by Jesse Teller
“As tempting as you are, sweet Jetula, I must be on my way.” Rayph fought to keep the disgust from his face. He turned and made for the door.
She laughed and smiled. “What do I tell them when they come asking about you?”
“Tell them anything you must. Tell them of their doom. Tell them of mine. I’m sure they will not be alarmed.”
“Farewell, Dimeias. I’m sure we will not see each other again.”
Rayph knew it an empty threat. He pushed his way through the purple curtain and went to find Smear.
Jetula’s Pet
“Wake up, dog!” she said with a kick.
Aaron woke but did not move. He felt her stomp across the room and throw her curtain open. He heard her pour herself a drink from her decanter of whiskey. He heard her light her pipe. She took a long drag, tapping her claw on the floor. He waited, holding a tight rein on his breath and keeping himself still.
“You mongrel, wake up!” She stomped across the floor to the tub beside him, and she slashed at him with her foot. The pain of the swipe was delicate and terrible, but he did not flinch. She drew in closer. “If you died last night, I will be furious.”
She rolled him over with her foot. His eyes popped open, and Aaron grabbed her foot. He tucked it under his armpit and rolled, switched his grip, and leaned back. The tiny bones of her foot snapped like twigs, and he laughed. She screamed out a terrible roar of pain and clawed at the floor to fight her way from him. With a savage ferocity, he bit down on her calf and gnawed. Blood in his mouth spurred him on further. She kicked back at his face and broke his nose, but he kept biting. He came away with a chunk of meat and spit out the furry bite. She sobbed, pulling away as he rolled back and leaned against the tub.
“Told myself you would taste stringy, and I was right.” He spat. He left the blood to drip off his face, and he smiled at her.
She struggled to the far side of the room and turned to stare at him. Jetula was in pain. In her horror, she struggled to stand. Aaron laughed at her.
He reached out and grabbed the smoldering pipe she had dropped, and he sniffed it. He shook his head, grabbed it with both hands, and snapped it in half. He tossed it away.
“You’re making a mistake,” he said.
She grunted out a half-word he could not understand.
“Let me go, and I will leave you alive. I will cripple you for taking me away from my king, but I will let you live.”
She pulled a scarf off her neck and pressed it against her bite to stanch the blood.
“Keep me here, keep up this farce of imprisonment, and I will slaughter you a bit at a time.” He smiled, letting her blood drain down his chin, and licked his lips. “I don’t hate you yet. You still have time. You can make this right, and I will be merciful.” He shook his head. “But keep this up, and you will piss me off.”
She limped to the door and ripped it open. She shouted for men. They came, and she pointed at him. As they beat him, Aaron curled up and wrapped his arms around his head. He covered himself as much as he could. He let them tire out.
When they stood by, gasping and heaving, he grabbed one in close and broke his leg, arm, and hand before they could drag their man away. All of them pulled back in horror, and Aaron the Marked laughed.
The Venture
Rayph entered his room at the Burnished Lock and set his things on his bed. He turned about the room, casting protection spells on every corner. A solid crack against the back of his head shot white light in his vision and dropped him to his knees. He began mumbling a spell, but a filthy rag was stuffed in his mouth before he could cast it. He struggled to get to his feet. An impossibly strong grip locked around the back of his neck and grabbed his belt. He was lifted and tossed against the wall headfirst, and he crumpled. He thought of his fetish an instant before darkness descended upon him and he collapsed, unconscious.
The room pitched side to side. Rayph rolled to the corner and struggled to get to his feet, finding them bound. His hands flexed in their shackles, and he groaned as his head screamed in sudden pain. He looked up to a low vaulted ceiling of deep mahogany. The spare light of the room swayed with the motion of the floor, and Rayph suddenly realized he was on a ship.
He groaned as fear leapt up inside him. He ran through his plan, and his head rioted as if thought alone would kill him. He decided that, of all the enemies he had in this town, only four crews could have pulled off the attack made on him. He grunted as he sat up in a corner, bracing himself against the motion of the sea.
Smear sat bound and unconscious in the corner opposite him. He knew then who had them, and his heart quailed. Only one crew could have gotten them both.
