by Drae Box
“We’re tourists. We were determined to see some of your university – it’s pretty amazing that you have your own farm animals,” lied Raneth, giving the trainer a large smile. “Does everyone help out with the cows and stuff?”
“We’re not a tourist attraction,” stated the drill instructor firmly. “We’re a place of learning for law enforcement. Now, if you two know what’s good for you, you’ll back off. Otherwise I’ll climb over this fence and stab you both in the eyeballs for your bad manners.”
“Bad manners?” murmured Aldora.
“Of course,” uttered Raneth, still smiling firmly at the Newer. “We didn’t mean to disturb you. We’ll leave you to it, sir.” Raneth pulled Aldora in a fast walk away from the fence, Pedibastet trailing along behind them. “Well, that was eye opening,” whispered Raneth.
“Indeed. They are too aware of people scouting them out,” stated Pedibastet.
They rounded a corner, passing one side of a large blacksmith’s and curving around it. Raneth halted their advance and crept back a little without Aldora, retracing their steps to a point where he could peer around the edge of the building.
Aldora looked around where she stood. She noticed that the wall of the building they were taking shelter behind was peppered with papers. Curious, she tiptoed towards Raneth’s back, knocking a small pebble with her foot and catching Raneth’s attention.
“Just checking they weren’t making sure we’d left,” he stated. “Perfect opportunity for them to beat us up if they wanted to.”
“Oh,” said Aldora, before giving Raneth a smile. “I take it we’re safe then?”
Raneth nodded. “Nobody’s coming this way. We’re good.”
She took his hand again and pulled him back to the papers on the blacksmith’s wall. “What’s all this?” she asked.
Raneth eyed the papers and the large black handprint painted on the wall of the blacksmith’s above them; it was higher than either of them would have been able to reach, even Raneth, who was over six foot. It had been carefully painted, and though some parts looked a little faded, others looked fresher, as if it had been topped up by the painter. Below it were the pieces of paper that had caught Aldora’s eye, pressed into the creases of the stones by the heavy rain. A few had had their ink smeared, but most had survived against the weather. As Aldora touched one, the paper crumbled under her touch, making a small section of the corner fall away and twirl onto the floor.
“It’s a Wall of Souls,” he said softly, inspecting the closest faces on the pieces of paper.
“What’s it for? Missing people?” asked Aldora, noticing that some of the faces had dates marked under them. She looked at another cluster of faces, two of which had black handprints over them, leaving only small snatches of a woman’s face and a man’s face visible.
Raneth hesitated. “These are the people the city’s inhabitants suspect have been taken by that cannibal cult I was telling you about.”
“I thought you said they just buy parts from the body snatchers?”
“They also hunt at night. They compete to find the most able man who can hold his own, and the most pleasing woman. They take their victims alive to one that waits somewhere in the city and she makes the decision about which two to keep for their ritual sacrifice and eating. It’s thought she’s their leader.”
“What happens to the others?”
“Sometimes they make it home and other times the body snatchers grab them. The two groups tend to be a bit parasitical towards each other – the body snatchers use the cannibals’ hunts to find people who are already shaken up from being considered for sacrifice, and then they kill them and use the organs.”
“That’s a nasty circle of violence,” stated Aldora. “These poor people.”
Raneth nodded his agreement.
What would I do if something like this came to my village? wondered Aldora. I can’t imagine it would get so far out of control that we would have to use posters like this. Are the cannibals here because of the incompetence of the local inspectors, or are they just good at avoiding being caught?
“If this ever happened at home, I’d use a contract assignment with Cray to get you to help me sort it out,” decided Aldora. “I wouldn’t just want any royal official of MRT rank.”
“I’d be right at your side, no matter who I upset,” promised Raneth with a grim smile. “I don’t like this darker part of Newer’s capital, not that there are many light parts of Chaol.”
Aldora stooped and picked up Prince Pedibastet, eagerly taking comfort from hugging the cat.
