Georgio’s curly brown head appeared through hole that Venir had recently made and which had yet to be fixed. Melegal heard Lefty gasp and relief washed over him at the sight of Georgio. He watched Georgio scramble out in horror. Lefty began to cry out to his friend but Melegal clasped both hands over the halfling’s small mouth. Melegal’s hope faded as a dark figure in a hat exited the hole right behind Georgio.
McKnight … again.
The detective strode forward, slinging blood from his sword and dagger. McKnight turned and pursued the boy. Hatred bubbled in Melegal’s mind. It was time to take care of McKnight once and for all.
Melegal grabbed Lefty’s chin and looked into his eyes.
“Catch up to Georgio,” Melegal said. “Take him to the spot in the barn. You remember the spot, right?”
Lefty swallowed and nodded.
“Let McKnight follow you and Georgio into the barn. Then wait for me. And if McKnight gets too close, just run.” He let go of the halfling. “You can do this!”
Lefty nodded, then climbed down the wall and was out of sight in a moment. Melegal followed but headed a different way. He knew McKnight would track Georgio down. The barn wasn’t too far away. He only hoped that Lefty would find his friend in time and take him to the prearranged spot. Lefty had proven to be very capable in following Melegal’s orders so far, but desperation could be treacherous. Even if the boys didn’t make it to where they were supposed to go, Melegal was still going to deal with McKnight, one way or another. He just hoped it was his way.
CHAPTER 45
Lefty’s sweaty feet splashed over the streets as if he were running on water. He was nervous, almost in a panic, trying to catch his friend. He didn’t realize it, but his feet were hardly touching the ground. He was running like a deer through the streets and alleys. Those that saw him jumped aside in astonishment. Some thought they were seeing a ghost. Quick feet were a rare and magical gift among only a few halflings, and Lefty was one of them. It only took him a couple of minutes to find Georgio huffing and puffing in exhaustion in a nook not far from the barn. The boy’s head was down and he was mumbling when Lefty skidded to a halt by him.
“Georgio! It’s me, Lefty!”
Georgio looked up and the halfling stepped back in surprise. Georgio sported a large bloody gash over his cheek and blood covered his ragged clothes. The gash, though, did seem to be healing up, and Georgio’s face lit up a bit as he realized who was talking to him.
“Lefty, I … I can’t run anymore. He’s … McKnight’s going to kill me. I can’t take it anymore,” he cried, then lurched forward.
Lefty caught him and hugged him.
“No, you won’t die!” Lefty said. “I’ll protect you. Melegal is right behind me—and Venir isn’t too far away—but we have to get to the barn. Get to the spot. Let’s go!”
Georgio stood up with a groan. Lefty pulled him along, but the boy could barely trot. Lefty’s heart was racing, fearing that any second McKnight would step out of the shadows and take them both out. Street after street they plodded through the meager crowd until they finally made it into the barn. All seemed dark and dead quiet. Of course, in any of the stables, a man could be lurking behind the gate, but regardless, they pressed on.
The spot that Melegal spoke of was a small stable near the one they kept Chongo and Quickster. It didn’t have much of a gate and offered little concealment, as it was just a few planks spaced more like a fence. A faint red dot the size of a coin could be seen on the fence.
Georgio crept in as Lefty grabbed some rocks gathered on the ground and hurled them at the pigeons above. They scattered in flight by the dozens from the open roof and rafters above. Melegal never told Lefty why he had to do this, but just told him it every time they talked about an emergency situation. The curious halfling figured it was just signal, nothing more, nothing less. He also wondered if all the hangings Melegal said he had witnessed on those rafters were true as he stared up at them, noticing some old ropes that still dangled here and there. He shuddered from the haunting thought, then closed the gate behind him. He and Georgio soon huddled inside together. Neither said a word as Lefty tried to comfort his trembling friend the best he could. It wasn’t long before he was trembling as well.
*****
When McKnight saw the plume of pigeons burst into air from the distance, he knew he would soon have the boy. He confidently moved through the streets near the stable, satisfied now as he realized he would soon have things back under control. His pursuit was almost over and he would have his station among the Royals regained.
