She pried up one lid and held it out to one of the Bloodbears. "Get this back to Journeyman Darreth. Have him trace its origin."
"Yes, Master Gold." The man bowed and hurried away.
At her nod, Ustin popped the other three lids, revealing canvas-wrapped packages covered in an off-white powder. "Keeper's teeth." She whistled. "That's a bloody lot of Bonedust."
"Aye," Ustin replied. "But it's what's in the other barrels that nearly made Aldsmor piss in his breeches."
"I didn't—" Aldsmor's unruly beard and wild hair shook as he protested.
Ilanna ignored the sputtered protest and studied the two barrels that stood apart from the four containing the Bonedust. In truth, they were rundlets, half the size of a typical beer barrel, but made of steel rather than wood. They also featured the same unusual mark as the wooden barrels, branded into the metal rather than painted. When Ilanna opened the lid, she hissed at the brightly-colored, viscous liquid within.
"So I'm right?" Ustin asked. "It really is Serenii fire?"
Ilanna's stomach tightened. The alchemical liquid known as Serenii fire produced a jade-green flame that burned hotter and brighter than any wood fire. Worse, it couldn't be put out with water or sand. It simply consumed everything in its path, burning out once it depleted its fuel source. The Bloody Hand had used it to burn Old Town Market to the ground. The blaze had taken her house with it, and nearly killed Ria and her son in the process. Thanks to Ria's quick thinking, the two of them had gotten out alive, but the girl still bore the scars.
So what the hell is more of the damned stuff doing in Praamis?
Two alchemists in the city had sold the liquid years earlier. A few polite visits from the Master of the Night Guild—accompanied by a few Serpents and Bloodbears—convinced them they were better off finding an alternate revenue source. If the Bloody Hand was bringing Serenii fire into the city, they were getting it from somewhere else.
Perhaps the same place where they are getting the Bonedust.
All her efforts had failed to uncover the origin of the narcotic. She knew it came from up the Stannar River, and that the Bloody Hand was smuggling it through secret warehouses like these. But that was all she had discovered.
She stared at the dazed Voramian. He didn't look clever enough to find his arse with both hands and a full troop of scouts to guide the way, much less manage this operation. Still, the Serpents and Scorpions would get answers from him. Not many, but the more information she had, the better.
For now, she had the problem of the Bonedust and Serenii fire to deal with. A simple solution, this one.
She turned to Ustin. "Get rid of it. All of it. Throw it in the river."
Ustin's eyebrows shot up. "All due respect, Master Gold, but that seems like a bloody waste." He gestured to the wooden barrels. "That's at least a few thousand imperials in Bonedust, maybe more if we can sell it to the nobles of Praamis. Surely it wouldn't make sense to—"
"Ustin," she said in a quiet voice, "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. You have your orders."
The big man hesitated. For a moment, he seemed about to argue. He studied her, as if weighing up her reputation and position as Master Gold against her size and the fact that she stood alone in a room filled with Bloodbears, all easily twice her weight.
Ustin was one of the "old crew", a Bloodbear from the time before she became Guild Master. The House had hated her because she had killed Sabat, an apprentice. They didn't care that he had beaten her, broken her, and raped her. All that mattered was that she had killed him and gotten away with it, due to a lack of evidence. Those enmities didn't die easily.
"I'm just saying," he said, his words slow, hesitant, "it's good money you're wasting."
"I know." She spoke in a voice as hard and edged as her sword. "But money isn't all that matters. Come with me."
Without waiting, she swept from the room and climbed the stairs. After a moment, she heard the creak as he followed.
She led him into the main room and stopped in front of the huddled mass of girls. "Look at them," she commanded.
Ustin complied, his expression grim.
"Now," Ilanna snarled, "imagine that was your mother, your sister, your daughter."
"Don't have no daughter," Ustin muttered, a weak attempt to argue.
"But if you did, is that a fate you would want for her?" she snapped, her voice rising in anger. "Enslaved, mind ravaged by Bonedust, body sold to any man with a few copper bits?"
Ustin dropped his eyes.
