by Alex Bledsoe
“No one has to tell a flying fish to jump, either. They just do it.”
“Look, it’s one guard, and I can take care of him.”
“One guard that we know of. As I recall, one guard made you show up at my office, going, ‘Pleeeeease, Jane, come with me and save my ass.’”
“You’re wasting time. You’ll lose them.”
“No, I won’t. I know exactly where they’re going.”
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
“It’s a goddamn port city, Eddie. They’re moving cargo, so they’re going to the docks.”
“You, being an ex-pirate, would know that area much better than me. Gosh, I’m glad you’re here.”
She glared. “Don’t think you outsmarted me, LaCrosse,” she grumbled, grabbing her sword and cloak. She swirled out of the room in a huff. I resumed watching the house across the street.
If Moon’s information was correct, the place was a chamber of genteel horrors, where orphans from the streets and children snatched from distant villages were used in ways I didn’t even want to think about, as training for their final destinations. He was unsure how many kids might be inside: anywhere from a couple to possibly a dozen or more. Their arrivals and departures were carefully ignored by paid-off constabulary. It was the kind of grubby open secret that all big cities nursed; only, this one was worse than mere gambling or adult prostitution. If he was right and I was right, somewhere in there was a wide-eyed little boy from Neceda who I’d known since he was a baby.
I couldn’t let myself get angry, though. Anger made you sloppy, and I had enough handicaps with my sword arm out of commission. Besides, these people weren’t angry: they operated a business, and if I wanted to take them down and get Auko back safely, I had to be as cool and methodical as they were.
In my wayward youth, I’d been a mercenary, and I still knew how to kill people quickly and efficiently. I tried not to; my conscience, numbed and atrophied for all those years, had regrown since I became a sword jockey. But sometimes, that skill set came in handy, as it did when I stood in the alley beside our boarding house and used a small collapsible crossbow to take out the guard with a bolt through the neck, effectively silencing any last cry of warning. Even left-handed, I was a pretty good shot.
He fell in the doorway and didn’t move, like a passed-out drunk. He might not have known the nature of the place he was guarding, but that chance was slim; likely he’d thought of it as just another job and could’ve cared less what went on inside, even if he did know about it. At least, that’s what I told myself to justify killing him.
I waited to see if other guards would appear. When they didn’t, I scurried across the street, stepped over the body, and hid in the same doorway. I certainly felt no frisson of crippling fear, but since I had the key in my pocket, perhaps that negated it. Or perhaps the spell itself was bullshit.
I listened at the door and heard nothing. Then I banged on it with my good hand and shouted, “Hey! Open up! Somebody just shot at me!”
I jumped when the lock on the door began to turn. I stepped to one side as it opened and a scar-faced man stepped out. I drove my dagger into his belly, tilting the thrust upward so that the point got under his ribs and found one of his lungs. He fell, unable to scream, atop the other man.
Well, that was two people dead in something under a quarter of an hour, with one arm symbolically, if not literally, tied behind my back. Jane would never believe it.
So, now the door was open, and the dark interior beckoned. But as I was about to enter, I felt that tickle on the back of my neck and turned. I don’t know what I expected, but the enormous, silent man from the meeting with Moon was not it. Once again he was right there, and even if I could’ve gotten a weapon into play, I doubted I could hit anything vital before he made his move.
Sham the Hushed held up one hand. In it was a stone key identical to mine. He winked at me and smiled, then nodded at the dead guard, whose pockets were expertly turned out. He gestured for me to precede him inside.
I entered the darkened foyer, cursing myself for trusting people so openly yet again, and swearing vengeance on Harry Lockett, Umber Kale, and especially Jane. Gordon Marantz was off the hook, since no one expects a gangster to be honest. Sham closed the door and stood looking down at me.
Emboldened by his stillness when he clearly had the drop on me, I said softly, “Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”
Sham touched his ear, then his mouth, and shook his head. That explained the moniker “The Hushed.”
I thought for a moment, then mimed shaking hands, followed by a stabbing motion, and ended by giving him a quizzical look. He smiled in understanding, then offered his hand. We shook, or rather, he shook mine and the rest of me with it. He touched a pair of dry fingertips to my mouth, then his eyes. He could read lips. That simplified things.
Again, he gestured that I should lead the way.
The foyer was lavish, with rugs and tapestries visible in the moonlight coming through the high, narrow windows above the door. We reached the first room, a parlor with couches, comfortable chairs, and piles of stuffed toys and dolls. Those brought me up short; the decor otherwise was exactly like you’d find in a high-class whorehouse. Fury, the cold kind I tried never to feel, began to uncoil deep inside me. What kind of monsters were these people?
Off the parlor was a short hallway that led to rooms with closed doors. I stood listening and caught the sound of a child whimpering behind one of them. I traced it to a particular door locked from the outside by a deadbolt. I turned it slowly until it clicked free.
The room beyond was dark. I heard the whimperer move on what sounded like a bed, no doubt thinking another of the establishment’s “guests” had arrived. I said softly, “We’re the good guys, kid. We’re here to get you out.”
There was another whimper. I couldn’t blame him, or her, for not believing me.
