“Well, it looks like you calculated wrong.”
Nora shook her head.
“That, or the Watcher still lives. If his rumors are to be believed, he could have achieved victory. Surely it took someone of his skill with a blade to kill Nicholas.”
“Laerek assured us the man was dead,” Carson said. “I might have a word with him. His poor information has cost us dearly.”
“If the Watcher killed Nicholas, then we need to hunt him down and return the favor,” Percy said, leaning forward in his seat and drumming the table with his fingers. Carson saw the eagerness there, and it amused him greatly.
“There’s little word on who he is, or who his loved ones are,” Carson said. “All we know is of his allegiance to the Eschaton.”
Percy shrugged.
“Someone will talk. Someone has to know. All we have to do is find out, and do a little knife work, and we’ll have him helpless.”
The door opened. Carson leaned to the side to see better past his wife. It was a woman, slender, with long brown hair that curled down around her shoulders. Her dress was plain but clean, and of a soft blue.
“Miss,” the barkeep said. “Please, you should go...”
“No men here to buy a whore,” Percy said, glancing back and seeing her. “Go on your way.”
The woman stepped around the two mutilated bodies, seeming unfazed by them. Carson narrowed his eyes, and then he began to laugh.
“My, my,” he said. “I think we’ve found our Widow.”
The woman did not sit at their table, but the one beside them, as if uncomfortable with their presence. She kept her hair low over her face, and when she talked, it was a strained whisper that Carson had to struggle to hear.
“Laerek said I could find you here.”
“Well, that’s the first thing Laerek’s been right about so far,” Percy said, but he was the only one to laugh.
“The city seems to know you well,” Nora said. Carson could tell his wife was examining her closely, trying to reach an opinion of some sort. He trusted her ability to read someone, and when their talk was done, he’d listen well to what she had to say. “Yet I wonder why. All you’ve done is kill a few members of a guild. Others do it all the time. Why are you so special to Laerek, or to us?”
“People die all the time,” the strange woman said. “I give the city something to remember, to both fear and enjoy.”
“What’s your real name?” Carson asked, putting aside his pipe.
“Don’t you know? I’m the Widow.”
The woman laughed, and something about it unsettled Carson’s stomach. He shifted in his seat, and his hand reached for the sword strapped to his belt.
“Keep your secrets, then,” Nora said. “Whatever Laerek’s plan is, let him keep it. But why are you here? What business do you have with us?”
“I’m here to help you,” she said.
Percy laughed, and even Carson had to fight to keep down a chuckle.
“Is that so?” he asked. “Who are you to help us? And help us do what, exactly?”
“I know this city,” the Widow said. “Know it far better than you. I’ve seen its gross underbelly, know its scabs and scars. If you want, I can draw the Watcher out. You’ll have a clean shot, all of you. All I ask is that you kill him quickly. I don’t want him to escape, and trouble me further.”
Carson looked to the other two. Nora’s nod showed she approved. Her gut told her that the Widow was to be believed. Percy merely shrugged.
“It’s either the Watcher, or the Ash,” he said. “We need to stick together no matter who we go after.”
Carson nodded, but Percy’s remark about trusting no one still echoed in his head. He looked to this strange, nameless woman, then gestured for her to continue.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Let’s hear your plan.”
24
The first night was terrible, but Nathaniel managed. Several times he woke up thinking he’d heard a noise, or that he’d seen movement in the shadows.
“Zusa?” he called out each time, squinting to see. Always nothing, but he couldn’t help but think monsters lurked within the dark corners of his room. Normally he told himself it was Zusa, but he knew it wasn’t. She’d left. Somehow, by the way his mother had kissed him goodnight, he knew she was gone. The night crawled along, until at long last daylight met his ragged eyes.
The day came and went, him sleepwalking through most of it. At one point he fell asleep at the table, his uneaten food beside his face. One of the servant women had scolded him harshly for that, and he’d only been able to offer the most meager of apologies. All the while, he waited for Zusa’s return. And waited. The servants whispered of how the previous night had been far safer, and that Victor was winning over the city. Nathaniel knew this should have made his mother happier, but it did not.