"Look at them, Ustin!" Ilanna shouted. Though the Bloodbear towered head and shoulders over her, he flinched at the intensity of her fury. "Is this worth a few thousand golden imperials? Condemning these innocent girls to this manner of suffering? Surely even you are not that cruel."
Ustin shook his head. "I-It's just that—"
"Or could it be that you just don't care?" Ilanna glared up at him. "Has the Night Guild turned you into an unthinking, unfeeling monster who would rather earn a few coins at the cost of these girls' dignity?"
"Dignity don't put gold in our pockets," the Bloodbear muttered. "Dignity don't pay our dues to the Guild or put food in our bellies."
Ilanna fought back the urge to lash out. The huge man was ruled by the same mercenary greed she'd tried for years to stamp out. Her efforts had led to the improvement of the Night Guild, but some men never changed.
"Then take this." She drew a purse and hurled it at his face. "This will more than cover the cost of your services."
Face bright red, Ustin stared at the floor. He made no move to retrieve the fallen purse.
"You may not agree," Ilanna said, her voice low and dangerous, "but remember who is the Master of the Night Guild and who is the Journeyman."
Ustin lifted his eyes to meet hers. Momentary defiance flashed there, replaced a moment later by grudging acceptance. "Of course, Master Gold," he replied in a submissive tone. "Your orders will be carried out immediately."
"Good." She gripped his arm as he moved away. "Remember, Ustin, the old House Bloodbear—the ruthless, self-serving, violent thugs who once were—is gone. Your mission is to serve and protect the people of Praamis. Especially people like these women who cannot protect themselves."
"Yes, Master Gold," he said, bowing.
She released his massive bicep, and he disappeared down the staircase.
A Journeyman wearing the white-trimmed robes of House Hound slipped through the shadows of the warehouse toward her.
"Did you get them all, Henley?" Ilanna demanded.
The Hound's eyes slid away. "No, Master Gold. One managed to escape in the chaos. Killed Eskal in his flight."
Ilanna clenched her fists. "Damn it!" She allowed her anger to show, but kept her sorrow hidden—they'd have time to mourn later. She'd tried her best to minimize casualties on her side. In eight years of raids, they'd lost fewer than twenty Journeymen. Every loss stung. She was the reason Eskal was dead. Worse still, his death meant one of the thugs had escaped.
"But I've already dispatched half a dozen of my best Hounds to track him down," Henley said. "Master Fox has provided squads of Foxes to watch the city gates. Wherever he goes, we will find him."
Ilanna nodded. "Good." She hoped he didn't hear the grief in her voice. "Journeyman Darreth will settle your accounts once it is done. Day rates, of course."
"As you say, Master Gold." Henley bowed. "You've always treated House Hound fairly."
And how did House Hound treat me not too long ago? Ilanna bit back the angry retort. During her years as a Journeyman of House Hawk, a Hound had blackmailed her, lied to her, and ultimately betrayed the entire Night Guild by siding with the Bloody Hand. He had paid for his treachery with his life—the memory of the night she killed him still haunted her nightmares—but even now she couldn't truly forget the fact that the entire House Hound had joined forces with the Bloody Hand. Neither could they, which explained their eagerness to curry favor with the Guild Master.
"What
should we do with them?" Henley motioned to the girls huddled against the wall.
"Bring clothing, food, water, blankets, anything else they need. Get the ones in dire need of care to Tyman now, and bring the rest to the Guild before dawn."
Henley frowned. "Such a large group will surely be noticed by the Praamian Guard. Certainly word of tonight's activities has reached Duke Phonnis by now."
Ilanna shrugged. "Duke Phonnis and the Praamian Guard will not interfere with us. After all, we are doing their job for them."
Henley raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"Get them back to the Guild, Henley. All of them. See them taken care of."
With a bow, Henley hurried away to comply.
"So one got away, eh?" said a voice behind her.
It took all of Ilanna's willpower not to flinch.
"Hounds are tracking him," she replied through gritted teeth. She hadn't heard Errik's arrival; the Serpent had an uncanny knack for moving in utter silence. "But we got the rest."
"Thugs, pimps, and hired hands." Disgust filled Errik's voice. "The real leader was probably the only one clever enough to escape."
