by Laura R Cole
*
Rhys slept through half the day after having searched high and low for the elusive snake. Finally, he’d been so tired that despite the danger, he went to bed.
When he woke, Jayson was there with eggs and bacon. The delicious aroma enticed him out of the warm embrace of his covers, and Rhys dug into the late breakfast with relish.
“There was an incident in the city today,” Jayson commented, a bit too casually.
“What kind of incident?” Rhys asked through a mouthful of eggs.
“A Lord Caverson was killed.”
Rhys almost choked. “What?”
Jayson’s eyes bored into him, as though trying to determine whether or not his surprise was real. Finally, he continued. “He was discovered by his servants this morning, having been stabbed to death in his bed. There was nothing that the servants reported missing, so it is assumed to have been an assassination.”
“Nothing that his servants reported missing?” Rhys repeated, noticing Jayson’s odd tone. “Does that mean there was something missing that they didn’t report?”
Jayson smiled. “Well, if I woke up and found you dead I might be tempted to take a few things myself and not report them,” he joked.
Rhys shoved him in the shoulder.
The man sobered. “In all seriousness, there were rumors of something strange going on in the dungeons, and I heard that the floor gave out down there. Almost as if someone decided to cover it up.”
“How strange.” His mind whirled. He thought of Laris. Could the man have decided to take vengeance on the man for committing acts he so obviously disagreed with? “Might it have been an inside job?”
Jayson shrugged. “It was assumed so at first because the guards hadn’t ever been alerted, and as far as anyone can tell, there was no way in. But when the investigators saw the dagger, they suddenly all went quiet.”
“Why? What was so special about it?”
“I don’t know,” Jayson shrugged. “It had a black handle and a red blade, but that’s all any of the servants said about it. They’re all pretty shaken up.”
“I would imagine so,” Rhys agreed, feeling rather shaken himself. He pulled himself out of bed and threw on some clothes. More than ever he felt the pressing need to find the snake. “Do you know anything about snakes, Jayson?” he asked casually.
“Snakes? A bit I suppose. Why do you ask?” Jayson was obviously taken-aback by the strange request.
Rhys kicked himself for not having thought of a good reason before asking the question. Luckily, one came to him quickly. “I was just at the Gardens of Intrigue the other day and I saw one that had some kind of green slime coming out of it. I didn’t think that snakes had anything like that.”
Jayson thought for a moment. “I do seem to recall something like that, though I had no idea there was one in the Gardens. Perhaps I’ll have to go see it for myself.”
“What do you remember?”
“I believe it’s called a Lycant. It is a magical beast, though not one created by blood-magic so I’m not sure why it would be housed in the Gardens.” He paused and gave Rhys a penetrating stare. “You’re sure that’s where you saw it?” Rhys could tell he was beginning to get suspicious.
“Maybe I read about it or something and got mixed up; I don’t know why I thought about it just then. Is it poisonous?”
“Not usually, but it does have some rather unique qualities.”
Just then something caught Rhys’s attention out of the corner of his eye. There was a bit of glowing green goo at the foot of his armoire. He quickly moved so that Jayson’s gaze followed him away from the armoire. “Well, that’s nice. Thank you very much for the food. I can get myself ready; thank you.” He opened the door and ushered a reluctant and bewildered Jayson out.
He shut the door behind Jayson and sighed, leaning against it for a moment. Then he grabbed the sack from his bedside table – which he had mended during his search so there was no longer a hole. Very carefully, he opened the doors to the armoire and peered inside. There, lying peacefully in the back corner, was the Lycant. Rhys let out a breath slowly and drew on the power to place a spell on the creature. Once again, seeing as how it was already motionless, nothing happened.
He reached forward to pick up the snake and place it in the bag. This time, it didn’t go willingly. Just as Rhys’s hand was within reach, the snake burst to life and shot straight up his sleeve. He leapt backwards, his skin crawling as the reptile moved around in his shirt. It took all his might to keep himself from batting at it, but he didn’t want to provoke the animal into biting him, poisonous or not.
“The animals arrived safely at their destination,” a female voice behind him said.
Rhys tried not to jump at the sound or from the snake now slithering into his pants. He turned around slowly to see the same girl who had given him the task the other night. She was strikingly, if darkly, beautiful in the light.
“Now all that remains is for you to produce the snake.” She looked at him expectantly and he clamped his jaw while the snake coiled itself into his undergarments.
Not taking his eyes off the woman, he slowly reached into his pants. She raised her eyebrows at his motion, and she started to protest until she saw the Lycant in his hand. She smiled.
“I see snakes like you as much as they do your mother.” Rhys held out the snake, but drew it towards him once again when she reached for it. She frowned. “The deal is not complete until you hand it over.”
“There was nothing in the deal about someone being murdered either. And what do you mean about my mother?”
The woman looked him over, and the easy smile spread slowly across her face again. “We were just as shocked to hear about the murder as you. We could not get in ourselves, which is why it was your test to do so. It is very impressive that someone else managed the feat. As for your mother,” she paused, “I only meant she is much admired in certain circles for her expertise. At one time, she worked quite well with a snake of her own.” Her eyes grew dark. “Now, if you want our support, give me the Lycant.”
