by Drew Hayes
“Stay here.” Marie’s voice was closer to a growl than words, but Lily nodded, so it seemed she had gotten the message. Until Marie knew all the kidnappers were handled, she didn’t want the other women roaming about. She was about to head down the cavern when she noticed that Jailer’s eyes were milky white and rolled back into his head. Leaning over, she listened carefully for the sound of his heartbeat, only to find that it had ceased. It was aggravating, but sometimes enough pain was able to kill someone outright.
With hurried steps, Marie made her way down the tunnel. Jack and Frank had almost certainly killed Sentry on the way in, which meant Snatcher was now their only hope for getting the bonus. She just had to get to them before they killed him, too.
* * *
Jack spotted the cloaked man sprinting down a large tunnel as he rounded a bend in the cave. He pursed his lips and let out a sharp whistle to get Frank’s attention, then motioned to the tunnel. Despite the seeming inevitability of impending battle, Jack’s hand merely held his rapier in place, rather than drawing it. He tried never to unsheathe his blade before all diplomatic options were exhausted, as a rule, because he found that once weapons were out the chances of talking through a problem all but evaporated. Of course, he also didn’t like to run with his sword out, since there was the very real chance of falling and skewering himself. Even Jack’s most idealistic attitudes were tainted by necessary practicality.
The footsteps of the sprinting man echoed through the tunnel as Jack and Frank gave chase. Their prey was fast, and clearly quite motivated, but his pursuers were tireless, one metaphorically and one literally. As they raced across the smooth stone floor, a new noise greeted their ears, one that caused Jack and Frank to push forward even faster. Through the tunnel screamed a mighty roar, one not associated with any natural beast in the land. For most, it would have been terrifying and unfamiliar, but they knew that sound as well as they knew the warmth of the sun on their backs.
Jack and Frank came around a corner to find Marie in all her hairy glory, the sprinting man clutched firmly, but carefully, in her mighty paws. With one glance at her eyes Jack knew she was still in control, and a wave of relief washed over him. He really hated to give up extra reward money.
“This seems well in hand,” Jack announced. His voice was a bit winded, but still quite merry as he surveyed the scene. “Frank, what say you and I go tend to the maidens while Marie eats her fill.”
“W…wait!” The man yelled, his voice not nearly so calm as Jack’s. “You’re going to let her kill me?”
“Don’t see a reason not to. The ladies are right there in the cage behind Marie, so we don’t need you to tell us where they are, and the reward pays out for your return dead or alive. No reason to bother the city with jailing you, especially when I’m sure our dear girl here has worked up an appetite. Besides, you can’t very well try to swear vengeance on us if you’re dead. Killing you seems like the most logical option, when all the facts are weighed.” Jack began walking toward the cage again, his lazy smile out of the cloaked man’s vision.
“Please! I can tell you things! Who hired us, where we sent the girls!” The man was panicking now as he stared at the wide, sharp teeth that filled Marie’s mouth.
Jack’s own grin stretched as he heard the cry for mercy. Had they tried to interrogate this man directly, he’d have seen his value and clammed up immediately. Making him think he was worthless, save as a snack, put the interrogation on an entirely different level, one where their prisoner was desperate to tell them what he knew in the hopes of saving his life. Sometimes Jack marveled at how situations that were intrinsically the same could be seen so differently by people, merely based on the angle by which they looked at them.
“We were paid to take you lot out and recover all the girls you had. It’s not in my contract to go save the ones you already sold off, and I don’t do any work pro bono.”
“Hold on Jack,” Frank interrupted, perfectly on cue. “If we bring him back alive they might be willing to pay us to go save the rest of them. They were quick enough with the gold on the first job; with proof of our skill I’d wager we could fetch a higher price this time around.”
Jack ceased his walking and turned, allowing both Frank and the man in Marie’s grip to see the expression of furtive contemplation on his face. He was quite proud of this expression, and he practiced it in a mirror nearly every chance he got. It was meant to convey apathy mixed with the slightest undercurrent of interest. He felt it essential to be able to dangle hope without actually making someone feel certain of their survival.
“I suppose there might be some merit to that, assuming these other maidens you took can still, in fact, be rescued.” Jack turned the rest of the way around and met the cloaked man’s eyes. “Tell me, my good kidnapper, are these young women you snatched in the dead of night still alive?”
“I…I don’t know for sure,” he stuttered. “We were never told where they were going or what they were being used for. We were just given instructions by our employer and told to deliver, not ask questions.”
It was an honest answer, Jack had no doubt of that. If the man were going to lie, he’d have surely done so in a way that offered him a better chance of survival. Plus, it told Jack something he’d already suspected: this went deeper than just three men and a cave.
“Then let’s start with what you do know,” Jack replied, all but slithering across the floor as he kept his gaze locked with the fearful man’s eyes. “If you can tell us who, or what, your employer is, then that will at least give us an idea if the maidens can be saved. A witch or warlock will have used them for parts already, while a lonely monster might be keeping them locked away to look at before ultimately eating.”
The man in cloak swallowed hard. “She’ll do terrible things to me if I tell you.”
