“Let him come,” Kalas said, holding up the cloak. “I’d like to see him try to take us on.”
A sharp whistle sang through the air, and in the next moment an arrow was through his hand. He screamed and dropped the cloak.
Colin looked up. In the rafters, there he was. Veranix, standing tall, bow out, ready to take another shot, wild grin across his face.
“Happy to oblige, Kalas,” he said. “Want to see my next trick?”
“Get him!” Kalas shouted to no one in particular as he dropped to the ground. All of Fenmere’s men in the place looked stunned, unsure of what to do. The two Blue Hand bloodhounds stayed at the door, disdainfully looking at Fenmere’s heavies, as if they considered getting Veranix a chore that was beneath them.
Sirath, on the other hand, was moving toward the cloak.
“Insect,” he growled at Veranix.
Veranix grabbed the marked arrow and notched it. “Don’t even think about it, Sirath.”
“Bah,” Sirath said, shaking his head. He stepped closer.
Veranix drew back. “Not another step, Sirath, or this goes in your chest!”
Sirath chuckled. “Threats from you? Pathetic mage. Petty thief.” He took one more step.
Veranix didn’t need another excuse. He let the arrow fly.
There was a rush of magic from Sirath, as he dismissively waved his hand at the arrow. The force shook the whole building, almost knocking Veranix off his perch.
It made no difference. The arrow was unaffected, just as Veranix hoped it would be. It flew true into Sirath’s chest. Sirath screamed and fell to the floor, gasping and writhing. He flopped about violently, like a fish pulled from the river. Everyone else in the room was paralyzed by the spectacle.
“I am an excellent mage and a fantastic thief, Sirath.” Veranix laughed as he snapped his bow back into its holder. “I just stole your magic!”
The arrowhead was dalmatium, filed down to a razor-sharp point. The arrow had then been rolled in the filed powder. Dalmatium dust was running in Sirath’s blood now, tearing him up more than any poison would.
Veranix jumped down to the floor, controlling his descent with magic. He was no longer burdened by carrying the arrow, but he could still feel the dust on his gloves. Doing magic was like walking through mud. He stripped them off and threw them at the two bloodhounds as he landed. There was nowhere near enough of the powder to disable them, but it could confuse and disorient them for a bit. He drew out his staff.
Sirath was trying to get to his knees, arms flailing blindly, the look on his face pure agony. Veranix sprang past him, striking him in the face and knocking him back down. Fenmere’s men drew weapons, but each of them seemed to be waiting for someone to take the lead. Two of them were between him and the cloak.
“Get the tosser!” shouted someone. Veranix realized it was Nevin. He had barely gotten the words out when Colin moved, drawing two knives from his boots and tackling the dealer boss. That was all the excuse that the others needed, and they came charging over. No chance to grab the cloak.
Veranix leaped up to the rope Kaiana and the professor hung from. Holding on by one hand, he undid Kai’s blindfold and gag.
“Miss me?” he asked.
“What—” was all she said as she looked around at the room. Fenmere’s men were gathering below them. Kalas clawed for the cloak, Sirath writhed on the floor, and the two bloodhounds were furiously swatting at their own faces.
“Get ready to run,” Veranix said, swinging around to the professor’s side. He removed the blindfold and gag. The professor was out cold, a huge purple welt across the top of his head. This made things harder.
“Run?” Kaiana asked. Veranix swung back around to face her.
“You’ve got to get the professor out, Kai,” he said. “I’ll make a hole to the door.”
“A hole, but—”
“Just get safe, Kai,” he said. “I’m sorry for all this.” He let go of the rope, touching it with a hint of magic as he did. It dissolved into ash and dust. He dropped to the ground, giving a hard blast of magic in all directions. It bowled over the group of thugs, and slowed the fall of Kai and the professor. She landed on her feet, grabbing his limp body.
Veranix felt a heady rush from that magic. He got more blast out of it than he had put into it. It was almost like when he used the cloak, but wilder, more out of his control. Numina was surging like a boiling pot.
