War of the Posers Page 7

  I needed to get my shit together. I needed to busy myself with the laundry list of things that needed attention. First, I had to figure out who the Iron Silents were. Figure out where they were. And how to actually end them.

  Also, considering everyone was freaking out that I was still level nine, I needed to find out what was going on with my leveling.

  Time to move.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As soon as I stepped outside, I realized I had two shadows. One was huge, and the other was Klara.

  “We heading somewhere?” Mornax asked, his eyes scanning the nearby environment for anything that might be a threat.

  “I’m going to look for the Iron Silents,” I said.

  “Just stroll around town?”

  “I was going for something slightly more efficient than that,” I said. “The only time I’ve been to one of their properties, it was a hidden lair in The Green. I want to go back there, see if I can scare up some information about the building it was in. Maybe back track them that way.”

  Nods from Klara and Mornax.

  “I take it you’re coming with me?” I asked.

  “We are yours to command,” Klara replied. “So if you’d prefer to go on your own…”

  “I don’t need both of you,” I said. “And anyway we need to keep an eye on these buildings. Especially since the Iron Silents know where we are, and we don’t even know who they are.”

  Mornax and Klara looked at each other. Something must have passed between them without me seeing. Mornax just nodded and headed back inside the Heavy Purse.

  “You drew the short straw?” I asked.

  “Something like that,” Klara replied.

  I noticed she loosened the sword sheathed at her side, just so it’d be easier to draw.

  “Expecting trouble?” I asked.

  “Around you?” she replied. “Yes.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Strolling around at mid-morning, I saw most of the city engaged and alive. There was a rather cold wind blowing from the northwest, and it smelled like rain. People scurried about, heads down against the impending weather, keeping to themselves in the way city people behaved. The guard population seemed to be trending downward. The city already getting used to the fact that there was no emperor. At least, that was certainly how it seemed.

  To get to the The Green, we had to leave Old Town, go through the Grand Market, past the Golden Square, which wasn’t gold, and get over to The Green. It always amazed me that there was such a complete change between neighborhoods in this city. We were just a block away from the demarcation line, and it was like we’d entered a different town. It was remarkably calm, quiet, and relaxed. Which made sense when you considered the bulk of the place was just gardens. There were more private guards, and fewer city guards. Not very many homes, but lots of green. Trees covered the city streets. Giant glass greenhouses loomed behind walls, filled with every variety of flower and fruit. One block would be heady with the scent of vanilla or citrus, while the next was overpowering manure. Finally, though, we made it to the park I’d been angling for. I stopped and gave it a look around, just to make sure it was the right place.

  Seemed good.

  Although it didn’t look like when I’d last seen it. There were definitely some, uh, marks of my passing. The center of the park was quite charred and something of a crater.

  “This what you were looking for?” Klara asked.

  I nodded, and proceeding carefully toward the hole.

  “It wasn’t like this when I left,” I said. “I mean, it was on fire, but it hadn’t, you know—“

  “Collapsed?”

  “Right.”

  There wasn’t any sort of fencing up to keep people back. I suppose that made sense — if you fell in the pit, it was your own damn fault.

  Klara walked into the park with a little more care than I had. She scanned the environment, and after a minute, seeing only the few birds and a pair of feuding squirrels, she decided it was safe. She stopped well short of the cave-in area, knelt down, and peered at the charred remains of the secret lair below.

  “What was this place?” she asked.

  “Secret lair of the Iron Silents,” I said. “They, uh, killed me, repeatedly over in there. Probably quite a few others. And they summoned demons. So, it might be—“

  “Dangerous.”

  “Right.”

  “Any place that has been tainted by demons is a place demons can get to once again.”

  “I killed the demon they summoned.”

  “And left it in there?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I would advise we leave this place immediately.”

  “I want to see if there’s anything left down there.”

  “That would not be wise.”

  “Noted, but—“

  “You’re going anyway?”

  “I think I need to.”

  She sighed, stood back up, and gestured that I should go first.

  I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to go inside. Just, well, I didn’t really know what else to do. Or what I was doing. This was the last place I had concrete information the Iron Silents operated, so, this was the only place I could think to visit and investigate. And, frankly, I was more than a little curious now that Klara had warned me about the potential dangers of the place. I mean, how could you tell someone that there were cool, potentially dangerous demons downstairs, and then be like, ‘no don’t go down there?’ That’ll never work.

  I made a quick circle of the caved-in area to get a better idea where things were. The exit, or at least where I’d exited, was off to one side, behind some bushes. There were some charred remnants around the exit hole, but no cave-ins. I opened the secret exit and peered inside. It was dark. At least until I flipped into darkvision. Then I saw it was full of dirt, and that the walls were burnt. No feet had disturbed the dirt and dust, and no one had tried to clean the fallen dirt. This was untouched. And also impassible.

  I walked back out to look into the main hole again. Nothing moved, and a rank smell wafted out any time the wind died down.

