Page 22 of The Wind Dancer
He grunted, but he didn’t take the coin immediately.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“For now, I just want to find out who else is looking for me,” I replied. “And why.”
Zhao finally took the coin and hid it in his sleeve.
“I’ll let you know if there’s any news. But if these people are really out to kill you...”
He lifted the cup and finished off his drink.
“...It’d be better if you took care of this quickly. If you need it, you know our rates.”
He held up three fingers.
Thirty silver liangs, and my pursuers would never leave the Lower City.
Moonfaces were good at killing.
We continued our meal in silence. The delicious taste of the food, the warmth of the wine reminded me that I was alive. But for how long?
I decided to start with what seemed like the most difficult thing until yesterday, but which was now the least imposing on my list of problems — the guild.
I walked through the narrow streets of the Lower City as if nothing weighed on me. It was noisy and crowded during the day, but I knew that behind every merchant’s call and laborer’s laughter, there was a hidden observer. Everyone knew their place in these neighborhoods, and today, mine was with the Daymaster of the Shadow Walkers’ guild.
After a bit of wandering, I approached an inconspicuous house and knocked in a special pattern. A moment later, the heavy door opened, and I stepped inside.
Lian Shu, the guild’s Daymaster and one of the five elders, sat at a low table piled high with scrolls and notes. Tall, thin, with long black hair pulled back in a tight bun, he looked like anofficial who had lost interest in the prestige of his position. His narrow face had fine wrinkles, but his dark eyes sparkled with the sharpness of a person who had seen many a betrayal. He idly fiddled with a red rosary, a habit he had when he was thinking. Rumor had it that it was his preferred weapon.
“Feng Lao,” he said, without even looking up from his work. “As I understand it, you have completed the job.”
I silently opened the bag and, taking several pearls, carefully rolled them onto his scroll. More than a fifth of the loot, but since I wasn’t a master Shadow yet, I had to pay more. Lian Shu moved his slender fingers to them and brought one of the pearls close to his face, studying it in the dappled morning sun that came in through the curtains.
“Good catch,” he finally nodded. “This is sufficient for your candidacy to be considered. But Fu Shang was waiting for you last night, I’m sure he won’t be happy.” The old man curled his lips — he and the Nightmaster had despised each other for a long time. “My vote will be a yes. Wait here. The council will convene in the chambers below. You will be brought tea in the meantime.”
The council didn’t gather often. If they had already convened, then they clearly had more to discuss than my request to receive the rank of master.
I inclined my head in gratitude. Everything rested with the elders now. They’d decide whether I was worthy of the title.
Lian Shu rose and left without another word.
But while I sat waiting, the dragonblood’s last words rang out in my head again.
“Seeing you were sent here to die...”
Now that I thought about those words, it suddenly hit me that the answer to who was responsible was incredibly obvious — Fu Shang.
He oversaw the guild’s nighttime operations, distributed jobs, and knew who to send where. If I was set up, he had something to do with it.
But why?
I clenched my fingers. The money was insignificant to a man of his position. It had to be the amulet or the documents. The only thing I didn’t know was whether he knew about them in advance. Or had someone else instructed him to do it? There was a chance he wasn’t working alone. There was definitely a chance someone had intended to steal those using a young Shadow, who’d slip past dragonblood while they tore each other apart.
Did someone believe I had a chance to steal things under these circumstances?
Or did they simply want me dead?
I closed my eyes, pretending to be patiently waiting for my tea. But inside, I had a sinking feeling that there were bigger things at play than I could’ve anticipated, even with this simpler task.