The Winged Convergence. It must be doing something to magic right now. He could feel it, like ants crawling up his spine.
No time to think about it. He had to get Kai and the professor out.
Veranix went at two thugs who blocked the way to the door, and who were still reeling from his blast. He spun his staff about, clocking them both and keeping them from recovering. Kaiana lifted the professor over her shoulder like a sack of grain and made for the door.
Forden was there with the rope in his hand. The rope spun too fast to see; it was just a blur blocking their exit. “That is it!” he shouted. “I’ll kill you all!” He stepped closer.
Veranix tried to reach out, take control over the rope, feel his original connection to it. This mage was too powerful, though; he held complete sway over it. They only had a moment before he tore them to pieces with it.
“Rose Street!” came a yell from the door, and someone—a Rose Street Prince, by his arm—came charging in, knives out. He tackled Forden, stabbing as he hit. The mage screamed out, and the rope responded reflexively, coiling back and wrapping around the attacker. The Prince cried out as well as the rope constricted around his chest, but he had wrapped his legs around Forden, and would not let go. He stabbed again and again, refusing to yield. “This! Is what happens! When you cross the Princes!” he gasped out.
“Go!” Veranix yelled, and Kaiana didn’t delay, charging out the door with Professor Alimen.
Veranix saw Kalas grasp the cloak with his good hand. He dashed over and grabbed the other end of it. “No, you don’t, Kalas.”
“You ruined everything!” Kalas said. Veranix could feel the numina coursing through the cloak, through the both of them. Kalas was trying to tap into it, but Veranix was pulling on it as well. Neither of them could take control over the cloak’s power.
“You’ll have to wait another forty-seven years, then,” Veranix said. With his free hand, he lifted up his staff and hit Kalas. Before he could swing again, the staff dissolved into dust. Kent was on his feet, pale and bleeding, holding his hand out as if he intended to strike again. He then cried out and dropped down again, a knife in his back.
“Don’t touch him,” Colin said, his hand still outstretched from throwing the knife.
Veranix grabbed Kalas by the throat. Kalas struggled for a moment, but then looked over at Sirath, barely breathing on the floor, futilely clawing at empty air like he was blind. Veranix almost felt pity for the man.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Kalas whispered. “I have failed you and the Nine.” He drew the numina again, in a surge that took Veranix by surprise. Unable to pull on the numina Kalas had, he squeezed harder on his throat. Kalas didn’t direct the numina at Veranix, though. Instead he focused on Sirath, who then vanished in the blink of an eye.
Veranix wrenched the cloak from Kalas’s hand. Kalas dropped to the ground as soon as he lost contact. The numina poured into Veranix’s body, and with that he was able to summon the rope over, which lay dormant around the two bodies by the door. It coiled up and undulated at his feet, like a tame snake ready to strike at his command. He turned to the few of Fenmere’s men who were still standing. None of them looked like they wanted to be in the warehouse a moment longer.
“If you want to run, now’s the time,” Veranix said. All of them dropped their weapons and went for the door. Veranix recognized one of them, and wrapped the rope around him, lifting him off the ground.
“Hello, Bell,” he said, bringing the man over. “I see Fenmere didn’t kill you.”
“Oh, let me go, Thorn,” Bell said, looking as if he was about to start weeping. “I’m done, man. I’m done.”
“You know, Bell,” Veranix said. “I’m a man who believes in repentance. So I will let you go, trusting that you will give a message to your boss.”
“Another message? Why me, Thorn?”
“Because I like you, of course,” Veranix said. “Tell Fenmere that tonight was about stopping the Blue Hands, and he’d be wise to not involve himself in mystical matters anymore.”
“Oh, he’s done with them, chief,” Bell said. “He doesn’t want anything to do with them.”
“Good,” Veranix said. “He should consider the same attitude when it comes to effitte. And crossing Waterpath.”
“He won’t stop . . .”
