"Of late," Clyde said, "the problem has grown worse. Trevin—that's my brother-in-law—says with all that's happened, people must have either simply gotten lost in the shuffle or else just picked up and left, though I've no idea where they'd go. He told me fourteen people have been reported missing from the Slums just in the past week. All of 'em right off the streets."
Evan sat back in his chair while a serving girl took his plate away. He thanked her and received a smile in return.
"How does the guard know these people didn't just 'get lost in the shuffle,' as your brother-in-law put it? It sounds as if things have been hectic here."
"Lost for a week with no trace at all? No, something else is going on. Besides, that doesn't explain the people who went missing before the Chaos."
"True, true." Evan wasn't convinced, but neither was he ready to discount the reports just yet. "Maybe you've got a maniac on the loose. Or might be skeva. Sometimes they get a taste for people, you know. How long ago were the new sewers put in?"
"Oh, fifteen years ago or more."
Which gave the skeva plenty of time to settle in. There were other possibilities, though. "If it isn't a maniac or skeva, might be goblins."
Clyde shuddered. "I certainly hope not. How would they even get into the city?"
"Underground tunnels. You'd be surprised at how well and how far those buggers can dig. The ones snaking their way beneath the mountains out of Gugal... well, I've never seen or been in them, but I hear they stretch a fair distance."
"But surely not all the way here to Brighton?"
Evan shrugged. "I can guarantee you one thing. If there are goblins here, they didn't slip through aboveground. The Patrol has the Dormont watched too well for that. No way they made it through without one of us noticing. You've probably got a skeva problem, though it's unusual for them to take people right from their homes. They're usually not so brazen."
Clyde rapped his knuckles on the table. "Whatever we have, I just hope Trevin watches his back. I don't fear so much for him. He's a fair enough hand with the blade. But I worry about my sister, and what she'd do if something were to happen to him."
"Tell you what, Clyde," Evan said, standing. "King's Patrollers don't usually mix themselves up in city affairs, so there isn't a whole lot I can do in an official capacity. But there’s nothing saying I can't have a look around. I was heading into the Slums anyway, so mayhap if I run into Trevin while he's making his rounds, I can get his opinion on the situation. If you'll give me a hint as to his usual footpath, I'll see if I can track him down."
"Oh, thank you, sir. I'll make sure there's extra mutton on your plate this evening, and that your blankets are warmed before you retire."
Evan smiled at the offer. "I doubt I'll make it back in time for dinner, but I wouldn't complain of an extra slab of bacon in the morning."
"Of course! Of course! I will make certain of it."
Evan returned to his room to retrieve his sword and knife before he exited the inn. Outside, he took in a deep breath of city air before starting off for the Slums.
* * *
Nobu slid down next to Poth. The rooftop storage shed provided sufficient cover and shadows that no one noticed them. Poth sat with his back against the shed and his sword across his knees. Nobu settled into a similar position.
"The old one has found himself a place to rest his tired bones," Nobu said. "The ascent was hard on him. He'll go nowhere for a few hours."
Above them, the morning sky was gray. It suited them, and provided additional cover in which to hide as they followed the shaman.
Poth sniffed, then screwed up his face. "This place stinks of dog."
"I know. The mongrels are everywhere." Nobu scoffed. "Humans and their pets."
"Yes, but this is different. There is some new taint. It is dog, but also it is not. Do you not smell it?"
Nobu glanced sidelong at his companion. "I smell nothing but the fear seeping out of you. It grows so strong, I wonder if even the humans might detect it. Perhaps we should go ask one of them."
"Bah. I have no fear. I only make an observation. As to the other... You know as well as I what Rachna said. No hunting."
"What Rachna said was mere suggestion. With the old fool resting, we've time on our hands. How do you think Rachna would wish we spend it?"
"Rachna makes no suggestions. He gives orders. If you value your standing amongst the brethren, you would do well to heed them."
Nobu brooded for a few seconds. "Rachna should give better orders."
"Do you mean to challenge him then?"
