Weapon of Pain (Weapon of Flesh Series Book 5)

by Chris A. Jackson

  “All right, Hoseph.” Lakshmi’s nut brown features wrinkled in a frown. She waved away her secretary and put aside the lap desk, then swiveled and stood in a graceful motion that rippled the folds of her sari and belied her years. “It’s time to get a few things straight. You have only yourself to blame for this fiasco, as you call it. You are not an assassin, so when it comes to killing, please allow professionals to decide how, where, and when. Twist’s attack on Mya was rushed and ill timed. Had he consulted with Kittal and myself, I have no doubt that Mya would now be quite dead.”

  Hoseph couldn’t believe his ears. She’s blaming Umberlin’s failure on me? “I didn’t decide anything. Umberlin planned the attack. All I did was give him her address.”

  “No, you dangled the guildmaster’s ring in front of him as a prize!” Her wizened lips pressed together in a wrinkled line. “You set this up like some kind of competition; bring in Mya’s head and win the guildmaster’s seat! That’s not the way we work, Hoseph! If you’d bothered to notice, our factions are specialized. Each has its strengths and weaknesses. We work as a team.”

  “Kittal knew about the pending attack. Umberlin said he sent one of his Alchemists to help.”

  “Twist didn’t consult Kittal or me! He just asked to borrow a senior Alchemist. Kittal complied because we always help one another!” Lakshmi threw up her hands, the tiny jewels on her elegantly manicured nails glinting in the lamplight. “Twist was a damn fine Hunter—he could track a flea through a crowd of beggars—but he didn’t have the talent to be guildmaster. He didn’t see the big picture. He knew that winning the ring from you would be the only way he’d ever get it!”

  Hoseph sneered. “And you, I take it, do see the big picture?”

  The Master Inquisitor smiled, a haunting expression on her inscrutable features. “Yes, I do. And the picture right now demands cooperation. In fact, Kittal and I are working together to exploit another opportunity.”

  “To kill Mya? What is it?”

  Lakshmi rolled her eyes dramatically. “Of course to kill Mya. But it’s an extremely sensitive operation, so the fewer who know about it, the better. I’ll let you know how it works out.”

  “With all your talk of cooperation, I assume you’ve consulted Master Hunter Embree.” Hoseph was sure he could get the neophyte master to tell him what was going on.

  “Yes, of course. Now, about your request. In the interest of cooperation, I’ll assign three of my Inquisitors to look into this Sergeant Benjamin. Trust me, we’ll find something to exploit—everyone has their weaknesses—but they’ll be reporting to me, not you.”

  Hoseph opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. He had gotten what he wanted, which was someone to look into turning the constable to their side. Let her think she won. “As you wish.”

  “Excellent.” Lakshmi waved her hand at her secretary. “Joshi, have Noesha pick three Inquisitors who are well acquainted with the constabulary.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” The secretary put aside her papers and hurried out.

  Hoseph withdrew a small silver chime from a pocket of his robe. “And in the interest of cooperation, I’d like to give you this. Chime it at need and I’ll come, but only if it’s important. Demia’s gifts are not to be used triflingly.”

  The Master Inquisitor took the chime, looked it over curiously before placing it gently on the small table beside the divan. “Very well.”

  “One other small matter,” Hoseph said with a casual gesture. “You’ve had plenty of time to get the Tessifus boys resettled. I need to know where they are.”

  “Don’t worry. They’re well-hidden and well-protected. I have my most loyal people watching over them.”

  “Good, but your people can’t whisk them away magically if danger threatens. I can.” Hoseph was sick of being stonewalled. “Tell me where they are.”

  “No.” Lakshmi sashayed over to an ornate table that held a silver blackbrew service and four narrow glass cups with silver bases.

  “What?”

  “I said, no.” She poured liquid as black as tar from the silver pot into a cup. “Surely you’re familiar with the word.”

  He ignored her sarcasm. “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because I don’t wish to end up like Twist Umberlin.” The Inquisitor spooned an inordinate amount of sugar into her blackbrew and stirred it. “I’m the only one who knows where they all are, and I’ve given orders that if I die, they die.” She lifted the cup and turned to him, sipping daintily. “Then you have nothing.”

