The last rays of the sun turned the walls and rooftops of the Wood a golden-orange hue. Dappled shadows from the trees lining the streets gave everything a soft, almost woodland look. Vash sat on the stoop of the Temple and watched as families called to one another, workers closed up shop, and friends debated which tavern they were going to spend that day’s wages. Every one of them was a part-blood like him.

And I’m taking on the job of protecting them. Vash thought, the short sword and long-knife hung with comfortable weight beneath his robe. Ionae hadn’t shown him much in the last few days, but she had wanted him prepared. It had taken more time than she had thought, her contact had been out of the city, so tonight had stretched into almost a week.

“Dannil finally came through.” Ionae had told him at dinner, leaning close while Byar was busy with one of the acolytes. Byar was giving the young man detailed instructions, hammering home points over and over. He had seemed on edge ever since Vash had told him about the disappearances.

“So, it’s tonight then?” Vash whispered.

“What’s tonight?” Jakus had stage-whispered back to the two of them.

“Nothing that concerns you, whelp.” Ionae said with a mocking grin.

“Is it a secret?” He asked, eyes brightening. “I love secrets.”

“And you can’t keep one worth a damn.” Ionae admonished. “It’s something for me and Vash, leave it at that.”

Jakus made a face but turned back to his soup.

“When do we go?” Vash asked.

“Sundown, I want to meet up with Dannil before twilight fades.” Ionae said. “Make sure you’re kitted out like I showed you.”

Vash had done as she asked, beneath the robe he wore Eth Mitaan leathers. Some panels had been alchemically treated so that the soft leather was hard enough to deflect a knife. Stiff panels over his kidneys, along the insides of his legs, and a few in different places over his chest and stomach. They allowed for free movement but would at least provide a measure of protection. He had also procured a Troublemaker’s pouch. A large belt pouch with various implements of the rogue’s trade. Finally, he had strapped his small sword and long-knife to his legs. They hung in easy reach beneath the robes. Ionae had procured for him a small punch-dagger and sheath to wear beneath his wrist.

It’s best to have a weapon you can use without doffing the robes. Ionae had explained. For the quick and quiet work.

The shadows were getting longer, and the streets were beginning to empty. A few passersby shot looks down at the Temple. Vash tried smiling at them, but they quickly looked away and hurried by. Not for the first time, he was unsure that Byar’s method of protection was appreciated among the people.

“All right.” A voice called from behind him. “Enough lazing about. We’ve got a mystery to solve.”

Ionae almost skipped down the Temple steps. She looked him over and frowned. Reaching out she adjusted his robe a few times and then nodded to herself. “The whole point of a disguise is so that people don’t notice the arsenal we’re carting across the city.”

“Suitably inconspicuous now?” Vash asked when she finally stepped back.

“You’ll do, just try and walk normally. It will take some time to get used to weapons but try not to think about it.” Ionae said. “C’mon, let’s get moving.”

They set off at a quick pace, taking a different route than Vash had gotten used to. “We’re not taking the bridge?” He asked as they turned away from the bridge into Riverside and took a side street that cut across the Wood to the southeast.

Ionae shook her head. “It’s faster to take Drover’s Court. We’d have had to walk the length of Riverside and then cut across the Lake District if we went that way. Drover’s Court will drop us off next to the Mermaid’s Regret, that’s where Dannil is meeting us.”

“And who is this Dannil?” Vash asked as they walked briskly down one of the quiet side streets.

“Friend of mine.” Ionae shrugged. “Used to run with the Marsh Lords a while back, they were a pirate gang that hit ships that traveled too close to the Willowmarsh swamps. Green-and-Whites broke them up about five years back and Dannil started sailing for honest coin. He knows all the channels near the Willowmarsh so he’s in demand as a pilot’s mate. He also helps captains avoid the Baron’s custom’s officers, so he still has some connections in the Lake District. If there’s something to find out, he’ll know who to ask.”

“Were you two…close?” Vash heard himself ask, then felt the blooms of heat in his cheeks.

Ionae laughed. “Close enough for him to owe me a favor or two.”

