Dhampir Part 31

He could almost see the thoughts in Ellinwood's mind pa.s.sing across the man's swollen face. Anxiety was followed by alarm, and then by cunning, and finally, the constable smiled.

"You don't think I would keep any of my silver here?" His gaze s.h.i.+fted unconsciously to the top of the wardrobe and then quickly back to Rashed. "Some light-fingered maid might steal it."

Rashed did not have time for games, and disgust for this greedy man was turning to hatred. He changed tactics and focused psychically.

"You are in danger," he said. "I've come to take you to safety. Gather your money. Gather what you need and follow me."

Ellinwood's already weak mind, further dulled with opiate and whiskey, was easy to overcome. He suddenly believed himself to be in danger from an outside source and that Rashed was his protector.

"Yes, yes," he said, fumbling in panic to get to his feet. "I won't be long."

"We'll go to the docks," Rashed said. "You will be safe there."

"Safe," Ellinwood repeated.

He hurried to the wardrobe, unlocked the top drawer, and pulled out several heavy pouches that jingled in his hands.

"Give me the coins for safekeeping," Rashed said. "I will guard them for you."

The constable handed him the pouches. Rashed tied them to his belt and pulled the cloak around himself again.

They walked down the stairs together, and this time, Rashed simply hid beneath his hood as they pa.s.sed Loni. The constable lived there. No one would question him leaving with a companion. The two of them traveled quickly through the quiet town to the sh.o.r.e, and Rashed moved out to stand on the wooden planks at the end of a dock.

"Here," he said. "You will be safe here."

Ellinwood joined him. His weight caused the boards to creak.

"Safe," he said again, smiling.

Rashed could not believe how easy the man's mind was to control. It took little effort at all, and controlling the perceptions of another while feeding suggested thoughts was normally a great effort for him. He reached out with both hands and grasped Ellinwood's fleshy face. Then he jerked hard to the left, snapping the constable's neck. His victim felt no pain, but was simply rendered lifeless.

Rather than attempting to hold the heavy body up, he allowed it to fall backward off the long dock. No one would hear it hit the water. It might wash out to sea, and it might wash up on the sh.o.r.e. If someone discovered it, they would see red-pouched eyes and later find the yellow powder in his room. Either way, by the time he was found, Rashed planned to be long gone.

The thought of Teesha alone at the boat made him anxious, and he left the docks quickly, fingering the pouches on his belt, not giving Ellinwood's place of death a backward glance.

Chapter Eighteen

Magiere knelt upon the floor and bandaged Leesil's ribs las best she could, while the half-elf sat numbly on the side of his bed. According to Caleb, Miiska had possessed a competent healer until the previous winter. The healer's wife suffered from a breathing illness, and he'd taken her south to a drier climate. Caleb said the few others in town who claimed to be healers were probably less skilled than Magiere herself at dealing with cracked bones, and the last knowledgeable herbalist was Brenden's mother, who died years ago.

Although alarmed that Leesil was injured again so soon, Magiere felt a guilty sense of purpose for the task of tending him. It gave her an activity to focus on. Leesil had not spoken a word since hearing of Brenden's death and stared at the wall of his bedroom while she used torn sheets to wrap his broken ribs. His jaw was now several shades of purple and yellow. Some of Welstiel's salve remained, and she carefully applied it to his face.

Chap paced about the room. Twice, he came over and shoved his wet nose into Leesil's dangling hand, who did not respond.

"You'll heal," Magiere said finally.

"Will I?" he answered.

"Yes, you will."

He was quiet for a while and then drew air in through his mouth, wincing slightly.

"I thought they were gone, Magiere. I swear to all the G.o.ds that I thought them dead."

"I know. We all did. It isn't your fault."

Magiere remembered how in the beginning she'd been desperate to avoid becoming embroiled in all of this. How foolish. There was no way to avoid it. There never had been. And now these undead creatures would not rest until she and any near her were dead and buried in a local graveyard.

"I won't pretend to understand how you feel, but the worst is yet to come," she said, and her voice failed her for a moment. "I need you. Are you up to making a defense plan with me?"

He blinked in sadness. "I honestly don't know."

She got up from the floor and sat beside him on the bed.

