“Are you okay?” Dryston asked.
“Yeah,” Kyra said, soaking up the mayhem that was left in the room around her. “As far as this can be considered okay.”
The dwelling was splattered with blood, like in a slaughterhouse. The hairs on the back of Dryston’s neck stood up, and a tingle passed over the back of his head. The image made him dizzy as his senses tried to compensate for what he was experiencing. There was no rationale for it. It was simply something the civilized human soul was not programmed to see.
Kyra gestured to the two dead bodies punctured with bolts. “We were too late for the deserters.”
Her gaze wandered to the tattooed girl cowering on the bed.
“And who are you?” Kyra said.
Dryston and Kyra went over to her and offered their hands. The girl only took Kyra’s.
“What’s your name?” Kyra asked.
The girl covered her body and let the tattoos disappear under her tunic.
“Skadi,” she said, looking at the dead bodies on the floor. “My name is Skadi. Did you get the other man? This wasn’t all of them. I counted three.”
Dryston turned, uncovering his mouth as the smoke increased. “What did you say?”
“There was another man,” Skadi said.
No time for details. They had to get out of here and vanish without leaving traces behind.
“The smoke will kill us,” Kyra said. “We have to go, Skadi. Try to hold your breath.”
Dryston looked back into the room and instantly knew he had only one chance to find out who the third man was.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE SURGEON’S HOUSE
JADE WAS LOST in the burning house. Some unexpected turns, the dense smoke, the intense scent of burnt wood and people fleeing in every direction had broken Jade’s connection as the rearguard for her friends. She wrapped a piece of cloth around her mouth and tried not to inhale the poisonous vapors. Pearls of sweat had formed on the skin of her arms. Above the distant noise of mayhem and disorder breaking loose, she could hear the constant crackle of fire eating through the walls.
“Lady,” a voice said to her, when she had thought herself alone in the corridor. “Why are you not running?”
Jade jerked at the sudden appearance of the man, who tumbled and held onto her.
“First, because I’m not afraid of dying, and second, because I still have friends here who might be,” Jade said.
“Friends?,” the man said. He looked at Jade’s weapons, ready to be drawn, and was not convinced. “You sure they are friends? I learned a long time ago to trust no one.”
“Do I look like I care what you think or learned?” she replied and pushed him away from her.
“Well, I at least hoped that…”
Jade felt something snap from her belt. The man had taken one of her potions. He drank it greedily and turned to run.
“Hey, you stupid idiot!” she cried out and dashed after him, hands outstretched. She missed him by a hair’s breadth. The man was up and running, taking a turn behind the next corner.
Jade swore as she lost sight of him and chased after him through the burning hallway. Behind a doorframe, she bumped into the man. His fingers grabbed the flask and were about to lead it to his lips. Jade elbowed him and struggled to wrestle it from his grip. “You can’t drink this! This would have made your life even more miserable than it is now.”
The man’s eyes narrowed like a hurt animal’s, as he handed her the flask back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to.”
“I am not what you think I might be,” Jade cut him off, stashing the potion away into her belt. “These are neither pleasure drinks nor beauty enhancers. They would have killed you with heart failure or at least knocked you unconsciousness. And then I would have been stuck here with your limp body, not sure if I should let you be consumed by the flames or pull you out of this hellhole.”
“You really wouldn’t have been sure?”
“I would have left you for sure, if I only knew you better. Now get the hell out of my face!” Jade shouted.
Her blood was up. She was ferocious. It didn’t bring her temper up because she was stolen from, but because her potions were mistaken for water or spirits, when in reality they had the potential to kill someone she didn’t necessarily have the intention to kill.
Her eyes watered from the burning house and her anger. She watched the man run away and touched her eyes. Her fingers came back black, with her eye-shadow forming dark tears. She had become such a death-dealer by now that even the innocent in her proximity were at risk of becoming victims of her medicine.
“God, this would have been the last thing that I needed right now.” Jade sighed.
The bald man threw her a last frightened look over his shoulder and stumbled away.
THE ROOF OF THE BURNING HOUSE COLLAPSED, the huge mass of wood and clapboard falling unnaturally slow as if time had frozen. Kyra supported Skadi out into the courtyard. The girl was beginning to shiver from shock and the cold. The night had set in and let the fire burn bright in her eyes. Sparks floated through the cold air like blossoms, and the flickering light let Skadi’s tattoo on her back glow in a rhythm that seemed like the dragon was actually breathing. Kyra covered the girl’s back and looked to the sky. It was cloudless tonight; not a single star could be seen above them. A black cloud of smoke obscured the night sky under which Dryston emerged behind them, carrying one of the assassins.
Cormack took over the fugitive, his face grim in the anticipation of the report of what had happened.
“Are you all right?” Kyra asked and looked Dryston in the eye. “You’re bleeding.”
“Well, that’s embarrassing,” Dryston said. “And I wanted to make sure I looked my best when I met you again.”