  What is it that makes Inquisitors so difficult? First Lady T, now Lakshmi. How he longed to reach out and send her soul to Demia, but he resisted the temptation. She was right; without Duke Tessifus’ sons, he had no hold over the man who would be emperor.

  Reining in his temper, Hoseph asked quietly, “Why must you contest my authority on every matter?”

  “Hoseph,” Lakshmi held up a forestalling hand, “I’m not contesting your authority, because you have no authority here. That said, you are a valuable asset to the guild, and one day will be a valuable asset to our future Grandmaster.”

  Hoseph fumed, but kept his expression neutral. “And how is our young future Grandmaster progressing?”

  “Patience, Hoseph, patience.” Lakshmi sipped the syrupy brew again, obviously savoring both the stimulating beverage and her control over Hoseph. “It’s only been a few weeks. We have years before he’ll need to assume the throne. We’ve earned his trust, and are now slowly turning him against his father and brothers. In time, we will train him in the techniques of inquisition. These things can’t be rushed.”

  “He needs to become accustomed to me,” Hoseph insisted. “I’ll be his right hand, so he needs to know and trust me.”

  Lakshmi smiled. “In time.”

  Hoseph decided it was time to leave, before he did something rash. He smiled grimly at the Master Inquisitor as he flicked the silver skull into his hand. “Kill Mya and see to the safety of the Tessifus boys. If you fail, it’s not me you’ll have to answer to, but Demia.”

  Whispering the invocation, Hoseph dissolved into mist. The look of unease on Lakshmi’s smug features was worth the pain he would endure.

  Crack!

  What in the Nine Hells? Mya froze halfway up the stairs to the flat. The trip back in the carriage already had her nerves singing like violin strings. The unfamiliar sound from the flat snapped her senses to a fever pitch. First checking the street below, she moved as quietly as her uncomfortable shoes would allow to the top of the stairs. Outside the apartment door, she rummaged through her tiny purse so any passersby who happened to see her would think she was searching for her key. In fact, she was listening.

  Crack-thud.

  The crack might be a whip or a slap of a palm against flesh, but the accompanying thud… Almost like… Mya stiffened with a remembrance: the crack of a crossbow and the sickening thud of the bolt plunging into the flesh of her leg. Dee?

  Mya eased her key out of her handbag and slipped it silently into the lock. With a single motion, she turned the key, thrust open the door open, lunged into the apartment…and stopped. “Oh, for the gods’ sake!”

  Dee stood on one side of the living room, a startled look on his face and an odd little crossbow in one hand, aimed directly at her chest.

  His startlement eased and the weapon lowered. “Oh, it’s only you.”

  “Yes, it’s only me. I thought you were being attacked in here.” Mya closed the door, threw the bolt, and took off her hat, tossing it onto the divan. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m practicing.” Dee aimed and squeezed the trigger of his tiny weapon. Crack-thud! The short, black dart shot across the room to stick alongside several others in a blanket bound around the back of a kitchen chair.

  “From Noncey?” she asked, peeling out of her gloves.

  “Yes.” He reached into his coat—long and full, one that Mya had never seen before—and drew out an odd device with a handle and tw
o triggers. He squeezed one trigger and the small bow flipped out crossways, already cocked and loaded, tensioned by some type of spring mechanism. Now it looked just like the other crossbow. He aimed and squeezed the second trigger, sending another bolt thudding into the blanket.

  Placing one of the little weapons on the kitchen table, Dee cocked and reloaded the other, then folded the spring-loaded bow back in line with the handle. Thus prepared, it nestled easily into a specialized holster inside his coat. He reloaded and stowed the second weapon.

  “Ingenious.” Mya contorted her arms behind her back to loosen the laces of her dress, but couldn’t quite manage the knot. “You’d have to hit something vital with one of those to stop someone, though.”

  “He gave me a couple vials of poison as well. One’s an anesthetic, the other’s deadly.” Dee drew and fired again. The bolt struck just slightly off center. “I’m not very fast yet, but I’m not missing the target by much.”