  I took a quick step into the crater, and felt my boots sunk into the burned wet soil. I started to slide.

  Klara grabbed my shoulder, and hauled me back onto the firmer soil above.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Want to rethink going down there?” she asked.

  “Uh, maybe.”

  She just nodded at me.

  I sighed, got to my feet, and brushed the dirt off my butt.

  “What is it you’re looking for down there?” Klara asked.

  “Something to point to where the Iron Silents are,” I replied. “We’re at such a disadvantage.”

  “Maybe you should find out who owns this land,” she said.

  “Oh. Huh. That would probably be a good idea.”

  She just gave me a look, and shook her head.

  I started walking, getting my brain going on where I might find information about deeds and land ownership. But then I realized that was a pointless endeavor, because there was really only one place to go when you needed to know something about Glaton.

  Chapter Seventeen

  We hopped in a carriage and headed all the way back to the northwestern part of the city, right at the edge of the Enderrun school, and we waited outside the Ministry of Information. Once inside, we trudged all the way upstairs until we came to a familiar door in a familiar hall.

  “Who is this guy?” Klara asked.

  “He’s someone who knows things,” I replied. “I’m hoping he’ll know where I can get records that show who owns what in the city.”

  “Ah.”

  I knocked on the door.

  For a moment, concern washed over me that I was going to look like a fool in front of Klara. Which I shouldn’t have been concerned about, and not just because she was, technically, an employee of mine. I shouldn’t have been concerned because that was shortsighted. I was doing my best to push myself to
improve. Ever so slowly.

  An awkward minute passed before someone opened the door a slight crack, and a friendly face peeked out.

  “Kobold elf!” the man shouted, flinging the door open.

  Academic and scallywag Dunt Pomeroy looked significantly better than the last time I’d seen him. He had a healthy color to his face, his hands weren’t shaking, and maybe most importantly, it appeared he’d shaved and taken a bath in recent memory.

  “Come in, my friend,” he said, and basically pulled me into his office.

  Klara followed behind me and shut the door.

  Pomeroy continued to guide me over to one of his comfy chairs, and pushed me into it.

  “Brandy?” he asked.

  “Uh, are you—“

  “I would have tried to get in touch with you,” Pomeroy said, talking right over me. “But some very interesting things have been happening here, and I think most of it is thanks to you.”

  “I— wait, what?” I asked.

  He sloshed some amber liquid form a crystal decanter into a small cup, plopped a single large ice cube into it, and walked over and set it in my hand. Then, he sat down across from me, and clinked the glass he’d made for himself into mine.

  “To you, you fine elf,” he said.

  He tossed back the slug of brandy. Which, if you were going to do that, why bother with the ice cube? I gave the glass a sniff, then set it to the side.

  Pomeroy let out a satisfied sigh, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Oh,” he said, finally looking around the room, “you are not alone.”

  “No, I, uh, this is Klara. She’s a friend of mine, and--“

  “I am in his tjene,” she said, with a slight bow of her head.

  “Oh my,” Pomeroy said, raising his eyebrows as he looked at me. “I did not realize you were from Carchedon. It does tend to make it a bit clearer why you had so many questions about normal things in the Empire. But, still, how are you here? Are you safe? Am I, or, rather, are you a spy— I am rambling again, are I not? I can tell by the look in your eye that I am rambling and off topic, and I do apologize. It has been exciting times since you, uh, does she know what, uh— wait, what am I saying? Of course she does. Tjene, she knows everything. Is she, I probably should not ask that, it is impolite, but I am just so curious, would you mind if—“

  I threw the ice cube at him.

  Pomeroy sputtered as he tried to block it, but somehow wound up getting it down his own collar. Which caused him to jump up and dance around until the ice cube dropped out of the bottom of his trousers and clattered across the stone floor.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I probably needed that.”

  “Are you drunk?” I asked.

  “Perhaps just a little. It has been a most exciting day.”

  “Care to share?”

  “You see, I have been appointed the head of a new division,” Pomeroy said, almost dancing around. I was a little worried he was going to stop on the ice and fall. “And I daresay it is all because of you, dear boy.”

  “That other asshole was going to get the spot, and so—“

  “Yes, well, slightly? Perhaps. I think it is more to say that because of his, let us call it morally ambiguous overzealousness, there were quite a few things that had been institutionally halted. He had stuck his fingers in a lot of pies, and most of them had gotten held up or pushed to the side. The Academy was starting to worry there was a full-blown demonic invasion happening, so common were the, well, what you halted last time. It just kept happening. People were discovered with banned materials, and many of my coworkers were thrown into prison. Your intervention, however, has forced the Enderrun to reexamine these cases. Quite a bit of reinstatement is happening. And, thus, positions are vacated and filled again quite quickly. It is all very exciting, and—“

  “Do I need to get another ice cube?” I warned.

