“Yes.” Kodyn nodded. “But I haven’t been able to count them. Briana says there’s five, though.”
“Briana?” Ilanna arched an eyebrow.
Kodyn shot her an earnest look. “One of their prisoners. I’ve been talking to her through a hole in the warehouse ceiling.”
Ilanna narrowed her eyes. “And what has this Briana told you?”
“She’s blindfolded, so she can’t see how many men are guarding her and the other captives, but she counted the footsteps and thinks there’s four or five. Maybe six.”
“How many captives besides her?” Ria asked.
“She said that when they first brought her in a week ago, it was just her and two other men. But the killers—she called them the Gatherers—dragged the other men away. She’s in the room alone, and the guards don’t check on her too often. That’s why she could talk to me without fear of being overheard.”
The Hunter pursed his lips. “By your best guess, how many are in there at this moment?”
Kodyn’s brow furrowed. “With the five guards—let’s say six, just to be safe—I’d say there are twelve or fifteen. Only some of the men that left have returned.”
“And their leader?” the Hunter pressed. “Did you see who was in charge?”
Kodyn shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone who looked like they were calling the shots, but Briana said his name was Necroset Kytos.”
Ilanna cocked an eyebrow at the Hunter. “That name mean anything to you? He the one you’re looking for?”
“I’ve never heard of any Kytos.” The Hunter shrugged. “But if he’s in charge, likely he’s the one I’m here to deal with.” He scratched his scarred cheeks. “How well do you know the layout of the building?”
“Not at all.” Ilanna shook her head. “But the warehouses in Praamis tend to be the same. Lots of wide open space, with the rooms and floors on one end of the building.”
“The southern end.” Kodyn pointed to the side of the roof opposite where he’d been crouching. “Briana’s on the top floor, southeast corner of the building.” His finger indicated the middle of the roof. “There’s a skylight there, the only way in from up here. But if there are a lot of these Gatherers—”
“You let me worry about them.” The Hunter dropped a hand to the hilt of the ornate dagger at his hip. “And, if the rest of your assassins are half as good as him—” He indicated Errik with a thrust of his chin. “—we’ve got nothing to fear.”
“We can’t go in yet,” Ilanna said.
The Hunter cocked an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because, as Kodyn said, they’re not all in there.” Ilanna fixed him with a defiant gaze. “If we want to put an end to the killing, we’ve got to take them all down.”
“But what about Sid, Guild Master?” Kodyn asked. “And Briana, and all the others in there? You saw what they did to Arashi and the Bluejacket and all the others. Briana’s terrified, and I’m sure Sid’s scared, too. We’ve got to go in and get them.”
Ilanna sighed. She loved Kodyn for his desire to protect people, and hated that she had to stop him. “I’m sorry, Kodyn.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “We have to wait until the rest of these Gatherers arrive. It’s the only way to scoop them all up.”
“Might I make a suggestion, Guild Master?”
Ilanna was surprised to hear Aisha speak. She’d been so focused on Kodyn and the task at hand that she hadn’t heard the Phoenix apprentice or Errik and his Serpents come up behind her. She turned to the young Ghandian girl. “I’m listening.”
Aisha hesitated only a moment before speaking. “Back in my village, my mother was the greatest hunter in our tribe. But, unlike the men who hunted with her, she didn’t chase the prey. Instead, she set out bait to bring them to her, then took them down from a macham, an elevated platform in the tress.”
Ilanna pursed her lips. “Go on. What did you have in mind?”
“Kodyn says that only some of the Gatherers are in the building, but that can work in our favor.” Aisha gestured to their small crew. “There are few of us, so fewer enemies means an easier victory. Then, all we need do is lie in wait as the rest of the killers return to their lair.”
“Where we spring the trap.” Errik nodded. “A good plan. Kill or capture the ones inside the building, then take the others as they come.”
“Yes, Mother!” Kodyn pressed. “We could free Briana, Sid, and the others.”
“Just one problem with that,” the Hunter growled. “The demon.”
Kodyn and Aisha both looked puzzled by the Hunter’s words—they hadn’t seen his inhuman abilities, and they hadn’t heard his speech about hunting the demon masquerading as a human. But she could fill them in later, once they’d dealt with these Gatherers.