  “With poison you don’t have to be as accurate.” Mya struggled with the knot, annoyed that Dee didn’t offer to assist with her gown. He was usually more attentive. “Can you help me with this thing? Your knots are impossible.”

  “Sure.” Dee took the time to reload and holster the crossbow before stepping behind her.

  Mya breathed a sigh of relief as the laces loosened. Before she could thank him, Dee strode to the chair, plucked the darts from the target, and tucked them into slots sewn into the lining of his coat. Tugging the jacket straight, he walked back to his firing position, drew, and fired. The tiny bolt popped into the target, dead center.

  “That’s pretty good for only a few hours of practice.”

  “Thanks.” He drew the other crossbow and fired left handed. The bolt hit the target on the edge. “I’m not so good with the left, yet. Noncey said to learn to shoot before I work on speed. It’s nothing like firing a regular crossbow.”

  Mya shrugged the dress off her shoulders and tugged the sleeves free, then stepped out of the garment. “Practice will get you there. How fast can you reload?”

  “Faster than a regular crossbow, but with poisoned bolts I’ll have to be more careful.”

  Mya unlaced her shoes and kicked them off, then stretched, stiff from hours in the restrictive clothing. Dee seemed to be ignoring her, though he could just be preoccupied with his new weapons as he reloaded, drew, and fired, time and again.

  As Dee reloaded once more, he broke his silence. “Mya, about this morning…the kiss…I didn’t—”

  “Oh, that?” Is that what’s bugging him? Is he afraid I’ll be mad? Waving a dismissive hand, she said, “Don’t worry about it. Quick thinking, actually, playing the loving husband in front of Mistress Gantry. I didn’t even know she was watching us. Now, are you going to ask me how my talk with the emperor went or not?”

  “How did your talk with the emperor go?” he asked obediently.

  “He offered me—well, Moirin, actually—a job as his bodyguard.” She twisted her stiff back sharply, eliciting a sharp crunch.

  He gaped at her. “He did?”

  “Yep. I turned him down, of course, but then he offered me another job.”

  “What job?” Dee turned back to his target, drew, and fired first one crossbow, then the other, in quick succession. Both bolts hit the target not far from center.

  “He wants me to rescue some kidnapped kids. Duke Tessifus is next in line for the throne, and Hoseph had his three sons taken. I see his plan now: kill the emperor, then control the next one through his sons.”

  “That sounds about right. Can you?”

  “Get them back?” She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. There’s also the question of whether Clemson and Noncey knew about this plan and, if they did, why they didn’t tell me.”

  Crack-thud. Crack-thud.

  “Maybe they defected before learning about it.”

  “Maybe. I’m certainly going to find out. But look at this!” Mya pulled the document signed by the emperor out of her tiny handbag and flourished it. “The emperor gave me free rein to do the job as I think best, and immunity from prosecution if I have to kill to do it, including killing Hoseph!”

  “Really?” Dee turned to face her, eyes wide.

  “Really. I’m going to go see Clemson and Noncey to see what kind of plan we can work out.”

  “Shall I come with you?”

  “No, I can move faster on my own.” Mya also didn’t want Dee in the line of fire if the two masters didn’t have the right answers to her questions, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. There was no need to have him worry about her, which he seemed to be doing a lot lately.

  He turned back to his target without a word, drew and fired both of the weapons at the same time. Crack! Crack! The darts thumped into the blanket dead center.

  “Hey, two bull’s eyes. You’re getting good!” Mya strode into the bedroom, tossed her dress onto the bed, and donned her comfortable clothing and weapons to the steady cadence of Dee’s target practice. He seemed unduly quiet, probably worried about her again. Well, she couldn’t do anything about that. Peeking out from behind the drawn shade, she saw that dusk was already fading to night. Perfect.

  “I don’t know what time I’ll be back,” she said as she strode back out into the front room.

  Dee didn’t respond, painstakingly reloading and cocking his curious little crossbows.

  Yep, he’s worried…

  Going to the front door, she listened carefully, but heard no one on the stairs.

