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The Hunt for the Three Roses

Page 28

by Jason Hubbard


  “Is that why he killed the bishop? For money?”

  She sighed. “I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have written my name if it was just a hit job. He’s followed me all the way from St. Mannington to take revenge on me.”

  “He wants you to surrender yourself to him, because if you don’t, he’ll strike again. Is that right?”

  She nodded, impressed by his intuition. “I think so. The idea is that if I refuse, then society will hand me over to him instead. If pressure from him doesn’t work, then pressure from the city will.”

  Curtis shrugged. “Not unless we catch him first. So what does he do for fun? Go to taverns or brothels?”

  “I can only go by what I heard. They say he’s not interested in women—at all. When he’s not sleeping or out on a job, he busies himself with training. He can do target practice with a bow and do melee attacks on a dummy for hours on end. Training and killing is all he lives for … oh, and trading insults with people. He avoids public places whenever he can.”

  Investigator Curtis took a moment to think, making Callie increasingly nervous. No doubt he could poke holes in her story, because she certainly could.

  “If what you say is true,” Curtis said, “then something’s changed with this man, Rainer. He used to be a reclusive assassin, but now he’s turned into an ordinary killer. He’s gone from someone who avoids attention to someone who wants it, and I can’t figure out why that is. Why does he want revenge so much? Why couldn’t he write off your failure and move on to something else?”

  “Because he hates me so much. Hatred has made him blind.”

  “Of course, miss … but I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “I told you everything I know,” she said, willing herself not to betray the lie in her features. He hates me because I cost him a six-figure fee, and I ran a sword through his gut and a dagger in his throat. He miraculously survived and should be grateful, but he can never “write it off.”

  Curtis pressured her for more information, but Callie never caved in. Afterward, she gave a physical description of Rainer to a sketch artist, who made an adequate rendition of the man. Although it was just a sketch, seeing his cold, relentless eyes chilled her to the bone, and she said a silent prayer to a God she didn’t quite believe in that Rainer would be caught before she ever saw him again.

  Later that night, she was invited to dinner with the count and his family, where she gave a full account on what she said to the guard. Sean was also there with his tutor, and although they weren’t on speaking terms, she didn’t mind him listening in. He needed to know what was going on, and he was wise enough to keep his silence.

  “I’m sure the guards will find him,” Count Guyver declared. “You can’t just murder a bishop in cold blood and not expect to pay for it. Surely this man is a fool.”

  Callie nodded in wholehearted agreement, though she wondered if Rainer truly knew what he was doing. Had he planned everything out so well that he was certain he wouldn’t get caught?

  Or perhaps he simply didn’t fear death anymore. After surviving what she did to him, how could he?

  “Well, I never knew you were in a clan of rampaging thieves,” Lady Amber said coldly. “I wish you had told me this sooner before I let you into my house.”

  “She caught the man who poisoned Dio, remember?” her husband said. “She’s not a clanswoman anymore; she’s turned a new leaf.”

  “And shame on you for not telling me yourself, Erik. Honestly, you’d think that’s something I deserve to know.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady,” Callie said. “I’ve changed my ways, honestly. All that is in the past, where it belongs. I’ll never betray your trust.”

  “Hm, you see?” the count said. “She deserves a second chance, a fresh start on things.”

  Lady Amber crossed her arms and replied, “This ‘second chance’ of hers will bring a bishop’s killer to our very doorstep.”

  Callie winced, for she was unable to dispute that. There was no telling whether or not Rainer would hit close to Callie’s new home. She looked to Sean for emotional support, but he simply focused on his meal. It didn’t surprise her, but it made her further slip into depression. She felt so small and unsafe, like a beetle under someone’s palm. She tried to take the count’s words to heart, believing that Rainer would be caught before he could do anything more, but the law had been chasing Rainer for a long time yet never caught him. He had dispatched several high-profile targets and had gotten away with every single one.

  But maybe this time would be different. The guards now had his face on profile, and soon everyone in the city will be on the lookout for him. He won’t so much as step into an inn without attracting gazes from people interested in a little reward money. Surely, his days of freedom were numbered.

  Still, a blade to the gut and one to the throat … how the hell could he walk from that? And can he do it again?

  Nineteen

  As Callie had thought, the killing didn’t end with the bishop.

  The next day, a mother of two was found slain in her quaint dwelling. Her traumatized children spoke of a man in a short black cloak who threatened to end their lives should they clean off the name on a wall that he wrote with their mother’s blood.

  On the day after, wanted posters were put up on nearly every posting board and street corner—mass-produced copies made by magic with a clean depiction of the sketch of Rainer’s face. The reward was five hundred gold, which was an impressive sum even for the murderer of a cleric. But the curious thing was that the reward was promised only if Rainer was brought in alive, with no mention of him being dead. It got a lot of tongues wagging, for everyone wondered what difference it made whether the man was dead or alive. He was the killer of a bishop and an innocent woman—surely he should be stopped by any means?

