by Jesse Teller
“I accept your gift, Ivoryfist. Tell me why you are here.”
“I am in Hemlock to fight a plague of vampires. I have come here to ask your help.”
In a swirl of conversation Rayph could not decipher, every woman whispered at once in a language he was hopeless to understand. He waited patiently, letting them talk around and about him.
“Why should we intercede in this war you wage?” the serpent woman hissed. “The master of your enemies has not trifled with us.”
Rayph nodded to her. “You bring up a good point, but I will say this in response. They will come. Tristan the Sour devours everything in his path. It is an insult to him to let a person survive free of the vampire’s curse. Have you sat with him? Have you heard his words?”
“I have,” the crone said. “He gave assurances he will leave our coven out of his war.”
“He lied,” Rayph said. “Did you look into his eyes and see the lie? I will let the eyes of my enemy speak my truth. Did you believe him when he made that promise? Tell me you have not begun preparations for war against the vampires. Tell me I am wrong and you trust everything that has come out of his mouth, and I will walk from here right now. I will trouble you no more. But if you looked into those eyes and saw the lie for what it was, then help me save your town and fight beside me.”
The Pristine spoke. Her words were silent, but the room, save Rayph, seemed to hear them. He looked her in the eye as she spoke, never turning from her deadly gaze or trembling before her awesome power. This woman was the head of an order that spanned the continent. She was the most gifted poisoner possibly in the whole of the world. Rayph knew of three peers to this woman. Only three other women around the globe commanded as much respect and knew their trade as well as she. Rayph knew, without a doubt, he stood now before the deadliest woman on the continent.
“Then ask your questions, Mirror,” she finally said aloud in a language Rayph could understand.
The twins behind the bar opened their mouths as one and spoke with two separate voices that blended together, producing a harmony both beautiful and disturbing. “What sort of fight would we make, do you imagine? We possess no swords. We are not trained to do combat with these creatures. We are women of the cauldron with no fighting skills whatsoever. Our deadly sister Drelis may be able to stare these brutes in the face and lay them low, and we are proud to have her as one of ours, but we cannot march out in the street with you, Ivoryfist.” Both mouths closed at once, and Rayph suddenly realized he did not know which one to look at as he answered. He stepped back and turned to all of them, letting his gaze fall upon each woman in turn.
“I would not ask you to stand and fight beside me. My respect for your order drives me to protect you from that sort of battle. I would ask you to fight our enemy in your own arena. Fight him in a way he cannot rival. Fight him with your cauldrons and potions. Give me a poison to destroy them with. Provide me with an antidote for their plague. With each victim they feed upon, their sickness spreads. They are the poison of Hemlock now, and soon, they will move to infect the whole of the continent.”
“If we help this man, we open ourselves up to attack by this enemy. Does Tristan, even now, know you speak with us?” the gypsy witch said.
“If Tristan is looking for me, he will find evidence of me walking the streets,” Rayph said. “My illusion walks the paths and byways of Hemlock, giving show of my appearance. I have also placed one of mine amongst you to protect you from harm. Drelis will not leave your side until this threat has been dealt with. She has constant access to my crew and me. If any one of you should feel the danger of bodily harm, I will bring all of my team with me. We can keep you safe.”
“The word of a man, what stock can be taken in that?” the smoking woman in the balcony above spat. “Too long we have meddled with men. Our coven is at its strength when it sticks to the word of women and shuns dealing with men.”
Rayph looked up at her and nodded. “Poison is a woman’s friend. Swords and shields belong to men. Women are subtle, scornful. Men are brutes and savages. We all have a part to play in the world, and my respect is great for the power you wield. But men and women were meant to fight battles together. We were meant to stand as one. My team has four women and three men including myself. I gathered this crew together because they are mighty, and I trust every one of them to do a difficult job. If you would not take my word, then ask any of the women standing with me, and you will find them ready to make the same pledge to you.”
