Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

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Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 56

by Lindsey R. Loucks


  “No, though I have attempted to have it translated. As far as my peers tell me, the text refers to a great severance between two forces. Given the designs, it seems to suggest a battle. But alas, it is all conjecture. Though it has power, don’t you think?”

  “Power?” Surely he couldn’t hear my heart racing.

  “Something this beautiful will always have the power to lead the imagination on a merry chase. It is why I collect such things.”

  “Imagination?”

  “Fantasy, Vance. As a thief, do you not submit to fantasy now and then?”

  I unbuttoned my coat and loosened my collar. “I suppose.”

  Molly arrived, distracting me from the very real sense of history crowding the room. We sat at a fine low table while Molly poured tea and Fallford chittered about the terrible snow and its effect on the city’s businesses.

  “You know, some believe the restless gods make snow by shaving diamonds,” he said.

  There are no gods here. I heard Shaianna’s voice clear as day and turned my head toward the whispered words. Of course she wasn’t there. Just the memories of her haunted me.

  “Lord Fallford.” I set my tea down on the low table between us. “I have approached you first because of your passion for the history of an item and not merely its intrinsic value.”

  “Oh, yes, quite. It is the past that makes such items more beautiful.” He sipped his tea to disguise his eagerness. “What is it you have for me, Vance?”

  “It is a gem, but not something easily explained as such. Expertly cut so that it holds many hundreds of years in its gleam. It has a name.”

  He lowered his teacup to its saucer. “Go on.”

  “One of only two pieces, and the other is lost, as far as I know, and my sources are faultless. The Dragon’s Eye.”

  Fallford blinked. When he set his cup down on the table, it rattled inside its saucer. “The Dragon’s Eye, you say?”

  “Do you know of it?”

  “I can count myself among the few who do. It is an artifact much coveted. But scholars would have us believe it is a legend.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “It is no legend, I assure you.”

  “You’ve held it?” he whispered, leaning forward.

  Held it, dangled from the snout of the stone dragon I’d prized it from, and almost died for it. “I have.”

  Fallford's tightly restrained excitement had my heart racing. I’d kept the Eye’s existence a secret, not wanting to let it go—let her go. I had hoped Shaianna would return, but with every passing night with no sign of her at my window, the Eye demanded to be known. It was time to move on.

  “Do you have it on your person?”

  “No. It’s safe.” I paused, reeling him in. “Can I assume your interest?”

  “Assume? Yes, assume! I will need to see it, of course. Do you know what they say of the Eye, Vance?”

  ‘“Some.” For if any mage should harness it, they would have the power to shift continents, move mountains, create rivers, or destroy cities. I rubbed at the ache in my palm.

  “It is something to be feared,” Fallford said, “as though it is the key to unlocking powers we have yet to understand. Did you sense any power in the treasure, Mister Vance?”

  I opened my mouth to automatically deny it, but the hunger in Fallford’s eyes held back the denial. “I have witnessed some things that some might find difficult to explain through conventional means.”

  “Just say it, Vance. By the gods, man. Say it.”

  A tale would add value. The Eye might as well have its own myth to inflate its gravitas. “Yes, I’ve witnessed something of its power, and I know of its potential. I assure you, this is the genuine article.”

  Fallford shot to his feet and paced in short strides behind the table. “I don’t doubt it. I must see it.” He laughed. “I must have it. Do you have any other buyers lined up?”

  “One other,” I lied. I trusted no other not to speak of such a find in the taverns. “There is a condition, my lord. The Eye is somewhat … desired. I would suggest you keep its existence to yourself, at least until we have made the trade.”

  “Oh, by the Halls of Arach, this is delicious. Secrets and legends! Of course. I wouldn’t want another buyer hearing of this. You have my word.”

  “Good. Shall we discuss its value?”

  By the time I finished priming him, Fallford would have handed over his estate. As it was, the sum I’d asked for was ludicrous and would be more than enough to buy a place on the next ship and set me up for the rest of my days in a land far away from Brea, the Inner Circle, the workhouse, and regrets. I told him a time and place to make the trade and then left him with a reminder not to tell another soul of our business. If I suspected any involvement from an outside source, I’d approach my other interested party. Fallford would contain his excitement, at least until he had the gem in hand. After that, it was no longer my concern.

  I returned to my rented room, cloak and boots wet and heavy with snow, and lifted the slate in front of the fireplace, checking that the gem sat snugly inside. It did, its luster even more beautiful surrounded by filthy rags. Some things deserved to be admired. A glass case in a rich man’s home had to be better than under a stone in a thief’s one-room dwelling.