They walked in silence for a time, passing beneath a stone archway that signified the end of the Wood and the beginning of Drover’s Court. Tree-lined streets gave way to drab buildings, mostly stables and warehouses. There was activity, even as twilight began to settle over the city. Grooms were seeing to horses, and cargo was being shifted and tallied. Vash noticed that most of the grooms were part-elves.

“We have a reputation for being good with animals.” Ionae said, noticing his stare. “Some of us actually have a Talent for it, one of the perks of being part-blood, got a little bit of that magic from mom or dad.”

“Are we really magic?” Vash asked. “I keep hearing from elani that we are, but I never noticed anything magic about me.”

“The humans have a tendency to exaggerate.” Ionae said. “Most elves, Vanan anyways, have some talent for magic. Almost every Vanan family has a Talent that they’re born with. Like those grooms, more than likely their sires came from the Vanan Cadwyr, the Rangers, they’re the ones with the Talent for animals. I’ve seen the first generation get of a Cadwyr bed down with wolves like they were damn puppies.”

“My father was a Ranger, but animals don’t seem to like me any more than people do.” Vash shrugged.

“Elani have the unfortunate habit of calling any elf they see coming out of the Wayward Forest a ‘Ranger’. The Vanan are just as diverse as elani when it comes to skills and jobs. They just play all their cards close to their chest. Keep working with Jakus on your language skills, the book that Byar gave you will fill in a lot of gaps.” Ionae said. “As for your lineage, I’m betting that you didn’t end up coming to the House of Kyrinos by accident.”

“Yeah?” Vash asked with a grin. “How so?”

Ionae shrugged. “I’ve seen too much to put much faith in blind chance. The Lord of Hunts and Hunters knows his own, and I’m willing to bet your father wasn’t some tree-loving Cadwyr.”

Vash pondered this as they followed the twisty back-alleys of Drover’s Court. Ionae was taking them off the main roads, with darkness descending they no longer saw the everyday folk of Sothsford. In the dimly lit, narrow corridors of stone and wood there were beggars aplenty, looking for a comfortable place to bed down. Once they ran across a group of rough-looking men, their leader had simply shaken his head when his men had started to make a move. Ionae had nodded in respect, but had not broken her stride, and Vash knew those men likely wouldn’t have slowed her down either.

The smell of dead fish and dampness grew in intensity as the warehouses of Drover’s Court began to thin, giving way to the tall, narrow buildings of the Lake District. People started appearing, a drunk sailor with a bored looking whore on his arm, a cluster of dockworkers making their way home. The part-elves in their gray monastic robes drew a few curious glances, but everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves.

They headed towards the eastern edge of the district, which formed a crescent along the shore of Lake Estria. The river Obrun bisected the district. The western side had the deep-water berths and could cater to the large ships from Vanan Esain, Patria, and other southern kingdoms. The Obrun dumped its silt on the eastern side, which lead to smaller skiffs and barges that plied the shallows and coastline routes. As a result, most of the legitimate trade was on the west, and the smugglers and pirates tended to dock on the eastern side. Even if Dannil was in an honest trade, as Ionae had said, Vash felt certain that just meant he wasn’t working directly for pirates anymore.

Ionae was moving much more carefully now, head on a swivel, careful not to make lingering eye-contact, focused forward. Vash kept close, wondering how much he should be worried. “Think there will be trouble?”

“Probably not.” Ionae said with a shake of her head. “But it’s always good to keep your wits about you when you’re outside your own territory.”

Vash kept his eyes open for details as they walked. He recognized the forearm tattoos of the Black Diamonds on a few men who were gathered around a barrel tossing dice and smoking pungent cigars. He saw several folk with the double-earring that signified having taken a ship by force, likely marsh pirates. Most ignored them, but Vash caught a few frowns of disapproval. The eastern Lake District didn’t technically belong to any one faction and was supposed to operate like a neutral territory, but that didn’t mean the Eth Mitaan were welcome.

“There’s the Mermaid’s Regret.” Ionae said, at last, nodding towards a small, lively tavern with a shingle of a weeping mermaid. “Dannil said to meet him around back.”

“Why not in the bar?” Vash asked, confused.

“You’re getting your letters, what’s that sign say?” Ionae asked, indicating a placard by the doorway.