At this, Drelis stepped out of the gloom and into the light of the silver globe. She stood beside Rayph and murmuring and whispering began. “I am a Mother Smite before anything else. I ask the Pristine to look into my heart and find my loyalty. Never have I turned my back to one of my sisters, and never has my word failed you. I vow your protection now. If the enemy attacks, I swear on my soul that I will fight for you, and the crew I belong to will as well.”
She touched her fetish and whispered. “If you make me break my word, I will feed you to my lover.”
Rayph said nothing. He lowered his head and waited for a verdict.
There was once more a swirling of whispers. Rayph’s skin crawled as the words of his fate were spoken just out of reach of his ears. A lively discussion broke out with many lifted voices. Drelis hissed in the language of the coven, a unique speak none other than those embraced by the order could understand.
After what seemed like hours, the Pristine spoke. “Rayph Ivoryfist, your reputation for respecting our sex has billowed out before you as a herald. Many of my sisters object, but we have come to a decision in this matter. We will aid you by crafting you a poison that can destroy the enemy. Tell us what you need it to do.”
“Can you provide me with an antidote to cure vampirism?” he asked.
“No one can do this thing,” the avelen said. “Once victims are bitten, they die. They continue to function and walk and feed, but they are no longer living persons. No poison can reverse death. And no antidote can be created to restore life. It is forbidden by our order to make such a thing.”
“Then can you devise a tool of your own design to help me save this city?”
They collectively smiled, and Rayph shuddered at the thought of the power they wielded.
“That we can do,” the elondri gypsy said.
Rayph thanked them, and as soon as possible, he left. One does not trifle too long with a witches’ coven, nor with a poisoners’ guild. Such things were unwise, for this breed of person was quick to anger, and that was the last thing Rayph needed.
An Answer to Kond
He stumbled through the castle and into the main ballroom in chains. Aaron struggled under the weight of the shackles. He kept his eye roving, fighting to keep his attention up, but he was weary.
Jetula had been draining his blood, little by little, for days and sending it to Kat. Now she had been commanded to bring him before the hive, and she snarled as she shoved and kicked him forward.
When he stepped into the room, all eyes turned to him, the vampires drinking him in with their nostrils and slowly setting their eyes to him. He shoved his way through the growing crowd as hands groped and reached for him. One bold man in rich clothes stepped before him, grabbing his shoulders. He opened his mouth like a bear trap, and Aaron’s heart jumped. The man’s tongue began to smoke, and he screamed. He stepped back, flailing and howling, as his tongue exploded and the mouth sprayed blood. Aaron backed into Jetula’s claw swipe. He winced and arched his back.
The vampire before him hissed and kicked as blood poured from his eyes and his body sweat blood. Aaron fought to remember when he had ever seen magic like this. He thought of every encounter he had ever had with a spellcaster, but could not find an instance like this one. But as he watched the beast suffer and smoke, he realized he had heard of this one other place before, a story told to him long ago, a legend of a monster so devious and dark it had terrified him as a child. Aaron looked upon it now and his body quaked in fear.
The room pulled back in horror at the sight of the man’s boiling blood. In the back of the room, Kat sat atop a throne, with Tristan standing, pointing a splayed hand in the direction of the vampire on the ground, who now kicked and moaned.
“This fiend is not for your fang. His blood belongs to your mistress. Those who attempt to taste of him will suffer my wrath,” Tristan said. Aaron looked at the vampire steaming at his feet, and he fought back his panic. He kicked the body, and the room snarled. Jetula lashed at him again.
Kat laughed. “He is a darling, is he not?” she said. “Bring him here, Jetula. I wish to taste him.”
“If you die at her hands,” Jetula snarled, “I will find a way to follow you into Hell and flay your skin from your puny body.”
“The demons of Hell know my name. You will have to wait in line,” Aaron said.
He came before Kat, staring at her with hate and venom.
“My delectable treat, how fairs your strength? You must be weak by now,” Kat said. “I must be careful not to drink you dry.”