“Then don’t tell us,” Jack said, spinning around on his heel. “You were the one who wanted to trade information for your life in the first place. If you’ve decided the deal isn’t worth it then Marie can have her snack and we can be on our way.” It was risky move, but he had to keep their prisoner off-kilter. The moment the man thought he had leverage, everything would change.
“Wait! Yes, I want to talk! Please. The woman who hired us, and the others like us, she wasn’t a witch or a monster. She was the Blue Fairy.”
It was a good thing that Jack was facing away from the captive, because not even he was able to hide the look of shock that shattered his composed facade. Behind him, he heard the man gasp for air as Marie involuntarily tightened her grip on his torso. Frank was likely the only one of them to keep a neutral expression, since he was used to maintaining a stoic, composed front.
Jack finally spoke after a few seconds of uncomfortably tense silence. “Frank, strip him and bind him. When that’s done, get Marie her enchanted clothes so she can change back. I’ll talk to the girls while we figure out the logistics.”
As much as Jack loathed the idea of giving up extra gold, it paled in comparison to the idea of letting a lead like that slip away. The Blue Fairy was one of the most powerful fairies of light in existence, one of the five lieutenants beneath the true Fairy Godmother herself. The Bastard Champions had been hunting them all for a very long time, and now, at long last, they might finally be on the trail again.
Of course, they had to finish the job at hand first. There were contracts to fulfill, after all.
* * *
Marie herded the other girls through the forest path, making sure they all stayed together and out of danger. It wouldn’t do to have someone getting hurt, or worse, with the town so close that they could practically smell the baker’s shop. The going had been rough at first, especially when Shayana and Rohesia realized that they wouldn’t be able to ride horses on the trek back. As they drew nearer, spirits began to rise, thankfully, and Marie had gone from trying to keep them moving to forcing them not to rush stupidly. Just because they could see the village didn’t mean they were out of the fores
t yet.
“If you don’t mind my askin’, what exactly are you goin’ to tell the mayor about what happened to us?” Lily had drawn close to Marie as they walked. She wasn’t whispering, instead she was acting as though her conversation were utterly banal, which was a more useful trick to keep it from Rohesia’s always-perked ears.
“The truth,” Marie replied. “We were able to rescue you, but all of the kidnappers were killed in the process. Jack and Frank stayed behind in case any others returned and sent me to bring you back and collect our fee.”
“Now I might be a simple girl from the farms, but that last gent didn’t quite seem like he’d truly given up the ghost just yet.”
“He’s dead,” Marie assured her. “From the moment he decided to deal with the Blue Fairy, he’s been dead, even if he didn’t know it at the time.”
A particularly thick pile of brush forced them to stop talking and focus on getting through the rough. Marie was thankful to be back in her normal clothes, and not just because of the fact that they would shift with her. Dresses had their place, but it wasn’t out in the woods, taking on all manner of creature that came at her.
“Is this Blue Fairy really that bad?” Lily asked once they were through. Back on the proper road trodden by horses and carts, the village sprawled out before them, open and inviting, making promises of safety that every woman now knew it could not deliver.
“She’s not the sort you want to trifle with.”
“And what is it you plan on doin’?”
“Trifling.” Marie smiled at the apprentice witch, regarding her warmly. It was nice to find another like herself, a woman whose peaceful appearance belied the current of danger running underneath. “But that’s sort of my job. Besides, we’re after some big things, the sort that only the strongest of fairies are capable of, and we’ll do whatever it takes to see that hunt through. Even if it means running after someone most wise folks spent their lives avoiding.”
“Then I wish you luck.” Lily surprised Marie by grasping her savior and pulling her into a tight hug. “I owe you for your help gettin’ us out, and I don’t forget my debts easily. If you ever need a hand, you can call on me to lend it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Marie squeezed her once back, then the hug ended and the trek back into town resumed. She didn’t say it, didn’t even want to think it, but with the path Lily was on there was a good chance that the next time they met, it would be as enemies. Not all witches were evil, or at least they weren’t ambitious with their wickedness, but more often than not all that power corrupted them from the inside out. Still, Marie allowed herself to hope that Lily would be one of the exceptions.
After the last few days, Marie could use a pleasant thought to hold onto.
The Tale of Rats and Blood
The Bastard Champions had encountered many scowls in their days, to the point where they considered themselves to be connoisseurs of the expression. As they sat in the stiff chairs, too aware of all the eyes in the room on them, they noted that the Sheriff sitting across from them, on the other side of the massive desk, had an exceptional scowl etched into his weathered face. Not the best any of them had encountered, but certainly an effort that spoke to a dedication to the craft and a man who had clearly spent time in a mirror honing his art. That bold scowl shifted its attention among them for some while, until an aide stepped through the door and handed the Sheriff a stack of pages. He perused them for several moments before setting them down on that over-sized desk.
“Mad Jack. Laughing Jack. Grinning Jack. Deathless Jack. Jack the Nimble. Jack the Quick. Jack the Perpetrator who did…what with a candle stick?”
“In my defense, I did warn the gentleman to jump or it would hurt more.” Despite the tension in the room, or perhaps because of it, Jack’s smile was as wide and bright as usual, if not more so. This hadn’t exactly been the plan going in, but they’d still ended up right where they wanted to be. Sometimes, when they were in private, the group referred to this as a “Jack Special”.
