Cloak Games: Shatter Stone Read online

  “Right,” I said.

  I unfolded the letter and started to read.

  “The Knight greets you, Captain Robert Ross, and reminds you of the day you met during the campaign against the dwarves of Nerzuramaxis twelve years ago,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I pronounced that name right or not. “You were in the wilds of the Shadowlands, beyond the umbra of Earth. Your entire company was cut off and slaughtered by cowlspawn. By chance, you survived the battle, but the cowlspawn surrounded you. You would have been slain, but the Knight rescued you, and you agreed to become one of the Graysworn. Today the Knight requests your assistance, and asks that you follow any instructions from this woman as if they were from the Knight himself.”

  I lowered the letter and waited for his response.

  “Robert,” said Alexandra in a soft voice, touching his arm. “You never told me this.”

  “I tell you everything,” said Robert, his eyes distant with dark memories. “But not the things that happen in the Shadowlands. They are too horrible. I wouldn’t burden you with the memories. I wish I was not cursed with those memories.” He looked at his wife. “You understand. You’ve been to the Shadowlands.”

  “Yeah,” said Alexandra.

  They both looked at me.

  “So,” said Robert. “What does the Knight want of me?”

  “How long have you been a man-at-arms?” I said.

  “Fourteen years,” said Robert. “I joined at eighteen, and stayed after my first tour of duty was finished.”

  “So you’ve been to the Shadowlands quite a bit, yeah?” I said.

  “A bit,” said Robert, a touch of humor entering his voice for the first time.

  “Have you ever been to a place called Venomhold?” I said.

  Robert blinked. “Shit.”

  “What is it?” said Alexandra.

  “A terrible place,” said Robert. He rubbed his face with his free hand, though he never took his eyes from me. “You met the Knight of Grayhold, right?” Alexandra nodded. “He’s a scary guy, and I never would want to cross him, but he’s one of the good guys in the end. He helps defend Earth from some of the nastier things in the Shadowlands.” I wondered if Alexandra and Robert knew about the Dark Ones, and decided not to ask. If they did, they could never unlearn the truth. “The Knight of Venomhold is worse, way worse. She’s not one of the good guys. I heard she allied with all the nasty things in the Shadowlands, anthrophages and bloodrats and crawlers and worse things. They say she hates Earth and the High Queen.”

  “So you’ve been there?” I said.

  “Three times,” said Robert. “The first two times were bad. Battles against the Archons and their orcs and the fighting spilled into the Knight of Venomhold’s demesne. She didn’t interfere, but she let her anthrophages and bloodrats pick off stragglers and the wounded. The third time, I went into the citadel of Venomhold itself and saw the Knight.”

  “Really?” I said. “And you’re still alive?”

  Robert grimaced. “It was sort of an accident. We were fighting the orcs, and we came across an embassy of dwarves from Nerzuramaxis making their way to Venomhold. Some of the spawn of the deep Shadowlands had wiped out half their guard. Duke Carothrace thought we could get in good with the dwarves if we escorted them to Venomhold, and I was part of the escort.” His grimace intensified, and a brief shudder went through his broad shoulders. “Venomhold’s a bad place. Still, it worked out. We got back to Earth alive, and the dwarves were so impressed that Nerzuramaxis has stayed neutral in the High Queen’s wars ever since.” He looked at me. “Why are you asking about…no, don’t bother. The Knight wants us to go to Venomhold, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Why?” said Robert.

  “He needs us to steal something from the Tower of Regrets,” I said.

  “What is that?” said Alexandra.

  Robert blew out a long breath. “I’ve seen it. It’s this big tower just off the throne hall in the heart of Venomhold. The Knight of Venomhold sometimes keeps her prisoners there. He wants us to rescue a prisoner?”

  “No,” I said. “He needs us to steal something.”

