Stanna looked back. The girl had been hurt by life. Stanna understood that sort of ache. “The He-Kisshi? They’re the Undying?”
Temmi nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes.”
Stanna looked at her carefully, appraising her words and their merit. “How do the women know that?”
“Because they are all servants of the gods and the gods tell them things.”
“Let them go!” Stanna ordered.
Rhinen, a large man who served her and very nearly always obeyed looked her way and scowled. “There’s not much of a profit in that, is there?”
Stanna shook her head. “We keep them, we die. We let them go, we have a chance.”
“That direct then?”
“That direct, Rhinen. I’ve no desire to die for a profit I don’t need. It was Beron who took all the risk on this one.”
Rhinen arched an eyebrow. “I’m getting paid the same either way?”
“Aye. You signed on with me and I honor my debts.”
The man nodded his head and promptly started unshackling the chains of the women he had been cleaning for the auction.
He said, “I get paid, I do the work you ask. It’s just that easy.”
“I knew I liked you for a reason.”
Stanna looked back to Temmi and nodded. “Would you tell them they’re free then?”
Temmi called out, and the woman she’d been speaking to looked at Stanna and signaled her agreement. Within ten minutes the last of the women had been released from the shackles.
They did not stick around to see if anyone would change their minds. One of them called out to the rest, then they were all running toward the river in the distance.
She handed Temmi ten silver crowns, more than sufficient for her translation fees. “You did me a good service, lass.”
“I’d advise you to move on from here and soon. The gods are likely going to seek out judgment on someone. I’ll be leaving with my friends. We have plans for Edinrun.”
“Torema is more my sort of city, but aye, we’ll be moving on soon enough.”
The girl did not count the money Stanna gave her, but waved once and headed back to where she’d left her companions.
Beron would be furious. Stanna found she did not care. Fight an army? Certainly. Fight the Undying? She could not spend if she was dead. That was the end of the discussion. And if Beron didn’t like it, he was welcome to settle the argument any way he liked. She had seen him fight and watched his style. She could take him.
In the shadows, not far from where she stood, she thought she saw a cloaked figure standing watching. She shivered. When she turned to face the form spotted from the corner of her eye, it was gone.
On a whim more than anything else, she followed Temmi. The girl was interesting, and she found she wanted to know more of her and more of what she had learned about the pale people and the demons they served.
* * *
The human child stumbled into the alley with both hands clutching at her savaged throat.
Ohdra-Hun caught the squirming girl-child in its claws and lifted her until its mouth clamped on the back of her skull. Teeth set to work, thick lips suctioned to her head and the He-Kisshi’s tongues pulled the sweet gray substance from her skull.
It was wounded, but the wounds were minor. The worst of them already healed. Still, it ate the flesh of the little girl, the better to speed up the healing process.
Anger was a tool. Now and then Ohdra-Hun forgot that fact and let the anger hold the reins. It had lost its way when the humans escaped and killed it. It had grown sullen and angry because the gods were also sullen and angry, and sometimes the He-Kisshi felt the needs of their masters too keenly.
Still, Ohdra-Hun would find those that got away and punish them, because the gods also understood that sometimes honor must be defended. That was why they wanted the interlopers. That was why they wanted the men who killed their Grakhul. It was not because they needed those particular people sacrificed. It was because they were offended that anyone would interfere with them.
The gods understood Ohdra-Hun’s anger and allowed it.
“You!”
Ohdra-Hun turned at the sound of a human female screaming and watched as the creature came forward. It dropped the small child’s body.
The female was old and bent at the back, dressed in rags. She hobbled toward the He-Kisshi with what could have passed for malice in a younger human.
“What have you done?”
Most tended to back away from the He-Kisshi when a warning was offered. “Leave here before I destroy you.” It spoke with little malice but turned to face the old crone, the better to let her see what she spoke to. A casual glance saw a human in a hooded robe. A closer examination did not make that mistake. Ohdra-Hun made sure to rear up properly to show the inside of its “hood.”
Instead of fleeing, the woman backed away and let out a shrill whistle. Her left arm shook and a long blade slipped into her hand. Despite her age, she had nimble fingers.
“You would threaten me?” The anger came back, a tidal wave of fury. Ohdra-Hun stepped closer, reached out and grabbed the old woman by her neck. She tried to gasp, but Ohdra-Hun’s fingers crushed down, claws slicing easily into the flesh at the back of her neck.
The first arrow drove deep into the muscles between Ohdra-Hun’s shoulders. It screeched, but did not let go of its prey. Instead it looked around and swung the old woman in its grasp. The He-Kisshi were called many names, among them the Undying. They were also called faster than the wind, stronger than steel and savage. Ohdra-Hun saw the arrow coming and used the old woman as a shield. She shuddered as the arrow pierced her lower back. She’d have screamed if she could, but her airway was ruined.
Still, she drove her blade into Ohdra-Hun’s wrist and it felt its grip on her loosen.
Looking around it saw humans coming from the alleys and from the rooftops, all of them armed and ready to defend one of their own. They would kill if they could. So would Ohdra-Hun.
