by J C Maynard
“Well we eat those with every meal since we can grow them here in the dark.” said Tallius. “Of course these two don’t have to deal with all of this every day.” He pointed at the Bernoils.
“You have a life on the surface, I’m guessing?” asked Lillia.
Dalah nodded. “Cal, Aunika, and I live up in Seirnkov with our parents. We generally stay there for three or four days and then come down here for another three or four days. It’s rare for the Evertauri to be that lenient for us, but Aunika convinced the Council before Cal and I joined that it would work.”
“It was a condition for our loyalty.” said Calleneck.
“Most Evertauri who live on the surface run businesses that directly aid the Evertauri,” said Dalah “but some like us live there because of family; we live with our mum and father. We have had some quarrels with them in the past, so they think that half the time we are staying with our Aunt Shelln and Uncle Gregt just to get some space. Our uncle was never very close to our father and didn’t ever tell him that he and his wife and our cousin moved away — out East near the Erricurr. They worked as doctors and charged next to nothing because they wanted the poor to have access to medicine; but that eventually forced them to move out of the city three years ago.”
“Your parents never found out they don’t live in Seirnkov anymore?” asked Lillia.
“No,” said Calleneck, “our parents aren’t in touch with our aunt and uncle due to the falling out; and the few letters either sends to each other go straight to the Evertauri’s mail and delivered to us. We forge letters back to them. Our aunt and uncle and cousin now think that our parents know they moved, and our parents are convinced that we are staying with them half the time.”
“Lillia, do you have a dorm room yet?” asked Little Dalah, changing the subject.
“Sir Kishk was supposed to assign me one, but he didn’t have time.”
“You can room with Aunika and me tonight. We should be able to find out more about what she’ll be up to . . . or maybe not, since high-level operations are usually classified.”
Lillia agreed and the girls left the eating hall, followed shortly by Calleneck and Tallius.
Tallius looked up at a high balcony on which Dalah and Lillia walked and brushed his hand through his hair. “Say Cal, what’s the likelihood her rosy cheeks reddened more when she glanced at me?”
Cal punched him in the side and shook his head. “The last thing you want is a relationship in the Evertauri.”
Tallius smiled, “No one would have to know.”
“What makes you think she’d be into you?”
“What makes you think she wouldn’t?”
“Do you have a spare hour?” Calleneck laughed.
As they walked, both tried not to look at the two corpses that still lay on the cold stone floor of the Nexus.
Nightsnakes
Chapter Five
~Evening, August 23rd
Kyan’s feet dangled off of the theatre rooftop. The sun was starting to set over the Palace hill. He looked back up at the white and scarlet Palace far in the distance. It sat high above the city overlooking the entire valley and the sea beyond. The sun lit its many banners that waved in the breeze, and even beyond that, the waves of the sea rolled in and out. He imagined the senators and aristocrats peacefully watching the city in their long, flowing gowns. He thought of that wretched royal family on their thrones. He stood up, picked up a rock from the roof, and hurled it toward the palace.
Kyan’s long dark hair hung wild and unkempt; his dirt and blood stained shirt covered his thin frame. Looking in his pocket, he pulled out the six golden bracelets he had stolen from the brawling gypsies the day before and smiled. The clock tower chimed seven and he walked across a wooden board to an adjacent rooftop. He looked south and headed toward a massive region of buildings that rose crammed and crooked.
The fourth district was the only place where he could trade his loot without being caught by the Guard, the men in armor and scarlet capes who policed the streets of Aunestauna and kept a lookout for suspicious behavior. The Guard rarely ventured into the fourth district, as they thought it was too dangerous and a lost cause. Kyan chose to live in the third district because of the higher concentration of jewelry and goods; one couldn’t steal anything in the fourth district worth more than five or six argentums, the cost of a wool blanket. The slums housed the poorest people trying to get by, those plagued by gangs.