Shouts of alarm and the gathering guards interrupted their moment. The barking of dogs echoed through the streets, drawn to the beacon that was the smoldering building. Soon, all hell would break loose when the bodies would be found and the manhunt for the culprits of the fire and murder and those involved began. Dryston realized with a frown, that they counted at least as the latter.
“Where is Jade?” Thaena asked.
“I don’t know,” Dryston answered. “Wasn’t she behind you the whole time?”
“I lost her,” Thaena said.
“We have to leave,” Dryston told her. He earned stares from Thaena and Cormack that he returned. “We need to find a place where we can lie low and attend to our wounds. Jade will have to get by on her own for some time. Then we have to prepare him for interrogation.”
The fugitive moaned.
“Is he one of our targets?” Cormack asked.
“No,” Dryston said. “He’s the one who killed them.”
“Hm, so we can be thankful to you for not succeeding in our mission.” Cormack’s grip grew tighter around the man’s throat. “You know what that means? It means that I ain’t getting the money to pay for the armor I was going to buy. Which means I’m not going to make the cut with the group I wanted to join. And lacking that higher status, I will have a harder time with… You see where this is going? It is going somewhere that doesn’t make me happy, and you are a big part of it. Know how it feels to have a dream shattered by a fool who got in the way? I’m quite pissed right now that you killed them, let alone attacked my friends!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Kyra saw town militia hurrying to surround the burning building. In the meanwhile, the hasty movements of their striped trousers and gleaming helmets were applied to extinguishing the fire. Soon enough, when most of the damage was contained, they would take their halberds back up and spread out.
The fugitive’s eyes showed an uncertainty about on which side his chances to live would be higher.
“Tell you what, I don’t even know you, and already I’ve had enough of you. You are two heartbeats away from making me lose my temper. So, decide wisely which steps you’re going to take next. You want help? Go ahead! If
you call out for the guards, I’ll strangle you right here.” Cormack spat through gritted teeth to shatter any illusions.
“Cormack,” Dryston said. “It’s good. We take him with us, and you will get your chance to let your fists speak. But not now, and not here.”
“I take that as a promise.”
“Follow me,” Skadi said. “I know a place where we can get him to talk.”
IN A DARK ALLEY, Jade met the man from the burning house again.
She strode down a lane past the guards that were directing a flow of refugees. With her mace stashed under a robe, and flowing with the stream of people, she was able to leave the main route quickly and unnoticed.
Then she saw him. She slowed her steps, unsure how to approach. His gaze met hers, illuminated by the glow of a cigarette.
The man nodded in his pulled up collar, exhaling smoke.
“Glad you made it out alive. Though judging from the content of your flask, I can imagine which profession you follow now. I promise I won’t tell the militia about you; just please don’t hurt me.”
“What is your profession?” Jade Cyrus asked, sitting down beside him and spreading her hands to a small campfire on the street.
“Mine?” the man said. The thought raised a thin eyebrow on his face. “I’m just a merchant. Came here to do business, close a deal, and meet back with some partners. They aren’t here yet.” He paused and stared into the fire. Something must have gone wrong. “Where are your friends?”
She didn’t know, but she told him nonetheless what they were coming for: two men, missing from Jarnsaxa Ornsdottir’s warband.
“You seem tense.” Jade stopped to make sure the man was even listening. “Is everything all right?”
“Still shook up from the events, I guess. It doesn’t happen every day in a merchant’s life that the roof of a building collapses over him. Only happened once in that Alvaeonian bazaar, when the other party wanted to rob me of a deal. But it was nothing compared to that tonight.” The man looked up into her eyes, fixing his thoughts on another subject. “No, I guess it’s your proximity. I won’t lie. I’m a little bit scared of you, but on the other hand, intrigued. I think I can understand you.”
“You do?”
“I think you act so tough on the outside because you are broken inside,” the man added. “It is an act to hide your true self and not make you vulnerable. That’s why I know you won’t hurt me. I don’t need to be afraid of you. You are the one who is alone. Your friends, they left you,” he said. He let the words sink in.
He put a hand on Jade’s cheek then ran his fingers through her hair. Jade didn’t object. Her breathing rose, but whether out of anticipation or fear, she didn’t know. “You have to be careful in this city,” the man said. “This is only the outskirts. The center is run by Jarl Godfrey. You might have heard of him. For whatever reason, he gathers an army of prisoners. He prepares for the end times. Quite paranoid about that. I mean, the end won’t come quick. And it won’t be something that a thousand soldiers will be able to protect us from. It will be more stretched out over a long period of time, so that we won’t even realize it. Just everything will decline, but we won’t see it. This is what makes it dangerous. We will just keep telling ourselves that it is what it is till our last breath. Like it has been since the day we were born. Almost like drops of poison in our body that kill us every day a little but not at once.”
She broke his gaze and stared at the ground. It reminded her of her own priorities and what she had to do. She caught a flicker of something on the other side of the street out of the corner of her eye. She felt the urge to stand up and walk right over to what she had spotted, but her gut made her cautious.
“I would like to be alone right now,” she said.
“Are you sure?” The man returned. “I mean, you already are alone.”