  On the evening the posters were put up and Rainer’s name was on everyone’s lips, no other murder scene was found. But on the following afternoon, an elderly ferryman who lived in a shack by the Lorenshal River was discovered with his eyes gouged out and his tongue cut off. Callie’s name was written with his blood on the wall he was propped up against. The news spread more quickly than that of the second murder, and everyone wondered who this mysterious “Callie” was. The guards were ordered not to reveal that information, so a few intrusive souls posted small rewards for any information on who the bloody messages pertained to.

  Since it was a Sunday, Count Guyver and his family attended Mass at Five Sisters Cathedral, the choice place of worship for the city’s peerage. Sean accompanied them along with Master Brown, and it was the first Mass Sean went to in months. There had been moments of prayer held during his time in the Mage Corps, but they were a poor substitute for a proper Mass, and he was excited to finally attend one after so long. He ended up forgetting many song lyrics and lines from the Disciple’s Creed, but he remembered the basic prayers and the proper steps in Communion. Once it was finished, he felt spiritually refreshed and fulfilled, thankful to God for granting him a new start on life away from his unfaithful father and a merciless king.

  That feeling ended at the house, when a page from the palace delivered a missive. King Paulson was requesting Sean’s assistance in tracking down and capturing Rainer, adding that he would be joining three other mages and that someone would come by tomorrow to pick him up.

  Sean had a short discussion about this with the count in his study, along with Master Brown. “I’m not against going, but I’m still an apprentice,” he said. “Why did His Majesty single me out?”

  The count picked up the missive from his desk and looked it over. “It says that you helped him with a ‘personal matter’—which must be giving Jonas to him—so he’s sure you’ll be successful in another. That’s just King Paulson for you: give him a pinch, and he’ll take the whole barrel. I’m not in the habit of defying the King, but if you want, I can arg
ue against you going.”

  “But if you go, it shall help along your certification with the Ministry,” Master Brown said. “Work experience can go a long way in passing your tests and trials.”

  “I see, but why are four mages going to search for this killer?” Sean asked. “What about the city guard?”

  “I’ve noticed the posters say that the killer is to be brought in alive,” Count Guyver replied. “A team of mages will help ensure that.”

  “I should teach you a few things to help you,” Master Brown said. “I have no idea why the guard would only want a killer alive, unless there’s something about him we don’t know.”

  “Don’t worry overmuch, Sean,” the count said. “There won’t be much danger. You’ll have three others watching your back, and together you can bring in one man without too much trouble.”

  Sean thanked him for the assurance, though he couldn’t share in the count’s confidence. For months, he had been trained for combat, taught how to kill as many enemies as he could in a short amount of time. When push comes to shove tomorrow, he’ll have to unlearn that training and focus on capture, not termination. It was ironic since Rainer was a horrible man who was far worse than most enemy combatants he had seen on the battlefield, so keeping him alive was a kindness the man probably didn’t deserve.

  Sean wanted to tell Callie that night that he was going after Rainer. They still weren’t speaking to each other, but Sean thought she should know that Rainer would soon be apprehended before Sean’s very eyes. After all, Rainer had horribly slaughtered Callie’s old partner, Dan, and Sean himself had seen the bloody results, so Rainer was a part of their awkward history that had yet to be closed. The news might also encourage Callie to open back up to him, whether she was still angry at him or not.

  But he was informed by the butler that Callie was off on a date with Sir Barnes, who was apparently sworn to a new master. Sean didn’t know how to feel about that. He supposed he was happy for her since Sir Barnes seemed like a gentleman, plus it was good that Callie was setting down roots in a favorable part of Lonsaran. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that she wouldn’t be happy with Sir Barnes for some reason, and he wanted her to remain in the house until Rainer was caught. He could already hear her arguments should he ever mention his misgivings, and he smiled in spite of himself. She was her own woman, free to make her own path and mistakes, and although they practically came from the same place, it didn’t mean they had be bound together in everything they did. After all, the initial plan after leaving St. Mannington was to reach Asturia together and separate afterward. Though many things had changed since then, it was probably for the best that they keep each other at arm’s length. The two of them were hardly two peas in a pod.

  On Monday morning, at the count’s insistence, Sean was dressed in the uniform of one of the house’s guards: a blue leather tunic, a belt inscribed with defensive runes, brown trousers with kneepads, and steel-toe boots. They decided not to include a helmet so his hearing wouldn’t be inhibited, and Sean’s suggestion of a cape was dismissed because it would just be a fashion accessory and not anything useful (although he had grown to like wearing a cape in his army days).

  Master Brown also gave him a wand from his own collection, saying it was one of his best. With its shaft of finished maple and a silver handgrip with tiny runes, it was designed to channel medium-level spells with maximum efficiency and little kick. “It won’t let you down,” Master Brown said. “Work with the others and remember what I taught you. Don’t be afraid to use a little elbow grease to bring that bastard down, but don’t get in the others’ way.”

  Sean practiced with the wand for two hours while waiting for his pickup by the front gate. He created small hovering fireballs, levitated small stones, and made a few poor illusions that one could see through. Naturally, he got increasingly nervous. It wasn’t just that he had captured the eye of the King, or that he was about to join other mages on a special mission. He had done such things before. No, this nervous feeling that made his mouth run dry was due to the fact that, if all went according to plan, he would soon meet the man who had changed his life.

