She nodded once, and then he was gone.
Én’nish watched for anyone familiar among the crowds on the second pier.
Leesil pressed on behind Magiere and Chap, and pulled Wayfarer along as he studied their surroundings. When they reached the waterfront, he spotted a floating walkway along the rock wall beneath the piers. Between every other pier post were switchback ramps and ladders leading upward from lower floating platforms for small boats.
With little choice, they pushed through the throngs until their group reached the city’s edge. A few streets in, they left the thickened masses behind for more sparse passersby in the growing dusk. Wayfarer had kept pressing up behind him along the way, but now she peered about, a little more curious.
“Better now?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said barely loudly enough to hear.
Chap watched everywhere as well, turning all the way around at least once. It was pretty clear to Leesil that the dog was less than pleased.
—Which—way—now—
Leesil took a breath to remember Wynn’s instructions. “Inland a few blocks and then to the left.”
The farther they went, the fewer people they saw, and after a little while this began to concern Leesil. Where was Wynn sending them? It was getting darker, and once they made the left, within a block and a half down a poorly cobbled street they passed only hard-looking, worn women in faded, low-cut gowns, sailors swilling from clay bottles, and a mix of what might have been merchants, both prosperous and shabby.
Leesil kept an eye on both sides of the street and noted eateries, taverns, and inns along the way. There was little to tell by the bland and dilapidated buildings, but he had an idea of what kind of illicit endeavors went on behind those closed doors. This was the hinterland between merchant and laborer districts, always the same in any city.
It was just darker and dingier than most he remembered. He had a hard time picturing what had brought Wynn of all people here. Looking ahead, he quickened his pace, nearly passing Magiere.
“I think that’s it.”
Beyond the next intersection, on its far left corner, stood a large, well-situated three-story building that covered a fourth of the next block. Its blue paint, at a guess in the dark, didn’t look too badly cracked, but the white shutters—around iron grates over the windows—were stained and filthy.
Leesil didn’t like the look of this. What was hard to break into was also hard to get out of in a hurry.
The building sported a sweeping ground-level terrace with two armed and lightly armored guards by the front columns. He took their measure.
Their leather outer tunics didn’t hide the chain shirts beneath. Though properly closed, the tunics were both worn in a loose fit. The guards hadn’t limited their mobility for the sake of appearances. They wore their swords low rather than cinched up to their belts. They were both ex-military or experienced mercenaries.
Well, Wynn was right about one thing: if this place hired such, it wouldn’t be cheap.
Both guards were watchful but relaxed as the quintet approached. A white sign above the door held one gilded word in Numanese: DELILAH’S.
“May we pass and take rooms?” Brot’an asked, never ceasing to amaze Leesil with how polite and harmless he could sound. If those guards only knew the truth about what was walking into their establishment.
“By all means,” one said. “Please see Mechaela at the front desk.”
Leesil hesitated again, and then Chap huffed and started for the front door.
Én’nish had trouble controlling herself as she silently slipped along rooftops to follow her quarry. The sight of Léshil and the traitor was almost too much for her.
She took note of their number: five in total, with Magiere, Leanâlhâm, and the majay-hì. Neither Osha nor the little human sage appeared to have caught up. This was useful and preferred: the fewer, the better. The necessary targets were present, and Brot’ân’duivé was the only anmaglâhk.
Én’nish kept well behind, fearing that the greimasg’äh might sense her, but she did not let them out of her sight. Not far into the city, they approached a three-story building with worn sky blue planking and soiled white shutters. Én’nish hesitated at the sight of iron grates across all of the windows.
The guards out front mattered little compared to those. The place was large and extravagant ... and fortified.
Her team had chosen a tiny hole of an inn where they might vanish. Yet this place would not be so easily invaded, and likely not in stealth. She waited as the quintet stopped, all gazing upward. Finally the majay-hì took the lead toward the door.
Én’nish lingered until they entered and then fled through the night on her way to report to Fréthfâre.
Chapter Twenty-one
As he passed between the two guards, Chap was somewhat hesitant, wondering what kind of place Wynn had sent them to. But Leesil moved out ahead, opened the door to Delilah’s, and pulled Wayfarer inside.
Upon stepping through the doorway, Chap found himself standing on a huge deep brown oval rug with a border pattern of white flowers. The foyer walls were a rich shade of cream, and dark amber curtains framed the grated windows from the polished wood floor to the high ceiling. Soft tones of a skillfully played flute floated from somewhere unseen, and the air smelled lightly of sandalwood.
“Oh ... oh, no!” Magiere whispered, jabbing Leesil in the back. “Do you know how much this is going to cost?”
Leesil frowned as Wayfarer glanced up at Magiere in confusion.
Chap glanced left at a solid walnut counter with gold inlay. Behind it, a young man in a white linen shirt and black satin vestment looked expectantly their way. Chap heard Wayfarer whispering to Leesil.
“He looks like ... like ...”
The young man had the look of Wynn, with an oval face of olive-toned skin and light brown eyes and hair to match.
“May I help you?” he asked. “I am Mechaela. What do you seek this evening?”
The question was oddly phrased. What would travelers seek here but lodging? Two men dressed similarly to Mechaela passed by into a wide parlor on the right. Neither was armed, and Chap stepped forward to peer after them.
Low, plushy padded couches around small tables bearing glass or crystal vases with fresh flowers filled the room. On the walls were painted seascapes of detailed clarity, and he spotted another archway opening into another room at the chamber’s far side.
Therein, four well-dressed men sat playing cards at a polished black table, while a tall, lovely woman circled them and poured wine. Her gown of layered gauze was ... a bit too revealing.
What kind of place was this?
“We would like two rooms,” Brot’an said, striding to the counter.
“Of course,” Mechaela answered, picking up a quill and opening a very large black book.
Chap was more aware of their financial situation than Leesil or Magiere realized. They had coin, but they also had to make it last. A few nights here would take a sizable stack.
After scribbling whatever names Brot’an gave, Mechaela looked all of them over.
“You will need to relinquish your weapons while inside the establishment,” he said politely. “You can retrieve and return them upon coming and going.”
Magiere stared at him. “I don’t think—”
“That is acceptable,” Brot’an cut in, and he pulled a small pouch out of his shirt.
Chap had never seen this before. So, the old assassin carried some coins. How he had acquired such was better left alone.