Dagger and Scythe

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Dagger and Scythe Page 12

by Emilie Knight


  “Thank you again for letting us stay.” That voice was Thomas; Dagger was sure of it.

  “It’s the least I could offer, brother,” the other voice said. “I can’t imagine your pain.”

  Thomas was silent for a long time and the other man, presumably Basil, let him have that moment.

  “I can’t even pass by her room.” Thomas’s voice was thick.

  “I understand why,” Basil said softly, “but you have Marella. You need to hold onto that.”

  “I know.” Thomas heaved a breath, “but she’s just so angry all the time. It can’t be healthy.”

  “People grieve differently.”

  “I suppose.”

  There was another moment of silence between them.

  Only being able to watch Scythe’s reaction to their words, Dagger noted how soft her eyes were. She was a creature who caused the living this pain, but she respected it.

  “Do you believe her?” the other man asked. “Do you think the man who took your daughter is here?”

  Thomas took his time before answering again, probably trying to get his thoughts in order.

  “Marella has never been a good liar,” he said. “I do believe her, Basil. And if it was the man we met on the road, I would gladly hang for murder if it meant avenging my daughter.”

  Dagger had never regretted taking a life before; he didn’t think he had the capacity. He’d never met their families however, and he was about to make it worse.

  “Get some rest, Thomas,” Basil said. “I wish I could say you’ll feel better in the morning. Given enough time, that will be true again. For Marella, too.”

  “Go hide in the kitchen,” Scythe said then. “Thomas just stood up.”

  Dagger didn’t want to leave, but he did. Scythe stayed by the arch. He watched from afar as Scythe stayed still and Thomas left for the parlor.

  Shortly after Thomas had gone, Basil entered the corridor. Scythe stood right next to him, yet Basil didn’t see her. Dagger left the kitchens and approached the man. As long as neither Dagger nor Scythe drew the attention of Basil, they would be safe.

  Basil had the same hair color as his brother, but nearly everything else was different. He was clean-shaven, with a pointed nose, and was dressed in a clean doublet. Given the size of his estate, he was certainly a wealthy man, but Thomas didn’t seem to share in that wealth. Where Thomas’s hands were rough with stonework, Basil’s were soft and manicured.

  Basil left the corridor and followed his family. Dagger and Scythe trailed a good distance behind him. Dagger paused at each entrance and doorway so Scythe could scout ahead for Thomas or Marella. Both of them had gone to bed, it seemed. The woman who had left with Marella was nowhere to be seen either. Dagger could only assume she was Basil’s wife. She was about to be his widow.

  On the second floor, Basil stopped at a dark wood door and opened it. Dagger caught sight of bookshelves and a desk before Basil closed it again. Neither of them had been quick enough to sneak in behind him without being noticed. Pitch probably could have dodged his way in.

  “Did you see anyone else inside?” Dagger asked Scythe, who was in front of him.

  “No one,” she said. “It’s a private office.”

  “Good.” Opening the door to enter would draw attention and, in turn, break the spell for everyone inside.

  Dagger opened the office door, letting Scythe in behind him. Basil stood by the fireplace with a book in his hand, probably about to sit and enjoy it before bed. He looked up, catching Dagger’s eye as the spell was broken. Basil also noticed Scythe as she leaned against the door to keep it closed.

  “Who in the bloody name of Nyx are you people?” he demanded.

  Dagger let the cold-blooded thrill wash over him, but it was different this time: diluted. Basil was about to either shout or make another demand, but Dagger cut him off with a quick punch to the throat.

  The book nearly fell into the fireplace as Basil hit the floor, gasping. He had a hand on his throat, choking in air. Dagger hadn’t hit him hard enough to kill him that way, but it was enough to stop any more screams. Just to be sure, he took out a black handkerchief and stuffed it into Basil’s mouth.

  Basil swung at Dagger, but Dagger avoided it easily. This man was a merchant not a warrior. Still, Basil struggled. Dagger took his head and bashed it onto the wood-paneled floor. Again, not to kill but incapacitate. Basil fell limp, but his eyes were still aware and scared. Dagger tied off the gag and stood, grabbing a handful of Basil’s hair and wrenching him to his knees.

