darkened blade_ A fallen blade novel - Kelly McCullough Page 0,25
than half a guess, but we had good reason to suspect the Ghostwind was one of . . . Namara’s missing apprentices. There, we had resources that other intelligence services did not.”
Faran’s expression hardened at the Hand’s brief hesitation, just as I felt my own doing. It was clear Chomarr wasn’t used to giving the goddess her proper name, or any respect. I briefly regretted not killing him earlier when it would have made the most sense, but then I put it aside. We had a common enemy, and whatever Chomarr might have been thinking, he’d had the sense or grace to make what finally came out of his mouth sound both proper and respectful.
Chomarr went on, apparently oblivious to the anger his pause had generated. “Your identity was one of the great mysteries, and we weren’t the only ones who wanted to know it. The Son of Heaven had . . . has unusual access to a lot of state secrets. Every government that we had contact with wanted to know who the Ghostwind was. You’re a legend.”
“Ghostwind.” Faran rolled the word out slowly, like she was testing its flavor. “I think I like that.”
“It suits you,” said Siri.
I agreed. “Doubly so. Back in Tien, ghosting is shadowside argot for making someone into a corpse.”
“The killing wind,” whispered Faran. “Yes, I do like it.”
Kelos ducked into a narrow gap between two buildings. “Down this way. I know a place we can lie up till tomorrow night, if it’s currently accessible. An alley-knocker of sorts.”
A half hour later we were climbing down a rough-built ladder into a deep cistern. Wide cracks in the walls of the tank showed why it had been abandoned. Someone had knocked a hole in one wall, and a narrow tunnel descended farther from there. Thirty feet and two light-blocking turns led us into what looked like a natural cave with several tables in it and a low archway leading onward. A crudely lettered sign hung over the arch, marking the entrance of the illegal tavern: The Honest Man.
I had to laugh. Tradition named alley-knockers after the false or mythic, and that one cut deep.
“Where are we?” said Chomarr.
“There’s a layer of limestone underlying the whole city,” said Kelos. “It’s rotten with caves and sinkholes, and it houses much of shadowside Tavan, though it rarely breaks through the harder capstone layer to the surface. There’s been an alley-knocker in this location under one name or another for most of the last hundred years. Every so often the city guard rousts out the current version and plugs up the main entrance, but it’s such a handy spot that it always gets re-excavated after a while.”
The main room of the tavern was surprisingly well lit, and more than half-full, but we didn’t stay there long. An unpleasantly large chunk of our remaining cash bought us private use of a side cave for a night and a day. We could have gotten a cheaper room if we hadn’t wanted one of the three that had its own rabbit run to the outside world—a kick panel that opened a slide into the sewers, and the cheapest of the trio because of it.
The mole-faced fellow who showed it to us had said, “It’ll get you out, but it won’t be a bit of fun, and no doubts. There’s a drop at the end, but you land in a deep pool, so that’s less a problem than the smell you’ll be trailing when you eventually crawl out at t’ far end.”
Kelos dropped into a chair across the table from Chomarr. “So, what can you tell us about current security arrangements at Heaven’s Reach?”
“I don’t think . . .” Chomarr began heatedly, but then trailed off while his Storm’s wings darkened with agitation. He took a deep breath. “Sorry. It’s going to take me a while to get used to the idea of working with you people, instead of against you.”
Chomarr tried again. “Even then, I’m not sure how much help I can be. After you marked him, the Son started changing everything around in the heart of the temple precinct, and he mostly kept the Hand out of the loop. That’s only gotten more true with the passing days. I haven’t been past the outermost ring of the precinct in almost a year, and neither has any other member of the Hand save only the Signet and her predecessors.”
“None of whom are available for discussion,” said Kelos sourly.