The moonlight shone in from another high window, and I spotted a lamp on a nearby table. With my left hand I clumsily used the pair of spark stones beside it to strike a flame, and got my first look at the room.
It was a twisted, overdone idea of a child’s room, with everything too fluffy, too pink, and way too lacy. The bed against the wall had a canopy with an image of a little girl playing with sheep stitched into it.
On the bed sat a real little girl. She had black hair curled into ringlets and wore a grown-up style sleeping shift. The worst part was that her face was covered with adult-style makeup that had been smeared by … well, I tried not to think about that. Fear and resignation filled her wide eyes. She was maybe seven years old, just like Auko.
Her left ankle was manacled to a bedpost. I said, “Don’t worry. We’re here to take you somewhere safe. This is my friend Sham. He’s not as scary as he looks.”
Picking the lock on the manacle was no problem, although I had to use my right hand and every movement sent lightning bolts of pain through my arm. As I worked, the little girl did nothing but stare at me. When she was free, I said, “I need to pick you up. We may have to move fast, and I’m not sure you can keep up. Do you understand?”
She nodded. I took her gently in my good arm and handed her to Sham. He held her as if he was used to it, and she snuggled against his big chest.
“Get her out of here,” I said silently but with clear enunciation. “Whatever else needs doing here, I’ll take care of it. I still have to find Auko.”
He cocked his head, puzzled by my decision.
“I can’t prioritize in this, Sham,” I said. “I can’t make her wait while I look for Auko. This is her chance. Get her out of here, get her somewhere safe, and if you want to come back, I’ll be grateful for your help.”
He nodded, turned, and vanished into the shadows. I never even heard a footstep.
It seemed inconceivable that there could be only the two men I’d killed left to watch over the place, so I assumed I’d already used up my quota of dumb luck for the night. The other rooms were thankfully empty,
although all shared the same decor.
I stuck my dagger back in my belt, threw off my sling, and stretched my right arm despite the pain. I forced my heart to stop pounding so I could catch even the slightest sound. There it was: soft voices coming from somewhere ahead and below.
I found the door easily enough; it wasn’t locked. I slipped through and padded quietly down the stone stairs.
I was a little nauseous contemplating what I might find, but it really wasn’t that unusual. There were five cells in each wall, and in the middle of the room, three rough-looking men sat playing cards around a table.
I thought hard, trying to decide what to do. Another half-step and they couldn’t fail to notice me. The cells I could see were empty, but these guys had to be guarding something. Did I really want to double my kills for the night? Would I even be able to, injured as I was? These were pros, and while I might take out one of them with the crossbow, I’d never get three bolts in the air before one of them crossed the room and got me.
Then I decided the hell with it. I strode into the room, yawned, and said, “Hi.”
The three men turned and stared at me.
“Sorry,” I said, still yawning. “I normally work days. Who’s in charge?”
One of the men said, “I am.”
By then, I’d reached the table. “So, you got the notification about me, right?”
“No, I—”
I slammed the heads of the men on either side of me into each other, making a loud thonk. I used my knee to drive the edge of the tabletop back into the man in charge, and just in time, too: he’d almost gotten his own dagger clear of its sheath. I upended the table and slammed it down on top of him, then jumped on it. I heard bones, probably ribs, snap and he let out a sharp, hissing gasp.
I stepped off the table and peered into the other cells. Two of them held lone children, both boys, and one of them was Auko. He still wore the clothes his mother had described. “Auko?”
He stared. “Mr. LaCrosse?”
“Yeah. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. But you’re hurt!”
I looked at my arm. Blood had soaked through my tunic and jacket sleeves. So much for the stitches. “Don’t worry about it. Want to get out of here?”
He got to his feet and pressed himself against the bars. “Yes, sir!”
I went back to the guards, tossed the table off the injured man, and took the keys from his belt. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth as he choked. He tried to say something but only coughed and sputtered red.
I let Auko out of the cell, then turned to the other boy. He huddled in the corner and looked even younger than Auko.
“Don’t let Kifer out,” Auko said. “He’s the one who led me to them. I snuck out of the house to play with him, and that’s when his friends grabbed me.”
That explained that. I said, “They grabbed him, too. He’s locked up just like you are now.”
“I don’t care,” he said petulantly. “He can stay in there forever.”
“No, he can’t,” I said and opened the door. “Kifer, come on.”
The boy just shook his head.
“You like it here? You want to stay locked up?”
“They feed me,” he said, half-whine and half-whimper.
Auko took my hand and said, “Come on, let’s just leave him.”
I heard raised voices and footsteps from elsewhere in the house. Guess my run of good luck had ended. I used my battlefield command voice and said to Kifer, “Get out here, you little shit. Now!”
That got him out, except he ran past me toward the stairs just as four people came down. In the lead was a beautiful white-haired woman, dressed formally but with the cold expression of someone who could kill much more easily than I could. When he saw her, Auko hid behind me without letting go of my hand.
Behind the woman were three more big, rough-looking men. Two of them carried children, their wrists and ankles bound. They hadn’t been making a delivery with that carriage; they’d been receiving one. My cold fury reasserted itself.