Rayph braced himself for the pirate queen known as Mother, the most wicked bitch to ride the seas in a thousand years.
Rayph looked to Smear, praying his fetish was still clipped to his chest but found it missing. Who would know? What Manhunter could get to them? Drelis was still solidifying power in the city’s coven and searching for the Pristine. She would not expect to hear from him for at least a day. Dreark would get to the gates in the morning, and when Rayph did not show up, Dreark would alert the rest of his group. But they were on the sea. Dreark knew little or nothing about the Venture and her crew. He would have no place to look.
What if Tristan had hired Mother to seize them? What if, while he was bound, Kat fed on him and turned him into a vampire? Rayph realized they may have already lost this fight, and he prepared himself for the worst. He scooted across the floor to Smear’s side of the room and kicked him hard in the gut. Smear woke with a groan and looked around. He looked at Rayph on the floor, rolling with the waves, and he shook his head, laughing.
“Nice,” he said. “How long was I out?” He propped himself in the corner again. Smear shifted his hands, testing the bonds. As he struggled in them, they glowed red, searing his flesh. Smear hissed and stopped struggling. “They have me,” he said. “They took my kit off of me, too. Can’t get us out of here.” Smear looked around and chuckled. “Well, that didn’t take long.”
Rayph nodded, fighting to spit out the gag in his mouth but knowing it was tied well.
“Who is it? Who has us?” Smear asked.
Rayph couldn’t answer.
“Well, Dreark can’t help us for a few more hours. Drelis is out. But Trys is in this town somewhere. I betcha she found us after we got in. She is now our only hope.”
Of course, Trysliana was still out there. She might know of them by now. She would be on her way if she knew. Rayph tried to bolster his hope, but he knew whom Trysliana would be facing, and he cursed behind his gag. He did not want to underestimate her, but she was going against the most vicious, most powerful pirate crew in the whole of the sea. If she was slick, and she brought in help, she might be able to get to them, but fighting their way free would be too much.
There was nothing to do, so Rayph sat in the corner and laid his head back. Now it was a waiting game. He closed his eyes and stole what little sleep he could.
As a hand touched the doorknob to the room, Rayph’s eyes popped open. His eyes locked onto Smear’s before both sets of eyes closed again. Feet marched into the room and stopped before Rayph. A robust laugh filled the chamber. “You want me to live in a fantasy where Rayph Ivoryfist and Smear Kond did not wake up the moment I moved to open that door? I cannot do that, dear friend.” Rayph opened his eyes to see Oak standing over him, fists on hips, laughing in his face. The garq grabbed Rayph by the throat and picked him up with a single paw.
He growled in Rayph’s face, his chestnut brown fur snarled in a gruesome mask of mirth. His fangs protruded from his bottom lip, gray and vicious. Rayph’s feet dangled as the garq shook him violently before dropping him to the ground again. Oak turned to Smear and stopped before the spy, looking down at him.
“Smear Kond,” Oak said with admiration in his tone. “Long I have wished for this meeting. I heard you had retired. What brings you to Hemlock, and why would you defend such a viper as Rayph Ivoryf
ist?”
Rayph felt a spark of hope. He listened closely to everything Smear said.
“Rayph is a longtime friend of mine, Oak. If he requests my aid, he will receive it.”
“Are you against watching us rend him to bits and feed him to Giggles?” Oak said.
Smear laughed. “Well, I suppose I would have to say yes to that.”
“If I release you out of professional courtesy, would you take it upon yourself to attempt such nonsense as freedom for your vile little friend?”
“I’m afraid my loyalty to him is such that I cannot let you kill him without trying to free him.”
“How about vengeance? Are you a man that would avenge him should I kill him?”
“Revenge is a slippery slope, Oak. If I were to embark on a path to vengeance, I would have to kill every one of your crew slowly,” Smear said.
“I can’t have that,” Oak said. “I suppose I will have to kill you then, as well. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.”
“Shame, huh?” Smear said.
“Well, will you at least have a meal with me before your fate is decided?”