“If hate were poison, you would be long dead by now, Kat,” Aaron said. “I will have to try harder.”
Jetula smacked him across the back of the head, and he kicked back at her. His foot connected with her knee, and she cried out in pain. The hall, which had slowly wound back to its previous chatter, silenced. All stared. Jetula stumbled back, hissing. Tristan held up his hand, and she stopped.
“Calm yourself, slave,” Aaron said to Jetula. “Your master will punish you if you lay a finger to me.”
Jetula stepped forward. “My hate for this creature is blistering. Let me feed on him and my dedication to you will be unfaltering,” she said.
Kat seemed to chew on this idea and nodded, then the goblet was brought to her, and a golden filigree blade. Her eyes lit up. She stood. Her body was still very weak, but his blood was strengthening her. She stumbled a bit, then stopped before him. She licked his cheek, the overwhelming stench of her breath bringing a gag to his throat. When he swallowed it down, he cursed, wishing he had vomited on her.
She shivered as she tasted his flesh. She drew the blade across his neck, careful not to cut too deep.
“Knees, now,” she commanded. He spat on her. She wiped the spittle from her face and grinned. “Knees,” she said to Jetula, and Aaron’s legs were kicked from behind. He dropped, and Tristan grabbed his hair, bending his neck over the goblet Kat had set on the floor.
Aaron stared as his lifeblood drained into the cup. He thought of Peter. He thought of Jordai and Gralton. If things did not change soon, he would never see them again. Aaron fought the tears and pulled up his hate.
The night rolled by with each dance playing out before him. He watched it all go by him, waiting for any opening. Jetula stood by the throne Aaron knelt beside, and she watched over him. Every now and again, she kicked or smacked him. Aaron growled, but any other action was beyond him. He looked at the goblet that had been filled two more times with his blood. Kat’s love of his blood was killing him. He squeezed his hands. He felt no strength in them whatsoever, and he cursed.
“Go and dance. Find a man’s arm to bless, Leopard. I need to talk to my lover, and you are not invited to overhear,” Kat said.
Jetula grunted but said nothing until Aaron provoked her.
“Yeah, whore, go look for a man willing to part with a copper to fuck your holes,” Aaron spat.
Jetula curled her hands to claws and pulled back for the swipe. Tristan stepped forward, and she stepped back. She huffed and turned and left. Aaron watched her go and thought of Kat beside him. He frantically thought of what to do before collapsing to the ground, pretending to pass out.
“There is a familiar power within the city. It is cloaked by some magical means, but I have felt it before. Something hunts us, I am sure of it,” Tristan said. “We ought to keep you under guard at all times. I want to bring in our warriors and surround you with a legion of beasts as well.”
She stroked his arm and tsked away his concerns. “I am almost at full power again. When I reach that state, no force on this continent can withstand me. I do not fear a vampire hunter. I am nestled deep within a city filled with my servants and slaves. I am untouchable.”
“You are a fool,” Aaron heard spat from nowhere. At once, a great ripping sound filled the air and warmth billowed in from before the throne. Aaron groaned and shifted in his place but was ignored.
A fierce-looking mage appeared, bedecked in black robes of silk, carrying a tall staff. Beside him stood a beast of stone. It was barbed with horns, its hands locked into perpetual fists. The mage’s black hair seemed to steam, and he snarled, unafraid at the vampiress and her man.
“You are unwelcome,” Kat said. “I did not summon you.”
“I am not summoned by my servants,” the man said. “I freed you from Mending Keep. It was my power that found where he hid you. You may think yourself beyond me, but remember, I command the Stain. I possess an army far more powerful than you and your blood lappers.”
“Black Cowl,” Tristan hissed, “Master.” It seemed the word wounded him to say. “What has brought you to us now? What has you in a tizzy?”
“You are careless. The streets should be scoured for the Manhunters. You ought to be vigilant against our enemy.”