  “What? I mean, you might if you want, but, oh, yes. I see what you are implying. I think the answer is no. Just a friendly reminder that I have lost the caravan and started to ramble, which I see I have already done. Apologies. Again. My manners. Would you, miss Tjene member, would you like a drink as well?”

  “No thank you,” Klara said, standing near the door with her back to the wall.

  “Right, yes, on guard. I see that—“

  “Pomeroy,” I said sharply, “what’s the new position?”

  “I am, well, perhaps you know of my interest in archaeology. Uncovering the past and whatnot—“

  “I actually did not.”

  “Well, now you do. I am going to be in charge of Enderrun expeditions throughout the Empire. Perhaps beyond — that is not clear yet, and it depends largely on whether we are at war with anyone, I would imagine. Are we at war with anyone? Likely. That seems to be a common occurrence with the Empire, but I suppose that might be good for me if they come across new ruins in recently conquered lands. New ruins. Now there is a funny phrase. When are ruins new? Or old? Ha, I am just so very excited about—“

  “Are you going to start with the ruins under the city?”

  “What is that?” he asked. “Ruins under what city?”

  “This city. Glaton. Capital of the Empire.”

  “There are no ruins below this city.”

  “Yeah there are. I’ve seen them.”

  “What do you mean you have seen them? It is not possible — there is nothing there.”

  “Below the sewers, there’s another city. Or the remains of one.”

  “Below the sewers? And just how did you get below the sewers? I was not aware there was anything below the sewers. Just, well, rock all the way down.”

  “Nope. There’s a big weird ruined city with some cannibalistic creatures running around.”

  “I— are you quite sure?”

  “Yeah. I can even connect you with a second witness, if you want. Or more, really. Depending on your desire to meet some kobolds.”

  “I would actually like to meet kobolds. I’ve never met one. Fascinating creatures. Have you heard of their—“

  I put a hand up. “I’m actually here for a reason.”

  “Yes, the ruins under the city, right?”

  “No.”

  “But—“

  “I need to know how to find out who owns a particular piece of land.”

  “Where?”

  “In Glaton.”

  “You are not in the right building for that, my dear elf.”

  “Okay, where do I go?”

  “One place to go would be the Ministry of Taxation. Or the Ministry of Vexation as some of us like to call it. Always a bit of a bear having to pay taxes, right?”

  “Sure. Is there somewhere else?”

  “You could just as easily visit the Offices of Planning and Development in the City Building.”

  “There’s a City Building?”

  “Sure. Why would there not be? How else might you govern a city like this?”

  “Is it a hall? Would you call it City Hall?”

  “You could, I suppose, but it is more like a building. There’s no real hall to it. Perhaps in a smaller town, it might do to have a hall-like structure for town meetings and the like, but I doubt there is a building large enough to hold all the citizens of Glaton. And, even if there was, can you imagine the issues with having so many beings inside one structure? Condensation would likely cause it to rain. And how would anyone hear? No, a city hall is a ludicrous idea. Town hall, maybe. Hamlet hall, certainly. Villages as well. Cities, no—“

  “Where is the City Building?”

  “It is across the avenue from the Senate building.”

  “Thank you, Pomeroy,” I said.

  “The kobolds?” He asked. “Can I speak with them?”

  “Come to the Heavy Purse,” I said. “Ask for me there.”

  “Clyde Hatchett, yes?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Excellent. I will do that. Right away. Well, perhaps not right away, I still have things to do
here, and I would imagine you will not be going there directly will you? You will be heading to the city building. Or the Ministry of Taxation. Perhaps both. Though I would start with the city building, the Department of Planning. Taxation has land records for the entire Empire, and that can get especially messy. Quite lengthy wait times there. Now that I think of it, where is this Heavy Purse? And what is it?”

  “A tavern in Old Town. A few blocks from the northeastern gates.”

  “Old Town? How exciting. I cannot remember the last time--“

  “It has been a pleasure meeting you,” Klara said firmly, opening the door and stepping into the hall.

  “Yes, right,” Pomeroy said.

  “Thanks again,” I said, getting up quickly and walking through the door.

  Klara just shook her head, and shut the door before Pomeroy could start talking again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  We stopped for a bite at a food cart close to the Ministry of Taxes. Which made me consider, for a moment, just starting there, since it would be so easy. But this was a city matter, and I imagined it might get a bit stickier in the tax area. I didn’t want anyone to ask me to somehow prove my citizenship. Or ask about Klara. Which made me want to ask if there was a look to those from Carchedon.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “You think I look like I’m from Carchedon?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “That’s why I’m asking.”

  “I’m not from Carchedon,” she said. “But I would be hard pressed to point to anyone and say, ‘that’s the look of a Carchedonian.’”

  “Where are you from? I mean, I thought—“

  “You thought because I was given to you by the heir to the Carchedonian throne that I would be Carchedonian?