In a matter of time, his vengeance on his former apprentice Melegal would be complete as well. He smiled to himself, realizing all of his suffering was coming to an end and Melegal’s was about to begin. Oh, the fun he would have using his resources to see to it that the former urchin would never be able to rest in this city ever again.
Then McKnight wondered what price the regener boy would fetch in the slave markets. The detective knew it would be fortune enough to start his own Royal line himself. He felt so excited he almost began to whistle. Finally he could plan on the oft enjoyed indulgences of the City of Bone once again.
*****
Melegal managed to clear with barn’s roof and slip down into the rafters after Lefty scattered the birds. Good boy! he thought.
The boys had made it to the spot and all was in order as he wanted it to be. Melegal tucked his hat into his pants. Then he grabbed two strands of climber’s rope that he had planted there long ago, now dusty but still undisturbed. He looped the rope around his feet, tethering himself to the rafters with the rope. This better work. He eased himself deeper into the rafters and aligned himself with the stable in which Georgio and Lefty huddled, completely unaware of his presence.
He pulled out a concealed dagger with a two-handed hilt and extra long blade, placing the flat of its sharpened iron between his teeth. This better work. Then he pulled himself into a crook between the roof and high wall, hanging on only with his hands and drawing his feet tight like a fishing line to where the rope was secured onto a higher rafter. He strained to keep still as he hung suspended, facing downward and parallel over the barn’s ground thirty feet below. He had seen trapeze artists before, remembering how they’d swung. It had inspired the idea to set up this trap for a day like this. Closing his eyes, Melegal breathed deeply through his nostrils and thought about what he was going to do … for the first time. Focusing on the single moment that he had executed in his thoughts hundreds of times, he knew he was ready. Still, he had his doubts. This better work. He exhaled, opened his eyes, and waited. Moments passed.
He heard someone enter the side barn door. Melegal saw the trademark black hat. It was McKnight. The detective crept in and paused, crooning his head back and forth. By now, Melegal’s acute ears could hear Georgio’s heavy breathing below, so certainly McKnight would too. Actually Melegal was counting on it.
As McKnight crept along, Melegal felt his hands beginning to ache from hanging onto the rafters so long. Get on with it, man!
Melegal could only see the detective’s wide-brimmed black hat and little else. The hat seemed to tip left and right, not honing in on where Melegal wanted him to. McKnight now stood almost directly below him, and the hat began to tilt upward in his direction. Don’t look up. Don’t look up! Melegal thought, almost saying the words out loud as his heart began to pound in his chest. The dagger began to slip from his mouth. Listen for the boy, you fool! Melegal’s fingers were burning, as McKnight seemed content to linger for the moment. Melegal’s body began to quiver. Can’t hold it much longer—move, you fool! The detective seemed to hear something and McKnight finally headed where Melegal wanted him to go. Melegal could see McKnight standing right in front of the red dot. This better work. He let go and grabbed the dagger from his teeth. He could hear the wind in his ears as the ground rushed up to meet him. McKnight’s back was in his sights. This better work!
*****
Lefty
could hear McKnight’s footsteps as he led Georgio over to their hiding spot in the stall. Georgio was squeezing his hand so hard it hurt. Whatever Melegal has in mind, it better happen soon, or we’re both dead, Lefty thought.
Georgio began sobbing over and over, “Where’s Vee?”
Then McKnight’s face came into full view above the small gate—a menacing figure stroking his moustache. Lefty felt helpless. What was this “spot” of Melegal’s, the place he’d sent them to die? And where was Melegal?
The detective looked elated at their horror, and he began to pull at the gate. Lefty’s eyes widened as a silent shadow descend from the rafters. McKnight also noticed and began to turn.
“Eh?” McKnight said.
Wham!
A blade exploded like a blooming bloody rose from McKnight’s black chest, knocked him through the gate into the stall. Georgio dove onto Lefty. Lefty peeked out from underneath the boy. McKnight stood on shaky knees, blood oozing from his mouth and chest. Behind McKnight hung Melegal. Lefty could hardly believe his eyes. Melegal twirled the detective around and faced him eye to eye.