“Sounds delightful. I must say I am famished,” Smear said. Rayph rolled his eyes and kicked the floor.
Oak laughed. He turned to Rayph. “Until we return, I will leave you with someone to keep you company,” Oak opened the door once more to expose the shadow of a man standing outside the room. There were about six people it could have been, and Rayph held out hope for any of five. But when the sixth walked in, cracking his knuckles, Rayph felt his sphincter tighten as fear locked up his joints and brought him near to crying.
Giggles stepped in the room, displaying his flame-scarred face. Rayph groaned.
“I see you remember Giggles, Rayph. He speaks of you often. Has ever since you seared his face and left him like this,” Oak said.
Giggles laughed. He held up a crossbow and shot a bolt at Rayph, catching him in the right knee.
“I’ll leave you two to catch up. Can I show you the way to the mess?” Oak said as he unchained Smear’s leg irons.
Smear stood and nodded. “Can’t wait.” He cast a deadly look at Rayph, and Rayph took heart until Giggles grabbed the bolt sticking out of his knee and twisted it. Rayph screamed behind his gag, and Giggles giggled.
Giggles proffered a red pearl fit into a black collar with a lock. He wrapped it around Rayph’s neck and grinned. The lock whispered closed and Giggles pulled the gag from Rayph’s mouth. With the power of the pearl sapping him of all his magical potential, Rayph’s voice would serve no purpose but to scream.
The pirate took the bolt out of Rayph’s leg and placed his hand in the wound. He shifted Rayph’s kneecap before pouring a healing potion on the knee. The wound healed wrong, and Rayph wondered if he would ever walk straight again.
Giggles slapped the healed leg, and Rayph groaned at the pinch. The pirate unlocked Rayph’s shackles and smiled. He untied Rayph’s legs and jerked him to his feet. Rayph stood on his good leg as long as he could, but Giggles stepped back, allowing Rayph room to fight. He placed weight on his bad leg, and it screamed. Rayph choked back the cry that threatened to erupt from his mouth, while Giggles giggled again.
He laid his crossbow on the floor and pulled two knives. Rayph gritted his teeth at the promise of more pain and curled his fist into a rock. As they began their dance, Rayph held little hope of surviving.
Rayph lay on the pitching floor. Giggles knelt above him. He poured healing potion on Rayph’s hand where his index finger had been cut off. The wound healed closed and Rayph groaned. Giggles pulled Rayph’s cheek wound open as he poured healing potion on his face and the cheek healed to a deep scar. He poured healing potion on the scalp where it had been torn up, leaving a ragged hairline accented by a horrible scar along Rayph’s forehead. The pirate stepped back, nodding at his work. Without ever speaking a word, he left the room, leaving the door swinging open and shut.
Rayph jumped to his feet and nearly screamed as his knee rioted with pain. He lurched to the door and out into the stairway to the deck where Oak waited for him. With relief, Rayph saw the Venture was still at port in Hemlock.
“How was your time with Giggles?” the man said. “I hope he didn’t disappoint.”
“Where is Mother? Why has she left her dirty work to a garq cretin and a psychopath archer?” The pirate crew that slowly surrounded him looked nearly enraged at the words, and Oak’s face drifted from amused to raging.
“She has left you for the shore?” Rayph said. “Watching the ship in her absence?”
“Enough!” Oak roared. “Do not speak of her again or I will change my mind and skin you alive.”
Rayph surveyed the poop deck where Oak stood, seeing Smear looking down at him. Smear moved his hand, and Rayph knew there was hope. He glanced at Oak, pain and loss evident on the garq’s face, and Rayph suddenly understood his rage.
“She has fallen,” Rayph said. A sad toll entered his chest, and he realized he cared deeply for the slain captain of the Venture. Rayph wondered at this, knowing the woman was vile, but remembering the time she had helped him out on the water and the advice she had given him long ago. Rayph’s feelings for the Venture were complicated, and he felt a lessening of sorts knowing Mother was gone.
“Killed by Drine assassins some six years ago,” the garq said.
