by M. Walsh
“I believe there’s a boarding house on the other side of town,” said Warren. “If he’s not checked in the Stop or the inn Miss Rien is staying, and assuming he hasn’t already left town, he could be there.”
Brooks returned and said Kader wasn’t checked in. Warren then led the three Sentries and Katrina to the boarding house. It was a large, three story structure, standing out among the other homes in Dictum. Had it not been a boarding house, it would’ve been easy to assume its owner was wealthy.
The keeper of the house was an elderly, mousy woman named Nelly. She cooperated with the Sentry Elite and Mage at her door and informed them there was a Rasul Kader renting a room on the third floor.
She led them up to the room and knocked on the shut door. “Mr. Kader,” she said. “Some officers of the Sentry Elite wish to speak with you.” There was a long pause, but no answer. “Mr. Kader..?” she repeated, knocking some more.
When there was no answer, Marcus stepped forward and said, “Rasul Kader. This is Captain Deacon Marcus of the Sentry Elite. We need to speak with you.”
No answer. Finally, he checked the door to see if it was locked. The doorknob turned, and he slowly pushed the door open before grunting, “Shit.”
Katrina followed the other Sentries and Mage into the room, only to find it in shambles. The furniture was destroyed, curtains and bed sheets ripped apart, window broken, and debris spread all over the floor. There was no sign of a body, but Brooks found what was left of Kader’s crushed glasses.
Seeing the room, Katrina’s stomach dropped, and she repeated Marcus: “Shit.”
4
Many miles to the south of Dictum is a long stretch of cliffs that form the western coast. The coastline bobs and curves, almost like someone drunkenly writing the letter S and never stopping. The area is known as the Blind Cliffs, standing over two hundred feet over the water where waves constantly crash against the jagged rock wall. All along the coast are numerous spires of rock that jut out from the ocean, standing like broken platforms or spikes.
If one followed the coast further south, one would find a single stone bridge leading about fifty feet out to a massive fortress atop a thick rock summit standing amidst the sea. The fortress was built from dark stone, appearing almost black even in bright sunlight—which was rare this close to the Dark Lands—and its main structure was a looming tower with walled-in courtyard surrounding it.
At the tower apex, Jacob Daredin sat within his chamber, meditating. He was an imposingly tall man with a thin, lanky frame and skin as white as a corpse. Long, stringy gray hair hung from his scalp, and the lower part of his skeletal face was covered in a black mask, leaving only sunken, beady eyes exposed.
Despite how old and withered he appeared, there was hidden power in his frail form. His body was tightly wrapped in black leather bands that covered his chest and arms, reaching to his neck—making him look like a somehow even more macabre mummy, if that was possible. It was unknown if his appearance was in some way necessary—a side-effect of his dabbling in the powers of the Black—or if he simply indulged a freakish presence by choice. Either way, it was clear to anyone that saw him, Jacob Daredin was man of evil intent.
He sat crouched in his dimly lit chamber, hearing the crashing waves far below his window. The chilled air soothed him and helped him concentrate. He reached out with his spirit, allowing his mind to see events as they transpired for miles. The visions came in vague shadows, but he could see the various players gathering together—some needed, others not.
Finally, not far from the town of Dictum, he found who he was looking for. He called out to his half-demon second-in-command, Edmund Rictor, and demanded an update.
“Leeroy’s pirates insist they have matters at hand. I believe the Princess is approaching the Derelict Woods, if not already there, as we speak.”
“What of Kader?”
“No word,” Rictor replied. “My lord, it might also be worth noting a handful of Sentry Elite seem to be pursuing the pirates. Yesterday, a Mage of the Guardians joined them. If I may say, my lord, I think we’re wasting our time with Leeroy and his scoundrels.”
Beneath his mask, Daredin smiled. “Ah, but Rictor, was that not the point of using Leeroy and his men? They are smokescreen, meant to misdirect and mislead the Sentry Elite. A Guardian concerns me no more than they do.”