“That … that was my … idea,” McKnight croaked through bloody lips.
“And it worked. What a wonderful teacher you were,” Melegal said with a sneer.
Lefty watched as McKnight’s body grew pale and his eyes began to widen in frozen horror as he realized he faced a death he could not escape.
Melegal drew closer and whispered in McKnight’s ear: “This time, there will be no body to come back from the dead. I’m feeding you to the hogs. Mmmmm. They just love the succulent meat and marrow of the men of Bone. You remember, don’t you?”
Lefty watched in relief as McKnight crumpled slowly to the ground. Melegal turned him around and removed his dagger. Melegal was smiling bigger than Lefty had ever seen. The monster of all back stabs was complete.
Mindful of the thief’s lessons, Lefty and Georgio claps were silent as Melegal gave an inverted bow. Georgio then scrambled up again.
“What about Vee?” Georgio said. “Where is he? Isn’t Tonio still out there?”
Melegal got out of the ropes and scratched his head. Lefty looked at him. Apparently they had both forgotten all about Venir.
“You two stay here,” Melegal said.
“No!” Georgio cried. “We’re coming too!”
But Melegal was already running away.
CHAPTER 46
Venir stepped out fully into the alley, facing his foes. Some of the Shadow Sentries gasped, while the others stepped to the rear, heads looking back and forth at him and one another. He couldn’t see their faces through the armor they wore, but he felt their wide eyes. He smelled their fear. They already knew that some of their number would soon die at his hands. It made him hungry for their blood. He smiled to himself.
The Sentries murmured as they raised their weapons. Then he heard one of them say, “He is only a man.” But the voice seemed uncertain.
Besides, Venir didn’t feel like a man. He felt like a killing machine. He chopped Brool through the air before them. He knew their kind: cruel and dangerous. One mistake on his part could be fatal. But he didn’t even care. It was time to end this and save Georgio.
Venir rushed in, catching a spear tip on his shield and knocking it away. The others flanked him now, with their axe and swords. He was a burst of motion, swinging left and right, keeping them at bay. They were reluctant to get too close, Brool’s ferocity barring their way. From the corner of his eye, Venir caught sight of someone rushing at him with a spear. They were quicker than he’d thought. Venir parried, then jabbed Brool’s spike through the Sentry’s chest. Snarling, Venir ripped it out just as another Sentry came in with a sword at his now exposed back.
Too late Venir twisted away and the blade sank into his back a couple of inches. Pain exploded in his mind. There was no time to be cautious, he knew: hesitation would kill him. He let out the berserker. His raged flowed. Brool became a living part of him, exploding into action and cutting off the sword arm of the Sentry that had injured him. The sight of the Sentry screaming on the ground softened the attack of the others—a major mistake on their part. Venir pressed into them like a landslide of sharpened steel. Their senses could not keep up with his movements.
The injured Sentry tried to retreat but was whittled away into pieces, Brool cutting clean through his armor like paper and leaving him with bleeding stumps. Two down, three more to go. Venir’s bloodlust, though, made him careless and a spear tip sank deep into his thigh. He didn’t care, determined to render them all into dog food. Deep in his mind, he knew time was running out.
Two men with spears and an axe man moved around and surrounded him. The spear jabs kept Venir in constant motion and bursting attacks. He swatted their jabs away, time after time, but he was still cornered. One spearman tried to turn him around, hoping to expose Venir’s back to the axe man. Venir knew what was happening, but he had to keep up his front guard. The battle-axe of the Sentry ripped into his back, tearing his chainmail away. Venir fumbled his shield. It clattered to the ground. They seized the moment and rushed in. He scrambled out of the way over and over again—snatching up his shield at one point—but he couldn’t keep it up. He had to attack. They barked out commands to one another, and Venir roared back. He’d had enough. A spearman glanced toward his yelling comrade, giving Venir a small opening. Venir dashed in, Brool’s long spike punctured the man’s throat, and he ripped it out, gleaming in triumph.
