The Yellow silk r-4 Read online

  Brin screamed again and this time he whirled around, one hand flicking out. Tycho caught the flash of a knife streaking toward him before he could duck or even flinch — and suddenly he was playing alone as the elemental collapsed in a rushing cascade and the floodwaters began to drain away.

  He turned. His bow froze on the strings of his strilling. Veseene hung in Laera's arms, her faded blue eyes still wide, her mouth still open, her expression still exalted.

  Brin's knife stuck out of her skull, embedded up to its hilt just behind her left temple.

  Laera stared at Veseene then up at him, and a horrible high whimper shivered out of the young woman's throat as she sank to the ground, Veseene's body clutched to her. Li was calling something from the rooftop of the Eel. Tycho couldn't really hear him. The blood in his ears was rushing too loud. His strilling fell from his hand and slid down to hang at his side. His bow clattered to the tabletop and splashed into the receding water below. He turned back around. Slowly.

  Brin still stood on the broken roof of the shelter, one-eyed gaze glittering in the magelight. The halfling looked around at the destruction of the flood, at the bodies of pigs that hadn't managed to swim away, at the bodies of the men killed fighting. He smiled. Savagely. "You stupid dock rat!" he howled. "You want me? You want me? " He pounded a hand against his chest. "You can't take me! You killed Yu Mao-I killed Veseene. And that's just a start!"

  He leaped down from the shelter into water that was now barely waist deep on him and splashed toward the table. His eye shone with madness. "You're going to wish-"

  Music, magic, and rage twisted together inside Tycho's heart and he sang. Sound buffeted Brin and sent ripples across the water all around him. The halfling staggered, sloshing sideways. His gaze met Tycho's and he staggered on. "You're going to wish," he continued, "that you had never met me. That you had never met hen" His head jerked at Veseene. "No one beats me!" He pounded his chest again. "I beat them. Just like I beat you. Like I beat the curse of Sowl" His hands slapped the surface of the water, splashing Tycho. "Not even the sea can take me! Not a pig around but I'm still alive. I outsmarted the-"

  Tycho blasted him again. This time the surface of the water jumped and when Brin looked up, blood was oozing out of his nose. He stared at Tycho. "Is that the best you can do?" He surged forward through the water.

  New songs come where you learn them. Veseene's words.

  Tycho tipped his head back and drew a deep breath, focusing his mind, focusing his magic-focusing his song. He looked down at Brin and sang a new song. New to him at least. Veseene had been a teacher to the end.

  A chill voice answered his song. It wasn't the deep voice that Veseene had commanded, but it didn't need to be. The water behind Brin frothed and surged. The halfling spun around, staring, as an elemental no larger than he was reared up out of the darkness, seized him with liquid limbs, and swept him down into cold seawater. Brin let out a squealing scream-a scream that ended in an explosion of bubbles. Tycho leaned out, watching Brin's struggles and singing until no more bubbles came up.

  CHAPTER 16

  "Tycho? " The bard looked up as Li climbed down from the roof of the Eel. Li's back was torn and bloody. There were bruises across his face, and he limped as he waded across the water-logged sty. He wore his own coat again. Tycho couldn't imagine it would smell very good after being wrapped around Yu Mao's filthy body, but then he probably didn't smell very good himself.

  Li's dao had landed blade-first in the mud. He wrenched it free in passing, washing off the muck by the simple expedient of swishing it through the last of the floodwater. His scabbard was floating under the table. Tycho swung down, grabbed it, and handed it to him. The Shou shook the water out of it and shoved the dao in. "That'll rust," Tycho pointed out.

  "I'll clean it later. We should go." Li stared at Brin's pale, wet corpse.

  Tycho nodded and turned back to the table.

  Laera still knelt atop it, her arms wrapped around Ve-seene. Tycho took the body from her gently, propping Veseene upright as he closed her staring eyes and eased Brin's knife from her head. He looked away as it came free and hurled it as far from him as he could.

  There was a ripping sound. When he looked back, Laera was binding a sleeve from her shirt around Veseene's head, hiding the wound. He smiled at her and lifted Veseene awkwardly in his arms.

  "Do you want me to carry her?" Li offered.

  "No." He turned and took a last look around then followed Li and Laera through what remained of the sty's rail fence.

  On the other side, Mosi Anu was struggling to his feet, water running in streams from his robes. He glared at them and started to say something. "Don't," said Li. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of rags. No, Tycho realized, not rags. The remains of the Yellow Silk of Kuang. Still fine fabric, still an extraordinary yellow, but no longer glowing. If he were to hold the scraps, Tycho suspected, he would feel only cool, damp silk instead of the warm energy he had felt before. Mosi looked at the scraps and frowned-then snorted.

  "Ruined," he said dourly. He stepped back and shook out his cloak, swirling the wet cloth around him. He vanished in a puff of smoke that smelled of dung fires and wet wool. The magelights hanging over the alley winked out as well, leaving only the rising moon to light the shadows.