Vash looked at the characters and puzzled out the words, slowly. “No Subhumans.” He felt his lip curl in distaste. The Temple priest in Durron’s Ford had used the same term to refer to elves, dwarves, and the other non-human heritages. Vash had since learned that it was part of a non-standard Temple doctrine that placed the elani as the first creations of the gods and all other man-like creatures were a corruption of that form.

“It’s infuriating, but Dannil gets a good rate when he stays there, and we don’t want to cause trouble.” Ionae said, gesturing for Vash to follow.

Around back of the Mermaid’s Regret was a small courtyard. It had likely been used for horses and wagons in the past, but now just seemed to be a quiet place for folk to talk or simply sit and drink. Dannil, when they found him, was leaning on one of the walls smoking a slender clay pipe. He was tall and wiry, with his sun-bleached brown hair tied back in a tail and two golden hoops in his left ear. Dannil broke into a grin when he spotted Ionae. “There’s my knife-eared lass! Byar got you working too hard to come have a drink with me once in a while?”

Vash bristled at his casual familiarity, but Ionae smirked as she approached. “Maybe I just have better things to do than entertain washed-up marsh pirates who can’t keep their boats off the shoals?”

“Hey, I never ran anything aground that I couldn’t get back out into open water.” Dannil said, stabbing at her with the stem of his pipe. “Besides, I’m out of the pirate trade.”

“You’ve said that before.” Ionae snorted.

“I’m not kidding.” Dannil said, emphatically. “Most of the marsh pirates are getting out. Willowmarsh is crawling with Scalebacks these days, too dangerous to hide out in the marshes anymore.”

“That’s interesting.” Ionae said, surprised. “The local tribes were driven east decades ago, weren’t they?”

“Scalebacks?” Vash asked.

“Big lizard looking fellas, tall as I am but not as pretty.” Dannil answered. “This the wee fella you’re playing nursemaid to?”

Vash felt his face get hot and his fists tighten, Dannil only smiled and turned to Ionae, dismissing Vash as a non-threat.

“This is Vash, he’s my partner tonight.” Ionae corrected, gently.

“Ayuh.” Dannil grunted. “Anyways, the Willowmarsh is my problem, not yours. And I know you didn’t come down here for my sparkling personality.”

“You have some good qualities, but your knack for gossip is my favorite.” Ionae said with a wink.

Dannil gave her a broad grin and leaned back against the tavern wall. “Well, then I got good news and bad news. Good news is I found the folk who’ve been taking part-bloods.”

Shadows shifted in Vash’s peripheral vision. Men were moving, slowly and casually, until they blocked off his and Ionae’s way out of the courtyard. Vash stiffened. “Ionae…”

“Bad news is they pay well enough to give you up, lass.” Dannil said with a slightly guilty smirk. “Sorry about that.”

“Not yet, you’re not.” Ionae said, face becoming stone. Her hand flashed out, palm first she struck Dannil’s pipe. The pirate squealed as his teeth broke and the shattered clay of his pipe jammed into his throat. Coughing and spitting blood he collapsed to his knees. “Vash, remember the plan!”

Vash swallowed hard and called up the schima that Ionae had showed him, a twisty and confusing shape. He hadn’t been consistent in using the Talent when working with Ionae, the schima tended to slip or wouldn’t hold in his mind. Relief flooded him as he felt the mental click of the Talent ready to activate. The men advanced, anger in their eyes, and Vash activated the Talent with a mental twist.

Shadows deepened and color leeched from the world as Vash took a step away from the guttering torches. He felt the cool embrace of the shadows and moved quickly out of the path of his attackers. Like in practice, they moved with a molasses-like slowness, confused looks on their faces. To their eyes he’d likely vanished as he stepped out of the light.

Shadow-walking, Ionae had explained, is one of the gifts of the Eth Mitaan. So long as there is shadow, you will pass unseen to most eyes. It’s not perfect, sharp eyes or another Talent can pierce it, but it will give you an advantage if used properly.

Vash doffed his robe, the cloth not binding on his blades or leathers for once. He drew his short sword and dagger. One of the toughs was turning slowly, following the shadow’s path. Sharp eyes.