This was a pleasant room. The mattress was stuffed with feathers, not straw, and everything smelled of Leesil, a mix of earth and spices. There was also a slight musty smell, and she knew his bedding had not been aired since Beth-rae's death. A small table and one chair were in the corner, but with the exception of a fat, white candle, the table was bare. For the most part, his room was neat and spare. Although he had the ability to go through money at an amazing rate, material objects held little interest for him.

Magiere still wore her blue dress, but the skirt was now torn and muddied. The faded cotton s.h.i.+rt she'd pulled off him and dropped on the floor was stained and torn beyond repair.

"We're going through a lot of clothes," she said, more to break the silence than for any other reason.

Leesil did not respond for a long while, then finally looked at her.

"I know." He nodded. "I was thinking about that earlier tonight... seems like a long time ago. Everything was different."

"The three of us aren't enough to deal with this," she urged, now that she had his attention again. "We need help from the townsfolk, as much as we can get. I don't know how to manipulate people, and you do." She paused and added in apology, "I mean that as a compliment."

He didn't even pretend to bristle or take offense. His lack of reaction was beginning to gnaw at her insides. How much spirit did he have left?

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. Magiere took a deep breath, slowly and quietly, trying not to let him see her own unease.

"Get some rest first," she answered, standing up. "I'll call for a town meeting downstairs later in the day. When it's time, I'll come for you. I need you to convince these people that we need their help. I have to face Rashed myself, but we need to lay a trap and that is going to take numbers. Once we get these creatures in the open, inside of town, they can't be allowed to get out again. Does that make sense?"

"Yes." He nodded again, and she put her hand carefully against his back and helped him lie down.

Magiere pushed white-blond hair back out of his eyes and noted again how the long scratches on his face didn't really mar his narrow features. Before their arrival in Miiska, she'd never realized just how much she liked his face. "What are you going to do now?" he asked. She attempted a half-smile. "I'm going to make you some soup, and hopefully not poison you in the process."

Something in her words or manner shook him from his pa.s.sive state, and he grabbed her hand. The strength in his grip surprised her. It almost hurt.

"I'm not a coward," he said. "You know that, don't you?"

"Of course," she said. "Don't be a fool."

"There are s.h.i.+ps leaving dock all the time. n.o.body would even notice if you and I and Chap slipped out of here. We could be halfway down the coast in a few days and start over someplace else."

The thought of flight had never occurred to her, and she did consider Leesil's words briefly. Sailing away from all this, the three of them intact and alive, was suddenly enticing. The mere thought of it brought a feeling of release that washed through her. They had enough money to start a new life and leave this horror to the people of Miiska.

But faces and names kept surfacing in her mind. Beth-rae. Brenden. Eliza.

And all the others they'd heard of. The town's main warehouse was now gone, and so many lives were now affected.

"No," she said. "We can't just leave. If we do, everything we've done here would be for nothing. Everyone who has died will have died for nothing. We have to finish this."

Leesil looked away.

"And this is our home," she went on, urging him to understand. "I've never had a home. Have you?"

Resignation cleared some of the sorrow from Leesil's expression. He let go of her hand and relaxed against his pillow.

"No, not really. You and that dog and this broken-down tavern are the most I've ever had."

Magiere started for the door. "I'm going to make soup. You rest."

Before she stepped in the hallway, he called out softly, "I want to bury Brenden."

She didn't answer.

Later that morning, Magiere made large pots of tea and opened a cask of good ale, while Caleb left to call a town meeting. He promised to speak to as many people as possible. By midday, when he returned, Caleb had learned a number of important revelations that he reported to Magiere.

First, the bodies of two sailors were found dead on the beach. One's throat was literally torn open. The other was found up sh.o.r.e, closer to Miiska. His wrist and throat were punctured. Although no one spoke of it, Caleb said both bodies were so pale that the cause of their deaths left little to mystery.

Secondly, he told her Constable Ellinwood had vanished. One of Ellinwood's guards had gone to notify him after the bodies of the sailors were discovered. His office was empty, and so were his rooms at The Velvet Rose. According to rumors-which Caleb heard through friends among the guards-nothing in either place appeared to have been packed or removed. An urn of yellow powder and a bottle of whiskey were found near a used gla.s.s, though no one seemed to know the nature of the strange powder. Loni reported that Ellinwood had left with a companion quite late in the night, or perhaps quite early in the morning, and had not returned. The constable simply disappeared.