  Dagger unsheathed his weapon and pressed it to Basil’s soft throat. The other residents probably heard the noise. They’d have to be quick.

  Basil let a single muffled plea escape, then fell silent, waiting. In that instant, Dagger thought of Thomas again, along with Marella. Thomas was grief-stricken as it was, and Marella was dealing with her own anger. There was the other woman as well, Basil’s wife. Dagger’s hand was steady as always, but he couldn’t make it move.

  Dagger looked to Scythe leaning against the door. She was watching him with a wild gleam in her eye. She was waiting to see that first rush of blood. He couldn’t blame her for that; he wanted it too. He still couldn’t move. This man had to die because of them. They had to complete the job for the sakes of all of the Incruentus Ferrum.

  Finally, his hand moved. He took the blade away from Basil’s throat. Flipping the dagger into the air he caught it by the blade. He held the hilt out to Scythe, unsure of the expression on his own face.

  He forced a smile through heavy-lidded eyes. He hoped it was close enough to the playfulness in the corridor below.

  “My lady?” he asked.

  Scythe beamed at the invitation. She practically skipped over to them and plucked the dagger from his hand.

  “Do you think Maniodes would mind?” she asked, hesitant but excited.

  “As long as the job is done, and we’re not seen, I think we’ll be fine.”

  Dagger kept hold of Basil’s hair, arching his head back. Scythe took her place beside Dagger. She didn’t hesitate and cut deep. Blood sprayed, painting a nice leather chair in droplets, then pulsed down Basil’s doublet. His eyes rolled white, and Dagger let him drop to the floor.

  Dagger knelt and pulled his handkerchief free from Basil’s mouth. There hadn’t been enough time for Basil to cough blood onto it. Standing back up he took the blade from Scythe and then cleaned it.

  “We should go,” he said, pocketing the blade and cloth. “You lead, like before.”

  Scythe retraced Basil’s steps back to the first floor and to the kitchens. They hadn’t crossed paths with a single soul, but as they stepped outside, a sharp scream woke the night. The scream forced Dagger to stop and look back at the house.

  “Are you alright, Dagger?” Scythe asked.

  Dagger didn’t bother replying. She would be able to see the lie. He couldn’t organize his thoughts properly to know what to say anyway.

  To his surprise, Scythe took his hand and squeezed it. He wasn’t sure why.

  He looked back at the house. Shadows crossing behind a window caught his eye. That window no doubt opened to the second-floor office, and the body had been found. A figure appeared in the window. Her hands were up to her face, and her shoulders shook. Her hair was down, but Dagger recognized the shade of it. He hoped Marella hadn’t been the one to find her uncle, but she was there nonetheless.

  Either because of the horrid sight or the feeling that she was being watched, Marella turned to face the window. She froze as she saw him. He and Scythe hadn’t bothered to hide in a shadow, and the moonlight was strong. Even so, there was no way Marella could identify the figure she saw on her uncle’s property. He knew who she suspected, regardless.

  “We have to go.” Dagger squeezed Scythe’s hand and quickly led her back to Lapis Street. He prayed his horse would still be at the stables.

  “Wait.” Dagger pulled Scythe to a halt, remembering her waiting for him back at the house. �
��How did you get here so fast? I had to ride for a day and a half, and it did not take you that long. Is there a dead tree nearby?”

  “There’s a dead willow about a league east of here. Pitch told me about it, so I was able to go directly there from Skiachora.”

  “Thank the bloody gods,” Dagger sighed, hurrying off again. They could leave the damn horse behind and make straight for the tree. Once in Skiachora again they could make a tunnel back to the dead oak in their own home.

  “What’s the rush, Dagger?” Scythe asked.

  “I just need to get home,” he said. “I’ll explain more tomorrow night.”

  As they rounded the last corner, with the city gates in sight, the last thing Dagger needed caught his attention. He heard running footsteps behind, trying to catch up to him.

