by JM Guillen
Typical.
The sound was so sudden, so out of place, that both I and my foe glanced at the bird, somewhat surprised.
In that moment, Rebeka acted.
She gave the man one swift elbow hit to the chest and then brought her fist downward into his groin before pushing him back and quickly stepping over to where I stood. He cried out, stumbling backward into the shadows.
I leapt after him, swinging my stave. I struck him square in the side of the knee, a shot I thought might dislocate it. He grunted in pain.
Then, he was on me.
I never would have expected the man to be a brawler, but he stepped forward, punching me once in the throat and then grappling with me. I choked with agony from the strike, weakly trying to push back as he bore me to the ground.
His knife was still in his hand.
“Foolish Judicar.” His voice was hoarse, yet still contained dark, wild laughter. He plunged downward with the knife, and I caught his hand. We struggled for a moment, and I scrambled with my other hand, trying to find the stave I had dropped.
That’s when my hand closed on the metallic, angular object.
“Inevitability, Thom.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “You fight against great workings, gears that move all around you.”
“If you’re going to kill me…” I struggled to speak, fighting as he placed all his weight against the blade. “I’d at least like to see your face.”
Then, with every ounce of strength I had left, I slammed Ely’s contraption against one of the glass eyes on his mask. The lens shattered at once, and the man cried out with surprise.
At which point I pressed the bright red triangle on the device, holding the aperture against the hole in his mask. When the red pepper flooded the mask, the man screamed.
Rebeka wasn’t some dainty maiden. Even before I was done filling the man’s mask with red pepper, she was rushing forward to levy a kick at him. My action caused him to thrash sideways as he screamed in pain, but she still got a fierce kick in, albeit with bare and dainty feet.
Maybe I didn’t need a legendary assassin after all.
I scrambled up, kicking the knife that he had dropped off into the darkness. The man was frantically pulling at his mask, and I stepped forward, reaching for the top of it and jerking it from his head.
“Now, cully.” I was panting, and my heart was like a stampeding horse. “Let’s just see—”
The man looked up at me. I stood dumb, struck square by horror.
He was a disfigured monster.
Half of his face had been melted away, and it was still glistening with visceral wetness in the flickering light of the brazier. It looked as if his mutilation had been recent, as if the wound still ran and oozed over skin burnt black.
“Impossible.” I stood, dumbstruck. The accident at Doc Thane’s shop had happened long days ago. This couldn’t have been from that.
Still, Wil’s words rang in my head:
“How many died?” I knew at least one had, but I wanted Wil’s take.
“Well, Thane did, of course. The man’s corpse was horrific. All black and sticky. I could see bits of skeleton.”
Black, sticky, and skeletal? Yes.
Dead? Not quite.
The Doc looked up at me, his face rent in twain. The left side was untouched, although his eye was bright red from the pepper and ran watery.
The right side was a burnt and boney ruin. How was he not dead?
I stood there for a moment, waiting to see if he was finished. Finally, he spoke again. His voice was like gravel and darkness.
“You look upon me with horror.” He chuckled. “You think eyes are what sees?” His breathing was wet and rasping. “The heart sees, Judicar. The heart sees filth. The heart sees corrup—” He cried out as he tried to push himself up, but his leg, which I had apparently injured, wouldn’t hold him.
“I can get you help, Doc.” I kept my tone reasonable. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I can get a dociere to tend to you. You just need to tell me what happened here.”
He smiled at me. It was a wide, drooling leer. It was a mad thing, the smile of every man who has murder in his heart. It was the smile of the damned.
There was a long silence. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper, “I can’t tell you what happened here, Judicar. No one can.”
His smile was wide. Doc Thane began to laugh.
Then, using his good leg, Doc Thane lunged at me, taking me completely by surprise. He bore me to the ground, his hands around my neck like a steel vise. We fell backward, and I began to choke.
Then, Scoundrel was on him.
Yes, she was injured, and yes, she was weak. But it was still well within her range to hop over to us and hurl herself against the Doc’s mangled face, just the once. My good girl, with more heart than her little body should have held, threw herself at him, even as he choked the life from me.