Kyan hopped down off of a roof and splashed into a puddle. A scrawny rat shot out from a hole in a building’s foundation. It scurried over the broken stone and murky mud of the dark street. People with somber faces and missing teeth passed by Kyan, sometimes bumping into him. Everyone dressed in dark colors, causing them to blend in with the dark, gnarled wood of the ramshackle houses. The sky was beginning to turn dark blue, and a single star appeared overhead.
Kyan turned into a shop with a shattered window and a leaning doorway. A small chime rang as he walked in, and a seven foot man opened a back door and entered the room. Little ornaments sat on shelves in the shop, and the man towered over it all. His ink black beard hung below his belly, and his eyebrows sat like bushes jutting out on his forehead. Just recovering from a coughing fit, the man greeted Kyan in a deep, raspy voice.
“You’re back. What’ve you got for me?”
Kyan reached in his pocket and threw down the six gold gypsy bracelets on a table. “Stole them yesterday.”
The man smiled and sat down at the table; he couldn’t fit his knees underneath. “These look like a gypsy’s.” The giant looked at Kyan, who stood a foot and a half shorter than him. He chuckled. “Got a bit of blood on your shirt.” His eyed the gold closely. “This all?”
Kyan reached in his pocket and pulled out a pile of watch parts, an intricate wooden talisman, three iron rings, and a jewel-lined pocket mirror and threw them on the table. The man inspected the objects. And looked up at Kyan under his massive eyebrows. “It’s worth eight argentums, but I’ll give you ten because I’m generous.”
Kyan clenched his fists — the loot was worth at least fifteen; ten argentums would only buy food for a week. He took a step forward and the man stood up from his chair, immediately dwarfing Kyan.
The giant drew a knife. “Or I can keep everything and force you out with no payment.”
Kyan hesitated, then took ten argentums from the man, put them in his pocket, and walked out the door. When he closed the door, he loosened its screws just in spite and continued to walk down the boulevard. Old men hunched in corners of the street and whispered as Kyan walked by. He heard a woman scream in the distance as he turned into an alley between two taller and abandoned buildings. May as well take a look around while I’m here. He looked behind him before opening a door into one of the buildings.
He could barely see inside of it; it appeared that he was in a kitchen of some sort. He opened cabinets and looked in shelves, all of which had nothing in them. The usually creaky stairs made no sound underneath Kyan’s light feet. On the second floor, Kyan slipped into a large room lined with shelves and decorated with a few sitting chairs. On the shelves sat just three old books so faded that the spines could not be read. Cobwebs hung across the ceiling beams and the furniture; there was nothing to be stolen.
Kyan decided to take one last look in the attic, where he found a spyglass that he shoved in his coat pocket. Opening a window, he seamlessly jumped onto the shingled roof of the adjacent house, opened a window below him and swung himself in. Same result: nothing worth stealing except a quill and ink and a rusty compass. He jumped from the window to a pole on the opposite wall, from the pole to another window, and onto the street. Bending down to tie his shoe, he noticed someone standing right behind him. He spun around and was instantly shoved into a wall; a hand and rag covered his mouth. The world tilted sideways and his mind went fuzzy. He tried to punch his attacker, but his arms and legs soon became limp and his eyes closed.
He woke up in the middle of
what seemed to be a vacant room of a manor; his body and limbs were tied to a chair. A curtain hung over a window to his right so he could not orient himself; a strip of moonlight shone on the dusty wooden floor. He looked around the unlit room; he was alone. Blood still stained his shirt, as he eyed his pockets for the coins given to him by the giant man; they were gone; so was his knife. The chair was bolted into the ground. He unsuccessfully tried twisting his arms out of the rope, and kicked and turned in his chair. He looked around the room again, able to pick out tables, mirrors, and paintings.
Waiting in silence, he jerked his head when a door behind him creaked open; multiple sets of footsteps clicked on the floor. A dark haired boy older than Kyan — mid twenties — grabbed a chair and sat directly in front of Kyan. He was tall and slender with a scar on his angular face. Although the boy was much bigger that Kyan, his steps barely made a sound. The other figures, who illuminated the room with candles, stood off to the side. The boy in front of him wore a very long, black cloak with the collars turned up around his neck; on his feet were extravagant leather boots; on his wrists were countless bracelets. Black gloves concealed his hands. His bright blue eyes pierced straight through Kyan and he scooted his chair so that his knees were touching Kyan’s.