Don’t think, don’t hesitate, Kyrinos will guide you. Ionae’s voice echoed in his thoughts. Darting out, Vash stabbed the turning man through the back of his thigh. The shadows collapsed and color flooded back into the world. The sharp-eyed man gave out a yelp of pain and buckled when Vash withdrew his dagger. The man collapsed, blood pouring from his leg.

I must have hit the artery. Vash thought. He had only meant to wound the man, take him out of the fight.

“Vash! Keep moving!” Ionae shouted. Her blades were a blur as she sliced through one man’s fingers and neatly stabbed through the neck of another.

Turning, Vash moved towards the arch that lead out of the courtyard. A hulking, hook-nosed man moved to cut him off. Vash skidded to a halt in surprise, ducking as hook-nose lunged at him with a dagger that easily would have doubled for a meat cleaver. Sliding beneath the man’s arms Vash brought his short sword up. Hook-nose gasped as Vash felt the blade slide in beneath the man’s ribs. He gurgled once, then toppled forward. Vash side stepped and his blade came free, coated with blood to the hilt.

That hit the heart…I wasn’t aiming for the heart…I wasn’t aiming for anything! Vash thought, panicking.

A roar of anger came from his side, a fork-bearded pirate with a tattoo of Junn characters circling his neck was charging. The man had a hand-axe and swung it at Vash, hard enough to break through bone as well as flesh. To Vash’s surprise he had evaded the attack. Fork-beard cried out wordlessly and swung again, another bone-shattering, flesh tearing attack that would have left Vash dead, if it had hit.

Vash found himself stepping off the man’s line of attack and coming alongside his opponent. Fork-beard stared in surprise as Vash slid his dagger into his lower back. The man’s sudden look of shock and terror told Vash that his blade had hit something vital. He hadn’t even remembered raising the weapon. Fork-beard slashed one last time, a feeble attack that Vash moved away from easily.

A silence came over the courtyard. Vash looked over at Ionae. Her assailants lay on the ground, most seemed still alive. She stared at him, past him, a strange look on her face. Vash turned and looked back. The three men he had fought lay on the cobbles, an unnatural stillness about them. They were all dead, he knew instinctively.

“How…” Ionae said, then shook her head. “Never mind, we’ll talk later.” She strode over to where Dannil lay, whimpering and coughing. She pulled the tail of his hair back until he was looking up at her. One of her slender daggers rested just beneath Dannil’s right eye. “Talk.”

“I…I didn’t mean…” Dannil rasped through broken teeth. Then he screamed as Ionae’s dagger pierced his eye in a gush of blood and fluid.

“I don’t want excuses.” Ionae said, withdrawing the blade and placing the tip to Dannil’s left eye. “I want a name.”

Dannil whimpered and sniffled then finally rasped. “Ruel.”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” Ionae hissed, yanking back hard on Dannil’s scalp.

“I’m not!” Dannil blubbered. “By all the gods, I’m not lying! He’s working with some full-blood, smuggling your folk out of the city.”

“Why?” Ionae said, her face a mask of fury and confusion.

“I don’t know!” Dannil whimpered. “He paid me to take you and the boy to the Silver Mane stables in Drover’s Court. Said he didn’t care what state you were in. It was too much money; I couldn’t give it up. It would have—”

Whatever excuse Dannil was going to give it died on his lips as Ionae sliced cleanly across his windpipe and the artery on the side of his neck. Blood spattered the wall and coated Ionae’s hands and blade. She stood over the body, her hands shaking, droplets of blood dripping onto the cobblestones.

“We should go.” Vash said, feeling his own body trembling. “There was a lot of noise, someone’s going to check.”

“They won’t.” Ionae said, sniffing back tears. “No one ever comes to check, or to see if they can help. They keep their head down. They ignore it.” She looked down at Dannil’s body, then spat in the man’s missing eye. “You were supposed to be my friend. Look what you made me do.”

“Ionae…” Vash began.

“Yeah, I know.” Ionae said. “Let’s go finish this.”

She turned, leaving her robe behind and strode purposefully out of the courtyard.

“Where are we going?” Vash asked as he joined her.

“To the Silver Mane stables.” Ionae said. “I want to see the men who made me kill my friend.”