  Dagger ducked into an alley, dragging Scythe behind.

  “What?”

  “Shh,” he hissed.

  There wasn’t time to hide. Marella came barreling around the corner. She wasn’t even dressed for the cold night. She had a thin robe over her nightgown and slippers on her feet. Her face was flushed with the run as well as rage.

  “I knew it,” she said. “I fucking knew it.”

  “Marella, what are you doing out like this?” Dagger said, thinking fast. “I thought that guard walked you home. Well, clearly he did, given the nightgown.”

  “Don’t you act all innocent,” she nearly screamed, stalking forward. “You murdered Uncle Basil!”

  “What? I’ve been on this end of the city all night.”

  “He’s been with me all night,” Scythe said next to him.

  “And who are you? Some whore he picked up for an alibi?”

  “I’m his wife,” Scythe said, getting closer to Marella.

  Dagger kept hold of Scythe’s hand to hold her back. He couldn’t let Scythe get too close lest she kill Marella.

  Marella’s eyes blazed at this new fact. “The wife who is supposed to be back home in the eastern mountains?” she accused.

  “Fuck,” Dagger cursed. His cover had been destroyed.

  “You’ve got balls, girl,” Scythe said, laughing at Marella. “Not many would chase down a killer in their nightie.”

  Scythe might be complimenting her, but Dagger saw her hand drift to her weapon tied to her waist.

  “He murdered my sister,” Marella growled. “You’re married to a monster!”

  “He suits me just fine. We’ve both done much worse.”

  Scythe’s casual tone infuriated Marella even more. He had no idea why Scythe was antagonizing Marella, but it had to stop. If Scythe killed Marella they were all dead.

  Dagger pulled Scythe back and forced himself between the women. “Listen, Marella—”

  He hadn’t exactly planned what he would say to calm her down, but it didn’t matter. He only saw the glint of a kitchen knife before it was buried into his chest. Marella missed his heart, but she also missed a rib. The blade had slid through and punctured his lung. It was instantly harder to breathe.

  “That’s for my sister,” Marella wrenched the knife free and made to stab again, probably in the name of her uncle.

  Dagger’s frustration snapped, and he defended himself. As Marella swung down a second time he grabbed her wrist, ripped the knife free, and plunged it into her own neck. Red filled his vision.

  “No, Dagger!”

  Scythe’s scream broke Dagger out of the red haze. His hand still held the handle of Marella’s knife while the steel protruded from her flesh. She could only stare at him, wide-eyed and properly scared now. Blood poured from her lips and through his fingers.

  “No!” Dagger pulled the knife free causing more blood to spray.

  Marella collapsed, and Dagger guided her to the ground. He clasped a hand over the wound to try and stop the bleeding. Marella choked and gurgled as the life drained past his fingers. The rage and fear faded from her eyes. Everything faded from her eyes.

  “Fuck!”

  “Dagger.” Scythe knelt beside him.

  He could feel the air rushing through the hole Marella had left in his lung as he tried and failed to control his panic. He couldn’t look away from her face. He’d never wished another person to be alive as he did now. Even with his own father, he’d accepted that fate.

  The ground beneath them shook. The sound of breaking stone drew their gaze to the alley behind them. The earth cracked open, revealing a staircase down to Skiachora.

  Chapter 20

  In all of her time, Scythe had only been summoned like this once before. When Maniodes was angry he usually sent a sentry or a bat. The only other time he’d cracked open a doorway like this was after she raided that village with Dagger.

  Dagger stood facing the staircase. Scythe stood as well and took his hand. His face was calm, but his hand spoke otherwise. It kept trying to clench into a fist, even while enveloping her hand.

  “You should leave,” Dagger said. His voice gurgled as his blood spilled out of place around his lung. Other than that, he sounded steady. “Don’t go back to our estate, just hide. You weren’t involved in this, but he won’t care.”

  “I’m involved as much as you are.”

  Dagger finally met Scythe’s eyes, and she saw the faint waver.

  “Maybe we can convince him to be lenient?” Scythe suggested.