Magiere puzzled over this. Where had he gone? In spite of the man's possessions being left behind, Magiere certainly considered Ellinwood capable of flight.

"Are the guards still looking for him?" she asked. "Perhaps he simply spent the night with a lady friend?"

Caleb nodded. "Yes, they've combed Miiska. No one has seen him since last night."

It was likely something would turn up sooner or later, and Magiere had other worries. Although the constable's disappearance was puzzling, she didn't exactly find it unwelcome. Convincing the townsfolk they must defend themselves might be even easier for Leesil with their authority figurehead unexplainably missing.

The last bit of news Caleb related bothered Magiere for several reasons. Apparently, he'd asked several of the market shopkeepers to carry Brenden's body into The Sea Lion's kitchen for visitation before burial.

"He has no family left," Caleb said. "This is a decent act."

Of course, it was decent. She had no argument with that. But was it wise? Leesil's current state of mind was fragile enough without Brenden's dead body lying on the kitchen table. And she mourned for Brenden, too. He was a brave man who would still be alive were it not for her. But he was beyond help now. She had to protect the living.

However, Caleb did not ask her permission. He simply announced his decision and let the matter drop. She decided to do the same.

"How soon can we expect people to arrive for the meeting?" she asked.

"Any time now."

When she looked at him, it seemed his walk was a little more stooped and his hair a little more gray than when she had met him. Poor man. So much had happened in the past few days.

"Where's Rose?" she asked.

"I think she's sitting with Leesil. I'd better get them."

"No, I'll do it. Why don't you find some tea mugs?"

For some reason, she didn't want Caleb to know how badly Leesil was injured. The half-elf couldn't even walk without help.

She jogged up the stairs and found Rose sitting next to him on his bed, showing him some pictures she'd drawn with charcoal on old paper. The scene struck her as too calm, too normal for their present circ.u.mstances.

"I like the one with the flowers," he said.

Rose's muslin dress was clean, but no one had bothered to brush her hair since Beth-rae's death. It was beginning to look quite tangled. Her small face glowed with a rosy tinge. In the way of children, she accepted change and appeared to be turning to Leesil for company. The purple color of his jaw was nearly black in hue, and although the scratches on his face were healing, the savage nature behind those long claw marks was obvious.

Magiere wavered. Perhaps she should keep him up here and try to convince the townsfolk herself. But he was the talker, not her.

"Are you ready?" Magiere asked quietly.

"Yes, just help me up."

"Come on, Rose," Magiere said. "We're going downstairs. You can sit with Chap by the fire."

By the guarded wince he made, she knew the effort to stand caused Leesil more pain than he would ever admit. She pulled his arm over her shoulder and supported him as best she could.

"I know you're injured," she said, "but try to hurry. I want to get you settled in a chair before anyone arrives. Do you have any ideas yet?"

"Yes," he answered. "I know what to do."

Not long after that, Leesil found himself in a chair by the fire, feigning comfort. He did not blame Magiere for pulling him downstairs like this to face a ma.s.s of townspeople. On the contrary, he admired her strength and clarity of thought. But at least three of his ribs were broken, and he feared that when Ratboy had thrown him against the fir tree, the action caused more damage than simply bruising his back. Sitting up was agony.

Forty men and women from Miiska were now gathered in the common room of The Sea Lion. Leesil knew Magiere had hoped for more, but forty were better than none and almost overfilled the room. Caleb served tea and Magiere served thick, nut-brown ale to those who wanted it. The whole affair appeared more like an afternoon party than a discussion of survival.

His partner walked over to him and leaned down. She was still wearing the torn blue dress, carrying a tray of ale mugs, and her hair had pulled loose from its braid. She hardly fit the image of a warrior.

"I'm going to force them to admit what we are facing, and then you explain the plan," she whispered.

The plan? Didn't a plan usually involve careful thought and discussion? But he did not have the luxury of time. What he basically had to do was sell these people on the idea that if they wished to be saved, they would have to help save themselves.

Magiere turned to face the crowd. Karlin, the baker, and his son, Geoffry, sat directly in front of her.