  "What about the other mage?" asked Laera.

  "Hanibaz?" Tycho looked back toward the collapsed shelter. It was hard to see, but none of the shadows there looked man-shaped. "I think he's gone, too. He wouldn't stick around for nothing either."

  Li grunted, nodding to the shelter as well. "What about Lander? He was under there."

  "Dead or fled, I don't care." Tycho turned away, splashing on through the alley. Laera came with him and, after a moment, Li followed.

  They stepped out of the alley and into the street, turning back toward Bakers Lane. They didn't get far. At the very first crossroads, torchlight flared. "What-? " Tycho gasped as city guards came pouring into the intersection from every direction, swords drawn and ready. He froze.

  Mard Dantakain stepped out from among his men and women. The captain of the guard was covered in soot. A fresh burn shone red and raw on his face. "Tychoben Ari-saenn and Kuang Li Chien, you are under arrest."

  "For?" snarled Tycho.

  "Kidnapping," Mard said coldly, "and murder. I went to your rooms looking for my daughter and I found my brother." His eyes were very hard. "I don't think even Magistrate Vanyan will listen to your explanations this time."

  "He should," said Laera. Tycho stared as the young woman slipped around him to confront her father. "Tycho and Li haven't done anything."

  Mard's hard eyes narrowed. He nodded at two of his men. "Take her home."

  "No!" Laera held her chin high, and her voice was defiant. "I ran away. Tycho was looking out for me. And Uncle Jacerryl was killed by a halfling named Brin over abagofbeljurils."

  "Brin?" Mard's eyes managed to grow even narrower, darting from Laera to Tycho then Li, finally settling on Veseene. Laera spoke again before he could say anything more.

  "Brin killed her, too. He kidnapped her and left Uncle Jacerryl. He would have killed all of us if Tycho and Li hadn't stopped him."

  Mard looked back to Tycho. "And Brin is now…?"

  "Dead," Tycho said bluntly.

  "So this story about beljurils is entirely your word."

  "No, it isn't." Laera reached into her belt, pulled out a velvet bag, and dumped its contents into the palm of her hand. Mard stared at the winking gems and even his eyes went wide for a moment, and he scowled. His voice dropped low so none of the guards would hear.

  "Give those to me, Laera, and go home."

  She closed her hand over the gems. "Not until you let Tycho and Li go," she murmured back.

  "They're under arrest!"

  "For what? They didn't do anything. The magistrate won't hold them. You taught me the law yourself."

  Mard's eyes narrowed again. "Who killed Brin?"

 
; Laera's eyes narrowed just like her father's. "I did." Mard clenched his jaw. Laera raised her eyebrows and smiled thinly. "Or maybe not. You can put me before the magistrate if you like-or you can take my word that Tycho and Li didn't do anything and let them go." She clenched her fist over her heart. "Tyr's truth, father. They're heroes."

  "Laera…"

  Laera took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Let them go and I'll come home."

  Tycho couldn't hold back a startled gasp. Laera twisted around and looked back at him.

  "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you, Tycho," she said. "But I don't belong on the road. My place is here." Her smile faltered. "Like in the story of Dain and Eiter."

  Tycho caught the meaning in her words. She was giving herself up for them. He gave her a crooked smile. "You would have made a fine apprentice," he said. Mard choked at his words. Tycho's grin grew just a bit and he added, "Let's hope no one cuts off your hand."

  Mard choked again and whirled around. "Dismissed," he shouted sharply to his guards. "Return to stations." As the guards dispersed, he turned back to Laera with a glower. "So you have a brain after all," he sighed. "You chose a fine time to use it." He took her hand and held her close-then glared at Tycho and Li over her head and growled, "Get out of Spandeliyon."

  "Father!" Laera protested. Tycho hissed at her and met Mard's gaze.

  "A day to bury the dead," he said.

  "Granted. Then I don't want to see you again." He looked at Li. "Either of you."

  Li snarled at him in Shou. Mard glanced at him. "He said 'yes,'" Tycho lied.

  Mard glared at them once more before stalking off. Laera tried to look back, but he held her firmly.

  Then they were alone. Tycho sighed and held Veseene's frail body close. A day. It didn't seem long enough.

  "What now, Tycho?" asked Li. The bard sighed again and looked up. He nodded along one of the cross-streets.

  "There's a cemetery inland behind high town," he said. "I know a priest there. He'll take her in. Tonight even."

  "I meant after," said the Shou. "You can't stay here. Even without Mard Dantakain, you've made enemies of two wizards and the Hooded today."

  Tycho smiled crookedly. "Now you know why I didn't protest leaving Spandeliyon." He shifted Veseene in his arms and began walking toward high town. "I don't really know where I'll go. Around. It doesn't really matter. New stories, new songs. I still haven't been to Waterdeep and there's that 'vigorous harp' technique to try out there!"