“Now you remember me,” grumbled the Prince of the Cats, resting his cheek against Aldora’s. “About time.”
“Complain and I won’t pick you up again, Pedi.”
Raneth watched Aldora and Pedibastet in silence, before glancing briefly at the black handprints on the posters.
“The inspectors here and the cannibals – the Cannis – took two months to come up with the idea of the Walls of Souls and to get the people who live here to agree. Wherever the cannibals paint that hand, it becomes one of these walls. The posters with the handprints on them are confirmed to be victims of the cannibals. You’d know if this started happening, I promise. There would be some sort of sign beyond people going missing.”
Hang on a second. “Raneth, you’d be perfect prey for them.”
Raneth cast his gaze at the larger handprint above the faces then eyed Pedibastet. “I guess so,” said Raneth. “I won’t go anywhere without first telling you.”
“No. You won’t go anywhere without us,” said Aldora firmly. “There’s no point you taking risks without me and Pedi. Pedi can hear better than we can, and I have the Dagger. Why risk going out on your own?”
Raneth frowned as he mulled something over. “You’re right. I’m just used to taking all the risks without sharing them.”
Aldora gave him a gentle smile. “Remember I’m not a delicate flower. You and Master Redler have been training me for four years now.”
Raneth nodded. “I know.”
“But I think you’re still thinking of me like that. The clueless villager.”
“I am a royal official,” explained Raneth. “There’s certain things I’ll always look at in specific ways, like protecting those I love.”
Aldora smiled, a red blush blossoming up her neck to her ears. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said the L-word,” she stated. “I love you too.”
“Enough of the soppiness,” ordered Pedibastet, pouring himself from Aldora’s arms in disgust. “What’s the plan, royal official? Other than to mate with Aldora again, I have no doubt.”
“I…” Raneth rubbed at the underside of his jaw before clearing his throat and tugging at his collar. “We’ll go back to the university tonight. We need to see if Lodema’s holed up there, and if it looks like the inspectors in charge know anything. It might be easier to get in if I form.”
“Good. Now we have a plan, let’s get on with it,” stated Pedibastet.
The three friends started walking again, past a stone structure similar to the arena in Oreg. A communal cheer erupted beyond its walls, causing Aldora to take Raneth’s nearest hand.
“Relax,” he said softly. “You’re not getting put in one of those again. Let’s go and find somewhere to have lunch.”
Stonefist’s park was one of a few locations Raneth knew that would accommodate his griffin-self’s wings when taking flight, so the trio travelled there once it was dark. Aldora’s partner rolled his shoulders as they picked a good spot – not too dark, but not so bright as to attract attention.
“Damn wings,” muttered the royal official, before nodding at a grass clearing close to where they had met Stonefist before. “How about there, A?”
It looks big enough, though a little close to some of the people here. “I guess it will do,” said Aldora. I hope Stonefist and his friends won’t blab about Raneth using his blood-gift. She observed the three criminals standing in the nearest spot of light; only
Stonefist looked to be watching them. That’s something, I suppose. Raneth probably trusts him more than those two women.
Raneth’s frown was illuminated enough that Aldora could see it. “You don’t sound too sure.”
“There are a lot of dodgy people here,” stated Pedibastet. “Are you sure there’s not a better place to do this?”
“Not for my wing size,” admitted Raneth. “Unless you want to go to one of the larger parks. They’re bigger but they don’t have any lights.”
“We’re safer here,” agreed Aldora reluctantly, kneeling to gently stroke Pedibastet’s cheek.
With Pedibastet quietened, Raneth rolled his shoulders again and focused on forming. Feathers erupted from his pores and his bones twisted, shifted and changed shape. The wings erupted from his back and hips and hung off him, too large to be supported by his natural-self. He does seem to be forming faster than when we first met, noted Aldora gratefully, watching as he rushed through the rest of the transformation.
Now a full-grown griffin, Raneth turned to peer at Aldora, his tail poised in the air behind him and his wings tucked either side of his torso. He gave a purr and then lay down on his belly, looking expectantly over his shoulder.
