Weapon of Pain (Weapon of Flesh Series Book 5)

by Chris A. Jackson

  “We won’t cower in the palace, Tennison!” Arbuckle frowned and drained his glass. He might not have blademasters to protect him or, sadly, Miss Moirin to save his life with her amazing prowess, but he still had a knighthood, an Imperial Guard, and a constabulary to keep him safe. “I’ll read the New Accords out in public to the common people of Tsing. They deserve it! Set up a date as soon as may be.”

  “Yes, Majesty.” Tennison scratched a note in his ledger, still looking dubious.

  “And pick up your glass, man! We’re celebrating!” Arbuckle waved the footman forward with the bottle.

  “Yes, Majesty.” Tennison picked up his glass, and the footman topped them off. However, as crystal chimed in toast to their accomplishment, Arbuckle saw more worry than victory in his secretary’s eyes.

  Chapter XXIII

  Approaching voices woke Mya from her troubled doze, a welcome disruption of the snippet dreams filled with sharpened steel and blood. She couldn’t escape this horror even in sleep.

  “Yes, yes, we took ten, but I don’t know how many we should graft on.”

  Kittal’s voice…close…

  “Why not all of them?

  Lakshmi now…

  Metal clicked, and the door opened. Kittal, Lakshmi, and the assisting Alchemists entered the chamber.

  “Because the trauma is dangerous for you,” Kittal said.

  Berta came in last and pointedly avoided Mya’s gaze.

  So much for sympathy… Mya had hoped for some compassion from the woman, but then, she could hardly expect a wink and a nod.

  “Hello, Mya.” Lakshmi’s smile, so sweet and benign, turned Mya’s stomach. The Master Inquisitor approached her captive. “I see you’ve recovered.”

  Mya glared at her in silence. Any response would only buy her more pain.

  “Nothing to say? Well, I really must thank you for the runes you donated. The graft worked perfectly, and I feel stronger already.”

  “At this point that’s probably wishful thinking, but we can certainly call our trial an unmitigated success.” Kittal guided the Inquisitor to the other table, past the row of jars with their writhing strips of luminous skin. “Your grafts await, Lakshmi. Let’s get started.”

  “Yes, let’s.” Lakshmi turned away without another glance at Mya.

  “Prepare the anesthetic,” Kittal instructed his assistants.

  Lakshmi doffed her silk robe, comfortable in her nudity as she climbed up onto the table and lay back. The strip of Mya’s flesh shone starkly against the Master Inquisitor’s dark skin, circumscribed by a thin line of pink scar tissue. Curiously, the runes hadn’t migrated beyond the borders, though they did writhe and dance within their confines. Mya had hoped the runes would lose their magic, but they seemed as animated as ever.

  Traitors…

  Berta draped a sheet over the Master Inquisitor’s wizened body, leaving both legs exposed.

  Kittal accepted a dampened white kerchief from Tieg and held it gingerly over his colleague’s face. “Breathe deeply. Just sleep, Lakshmi. You’ll wake up in no time.”

  A stifled cough ruffled the handkerchief, then a gasp, then slow breaths. Kittal drew away the cloth. “All right, let’s get to work. We have a lot to do.”

  Mya watched in morbid fascination as they began grafting her flesh onto her enemy’s body.

  A knock on the door of the Blue Room stopped Dee’s pacing. He glanced at the two wizards. Keyfur lounged at the table, sipping tea and scratching notes in a slim notebook. Woefler, seated away in the corner, was so engrossed in a book that he hadn’t even noticed the knock.

  “Go ahead and open it, Master Dee,” Keyfur said. “It’s probably just the staff asking if we want anything.”

  “No more gods-be-damned blackbrew…” Dee muttered as he turned to the door.

  He opened it to find Laila, the hostess, her face animated. “Just thought I’d drop this by.” She held out a single-page flier of the type usually tacked to posterboards all over the city. “The emperor’s made an announcement! He’s finished his New Accords!”

  “Oh…” Dee took the paper without much interest. He didn’t really give a damn about the emperor’s new laws. “Um…thanks.” He closed the door and resumed pacing, dropping the flier on the table as he passed.