“What about him?” Ilanna asked.
“Demons have a keen sense of smell.” The Hunter tapped his nose. “Far keener than mine. If we do not catch the demon inside and take him down, we run the risk of losing him forever. He will smell our presence long before he steps foot inside the warehouse. He only needs to change his face and disappear forever.”
Ilanna ground her teeth. “That is your mission, Hunter, but mine is to protect my people and my city.”
“But if you do not stop the demon,” the Hunter pressed, “he will continue the killing. Perhaps he will find another way to kill, one that does not raise your suspicion, or he will simply find more to join his Gatherers. He is the head of the serpent.”
Errik and his Serpents tensed beside her, but the Hunter seemed not to notice.
“If you truly want to put an end to these murders,” he said, “we must bring the demon down once and for all. The only way to do that is with my help, for I am the only one with the skills and weapons necessary to deal with him.”
“A sword to the heart ought to work well enough for any creature,” Errik insisted.
“Let me show you how well your blades will work on him.” The Hunter held out a hand. “Sword or dagger, it matters not.”
Errik made no move to draw his weapons, his eyes locked on the Hunter and his expression screaming suspicion.
Ilanna drew one of her throwing daggers and held it out to the Hunter. Ria tensed as the Hunter reached for the blade, but he made no move to attack her. Instead, he rolled up his sleeve.
“Watch.”
With a quick slash, he opened his forearm from wrist to elbow. Blood gushed from the wound and spattered the rooftop at her feet. Kodyn recoiled, and Ria and Aisha both tensed. Ilanna alone made no move. Her eyes were fixed on the Hunter’s arm.
“Such a wound would kill even the strongest man in minutes.” The Hunter’s lips twitched into a small smile. “But if the wounded is not a man…”
His eyes glazed over for a moment, as if his attention had wandered, and his features tensed. Ilanna’s jaw dropped as the bleeding slowed to a trickle then stopped altogether. Slowly, as if by a magical thread, the Hunter’s flesh re-knit until the tanned skin of his forearm was whole.
She reached for his arm and, gripping his wrist, ran a finger along the now-smooth flesh. The fatal wound had disappeared without a trace.
“Your weapons will hurt the demon, even slow him down,” the Hunter said. “But Soulhunger is the only blade that will truly kill him.”
Soulhunger. The name sent an involuntary shudder down Ilanna’s spine, and she found her eyes drawn to his dagger. The Hunter’s legends spoke of his victims’ souls being devoured, but she’d always dismissed them as rumors. Now, she couldn’t be so certain. After what she’d seen…
She made up her mind. “So be it. We wait until the demon shows up.” A doubt nagged at her mind. “But if, as you say, he looks like any other human, how will you know when he arrives?”
The Hunter gave her a small smile and again tapped his nose. “I will smell him.” Disdain twisted his expression. “There is no fouler reek than that of a demon.”
“Very well.” Ilanna nodded and turned to the Serpents. “Err
ik, you and the others go with the Hunter and set up at street level. Cover every exit, and when the rest of the Serpents and Bloodbears arrive, coordinate their positions.”
Errik and the two Serpents nodded and slipped away to obey her orders. The Hunter arched an eyebrow, but made no complaint. “Good luck, Guild Master.”
“Watcher strengthen your arm, Hunter.”
A curious smile played on the Hunter’s lips at the mention of the god of justice. Yet he said nothing, simply bowed and turned away to follow the Serpents.
Ilanna turned to Ria, Aisha, and Kodyn. “The minute the Hunter and Errik’s crew hit them down below, we’re going to hit them from above. If they’ve got Sid and this Briana girl and others, we can’t risk the Gatherers killing the prisoners. We’re going in through the skylight to catch them off-guard. The more we take down, the easier it’ll be for the others.”
The three nodded. Kodyn, in particular, appeared relieved. Something about the way he spoke of the captive girl, Briana, gave Ilanna pause. Ria seemed to have noticed as well, but she said nothing to Aisha. It was not her place, nor Ilanna’s, to interfere with whatever Kodyn and Aisha shared.