The young man took in a breath that sounded like a hiss. “We’ve been looking for you, Kyan.”
Kyan glanced at the older boy’s pocket where Kyan’s knife rested. Kyan scoffed and shook his head, smirking. “What do you want? Trying to intimidate me isn’t going to work out for you.” Kyan’s heart rate steadily increased; his bluffing wasn’t working.
“Is that so? Just a matter of minutes ago, you were trying so violently to get out of your bonds. And why were you searching so frantically for your knife and stolen items?”
Kyan furrowed his eyebrows — he wasn’t there a minute ago. He walked through the door just now.
“And yet, when I opened and shut that door to pretend like I entered the room, your confidence soared.” The boy in his dark black outfit let his words hang in the air like a cloud of ice waiting to seep into Kyan’s body. “It’s natural to be afraid.”
Kyan remained silent in his chair, but his fists started to clench and sweat. The older boy smiled.
“Each one of us has been here since you awoke . . . Yes, yes . . . Unfortunate, really, that we had to put you under; we feared that you would not listen had we not tied you up . . . You think I’m bluffing?” The young man’s eyes looked to the side; Kyan’s eyes followed. Everyone was gone, and the candles sat on tables.
Kyan stared straight at the boy. “What are you playing at?”
“Just chipping away slowly at your sense of superiority . . . you’re not the only one who’s good at stealing.” The older boy pulled back his sleeve to reveal even more jewelry; he pulled off six gold gypsy bracelets and played with them in his gloved hands. Kyan’s eyes widened.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t jeopardize your relationship with your trading partner, I just thought they were . . . pretty. That old giant won’t realize they’re gone. And I like what you did with the door hinges . . . clever, dirty.”
“Who are you?” Kyan leaned away from the boy and realized that the others were once again standing right next to him, although he did not know when they appeared.
The boy ignored Kyan and went on, still smiling and peering into Kyan’s soul. “You’re talented, Kyan, and young too. I’ve been watching you for a couple months now. You’re rarely detected; although there was that one little slip with the old hatter two weeks ago. Nimble; you’ve never fallen off of a roof and you got down from that building out there very nicely. You just lack a certain . . . charm.”
“I don’t play well with others.”
The young man laughed. “And you think I do?” He pulled off one of his gloves; the hand had four fingers including a thumb, the other was a vein-covered, yellow stub. The boy took a sharp breath in and grabbed Kyan’s chin with the hand, pushing the deformed stub onto his lips.
Kyan tried to turn his head away. The young man laughed and tightened his grip. Pressure built inside Kyan’s mouth and jaw as the older boy squeezed; he felt trapped, unable to turn his head.
The young man smiled. “You’d be surprised how many people I’ve maimed or killed with these four fingers. This one was cut off by my mother . . .”
Kyan grunted as he tried to pull away from the older boy’s hand. He managed to slowly slip his left hand out of its binds, but did not want to use it yet.
The young man breathed in sharply through his nose, like a hiss. “Where is your mother, Kyan?” The older boy peered at Kyan from within his collared cloak and moved his face inches from Kyan’s, his hand still grabbing his face and his other, gloved hand stroking Kyan’s ruffled black hair. “I like your work, your style . . . You’re smarter than you think you are. I can tell that you have figured out who we are . . .”
Kyan glanced sideways, the others had vanished once again without any visible trace or sound.
“Look at me, Kyan!” He continued to stroke Kyan’s hair. “Yes, I see your free hand, Kyan. Yet, you have not tried to hurt me . . . you have figured us out, but you need confirmation, don’t you? . . . Go ahead. Do it . . .”
Kyan thrust his hand toward the boy’s neck and pulled down the collar of his cloak, revealing a large, red snake bite.
The boy grinned. “Very good . . . very good.” He released his hold on Kyan’s face, leaving red finger marks on his skin.
“You’re the Nightsnakes, aren’t you?” said Kyan.
