The dwarves of House Kundarak were responsible for running Dreadhold, but while most of the prison staff were members of the House, many-like Tresslar-were not.
"I must admit, I did have occasion to double-check their work from time to time," Tresslar said, trying to sound more modest than he felt. A sudden realization hit him then, and he forgot all about the artificers of Dreadhold. "You're being nice to us."
Illyia laughed. "Why do you find that so surprising?"
"Up until this point, we haven't had the warmest of welcomes here in Kolbyr," Tresslar said.
Illyia's merriment ebbed and she grew serious. "I'm afraid you've experienced the effects of the curse that plagues our city. We call it the Fury."
"It hasn't seemed to have affected you," Hinto said.
"It's her dress," Solus said. "It radiates a field of mystic energy that protects her from the curse's effect."
Illyia spread her arms and slowly spun around, as if modeling her dress for them. "Stylish and practical, that's me."
"Indeed," Tresslar said with appreciation. "It's a most impressive piece of work."
Hinto groaned, and it took all of Tresslar's self-discipline to keep the artificer from striking the halfling.
"The Fury is like the weather," Illyia said. "Some days it's worse than others. On mild days people are merely more rude and brusque, but on bad days people brawl in the streets. On extremely bad days, the streets run red with spilled blood. We don't leave our homes on bad days and try to avoid contact with anyone else, lest we find ourselves in the grip of a murderous fury."
"It sounds awful!" Hinto said. "How can you live with it?"
Illyia shrugged. "If you grow up in Kolbyr, as I have, you become accustomed to it. The effects of the curse are manageable, though it does take some effort to resist them. Newcomers to the city, such as yourselves, are the most vulnerable to the Fury. Since they aren't local, there's less reason for citizens to care about not harming them, which makes it more difficult to resist the Fury. Newcomers aren't affected by the curse right away, but the Fury is both powerful and insidious. Over the space of just a few hours, it will slowly worm its way into your heart without your realizing it, and it will fill you with anger… anger that you have no experience at managing. Newcomers often succumb to the Fury within their first day in Kolbyr. It's why we're so leery of strangers, as I'm sure you noticed as you made your way through the city."
Tresslar didn't feel any anger building within him. All he felt was the general irritation he often experienced at the annoyances presented by day-to-day living. Was Solus-?
The psiforged's voice whispered in Tresslar's mind.
I cannot counter magic, but as we first approached Kolbyr, I used my psionic abilities to strengthen everyone's emotional self-control to help slow the effects of the Fury. So far, my efforts seem to have been successful.
Tresslar's first impulse was to chide the psiforged for altering people's minds without permission, but he decided not to worry about it, especially since it did appear to be working. Still, before long someone would need to explain to Solus that it was a good idea to ask before using his psionic powers in such a fashion-especially on friends.
Illyia frowned slightly, and Tresslar wondered if she were somehow aware of the telepathic communication that had occurred between Solus and him. But when she spoke, she said, "So, have you come to acquire one of my sculptures, or are you perhaps here for a different purpose?"
"We're friends of Tinker," Tresslar said.
"Tinker?" Hinto said, scowling. "Who's…?" He trailed off, a sly smile coming onto his face. "Oh… right." He winked knowingly at Tresslar.
Now it was the artificer's turn to roll his eyes.
Illyia laughed. "Come with me, and we'll see if Tinker is home."
She turned and, for the briefest of instants, Tresslar thought the bubbles of her gown turned transparent. But before he could get a good look at what lay beneath, the bubbles returned to their blue-green hue.
Illyia headed toward a door at the back of the shop, walking with perhaps a bit more sway in her hips than was strictly necessary, and Tresslar, Hinto, and Solus followed. Suddenly Kolbyr-curse or no curse-didn't seem like all that bad a place to the artificer.
Not bad at all.
Yvka stood across the street from a two-story building decorated with elaborate stonework. Intricate designs of sea creatures had been carved into the building's face, a quartet of granite gargoyles perched upon the roof, and a pair of manticore statues flanked a huge oak door at the top of marble steps. Casual passersby would appreciate the building's beauty, but few would realize that, should the need arise, the gargoyles and the manticores would come to swift and deadly life.
There was no sign to indicate the name or even the nature of this establishment, but then none was necessary. Only those who already knew of the Culinarian sought it out, and few of those were permitted entrance. And of and those who got inside, even fewer knew the restaurant's true nature.
Though Yvka hadn't let on to her companions, this wasn't her first time in Kolbyr. She had no specific reason for not telling them the truth, and she wasn't sure why she'd kept that information from them, and especially from Ghaji. Habit, she supposed. By necessity, operatives of the Shadow Network lived by a strict code of secrecy, but living by that code came with a price. Operatives couldn't afford to get too close to anyone, even other members of the Network. Stay silent, stay guarded, stay alone, stay safe. That was an operative's motto, and while Yvka had never come out and directly admitted to belonging to the Network, her friends knew the truth. That was why she stood out here hesitating. It was possible-no, almost certain-that the man she had come here to see was aware she'd become too close to Ghaji, Diran, and the others. The question was what, if anything, he planned to do about it.
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and started across the street.
She walked casually, seeming relaxed and comfortable, but inside she was tense and alert. As she approached the stairs, she had to force herself not to look at the gargoyles and manticores. She could feel their cold stone eyes upon her, and though she knew it was probably her imagination, she sensed displeasure in their gazes, as if even the guardians knew of her failure to remain detached and professional.
She reached the steps, ascended them, and stopped before the oak door. There was no knob, no handle, no device for signaling those inside. Yvka simply stood there, and after several moments-a bit longer than strictly necessary, she thought-the door swung inward, and Yvka stepped inside. She found herself standing at the end of a narrow corridor lit by tiny everbright lanterns hovering close to the curved ceiling. The lanterns gave off a soft blue light that only dimly illuminated the way, but they provided more than enough light for elvish eyes to see by. Yvka started down the corridor, and she didn't look back as she heard the door close behind her with a gentle snick that sounded all too final to her ears. No one came forward to greet her, but that was normal here. If the door opened for you, you already knew you were welcome in the Culinarian.
The corridor ran straight for a few dozen yards before opening onto a vast dining hall. The hall was illuminated by cerulean everbright lanterns floating in the air to simulate an underwater environment, and saltwater aquariums filled with exotic sea creatures were placed in various locations around the hall to further enhance the illusion. A long table constructed from coral stretched the length of the hall, and spread out on its craggy surface was a buffet of seafood dishes: lobster, shrimp, squid, crab, clams, mussels, mullet, salmon, scampi, prawns, grouper, conch, blowfish, octopus, halibut, monkfish, and many more. Dishes were served raw, baked, broiled, and fried, along with a wide assortment of vegetables.