  Dagger chuckled nervously at the idea. A stream of blood fell from the corner of his mouth. Scythe didn’t believe they could convince Maniodes of anything either.

  The staircase led through the earth into the cold darkness. Dagger swallowed more blood and started to descend. Scythe kept hold of his hand, keeping pace next to him. The alleyway closed, locking them in darkness. The descent was long, and for every step, Scythe’s heart beat twice as fast. The only comfort she had was Dagger’s nervous breathing beside her.

  She’d finally found a man who cared for her after one hundred years. A man who thought and felt the same way she did. She had never actively looked for a man, and she had made a promise to herself that in death she wouldn’t need one. She was actually glad that promise had been broken.

  Scythe stopped walking and pulled Dagger to a halt. He turned back, confused but grateful. The exit had closed above them so there was no hope of escape, but they could prolong the inevitable.

  Scythe was on the stair just above Dagger’s, making them almost the same height. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. She pressed her lips to his, tasting his blood. He buried one hand in her hair while the other caressed up her back. It felt like they stood there for an eternity, but that was still too short.

  When they finally pulled apart, Scythe had to take a moment to gather her breath and thoughts again. Dagger spat blood and stayed quiet as well.

  “We’ll both be dead at the end of this,” Scythe finally breathed.

  “I’ll convince him otherwise,” Dagger said, echoing her earlier words.

  She smiled at the thought, resting her forehead against his.

  “We should keep going,” Dagger said.

  Scythe wanted nothing more than to stay, but she nodded. She took Dagger’s arm again and they continued down.

  A soft grey light appeared below them. They stepped from the last stair through the dead tree into Skiachora, onto the gravel and dirt. Maniodes’s castle loomed above them as before. Dagger spat more blood as they entered it.

  The main entrance was totally empty; even the sentries were gone. She found them quickly enough when they entered the throne room. Hundreds of skeletons in armor lined the walls, as if waiting for them.

  Pitch stood anxiously in the corner behind the throne, and Axe was there as well to watch the proceedings. Maniodes himself was seated on his black marble throne, waiting for them. His dark-blue hair was ruffled, as if his frustration at them couldn’t be contained. His iron shield was strapped to his back.

  The Goddess of Death stood in front of them below the dais. Her raven hair fell to her waist, and her black-and-w
hite eyes studied them. The human bone was held out before her, no doubt containing the souls of Marella and her uncle.

  Dagger and Scythe knelt before the goddess, heads bowed. The feeling of Nyx watching them crawled down Scythe’s back. Maniodes may have towered over the childlike form his mother took, but she held all of the power. Her word was the final say.

  She could almost cut the tension in the air with her scythe.

  “I gave you one task,” Maniodes started, disappointed. “To watch each other to make sure this didn’t happen again. To keep order, not cause havoc.”

  Scythe clasped her hands together in front of her to keep them steady. Dagger appeared as calm as ever, watching the floor at Nyx’s feet.

  “In all honesty, I expected you, Scythe, to go against my orders,” Maniodes said.

  It was Scythe’s fault, whether or not she held the blade. She antagonized Marella into attacking, and she’d given away Dagger’s lie. Not that she knew what he had said to the woman, but she should have stayed quiet to let Dagger try to calm her.

  “Spare Scythe,” Dagger pleaded. He looked up at Maniodes. “This wasn’t her fault. I killed Marella, and I hadn’t been careful enough at the wedding.”

  “What does the wedding have to do with this?” Maniodes asked, surprised.

  “You know her name,” Nyx overrode Maniodes. Her voice was smooth and unnerving.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Dagger said, answering Nyx first. “I met her and her father, Thomas, on the road to Chalcis. The man on the list, Basil Paavo, had been her uncle and his brother.”

  “And the wedding?” Nyx asked.

  “The girl I chose there was Marella’s sister. Marella saw us talking, but she did not see me take her sister’s life,” Dagger explained.

  “Do you know the sister’s name?” Nyx asked.

  Dagger thought for a moment then answered. “No, Your Grace.”

 

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