  Keyfur picked it up and looked it over, then grimaced. “Oh, bother! Another public appearance? What in the names of the Gods of Light is he thinking?”

  “He’s probably thinking someone like Moirin will keep him safe so he doesn’t have to worry.” Even if they get killed in the process.

  “You don’t think much of our emperor, do you, Master Dee?”

  Dee shrugged. “Better than the last, I suppose.”

  “Yes, he is, quite a lot better, actually.” Master Keyfur looked displeased, which struck Dee as uncharacteristic; the wizard always seemed so happy. “I risked my life to save his and I’d do so again. He’s worthy of our respect.”

  I hope so.” Dee continued pacing. “How much longer, do you think?”

  “I don’t know.” Keyfur turned back to his notebook. “As long as it takes.”

  “Great,” Dee muttered, resuming his back-and-forth course.

  Finally, Woefler’s book thumped closed, and the wizard looked up.

  Dee froze in anticipation. If he calls for more food, I’ll…

  “Done!” Standing, Woefler stretched, working the muscles of his shoulders and neck. Looking around the room as if surprised by his surroundings, he saw Dee and smiled. “Sorry for the wait, but magic can’t be hurried, Master Dee.” He cracked his knuckles. “You do not want this spell to go awry.”

  “Awry?” Dee didn’t know things like this could go awry. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, all kinds of horrible things can happen if a spell goes wrong. One mispronounced word or a distraction, and we could end up lost forever in the either! Ha!” He looked thoroughly amused at Dee’s distress. “Don’t’ worry. I’m fresh as a daisy and have never erred in this incantation before.”

  “Let’s hope this isn’t the first time.”

  “Anything else before you go?” Keyfur tucked away his notebook and stood, his levity and brilliant smile again in place. “A cup of blackbrew, perhaps?” He winked at Dee, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

  “No! We should go! I’ll still need to talk with some people before visiting my associate. It’s going to take time, and time is what we’re short of.”

  Woefler looked perturbed, but bowed to Keyfur. “I’ll be in touch. If all goes well on Master Dee’s part, we’ll meet you here tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll make the reservations. Breakfast for four!” Keyfur smiled and laughed. “And apparently lunch is on me.”

  “Thanks. I’ll pick up the bill for breakfast tomorrow.” Woefler cocked an eyebrow at Dee. “Ready?”

  Hours ago. Dee kept his mouth shut and nodded.

  The wizard stuck his fingers into a pocket of his robe and withdrew them, raising his hand high. Murmuring softly, he snapped his fingers, and a cascade of iridescent motes drifted down. The air before him shimmered, then darkened to deepest black. Woefler held a hand out to Dee. “Now take my hand and don’t let go. The transition can be disconcerting to the uninitiated.”

  Disconcerting? How about terrifying? Dee peered at the oval of darkness. It seemed impenetrable, annihilating the lamplight rather than being illuminated by it. Viewing the portal from the side, it appeared to be as thin as a sheet of paper. His skin prickled. Nothing for it. Mya can’t wait weeks… Girding his nerves, Dee gripped the wizard’s hand.

  Woefler stepped forward and disappeared into the darkness as completely as if he’d been immersed in black oil. Only his hand, tugging Dee forward, protruded. Then it was gone, and Dee’s own hand penetrated the black plane. An indescribable chill stung his hand and progressed up his arm as it was engulfed in the opaque portal. When the black void touched his face, his heart skipped a beat, his mind experiencing the strange sensation of
being in two places at once. Then it was over, and he emerged into an unfamiliar room…and chaos.

  “Who the hell…”

  A man in uniform—gold braid at the collar—stood from behind a desk, a crossbow already half-raised. To one side, a huge beast growled and lunged, slavering jaws wide. Woefler thrust out his free hand, shouting words that shivered the air. A shimmer of light appeared before them. The beast—a massive dog—struck the barrier and rebounded with a snarl.

  “Brutus! Down! Hold!” The man behind the desk lowered the crossbow and snapped his fingers twice. “Heel!”

  To Dee’s relief, the dog immediately turned and took station beside its master. It growled and glared, thick spittle dripping off its jowls onto the floor. The man’s hand looked as small as a child’s as he patted the dog’s immense head.