  According to Callie, it had been Rainer who was commissioned to assassinate King Hugo, and instead of doing it himself, he went to Clan Reno, who then sent Callie. Callie had ended up abducting Sean, and things hadn’t been the same for him ever since (exempting one brief visit to his old home). He had a lot to thank this terrible man for, and he intended to do so with extreme prejudice.

  At around eight, a horse-and-buggy stopped by, and its driver asked for Sean. Sean climbed in the passenger seat and introduced himself. “Greetings. Name’s Don Orlov,” the driver said—a plump, pleasant-looking man with brown hair, fuzzy eyebrows, and a broad nose over a small mustache. “Have to say, you’re younger than I expected.”

  “Yes, but I have battle experience, if that means anything,” Sean said.

  “That’s good.” Don snapped the reins and got the horses going.

  “So, Master Orlov—”

  “Please, call me Don.”

  “Well, Don … I have battle experience, but I’ve never been on a manhunt like this. Have you?”

  “Sure. I run a private practice, but the guard likes to hire me for difficult cases.”

  “I assume we are to capture Rainer alive. Do you know why?”

  “Just between you and me, I hear it’s the King’s doing. He had the wanted posters say the reward was only for bringing in Rainer alive. Why, I don’t know.”

  “Where are we meeting the others?”

  “We’ll see them at the entrance to the Red Borough.”

  “Do we have any leads on Rainer’s location?”

  “No, but he’s probably hiding out in the Red Borough.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  Don gave him a funny look. “Don’t you know?”

  “Sorry, I’m still new to the city. Is this ‘Red Borough’ the usual hangout for criminals?”

  “You could say that, but there’s more to it. Place used to be called the ‘Jade Borough.’ It had a lot of nice little homes perfect for any family. It had a park, an amusement center, and an extensive water system. Picture perfect. But then a recession hit the city, and a lot of people had to move out. And when good people moved out, gangs moved in, converting houses into hideouts and laboratories. They went deep into the drug trade, making thousands of gold by selling sacks in other parts of the city.”

  “Couldn’t the guards do anything?”

  “Of course they could, and they did. There were a few operations where they shut down some big labs, but like weeds, more cropped up in other places. But the city guard mostly didn’t want to do too much activity in the Borough, for fear of driving out more families. Funny priorities, I tell ya. Over time, the different gangs tried to outdo each other, making more, harder drugs, and racking the prices up as high as they dared. Eventually they began to hire alchemists to invent drugs no one had ever seen before, stuff that could lift you all the way to the moon. Customers loved it, couldn’t get enough, so the gangs worked their alchemists double-time to meet demand … and that’s when it happened.”

  “It?”

  “The explosion. You ever see an alchemist’s explosion where the fire is either green or a deep red, and it obliterates everything? Well, imagine that explosion tenfold, and that’s what happened in the Borough. Made an entire block disappear in the blink of an eye. But that’s not all. You see, the magic that swirled around that explosion did, uh … weird things to the area. Made the entire borough uninhabitable, so the city changed it from the Jade Borough to the Red Borough. It’s a red zone that everyone’s told not to go in.”

  “But why? What happened to it?” Sean asked, unable to keep the dread from his voice. “What do you mean by ‘weird things?’”

  “Oh, you’ll see when we get there. Let’s make it a s
urprise.”

  “Well, if the place is ‘uninhabitable,’ why do you think Rainer is there?”

  “You can still be there, but no one can really live there. The residual magic makes it impossible. You’ll see!”

  Sean grumpily crossed his arms and nearly told the man he already had enough surprises to last a lifetime. But he would humor him for now and trust that Don knew what he was doing.

  They arrived at the district forty minutes later, coming to an iron gate across a street. There was no wall apparent, only signs warning people to stay out. The other two men awaited them by a bench, who introduced themselves as Johnny Wyche and Brad Weast. Johnny had the air of a free spirit, with longish dark hair and piercings on his nose and brows. Like Sean, he wore leather battle attire complete with steel shoulder guards and a falchion on his hip. Brad was an older man with gray streaks in his black locks, but he was a tough guy with a lot of good years left in him. His simple attire of a brown jacket and black trousers made it clear he wasn’t expecting much of a fight, though he did carry a steel staff topped with a glowing ruby. As for Don, he appeared the most like a mage, wearing the traditional attire of a black robe with green etching, plus a red cape and a rope belt.

  “I hate this Goddamn place,” Johnny said. “Every time I go by it, I think it’ll explode in my face again. How long’s it’s been, five years?”

  “Five and seven months,” Brad said. “Don … what’s the kid’s story?”

  “I don’t know, he’s fresh meat from Count Guyver. Says he’s seen battle.”

  Brad studied Sean with a look Sean didn’t care for, so the younger man said with a slight sneer, “I’ve seen Knox’s Stand get reduced to rubble, and that was only a minute after I stood on it. If you know about that battle, then yes, I admit, I was on the side of the Consarians. But I’m pledged to Count Guyver now, so the Consarians will never have me again. Now let’s get this man, Rainer, and be done with it.”

 

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