“I know he won’t,” Veranix said. “Tell him I’m still here, and I’m going to be watching him. I won’t stand for his junk coming into the University or Aventil. Let him know I’m not done with him.”
“Yeah, sure,” Bell said. “Just let me go, Thorn.”
“Go, run.” Veranix set Bell back on the ground by the door. Bell dashed off as soon as he was free.
Colin was over by the door, pulling the dead mage off the other man. Veranix went over.
“Colin, is he—” he started. The young man, a street tough, one of Colin’s boys lay on the ground. He looked dazed, blood coming from his nose and ears. He wheezed and coughed.
“Easy, Hetzer,” Colin said.
“Hey, cap.” Hetzer barely got the words out. “We help the Thorn?”
“Yeah,” Veranix said, bending over the dying man. “You did it.” Hetzer looked at Veranix, his eyes finally finding something to focus on.
“It’s you,” he said, reaching up with a bloody hand. He cusped Veranix’s head. “You’re the one, Thorn. You show them.”
“I will,” Veranix said.
“He is, isn’t he?” Hetzer asked Colin. “He’s the one who should be—” He didn’t finish his sentence. He stopped breathing or moving, his eyes still fixed on Veranix.
“Should be what?” Veranix asked.
“Ain’t nothing,” Colin said. He got up and walked away from Veranix, not looking at him.
“I can’t believe you came here,” Veranix said. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Ain’t nothing,” Colin said again. “I made your father a promise, and a Rose Street Prince always keeps his promises.”
“His name was Hetzer?”
“Yeah,” Colin said. “He died a true Prince.”
“He did,” Veranix said. “You need help taking him home?”
Colin shook his head. “I can handle it, cousin. You’ve got to look after yours, and I’ll take mine.”
“Thank you, Colin,” Veranix said. “I wouldn’t have been able to—”
“Yeah, I know,” Colin said. “It ain’t nothing, I told ya. Now get out of here. And let’s keep to our sides of our streets for a bit.”
“Sure,” Veranix said. Colin still hadn’t looked at him. Instead he went over and picked up his dead friend. He started to walk out down the street.
“Hey, cousin,” he said after a moment. He looked back at Veranix. “He’s right, though. You fought like a Prince tonight. Your dad would have been proud.” With that, he went out into the dark street.
Chapter 28
VERANIX FOUND DELMIN sitting on the curb of the street, dazed and disoriented, but otherwise unharmed.
“Did we win?” Delmin asked.
“I think we did,” Veranix said, holding up the rope.
“The Blue Hand Circle?” Delmin asked.
“Two are definitely dead,” Veranix said. “I didn’t check on Kalas after it all.”
“No?” Delmin asked. He got up from the curb, rubbing his head.
“For one, I didn’t feel like sticking around in the warehouse. And I’m not much of one for killing someone who’s already helpless.”
“That’s a dog that’ll bite you back, you know,” Delmin said. He slowly started walking down the street, and Veranix kept pace with him.
“Could be,” Veranix said.
“And Sirath?” Delmin asked. “Oh, excuse me. Lord Sirath.”
“Pretty sure he’s dead,” Veranix said. He thought about it for a moment. “Though Kalas, he . . . what’s the word? Where you make someone vanish and reappear somewhere else?”
“Teleport,” Delmin said. He was definitely favoring one leg as he walked. Veranix got under Delmin’s arm and helped him.
“Right. I think Kalas did that to Sirath. And he said something about ‘he failed the Nine.’ Mean anything to you?”
Delmin shook his head. “Kaiana and the professor?”
“They got out, Kaiana running like blazes with him over her shoulder. You didn’t see them?”
“No,” Delmin said. “We go on faith they got to safety?”
“I have faith in Kai,” Veranix said. “She’d sort out where she was and how to get back to campus. She knows a lot of the neighborhoods around the campus, and, well, she knows how to run.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“We’ll keep an eye out for the two of them,” Veranix said. “I need to get you back to campus as well.”