The next arrow came down like a lightning bolt and drove into the side of Ohdra-Hun’s head. The point went through meat and struck the host body it surrounded. Deep within Ohdra-Hun’s body, the sacrifice that gave the He-Kisshi true life jerked and thrashed. She would not last long against a sustained assault.
Ohdra-Hun did not flee. Instead it called upon the elements and attacked. The winds came from everywhere and roared through the alley. Arrows in mid-flight were thrown aside and the fools standing on the rooftops learned how powerful a weapon the wind could be as they were hurled through the air and then dropped.
Long fingers reached out and Ohdra-Hun focused the power of the storm. Rains crashed down in heavy sheets, instantly soaking each person in the alley. Where there had been winds, a sudden calm fell and brought with it a fog too thick to allow mere humans sight. They chattered among themselves, suddenly afraid, as they should have been from the beginning.
Ohdra-Hun did not take its slights as lightly as its brethren. While they stumbled in the sudden fog, the He-Kisshi moved among them, claws groping and cutting at fragile, human flesh. The poor wretches saw only with human eyes and were limited to two. Ohdra-Hun saw colors they could never understand, and saw with a hundred eyes. A boy stumbled close to Ohdra-Hun and it reached out, crushing the skull between its fingers until it ruptured like an overripe fruit.
Blood flowed from the wound in its back, from the wound in its head. There would be no more wounds. Ohdra-Hun had a mission from the gods and it would serve as it was meant to.
Still, there were offenders to kill and it took its time hunting them down through the fog.
* * *
“I’ve no bloody idea where this madness is coming from.” Rik shook his head and moved through the alley by memory as much as by sight or any other sense and Tully was right there with him. To say she knew the alleyways and gutters of Hollum was to say she knew the shape of her hand. She had dealt with both for just as long.
The fog he spoke
of had come from nowhere and come in fast. Fog didn’t happen that often in Hollum and even when it did it normally stayed near the riverfront.
“Rik, I need to be gone from this town and soon.”
“You’ve said that four times already. I told you, I’ll take care of you.”
They’d grown up in the same coven, that is to say, the same group of orphans. They were siblings in all but blood. They’d been trained by the same teachers, fed by the same cooks and paid their allegiance to the exact same masters in the Union of Thieves.
Rik said he’d take care of her. Niall, despite his nervous nature and penchant to browbeat himself into submission, actually had taken care of her. For all the good it had done. They were as hunted as before.
“Rik, you can’t take care of me. Not in this case. I’ve very deadly things after me and I don’t want to draw their attention while I’m here. I have enough problems in Hollum without that.”
“I should say. Theryn wants you skinned alive.”
“I didn’t take the box from her room.” Tully shook her head and did her best not to look guilty. Her innocence be damned, at the thought of Theryn she felt guilty in her soul.
“And yet you know that’s why she wants you dead.”
“I told you, the Grakhul took me.”
“How did you get away? What do they really look like? Is it true they drink blood?”
“I slipped the chains they caught me in and ran. Had help from a man named Niall. If he hadn’t been there, I’d be dead.” She shrugged. “They look like, well, they’re like everything Theryn used to warn us about. And I don’t know if they drink blood, but I’d not be surprised. They can fly like bats.”
“Gods. I hate bats. Creepy little bastards.”
“These are closer to seven foot tall and creepy. And they have claws.”
Rik made a face that expressed his revulsion better than words ever could. He’d never been much good at talking, unless he was telling stories of how much he’d managed to get from a careless person with a large purse. Rik was a cutpurse; Tully preferred to burgle.
Somewhere nearby a cat made a noise and an instant later a rat let out a scream. It was not an unusual pair of noises in Hollum.
The sun was up. It was closing in on noon, but Rik had kept Tully moving with a promise to help her gather her belongings. He’d stolen most of them when Theryn came calling. The woman would have claimed them as tithings, and Rik was good enough to know that Tully would have never left her possessions behind by choice. None of them would. They worked too hard to earn them.
It was a sign of trust that he led her to his home. It was a sign of being a thief that he led her there through a dozen back alleys and roads he hoped she would never remember. They were family, but only a fool trusted a thief.
Finally, they reached a door that was barely visible in the fog.
Rik didn’t bother to knock, but was very careful when he opened the door. One never knew.
Tully followed and felt the fine hairs on her neck rise. Rik was family, but there was something amiss here. She just couldn’t figure out what it was yet.
The stairs led up to the third story of the building he called home. The apartment was small, just as she would have expected. Thieves seldom made enough to have a larger place and even if they could afford it, they’d never consider renting one. Might as well ask to be burgled.
Rik stepped out of her way and let her see the inside of apartment at the exact same time she realized what was wrong. He hadn’t unlocked a door or unset a trip wire.
“Shit, Rik. I can’t believe you.”
“Don’t blame him, Tully,” came the voice from within. “I hardly gave him a choice and the reward for you is large enough to tempt anyone.”
Theryn stood in the center of the room. She had two of her cutthroats with her. Both of the dark garbed killers had weapons drawn and were looking at her as if she were a mouse and they were hunting-cats. Theryn waited to see if she would run. She couldn’t. Rik was between her and the door and if he’d turn her in for a reward he’d certainly be willing to stop her from leaving.
