Four
Pelaru the whispermonger lived on the most exclusive of Timberjack Falls’ three islands. Frey and his companions were taken there by motorised carriage, after first picking up their delivery from the Ketty Jay. The bridge guards eyed the scruffy passengers suspiciously as they approached the gates to the island, but they knew Pelaru’s man and waved them through.
The villa was set back from a woody lane on a steep hill. Evergreens rustled in the night; nocturnal animals chirruped and hooted from the undergrowth. The carriage was met at the entrance to the grounds by several men who checked Frey and his crew for weapons. After that, they were taken up a sharply sloping drive which wound past ornamental rock pools and skeletal arbours to the house itself.
The villa was designed in what Frey vaguely recognised as a foreign style, adorned with domes and porticoes. It was asymmetrical to accommodate the rise in the land, and surrounded by multi-layered gardens containing fountains and sculptures bizarre to his eye. A summer place, built for warmer times. On a still winter night in Aulenfay, it just looked bleak.
Pelaru was waiting for them outside the main door, along with a pair of discreetly armed bodyguards. He was a tall, straight-backed man in his thirties, with the statuesque, arrogant features typical of Thacians. He had olive skin and neat black hair, and was wearing fashionable trousers and a waistcoat that looked far too light for the weather.
The carriage pulled to a stop and Frey stepped down from the passenger seat. Pelaru walked over to greet him.
‘Captain Frey,’ he began, in the lilting accent of his people. ‘It’s my pleasure to-’
He trailed off as he caught sight of something over Frey’s shoulder. Frey looked back, following his gaze to the carriage. Malvery and Silo were climbing down, but it wasn’t them he was staring at. It was Jez. And Jez was staring at him, an intense, mesmerised stare, and oh, damn it her eyes were shining in the moonlight.
I knew I shouldn’t have brought her.
‘You want to see your payment?’ Frey prompted quickly, to distract him. ‘Silo, Malvery, show the man what we brought him.’
Pelaru seemed to notice he was there again. ‘Ah, er. . Forgive me, I don’t seem to be. . quite myself tonight.’ He shook it off and focused. ‘Captain Frey, we must talk. Walk with me.’
‘Don’t you, er. . the relics, though?’ Frey motioned towards the heavy chest which Silo and Malvery were manhandling out of the trunk.
‘Ah, yes, the relics,’ said Pelaru, not in the least bit interested. He put his hand on Frey’s arm and steered him away. ‘Come. We have things to discuss.’ He took one last look at Jez, who’d evidently unsettled him, and then led Frey towards the side of the villa, leaving Malvery and Silo holding the chest between them.
‘Oi!’ Malvery yelled after them. ‘What are we supposed to do with this?’
Frey gave him a helpless shrug. Your guess is as good as mine.
‘Well, that’s just great,’ Malvery grumbled. He was sobering up and getting ratty. Frey winced as he dumped his side of the chest on the ground. The crash that followed probably halved the value of its contents.
He followed Pelaru along a path through the courtyards and round to the back of the villa. The whispermonger seemed deep in thought. Frey hoped he hadn’t been too disturbed by the sight of Jez. He’d known she might be a risk, but he’d needed her along in case things went bad. They might not be able to carry weapons into a whispermonger’s house, but Jez was a weapon herself.
Behind the house was a tiered cliff garden overlooking the vast, rushing river. The sound of the falls was loud, rumble and hiss, and when the wind blew against him Frey could feel water mist on his face. He could see another island half a klom away, a black hump in the water, dotted with friendly lights.
Out here, it was hard to imagine there was a civil war going on at all. But the war was young, and Vardia was vast. Frey wondered how long it would be before it reached even remote spots like Timberjack Falls.
Pelaru walked to the edge of the garden, where a twisted metal railing guarded against the drop. Frey joined him warily. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew one thing: if the whispermonger tried to pitch him over that cliff, he was bloody well coming too.
‘There a problem?’ he asked. ‘I thought we had a deal.’
‘We did,’ said Pelaru. His face was impassive and serene as he gazed out across the water. ‘I’m changing it.’
‘You’re changing it,’ said Frey flatly.
‘Yes.’
Frey looked out over the vista and took a long breath. The beauty of his surroundings did little to calm the anger boiling up inside him. The whole reason he’d started dealing with high-level people was to avoid situations like this. He’d had enough of betrayals.
‘You’re a whispermonger,’ he said. ‘A whispermonger. You’re expensive as gold-plated cowshit and you live and die on your reputation. That means you don’t spread secrets you aren’t paid for, and you don’t change deals.’
‘I think my reputation will survive one disgruntled freebooter,’ Pelaru said. ‘But for all that, I am sorry. It is necessary.’
His infuriating calm broke through Frey’s last shreds of restraint. ‘Necessary?’ he shouted. ‘I couldn’t give half a damn about necessary! Tell me where she is!’
His voice rang out into the night and was swallowed by the churning waters. He shut his mouth, feeling suddenly exposed. Had his crew heard that on the other side of the house? Had Jez, with her inhuman perception?
As far as any of them knew, he was busy locating their next target, just like he’d located the last. In a way, they were right. But the target wasn’t what they imagined.
It wasn’t riches he was hunting. It was Trinica Dracken.
Pelaru was studying him with new interest after his outburst. ‘She means a great deal to you,’ he observed. ‘I didn’t see that before.’
Frey gave him a hateful glare, then turned his head and spat over the railing. He’d given himself away. She’d always had the power to make him do that.
‘She owes me money,’ he lied.
Pelaru didn’t say anything.
‘What do you want?’ Frey asked at length.
‘You can keep the relics,’ said Pelaru. ‘Sell them as you wish. Instead, I want your help. If you play this right, you’ll not only come away with the information you seek, you’ll be a great deal richer.’
‘Or I could just go to another whispermonger,’ said Frey.
‘You could,’ said the Thacian. ‘You could give up the money you’ve already paid me and leave. But Trinica Dracken is a hard woman to find. She is a pirate, after all, with a hefty price on her head. Suffice to say there was a certain amount of good fortune involved in tracking her down. Another whispermonger might take longer than I did. By then, she may be somewhere you’ll never find her.’ He turned his pale green eyes on Frey. ‘I suspect you don’t want to take that risk.’
He suspected right. The past three months had been dedicated to the search for her, even if the crew weren’t aware of it. But Trinica could be anywhere in the known world by now, and having a civil war to deal with didn’t help. His chances of finding her by chasing rumours were close to zero. That was why he’d employed Pelaru.
Since they returned from Samarla, every score had been made to bring them closer to this moment. First he had to raise the money to set Pelaru on the trail. Then he’d paid a different whispermonger for the tip-off on their last job, in order to get the remainder of Pelaru’s fee. He’d done it right, damn it, he’d done everything right! But now this. And three months was already too long.