Ilanna nodded. "Bring them all to the Viper-Pit and get them to talk."
The Serpent shrugged. "Doubt they'll know much, but I'll extract what answers I can."
"Good," Ilanna said. "One of the girls upstairs said something about an antidote. At least, I think she did. She's in bad shape."
"Antidote?" Errik raised an eyebrow. "For the Bonedust?"
"That's my best guess."
Errik's brow furrowed as he studied her.
Ilanna glanced down at the blood spattering her clothing. "It's not mine."
His face relaxed. "Ria?"
"Upstairs. She's doing what she can to keep the girl alive until Tyman works his magic." She gave him a feral grin. "And, by the Mistress' own luck, a prize fell into our laps."
Errik's eyebrow rose. "Oh?"
Ilanna chuckled. "You're going to love this." Motioning for him to follow, she climbed the two flights of stairs to the upper room.
Lord Illiran climbed to his feet as she entered. He'd managed to buckle his trousers and regain some of his composure. His chest puffed up in the pompous air nobility in his position adopted when speaking with the “common rabble” and he stared down his long hooked nose. "Now, see here—"
Ilanna slapped him, a blow meant more for insult than injury. "What did I say, Lord Illiran?" She drew her dagger and waved it before his face. "I told you I had no intention of killing you, but I feel my mind changing."
Hand pressed to his cheek, the nobleman stared at her, stunned.
"I can, however, be convinced to let you walk out of here with everything left intact." The blade of her knife pointed toward his crotch. "In fact, I'm willing to be very reasonable. Or, as reasonable as you will be generous."
"G-Generous?" Lord Illiran stammered.
Ilanna nodded. "What is it the priests of Garridos tell us, my lord? 'The Apprentice rewards those who give to the needy with a pure heart free of avarice.' There are close to thirty of the truly needy gathered below. I believe a donation of five, no ten, golden imperials apiece would bring the Apprentice's most bountiful reward on your house."
The nobleman's eyes went wide. "B-But this is extortion! Blackmail of the foulest sort!"
Ilanna shrugged. "Call it what you will. I like to call it 'payment to keep my mouth shut and not tell King Ohilmos that Lord Illiran was working with the Bloody Hand.' You know his feelings on the matter."
Lord Illiran blanched. "Working with…" His jaw dropped, and fear filled his eyes. "I will admit to taking pleasure here, but certainly not—"
Ilanna's fist to his jaw cut off the rest of his sentence. "I'm certain you'll have a chance to plead your case before the King, Lord Illiran. Unfortunately, something tells me you'd rather this matter remained a secret. And I fear a formal trial is such a public affair." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Who knows what other secrets would be uncovered?"
Lord Illiran swallowed hard and gave a jerky, desperate nod. "Very well!" he cried. He took a step back and bumped into the wall. "You will have it."
"How truly kind-hearted of you, my lord," Ilanna said in a cheerful voice. "My friend here will be happy to escort you safely home and see that all the required funds are delivered to their destination. Alas, despite our best efforts, we have yet to drive out all the truly vile elements from Praamis."
Illiran's eyes darted to Errik. The Serpent stood with his back against the wall, twirling a pair of throwing knives between the fingers of each hand. The nobleman's gaze followed the blades until Errik tossed them up, caught them, and sheathed them in his belt with one smooth motion. Illiran flinched as Errik stepped forward.
The Serpent only gestured toward the door. "This way, my lord."
With a venomous glance at Ilanna, the nobleman left. Errik shot her a mischievous grin before following. A moment later, jeers and shouts echoed from the warehouse below. The Journeymen had clearly recognized Lord Illiran.
Ilanna turned to Ria. "How is she?"
The dark-skinned girl shook her head. "I do not believe she will live to see the morning." She pressed a hand to the girl's forehead while checking her pulse with the other. "The Bonedust has weakened her heart."
Ilanna came to stand beside Ria and squeezed her shoulder. "How long?"
Ria didn't look up. "Soon." Tension knotted her muscles, and she spoke in a voice of controlled fury. Ilanna had rescued her in a place much like this one. Clearly, she still wrestled with the memories.
"We will stay with her, then."
