Banebringer

by Carol A Park

She stared at him. My serv… And the pieces fell together. Of course. Why else would someone be desperate to remove a Hunter?

  “You’re the one who wanted to hire me to kill a Hunter,” she guessed.

  He looked relieved, as if her recognition of him would mean she didn’t have to kill him.

  She relaxed. This was going to be easier than she had thought. This was no enemy or family of a hit who had discovered her identity. It was one naïve idiot. Perfect.

  “Yes,” he said. “Exactly. I—”

  She allowed her relief to bleed into her voice. “My second turned you down, so you thought you would track me down yourself to convince me?”

  “Well—”

  “You’re an idiot.” Or a good actor. She was wagering it was the first. She tended to recognize good actors, since she specialized in it herself.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m also desperate.”

  “What’s the name of the target?”

  “It’s Ri Gildas of Ferehar,” he said.

  So she and Aleena had guessed right. Did Gildas know a Banebringer was after him? If he did, by issuing a matching contract, he had ensured that whatever assassin decided to take him up on it would get an unpleasant surprise upon executing the terms. It seemed an unlikely action for a Hunter, whose job it was to find and Sedate Banebringers so they didn’t have to be killed.

  Perhaps now that she had to find a way to safely kill him, she should go ahead and turn in the contract. But blood-money from Gildas? It was almost more satisfying to think of how his quality of life must have degraded of late, and how she could prolong his anxiety by simply not turning in the contract.

  “Hm. A worthy mark,” she said.

  Both of his eyebrows rose. “You know him?”

  “Of him. Let’s just say we’ve had some…unpleasant dealings in the past.” That was putting it mildly. But all she wanted was to make this man feel more comfortable, not to share her life’s story.

  “Then will you at least hear me out?”

  She paused before answering, as though considering. “Perhaps,” she said. “But not here.”

  With almost perfect timing, Caira’s babe whimpered. Men tended to be more trusting of women whom they viewed as taking on the role of a mother.

  It was a calculated risk, but she couldn’t kill him here, for multiple reasons, and she had to get him to her rooms before the sedative took hold. She dropped her hand and stood up.

  The man sat up. “Can’t say as I’ve ever wanted a woman to get off me so badly,” he said.

  Unamused, she turned her back on him, picked up the babe, and cradled him in her arms, murmuring to him until his cries subsided.

  “I do not meet clients in my inn, for obvious reasons,” she said quietly, without turning around. “Can you turn yourself invisible again?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Good. Do so, and follow me back to my rooms.”

  Chapter Four

  Demonspawn

  Vaughn knew with absolute certainty that this was a bad idea. While Sweetblade’s determination to kill him naturally had subsided upon learning he was a Banebringer, would she really consider his contract? What if this was a trap so she could turn him over to the Conclave?

  He chewed on his lower lip, watching while she handed over the babe to one of the women before heading back to her rooms.

  It was strange, but for a seasoned killer, she didn’t seem so bad.

  No, he decided. She was a criminal. She would want to avoid the law, not draw attention to herself by handing over another criminal, however large the reward.

  And if he sensed something was about to go wrong, he could still disappear.

  Whatever the case, he had no other options left to him. It was either this or limp back to the compound and admit defeat.

  Once they were in her rooms again, she invited him into her study and gestured to a chair across from her desk. “Sit,” she said, and he obeyed. She paused at a cabinet in the corner that held a respectable collection of liquor. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Thank you, that would be…” He paused and met her eyes. They were unreadable. Don’t you think you’ve had enough stupid for one day? “Ah, actually, I think I’ll pass.”

  She inclined her head to one side and sat down without getting anything for herself. She tapped the point of her blade lightly against the desk and then set it down in front of her. “So, tell me, Heilyn. Why are you seeking to remove Ri Gildas?”

  “I should think that would be obvious,” he said, watching her now run one finger along the flat of the blade, as though caressing a lover.

  “Indeed. But surely you’ve realized the futility of having anyone associated with the Conclave eliminated.”

  “As I said. I’m desperate.”

  “Mmmm,” she said. She was still watching him with those unreadable, glimmering eyes.

  He shifted nervously. “So what do you want to know?”

  “Time, place, method?”

  “I, ah…” He hadn’t thought it through that much. Did it matter? He felt oddly confused by the question. “I don’t know as…” He blinked a few times. Was the room getting hazy?

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t feel well,” he said, more to himself than her.

  “Indeed?”

  Damn! He lurched from his chair and stumbled to the side. “You—you—”

  She didn’t move. Just watched him as he sank to the ground, knees suddenly unable to support his weight.

  How had she done it? He hadn’t…had he? His head was cloudy. He couldn’t think. “You tricked me,” he muttered. He was on all fours now, head hanging to the ground. No. No, no, no.

  He sensed her getting up and moving closer, and then after he finally collapsed completely onto the ground, something hard pressed into his back. He couldn’t even lift his head to look, couldn’t move his arms as she tied his wrists, and then ankles, together behind his back. Could only lay there, helpless, feeling like his entire body had suddenly tripled in weight.