  “Master Woefler, you need to be more careful about when and where you pop in!”

  Woefler let go of Dee’s hand and heaved a deep breath. “Must you keep that beast at your side every hour of the day, Captain?”

  Captain? Recognition came to Dee in a flash: the uniform, the braids on the man’s collar. Twailin Royal Guard? Betrayed!

  Dee plunged his hands into the pockets of his long coat and drew out his crossbows, pulling the first triggers as soon as they were clear. The bows snapped into place…and he froze. He had two shots, but three targets. The captain and the dog? The wizard and the captain? The wizard and the dog? Regardless of his choice, he would lose—there would be no time to reload before the third killed him.

  The captain’s eyes went wide and he raised his crossbow again. The dog growled and hunched its shoulders.

  “Stop it, you two!” Woefler raised his hand again, and the air between them shimmered with light. “We’re all friends here. Well, most of us, anyway.” He cast a wary glance at the dog.

  Dee hesitated. He had no choice but to trust Woefler. If he didn’t, he’d never get help for Mya in time. He lowered his weapons and folded the bows. The sprigs clicked, and he returned the crossbows to their pockets. The captain placed his own crossbow on his desk before him.

  “What’s this about, Woefler, and who’s he?” The captain pointed accusatively at Dee.

  Woefler shook himself, banishing the barrier of light. Taking a step back from the dog, he held out a hand toward each of the two men. “Master Dee, this is Captain Norwood, commander of the Twailin Royal Guard. Captain, this is Master Dee. He’s assistant to Miss Moirin, the young woman who saved the emperor’s life at the coronation. You may remember I spoke of her.”

  “Well!” Norwood’s whole countenance changed. Smiling broadly, he grabbed a cane, limped out from behind the desk, and stuck a beefy hand out to Dee. “Well, then, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, and very pleased to meet you. Woefler has indeed told me of your mistress’ actions at the coronation. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

  Dee swallowed a hard lump in his throat and shook the man’s hand. “Yes…yes, she is.”

  “So…” Norwood looked back and forth between Dee and Woefler, “to what do I owe the honor of such an…uh…abrupt visit?”

  “We’re here on a matter of extreme urgency, Captain.” Woefler’s voice brimmed with excitement, which seemed to Dee a far cry from his subdued behavior at the restaurant. “And extreme secrecy!”

  Norwood leaned back against his desk, rolling his eyes. “You and your mysteries, Woefler.”

  “Captain, I assure you, this is not my mystery!” the wizard insisted. “The emperor himself has commanded any assistance we can give Master Dee in…well, I’ll let him tell you the details.”

  “Uh…” Dee wished Woefler had just dropped him on a street corner and let him get on with this on his own. “Miss Moirin’s been captured. I need to talk with some people, then get back to Tsing with an associate, so I’m not sure why we’re bothering the captain here.”

  Woefler shrugged. “Because nobody else in Twailin can get you what you need faster and with the least fuss!”

  The captain nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ll certainly do all I can, but some background would help. Who could possibly have captured Miss Moirin? By all accounts, she’s damn near invulnerable.”

  There’s no way around this if I’m ever going to get out of here, Dee decided, but that didn’t mean he had to tell everything.

  “Magic was used to trap her, Captain. Miss Moirin was assigned a mission by the emperor that involved retrieving…some stolen items from the same group responsible for the recent assassination attempts. They operate under orders from the former emperor’s spiritual advisor, Hoseph.”

  “Hoseph?” Norwood surged to his feet.

  “You know him?” Dee asked, startled.

  “I’ve…encountered him. He tried to kill me, in fact.” Norwood reached over and scratched behind the dog’s ears. “That’s the reason for Brutus, here, and my reaction when you two popped in.”

  Dee stared in shocked silence. Hoseph tried to kill the captain of the Twailin Royal Guard? Why?

  “Ahhh…” Woefler nodded knowingly. “So that was who—”

  “I’m not…at liberty…to discuss the details.” Norwood stared down the wizard, then turned back to Dee. “Please continue.”