Time to get a move on. Aldora nodded to show she had understood and eased closer to carefully climb onto the back of his shoulders. She wiggled down a bit, careful of his wings, and they waited for Pedibastet to jump on. The cat leapt up and snuggled into Aldora’s lap, clinging on with his claws in readiness.
Raneth turned to face towards the inspectors’ university and unfurled his wings. He ran, beating his wings until his paws left the ground. He strove to climb higher before he reached the edge of the park, but he wasn’t going to fit between the gap of the two buildings ahead. He banked sharply, sweeping left to the back of one of the buildings, then slipped between it and another.
They soared over the university’s fence, aiming for a particular roof that was a little flatter than the others and had a short tower nestled next to it. Aldora watched it speeding closer to them; two more beats of Raneth’s white wings and they would be right on top of it. I hope he times this right so we don’t give ourselves away.
As Aldora clung on, Raneth untucked his paws and held them ready to press against the roof slats. Aldora hugged his neck tighter as he swooped down sharply, his paws softly touching the roof. Aldora stayed still, her heartbeat singing in her chest as she looked at the roof either side of Raneth’s griffin-self, checking that the slates weren’t going to cave in under his weight. One slate slid off the roof from next to Raneth’s right front paw, but the rest remained still and silent. The griffin looked at Aldora over his shoulder as the tile clattered on the ground below. For a moment, Aldora didn’t dare to climb down, expecting to hear inspectors yelling to one another, their presence discovered.
Pedibastet jumped down. “Get a move on, Aldora.”
Aldora carefully removed herself from Raneth’s back, making sure not to hurt Raneth’s wings with her feet.
“OK, Raneth,” said Aldora, pulling at her trousers which had bunched up at the knees a little whilst flying. “Reform before we’re seen.”
Raneth nodded his griffin-head and did as asked. Once he was his natural-self again, he smiled at her. “Come on,” he said. “The tower gives us a perfect entry point.”
He stalked towards the tower, which had a large open window facing the roof; the window was large enough that a five-year-old could happily walk through it with his arms outstretched. Raneth squatted next to it, peering inside at the dark staircase beyond as he drew one of the throwing daggers at his belt.
“Is that wise?” asked Aldora as she knelt next to him, nodding at the blade. “If an inspector sees that, they might attack us straight away. If we don’t have weapons out, they might not.”
“Good point.” He nodded and slipped the blade back. “If they catch us, they mustn’t find out I’m a royal official. They’ll use me in a lesson.”
“I promise,” said Aldora, resting a hand on Raneth’s right knee. I won’t let them catch him. The way he said it, they’d probably slowly kill him.
Raneth smiled at her then slipped down onto the landing. Eager to watch over him, Aldora eased in behind her partner. Metal stairs jutted out from the wall, and a railing followed the stairs around the four walls of the tower. The royal official prowled over to it and inspected the steps opposite, then leaned forwards to peer at the steps below. Raneth turned and headed for the upper stairs, slipping his hand into Aldora’s. At the top of the stairs, a small ladder jutted from a gaping circular hole above their heads. Raneth eyed it cautiously.
“Hold on,” he whispered to Aldora, before gently resting two fingers against the side of the ladder.
Why? Aldora stood behind him worriedly, sweeping her gaze around them to check she hadn’t missed anything that might put Raneth on alert, but there was nothing. Nobody stared back at the three Giftens. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but spotted white mist slipping free from his hand and curling up the ladder into the space above, filling the room.
“Oh, great,” muttered Pedibastet near their feet.
Raneth ignored him and closed his eyes.
“Raneth?” Aldora looked up towards the hole. What’s he doing? Not wanting to disturb him, she looked to Pedibastet for her answer.
“Keep him safe,” warned the cat. “He’s using his gift to ‘feel’ the room.”
Feel? What on Giften soil does that mean? How does that even work? The Dagger Bearer kept note of their surroundings, which were quiet, but her heart seized when she spotted blood sliding from Raneth’s nose. That can’t be good. Especially not with a gift.
