Kihrin knew the park had to be the famed Arena itself, where would-be emperors fought for the right to rule. It wasn’t precisely what he expected. It was not a coliseum, but merely a circular open space divided between forested woods, briar, and a bit of meadow. It was lined with a few small, ruined buildings that looked in imminent danger of collapse from age. Still, Kihrin saw where the tree branches abruptly cut off, forming a kind of dome shape over the area. Many of the trees inside had a blasted, wild look to them; there was something perverted and strange to their shape and color. A litter of debris—weapons and armor and old skulls—peeked out from under a cloak of grass and leaves.
The Emperor had been crowned here, through trial by combat, since the founding of the Empire itself. It was where Kihrin’s mother (if she was his mother) Lyrilyn had met her fate, and where Ola had found him as a newborn babe. He no longer doubted which of Ola or Surdyeh’s stories had been the true one. Why both of them had been willing to lie about that truth and pass it off as fiction—ah, now that was where the mystery lay.
Kihrin turned back as Galen tugged on his sleeve. “Come on. The door is this way. There aren’t any duels going right now, or there’d be a crowd.”
Kihrin said, “I thought you said you’d never been here before.”
“I haven’t,” Galen replied, “but Father tells stories. He fights a lot of duels here.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”
The front doors were open, and a large man who might as well have been wearing a sign that said “bouncer” nodded to them as they entered. Kihrin could tell right away that this wasn’t like other taverns—the large glass windows that looked out from the tavern to the dueling area of the Arena wouldn’t have lasted fifteen minutes in a regular bar. Also, no bar Kihrin had ever seen could afford to use the sheer quantity and variety of mage-light he saw.
The tavern was also sublimely crowded. People of all ages, sexes, races, and stations bumped shoulders together with seeming disregard for the fact that their neighbors were of all ages, sexes, races, and stations. Except Kihrin assumed that they occasionally remembered and then it all devolved into one of the Arena’s famous duels.
“We’re looking for a female bouncer named Tauna,” Kihrin whispered to Galen.
“We are?” Galen asked, surprised.
“Just follow my lead.” Kihrin walked inside the taproom as if he’d been there before and knew exactly where the choice spots were located. There was a bland-looking bartender serving drinks: bald, tall, thin, and a bit potbellied. He raised an eyebrow at the pair as they walked by.
“Do you realize we’re the youngest people in this place?” Galen said.
“Our metal is old enough.”
Kihrin found them seats at a table, ordered a pepper beer for each of them from the wench, and took the time to give the room a thorough examination. There were a number of women present, although most of them looked like the help or sparkling drinking accessories. Not one of them looked like anyone he would describe as a bouncer.
“Kihrin.” Galen tugged urgently on his sleeve. “What is that?”
“Hmmm? What? Who?” Kihrin looked around.
“Over in the corner. Look at him! He’s not human.”
Kihrin glanced around the room. The focus of Galen’s attention wasn’t easy to see, since he blended with the wall behind him. He had no hair at all, but wicked porcupine-like spikes coming off his head, and a nose that might not have been a nose at all. It didn’t end so much as turn into tentacle-like protrusions, which twitched and moved on their own. There were more spikes coming off his arms, and talons instead of nails, but worse than any of this were his eyes—which practically glowed with reflective firelight. He was huge and covered in muscle.
“Oh, they have a morgage. It’s really rare to see a pure-blood.”
“That’s one of the morgage?” Galen was practically whispering. “No wonder they’re such a problem.”
“You usually only see the half-breeds left over from whenever the morgage go on a rampage. The only work they can find is bone breaking or the like. I’m sure he’s one of the bouncers here.”
“Indeed. Who’d want to mess with that?”
“You’d be surprised. They probably have wizards on staff as well.” Even as he said the words, Kihrin noticed a lively game of cards at a nearby table. One of the gamblers was a woman, dressed in kef trousers and a man’s misha tunic, her feet wrapped in tall boots she raised up to rest on a stool. A sly grin crossed her face as she presented a winning hand to her groaning opponents.
“That’ll be her,” Kihrin told his brother, gesturing at the woman with his chin. He quickly signaled a waitress and put a silver chance on her tray. “A drink for the woman at the table over there. Tell her it’s from her old friend Merit.”
The woman took the money, nodded at Kihrin, and left in the direction of the game.
“Who is this woman?” Galen asked. “What are we doing here?”
“I’m trying to find out some information.” Kihrin flashed a brilliant smile at his younger brother. “Trust me.”
Galen blushed and looked away. “I thought we were here to have some fun.”
“Did you see her? Trust me, this is fun.”
Kihrin leaned back in his seat and tried to act nonchalant as he saw the waitress drop off the ale and message. A moment later the woman dressed in men’s clothing pardoned herself from the group of gamblers and made her way through the crowd, avoiding their table entirely as she walked to the back stairs and out of sight.
“Hey! Wait, she was supposed to—”
“Your drink, my lord,” the waitress said as she set the glass down on the table.
“We haven’t finished our pepper beers yet—” Galen started to protest.
Kihrin threw him a dirty look and shook his head.
“Thank you,” Kihrin said as he tipped the waitress.
The moment she turned away, he fished a key out of the drink and grinned.
“Did you bring me here just so you could meet a girl?” Galen didn’t hide his indignation.
Kihrin gave his brother an odd look. “Why, jealous?”
“What? No. That’s stupid.” Galen was even redder now. “Why would I be jealous of some tavern wench I’ve never met before?”
Kihrin leaned over. “We’re here because what I’m doing may or may not be legal. And I certainly don’t want Darzin to know about it. You still in? Because if you’re not, you can stay here while I finish my business.”
Galen swallowed. “I’m in. Of course I’m in.”
“Okay.” Kihrin waved the key. “Then let’s go meet a girl.”
* * *
The door was locked, but then, that’s what the key was for. Kihrin ushered Galen inside and then shut the door behind them.
“If you’re expecting something out of Velvet Town, you’re going to be very disappointed,” Tauna told them both. The woman sat in a chair in a corner of the inn room, looking out toward the Arena Park through a window. “I don’t do kids for any price.”
Galen crossed his arms over his chest and looked thoroughly annoyed at being called a “kid.”
Kihrin just nodded and pulled up a chair for himself. “Merit said he’d leave his present for me with you.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Present? Is that what you call it?”
“Sure, why not?” Kihrin paused. “Unless he hasn’t found anything…?”
She reached behind the mattress and pulled out a smallish satchel before tossing it on the bed. “I didn’t say that.”
As Kihrin started to reach for the satchel, Tauna tsked and shook a finger. “Ah, ah, ah. Payment first, my lord. Merit said this isn’t a freebie.”
“How much?” Kihrin asked.