  “To make a long story short, Miss Moirin was kidnapped by the group Hoseph is working with, and we’re trying to find her. That’s why I need to contact my associates here.”

  “But why are you here in Twailin,” Norwood asked, “if all this happened in Tsing?”

  “Miss Moirin is from Twailin,” Dee explained, wondering how best to weave a tapestry of truth and lies. “She…trained here and has many professional associates still here who may be able to help.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know her, actually,” Woefler said to the captain. “A woman of her skills, in security…”

  Norwood raised his eyebrows and considered the information for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “No, I’ve never heard of a young woman with such abilities, but then, I’m not well-acquainted with those in private security.”

  Dee flinched when both men turned inquiring eyes on him. “She…likes to keep a low profile.”

  “Well!” Norwood clapped his hands together. “If we’re to save Miss Moirin from that motherless son of a—well, from Hoseph, then we’d best get to it!”

  Finally! Dee stood. “Thank you, Captain. If you could just loan me a horse, I can send it back—”

  “I can do better than that!” Norwood limped past them to his office door, opened it, and shouted. “Sergeant Flax! My carriage and a horse squad. Immediately!”

  “Sir!” The sergeant dashed off.

  “Brutus, heel!” Norwood snapped his fingers, and the huge dog trotted past them to the captain’s side. “Let’s go, Master Dee. Woefler, are you coming, too?”

  “No, I’ve got my own things to do. Just contact me when you’re ready, Master Dee. The Captain knows how.”

  Dee stared aghast at the captain. “You’re going with me?”

  “Of course! Nothing will stand in your way with me at your side.” With that, the captain strode out of the office as fast as he could manage with his cane, his dog at his heel.

  Woefler grinned at Dee. “See? Captain Norwood gets things done.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Dee fell into step behind the captain. “I just didn’t expect him to be so…enthusiastic.”

  Hoseph materialized in Otar’s grimy little room and staggered. Grateful that the former Imperial Guard captain wasn’t there to see his distress, he dosed himself with elixir. His headache, nausea, and fatigue faded away. Settling carefully onto the only chair in the room—though rickety and looking ready to collapse, it was a more appealing seat than the rumpled bed with its grubby sheets—he pulled a flier from his pocket and unfolded it. Reading it yet again, he smiled.

  Soon enough, Arbuckle…soon enough.

  Feminine laughter from the hallway drew closer, and shuffling steps stopped outside the door. A key rattled i
n the lock, and the door opened.

  “Hey!” A woman in a low-cut bodice that looked several sizes too small for her ample figure stopped short in the doorway and stared at Hoseph. “Oatie, you didn’t tell me there’d be two o’ you. That’ll cost extra, you know.”

  “What the—” Otar pushed pasted the woman and espied Hoseph, his eyes narrowing. “Go downstairs, Jacie. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “But who’s this in yer room? I thought you said—”

  “Not now! I’ll be right down. Go!” Otar pushed the woman outside and closed the door, then whirled toward his unexpected guest. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to show up in the evening!”

  “I have another assignment for you, Captain.” Hoseph pulled a small pouch from his robes and bounced it on the palm of his hand so that the gold inside jingled enticingly.

  Otar looked at the pouch and licked his lips. “What kind of assignment?”

  Hoseph held up the flier he had snatched off a posterboard. “The emperor has finally finished his New Accords and intends to personally read them out to the public. I want you to find out from Chief Constable Dreyfus anything and everything you can about the security surrounding him at this event, and I mean everything.”

  The former captain grimaced. “Security for these things is extensive and hush hush.”

  “Yes, but you undoubtedly discussed security with the chief before. He trusts you.”

  “True.”

  “So he shouldn’t have a problem talking with you about this.”

  “I don’t know… It’s a lot of work.” Otar’s gaze crept back to the pouch.

  Hoseph flung the pouch onto the bed in disgust. Lust for wealth was a hallmark of the weak and venal. “You’ll get more when the job is done…if it’s done well.”

  “It’ll be done well.” The captain snatched up the pouch and hefted it.

  “See that it is.” Hoseph retrieved his talisman, his mind already beyond this squalid little room and its contemptable occupant. “I’ll be in touch.”