“Raneth, stop. Your nose.” Aldora grasped his arm and shook it a little, causing the white mist to dissipate.
He touched under his nose and inspected his hand. “I could have continued,” he stated softly. “I just haven’t looked using my mist for a while, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t,” said Aldora. “Master Redler taught me that the more dangerous abilities of a gift shouldn’t be used if they might affect your health, Raneth.”
Raneth frowned. “That rings a bell.” He nodded then pointed at the ladder. “I didn’t get a full look,” he warned her, before grasping the ladder and climbing up it.
Aldora folded her arms and waited for enough space on the ladder to follow him. Can’t believe he risked his health to snoop before climbing up. What’s wrong with just poking your head up there? She scaled the ladder and poked her upper body through. Raneth was standing by a table which had been turned onto its side to face the ladder; he was observing the room carefully. Aldora rested her arms against the floorboards either side of the ladder and pushed herself up into the attic with a loud huff.
Raneth faced her. “Need help?”
“Nope.” Aldora stood up and looked around. The space was tall, with several beams running along above their heads. The chair to go with the upturned table was further back in the room, facing the ladder but pushed into a corner next to another table with some knick-knacks on it, including a book. The floor was peppered with mats, likely used to keep the floorboards from being as noisy as they might be. In another corner there was a mess of material. A bed, she reasoned. Two small alcove windows scattered a shaft of what little light came in from outside onto a bloodied chair in the centre of the room. Severed rope rested under the chair, in line with the arms. Aldora walked around the small square space, noticing the items that were scattered across the tables that lined the walls, before toeing the bedding in the corner.
“We’re definitely on our own,” said Raneth. He stooped and pulled away some of the bedding, finding a small square image. He gingerly picked it up. “A photograph,” he said.
Aldora snuggled against Raneth’s side. Together they inspected the glossy image of a small boy smiling up at them, a wooden hobby horse in his hands.
“At some point Cray is going to start issuing cameras to all
the law enforcers,” added Raneth.
“It’s so much clearer than a painting or drawing. The colours are amazing,” uttered Aldora. “When Cray gives you yours, I want a picture of you to put on my wall.”
“You already have that awful drawing of me from the Giften Daily when you saved your village.”
“This would be so much better though, Raneth. Perfect even,” replied Aldora, noticing that the pitter-patter of rain against the window was whispering its lullaby.
“If that’s what you want,” promised Raneth reluctantly. “Do I get to have one of you and your family? I’d have larger copies made for you all.”
Aldora nodded. “Of course. Who do you think this is?”
“Someone’s kid. If Lodema was here, maybe he’s hers,” said Raneth. “She must have had to leave in a hurry to forget this.”
He glanced around then prowled over to one of the tables. He picked up an item from the table and held it at eye level. To Aldora, it appeared at first glance to be a horse’s bridle, but when she drew nearer she could see the design was for something with a rounded or square head. For humans? She observed as Raneth gently lowered it back onto the table’s surface and gingerly turned over the leather straps. Blood and… a spike? What’s a spike doing on that? Raneth held it up again, positioning the straps to inspect the metal spike.
“Hey, Aldora, what do you think this is?” he asked.
“I can tell you what it isn’t. It’s not for a horse. What is that?”
“It looks like an old torture device, but I could be wrong — I’ve never seen one like this before . They’re supposed to be hard to get hold of, and they’re illegal,” said Raneth. “If it’s what I think it is, then that spike is pressed into the underside of the jaw the more you tighten those two buckles there.” Raneth lowered the leather contraption onto the table so he could point out the two buckles. “Wouldn’t kill, but the amount of blood that would run down the neck would probably terrify someone into thinking it was serious. I think bleeds are hard to stop there, too. She must have used it on whoever was in that chair.” He ran a finger along the table’s surface. “Stonefist’s intel is out of date. It’s been a while since she was here, assuming it was her. Blood’s dry and there’s a thin layer of dust.”