“Familiar? Ha! The bastards only put me out business once they took the crystal trade. What do you know about them?”
“For the past three years, I was investigating their operations between Dromán and Cruachan under the king’s orders. I have information on their suppliers, their routes, and their figures.”
Jacob looked as if his jaw might have fallen to the floor if it hadn’t been so tightly attached to his face.
“Well, that kind of information could very well put me back in the game. I’d be eternally grateful if you’d share even a fraction of it.”
Farris patted Jacob on the shoulder. “Better than that. I’ll tell you all about them on the way to Penance.”
Chapter 4:
The Stones of Sin
As the blood filled his lungs, Fionn woke with fright. The details of the dream faded from his memory, but the fear still remained. In darkness, he waited once more, unable to move.
Gods, what is this place?! roared a voice from inside his head. Why have you forsaken me?!
The words alone may have been enough to frighten the mage, but there was something more unsettling about the voice: it was not his own.
***
“Ruadh’s wind!” cursed Farris, holding a hand up to his eyes. “It’s darker than pitch out here. How can you see?”
Jacob howled with laughter behind him. The smuggler tended to the great black sail of the tiny skiff; his movements surprisingly deft in the darkness.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said. “And someday your eyes will see better in the dark than they can in the light. Then maybe they’ll start calling you blind!”
“Smuggling may suit me,” Farris said. “I’ve learned enough from the Black Sail to start my own venture.”
Jacob howled with laughter again. “Sure, but if all you’ve told me is true, you’d be looking at the wrong crew to learn the ropes. Why is it that they haven’t been caught yet?”
“Corruption,” said Farris. “The captain of Cruachan’s City Guard is being paid to turn a blind eye.”
“That’s Padraig Tuathil, isn’t it? Wasn’t he the one who tried to topple the Guild?”
“Aye, it’s the same fool, alright. He wouldn’t have gotten as close as he did if we hadn’t been stringing him along. It was all carefully planned and perfectly executed by Argyll.”
“Ah now, Farris,” said Jacob. “You’re far too modest for a liar as talented as yourself. Way I heard it, that was mainly your doing. The false informants, the setups… and what was that about scapegoats?”
“Traitors of the Guild we would have executed anyway,” said Farris dryly. “Two beadhbhs, one boulder, as they say. Now the king thinks the Guild has been dismantled, and I’ve gained some valuable work experience in the Crown’s spy network.”
“The Silverback would do well to have you back by his side,” muttered Jacob. “Things have really been going to shit lately.”
They sailed on in silence, eastwards towards a horizon invisible in the dark. Farris wore a spare black cloak Jacob happened to have at hand, which he became more and more grateful for as the cold night went on. After a few hours, Jacob adjusted the sail and the skiff changed its course, curving northwards, then westwards, back towards the shores of Alabach.
“We need to give Moray’s Head a wide berth,” said Jacob. “We could have made the journey in half the time if we hugged the coast, but with the Crown’s battlemages patrolling these lands now, we can’t take any chances.”
Farris didn’t immediately realise that the darkness was beginning to fade. It was only when he could partially see his hands again that it was apparent that morning was approaching.
“Don’t worry about that,” said Jacob, apparently aware of Farris’s concern. “We’ll be docking deep in Heretic’s Bay soon. There’s a path through the Steel Mountains that’ll take us around the Rustlake into Penance. We’re past the worst of it, trust me.”
“We’re not taking the canal?” asked Farris.
“Ha!” laughed Jacob. “Of course not. The main trade route is far too risky for smuggling, even with the city locked down. We’ll be making most of this journey by foot.”
“Of course.” Farris’s voice quivered slightly. “And how confident are you we won’t be seen?”
Jacob eyed him. “Farris Silvertongue! Are you frightened? Skies above and below! That’s one for the history books.
He doesn’t know the half of it. Nobody does.
Farris had first fallen victim to what he called ‘the fear’ when he began his work with the Crown. Only when The Glory of Penance had crashed into the Glenn, did he really feel that it had left him. But now, away from the bears and the beadhbhs and the trolls of the Glenn, the anxiety had begun creeping back. Wild carnivorous animals were less terrifying to him than kings and politicians.
Neither of the Simians spoke as the skiff approached the Steel Mountains. Farris was more sceptical of Jacob’s talent than he let on, but when the broken remains of Sin came into view far above those shimmering peaks in the waxing morning light, it was clear that the smuggler was a master of his craft. The vessel had been expertly steered through a very long course, with few stars or landmarks to guide the way.
“Is it as lovely as you remember?” asked Jacob.
“No. It’s far better.”
He meant it. There, a few dozen miles away, was the remains of the Tower of Sin, jutting out from the mountains. Legend had it that the tower had once pierced the sky, built by heathen Simians that wished to usurp the Gods themselves. But when the tower reached a height greater than the sacred Mount Selyth to the south, Lord Seletoth appeared before the Simian builders and cursed their deeds. He tore the tower from the sky, and left its ruins for all to see, as a reminder of the greatest Sin of the Simian people. He then banished every Simian in Alabach to live in the tower’s foundations, claiming that to be their Penance.
Even at only a fraction of the height it had once been, the remains of Sin were still a wonderous sight to behold. Amongst the uneven edges of the mountains, the tower shot straight upwards like an iron shaft. Only the peak showed any sign of ruin, with a gaping hole now taking the place where the rest of the structure once stood.
“There’s a cave not ten minutes away,” said Jacob. “That’ll take us towards the city unseen.”
“Yes,” said Farris, barely hearing Jacob’s words. The rising sun had finally burst over the mountains. The skiff continued onwards, towards the long shadows cast by the mountains.
Once they reached the jagged cliffs of Penance, Jacob began deftly dismantling the sail. Farris watched with interest as the smuggler went to work, folding the sailcloth until it was small enough to fit into a coat pocket, and taking the mast apart until he was left with two short poles identical in length. It was only when Jacob handed one to Farris that he noticed that they were actually oars.