Ilanna checked her weapons—long sword in its hidden sheath, belt knife, two throwing daggers, one push blade, and the curved finger knife she’d used since her first days in the Night Guild. And Ethen’s sling, wrapped like a bracelet around her right wrist. The others did likewise.
Satisfied, Ilanna nodded. “Let’s go.”
She crossed the plank bridge to the warehouse roof first, her steps light, treading with caution to avoid placing her foot on a loose tile. Thankfully, most of the warehouses along Repository Way had been built in the same style, and Ilanna knew how to keep to the roof beams and supports as she made her way toward the trapdoor set into the upper floor.
She crouched before the trapdoor and reached for her lockpicks, but Kodyn already had his out. “It’s been a long time since you did this, Mom,” he whispered.
Ilanna arched an eyebrow. Her competitive nature made her want to put him in his place, but now wasn’t the time. She made way for him to crouch beside the trapdoor and set to work on the rusted iron padlock.
Two seconds later—far faster than she’d have managed, even during her days as the best of House Hawk—the padlock opened with a loud snap. Ilanna’s gut clenched as the curved shank of the padlock broke off and clattered on the rooftop. She held her breath, dread twisting her stomach in knots, praying no one had heard them.
“There’s someone on the roof!” came the cry from within a moment later.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Hunter had just chosen his vantage point—the second-floor window of a crumbling wooden building that faced the warehouse’s main door—when a faint shout reached his keen ears. A moment later, Aisha, the young Ghandian woman, appeared at the edge of the rooftop.
“Go, now!” she shouted. “We are discovered!” She turned and raced off, disappearing from the Hunter’s view in seconds.
Keeper’s teeth! The Hunter cursed as he spotted the dark-cloaked figures of Errik and his assassins—did Master Gold really call them Serpents?—breaking from their cover and racing toward the warehouse door.
The Hunter hesitated a single instant. If they took down the Gatherers, it could alert the demon and send him into hiding. It could take the Hunter weeks or even months to track him down again. But if they charged in and the demon was inside, they’d end up dead. The idea held far less appeal than it had the previous day.
With a growl, he leapt out of the window and dropped to the street one floor below. He threw himself into a forward roll as he landed, came to his feet, and set off after the two assassins charging toward the brick-and-wood building. He passed them up in three quick strides, then lowered his shoulder and barreled into the warehouse door.
Wood splinters flew, iron hinges screamed, and the door flew from its frame as if torn off by a giant hand. The flying door crashed into the bald head of one robed figure and took the man down hard. He didn’t get back up.
The Hunter grinned as he reached for his sword and Soulhunger. Shock and awe had always been his favorite tactic; a disoriented enemy proved far less effective in their efforts to kill him.
He took in his surroundings in a heartbeat: wooden crates bearing the mark of Soaper’s Company stood in neat stacks all around the warehouse, and the stink of lye rose from the dusty white powder covering the floor. The two lanterns in the heart of the room barely pushed back the deep shadows of the vast expanse of the high-ceilinged building, but their light sufficed to cast a faint glow on the symbols scrawled onto the walls in blood.
A table stood in the center of the open warehouse floor, and the Hunter’s gut tightened as he caught sight of a slim, childish figure strapped atop it. The captive’s head sat in some strange horseshoe-shaped metal dish with sides that rose in an upward curve.
Ten men stood around the room, frozen in various stages of stunned surprise. The Hunter’s eyes flicked toward the southern end of the building, toward the staircase that led up toward the three upper floors. He caught a flash of movement as the young man, Kodyn, and the young woman Aisha charged from one of the fourth-floor rooms and raced along the balcony to the southeastern rooms. He was going for the girl, Briana.
Ilanna and the other woman, Ria, engaged the first of the guards. One man flew through the air, launched by a strong kick from Ria, and crashed to the hard-packed earth floor with a sickening crunch. Ilanna’s sword knocked aside her opponent’s slim blade, and her throwing dagger took the Gatherer in the throat.
The Hunter smiled. Not bad. They could handle themselves; he had more important matters to deal with.