With a nod, Ria sat on the bed and leaned over the emaciated figure. She sang, the same haunting melody she had sung to Kodyn when he was a child. Though Ilanna didn't understand the words, in Ria's native Ghandian, the mournful tune needed no translation. She clasped Ria's hand and closed her eyes, waiting for the dying girl to take her final breath.
Chapter Two
Ilanna sank into the plush chair with a tired sigh and rested her feet on the massive wooden desk that had belonged to her predecessor, the former Master Gold. She needed a few minutes of rest before—
"Ah, there you are, Guild Master." The grating voice of Darreth, her aide and former Journeyman of House Scorpion, cut into the silence of the office.
Ilanna opened her eyes to see the slim, sharp-featured man rushing toward her, a stack of parchments and a leather-bound tome clutched in his long fingers. She held up a hand. "Darreth, I've had a bloody long night, and haven't slept in two days. I'm not going to stare at another of your Keeper-damned ledgers until I get some food, rest, and something strong to drink."
Darreth tsked and fidgeted with his spectacles. "But Master Gold, there are important matters to discuss before the Guild Council meeting tomorrow."
As ever, his eyes failed to meet hers, instead hovering just over her right shoulder. His body quivered with a nervous energy and his fingers never stopped moving. He had his quirks, but they didn't stop him from being a capable administrator. On the contrary, he was the real mind that kept the Night Guild running smoothly, the ledgers balanced, and the coins flowing in and out of the Guild's coffers. Sadly, he insisted on trying to get her to do her job as Master Gold—a damned inconvenience at the moment.
"Does it have anything to do with that coat-of-arms-looking symbol I sent back?"
Darreth shook his head. "I've set a few Scorpions to digging, but it'll take time. I can tell you straight off that if it is a crest, it doesn't belong to any noble of Praamis I know of. Perhaps a member of a minor house, or from another city. Either way, I won't have an answer for you immediately."
"So be it." She rubbed her eyes. "These 'important matters', then, are they something you can handle for me?"
The Journeyman harrumphed. "I've already handled everything I can, Guild Master. If I could distract you from your play long enough to pay attention…" He trailed off, making no attempt to hide his displ
easure at her lackadaisical attitude toward what she considered the "mundanities" of her position.
She raised an eyebrow. "You know, Darreth, for an aide, you've got a lot of attitude."
Darreth snorted. "For a Guild Master, you seem to find an awful lot of ways to distract yourself from your true duties." He sighed and set the stack of parchments on the table in front of her. "I've made notations on everything truly vital for you to know. Read over these and sign them. Before your next adventure, if you please."
Ilanna gave a theatrical groan.
Darreth rolled his eyes. "If you need me, Master Gold, I'll be right outside. Perhaps some food and drink would improve your mood?"
"My mood was just fine until you brought me this bloody paperwork." She waved him away. "But yes, do have food and drink sent in."
"As you wish." With a bow, Darreth shuffled from the room.
Five minutes of mind-numbing work later, Ilanna wished for the thousandth time she'd never accepted the position as Master Gold. She'd done so with the hopes of improving the Night Guild, but who knew there would be so much drudgery involved?
Her eyes wandered the finery filling the office: the colorful oil painting of Praamis hanging in an oak frame, the plush couch, thick carpet with its intricate details, and the ornamental sconces that almost made her forget that the walls were hard-packed earth. The trappings of Guild Master came with too heavy a burden.
She shoved the paperwork aside. If I have to deal with one more Keeper-accursed balance sheet, I'm going to murder someone. Thankfully, she had a few Bloody Hand captives she could vent her anger on.
A knock sounded at her door. "Come in," she called. The sight of Ria brought a smile to her face.
The last eight years had treated Ria with a great deal of kindness. Her dark skin seemed to glisten in the soft glow of the alchemical lamp, giving her an exotic appearance further enhanced by her long nose, full lips, and kinky black hair. Thanks to Tyman's ministrations, the burn scars on her face—courtesy of the Bloody Hand's attempt on Ilanna's life—were only visible in direct light. She moved with a willowy grace that had grown more predatory in the last years, since beginning weapons training with Errik and his Serpents.
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