Her blades flashed silver as she sliced through his left eye. It was the only strike she could make, hobbled though she was, but my girl struck true.
The man screamed, blinded. Warm blood sprayed over me. Then, horrifyingly, his scream drifted cantways, cascading into mad, rambling laughter.
“Useless, Judicar! You can’t—”
I reached for my stave, thinking to beat him over the head with it. When my hand closed around the hilt of his knife, it felt warm, almost alive in my grip.
No choice. Without hesitation, I plunged it into his chest as Doc Thane screamed.
Instantly, the world went dark around me, for the tiniest nonce.
I could hear whispering, strange, broken things. Whispers that were familiar, spectral. I seemed to be somewhere distant, dreamlike. There were stone cobbles beneath my feet.
“Scoundrel?” My voice sounded hollow.
Everything was blackness, filled with cold. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and it was the only warmth in all the world. My blood burned with the heat, a white, shimmering light that shone alone in the darkness.
Then, sound.
“Thom?” My girl’s voice seemed to slice through the darkness, and I suddenly wasn’t alone. I was standing over Thane, coughing from the remnants of the smoke.
The smoke. Was it giving me hallucinations?
Rebeka was kneeling over him. She looked satisfied, her mouth a grim line.
“Dead.” She looked up at me.
I nudged him with one boot, expecting to hear him groan or move—anything, really—but he was gone. When I bent over him, he was not breathing. I placed my fingers on his neck.
His heart was still. I cast about for the dagger but did not see it. Thane must have pulled it free as he died, I thought. Maybe he had thrown it?
Tainted night, I hadn’t wanted to kill him in all honesty. He hadn’t been right. His mind had been bent somehow. It was like killing someone who should have been in the ‘sylums.
“He’s gone.” Rebeka’s voice was haunted. “We have to go too.”
3
Doc Thane wasn’t the only one who was gone. When we made our way back to the first floor, the room with the waif in it had its door swinging lazily on its hinges. The room was empty, save the girl’s filth and debris.
Still I couldn’t imagine how anyone might have convinced her to leave. Perhaps she did it herself, I reasoned. I had opened the door, after all. Perhaps after I had left, she had seen fit to slip away into the Remnants.
For some reason, I doubted that. Perhaps the Spider had been up to more than I had known.
“The drops go in the eyes.” Rebeka’s voice was oddly detached. “They burn; that’s how he could see.”
I looked to her. “Thane won’t be seeing anything anymore.” The smoke was starting to come up the stairs, tendrils of it reaching for us, as if it could drag us back into the dark room. I wanted to drag the Doc out, but it wouldn’t do any good. Still, it seemed like blasphemy to leave his body there in that shadowed place. Something about the house seemed to hang
over our heads, to gloat. It was as if it could swallow us, whenever it pleased, but simply enjoyed watching as if we were playthings.
“Thom.” Scoundrel nuzzled at my neck. She sounded so… tired. We both were. The corpse would have to wait. I would send judicars and docieren later, I just needed to get Rebeka out now.
“We’re almost out.” I gave Rebeka an encouraging smile and led her from the dismal hallway. Once in the front room, things brightened. Late afternoon sunlight shone through cracks in the boarded over windows, and the air didn’t seem as oppressive, as heavy. Feeling as if I could breathe for the first time in hours, I walked to the front door and stopped.
Ware the Unreal man.
It was scratched into the back of the door. Had that been there before? Surely I would have noticed while I was tinkering with the door and its new lock. But still, it seemed like an odd message. Had the Warren’s Spider taken the time to scrawl this upon the door, even as she fled the building?
The thought that she had left me was unsettling as well. She didn’t seem like the type to leave loose ends. In fact, the more I considered it, the more unnerved I became. The Spider had excellent reasons to see to my well-being. It was hard for me to imagine the circumstances that would keep her away.
