“Can’t say that I do. Must be an acquired skill.”
“Since I’ve shared, how are you feeling about the robbery? I suppose apprehensive might be a good description.”
Zalla sighed and scratched her nape. “I won’t lie, I’m a little petrified.”
“I should hope you are. Means you’ll stay sharp and ever wary for obstacles. You start thinking yourself untouchable and you’ll never see trouble coming. Not ‘til it’s killed you. I’ve watched it happen to thieves who made the mistake of getting cocky. A tragic thing, is conceit. I’d rather wear it on the surface than have it deep inside.”
“I’m just glad I won’t be expected to do all that insane stuff you and Maylene volunteered for. I’ll be happy strolling the grounds with Baskaran for a date.”
“She and I are content taking on the heavy lifting. It is our forte, after all. Besides, there’ll be abundant dangers, and it’s wise having the veterans in the thick of it. Watching Baskaran and giving him instructions will be plenty helpful.”
“I’ll also need to sample all the food.”
“A task of vital importance, I should think.”
“I hear the wine is equally impressive—”
A strangled cry escaped Zalla as a figure struck from behind, hurling her face first against unforgiving cobblestones. Cyriana whirled and felt the bitter sting from knuckles lashing into her cheek. She fell to one knee, upraising both arms to fend off raining strikes. Cyriana wrenched a dagger from one boot and agony lanced through the arm when a heel crunched into her wrist, flinging the blade aside. Glowing lamplight overhead illumined Arora through descending fists, her spiteful face twisted into loathing. Destiran’s unrelenting bounty hunter no longer seemed eager to capture living prey.
“—kill you this time!” the woman howled.
Cyriana sighted Raesh beyond as Arora’s fist slipped through warding hands and walloped into her face. Zalla scrambled off the road and pitched herself onto Raesh, scratching at his eyes and wrapping one arm around a broad throat.
“Get away from her, you bastards!” hollered Zalla.
Bloody spatters wept from Zalla’s torn face, staining her teeth with each fevered scream. Raesh’s startled yell diverted his vile compatriot for a fleeting moment. Cyriana barreled into Arora and upended the cursing woman, crashing atop her sternum. She hammered one fist into a misshapen jaw before Arora’s knee cracked against her back and sent Cyriana sprawling.
Raesh grasped Zalla’s wrist and whirled her around, smacking the girl into rutted stones. She voiced a choked whimper and cradled her stomach with both hands, shriveling into a pained fetal position. Raesh muttered vindictive expletives and lifted one boot to hammer against her skull. Terror blossomed on Zalla’s tear-streaked face.
Wobbles shook his balance and Raesh toppled without noise, revealing a dagger hilt buried in his neck. Zalla struggled to clamber backward, unable to remove her stare from the twitching corpse.
Arora unleashed a bloodcurdling wail and faced Cyriana. A blade fell from her sleeve into one outstretched hand and Arora lunged low, shrieking like an insane spirit. Cyriana retrieved her dagger from between two cobbles and leapt for a downward thrust. Scalding iron slid through the flesh and muscle of her own stomach as she buried a knife into Arora’s neck. Blood squeezed between gritted teeth and Cyriana felt tears streaming down her cheeks. She shoved her dagger deeper into the other woman’s throat, twisting it through a resisting jugular.
“You die first,” Cyriana croaked.
Arora spluttered a breathless cough amid belching blood until life receded from her eyes. She tumbled backward, ripping the blade from Cyriana’s gut. Agonizing heat flooded her stomach as though a torch had seared the flesh. Vertigo assailed Cyriana and blackened spots sprinkled her vision, leaving only a foggy tunnel.
Zalla sniffled and wiped beneath one eye, climbing to her feet. A serene man strolled from the shadows into light afforded by a lamp. He bent to pluck the knife lodged in Raesh, produced a handkerchief and wiped iron clean.
“Noose, I presume.” Cyriana winced and struggled to remain upright grasping her wet ribcage. “Took your sweet time, bastard.”
