Free The Archon's Assassin by D. P. Prior Page A

things about New Jerusalem’s Senate, but at the end of the day, they ran a tight ship; least when it came to avenging one of their own.
    “I was saying to the little fellow I met on the road,” Nameless said, “how slovenly soldiers are these days. Think he agreed with me, but it’s hard to tell with strangers. Especially the strange ones.”
    “Bird?” Shadrak said. “I thought you knew him. Thought you sent him ahead.”
    “Barely met him,” Nameless said. “So, you know him, do you?”
    “Not really,” Shadrak said. “Just turned up at Queenie’s. Said you were on your way.”
    “Did he now?” Nameless said. He was starting to get that queasy feeling in his guts, the one he always got when there was a whiff of magic or something else he didn’t understand. “Reminded me of you in some way.” He angled a glance at Shadrak, in case the midget took that as a slight. Apparently, he didn’t. “Funny thing was, I went off into the trees to do what a dwarf has to do, and time I got back, he was gone. Even funnier thing: there were no footprints.”
    Magwitch dipped his head into the gale and fought his way to a dilapidated chimney stack. A long metal rod had been bolted to its side, and extended high into the sky. Tethered to the rod by a length of rope was a floating sheet of blackness the size of a bed.
    “Help me haul her in,” Magwitch called over his shoulder.
    Shadrak was still intent on the milling soldiers down in the streets below, but Nameless took a hold on the rope and reeled it in. As the floating sheet drew nearer, he saw it was solid, and flecked with green, the same as his helm.
    “That scarolite, laddie?” It was a sizable chunk. You didn’t see scarolite like that outside of the mines near home.
    “It is that,” Magwitch said. “Arcanistically aereogated.”
    Shadrak sauntered over for a look. “Smuggled, if I ain’t much mistaken.”
    “And a bargain, too, thanks to them Night Whores of yours.”
    “Hawks,” Shadrak said. “And what bargain?”
    “Before your time,” Magwitch said.
    “Yeah, well it ain’t my time now, neither. Not anymore.”
    “Oh?” Magwitch said. That could have been glee in his voice.
    “Handed the guilds over,” Shadrak said. “Left Fargin in charge.”
    “Buck Fargin?”
    Shadrak nodded and scowled at the same time.
    Magwitch rubbed his hands together. “He’s the one that sold me this.”
    The sheet of scarolite tugged at the line as Nameless held it firm.
    “It’s just a protozoan,” Magwitch said, “but she’ll get you out of the city.”
    “Really?” Shadrak said. “Looks like a flying door to me.”
    “It’s an air-raft,” Magwitch said. “If you bombusticate scarolite with… Oh, no. I’m not giving up my secretions that easily.”
    “Just tell us how it works,” Shadrak said.
    “Well, it doesn’t. For you, that is.” Magwitch popped a truffle in his mouth and chewed nosily. He offered the bag around, but when nobody took one, he gulped his down and said, “Hop on, then.”
    Nameless nodded for Shadrak to go first. “I’ll hold on to the rope, laddie. Keep her steady for you.”
    “There’s no seats, no straps,” Shadrak said. “We’ll fall off.”
    “Not if I keep her level,” Magwitch said. He rolled himself onto the air-raft and seated himself with his legs dangling off the edge. Almost immediately, it stopped tugging against its mooring, and Nameless let go.
    Shadrak vaulted onto the scarolite and dropped into a squat.
    “Where to?” Magwitch asked.
    “The boreworm tunnels,” Shadrak said.
    At the same time, Nameless said, “The Perfect Peak.”
    Both Shadrak and Magwitch said, “What?”
    Nameless clambered aboard and rapped on the great helm. “I was heading there next. Need feeding.” He hated admitting it. It was an embarrassment. But what choice did he have?
    “Oh, for shog’s sake,” Shadrak said. “How long’s that bald bastard gonna keep his hold over you?”
    Before Nameless could