Nobu considered the question. He didn't have to think on it for long. "No. But we are warriors. We should be hunting, not babysitting an old fool."
"Acharat may be old, but he's no fool. He knows we followed him."
"He does? You know this for sure?"
"Not for sure. But, during the ascent, he stopped at times and turned his head as if suspicious." Poth shrugged. "I merely speculate. But he has been our chieftain for many moons. He presided over my birth and yours as well. No fool could retain such power amongst our people for so long. This you cannot deny."
Nobu offered no argument, other than to say, "If you consider him so crafty, perhaps one of us should check on him. He may be slipping away this very moment."
"You checked on him last. Did he seem as if he slept?"
"As if he slept the sleep of the dead. Still, it does not hurt to make sure. We would not want to risk Rachna's ire by losing him. You go."
"Me? You are the one who is so uncertain."
"All the more reason why you should go to verify my observation."
Poth narrowed his gaze at Nobu. "You use this as an excuse to slip away yourself."
"Perhaps. With so much prey about, it is natural that a hunter wishes to hunt. I tire of the easy prey, too. I'm in the mood for something which will at least present a challenge. The city guards...they at least have weapons, though I doubt they know how to use them."
Poth stood, returning his sword to the sheath on his back. "I am not your keeper. Do what you will, Nobu. If you choose to disobey Rachna, then it is on you and you alone. I will check on the shaman, just so we are certain he has not duped us."
Poth said nothing else as he slipped away.
Nobu watched him go. Then he also stood. It was time to hunt.
* * *
Evan made sure his hand stayed near the hilt of his sword as he descended the steps at Old Wall into the Sunken Slums. Beggars sat at the foot of those stairs with hands raised and eyes turned downward. Evan had left most of his coin back in his room on purpose. Even still, he'd give none of it to these beggars. One flash of silver and he'd have a tail all the way through the Slums and a knife in the back if he forgot to keep his wits about him. Though he'd never lived in a place as destitute as this, Evan had spent enough time prowling city streets as a youngster to know the way of things. He swept past the beggars without a second look. Others in the streets cast sidelong glances his way. A hunched woman pushing a cart pretended to look at the sky. She took in Evan with the downward sweep of her gaze. Another, a man who leaned in a doorway and occupied himself with the daily writ, made a show of spitting. He never looked directly at Evan, but still the patroller saw the flick of his stare thrown his way. Evan made no effort to hide the golden eagle on his tunic. They'd know what it meant and that he was no easy mark. He just hoped no one was desperate enough to test him in a scrape. One of them was going to get hurt if they did.
From the steps, he walked straight down Ezra Street until he came to a circle where a fountain long gone dry served as a marker for him to steer left. Clyde had given him Trevin and his company's general route; Evan figured to follow it. With so few patrols in the Slums, the first company he spotted would likely belong to Clyde's brother-in-law. Across Friar's Bridge, and a ways down the main thoroughfare, his plan bore fruit as he approached the cemetery before Falcon's Bridge. A small troop of city guardsmen stood at the bridge's oth
er side. Halfway across, Evan hailed them.
"I'm looking for a man named Trevin. One of you him?"
He received the expected response from the lead man.
"Who wants to know?"
All of them wore breastplates over padded gambesons and had swords at their belts.
Evan introduced himself.
"Kingsley? Of the King's Patrol?" The man scrutinized Evan with a stare indicating he wasn't sure if Evan jested with him or not.
"Yes, that's right. I'm an associate of Clyde Mantock. I have a few questions for Trevin regarding the disappearances. Are you him?"
"No. But he is." He jammed a thumb at the guard to his left. "Tell the patroller what he wants to know and then catch up, Trevin. Don't fall too far behind or you may get disappeared yourself." It did not sound as if he joked.
The two settled onto the bridge with elbows propped on the rail and gazes cast downward at the meandering water of the Silvercross. A flatboat loaded down with lumber floated by beneath them.
"It's not just disappearances," Trevin said. "I didn't tell Clyde everything, 'cause it'd only get back to his sister and the last thing I need is... Well, you know how wives can be."
