The Infernal City Read Free Page B

Skyrim, but assassins liked the story, and it wasn’t that uncommon for a brash young up-and-coming killer to take that alias and daydream of making that cryptic reply.
    The knife in Colin’s hand didn’t feel remotely a part of him. The handle was slick and clammy, and it made his arm feel huge and obvious, hanging by his side just under the edge of his cloak.
    Why hadn’t the man noticed him? He was just standing there, leaning against the banister of the bridge, staring off toward the lighthouse. He came here each Loredas, after visitinghis horse at the stables. Often he met someone here; there was a brief conversation, and they would part. He never spoke to the same person twice.
    Colin continued toward him. There was traffic on the bridge—mostly folks from Weye going home for the night with their wagons and the things they hadn’t sold at market, lovers trying to find a nice place to be secret.
    But it was thinning out. They were almost alone.
    “There you are,” the man said.
    His face was hard to see, as it was cast in shadow by a watch-light a little farther up. Colin knew it well, though. It was long and bony. His hair was black with a little gray, his eyes startling blue.
    “Here I am,” Colin replied, his mouth feeling dry.
    “Come on over.”
    A few steps and Colin was standing next to him. A group of students from the College of Whispers were loudly approaching.
    “I like this place,” the man said. “I like to hear the bells of the ships and see the light. It reminds me of the sea. Do you know the sea?”
    Shut up! Colin thought. Please don’t talk to me.
    The students were dithering, pointing at something in the hills northwest.
    “I’m from Anvil,” Colin said, unable to think of anything but the truth.
    “Ah, nice town, Anvil. What’s that place, the one with the dark beer?”
    “The Undertow.”
    The man smiled. “Right. I like that place.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What times, eh? I used to have a beautiful villa on the headland off Topal Bay. I had a little boat, two sails, just for plying near the coast. Now …” He raised his hands and let them drop. “But you didn’t come here for any of that, did you?”
    The students were finally moving off, talking busily in what sounded like a made-up language.
    “I guess not,” Colin agreed. His arm felt larger than ever, the knife like a stone in his hand.
    “No. Well, it’s simple today. You can tell them there’s nothing new. And if anyone asks, tell them that no food, no wine, no lover’s kiss is as beautiful as a long, deep, breath.”
    “What?”
    “Astorie
, book three. Chapter—What are you holding there?”
    Stupidly, Colin looked down at the knife, which had slipped from the folds of his cloak and gleamed in the lamplight.
    Their eyes met.
    “No!” the man shouted.
    So Colin stabbed him—or tried. The man’s palms came up and the knife cut into them. Colin reached with his left hand to try to slap them aside and thrust again, this time slicing deep into the forearm.
    “Just stop it!” the man gasped. “Wait a minute, talk—”
    The knife slipped past the thrashing limbs and sank into his solar plexus. His mouth still working, the fellow staggered back, staring at his hand and arm.
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
    Colin took a step toward the man, who slumped against the banister.
    “Don’t,” he wheezed.
    “I have to,” Colin whispered. He stooped down. The man’s arms came up, too weak now to stop Colin from cutting his throat.
    The corpse slipped to a sitting position. Colin slid down next to him and watched the students, distant now, entirely unaware of what had just happened.
    Unlike the two men coming from the city, who were walking purposefully toward him. Colin put his arms around the deadman’s shoulders, as if the fellow had passed out from drinking and he was keeping him warm.
    But there wasn’t any need for that. One of the pair was a tall bald man with angular