He dusted one sleeve and straightened. “I did not wish to alert them in time to adopt defensive measures, and was briefed on your resourcefulness. You had the situation well in hand, I see.”
Pooling warmth bubbled between Cyriana’s fingers and splattered against one tarnished boot. “Maybe…not this time.”
Drooping eyelids veiled a world losing its colors and fading to gray. Her blurring pupils sighted Zalla, saw the fear and horror written on the girl’s face, before she crumpled.
“Cyriana?” Zalla skidded onto her knees and touched frantic hands onto a gurgling stomach perforation. “Can you hear me?”
“Your friend might be beyond our ministrations,” Noose declared.
“Shut up and help me staunch her wound.”
“Alas, she may be right, child.”
“Damn it, do something!” Zalla screeched. “I won’t let her die.”
A clammy hand touched Cyriana’s cheek and distant voices lingered in the air, quieting to a gentle hum. Did the girl not understand she only wanted to drift into a dreamless sleep? To forget the anguish even now quelling in her stomach and find the solace that has forever eluded her? Regardless of intentions, a life like hers cannot last long. Choices breed unwanted consequences eventually proving to be inescapable, and that truth was made plain today.
What now for vengeance? Was it delivered swift and true if Destiran never learned of the end that befell Cyriana and her killers both? Questions best left to the living, she believed. Those stubborn, unyielding fools who refused to let her pass. The dead felt no need for introspection.
A chilling wind caressed Cyriana’s skin, complementing the frigid ice blooming within her torso. She welcomed the numbing absence of misery and decided this final embrace was not such a terrible thing to witness after all.
*
A weakened moan drew Chaereas’ attention away from cleaning tools to his henceforth unresponsive guest. He settled a scalpel down alongside one sullied cloth and walked toward the man as confused brown eyes perceived his approach. Stretched across a tarnished table, the youth sought to jerk his limbs, only to notice leather bindings looped around wrists and ankles. Brief panic flitted across his bruised face and mumbles escaped through a gagged mouth.
“Hello child,” Chaereas said. “I’m pleased to see you’re cognizant. Ah, perhaps I should limit my vocabulary for the moment, given your station. It’s good to see you awake. I worried the damage to your head might be excessive. Guards and soldiers possess many likeable traits one in my position can utilize. Loyalty and obstinate willpower, for example. But their single greatest drawback is a surplus of…shall we say, enthusiasm. You were considerably battered when I took possession of you. Soldiers don’t tolerate thieves and criminals. I worried what damage might have been done while in their care. A relief therefore that I glimpse understanding in your bemused eyes. You do understand my words, yes?”
The Shiylan lad answered with a weak nod.
“Wonderful. No unnecessary head trauma then. My name is Chaereas, formerly from the city-state of Thurii. Right now you’re likely wondering what my plans for you entail. Allow me to elucidate your situation. I am a galen within Starwatch, and that position comes with rigid, unforgiving restrictions. Though we purport to gather knowledge in all its forms, some means for achieving that sacred objective are forbidden. You might think the belief is a contradiction as I do, but there are many who disagree and enforce regulations with a singular intensity. I find this atmosphere suffocating, yet even I don’t have the clout to change their minds on my lonesome. Perhaps if I can bring to their attention irrefutable proof of the benefits from my way of thinking, they might reconsider.
“And that is where you come in. For many months I’ve conducted studies and observations on corpses brought to me. As an uneducated, presumably illiterat
e man, you might not know this, but our knowledge regarding the human body is pitiful. Starwatch has stood for nine centuries and yet we’ve learned scant little about our own species in all this time. We are a mystery to ourselves and I’ve long desired to remedy that flaw.
“I don’t wish to bore you with specifics, so suffice it to say my passion for this pursuit waned in recent weeks. Despite encouraging strides of late, my heart wasn’t in it. We all face our moments of crippling doubt at one time or another. Until I ruminated on a friend’s insightful words. Fortunate for posterity then that my zeal was rekindled. And I cannot neglect the potential knowledge to be gleaned from dissecting a living body. My boy, you are what my colleagues despairingly call vivisection. A practice that has been unflinchingly illegal since ancient heroes walked these lands wielding mythical weapons forged by the gods.” Chaereas touched a finger to the lad’s chest. “Imagine what secrets are locked within you, waiting to be revealed to an inquisitive mind willing to forego any trace of morality standing in his path.”
