The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter (Riyria Chronicles #4)

Royce would never let him hear the end of this fiasco. You couldn’t even catch an old man?

Angry and disappointed, Hadrian looked for what had finally tripped him up. It took several seconds of staring to understand what he was seeing. It failed to make sense in so many ways that his mind took a great deal of convincing to finally accept it.

Three steps back, the Calian was sprawled on the wet stone. Hadrian knew him by the burgundy wrap, the green scarf, and the box. These features provided the identity rather than his face, because he no longer had one.





Chapter Fifteen

Bird Hunting





Royce leapt from the roof of the four-story building and landed on the slate tiles of the structure on the opposite side of the street. He ran to the ridgeline and sprinted along it. A slender figure in a dark, hooded cloak ran with abandon ahead of him. Racing entirely across rooftops, Royce had pursued his quarry out of the congested dwarven district toward the center of town. At that moment, the cathedral’s soaring tower began tolling ominous peals of cascading notes, providing musical accompaniment for the drama unfolding against the starry night sky.

With buildings tightly packed, the canopy tour had been without serious challenge. Still, Royce’s prey had been impressive. He’d proved more than comfortable with heights. He was fast, agile, and clever in his maneuvers. The moment his quarry had decided to make his flight across the high ground, Royce experienced a giddy sense of victory. Rarely did a target act so agreeably. Rather than trying to disappear into the unfamiliar maze of city streets, this guy was like a bird trying to escape a shark by diving into the ocean. Royce’s sense of jubilation was soon replaced with a rush of excitement at finding an unexpected challenge. This bird, he was stunned to discover, could swim.

Ahead was trouble. They were at the end of the easy jumps. Before them was another street-imposed gap, a wide one, and on the far side, the vertical wall of a much taller building.

Royce expected his prey to slow, to hesitate, to double back or climb down. Any of these would have granted Royce the opportunity to catch up to a lethal distance. Instead, once more his little bird did the unexpected. Reaching the end of the building, the figure didn’t slow or pause. Instead, he made a running leap directly at the wall of the taller building. He missed the wall and smashed through a window, taking down a curtain. Royce was right behind, diving through the narrow opening of shattered glass. He expected his bird to be on the floor tangled in cloth and bleeding from cuts. All he found was the glass-laden drape and an open door creaking slightly.

Royce rolled to his feet, bolted out the door, and raced down a corridor into a very strange place. He almost ran into a knight before discovering it was merely pieces of armor stacked in the shape of a man. It even held a spear in one of its gauntlets. Royce found himself on an upper-story indoor balcony that circled a large four-story chamber. No one was in the building. This was a public business of some sort, and at that late hour, the place was dark except for the glow of streetlamps entering the windows. Below, were numerous displays: pedestals supporting statues, books, musical instruments, tools, even clothing on stuffed dummies. In the center stood a huge chariot and two stuffed white horses. Much of one wall was covered in a mural depicting the landscape of an impossibly grand city lit by a perfect summer sun. Paintings in lavish frames covered the other walls. Hanging from the ceiling were still more oddities. The most eye-catching was a massive creature that looked to be a dragon suspended over the center of the chamber by several chains. The thing was huge, but not real. It appeared to be made of painted cloth wrapped over a wooden frame.

Distracted by the bizarre nature of the place, which seemed to be some kind of curio shop, Royce gave up several seconds to his fleeing quarry. The sound of shattering glass pulled his attention back. He spotted the figure breaking a window on the far side and raced around the balcony to the broken opening. Outside was a sheer drop to the street; his prey had gone up.

The climb wasn’t trivial. Several of the handholds were no more than fingertip-sized, but his bird had scaled the wall quickly. Before Royce was halfway up, his quarry was on the roof. A moment later a series of slate shingles flew his way. The first barely missed him, shattering on the stone to the left of his face. Royce had to duck the second, which he heard as it passed. More were coming.

With a lurch, Royce leapt up and caught hold of one of the grotesque downspouts. This one looked like an evil, sharp-toothed dog, snarling and extending a long serpent’s tongue. He hugged the statue around its neck as another shingle clipped his boot. The impact stung. If it had hit his head, Royce would’ve fallen. The next shingle came, this one aimed higher. Royce managed to catch it as he dangled one-handed from the dog’s head. His enemy boldly straddled the ridgeline. The rising moon was behind him, giving a silvery outline to his whipping cloak that snapped in the wind. With his adversary’s hood up, all Royce could see was a nose, part of a cheek, and a chin.

I’m chasing myself.

Royce waited until his opponent bent down to pry up another slate before throwing the one he’d caught. Slate shingles weren’t knives, and his throw was off. Royce had aimed at the hood, but it hit his target in the thigh. Despite the bad aim, he was rewarded with a grunt.

Royce pulled himself up on top of the dog’s head, then sprang to the eave, catching the lip. Another strong pull and he was crouching on the roof. He scanned the ridgeline. The shingle-thrower had abandoned his attack and was back to running. He sprinted along the peak, then veered right, following a long gable. It acted like a plank extending off the side of a ship. By the time Royce reached the gable, his prey had made the long jump across the gap of an alley, which separated the strange shop from Grom Galimus—the same alley where, only hours earlier, he and Hadrian had followed the dwarf. His hooded bird landed safely on the far side, touching down on another gargoyle, its ugly head protruding out from the side of cathedral’s buttress. Royce made the same leap, landing on the same stony head: a hideous lion with fangs that extended well past its lower jaw.

By then, Royce’s twin was already climbing up the buttress’s pier, a sheer column of stone.

They were already up five stories. Royce could see the plaza out front, where the massive statue of Novron looked tiny. What he’d thought to be a curio shop was the Imperial Gallery, whose roof he was now looking down at. Still, they were only halfway up the side of the cathedral.

Slab after slab, ornate divider after divider, Royce scaled the stone pier in pursuit.

Who is this?

Royce had never encountered anyone who could match his skill at climbing, his ease in high places, or his ability to see in dim light. This hood-and-cloak really could be his long-lost brother. With each foot they scaled together, Royce’s respect for his adversary grew. Even if this guy wasn’t connected to the job, Royce couldn’t give up this chase.

I’ve got to find out who this is.