Evan did not know, but he said nothing, letting his silence serve as a prompt for him to continue.
"We found bodies," Trevin said, "or what was left of 'em. They'd been carved up." Trevin spit over the bridge. It missed the tail end of the flatboat by inches. "Lots of pieces missing, as if something had eaten them. Most horrible thing I've ever seen."
"Sounds horrible. Surely mangled bodies are enough evidence to prompt a response from your guard?"
"You'd think. We passed the word up about what we'd found. We've heard nothing back. If it was my decision, we'd turn the Slums inside out and find these damn vermin."
"You suspect skeva then?"
Trevin shrugged. "People always suspected we had some of those damn rats living beneath the city. With the sewers and all the underground nooks and crannies left behind by previous construction, they've plenty of places to hide. Probably been down there for years."
"Clyde said the disappearances started some months ago, though they've intensified in the past week."
"Yeah, the Chaos must have stirred them up. Before that?" He shrugged again.
"One last question. Let's walk so you do not fall too far behind your company."
Once they'd cleared the bridge, the patroller asked, "Is there a specific place in the city where most of the attacks have occurred?"
"You thinking of doing some tracking? I'd offer to tag along, but don't know if the sarge would let me."
"That's all right. Just point me in the right direction."
"Sure. Most of the disappearances have happened in Green Oaks. Green Oaks is at the other side of Ezra, close to Old Wall. We found most of the bodies nearby too. Oh, and don't get any ideas about poking around down in the sewers. Likely we'll never see you again. Or, if we do, it'll only be whatever's left."
"Point taken."
Evan thanked the man for his time and set out for Green Oaks without delay. He felt he was learning the layout of this part of the city a bit, and so he took side streets and alleys as needed as he found and crossed Ezra. With no demarcation to indicate he'd entered the neighborhood of Green Oaks, he stopped a passerby, who let him know he was close. He started a standard patrol right from his current location, walking up and down main avenues as he took in everything. The neighborhood's streets were mostly empty. Those residents he came across seemed in a hurry and not interested in speaking with him. A few ran back to their tenements and slammed their doors at his approach. He took his time as he made a complete survey of the area. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, except once, as he stared down an alley, he thought he saw a very large dog. Blacker than night and bigger than anything he'd ever seen before, the beast had its back to Evan as it rummaged through some trash. Given its size, Evan thought it best to just leave it alone. When he came around the alley's other side, the dog had vanished, and he thought nothing else of it.
In all, it took over an hour, but he felt he'd identified the most likely places for an ambush to have occurred. He narrowed his attention on those places, looking for possible entry points into the city. There were so many manholes and gutter drains, though, Evan didn't think he was ever going to pinpoint a small enough number to monitor with any sort of effectiveness. Realizing he needed to rethink his strategy, he stopped in the middle of an alley. High apartments on both sides kept its length heavy with darkness. Crossing his arms, he kicked at some trash and considered his next move. Above him, laundry hanging from lines flapped in the wind. Almost too late, Evan realized there was no wind. Then, looking up, he saw the dark form hurtling down at him.
It hit him in the chest, driving him to the ground and forcing the air from his lungs. Through a field of stars, Evan saw his attacker leap away, somersaulting through the air to land somewhere behind him. Right away he heard steel sliding free. Evan rolled away right before his assailant's sword swiped at his throat. Fighting to recover his breath, the patroller half-rose and, leaping, went straight into a pair of trash cans. He at least managed to split their difference, knocking them aside as he spun about. His attacker was right there, sword poised and whiskers twitching beneath a pair of black eyes. Evan sidestepped one swipe of the skeva's sword, then somehow managed to draw his hunting knife and turn the next strike away. In the next instant his sword was out and, finally, Evan thought the fight fair.