“Tell the judicar he walks between. Unreal also means unseen.” Rebeka’s voice sent strange shivers up my spine. It sounded like a cantos, one of the street rhymes, but it wasn’t one I had ever heard.
“What?” I turned to her in surprise.
Her flat eyes were unreadable, and she seemed leagues away.
“Thom.” Scoundrel shifted nervously on my shoulder. She was clearly anxious.
“Yes, pretty girl.” I didn’t take my eyes from Rebeka. “Let’s leave this place far behind.”
The Masque and Moon
Sundering, Fifth Bell, Eventide
It was night.
Almost a full bell later found me sitting at the Masque and Moon, wrapping Scoundrel’s wing with some of Celia’s darker linens. It had seemed to take forever for us to hobble far enough out of the Remnants to flag down a cab, but once we had, our destination was obvious.
I had made a promise to Wil, after all.
Celia had scolded me, even as she cut the linen for me.
“Why you let this happen, Thom? Why you no take care of the only girl who will put up with that mouth of yours?”
“It wasn’t on was purpose, madri.” I scratched my girl’s head. “She was taking care of me.”
“Better than you take care of her, I think.”
“Bad Thom.” Scoundrel squawked, taking Celia’s tone and looking up at her mournfully.
Seriously?
Rebeka was ravenous, devouring a plate of potatoes and crab cake without saying a word. The moment we had walked in, Celia had sent one of her girls upstairs for a maid skirt. That way, Rebeka was decently clothed, but she didn’t seem to care either way. She had little to say. She simply downed glasses of sweet cider and watched while I tended to Scoundrel.
I tied Scoundrel’s wing close to her body, cooing and making soothing noises. I didn’t think it was broken, but it was always best to be certain. I knew that Rookmaster Aeriin would want to see her soon.
But not yet. I still needed her.
“Looks like you saved the girl after all.” Wil was standing at the door with Svester on his shoulder.
“Girl. Girl.” Svester croaked deeply.
“I’m not quite the hero.” I gave him a look, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. “And, after a fashion, I didn’t save the girl.” I gave Wil a meaningful nod, and then glanced at Rebeka. Her gaze was vacant, lost out the window.
“I see.” Wil made a fist and pointed at the lamp-post outside. “Svester, go. Wait.”
The bird flapped his wings.
“Go. Go wait.” He hopped to the ground and then flapped again until he was up on the lamp-post. A young boy walking by with his mother pointed at the bird, but she pulled him away.
Wil stepped inside and sat across from Rebeka. I was still binding Scoundrel’s wing, but my attention was really on my friend.
“As a matter of discussion, I’m looking into your other strand.” Wil gave me a tight-lipped smile. “There may be something to the issue of missing young women, just so you know.”
“Well,” I sighed, glancing to my side. “I don’t know if it involves this one. I hope it’s a separate matter.”
Wil turned toward Rebeka, and his eyes softened. He glanced at me before he spoke, his tone soft.
“Rebeka? My name is Wil.” He had an easy way about him, a friendly smile that one could not help liking.
“Yes?” She didn’t even look at him. “Rebeka is quiet. Rebeka is frightened.” Her eyes were wet.
“What is Rebeka frightened of?” Wil frowned.
“Rebeka doesn’t want to be taken again.” Her voice was a whisper.
“No.” My voice was firm. “You won’t.” I looked at Wil. “I need to send a message to the Offices. Think Svester can carry for me? Scoundrel would be a bit slow.”
Wil smiled at me. “Finally, you realize my bird’s superior value.”
I rolled my eyes at him but said nothing.
He laughed. “Fine. I’ll send my boy. Write something up.”
“He is still out there.” Rebeka’s words seemed hollow, echoing. “They can take me whenever they wish.”
I finished wrapping my girl’s wing. “Thane is dead, Rebeka.”
“Thane?” Wil was confused.
I sighed. “Have a seat and order some potatoes. I’ve got a tale to tell.”
“Tell.” Scoundrel groomed her feathers.
“Quiet, you.” I smiled at her. “Celia will have you out of here, hurt wing or no.”