  I set the stone back into place and crossed the room to the window. Sunlight glinted off the ice-encrusted city spire, giving it a keen edge. I closed the window, latching it for the first time in thirty-three nights. It was time to let go of my foolish hope that she’d return. She had used me, the same as I had intended to use her. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Shaianna had always been one step ahead. At least, where she had won her freedom from the foolish thief, I had won the gem. So we were even. That fairness, however, didn’t fill the hollowness in my chest. In all the time I’d spent fearing her and deciphering who she was, it hadn’t occurred to me I might miss her. Somehow, behind the barked orders and cool glances, something about her had sunk its hooks into me.

  My hand lingered on the window latch. Why would she return? What was I to her? No more and no less than a thief she had found in an alley.

  The door to my room burst open.

  I spun, dagger out.

  “Vance, you’re a hard man to track down!” Tassen removed his hat and patted snow from its rim. “You’ve no idea the taverns and brothels I’ve had to acquaint myself with just to find word of the slippery Brean thief.”

  By the curious way in which he smiled and tossed his glance about the room, his search hadn’t been as taxing as his words suggested.

  “Who told you where I live?” I grumbled.

  “You know of a woman named Agatha? Yes, I see you do. She’s loyal. Her girls are not. Like most Breans, a few gems soon loosened their loyalty. The winter is hard. Loyalty is the first to go.” Tassen pointed a finger at me and kicked the door closed behind him. “Thought you could slip away from me, did you?”

  I returned the dagger to its sheath and shrugged a shoulder. “If you recall, I did.”

  “And took fifty rubies with you.” He moved from the door to the single dresser and started opening cupboards. “I’ll have those back.”

  He wouldn’t find anything. I crossed my arms. “I don’t have them. You’ll be pleased to know I spent your gems on much debauchery. Now we’ve cleared that up, if you would kindly leave, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I’ll leave, but you’re coming with me.” He shoved a drawer closed and turned. “On my search for the infamous thief, I discovered another man asking after you. He wants to meet the infamous thief who stole her heart. His words, not mine. It’s a small world for you, Vance, and getting smaller by the sounds of it. You are a wanted man.”

  My pulse quickened. The words were familiar. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  I had a pistol under the pillow on the bed—if needed—but Tassen wasn’t here to fight and I didn’t care to leave another body behind.

  “Well, that’s a shovel
of horseshit right there. You’re curious. You want to know who hired me to track your intriguing woman and who else is asking after you.” Tassen waited for me to deny it and then grinned when I didn’t. “You and me both, Vance. You want answers, and I gotta admit, I’d like to know more. A man like me, I don’t much care for riddles, but she’s got me questioning too many things. She wasn’t what she appeared to be. Ask yourself if you can live with not knowing, because I sure can’t.”

  He was right. I did want answers. I couldn’t forget about the painted wall art in Arach. Or her. And I’d tried. Many a drunken night was evidence of my efforts. “I really don’t like you, Tassen.”

  “Call it”—he circled a hand in the air, reaching for the right word—“closing the door on all that peculiar shit. I’d sleep easier in my bed knowing those things weren’t about to crawl in through my window.”

  “You want answers too?”

  “I saw impossible things. Same as you. Creatures and places that don’t exist. Yes, I well want answers.”

  “If we find answers, we part ways thereafter. You won’t find me here again. And don’t go asking after me. Understand?”

  He laughed. “Vance, why would I waste my time with you?”

  I didn’t trust Tassen, but I did know what it was like to lie awake at night listening to rats in the rafters, wondering if the mages had returned. And then there were the moments of wondering if I’d scratched the surface of something worthier than me, something too important to run from. Something far larger than my small fears.

  “This man who was asking after me … where is he?” I asked.

  Tassen tugged his hat back on and opened the door. “Reckon he said he could be found in the plaza.”

  A public place. Good. I followed Tassen out and locked the door behind me. After tonight’s meeting with Fallford, I would leave Brea, Tassen, and all of this behind. For the first time, I could escape the ghosts of the city and start anew. New continent. New name. New life. But before I could let go of the old life, I needed answers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sunlight sliced off the frozen fountain and glittered over the plaza’s snow-laden dragon statues. I hadn’t paid much attention to the architecture before, but Arach had changed my perspective, and now the statues standing guard at the corners took on an eerie familiarity.

