City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [86]
“No one’s tried to kill us for an hour,” Daine said. “Any news on Hugal?”
“You mean Monan? No, not yet, I’m afraid. That’s why I stopped by. I’m still going through my rounds, and I have a few more places to check. Obviously I could use your support, but I also thought it would be a chance for you to meet more of our people.”
Daine shrugged and set down his cards. “Why not? The only reason I haven’t lost all of my money to Pierce is because I didn’t have any to begin with.”
“Come by the militia tent tomorrow night,” Greykell said, slapping Pierce on the shoulder. “We’re always looking for a few good players, and I assure you, my imaginary money is every bit as good as Daine’s.”
“I think I’ll stay here,” Lei said. “There’s an alchemical formula I’ve been trying to perfect, and I want to take another look at the information we have about the stolen shards.”
“Oh, come along,” Greykell said, pulling the smaller woman up and out of her chair. “The splendor of High Walls awaits you!”
After a little more encouragement, Lei agreed to join the expedition. Pierce agreed as well, stringing his massive bow.
“There are still many dangers in this area,” he said. “I believe it is best if we remain together.”
“That’s the spirit!” Greykell said. She studied the markings on Pierce’s torso plating. “Second legion, right? ‘Sword and Steel. We Stand As One.’”
“That was the motto of the legion, yes. Most of the legion was dispersed among the human units. I rarely fought alongside my own kind.”
Greykell smiled and shrugged. “Well, stand as one with us humans.” She turned to the others. “Now let’s go looking for your evil twin.”
Although Cyran refugees made up the vast bulk of the population of High Walls, people of many nationalities had found their way into the district. During the height of the war, High Walls had served as a prison in all but name, a place where people of questionable loyalty could be concentrated into a single location. As they wandered through the maze of alleys surrounding the district, Greykell stopped frequently to check on the various families and clans that lived in the decrepit old buildings. A Lhazaar patriarch insisted that they taste his cold fish stew, and a former siege engineer from Karrnath eagerly discussed the science of fortifications with Lei. Greykell seemed to know everyone in the district, and everyone they met wanted to talk. Time passed in a blur of war stories, local gossip, and health problems. Greykell celebrated the triumphs and sympathized with the misfortunes. Often she was able to solve the problems of the most miserable. One man knew of openings in one of the foundries beneath the city. Another had lost his job because of a bigoted Brelish foreman. It soon became clear why Greykell had asked Lei to come along. She’d picked up on Lei’s skill as an artificer and convinced her to fix broken tools and furniture. She wove a web of connections across the community, and Daine was impressed by her knowledge and charisma.
But there was no sign of Hugal.
“Did you actually expect to find Hugal in there?” Daine said. They’d just emerged from a tenement inhabited by a mixed family of orcs and humans from the Shadow Marches.
“No,” Greykell admitted cheerfully. “But you never know with changelings, do you? I’m just following my usual path. I believe the most likely place to find your friend is up ahead.”
“Do you do this every day?” Lei asked.
“More or less. When I arrived, there was a lot of tension in High Walls. The Karrns hated the Thranes, they both hated the Cyrans, and everyone hated the Lhazaarites. That’s still there, though most of the people conceal it around me to be polite. People don’t change in a day, but progress is being made. The war is over. And more importantly, we’re not Cyrans and Karrns any more. If this is where we’re going to stay, then we need to start thinking of ourselves as the people of Sharn.”
“I don’t see the Brelanders welcoming