  I supposed that was a lie. Morvilind wanted me to steal the Nihlus Stone, not the Knight of Grayhold. But Jacob Temple was giving me a lot of help to steal that damned rock, so I suppose he wanted it done. Briefly, I wondered if Temple wanted the Nihlus Stone for himself. Maybe he planned to let me steal the Stone, escape from Venomhold, and then take the Stone from me, leaving Morvilind to kill me for my failure.

  Well, if that was what the Knight wanted, I would just have to disappoint him.

  “What are we supposed to steal?” said Robert.

  “Something called a Nihlus Stone,” I said.

  “What is a Nihlus Stone?”

  “Rare and magical.” I shrugged. “Damned if I know what it does. It’s in the Tower of Regrets, and the Knight of Grayhold doesn’t want the Knight of Venomhold to have it. That’s that.”

  “Then what is our first step?” said Robert.

  “We plan,” I said. “I have some other help coming. Meet me here tomorrow at 10 AM.” I rattled off the address of the coffee shop.

  “All right,” said Robert.

  “Wait,” said Alexandra, touching his arm again. “You’re really doing this? This is crazy.”

  “It is,” said Robert, “but I have an oath, and it does not violate my oath to the High Queen and Duke Carothrace. It’s the reason I became a man-at-arms.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Alexandra.

  “To protect our country and our people,” said Robert. “I came to the United States after the Archons destroyed Monterrey when I was a boy. That was why I became a man-at-arms, and after I joined the Duke’s service, I realized there were worse things than the Archons and their orcish mercenaries. Some of the things the Knight showed me…I hope you never see them. I hope our child never has to see them. That is why I am doing this.”

  It was a good speech. No wonder he had risen to an officer’s rank.

  Alexandra closed her eyes. “I know.”

  I swallowed. I felt like I was intruding. “I’ll go. I will see you tomorrow, Captain Ross.”

  “Irina,” said Alexandra.

  I stopped halfway to the door.

  “Can you bring him back alive?” she said.

  I remembered watching her weep with shock, remembered contemplating killing her to keep from drawing the attention of the denizens of the Shadowlands.

  “If he doesn’t come back,” I said, “then I’m not coming back either.”

  To be honest, that was the most likely outcome, but for some reason, that comforted her.

  I nodded and left the apartment, closing the door behind me. Riordan still waited against the wall, and he straightened up and followed me as we left the building. I didn’t say anything as I climbed into his truck, and I didn’t say anything as he pulled into traffic.

  “Where next?” he said.

  “Those were all the names the Knight gave me,” I said. “Let’s go to my apartment. Tomorrow’s going to be busy, and I need some sleep.”

  “What did Captain Ross say?” said Riordan.

  “He all but jumped at the chance,” I said. “He said a lot of things about protecting Earth and his family. I suppose the Department of Education did a good job of brainwashing him.”

  “That was cynical even for you,” said Riordan.

  I scowled, shook my head, and hit the dashboard in frustration. That was stupid. It made my hand hurt.

  “Alexandra’s pregnant,” I said. “Four or five months along, I think. So here I come to take her husband to the Shadowlands and Venomhold. I’m going to make her a widow and the kid an orphan. I mean, I’m going to get Hakon Valborg killed too, but he’s an old man. Still, I’m going to get my brother’s girlfriend’s grandfather killed alongside an expectant father.”

  “You don’t know that you’re going to get them killed,” said Riordan.
/>   “I don’t, but I know it’s a possibility,” I said. I was angry at Morvilind and disgusted at myself, and the words kept bursting out. “I might get you killed, too. I know it might happen, and I’m doing it anyway, because if I don’t Russell is going to die. I’m risking all your lives to save his.”

  “You’re risking your life as well,” said Riordan.

  “Who cares about my life?” I said, folding my arms. “I’m a thief and a liar and a murderer. My life is worthless.”

  “No,” said Riordan, his voice harder than it had been.

  “Maybe you should just put a bullet in my damned head,” I said.

  “Why would I do that?” said Riordan.

  “Because maybe I’m the embryo of Sergei Rogomil,” I said.

  He gave me a strange look. “What?”