“I didn’t take anything from you.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.”
“I mean, I was going to try, yes, but I didn’t have a chance. The Grakhul caught me.”
Theryn was not pretty. She was not handsome but she had been once. She had an angular face that was too broad for pretty, with a very deep scar running from her nose down to her chin from a time she was caught trying to pick a pocket and failed. Though she was bundled up and wearing leathers, Tully knew that Theryn’s body was muscular, hard. She had seen the woman walk up the space between two buildings to a height of almost fifty feet in a matter of seconds. That was because she was incredibly strong and skilled enough to manage it. Tully had tried a few times and succeeded twice. She normally carried hooks and ropes for that reason. She was not anywhere near the physical equivalent of Theryn the Blood-Mother and she likely never would be.
Theryn stared at her with dark eyes. “Well, someone took a very large supply of my gold and made off with it. Same day, you leave town. The Grakhul had you, you’d already be dead. I know. I’ve seen them take our kind before.”
It was like speaking to a stone. The words fell on ears that would not listen. “I escaped! Gods, I’ve had one of the bastards after me ever since. He’s been hunting me like a fucking hound.”
Theryn barely ever blinked. She asked, “If I did believe you, who would I blame for stealing my gold? Who would have had a reason besides you?”
“Why would I steal from you, Theryn? What possible reason?”
The Blood-Mother answered, “To prove that you could. To pay me back for demanding tribute. To make me look weak in front of my children.”
“I’m one of your children. I’ve always been faithful.”
“You’ve challenged me a hundred times, Tully.”
The two assassins were still standing in the same spot, but they’d relaxed just a bit. Most every soul she’d met would relax when tongues started wagging.
“Course I’ve challenged you. You told us to challenge you and everyone else who would try to stop us. All my life that was the lesson you offered.”
Those hard features softened just a bit. “Aye, and you learned it better than most. Tully, my girl, I don’t want to punish you, but you’re the only suspect that makes sense. You left town and came back when you were done spending what was mine, it’s the only tale that fits.”
“Spent it on what? I’ve barely clothes to my name. My boots are the wrong fucking size.” She hauled up her shirt enough to show her belly and ribs. “I’ve not been feasting on pastries and meat pies, I can tell you that bloody much.”
Rik said, “She’s a point there, Theryn,” and immediately flinched when Theryn looked his way.
There was one door. There were two narrow windows. They were on the third floor and Tully had no idea at all what was beyond those windows. Could be a lovely balcony. Could be a wall close enough to touch. Could be a fall to the damn cobblestones thirty feet down, and while she was a good sneak she had no desire to see if she could land like a cat from that sort of height.
There was no way to find out, with three people between her and the windows. Rik she might be able to handle – though he had blades and she did not.
She managed not to jump out of her skin when she felt Rik’s hand touch hers. The package he settled was worn, soft leather. She knew the feel of it well. Her fingers took the collection of knives and thieving tools and much as she wanted to kiss him just then, she knew that would get them both killed.
So instead, she spun around and kicked him in the guts as hard as she could. Tully was small, but she was also muscular and her foot in his stomach sent Rik falling down the stairs in a clatter.
Theryn cursed and started forward. Her cutthroats charged like dogs let loose from their pens and Tully turned and ran down the stairs, her eyes on the steps, her hands mov
ing over the leather packet her brother had saved for her and given back in her hour of need.
Rik was wincing on the stairs, holding his belly and coughing very convincingly. He had rolled as he fell and likely wasn’t badly hurt, but he had also saved her life and she doubted that not in the least.
She hoped he wasn’t hurt. She hoped his fall convinced Theryn.
She hoped that the next time she came to the miserable fucking town of Hollum she still had a brother left to thank.
Tully hit the street and ran, moving through a fog too thick to see through and hoping it concealed her from the Blood-Mother and her assassins.
It did not.
Tully felt a pain spike into her calf and fell down, stifling a scream. She saw the blade and pulled it out as she rolled across the cobblestones. What Rik called a stinger, just large enough to trip a person and cut the meat of the leg, but not enough to bleed them badly.
Another thing to worry about. Now she had to hope it wasn’t poisoned.
She was back up and running and heard Theryn’s tread behind her. Tully had been raised by the woman. She knew the sound of her walking, the sound of her breathing. She knew she was as good as dead for fleeing.
“There you are,” said Theryn.
“I’ve found you,” said the Undying at the same moment, as it lunged through the shadows for her.
Tully twisted sideways, ducked low, slid in the muck and bruised her backside, but managed to squeeze between the two nightmares trying to end her.
Theryn let out a squeak. As a rule, the Blood-Mother did not squeak. The Undying seemed to have that effect quite often. The alley she drove down was filled with obstacles that were shadowy and hard to see in the heavy fog. Tully hurdled what she could, crawled over what she had to, and did not once stop to look back. She’d been a burglar for years and she could move when she had to. The wound in her calf hurt, but not enough to make her stop running.
Behind her, the sounds of combat began.
* * *
The Last Sacrifice Page 25