Jade nodded, deciding to not look at him till he left.
The man reluctantly shrugged his shoulders and stood up.
“If you need someone you can talk to, I’m sure we’ll meet again sometime,” he added, as he walked away.
When he was out of sight in the next street, and had merged with the shadows of the buildings, Jade went over to the other side of the alley and crouched down.
THERE WAS BLOOD ON THE STREET, a dark red smear with some brighter tissue. It was still running and fresh when Jade put it on her fingers. It was unlikely that one of the refugees had injured himself during the flight that deep in the flesh, and no other people had frequented this part of the alley recently. No, these were traces of a fight, and the only people fighting around here would be her friends.
A KNOCK ON THE DOOR brought Doc Sage out of his sleep. It was after midnight, and the surgeon’s house was closed for patients at that time, except for cases of emergency. Surely this would be just a minor injury or someone needing his help. The profession just never left him. It caught up with him even in his sleep. That oath he had sworn many years ago when he was young and idealistic and eager to change the world had been bound to his life since then. Doc Sage descended the steps cautiously and made sure not to wake up his kids. He opened the peephole and saw a young woman standing outside.
“HELLO, DOC,” the girl said with a bashful smile. “I could use some help.”
“Who are you?” the doctor asked.
“Some years ago, there was an incident in Fellthorpe. Do you remember?” Skadi said. “I lost my whole family there. You mended my broken arm. My name is Skadi.”
“Ah, yes,” Doc Sage said. “Are you alone?”
The girl looked left and right before nodding.
“Well, come on in, then.”
Skadi was not the first to enter. A brute stepped inside, filling the door frame and towering above the startled doctor.
“Sorry to interrupt your night, Doc,” the brute said, his voice as low as possible. He shoved a tied up man with a broken nose into the surgeon’s home. “We got a wounded.”
Two other women and a man followed swiftly behind. They were all bloody and smelled of smoke.
“Hey, who are these people?” Doc Sage asked.
Another man closed the door behind them, and they let their backpacks drop onto the floor.
“They saved my life,” Skadi said. She stepped in front of the fugitive and added, with a disrespectful grunt, “From him.”
“We should inform the guards,” Sage said.
“Always the same reaction from civilians”, the lean man said. “Relying on the government to help. I’m Dryston of Decia, this is Cormack and Thaena. They have learned over the years like me that we all have to stand on our own.”
“After calling the guards!”, Sage said.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Cormack said.
“Two men were not so fortunate,” Dryston said with a menacing glance. “We need water and surgical tools.”
“Surgical tools?” Doc Sage said. “I object to how you treat this man.”
“Your objection is noted,” Dryston returned. “Am I understanding it right that your wife and children are asleep upstairs as we sepak? And that she wouldn’t be amused to be woken by a crowd of bloody refugees occupying her kitchen and living room in the middle of the night?”
“You are.”
“Good. Now please, bring us these items.”
SAGE LET OUT an unbelieving sigh.
Skadi touched his shoulder. “How would you feel if he tried to kill you?”
Sage nodded after a while and turned to get the things. He realized by now that this nightmare would be over sooner if he helped them.
Forget his apothecary’s oath for a moment, this was a criminal, and he wouldn’t do himself any good calling the guards on that matter.
He stopped when he saw his wife standing on the steps from upstairs. In her glance, he believed he saw a reflection of how deep he had fallen, helping the likes of them.
“Miesha, this is not what it looks like. Those are good people.” He tried to convince her as w
ell as himself.
She nodded, watching the tied up man being led away into her kitchen.
“You are a coward, letting them inside”, Miesha said.
“What else should I have done? Help me get some things.”
THE COLD WATER in the bowl turned red soon. Kyra’s hands were shaking, as she washed the blood from her mouth and out of her nose. She felt the sensations of fight and flight in her body were wearing off and only now got a clearer vision of what had happened.
She caught Dryston watching her with an expression she hadn’t known for a while, as if he cared for her.
“HOW DO YOU FEEL?” he asked.
She exhaled, clearing her airways of the water.
“I killed a man with my powers,” she said, “but it doesn’t feel like it. I just saw the picture of someone dying in front of my eyes, but it felt like I wasn’t involved. I didn’t deal a killing stroke, I didn’t cut open skin, flesh, and arteries with my blade in hand. It was no physical escalation or connection. Sometimes, in training, you feel your body working against your opponent’s. This doesn’t feel like it. You simply let magic move in its ways and release some power that is not from you or anything in this world. Just the cosmic forces of elements are at work. It is like a play you’re viewing. You are just the spectator. Do you understand?”
“I think I do,” Dryston admitted.
Self-learned magic. One of the most dangerous but prevalent forms of the arcane arts to practice. Dryston had seen past that during their previous adventures, but now it had turned more severe over the years. Kyra’s forces were getting stronger as she matured. Her emotions were becoming more intense, and whereas in the past she had stuck to one school of magic at a time, now the different branches overlapped.
Red Axe, Black Sun Page 5