  Her hazy outline knelt next to him, and her face came into focus for a moment. “Understand, Heilyn—if that is indeed your name—this is nothing personal.”

  “Promise me you’ll kill me,” he heard himself say, though his speech was slurred.

  “Pardon?”

  He couldn’t see her expression. His eyes had closed. “Don’t turn me over to the Conclave. I would rather die. Please.”

  There was a lengthy pause, and then, “I give you my word.”

  The last sound he heard before blackness was her wry addendum: “For what it’s worth.”

  A few minutes later, Ivana stared down at the unconscious form of Heilyn—the poor, stupid man—Aleena now at her side.

  She had been relieved that the sedative she had applied to her blade before leaving her rooms had worked on him. She knew virtually nothing of the powers Banebringers had; for all she knew they couldn’t be sedated in the more traditional sense.

  In any case, it had worked, and she had him at her whims. Now she had to haul him out of the inn and preferably out of the city without being seen by anyone who cared.

  “I’m reluctant to involve you in this,” she said to Aleena, “but I’m afraid I can’t get him out on my own.”

  “I am ever at your service, Da,” Aleena said.

  Ivana snorted. “Insubordination, now? I’ve clearly given you far too many liberties.”

  Aleena grinned and opened her mouth to, no doubt, give some rejoinder, but instead, she turned toward the study door. “What’s that?”

  Ivana heard it as well. It sounded like shouting coming from outside. She stepped out of the study, crossed the living area, and pulled back the curtain on the single window in her rooms to look outside.

  An orange glow flickered off the buildings near the end of the street.

  Fire?

  But that guess was proven wrong a moment later when the head of a mob turned the corner and began marchi
ng down the street.

  At first, she couldn’t see well enough in the dark to make out what was happening, but by the time they had reached the square, enough people with torches had arrived, and combined with the moonlight, she could see two men in the front of the crowd dragging a young woman between them who had obviously been beaten.

  This didn’t bode well.

  Aleena joined her at the window. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Ivana said, “but it doesn’t look good.” She glanced toward the study. Heilyn could wait long enough for her to see what was happening. He would be out for hours.

  She hurried out of her rooms and to the door of the inn, Aleena on her heels.

  Her inn was one of a number of businesses that formed a ring of buildings around a large, mostly empty square. The square was used for free-standing markets and events during festivals; the raised platform in the middle sometimes became a stage for plays or a dais for royal—or religious—proclamations.

  The mob was already spilling into the square from the narrower street beyond, filling it quickly. A few of her neighbors stepped out of their doorways in the square, rubbing at tired eyes and staring in astonishment at the mob. One of them took off running in the opposite direction—either to get help or to get away.

  The two who held the woman shoved her to the platform, and the mob circled it.

  Now that she was outside, and the crowd was closer, she could understand the shouting.

  “Demonspawn!” one woman cried, echoed by a dozen others.

  A low chant was behind it all. “Sedate her! Sedate her!”

  Ivana knew immediately what was happening; it was a flash Hunt.

  They usually formed after the annual sky fire, when that year’s Banebringers had just been created. Eager to take vengeance on the cause of the fresh slew of monsters roaming the land, crowds would flare into existence, rounding up anyone suspected of having become a Banebringer. It didn’t usually end well, whether the person accused was a Banebringer or not. Every once in a while, it happened at other times of the year as well.

  The two holding the woman on the platform were joined by another, an older woman, who was yelling at the crowd. “…performed her demon magic on my son!”

  The accused woman looked both terrified and furious. “He was injured!” she shouted. “I was just trying to help! It’s all I’ve ever tried to do!”

  One of the men holding her backhanded her, and she reeled backwards, falling into the second man, who shoved her forward.

  She stumbled and sank to her knees, shoulders shaking.

  The mob surged forward, pressing closer to the platform, eager for blood.

  Ivana clenched and relaxed her fists as she watched the unfolding scene. This was bad. This was very bad. If that woman died, who knew what kind of horror could be spawned? She and everyone in the vicinity were in danger, and not from the mob.

  But she could do nothing but watch and hope the crowd had enough sense to control themselves.

  Not likely.

  Then, a new sort of shouting heralded the arrival of the Watch. At least a dozen of them fanned out through the crowd, trying to keep peace before the mob got out of control, but they were too late. The incensed crowd paid almost no attention to the soldiers, armed though they were, and the tops of their tusked helms swayed this way and that as they themselves were swallowed into the mob.

  The crowd finally parted for a single man riding on a horse. He had the double stripe on his shoulder of an officer, and he spurred his mount through the crowd and dismounted at the platform. He stepped to the top and held a conversation Ivana couldn’t hear with the men holding the woman.

  The men with the woman held their hands up, and the crowd slowly quieted.

  “The Watch will take over from here,” the officer said. “She will be properly tested and Sedated if need be.”

  A murmur of dissent moved through the crowd.

  Even so, the officer gestured sharply to two of his men, who then made their way to the platform and took hold of the woman’s arms.

  “No!” she cried, struggling. “Please!”