“I understand my lord, but since the pirates are meant to be just a distraction, why don’t we employ our own means of getting the Princess? If not our own people, then perhaps demons..?”
Behind him, Daredin sensed one of the Hawke twins perk up with excitement. “No,” he said. “It is too soon for that. We mustn’t play our hand so blatantly just yet. We’ll let Leeroy and his band of fools flail about for now.”
“There is something else.”
“What is it?”
“The Enforcer, my lord. He is near.”
Daredin’s blood ran cold, and he felt his throat clench. “That,” he said, “could be ... troublesome.”
Rictor said nothing, awaiting further orders.
After a long pause, Daredin said, “We’ll deal with that if it comes to it. Hopefully the Enforcer will simply pass by. Or perhaps indulge himself on Leeroy’s pirates. In the meantime, keep watch, Rictor. Keep me informed of any significant updates and watch out for Kader.”
“Yes, my lord.”
With a sigh, Daredin’s spirit returned to his body. Behind him, Carlyle and his sister, Lenora, stood at attention. They both shared long, dark hair, pale, porcelain skin, and delicate features—wearing elegant black dress-wear. They ranked just below Rictor among Daredin’s followers and stood waiting for their master to speak.
He regarded the twins and sensed the eagerness sparked in Carlyle—adept in the summoning of demons. He still felt it was too soon to start unleashing demons on the land and feared attracting that much attention. With Sentry Elite and now a Mage in the area, he felt it best to leave their attention directed toward Krutch Leeroy. Nevertheless, he thought, the Enforcer was a wild card.
“Carlyle,” he said, finally. “We won’t unleash any demons just yet, but have the necessary spells prepared all the same. I suspect we will need more than just orcs soon.”
Carlyle and his sister both smirked and bowed before leaving. With a sigh, Daredin sat in his armchair and admired the silver-handled dagger in his hand. He caressed the Dragon’s Fang and thought ahead to the coming Devil’s Moon.
“Soon,” he whispered. “Soon.”
* * *
The sun managed to make an appearance, bringing with it some hints of blue sky beneath the clouds. Marcus felt hot under his armor and was regretting last night’s cigarette. Under the circumstances, he thought he could allow just one and move on, but all it did was make him want more. The Rien woman wasn’t helping—she was pacing by the entrance of the Pilgrim’s Stop, smoking like a chimney.
“Anything..?” he asked.
“No,” said Warren, sparing a brief glance before shutting his eyes again. “I told you I can only sense the presence of magicks. Unless these pirates have a spell-caster of their own, I doubt I’ll be able to sense if they’re in Dictum.”
“I know,” he said. “But Leeroy’s supposed to have some magic weapon. Kind of hoped you might zero in on that.”
Warren cocked an eyebrow. “So we do think Krutch Leeroy is involved..?”
“I’m grasping at straws here.”
Marcus started pacing, while the Mage resumed his meditation. Rien looked as impatient as he felt. There were no clues or leads to be found in Rasul Kader’s room. Whoever ransacked the place and took Kader made sure not to leave any trace or hint of what he was after. Miss Nelly claimed she didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, nor did she see anyone suspicious.
“I’m not sensing anything,” Warren said. “Our proximity to the Derelict Woods isn’t helping either. The darkness there is clouding everything.”
“It was worth a shot,” said Marcus, ru
bbing his neck. “Maybe Brooks or Nelson will turn up something.”
The Mage glared toward Rien and said, “I don’t trust this woman.”
“Oh, yeah..?” he replied, tonelessly.
“This story of hers,” Warren said. “Kader and his mystery girl—it doesn’t make sense. Why go to her for help?”
“She handled those pirates pretty well. Maybe she’s a mercenary or something.”
“She’s unarmed. I’ve never heard of a mercenary that travels without a weapon. And even if she was, she wouldn’t have come to us.”
“So, what..?” he said, sighing. “What do you think she is?”
“She could be a pirate herself. She might be leading us to a trap.” Warren paused and added, “You mean to say this never occurred to you?”