The Sheriff and his mighty scowl were not impressed by the flippancy, letting out a brief grunt before turning back to his pages. “Looks like you’ve blazed quite a trail across the lands. That’s a lot of aliases for one man, and something tells me I’ve barely even scratched the surface.”
“I’m the sort who leaves an impression,” Jack said.
“Which makes it all the more interesting that neither of your companions is turning up similar rumors. Tell me, why do I have a stack of pages with names for you, yet nothing mentioning either of these two?” He motioned to Frank and Marie, who were sitting silently. These were the moments where they leaned on Jack, since he had a knack for getting people to talk. This strategy also came with the risk of having to fight their way out of the room if he pushed things too far, but Jack’s odds tended to be around fifty-fifty, so it was better than nothing.
“They’re the quiet sort, can’t you tell?” Jack’s smile deepened. It was one of the many tools he used to keep attention focused on him, allowing the others to work more easily.
Another grunt, followed by the shuffling of papers. “Here’s what I know: we caught you three trying to ride into Deverton with a prisoner bound and gagged over the back of a saddle. He’s not talking yet, so I have to get your story first, but this could end with you facing some serious charges.”
“That man is a kidnapper and a criminal; if you allow one of us to go speak to him I assure you a full confession will be made. You can even use a truth potion on him beforehand if you fear corruption,” Jack offered. “But he is also not our real concern. He met with a person here some months back, a middleman for the target we’re actually after. We’re passing through Deverton only long enough to go to their meeting place, ask around for who saw our stranger leave, and follow his trail. If we’re allowed to go to work this very moment, we can be out of your town by sunset.”
The Sherriff was only paying half attention to Jack as he looked through more of the pages, eyes darting to Frank and Marie as he no doubt tried to pin down who they were. It was a largely futile endeavor, as Frank had little history in this land and Marie’s true identity would never be suspected of keeping this sort of company. As it turned out, however, he did find something in his perusing of wanted posters and rumors. “Well lookey here. You three, you wouldn’t happen to be the outlaws known as the Bastard Champions, would you?”
Murmurs ran through the other men in the room, the guards here to watch over these three strange prisoners. Jack paid them no mind. It wasn’t as though their company name was a secret; if anything he was happy to hear it being spread about. More notoriety led to more jobs, and being able to charge a higher fee for them.
“Outlaw is a strong word. I think you’ll find we’ve never been proven to have broken a single kingdom’s law. That’s why all those pages you’re holding that mention me don’t actually call for my arrest. And yes, we are indeed the Bastard Champions, a group of problem solvers who will tackle nearly any task, assuming one has the gold to afford us.”
They expected more muttering, maybe a few laughs, but the shift of mood in the room took even Jack by surprise. Suddenly, faces grew hard and somber. Even the Sheriff’s mighty scowl seemed uncertain as he leaned forward.
“Any task?”
“Within the confines of a kingdom’s laws, of course.” Jack’s smile said he knew this was tripe just as much as every guard in the room. To Jack’s thinking, laws were just rules passed by the powerful, and he’d never been much of a fan of rules.
“You any good at tracking?” The Sheriff’s scowl was beginning to fade as something new took its place, interest tinged with…hope? “Tracking things not meant to be tracked, maybe?”
“We have some excellent tracking skills available to us, but our world is a long, sprawling place with many people and magics. Perhaps you could be a touch more specific, and we can tell you whether or not we’d have the skills to do what you ask.” It was as polite a way a
s possible to tell the Sheriff to dole out the details or let the matter drop.
Slowly, the Sheriff laid the pages down on his desk and stared at the trio. He was evaluating them, looking in their eyes to see if he trusted them. It was a much briefer affair than normal, mostly because not long after meeting eyes with Frank he turned away. That was to be expected; Frank’s eyes were disconcerting, and not just the dragon’s pupil in his left socket. The crystal blue right eye was almost just as bad, simply because it was so beautiful that it clearly had no place on his patchwork face. Whatever the Sheriff saw in them, evidently it was enough to keep the spark of hope alive, because with a heavy sigh he began to explain.
“The rats came a month ago. Big, mean bastards that chewed their way into cellars and ate everything they could find. We tried poison, traps, even sent a rider into the nearest kingdom to pick up some magic potions, but none of it worked. Then the piper showed up. Promised that for a handful of gold he’d clear out the entire town. We agreed, with the caveat that we only paid for results. Sure enough, he put that flute to his lips and within an hour we were free and clear. It felt like the Narrative had sent us a miracle. Then he came back.”
The Sheriff paused for a moment, his face turning red as poorly hidden anger welled up. “He had some muscle with him this time, and he demanded far more than what we’d agreed to pay. Said that was just to play the flute, marching the rats away costs extra for every step. We told him to piss off, obviously, and that he’d get nothing from us. That night, some people heard the flute again. It wasn’t until morning that we realized what had happened. All of the town’s children were… He took them away, somehow. Stole them in the night. Now he wants even more gold or he says he won’t give them back.”