“Give me a horn of ale that I might drink to the memory of a worthy adversary,” Rayph said. A horn was thrust in his hand, and he lifted it. “To the fiercest pirate queen to ever ride the sea. May she sail in Hell, bringing dark souls to the depths she rides.” The toast seemed to please them.
Oak sat on a barrel, staring at Rayph. “What are you doing in the greatest pirate haven on this side of the continent, Rayph? You can’t be this dumb. Or have you lost your mind along with your station?” Oak said.
Rayph looked around him at the fearsome crew and shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe that I missed you and came looking for a good beating and maiming, would you?”
The pirates laughed, and Giggles giggled.
Oak shook his head and smiled the greasy smile of a criminal. “We can’t let you go. We are taking you with us. Wait until we find someone to ransom you to. Smear, I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you. Don’t know of anyone who will pay for you, and I can’t keep you around. You’re too damn dangerous if the stories are even half accurate. Might have to kill you.”
A shadow flew over Rayph’s head as someone on a rope swung from the mast, hitting Oak in the chest with both feet. The mammoth garq hit the ground, and there was a blur of motion. Oak made to get up when a woman stood beside him, holding a crossbow to his head.
“Stay down, darling. I actually enjoyed my time with you roustabouts and would hate to kill the captain of a crew I admire so much.” She wore a wide brim hat and a scarlet scarf wrapped around her throat. Her other hand flashed out with the sword Rayph had given her and, with one solid swipe, she cut straight through the shackles that bound Smear.
Every member of the crew casually moved to grab weapons. Rayph looked for Avent and found him not far from where he was standing, whispering the words to a spell that would destroy her. Rayph slowly moved closer, letting the magic-negating power of the pearl rip the spell apart.
The woman grabbed Smear and kissed him one hard, passionate time, and Rayph laughed.
“We will hunt you to—”
Trysliana kicked Oak before he could finish his sentence.
“Don’t give me a reason to kill you, Oak. I like you, so shut up. Horsehair, where are you?” She turned to Smear and smiled. “Take one of my daggers, love, and escort one of these men to the captain’s quarters and grab your gear.” Smear did as commanded.
Horsehair stepped out of the crowd, flipping his long ponytail back over his shoulder and smiling. “Don’t suppose your real name is Analine, like you told us it was?” he said.
“Sorry dear, just a character,” she said. “Had fun with you
boys, though. Now I gotta get out of here, Horse. You are gonna come with us as far as we need in order to get away.”
Rayph thought this a bad idea. He knew Horsehair. He was tricky and conniving. “We had better take a different one, hon,” Rayph said.
“Thought this out already, Rayph. It’s him or no one,” Trysliana said.
Rayph shook his head but decided to trust her plan.
Smear returned with their gear and a key. He unfastened the collar placed on Rayph and tossed it into the sea. Trysliana nudged Oak with her foot as Rayph turned to face Avent. The mage held his hands up, and Rayph nodded. “No need to answer the question between us. We want no war with you. But we have business here and can’t wait around.”
“Smear, grab Horsehair,” Trysliana said.
Smear shoved Horsehair. They climbed off the Venture and out into the city. Smear grabbed his wife and kissed her passionately.
Servant of Death
He felt her approach as a man might feel the onset of a sickness, as a man might feel the coming of a storm. Aaron sat in the dark, a chain around his neck, his hands bound behind him, his mouth gagged. He leaned against the tub at his back and closed his eyes. He braced himself and said quietly, “I will not curse her. I will not scream at her. I will remember there was a time when I loved her.”
He heard a thump outside the door, and another. The door cracked open, light slicing wide the darkness. The slight figure bent and dragged a bulky body in, returned to the hall to grab the other, and with both bodies in the room, closed the door behind them.
The darkness was too thick to see her crossing the room toward him, too thick or afraid to display her. Neither would have surprised him. He felt her cold fingertips on his face when she pulled the gag away, and he gazed into her dark hood as she reached for his chains.
“This is how you come to me? In the dark, too ashamed to show yourself?” His mouth was nearly numb from the gag, and he flexed his lips and laughed a humorless laugh. “Spark a light. I want to see you, and I am not leaving with you.”