  Li fell into step beside him. "I'll be going back to Keelung. I need to tell my father what happened here." His hand twitched toward the pocket that held the scraps of the Yellow Silk. Tycho winced.

  "Li, I'm sorry about the Silk."

  "I'll give it back to my father. The master weavers of Kuang may be able to repair it." Li looked down at Veseene's still form. "Your loss can't be remade. I'm more sorry for that."

  "Thanks." Tycho kissed his old friend's cheek. "She died with a song on her lips. I think her spirit is still singing."

  Li smiled. "You know," he said, "the ship I came on should still be in the harbor. I'll be taking it back to Telflamm and starting east along the Golden Way once spring comes. Would you like to come with me?"

  Tycho choked. "Bind me, yes!" His face crinkled. "I don't have much coin for passage, though."

  "You can earn it." Li opened his coat and dipped his hand inside. There was the sharp rip of cloth. Tycho twisted around to stare. Li's hand emerged, unfolding to show three stones that gleamed black-red in the moonlight. "But here's a start."

  "Li!"

  "Your reward, remember? For helping me."

  "I couldn't take-" Li's eyebrow rose. Tycho sighed. "All right, I can take it. Bind me, you're starting to know me too well!" He looked sideways at the Shou. "Li?"

  "Yes?"

  "Do I really speak Shou like a whore?"

  Li looked up at the moon. "You have an accent," he said diplomatically. "We can work on it." He glanced back down. "Tycho?"

  "Yes?"

  "What's Thayan pox?"

  EPILOGUE

  Lander shivered in the cold darkness of his prison, blankets wrapped around him, waiting. How long, he wondered. Soon. Surely soon. His stomach had been growling for an eternity.

  The hatch in the bottom of the door popped open. Lander darted forward eagerly.

  Except it wasn't a bowl of food that appeared. A rope slithered through the door like a snake. He yelped and leaped back, but the rope was faster. It shot forward, twining first around his ankles to send him sprawling then around his wrists to hold him helpless.

  As soon as he was securely bound, the door opened and Hanibaz Nassor walked in. Lander spat at him. The bearded mage just stepped aside. "Lander," he chided him, "remember, you accepted my help freely."

  Brin's hand had flicked out-hurling his knife at Veseene, killing her. And Tycho had gone as mad as Brin. Pressing himself back into the collapsed shelter, Lander had felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to stare at Hanibaz's battered face. "You helped me," the mage had slurred, "let me help you." He had held out his hand. Lander had hesitated only a moment and seized it.

  A word from Hanibaz and they had been here. Or at least he had. A prisoner of the mage. At least he had blankets and food. And he only had to put up with a little poking.

  Hanibaz rolled him onto his side and tugged down his trousers to inspect the wound on his hip, touching it gently. The pressure of his finger stung, and Lander hissed. It was nothing compared to that first night after the spell that the mage had cast in the sty wore off. Lander had thought he was going to die from the pain. It had passed quickly, though, and if the wound Black Scratch had inflicted was taking its sweet time healing, at least it didn't hurt so much.

  "Well?" he snarled at Hanibaz. "There will be most likely be a scar." "I don't care about that! You know what I mean!" "If you mean is it healing, then yes. It is." "It would probably heal faster in a proper bedchamber," Lander pointed out. As usual, Hanibaz said nothing, just stood up and stepped to the door. Lander cursed at him. "A potion, then? You're a mage, you must have a simple healing potion lying around."

  Hanibaz walked out and shut the door behind him. As soon as it was closed, the rope fell off of Lander and went slithering through the hatch. A moment later, a bowl of food slid through in its place. Savory aromas tempted Lander's nostrils. Beef tonight. Good meat. He held himself back from the food, though, and yelled after Hanibaz.

  "Whatever you're doing to me, I wish you'd hurry up with it! I've never been this hungry in my life, and I swear my hair is growing faster than this wound is healing!"

  A little window he had never noticed before popped open high up in the door and Hanibaz peered through. "It most likely is."

  Lander cursed again as he pulled up his trousers. "Damn you, what are you doing to me?"

  "Why, nothing at all. You're healing all by yourself."

  "What?" Lander clenched his fists. "If you're not healing me, why are you keeping me in here?"

  "Because our friend Black Scratch may have passed something on to you."

  "Passed something…"Lander staggered back and sat down hard. He landed right on his slowly healing wound but barely noticed. Black Scratch. Yu Mao. A boar that became a man-a man who became a boar. "A wereboar?" Lander choked. "Black Scratch was a wereboar?" Stories said a wereboar could pass its curse on to people who survived its attacks. "Bitch Queen's mercy." Lander looked back up at Hanibaz. "Am I going to catch the curse?"

  Hanibaz's eyes twinkled. "I certainly hope so!"

  The little window slid shut. Lander stared at it for a mo-ment then he threw himself at the door, pounding on it and screaming after the Red Wizard, "No! No! "

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