“Auko,” I said softly, “no matter what I say, do it. Do you understand me?” I felt him nod.
The woman smiled as Kifer desperately hugged her. “Shhh, it’s all right; the bad man won’t hurt you,” she said as she patted his back. Then to me she added, “I’m going to enjoy torturing the truth out of someone as resourceful as you seem to be.”
“A whole pile of your people have tried,” I said. “It hasn’t worked out too well. Now step aside and let us go, and we’ll call it even.”
She had the patrician air of wealth and privilege, secure in her certainty that she could do as she wished to most people. “No. A man like you, who comes in here to save little children, you’re not going to just walk out and leave these others.”
She gestured at the two bound children. One was a boy, one a girl. They looked like they might be related. Completely unbidden, I felt a pang of sympathy for what their parents must be feeling, to lose not just one but two, possibly all, of their children. She was right, but I didn’t have to let her know that. “I’m paid to find this one. That’s all.”
“So, you’re all about the money? How much?”
“Twenty-five gold pieces a day, plus expenses.”
“Do you know who I am? I pay more for a single gown than you’ll earn in your whole pathetic life. And can you even conceive of how much I’ll get for these children? Can you imagine how much the people whose tastes run to this sort of thing will pay? It would purchase your services for years.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” If I kept her talking, I might think of a way out of this, although so far, that plan hadn’t really worked out. Where the hell was Jane? If she’d followed them out, why hadn’t she followed them back? Or had the Coward’s Spell really worked on her? If it had.…
And then a section of wall swung open, and five more men came out behind me. Well, this was getting better and better. They kept their distance, and for a moment, that puzzled me, but then I realized it was because of Auko. He was valuable merchandise, and they didn’t want him damaged. At least not unless someone paid handsomely for it.
“It’s time to stop the games,” the woman said. “I know who you are, too. Eddie LaCrosse, from Neceda. Sword jockey, former mercenary, all around bad news, but with one fatal flaw: you won’t be bought off.”
Again, she was right, but it didn’t seem prudent to confirm that. “There’s bought, and there’s bought. You’ve been spouting rose petals. Make me a hard offer.”
She smiled. I’d seen wolves smile like that. “Stalling is pointless. Let go of the boy.”
At those words, Auko hugged me tighter. I kept hoping to see movement on the stairs behind them, indicating Jane had come to the rescue. But the shadows remained still and dark.
“If you’re expecting rescue from your friends, you’re wasting your time,” she said. “Moon?”
Moon slunk down the stairs, emerging from the shadows like some human rat. I hadn’t spotted him when he came in with them, which said a lot about his ability to hide in the shadows.
I glared at him. “I see my friends didn’t know you as well as they thought they did.”
He shrugged. “Like you said, there’s bought and there’s bought. I hate what these people do, but they pay mighty well to do it. They were very financially appreciative when I told them you were coming.”
“I bet they were.”
“They wanted to see what you’d do against the Coward’s Spell, so we just let you do your job. We knew there was no way you’d get out of here in one piece.”
Auko was now crying. I almost wanted to join him.
Then something fast and big appeared behind the white-haired woman. By “big” I mean bigger than me and bigger than Jane. I saw a blur of hands, and the men around Gozel fell like puppets with cut strings, the bound children landing atop their bodies. I pushed Auko to the ground, drew my dagger, and spun. I slashed three of the men behind me across th
eir abdomens, deep enough to let their insides outside.
The other two panicked and tried to get out the secret passage, but Camina appeared in the door, a dagger in each hand, and stabbed them both in the neck before either could react.
I spun back to face the woman, who was now the only one standing. Well, except for Moon and Sham the Hushed, who towered over all of us like a thundercloud behind a horizon.
Moon remained implacable. “That went well.”
“So, you double-crossed me so you could triple-cross them?” I said as I pulled Auko to his feet.
He shrugged again.
“Would it be too much to ask why?”
“Oh, honey,” Camina said as she draped an arm over my shoulders. “We’ve been trying to get into this place for years, but that Coward’s Spell was just too strong. We get near it, and we get so scared, we pee our pants. You were exactly what we needed: a stranger who wouldn’t take no for an answer and who had a spell key. We tipped Miss Betty off so she’d trust us. Moon here even agreed to come with her as an act of good faith.”
I looked at Elizabeth Gozel, the architect of so much suffering. “What happens to her?”
Moon turned to Sham and nodded. The giant snapped her neck with one effortless twist. She joined the others in the pile of the dead. Kifer hunched down beside her body, trying to make himself small.
“She might’ve told you useful things,” I pointed out.
“She couldn’t tell me anything I don’t already know,” Moon said.
Camina stepped over the men she’d stabbed, knelt, and cut the bonds on the bound children and embraced them as they cried. She gave Kifer a pat on the head as well.
I looked up at Sham. “Thanks for helping me out earlier.”
Moon’s eyes widened slightly, and he turned to Sham. “You helped him out before we got here?”
Sham nodded, and there was a defiant look in his eye, as if daring Moon to question him.
“How did you get through the spell?”
Sham pointed between his legs, then spread his hands wide. Big balls, indeed.
“You could’ve blown this whole thing,” Moon said.