“Of course it has,” he said. “But usually, when someone is leading you to a trap, they actually try to lead you somewhere. So far, Rien hasn’t suggested going anywhere or following her anywhere. In fact, she seems pretty eager to wash her hands of all this and be on her way.”
“Be that as it may, there’s something about this Kader and his quest I don’t like.”
“Apparently, she didn’t either. So you two have that in common, at least.”
“She’s hiding something.”
Marcus shrugged. He figured Warren was probably right about that much. Rien had the look of a drifter, but if she was able to kill two pirates—unarmed and drunk, according to her story—she had some fighting skills. Formal training, possibly. Also, when she talked to them, she spoke with command and candor, despite her raspy voice—like someone with experience handling soldiers.
She clearly had a history, but it didn’t concern him much. They were in Graylands, after all—it was the place people went when they didn’t want to be found.
Brooks and Nelson had been sent to the east and west gates of Dictum to question the guards. At least three pirates managed to get into town—one of which was still alive, according to Rien—and they did it either without the guards knowing, or they found a way to breach the walls.
Neither would surprise me, he thought.
Brooks was the first to return from the western gate. The guards there claimed to have never seen the pirates or anyone suspicious. Nelson returned shortly after and gave a similar report.
“Personally, Captain,” said Brooks, “I think if pirates are getting in and out of town, they’re climbing the wall. I think it would be easy enough.”
“The real question,” said Warren, “is Kader. If he’s in the pirates’ custody, they obviously haven’t snuck him through the gates. Could they get him over the wall?”
“They could be hiding him in town,” Brooks said. “They could all be here. Maybe they’re not sneaking in and out at all..?”
“Leeroy don’t take prisoners,” Nelson said. “If they got to Kader, his body is probably stashed in a well or something.”
“Nevertheless,” Brooks said, “do we stay in Dictum, try to find him, and maybe root them out?”
“We’re expected in Bevy.”
“We can’t just abandon this man.”
“Assuming he’s even here to be rescued.”
Although he didn’t look it—staring at the ground, rubbing his neck—Marcus took in everything his unit was saying. In the back of his mind, he kept returning to something Warren said the previous night: the Dragon’s Fang supposedly being related to a sacrifice. The pirates steal a magic dagger and the path crosses with Rasul Kader trying to find and protect some mysterious girl. Now he’s missing ...
“Kader’s the one they needed,” he said, finally. “Dead or alive, he’s their main target. So if they got him, they’re gone. Rien is just a loose end. There’s no point in our staying here.”
“Captain,” Brooks began, “you don’t suppose maybe we should stay another day, keeping Rien under guard, and maybe draw them out? Unless they were able to slip Kader out of Dictum, they could still be here.”
“You heard what Rien said,” he replied. “They were watching her, which means they probably know she came to us. They’re not going to make a move on her while we’re guarding her. At least not while we’re still in Dictum. Staying here, we’re just chasing our tails.”
“So where does that leave us..?”
* * *
Katrina stood at the bar in Pilgrim’s Stop, waiting for the bartender. Outside, Marcus was talking with Warren and the other two soldiers. She knew they were leaving soon, but she didn’t know where or even if she fit into their plans. At the moment, though, she didn’t care. She kept seeing Rasul Kader’s room completely ransacked and his desperate pleas for help and tried to ignore the guilt that was stinging the back of her neck.
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” the bartender asked.
“I’d like a glass of the strongest whiskey you have,” she said before producing a metal flask on the bar. “And then I’d like you to fill that up with the same.”
He nodded and poured the liquor, first in a glass, then filling the flask. She thanked him, paid for the drinks, and left a good tip. Wasting no time, she took a big sip from the whiskey and cringed as the burning fluid went down her throat.
It wasn’t my problem, she told herself. He shouldn’t have come to me in the first place. It’s not my fault.
She thought this, but had difficulty believing it—so she took a large swig, finishing the glass with her second gulp. Cringing and shaking her head, she looked at the bartender, who was staring at her, as if impressed.
“Refill on that..?”
“Please,” she croaked.