A whimper choked from the boy’s stuffed mouth and Chaereas shushed him. “Such truths aren’t possible with a cadaver, I’m afraid. But don’t feel glum. Your sacrifices will likely help untold thousands in the future. Small consolation at the moment admittedly, but it shall have to be sufficient. Aren’t you intrigued at the prospect of mitigating poorly understood conditions years hence?”
Chaereas patted the lad’s shoulder and continued his circuit. “You don’t need to answer that. Hard to gaze past our own selfish wants and appreciate the benefits we may never know firsthand, yes? I well understand your frame of mind, despite our inherent differences. How unfair it must seem that you should die at such a young age to aid strangers whose names you will never know. And alas, even your own won’t be recorded for future generations. Mine will, of course. Those who are saved will need a name to praise, a face chiseled in stone to prostrate before. A fitting tribute in culmination of my noble crusade against antiquated guidelines held by my regrettably conservative colleagues. Plus a welcome, and dare I say complimentary, reappraisal of my heretofore heretical ideas. I think I rather like the prospect. Strange how the fame and recognition seemed so distasteful to me only a short time ago. Perspective is ever a changing notion.”
He gathered satchels and placed the tools atop an adjacent surface. Glancing down at weathered hands, Chaereas noticed his unmoving fingers. He was not stricken by nerves or uncertainty during this pivotal time. Still further reason to believe he followed the right path. “In a moment I shall remove your suffocating gag, presenting you with a choice. If you wish to hold civil discourse, I will welcome it. However, if in a querulous fit you elect to wail and scream, you’ll leave me with no alternative but to return the soppy cloth to your mouth. In that event, you won’t have the opportunity to speak more than whatever muffled squeaks you can force past chewed fabric.” He furrowed his brow and rested one palm on the cool table. “Will you insist on making a racket?”
A nervous headshake served as the only response.
“Delightful. Perhaps you can share your own insights as I undertake my tasks. Provided you don’t lapse into the frustrations of a cynic. I’ll need honest opinions for the sake of authenticity. Don’t withhold your feelings out of spite.”
Chaereas ungagged his slimy mouth and cast the cloth onto damp stone flooring. “There, isn’t that better? No reason why I shouldn’t permit some measure of dignity for the subject. May I ask your name?”
“Desin.”
“A pleasure to meet you, my boy.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Have you not been listening? I should think it quite obvious why I choose to do this. To expand our understanding of the human mind and body. To discern truths where only mysteries have flourished.”
“No,” he moaned. “Why me?”
Chaereas waved a hand and shrugged. “Ah, yes. I suppose that would tax a person’s mind. This has nothing to do with you specifically. An arrangement was made with a local gaoler ostensibly on the Empire’s payroll. He might not share my zeal for knowledge, but he does enjoy coins. You are the most recent acquisition in our arrangement, though hopefully not the last. I do so hate to kick a fellow when he’s down, but had you not chosen the life of a criminal you wouldn’t be here. I’m not in the habit of plucking ordinary, peaceable citizens from the streets.”
“I’m only a thief. I didn’t murder no one. They would’ve released me after a spell.”
“This is true.” Chaereas pursed dry lips and tapped his chin with one forefinger. “Perhaps the selection could have been more discerning. A rapist poised for the gallows, as an example. Ultimately I only accepted what was given to me and had no choice in the matter. That may seem as though I’m dodging responsibility. I could have made stipulations and requests from the outset. Naturally I cannot return you and run the risk of my nightly hobbies becoming public. I will make a note for future experimentation and see this doesn’t happen again. Be content knowing from now on I’ll only conduct research on heinous degenerates. Thank you for this valuable input.”
“Please, you don’t need to do this.”
“But I do. The weight of discovery perches on my shoulders.”