Rhys reluctantly handed the reptile over to her, still not satisfied with either answer. If she truly thought that he would believe so easily that they had nothing to do with Lord Caverson’s death, she was sadly mistaken. The timing was just too coincidental. As she whipped her cloak around to leap back out his window, his fears were confirmed. Hanging off her belt was a very unique dagger – black handled with a red blade peeking out from its scabbard.
He rushed to the window and looked out to see her descent, but she was gone before she hit the ground. A frantic knock sounded at the door, and Jayson let himself back in. “Is everything all right? I thought I heard voices.” He glanced around the room worriedly.
“Everything is fine, Jayson,” Rhys assured him, closing the window as he turned, still deep in thought. “My mother worked with the beasts that had been freed from the blood-magic portal, didn’t she?”
“She did,” Jayson agreed, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Do you remember hearing anything about her working with snakes?”
“There were all kinds of animals. I’m sure she did.” He paused a moment, then continued. “I do remember a particular story, actually, about a python that was a very sad case. I believe she was able to rehabilitate it despite even the Queen thinking it was beyond helping.”
Rhys sighed in relief. Perhaps he had been mistaken about the dagger too. After all, it had been only a fleeting glance as she leapt out the window.
“What’s with you and all the questions about snakes this morning?” Jayson asked, moving around him to pick up the burlap sack that Rhys had left abandoned on the ground.
Rhys tried to beat him to it but didn’t succeed. His muscles tensed as Jayson’s eyes swept across the floor behind it.
“What is this?” Jayson’s voice went up to a hysterical pitch. He wa
s pointing to the green slime puddle under the armoire.
Rhys cursed himself for not hiding it. “It’s from the Lycant. But don’t worry, it’s gone now.”
“It’s gone now?” Jayson gave him such a reproachful stare that Rhys actually felt a little ashamed.
“Look, it wasn’t being cared for and needed a new home. I just helped facilitate it getting there.”
Jayson looked as though he was trying hard not to say something he would regret. When he spoke it was through gritted teeth. “I find it hard to believe that someone would want to take this snake simply out of charity.” He paused to take a deep calming breath. “The unique abilities I mentioned it had?” He gave Rhys a penetrating stare. “That slime in your armoire is used to poison weapons. It may not be deadly as it is, but mix it with certain other substances and it becomes a fatal poison, impossible to detect. They are extremely rare because of this. They were hunted almost to the point of extinction.” He glanced back at the slime and shook his head. His tone became devoid of emotion. “I’ll get that cleaned up for you.”
Without another look at Rhys, Jayson left the room.
Rhys stood where he was for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head to clear it of the unpleasant thoughts. This only further committed him to his goal. Once he completed it, he would be in a position to right this wrong and ones like it. There was nothing he could do to change the past – only work towards a better future. He grabbed his things and marched out the door, sliding past Jayson as the man re-entered the room to clean up the slime. Neither said a word to the other.
In the city, Rhys tried to clear his head by focusing on watching the people around him. He didn’t need to run into Jak right now and keeping alert meant that he couldn’t dwell on other subjects. He wove his way through the crowd to the nearest tavern and plunked himself down at the bar. The bartender brought him spiced cider as requested and Rhys sipped it, peering over the top of his mug at the other patrons.
A man sat down beside him at the bar. Rhys watched him out of the corner of his eye. After a few minutes, the man turned to him. “I’ve got a proposition for you,” he said in a low voice, barely loud enough for Rhys to hear.
“I’m not interested,” Rhys told him flatly. Whatever he was selling, Rhys didn’t want it.
“This one you’ll be interested in, I promise,” the man continued, unfazed by Rhys’s refusal. The man slid a token across the bar towards Rhys. It had a picture of a bird.
Rhys glanced around and whisked this off the bar and into his pouch. This must be representative of the second of the three gangs that Michael had mentioned needed more convincing of Rhys’s worthiness. From the token, he knew the man was from a gang called the Crows. Their leader was a sly man who went by the name Mr. Black. Rhys hoped that Mr. Black’s request was simpler, and less deadly, than the last.
“Your task is to deliver the Bloodstone.”
Rhys choked on his cider. He coughed, trying not to drown on the teaspoon of liquid in his lungs. When he’d finally regained his breath he glared at the man for a moment then stared resolutely at his mug. “Are you insane?”
“You may return it afterwards; it has no value now that it’s broken anyway, but it will prove you are able to get into the palace vaults. It’s the only thing that will truly prove this as we are quite sure that not even you could convince the Queen to let you take it. She considers it extremely dangerous even now.”
“Yes, which is why it is completely impossible to get to!” Rhys hissed.
It also wasn’t worthless, and Rhys had a feeling that the man knew that. Though it no longer contained the power it once did, it was still an important artifact. While it might be difficult to fence something like that on the street, if you were well-connected enough, you could find a buyer willing to take the risk in order to add it to their collection.
The man shrugged. “That’s your problem. You want the support of the Crows, show Mr. Black the Bloodstone. If you get it, bring it to this address. No hurry.” The way he said it made it clear he thought Rhys had no chance. Rhys was rather inclined to agree with him.
The man got up and left after handing him a small slip of paper with an address. Rhys picked this up and stared down at it morosely. This day is just getting better and better.