City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [61]
“Clearly we need all the information we can get.” Daine paused for a moment. “Do think that it could have simply been a random attack? That we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time? After all, they didn’t ask for anything.”
“I suppose. One the other hand, Monan did seem to recognize Rasial, and I can’t help but wonder if the attack was related to the dinner conversation. Perhaps we were asking too many questions, and someone wanted you dead.”
“Or maybe …” Lei said thoughtfully. “Maybe someone wanted you alive.”
“What do you mean?” Jode said.
“You said it yourself, Jode. You’re the only one they didn’t try to kill, even after you injured your enemy. Perhaps they didn’t expect the rest of us to last as long as we did. Once we were down, the attackers could have teamed up to subdue you.”
“But what would they want with me?” Jode said.
“That is the question,” Lei said.
“So where do we go from here?”
Daine tried to collect his thoughts. “To begin with, you don’t go anywhere alone, especially in High Walls. Let’s talk to Greykell and see what she knows about our attackers. After that … well, we still need to talk to the wind, whatever that means.”
Lei clutched her forehead. “Sovereign Lords! I’d completely forgotten about that. Do you think we’ll have to fight the guard again?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Greykell met them at the Cyran infirmary in Togran Square. The floor of the tent was lined with pallets, and people of all ages were spread out across the floor. The smell of blood and gangrenous flesh was strong in the air, and moans and low cries filled the chamber. Most of the patients were veterans of the war. Some were recovering from physical injuries, but others were victims of magical attacks or the Mourning itself. One man was missing his right arm and leg. It seemed as though his right side had been transformed into wax and then exposed to tremendous heat. A young woman was sitting up and gesturing with her right hand, making the same complex gesture over and over again, but her eyes were vacant and blank. Greykell stood in the back of the tent, looking down at an immobile figure with dead-white skin and lank silver-gray hair—the changeling.
“Good to see you up and about, Daine,” Greykell said, looking over at him. “So far, no signs of life from our friend here. Hulda took another look at him this morning. Unfortunately, it’s hard to tell if he’s just playing possum.”
“I can try to do something about that,” Lei said. Her ability to channel and weave magical energy was limited, but after a good night’s rest she was ready to get back to work.
“Do it,” Daine said.
Lei produced a small disk of polished red marble from her belt pouch. An eye was engraved into the surface, and Daine was reminded of the symbol on the pommel of his borrowed sword. Lei traced the lines of the eye, whispering incantations, and after a moment the eye began to glow in the wake of her touch.
A minute later, she was done. “Shall I?” she asked, looking at Daine. He nodded, and she held the stone above the changeling’s head. She closed her eyes, reaching out to study the surface of the changeling’s mind. Eventually, she opened her eyes again. “Nothing,” she said. “He’s completely empty. There are no thoughts left at all.”
“Keep at it,” Daine said. He turned to Greykell. “Jode told me that you knew the people who attacked us. Can you explain any of this?”
Greykell shook her head. “Not at all. Philan, the fat man—now the fat statue—just the other day he was out in the market telling the children stories of Cyre. Sarris, the woman with the claws, served as a scout under my command. Overzealous, maybe, but I never saw her claws before.”
“Did they know each other?” Jode asked.
“Everyone here knows each other,” Greykell said. “But did they spend much time together? Not that I know of.”
“What about the other twin?” Daine said. “Have you found him?”
“Not yet. But Daine, you’re dealing with a changeling.