“Smear alone frightens me. The rest of his band of brigands is not to worry about,” Kat said. “We have spies out searching for Rayph, and we would know if he were here. We have an answer for all of them, save Smear. And when I am back to full power, I will be able to destroy them all with little trouble. Your fears are ludicrous.”
“The priestess concerns me,” Black Cowl said.
“She will find no allies here,” Tristan said. “No church of Cor-lyn-ber exists within the walls of this city. She would be alone if she were to come here. One holy warrior is no concern.”
“Your arrogance is blinding,” Black Cowl said. “I have brought for you a gift.”
“This brute of a mindless beast?” Kat said.
“Yes. It is honed to the aura of Smear Kond. If he is within a certain radius of you, it will come to life and crush this enemy,” Black Cowl said. “I knew of your fear of Kond. This is my answer to it.”
Aaron looked at Kat’s face, trepidation housed there. She looked at Tristan, who nodded. “It would not hurt to have an answer for the spy on hand. We will accept.”
“Good. Now send out more spies. Ivoryfist is here, I can feel it,” Black Cowl said.
He turned, and with a wave of his hand, a hole ripped open in the air, and he was gone.
Aaron ran the name Smear Kond through his head. He had an ally out there. He just had to find a way to get to him.
The Drone
“Hey, boys and girls, did you miss me?” Rayph heard the sass in Trysliana’s words over the power of the fetish, and he smiled.
“Trysliana, are you okay?” Smear said with real worry in his voice.
“I am, darling. I’m fine. What did I miss?”
“Rayph tried to get himself bitten by a vampire,” Dreark said.
“Dreark set her on fire before an audience and threw the city in a panic,” Rayph said. “Then he told everyone we were in town. That should be fun.”
“Rayph, dammit!” Dreark roared.
“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Drelis said. “I’m glad you’re okay, Trys. What can you tell us?”
“I’ve got my finger on the pulse and have found some disturbing things.”
“First things first, what did you do with Horsehair?” Rayph said.
“Yeah, Rayph, you don’t have to worry about them at all. As a matter of fact, I told the Venture to stay in the city in case we need them,” Trysliana said.
“Huh?” they all said collectively.
“Well, I found out every time they are in town, they are desperately trying to settle an old score. I guess they had a guy with them named Peeps?” she said.
“Brilliant tactician.
Hated dealing with him back when he was alive,” Rayph said.
“Well, Peeps died at the hand of a citizen of Hemlock, an old pirate captain named Connor with a vendetta against him. I got in good with Connor, and when his gang was not watching, I put him in a room with Horsehair.”
“You did what?” Drelis said.
“Yeah, I sent Horsehair in to finish the vendetta. It stirred up Connor’s gang real bad. They don’t know who did it, but they don’t really care. Guy had a lot of enemies. Anyway, they are bickering over the power and items he left behind. Frees me up to be other places. Horsehair was thrilled and vowed to help us if he could. I’m sure he spoke for Oak when he said it. So if we get into a bind, we have the Venture to call on.”
Rayph was speechless and could do nothing but look across the table at Smear with wide eyes and open mouth. Smear laughed and shook his head. A pall was lifting from the whole group, and Rayph wanted to take advantage of it.
“Welcome home, Trysliana. We have no time for a family reunion. I need your help,” Rayph said.
“What can I do for you, dear?”
“I need you to find a woman for me. Smear, want to tell her for me?”
“We noticed the lady of Hemlock, or the Poison Queen as she is sometimes called, didn’t show up to Dreark’s little show. Seemed odd, so Rayph sent me to check it out. The servants were told she was away. Said that Yoah Hemlock, the lord of the city, had worried profoundly about her safety with everything that was going on and sent her to court in Nardoc to be watched over by the king’s guard.
“But I got the valet drunk, and he told me the carriage did leave the city, but a day later retuned empty,” Smear said. “With this guy, everything is about sex. He told me about every little escapade he ever had, so when he told me the lady was staying with a lover in town, I dismissed it. But I got to thinking about it, and I decided she is in the city somewhere, why not at a lover’s, or worse?”