  “Okay.” I rubbed my face. “Bad metaphor. But you remember Rogomil, right? Killed all those people in Madison and at the Ducal Mall. Bet he didn’t start out murdering children. You know, I think he started out risking other people’s lives because it was useful.” I shook my head. “If I keep on as I’m going, maybe I’ll be someone like him in a few years.”

  We drove in silence for a while. Riordan took the truck out of Madison and back onto the freeway, heading east towards Milwaukee. It had started to snow, and white flakes blurred past in the truck’s headlights.

  “No,” said Riordan.

  I snorted. “Prove me wrong.”

  He lifted his right hand from the wheel and started to tick off points on his fingers. “First, you’re trying to save your brother. Rogomil and the Rebels want to rule Earth, not save anyone. Second, you feel guilty.”

  “So what?” I said.

  “Someone like Rogomil would be sitting there justifying everything he ever did,” said Riordan “You don’t. He wouldn’t feel bad about it. You do. Third…did you ever consider the possibility that this might not be about you?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The Nihlus Stone,” said Riordan. “Jacob Temple is an ass, but he does his duty, and his duty is to protect Earth. Not even the High Queen will challenge him on that. Morvilind is greedy and venal, but Temple can use that for his own ends. Did you ever think that there might be an excellent reason the Knight of Venomhold shouldn’t have the Nihlus Stone?”

  “But what does the Stone do?” I said.

  “It must be a weapon,” said Riordan. “Something powerful and dangerous. Like the magical equivalent of a nuclear bomb or a biological weapon. Do you really want the Knight of Venomhold to have a weapon like that? You know she’s protecting the Rebel cells, giving them sanctuary within the Shadowlands.”

  I thought of Nicholas Connor and what he might have done with a nuclear bomb. He had almost wiped out a soccer stadium in Los Angeles. I had stopped him, but with a nuke, he could have done far worse.

  “No,” I said. “But should Morvilind have it?”

  “I hate Kaethran Morvilind as much as you do,” said Riordan, “but if I had a choice between giving a nuclear bomb to someone like the Knight of Venomhold or Morvilind, I would give it to Morvilind without hesitation. I doubt he would do anything with it. He hasn’t done anything for centuries. He’s like a miser brooding over his pile of coins.”

  We drove in silence for a while.

  “You don’t think I’m a monster?” I said at last.

  I hated the little quaver in my voice.

  He snorted. “You’re asking a Shadow Hunter that?” He flexed his right hand, and the lines of his Shadowmorph crawled across his fingers.

  “You have too much self-control to be a monster,” I said. “But what about me?”

  “Nadia Moran,” he said. “You are headstrong, vindictive, and impudent, but you’re not a monster.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”

  “I’m not a monster either,” said Riordan, “but it worries me that I might become one.” He paused. “Maybe that’s the secret. If you stop caring, then you’re too far gone.”

  “Right,” I said. I shook my head. “Impudent. Words hurt, you know.”

  “Especially when they’re true.”

  I laughed, and we lapsed into silence.

  I did feel better.

  But I thought of Alexandra’s baby and the guilt kept gnawing at me.

  Well, there was only one way to fix that, wasn’t there? I would just have to make sure we all came back alive.

  Damned if I knew how I was going to do that, though.

  Chapter 6: Friends In Strange Places

  Riordan and I spent an incredibly awkward night together.

  No, no, get your mind out of the gutter. It wasn’t like that.

  Though I do kind of wish it had been like that.

  Anyway.

  Riordan drove me back to Milwaukee and my apartment, parking in the badly-plowed gravel parking lot behind the building.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and retrieving my duffel bags. “I’ll meet you at the coffee shop tomorrow, and we’ll try to think up something clever.”

  Riordan nodded and shut off the engine.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Planning on spending the night?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  My mouth went dry.

  “The banehound is still after you,” said Riordan. “Until we figure out who sent it, you shouldn’t be alone. Banehounds prefer to attack their victims when they’re isolated. Alone in an apartment at night would be an ideal place for it to attack you.”