“Indeed . . . my name is Riccolo.”
Kyan shook his head. “Nine thousand reported robberies, three hundred murders, an unknown number of thieves, no confirmed sightings, no names, but thousands of argentums worth of loot; I’ve read the Guard’s notices. You’re wanted all over Aunestauna, but I’m sure you know that.”
“Aunestaunans do not give us enough credit, it should be twelve thousand robberies and four hundred kills. The Guard won’t catch us. Especially when we erase their records of us in the Palace.”
“And what makes you so confident that you will never be caught?”
“If you were me you would be confident. Nobody realizes, but we control this city. People ask us to do dirty things, Kyan. We’ve never gotten caught.”
“Why steal?” Kyan asked.
“Why do you steal?”
“To get by.”
“And it has nothing to do with trying to take back the warm and safe life that the city stole from you? Nothing to do with trying to plunge the world into the darkness in which you so often find yourself? Nothing to do with hurting the city that rejected you? Nothing to do with anger?” Kyan sat still, Riccolo put his glove back on. “The Nightsnakes want you. You can do so much more here than as a street rat.”
“And you’re not a street rat?”
“I’m a rich street rat.”
“And what if I say no?”
“We can persuade you . . .”
“How do you do it? Steal thousands of argentums worth undetected like magic.”
“Is it magic that you can run from rooftop to rooftop without ever slipping? Or is it skill? We have pulled off thousands of crimes because we are the best, Kyan. You have not noticed us watching you because we are the best.”
“You want me to get the snakebite.”
“We believe you would be valuable.”
Kyan looked at the knife in Riccolo’s lap. “I work alone.”
Riccolo reached out and caressed Kyan’s hair. Kyan tried to grab his arm but found that his hand had somehow been retied to the chair. Riccolo whispered, “Now, Kyan, I’m a bit disappointed in you.” He sat up, put on the bracelets, grabbed Kyan’s knife and placed it on the ropes in his lap. “Release him.” Two Nightsnakes came and untied Kyan. Riccolo reached in his pocket and handed Kyan the ten argentums. “I’ll have Bay guide you out then. I’m afraid we’ll have to blindfold you until we get you further away from our building.�
� Kyan raised an eyebrow — it should not have been this easy to say no to the Nightsnakes. Kyan agreed to be blindfolded. As he was turned toward the exit to the abandoned pub, Riccolo grabbed him and whispered in his ear, “You have pretty hair, Kyan.”
Bay guided him to the alley where he was first knocked out and removed the blindfold. When Kyan turned around to see Bay’s face, he was gone. He turned the corner and began walking by moonlight back to the third district. Riccolo’s words rang in his ear, “You’d be surprised how many people I have maimed or killed with these four fingers. This one was cut off by my mother . . . Where is your mother, Kyan?”
Kyan turned perpendicular to the third district and trudged down a dark street until he got to a faded wooden sign that read, 64th Street Orphanage. He looked inside a side window at a sleeping boy with blonde hair, and stood there for a minute. In the corner of the old window was a scratch mark — a backwards ‘K’ read normally from the inside. When his blood turned icy cold, he walked by moonlight back to the third district.
After depositing his coins in a jar, he sat in his attic staring up at the stars through the gaps in the rafters. Soft orchestral music played in the theatre below him, but it did not help to lull him to sleep. He knew one thing at that moment: Riccolo would not have let him leave that easily without a reason, and that meant that Kyan needed to be cautious. Extremely cautious.
Winterdove Lane
Chapter Six
~Evening, August 28th
Seirnkov housed hundreds of thousands of Cerebrians. Much like Gienn to the South was the technological hub of Cerebria, Seirnkov drew business and government work. Unlike Aunestauna, with jagged, unorganized streets, Seirnkov’s infrastructure was built like a spider web, with some streets like radii and others that strung them together; its heart was Xandria’s fortress. The whole city rose higher toward the center, and bordering it towered a ring of white mountains, The Seirns. Even in the summer, the snowy peaks remained white and completely enclosed the city, save for a Southwestern valley that led out to the vast evergreen forests of Cerebria.