That wasn’t true. Celia’s heart was like a candle in the night. Still, I was happy just to be able to banter with my wonderful, oh so smart girl.
Sometimes, the smallest things matter. Sometimes, they are the only reason to smile.
2
Half a bell later, and I was beating him.
To be clear, this never happened. We often played draughts as we sussed things out, and he always won.
It helped us think.
“Pretty convenient to have a certain murderous companion disappear before I got a chance to meet her.” Wil eyed me, fighting back a smile.
“It wasn’t convenient in the moment, I’ll tell you that for free.” I shook my head.
“If I were you, Lilah would already be involved.” Wil didn’t look at me as he said it. He knew why I didn’t trust the inquisitors of Altheus.
“No. Absolutely not.”
He changed the subject. “So you still have no idea who it was who attacked you in the alleyway?” He was surveying the board and slowly moved his black piece. He obviously wasn’t happy with the move. “I ask because I would assume that the kidnapper would try to end you as soon as possible, Marcia.” Wil gave me a look. “I don’t believe that crusty, half-dead Thane walked into the Scarlet Cellar and stole the girl; it had to be someone else.”
“I know the attacker had short, black hair.” I reached out for one of my whites. Underneath the table, Rebeka squeezed my leg, almost to the point of pain. I stopped my hand in mid-reach, and chose another piece. When I slid it forward, she patted my leg.
“Right. The Fox has red hair. Thane had short brown hair, most of which burned away.” Wil scowled at my move. “So you are dealing with a guild run by Esperans, and you’re still missing someone with black hair?” He snorted. “That should be simple. That’s only, say, all of them.” He pushed a black from the corner. “You’re missing a would-be assassin, Susan, who is potentially your kidnapper.”
“Yes.” Cautiously I moved a piece. Rebeka patted my leg again. “Whoever arranged this knows Rebeka well. He knew she was affiliated with the Havens, which many people did not.” I paused. “He altered her route, knowing that she would go into an old, seedy wayhouse to keep her ro
unds.”
“That’s why I think your attacker is also the kidnapper. I’d say Thane set up the whole thing because if his debt. No one wants to be in debt to the Red Marquis.”
“There’s that,” I frowned at him. “But there’s more, more we aren’t seeing. You yourself said you’d have Lilah on this.”
“So you think…” He let his voice trail off, giving me an appraising look. Sorcery? His eyes said what his lips did not.
“No.” My words were flat, even. “But there are definitely unsavory things afoot.” I pulled the papers I had found from my satchel, and generally waved them at him. “I’ve got proof of alchemy, quite old proof. When I add in the evidence of some new tonic, something that the Fox, and Gould seem to have been using—”
“The Drops of Dresghar’s Blight.” Rebeka’s tone was quiet, but clear. She looked up at me. “My brother wanted it, I think. It’s not what he thinks. It skulks and hides.”
“That’s what this is over.” It felt right somehow. “I think Thane’s debt involves the production of this tonic, and Santiago wanted control over it.” I looked at Wil.
“I’d say he didn’t get it.” Wil shook his head. “We’re drifting, though. I still say that your attacker had something to do with taking the girl.”
“The only person who knew where I was going to be was Eddie the Filch.”
“He has the wrong hair.” Wil reached for a black then pulled his hand back. He selected another and turned one of mine.
“He loves me.” Rebeka’s eyes were as distant as her tone. “Hurting me would kill his heart.”
“I heard that.” I looked from her to Wil. “That’s the whole bit that doesn’t make sense.” I pushed a white and turned two of his. “I guess I have to assume it was some dirkman of the Twilight Blades, maybe one of the men I saw at Ely’s.”
Wil nodded. “There were a lot of players on the board.” He moved a piece.
“I can piece some of it together. My assumption is that Thane was trying to slink out of his debt to Santiago, maybe got Sebaste and the Blades on board to help keep things quiet. Mix that in with the Doc playing with alchemy that he ought to have left alone…” I shrugged, letting my voice trail off.