  “Demonspawn!” a man in the crowd cried. “Don’t let her speak!”

  The accused woman’s voice rose an octave. “Please! Have mercy!”

  And then someone threw a rock.

  The rock struck the woman squarely on the side of the temple, and the soldiers let go and backed away as another rock sailed their way.

  She felt Aleena tense next to her. Ivana had rescued her from this exact situation—only not because Aleena was a Banebringer. This couldn’t be easy for her to watch.

  The woman panicked and tried to flee, only to be met by a wall of shouting people on every side.

  She was a caged animal, darting this way and that, trying to avoid the increasing hail of rocks and other airborne objects.

  Ivana cursed. Idiots. There were few scenarios in which this would end well.

  “Aleena,” Ivana said, having to raise her voice to be heard above the crowd. “Go back inside, gather the girls and the children, and take them out through the kitchen. Rouse any guests on the way and make them aware of the situation.”

  “What about the…problem…in your rooms?”

  “It will keep. If there is still a reason to deal with it later, I will do so then.”

  “What are you going to do now, then?”

  “Remain to see what happens.”

  “And what are you going to do against—”

  “You have your orders. All of them.” Including what to do should the worst happen to her. Aleena would understand.

  Aleena put a hand on her arm, as if to pull her away. “Ivana—”

  Ivana rounded on her and shook her hand off. “Don’t,” she said, “test my patience.”

  There was a long pause. “Yes, Da.” Aleena slipped back inside.

  And then, someone in the crowd near to the woman screamed and pointed upward.

  Ivana followed her hand. A murmur of confusion ran through those in the back of the crowd, and then more in the front shouted as well, pointing, until it spread backward like a wave. The surging mob panicked, every individual finding him or herself as trapped as the woman in the middle.

  And then Ivana saw it too. Fiery black shapes diving through the air, into the crowd, and then back up again, white, jagged teeth glimmering in featureless faces.

  Demons? They looked far too much like the mythical depictions in storybooks to be real. And as she questioned what he saw, the feeling that they were real faded. She could see the shapes diving, but whereas before she could have sworn they were knocking people down, now it was apparent that they were passing harmlessly through.

  Not everyone was as quick to see through the illusion. One man took his rock and beat another man over the head with it. Ivana didn’t know what the man saw, but he obviously didn’t realize it was one of his fellow rioters.

  Hallucinations.

  She glanced back at the woman. Another manifestation of Banebringer powers?

  It didn’t take long for more people to realize the creatures weren’t real. A few from the mob looked around, puzzled and dazed, and soon the realization spread.

  An almost surreal lull in the chaos fell on the crowd as it collectively grasped what had happened.

  Then the crowd roared and swallowed the woman.

  Chapter Five

  The Bloodbane

  The mounted officer was frantic. “Stop!” he shouted. “Stop!”

  At least someone had sense.

  The center of the crowd, where the woman had disappeared, roiled with a blind rage, and Ivana turned around to look up at her inn. She didn’t see anyone peering out of the windows; at least they all had sense, unlike her.

  A moment later a woman shrieked from the middle of the crowd. “Demonspawn! She’s a Banebringer!”

  And now we find out how bad it will be.

  A jagged line of light split the air and then began to sep
arate, from top to bottom, like a seamstress ripping apart a seam. Ivana could still see in between the two halves of the ripped seam, but it was distorted, as though looking through a pair of spectacles she didn’t need.

  Everyone there froze, transfixed, unable to do anything but watch with morbid fascination to see what would happen next.

  The blur darkened, and then two pupil-less white eyes appeared against it. They roved one way in the darkness, and then the next.

  A woman screamed, and the mob broke apart. Panicked people attempted to flee in every direction, not caring who they pushed down or stepped on.

  The monster pushed its way through the tear, piece by terrible piece. Its frame was indistinct at first, edges licking backward into the tear like blurry flames, but the more of it that came through, the more concrete the details became.

  She shuddered as she gazed up at the emerging form. Burning skies. This was about as bad as it could get.

  “Da Ivana!”

  She turned. It was the baker’s son from next door, a pleasant man whom Ivana suspected had taken a fancy to her.

  He was gesturing wildly at her. “Get inside!” he shouted. “What are you doing?”

  She gave him a grim smile but didn’t move. He shook his head and fled into the illusion of safety that his store offered. In reality, there was no safe place against this monster.

  It wasn’t the first time she had seen a bloodbane that had been drawn to the tear in the veil between worlds that the death of a Banebringer caused, though this was by far the largest she had ever seen. She knew the strength of even the lesser ones and doubted the inn would offer much protection. In fact, being inside might be worse.

  The two strings of light that still hung dangling in the air now met together at the bottom end and sewed the blur back where it belonged.

  No such luck in the case of the monster. Fully through the tear, it unfurled itself to its full height—a bipedal as tall as the second story of her inn—and let out a deep roar that vibrated the cloth of her dress.

  It swung its head back and forth, watching the fleeing crowd with those terrible eyes, as if considering what course of action might produce the most chaos.