  Crack! Crack!

  “Don’t wait up for me,” she said, turning the bolt and easing open the door.

  “I won’t.”

  She glanced back, but Dee’s attention was on his target practice, so she ducked out.

  Mya made her way down to the river, skulking through dark alleys and occasionally flitting across rooftops when constables crossed her path. Crossing the river and striding through the shabby streets of the Dreggars Quarter, her mood vacillated wildly.

  If I rescue the duke’s sons… Her mind whirled with ways to take advantage of the emperor’s good will, then her stomach fluttered anxiously as she considered Clemson and Noncey. Were they betraying her, or simply ignorant of Hoseph’s plan? There was only one way to find out.

  Mya scrambled over the wall of the dark distillery and dropped lightly into the courtyard. She tensed as she approached the main structure. Two Enforcers stood at the door, crossbows trained on her as she advanced. Of course, they couldn’t shoot her, but having weapons pointed at her still made her nervous. They lowered their crossbows as they recognized her.

  “Are they both here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good.”

  One of them opened the door for her and closed it behind.

  Mya easily picked her way around the huge stone vats and distillation equipment in the darkness. Listening, she heard nothing but the burble of the fermenting vats and the scratch of a rat somewhere among the machinery. The door to the stairs wasn’t locked or guarded, so she opened it and started down.

  The Enforcer at the bottom of the stairs whipped up his crossbow when he noticed her, then slowly lowered it as she descended into the light of the wall sconce behind him. “Grandmaster.” He nodded respectfully, then looked pointedly at the door to Clemson’s office. “I’d recommend knocking.”

  “I will.”

  At the end of the hall, Mya knocked, but opened the door to the Master Enforcer’s office before anyone answered. Clemson and Noncey were alone, sitting close together on the leather-upholstered divan, sipping golden liquid from crystal tumblers, and thankfully not intimately engaged. She briefly admired the tableau—like a pair of leopards, perfectly matched, beautiful and deadly—then stepped casually into the room and shut the door.

  “Grandmaster.” They started to rise.

  “Relax.” Mya waved them down, sauntering over to sit in one of the comfortable chairs across from them. “Sorry about dropping in unannounced, but…something’s
come up.”

  “Something?” Noncey raised one eyebrow before knocking back the rest of his drink and standing.

  “What kind of something?” Clemson handed over her glass.

  Noncey took it and strode to the sideboard and refilled them. The Master Blade raised a third empty tumbler at Mya with another arched eyebrow.

  “Please.”

  He poured a measure and returned, handing glasses to Mya and Clemson before he sat down once again.

  “So…” Mya sipped, the smooth liquor burning a sweet course down her throat. “This something involves three boys that the guild abducted, the sons of Duke Tessifus. Did either of you know about that?” She watched their responses closely.

  Noncey nodded without any sign of unease. “Yes, we knew. My Blades and Twist’s Hunters abducted the boys under Lady T’s orders. We delivered them to Lakshmi.”

  “Did you know Hoseph was behind the abduction?”

  Noncey looked surprised then, and exchanged a glance with Clemson. “No, Grandmaster, I did not know that.” He still didn’t look worried.

  “Do you know why they were taken?”

  “No idea. Once we delivered them to Lakshmi, it was out of my hands,” Noncey said. “Lady T didn’t volunteer any additional information, and I didn’t ask. I followed my orders.”

  “So…” Mya swirled her drink and breathed deep of the spicy fragrance, then sipped the smooth rum, “…why didn’t you tell me?”

  The two masters exchanged another glance, then looked back to her.

  Clemson spread her hands. “It wasn’t my operation.”

  Noncey shrugged. "And my end of it was done before Lady T was murdered. It didn’t seem relevant to the current situation. What do three boys have to do with our guild war?”

  Mya scrutinized the two masters, trying to guess what they were thinking beneath their placid façades. Lad, where are you when I need you? That man could read people like a book, picking up on seemingly trivial details—a slight catch of breath, a shift of posture, the unconscious flick of a finger—that signified feelings and intentions. Mya was not so apt, but the masters seemed guileless.