It was a long walk from the work site at Fork Crossing back to Master Nerlav’s estate; there were many ways to go, but the most direct route used three different roads throughout the Low Dales to the edge of the Inner City, where the businessman’s house, stable, and office were built. Dago changed directions at a crossroad surrounded by rows of farmland tended by bent over women and children. A few looked up and nodded to him as he walked along, and he nodded back without smiling. He was feeling much better than he had at the beginning of the month.
He paused as he climbed the last gradual incline up to Nerlav’s property. The sun was setting behind him, covering his shoulders with the telltale gleam of sunlight, so he turned and looked to the west. The land west of Ith sloped downwards, presumably toward the Great Lake, and the sunset seemed more brilliant across the lowlands and forests in that direction. Dago managed a small smile, and then approached the small wooden gate to Nerlav’s estate.
“Welcome back, sir,” the porter said. “They’re waiting for you inside.”
“They?” Dago asked. He was on his way to report to Nerlav that work was almost done in Fork Crossing. He would ask for his next assignment, perhaps to one of the man’s other work sites.
The porter, a short man with cream-white hair, waved him through without another word.
As he walked across the small yard, Dago glanced at the stable, where another worker was piling hay into an iron-railed wagon with a two pronged pitchfork. He climbed the wooden steps of the deck in front of Nerlav’s office building and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Nerlav’s voice said, and Dago stepped inside. His employer was sitting at his desk nearby.
“Hello,” said a woman, to his right, but before he could see her, something hit him in the face, hard enough that he fell back against the door. He couldn’t see a thing. His hand flashed up to block or remove whatever it was, but his fingers touched only his face’s features, his nose, his mouth. Holding his other hand out to protect himself, he reached up to touch his eyes, for he still could not see a thing. The woman, with a deep voice said, “You’ll earn your sight back in due time, if you’re helpful.”
Dago reached for his sword and yanked it free of his belt.
“Careful, you’re dead blind,” Nerlav’s voice said. “Don’t slash up my workspace please.”
“You did this to me?”
The woman: “I did. Nerlav contacted me, you see, via an information specialist here in Ith. I travelled here just for you, Dago.”
Dago shook his head. He couldn’t see a thing, but he could smell the candles and hear the others’ breathing. He did not sheathe his sword, and he did not calm down. “I gave you nearly free work, and this is how you repay me? You’re after Miss Puzzle aren’t you?”
“You’re clever,” the woman’s deep voice said. “Tell me everything, and I will give you your vision back.”
“Am I still needed here?” Nerlav asked.
“No, not really. Dago, step away from the door now,” the woman said.
Dago sighed and took a well-paced step away from the door. “What is wrong with you cursed people? Can’t you just leave me alone?” he asked. He heard Nerlav’s chair scuff the floor as the man stood up. Dago took another step from the door, and listened to the man’s footsteps. After all that kindness, it had come to this?
“You made it the whole way to Ith, didn’t you?” the woman said. Dago wasn’t listening to the sound of her voice though. He was focused on another sound.
When Nerlav’s boots tread close enough, Dago leapt forward. He slammed into the man, blindly, and they both collided with the wall. Dago angled his sword, pressing it against Nerlav’s body, though he didn’t know what part. His other forearm was pressed against the flailing businessman, easily holding him there with twice the muscle.
“Dago,” the woman said impatiently.
“I’ll kill him,” Dago said. “Give me back my sight and get out of here.”
The woman sighed, while Nerlav continued thrashing for freedom. “Please,” the man said, “He’s hurting me!” Dago’s blade had already drawn blood. He couldn’t tell where he had Nerlav pinned, though he knew from his other arm that he had the man’s chest against the wall. He moved his sword higher.
“I’ll do it,” Dago said.
“Oh, get it over with then.” The woman’s voice was a low, thick droning; she was completely indifferent.
“These people,” Dago growled, and thrust his sword into the wood of the wall. Nerlav, impaled, started to screech in pain, but Dago stabbed him again. The shock turned Nerlav’s reaction into a gasp. Then, slowly, Dago let the body sag to the ground. His sword was heavy, hanging closer to his feet now, probably dripping blood, though Dago couldn’t see a thing.
“Now what?” the woman said. “Are you going to swing around in the dark until you find me? It won’t work. Could we just talk?”
Dago sighed. “I already told Ax or whatever his name was—”
“You spoke to Axar?” she asked, suddenly alert.
“Are you joking? You came here to question me when someone else already has?” Dago asked. “What on earth are you magicians after? I just want to be left to my own devices, which I can assure you won’t interfere with your—”
“Did Axar make it to Elpan?” she asked.
“He was travelling with the army, so I’m sure he did,” Dago said. “I gave him Miss Puzzle’s letter, he paid for my passage, he was far kinder than you… and I told him everything I knew about her.”
“Oh,” she said. “We’ll need to contact Axar then. Once things are wrapped up in that city…” For a few moments she was silent. Then, she spoke again. Dago stood with his sword hanging from his loose fingers, and listened. “So Miss Puzzle was lost in that city? Was she slain? This is very important.”
“She was,” Dago said. “Along with all her men. The ship dropped me on the docks and sailed back east. I was never going to go into Yarik, and I was never going to help you people. Now, leave me be.”
“Fine,” she said. “Your sight will return, as you have been most helpful…”
After a moment, Dago said, “When?” He still couldn’t see a thing. There was no reply. “Are you still there?” he asked.
Silence.
“Damned magicians,” Dago said. “Damned plots and questions and mysteries…” He stabbed the body again, in anger. How was he going to get out of here? Surrounded by blood he had shed in an estate that was not his…
He’d find a way. And he was so done with ignoring their secret games.