“You fight like ferrets!” Venir shouted. “I’ve only two more to sink my metal into, so enjoy your last moments on Bish, boys!”
The battle waged on as the alley grew slick with blood. The clangs of steel echoed down the corridor, awakening ears within the block. No one ventured out to see, though. They left their candles be. The two remaining Shadow Sentries maintained their ground, fighting in desperation. Venir began to feel woozy from the blood loss, knowing he had been gashed and stabbed from head to toe. He pressed them, blocked their jabs, and batted away their blows, but they seemed to be getting the best of the him. His arms felt weary. But he also noticed that their blows on his shield became lighter and less frequent. And he could hear their gasps for breath. He reached deep inside.
Gotta get through this … gotta save Georgio.
The two Sentries attacked in unison, spear tip stabbing high and low while the battle-axe attacked in the middle. But Venir squirted between the weapons like a ghost, distancing himself from the swinging axe cutting toward his belly and leaving him in the clear to attack the exposed man.
With all his might, he swung into the spearman’s back, ripping clear through his torso. The bewildered man fell in two. It felt good. Only one to go.
He turned on his final assailant, who just stood there waiting with his battle-axe. Something was wrong. Venir whirled in time as another Sentry burst from a side alley wielding a sword. Nothing could have saved the man as Brool’s razor edge severed the arm in the middle and drove deep through the side of his chest like a machete cutting a watermelon. Venir watched as the man somehow slunk away, spewing blood into the alley. Venir’s arms dropped, nearing exhaustion.
His instincts screamed: Move! He tried to duck under the battle-axe that was closing in on his throat. It clanged off his helmet. Pain blinded his sight as he hit the ground and rolled away. The remaining warrior kept pressing his attacks but Venir somehow blocked them all. He couldn’t feel or see anything, but he just chopped back. His arms ached, his nerves were on fire. His own axe loosened in his blood-slick grip. He felt the end approaching. The last Sentry was clearly the best of the lot, waiting to catch Venir at his weakest. The man had accomplished that much.
Venir could barely remember why he was there. Got to save Georgio. He saw the Sentry coming for him again. With both hands, Venir made a desperate slice at the man, catching him off guard. The sentry leapt back out of the way, stumbling. Venir had some breathing room. His ringing head began to clear. His instincts from countless ba
ttles began to prevail. His chest was heaving from labored breath and the dawn’s first light began to show on his blood-soaked face.
The lone Sentry stood before him, with not so much as a mark. The Sentry’s face had an expression of astonishment as if he were looking at the living dead. Or something else.
Venir grasped his mighty axe in two powerful hands. The Shadow Sentry gripped his as well.
“Who are you, warrior?” the Sentry asked through parched lips.
Venir’s gaze burned back at him. The Sentry shrugged, still standing between him and the alley’s exit. Venir charged him, his axe slicing the air. Nothing was faster. Blood and flesh scattered before his eyes. The man cringed back under his raw power. The shaft of the man’s axe was split in two. Venir cut off his hand. Then another. The man stood limp, mouth agape, looking at his gushing forearm stumps.
Again he asked from blood-thick lips: “Who are you, man?”
Venir brought Brool down with such force it cleaved the man in two.
He shook the blood off of his axe as he said, “The one you should have left alone.”
In the distance, he heard the sound of more men coming his way. Weak and aching from head to toe, he limped away. Got to save Georgio.
CHAPTER 47
The underling mage Lord Catten had spent many hours studying the leather tome that the imp Eep had fetched. The mind of the underling was hard at work trying to decipher the shorthand writing of the halfling scribe named Lefty Lightfoot. Catten’s clawed hands hadn’t stopped scribbling since the tome’s arrival.
The sharpened features of his gray rat-like face contorted from time to time. A plethora of discoveries about the surface world caused his golden eyes to dance in delight and rage from time to time. The unusual book he’d acquired was a treasure without equal in his hands. The mystery of the Darkslayer began to unravel. Verbard stood quiet by his side, assisting his efforts for a change.
The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night Page 21