.”
“I know that.”
“But High Walls still feels as close to home as we’ll find here. I know it’s not what you’re used to, Lei, but a hundred dragons won’t buy a mansion in the clouds.”
Lei sighed but acknowledged the point.
“I don’t know what happens next. I was fighting for a cause, and that cause is gone. I’m a soldier. I’m not some sort of refugee caregiver. I’m not going to start wandering around like Greykell, helping people find work.”
“But …?”
“I don’t know,” Daine said. “Teral was a strong figure in the community; I’m sure there’s going to be chaos with him gone.”
“Greykell can handle it.”
“Possibly. But what about Teral’s other followers? I’m not going to become a caretaker, and I’m not asking you to help. But I am a soldier, and if I can help to protect these people, I will.”
“I was created to protect the people of Cyre,” Pierce rumbled. “I will join you.”
“This wouldn’t be a constant commitment, Lei,” Daine said. “But we’d be there if Greykell and her militia needed help. In the meantime, we look for other work. Look for something to believe in. For a cause worth fighting for.”
Lei pondered for a moment. “Why do I hear Jode when you’re speaking?”
Daine thought about Jode, about the halfling who let a young goblin steal their gold. “Because you know he’d say the same thing.”
“Fine,” Lei said. “But I’m sick of sleeping on moldy, hard pallets. We’ve got a hundred dragons to spend: I expect a good bed.”
“As you wish.”
“And I never want to see a bowl of gruel again.”
“No complaints here.”
“Well then, let’s get back to the Manticore. If we give her some gold, do you suppose Dassi can get some real meat for dinner? After gruel, lizard is next on my list of forbidden foods.”
Lei linked arms with Pierce and Daine, and they walked to the lift that would take them home.
Later that night, Daine excused himself and returned to the dusty room. Rummaging through his pack, he found the leather-wrapped bundle he’d hidden that morning and carefully unwrapped it. Inside there was a small bottle made from thick crystal and sealed with lead. The fluid inside was a luminous blue, and the mark pressed into the seal was as familiar to him as a friend’s face—the Mark of Healing, the mark of Jode.
For a few minutes he sat alone in the dark, holding the bottle and staring into the glow. Finally, he wrapped the bottle up and placed it back in his pack.
“Good night, old friend,” he whispered.
The room was full of shadows. Sunlight streamed through the solitary octagonal window, but this light had no power over the darkness. The shadows pooled in the corners of the room, and inky tendrils drifted across the room, obscuring the intricate sigils carved into the floor.
A woman stood by the window, and the shadows clung to her feet like petulant hounds. Though the room was quite warm, the woman kept her long cloak wrapped closely around her body, and her face was hidden by a deep hood. Silently, she stood by the window and stared at the world below, at the