  “Yeah,” I said, not quite meeting his gaze. “That’s a good idea…”

  “I’ll sleep in the living room,” said Riordan.

  Relief and disappointment went through me at the same time. The prideful part of my mind wanted to say that I could take care of myself. The lustful part wanted to say that Riordan didn’t have to sleep on the couch.

  “All right,” I said, and we went inside.

  I flipped on the lights, half-expecting to see Mr. Cane waiting for me with that friendly smile, but my apartment was deserted. I looked around, trying to find a place in the cluttered living room where Riordan could sleep. At last, I shrugged, went to the closet, and found some spare blankets and pillows. Riordan made himself a bed roll at the foot of my treadmill, laying his guns on the floor to keep them close at hand.

  “Sorry you have to sleep on the floor,” I said. “I don’t have a lot of guests.”

  “Trust me, I’ve had worse,” said Riordan, taking off his coat and his shoes.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Look, um…help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen, and you don’t need to ask if you have to use the bathroom. I think…I think I am going to get some sleep.”

  He nodded. “Good night, Nadia.”

  “Yeah,” I said again. I felt like an idiot. I was wavering between inviting him to my bed or hurrying into my bedroom and shutting the door, even though I knew that inviting him to my bed was likely a bad idea. “Thanks. For watching out for me.”

  “I told you I don’t want anything to happen to you,” said Riordan, lying down and wrapping up in the blanket. “Good night.”

  I nodded, retreated to my bedroom, and shut the door behind me.

  I knew I was acting oddly, but to be honest, I was freaked out. I wasn’t used to having someone in my living space. I lived with the Marneys from time to time, but I had my own room and bathroom. I didn’t have to share. Out of necessity, I was a private person. And if I invited Riordan into my bedroom…no one had ever seen me naked except for Nicholas Connor, and that hadn’t ended well.

  I decided that it had been a long day, that I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I needed an uninterrupted night’s sleep. I lay down, brooded for an hour or so, and then I fell asleep.

  I slept well, all things considered. I only woke up once at about two in the morning when I discovered an interesting fact about my bathroom. The bathroom walls were extremely thin, so I could hear Riordan relieving himself.

  Goo
d God. How much coffee had that man drunk?

  I tried not to giggle and then fell back asleep.

  The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee through the bedroom door. I got up, did some exercises to loosen up, and went into the bathroom to shower. I suppose Riordan, with his inhumanly sharp senses, could hear me taking a shower. For some reason, that was almost as embarrassing as if he had seen me naked.

  How did people ever learn to live with each other?

  It started to occur to me that my childhood with Morvilind had messed me up in ways that I didn’t even understand yet.

  Whatever. I had work to do, and it wouldn’t get done if I stood around moping. I got dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and a black hooded sweatshirt, and went into the living room. Riordan had taken over the kitchen to make scrambled eggs and coffee. He looked as well-rested as if he had gotten a good night’s sleep in an actual bed, though he needed a shave. He managed to pull off the unshaved look, though.

  “Morning,” I said. “Sleep well?”

  “The sleep of the just,” he said in a dry voice. “Coffee?”

  “Oh, God, yes,” I said. He handed me a mug and a plate. I didn’t have proper chairs for guests, so I sat on the end of my treadmill, and he took my desk chair. “Thanks for breakfast. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did,” said Riordan. “I was hungry, and I didn’t want you left alone while I went out and bought breakfast. The eggs were the only edible thing in your refrigerator.”

  “Yeah,” I said, sipping at my coffee. It was hot, but I drank half the cup. Good thing that he had made an entire pot. “You didn’t have to do…any of this.”

  “I know,” said Riordan, “but I did.” He ate a forkful of eggs.

  “You know,” I said, my mouth running away before my brain could stop me, “if you had visited my room last night, I wouldn’t have complained.”

  Riordan snorted. “I would have gotten a globe of lightning in the face for my trouble.”

  “No,” I said. “You wouldn’t have.”

  His gaze met mine, and a little shiver went down my nerves.