Then Delmin looked over at Veranix, as something occurred to him. “There was a kid, like a street urchin type, and he had the cloak and the rope. How . . . why did he?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Veranix said. “But Kaiana hid the things away, and it got to the Rose Street . . . to one of the street gangs . . .”
“Is there a long story in here that I don’t want to hear, Vee?” Delmin asked.
“Maybe so,” Veranix said. “How bad is your leg?”
“It’ll sort itself out in a bit, I think,” Delmin said. “Nothing too bad.”
“Walking back will take a while,” Veranix said. “Now that I have these back, we could go the faster way.”
“No, we walk,” Delmin said forcefully. “My leg may be hurt, but I prefer a route on solid ground.”
“Fair enough,” Veranix said. They walked for a while in silence. After another half block, Veranix said, “You know, last night I stole a horse.”
“Walk!” Delmin snapped.
“Fine, fine.” Veranix let the silence hang for a moment. “It is a nice night for it, you know. I mean, look at the moons. Winged Convergence. How often you see something like that?”
“Not often,” Delmin said, stifling a laugh.
“I’m telling you, Del,” Veranix said. “There’s something magical about a night like this.”
“Really, you have to shut up.”
At nearly two bells after midnight, the Turnabout was empty of all but the diehard Princes. All boys Colin knew on sight, all loyal guys with ink on their arms. Despite the late hour, all of them jumped up to full attention when Colin came in, Hetzer’s body draped over his shoulder.
“Blazes, Colin!” one of them said as soon as he walked in. “What happened?”
Colin laid Hetzer’s body on the floor. Kint, behind the bar, didn’t look happy, but he didn’t say anything, either.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” Colin said, looking at all the gathered men who surrounded the body. “Tonight a Prince gave his life for Rose Street. Tonight a Prince fought for something that he believed in. Tonight a Prince was there to help us and ours.”
“Who killed him?” another Prince asked hotly. “Where do we hit?”
“Don’t hit no one, not tonight. Tonight’s business is done.”
“No, Colin, if Hetzer is dead . . .” Voices all started rising.
Colin whistled for the boys to hush. “Hetzer avenged himself, with his own hand. And
he did more than that.”
“What more?”
“Hetzer died saving the Thorn.”
The room went quiet. One of the boys finally broke the silence. “You’re kidding us, Colin.”
“The Thorn hit Fenmere tonight, I’m telling you, and the crazy mess he was up to his neck in.”
“What mess?”
“Mage circles.”
The room filled with shouts and cries.
Colin shouted over the crowd. “I don’t know all of what they were up to, but the Thorn knew it had to be stopped, and he stepped up. And Hetzer stepped up.”
“Why were you and Hetzer there?” someone called out.
“Was it that paper job?”
“Did you know what that was about?”
“You know who the Thorn is?”
“Was Hetzer the Thorn?”
“You the Thorn?”
“Shut it!” Colin screamed out. The boys stopped talking, but the intensity on their faces burned into him. “I ain’t the Thorn, and neither was Hetz, all right? Yeah, I saw that paper job, and Hetz and I decided it was in our interests to check it out.”
“You saw the Thorn, though? You know who he is?”
Colin was about to snap at the person who asked, until he saw it was Old Casey.
“I saw him,” Colin said. He didn’t want to lie to one of the bosses. Not straight out, not over the body of a dead Prince. That wasn’t right. “He ain’t one of ours, or any other Aventil gang that I know.”
“So what good is he to us?”
Colin chose his words deliberately. “The Thorn let Fenmere know to stay on his side of Waterpath. That he was going to hold him there.”
“The Thorn can’t hold the line,” Casey scoffed.
“He says he can, and from what I saw tonight, I believe him.”
“You believe in him now?”
“I didn’t until tonight,” Colin said.
“All right, then,” Casey said. “We’ve got some work to do tonight, boys.”
The collective sound from the group was less than excited. Colin knew damn well he wanted to get to a flop to crash, and everyone else in here probably did as well.
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