Behind her, Marcus stepped inside and stood beside her at the bar. Watching her drink, he whistled and said, “I admire a woman that can outdrink men.”
“You should see me when I’m in a good mood.”
He smiled. After a brief pause, he asked, “Did you know this Kader person?”
“No. He just came to me with his mission. I never met him before.”
“Why you..?”
Katrina’s head sank, and she sighed. She could already feel the whiskey affecting her, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “He thought I was something I’m not.”
“And what are you?”
She forced a weary smile and said, “Just a local lush.”
“Listen, my unit and I are going to head out for Bevy. I don’t know if Kader and this quest of his has anything to do with our mission, but since you seem to be a target of pirates regardless, I think it would be best if you accompany us.”
“Do you think it’s connected?”
“I don’t know. Warren doesn’t believe in coincidences, but hell if I know. Me, personally, I think you’ve just been caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She looked at him and said, “I’d like to believe that.”
Marcus hesitated, and she caught a glimpse of sympathy in his eyes. “Look,” he said, clearing his throat. “Connected or not, you’ll be safer in Bevy. We’re rendezvousing with other soldiers there, and we’ll keep you safe until we figure out what the hell is going on. Okay..?”
After a long pause, she shrugged, downed the rest of her glass, and clapped the bar-top. “Screw it. How often does one get the Sentry Elite as a personal escort? Let’s go.”
* * *
“What’s the word..?”
Lemmy Hobbs was munching on another green apple, waiting for another update from Dictum. The attempt on the Rien broad turned out to be a complete botch, forcing them to improvise with Kader. In the meantime, he had his own right-hand man, known only as Arkady, take a handful of men into town and keep an eye on what was happening.
“Bad news, Hobbs,” said Arkady. “That Rien broad, she just hooked up with those Sentries. They’re heading west right now.”
“Shit! Which means by now the Sentries know we’re up to something and probably even know this is a Krutch Leeroy job.” He grumbled and took another bite from the apple, pacing around. “I knew we should�
�ve taken out those Sentry pricks earlier.”
“Say, Hobbs, why don’t we let this go?” Arkady asked. “I mean, I don’t feel so good about taking on Sentry Elite. Especially when they got a Mage with them.”
All around the camp, the remaining pirates grumbled and mumbled amongst themselves—some in agreement, some siding with Hobbs. Altogether, they numbered under eight men of varying size and shape.
“Hey!” Hobbs shouted over them. “Are you forgetting who we are? Are we going to let ourselves get scared off by—what was it—three Sentries? Oh, so they got a Mage? So what? We got Krutch Leeroy! You think he hasn’t dealt with Mages before? Are we going to turn tail and run away from a job when we got the legendary Krutch Leeroy leading us? I say we start tracking those Sentry pricks, wait for the right moment, then cut their throats in the night! Who’s with me?!”
Arkady and the remaining pirates all cheered, raising their various weapons—swords, daggers, axes—into the air.
“We still got this!” Hobbs shouted, pounding his chest. “I say we ride! What do you think, boss?”
All eyes turned to the little man sitting off in the corner of the camp with shaggy black hair, wrinkled clothes, and a dark jacket. He looked up at the numerous pirates staring at him expecting an answer, and with wide, confused eyes, Krutch Leeroy replied, “Huh..?”
Part II
Threshold
5
There is a small shop-stand in the town of Melba—although “town” would be a generous description. Located fifteen miles south of Canton, Melba was more like a collection of shacks than actual village.
In this part of the country, though, Melba served as the last true vestige of civilization for miles. Further south was vast wilderness of forest, then badlands leading to the border of the Dark Lands. To the east, one would find the desolate emptiness of the Coldstone Desert. People living in the area commonly joked Melba was the last warning to turn back.
Eleven days before Katrina Lamont would meet Rasul Kader, there was a lone traveler making his way to Melba from the south. He rode astride a crabby old mule that seemed as unhappy about its situation as its rider. He sat hunched over on the animal, wearing a black jacket too big for him, periodically hacking his throat in a futile effort to clear it due to aggravated allergies.