“You ain’t no better than a murderer.” Desin evidently sought to make the words a piercing, disdainful challenge, but his voice was instead a ragged, exhausted thing.
“It may seem that way to you, but I perform with the best intentions. If I must stain my hands for the common good, so be it. I won’t voice complaint. I might need to struggle against those who abhor my actions and seek to discredit me. The detractors will be tireless and many, I fear. However, I have every confidence history will validate all I do.” Chaereas placed a calming hand atop the young man’s shoulder. “Perhaps I’ll record your name alongside my own so future generations will know of your martyrdom. How would you like your memory to live forever?”
“I’d rather keep on living now.”
“Not an unexpected response admittedly. Though it’s high time you recognize the favor I’m doing for you. Based on your deplorable life choices, in another few short years you’d be dead. A theft turned murderous or hanging from the gallows, it doesn’t matter. You’ll die forgotten and unmourned. I offer you immortality. A nobler fate than you could ever manage alone.”
Chaereas rolled a drooping sleeve and fetched one scalpel with a deflating sigh. “Alas, it isn’t my concern whether or not you appreciate this gesture.”
“You’re insane.”
“It may seem that way to a less enlightened mind. The brilliant are always shunned by their intellectual inferiors. You cannot imagine what childhood for a prodigy such as myself was like until I came to Starwatch. Perhaps one day savants will be nurtured rather than preyed upon. Given your deficiencies, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn you terrified smaller children to compensate for mental shortcomings you were incapable of solving. I’ve seen your kind before. At least now you’ll contribute to society far beyond what you could otherwise achieve.”
“Wait!”
Chaereas groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, halting the scalpel atop bare flesh. “My endeavors will take entirely too long if you continue in this manner. It only lengthens your own suffering, I’m afraid.”
“Let me go and I can get you more bodies. You can cut them all open and poke whatever you like.”
“Have you not been paying attention? I already have an arrangement proving lucrative. You’re merely the first of many living subjects.”
“You’ll want them all,” Desin pleaded. “More than me.”
He waggled the blade toward his temple. “I hardly think you’re qualified to pass judgment on my thought process.”
“They’re trying to break into your tower.”
“These failed intrusions are becoming an annoyance,” Chaereas groaned. “I’ll trust in the expertise of our guards as I always have.”
“They’ll be the first to
do it. I swear. Master burglars, these ones.”
“And how does a third rate cutpurse come to know such matchless felons? Rub elbows in the same seedy taverns?”
“They hired me for the job.”
“If you’re indicative of their talents I don’t find myself unduly concerned. For a man staring death in the eye, you would’ve been wise to fabricate a more believable falsehood. Yours reeks of desperation.”
“I was only the pickpocket. The others are way better than me.” He struggled ineffectually against his bindings. “You have to believe me.”
“Oh, I believe a foolish group will once again try to assail Starwatch. I don’t believe your claims they’ll succeed, however.” Chaereas twirled his scalpel and hummed to himself for a moment. “If only to sate my curiosity, when are your geniuses seeking to steal from us?”
“A festival for your sun god. Happening soon, right?”
Chaereas withdrew a pace and pondered the ramifications. Operating amid the Eclipsing Radiance Fete offered tangible benefits and at least precluded the usual idiocy brigands employed. “More clever than the typical bandits. I’ll give them that.”
“You’ll let me go then?”
“What possesses you to jump to such a conclusion?”
“I can help you find them all.”
“Pray tell, what are your compatriots seeking to steal?”
“I don’t know.”
“Now really,” Chaereas grumbled. “You’ll need to try harder than that if you expect to bargain with me for your life.”
“They told me, but I can’t remember. The name was in some other language I’d never heard in my life. But I know it’s in the top library. Something old. Thousands of years, they claimed.”
“Are you toying with me, child? Most artifacts in Starwatch’s possession date back centuries or millennia. Did you really think that admission would narrow it down?”
“It was a scroll of some kind.”
“Delightful, now we’re getting somewhere. We barely have any scrolls in the collection.”
“What if I’m right?” Desin demanded. “What if they steal some pricey paper and you’re stuck only with me when you could have had others?”
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