The skeva wasted no time showing him his error in judgment as its sword became a whirlwind of steel. It had just the one weapon, but it weaved the thin, short blade with the precision of an artist. Evan turned one strike, narrowly dodged another, and nearly missed blocking the third. The rat moved so fast, he'd no chance to counter. Just keeping ahead of the other was challenge enough. Evan knew if he didn't do something very soon, the skeva was going to skewer him. He tried to back away, to give himself a moment to turn the rhythm of the fight, but almost immediately his back was against the alley wall and he found himself even worse off than before. The skeva jabbed, and Evan was sure he was about to die. Desperate, he somehow forced the blade aside with his sword, turned sideways, and closed the sparse distance separating them. He had a momentary glimpse of those black eyes and twitching nose before he smashed his elbow into the skeva's face. The blow sent the rat stumbling back. Evan pressed his advantage, hitting the skeva with everything he had. But every attack he leveled at the creature was negated until, in mere seconds, his advantage disappeared. This time, the skeva spun around and, before Evan had any idea what the creature was doing, leveled a kick at the patroller's midsection which lifted him from the ground and sent him to his back again. Then the skeva stood over him, its sword poised to finish him off.
Its downward momentum was halted when a crossbow bolt slammed into the rat's chest. The creature fell twisting to the ground, where it died still clutching its sword.
Evan rose to his knees just as a host of city guardsmen came running into the alley. All had swords drawn, except for two armed with crossbows. The crossbowman who'd spent his missile was none other than Trevin. The other, whose weapon remained loaded and ready, pointed it at the fallen skeva. With no signs of movement, it seemed the creature was indeed dead. One of the swordsmen stuck his blade into it anyway, just to be sure. The sergeant extended a hand and helped the patroller up. Evan hadn't realized how winded he'd gotten as he tried to even his breathing and still his rapidly beating heart.
"Looks like you found one of 'em," Trevin said as he toed the body with a boot.
"More like," Evan said between breaths, "it found me." He wiped sweat from his brow, and shifted uncomfortably as a chill from the sweat on his back went through him. "Damn thing was fast. Faster than anything I've seen before. And its skill with a sword..." Evan shook his head. He'd never seen anything like that before either.
One of the men searched the body. "Nothing but weapons. Couple of kni
ves and... What are these? Jacks?"
He passed a handful of small metal objects to his sergeant.
"Caltrops, or something like them."
"And...throwing stars?"
The guardsman held them up so all could see.
"It's an assassin," Trevin said.
"Was an assassin," the sergeant said.
Grunts of agreement sounded.
Evan returned his sword and knife to their sheaths at his belt. "Whatever its profession, there's no doubt as to its race. You, gentlemen, have a skeva problem. A very big one, if this one is any indication. I'd always thought them beasts. But beasts do not wield swords like that. If there are others beneath the city like this fellow, you're going to need some help."
"Is that an offer for assistance I'm hearing?" the sergeant asked.
Evan nodded. "I'll issue a Call. There should be at least one or two patrollers in the area who'll respond right away. But it'll take some weeks for word to travel as far as the Halls."
"You think it's that bad we need Hall assistance?" Trevin asked.
Evan nodded again. "You didn't see this one in action. He nearly had me more than a couple of times. I may not be the best swordsman, but I'm pretty good. I know when I'm outmatched too. No offense, but this one would've carved any one of you into pieces."
No one argued his point. Patrollers were trained as guerilla fighters, forged into experts with sword and knife out of necessity in a process spanning years. City guardsmen were often issued armor and weapons right before a swift kick sent them out the door and onto the streets.
"Even then," Evan said, "it'll be a matter of politics when it comes to having a strong patroller presence inside the city walls. No doubt it'll take some convincing."
Murmured assents greeted his words.
"We'll take this one with us back to the station," the sergeant said. "It'll give our captain the proof he needs to run it up the chain-of-command with more urgency than before." He directed his attention at one of his men. "Go scrounge us up a cart or something. I'll not ask any man to carry this thing over his shoulder. I know I sure as hell ain't doing it. Hold up, soldier. Mekel, you go with him. From this point forward, no one walks the streets alone."
The Nullification Engine (The Alchemancer: Book Two) Page 17