Page 45 of Fateless

“Ah, well. You see, I would like to hire her. All of you, actually.” The men retreated another step, now that it was clear that Raithe was not letting them into the room. “Allow us to introduce ourselves. We are businessmen from Jorlan, the closet neighbor to Damassi.”

I wrinkled my nose.Businessmenwas another name for the merchant princes, the elite class of traders who had gotten so rich from their various dealings that they rivaled the nobility in wealth and power. They were despised by nearly everyone. The commoners hated them because they acted like nobles, and the nobles looked down on them for daring to be prosperous. Butsince the merchant princes controlled much of the trade between cities, they weren’t too worried about either side.

“We saw the abomination before it was dumped back into the Dust Sea,” the other man went on. “Magnificent, and terrifying. To kill a creature like that must have taken a great amount of skill.”

“Is there a point to this?” Raithe asked. Still coldly polite.

The first man cleared his throat. “Well, you see, a creature like that, even dead, must be worth a great amount of money to someone. If I understand correctly, those beasts were thought to have gone extinct ages ago.”

“Yes,” Raithe agreed. “The Deathless Kings brought them to life in the war that destroyed the world, and they disappeared when the kings faded away.”

“Yes, yes, yes, if you believe those old legends,” the other man said, waving a hand. Raithe didn’t reply, but I could almost feel the air around him grow colder. “The point remains,” the man went on, “that they are extremely rare creatures. And the rarer the creature, the more valuable it is. There is a fortune to be made if we can track another one down and kill it.”

“Once we reach Damassi, we’re planning to put together an expedition of hunters and beast killers,” his companion broke in. “We would be honored to have you at the head. You and the girl, since you have successfully killed one already. The insect rider would have been helpful, but she has rather foolishly turned down the offer. We will pay you, and of course, we are willing to share a percentage of the profits—”

“You are both fools.”

Both merchants stiffened, but Raithe’s stare remained cold and flat. “Fools, and shortsighted ones,” the iylvahn continued. “The abomination is a sign that a Deathless King has returned. You will have much larger things to worry about when the king starts his conquest of the kingdoms.”

“Deathless King?” The merchant princes exchanged glances. “The boy did not mention that,” one muttered, making me stiffen. “Abominations, Fateless, and now Deathless Kings? How are we to separate the truth from rumor and faery tales?”

Raithe went very still. “How do you know of the Fateless?” he asked, in a voice that made my skin prickle with fear. I wondered if the merchants knew how very close they were to death at that moment.

One of the men seemed to realize the danger, for his face paled and he clamped his jaw shut. The other did not. “The boy,” he muttered, waving a hand. “The one who was with you. Who calls himself a Fatechaser. We approached him first, to see if he wanted to be part of our expedition, but he was so drunk he could barely see straight. He was sobbing about ‘Fateless’ and ‘missed destiny.’ Obviously we had no idea what he was rambling on about. He told us to find the iylvahn and the girl if we wanted to talk business.”

“Halek...” Raithe clenched a fist. He sounded furious, and worry for the Fatechaser twisted my insides. It was hard to imagine the smiling, aggressively cheerful Halek sobbing and drunk in the strider’s tavern. Something had to be wrong.

“So are we to assume you are not interested in joining the expedition?” the first, somewhat oblivious merchant asked Raithe.“I urge you to consider the offer carefully—imagine the profit you could make! Girl,” he added, peering past Raithe into the room, “you came from Kovass, yes? If the city is truly gone, think of the potential. You could make enough coin to start a new life somewhere else—”

Raithe shut the door.

Indignant sputters came from the other side, and I almost smiled. Raithe shook his head and turned back to me. “Iamcorrect in assuming that you did not want to be a part of their expedition?” he asked.

I gave an emphatic nod. If I never saw one of those spider-scorpion-demon things again, it would be too soon.

After a final shout that we were making a grave mistake, and that if we changed our minds, we could find them in Damassi, the voices at the door faded. I listened to the merchants’ footsteps shuffling away and was pretty certain everyone on that expedition was going to die.

When they were truly gone, Raithe sighed. “Fatechaser,” he muttered, reaching for the door handle. “We’re going to have to have a talk.”

I sat up quickly. I didn’tthinkthe assassin would track down Halek and kill him, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

“Raithe, wait. I’m coming, too.”

The strider’s tavern was located on one of the lower decks. A dimly lit, dingy room with a low ceiling, grated metal floors, and no windows, it smelled strongly of grease and working-class citizens packed too close together. Nobles and merchant princesdidn’t venture this low into the strider, not for drinks, anyway; the tavern was obviously built for the d’wevryn who lived and worked on the vessel.

Raithe and I stepped inside, scanning the booths and beat-up tables scattered throughout. The iylvahn nearly had to duck his head to avoid scraping it on the ceiling, which barely cleared the top of his skull. A few patrons were seated at the bar, while two d’wevryn sailors and a human sat at a central table, throwing a familiar set of dice. It seemed Triple Fang was popular no matter where you went.

A familiar bright-haired figure was seated in a corner booth, elbows on the table and head in his hands. Mugs were scattered around him, and the entire corner smelled of cheap ale. He wasn’t alone. Kysa sat across from him, arms crossed, a look of sympathetic confusion on her face. She glanced up, raising a slender brow as we approached, then gave a resigned shrug.

“I admit, I cannot understand most of what he is saying,” she told us as we stepped to the edge of the table. “The ways of the Fatechasers are foreign to me. But as we fought a great evil together, I figured I would lend a listening ear. Perhaps you can better comprehend his dilemma—he has said both your names multiple times.” Her dark gaze flickered to Raithe and narrowed slightly. “He also kept saying that you were going to kill him, iylvahn.”

Raithe sighed. “Halek,” he said, staring down at the still motionless Fatechaser.

Halek’s shoulders flinched. “I know,” he groaned, burying his head deeper in his hands. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.I didn’t mean to tell those men about the Fateless.” He looked up, his eyes red and bloodshot, and my stomach twisted. It was obvious he had been sobbing, hard, and for a long time. “If you’re here to kill me, go ahead,” he told Raithe. “I have no idea what Fate or destiny are anymore.”

“I am not going to kill you,” Raithe said in a low voice, glancing at the patrons milling around the tavern. “Life is sacred. I take it only when I must. Accidentally revealing a secret while in the throes of drink and grief is not cause for death.” He paused, glancing at Kysa, who gave a solemn nod of respect, then turned back to Halek. “The three of us survived the fall of Kovass, the Dust Sea, and an abomination that was possibly sent to kill us all. I am not about to slay one of my allies. I am just curious as to where this sudden lapse of judgment came from.”

“Lapse of judgment,” Halek repeated, and groped for a half-full mug of ale beside him. “I guess you can call it that. If a life-altering, belief-shattering realization is a lapse of judgment.”

---