Even as the first Gatherer charged, the Hunter drew in a breath through his nostrils. The stink of demon clung to the man’s unique scent—the overpowering stink of lye, rotting gums, and turmeric—but it didn’t come from the man himself. He was as human as the victim strapped to his table. The Hunter brought his blade forward for a lightning fast thrust the Gatherer never saw. The man died without a sound, the tip of the Hunter’s long sword buried in his throat.
Another Gatherer charged, a maniacal light in his eyes. He wielded a long sickle-shaped sword, known as a khopesh, favored among the Indomitables, Shalandra’s military troops. The Hunter batted aside the wild strike with his sword so hard it knocked the man off balance. As the Gatherer flailed his arms, the Hunter drove Soulhunger into the man’s side. Blood stained his brown robes—the same dull brown as the thread he’d found clutched in the Bluejacket’s hand, the Hunter realized—and the man’s high-pitched scream of terror echoed loud in the Hunter’s ears. Bright crimson light leaked from Soulhunger’s gemstone, pushing back the dim shadows within the room.
Once, the Hunter had believed the dagger consumed his victims’ souls. In Enarium, he’d learned the truth: it consumed the energy that kept them alive and relayed it to Kharna. Soulhunger’s presence in his mind, interpreted as a voice demanding blood and death, had actually been a subconscious command implanted by an ancient Serenii. The Hunter killed to keep Kharna alive. So long as Kharna lived, the Devourer of Worlds could not break through to destroy Einan.
With a roar, the Hunter tore Soulhunger free of the dying man’s side and raced toward the next Gatherer. The man wielded a crude Praamian-style short sword, pitted by rust and dented from use. The Hunter’s long sword, made with the best Voramian steel, shattered the blade and plowed devastation through the Gatherer’s arm and shoulder in the same blow. Even as the Hunter drove Soulhunger into the man’s chest, his eyes sought out his next target.
His gut clenched as he caught sight of the assassin, Errik, locking blades with another hooded cultist. The Hunter could see Errik would slip past his opponent’s guard with his next blow. But that instant would keep him locked in combat and focused on the enemy ahead, while another Gatherer charged from behind.
Time slowed as the brown-robed cultist raised a Praamian short sword to s
trike. The Hunter could actually visualize the trajectory of the blow. The crude, hacking chop would sever the assassin’s spine and likely end his life.
Instinct took over and the Hunter’s right arm whipped up and forward, his fingers releasing their grip on his sword at the height of the arc. The long blade spun end over end as it crossed the distance in a second and buried to the hilt in the man’s back. The force of the blow knocked the dying Gatherer off his collision course with Errik. He crashed into a wooden chair and collapsed in a pile of splinters and woolen cushion fibers.
Errik whipped around, bloodstained sword raised to block. His eyes went wide as he saw the dead man with the Hunter’s sword embedded in his back. His gaze darted to the Hunter, and he gave a tiny nod.
The Hunter returned the nod, then ripped Soulhunger from the Gatherer’s body and raced deeper into the warehouse. He slipped through the stacks of crates, his feet flying across the powder-covered floor. He had to stop the Gatherers from killing their latest victim.
The man that had been standing over the boy strapped to the table reached for a sword—either to finish off the boy or repel the intruders, the Hunter couldn’t be certain. He leapt into the air, arms outstretched, and tackled the man to the ground. He rolled as he fell, gaining the upper hand and winding up atop the stunned Gatherer. With a growl, he plunged Soulhunger into the man’s chest.
Screams echoed loud from the dying man and crimson light streamed from Soulhunger’s gemstone. The Hunter didn’t wait until the cries of agony fell silent. His right hand seized the Gatherer’s sword and tore it free of his weakening grasp. The sickle-shaped blade had a strange, unfamiliar weight and balance, but he’d make do.
A part of him ached to kill every damned one of the Gatherers—they deserved no less for what they’d done—but he knew he had to keep at least one of them alive long enough to talk. He needed to know where to find the demon.
“Protect the Necroset!” came the cry from the far end of the soapmaker’s factory. “Protect Kytos!”
Darkblade Guardian Page 140