  Tassen loitered near the fountain, deliberately hard to miss in his dark hat and riding cloak. I hung back, close to the statue near the easternmost corner, watching Tassen side-on while admiring the stone dragon. The beast, as tall as a man, stood proud on its hind legs, wings tucked in. Its snout and head—obscured by snow—pointed skyward. Perhaps its carved edges had once been sharper, but the Brean seasons had weathered away much of its detail. Still, up close, its resemblance to the larger tomb dragon couldn’t be disputed.

  I crossed my arms, fighting the urge to touch the stone. Basking in the sunlight, it would be warm despite the snow.

  “You’ve seen much since we last spoke, thief.”

  I slid my gaze to the old man standing beside me. He coughed hard, breaths turning to vapor. Wrapped in the same layers as before, he’d hardly changed at all since our brief discussion prior to my journey with Shaianna.

  He leaned forward on his cane and jerked his chin at Tassen, who noticed and turned toward us. “That man is of no consequence. Waylay him.”

  I lifted a hand, gesturing to hold him back. Tassen scowled—suspicious—but made no move to approach.

  The old man pursed his lips and regarded Tassen out of the corner of his eye. “Many greed-driven men see only what they wish to see.” He regarded the dragon rearing over us. “When we are told lie upon lie, day upon day, it becomes truth. Think, if you will, of the endless stream of water from a rock face. Given enough time, that water calcifies—turns to stone—does it not?”

  My patience was wearing thin. “Old man, you hint at things that have no meaning. I do not trade in hints.”

  “Impetuous thief.” He chuckled, dry and raspy as though his lungs were full of holes. “I was correct, wasn’t I? You stole her heart.”

  “Heart?” I spluttered, answering too quickly. “I doubt she has one.”

  “Oh, in that you are so very wrong, dear man. She has yours.”

  I breathed in slowly and counted down the seconds. The plaza was too public a place to threaten him, but I still might if he persisted with his riddles. “I have questions. Who are you, how do you know about Shaianna, and what do you want with her?”

  “Your questions are meaningless.”

  My laugh stuttered with disbelief. “You’ve no idea the things I’ve seen ...”

  The old man peered into my face, looking deep enough for my instincts to warn me to back away. “Do you have the Eye?”

  “What eye?”

  His wrinkled face screwed tighter. “Everything must have its place. There cannot be one without the other. Her dagger, the cup, do you at least have those?”

  I swallowed, feeling the guilty burn of the blade against my back. The cup was lost in the tomb. “Dagger?”

  “Do not play games with me—”

  I had my dagger kissing the old man’s throat in a blur and him shoved against the stone dragon before his withered heart could pump another beat. “Listen, and listen well, old man. I’ve been set upon and almost torn to shreds by wargs, seen things that should not exist, nearly burned along with the rest of Calwyton, and discovered places long forgotten. I know lies; I’ve been living with them all my life. Tell me who she is, or so help the restless gods, I’ll cut you here and watch you bleed out in the snow before the city guards can find you.”

  He swallowed. The dagger’s edge gripped the loose skin of his neck. I hadn’t expected him to smile, and certainly hadn’t expected a cackle to rattle up his throat.

  “The truth? She is shadow and dust, the truth in the lies. She is the last of her kind, and you … oh, you foolish, foolish thief … you set her free.”

  Tassen had jogged across the plaza but seemed to find my threatening an old man amusing, given the broad smile on his face. “Picking on vagrants now, Vance? A new low for you. Leave the man be, eh?”

  I didn’t get a chance to reply. The old man’s skin softened beneath the blade, and where the metal touched his skin, its pinkness grayed and came apart like drying sand. His cackle distorted and curled into a horrid animal scream. I recoiled as I watched him collapse in a heap. But he was just changing, twisting into those hideous nightmares. Fear demanded I run, but another desire crawled over me, hot and hungry. While the mage was caught in the throes of change, I stamped on its forelimb, yanked back its head, and plunged the dagger home, deep inside its chest. The red eyes scored me deep, slicing through to the truth, and its black lips rolled back into a lurid smile.

  “You there! Halt!”

  Tassen yanked me back. “City guards!” he barked. “Go!”

  Not needing to be told twice, I ran. Familiar streets and alleys embraced my quick retreat. Once out of the guards’ line of sight, I climbed a scaffold and took to the roofs, with the shouts of the city guards sailing up from the streets below. After navigating some snow-packed chimneys stacks, I knelt on a flat roof and cleaned my dagger in the crisp snow. Ahead, the city spire glittered, and all of Brea sparkled in the sunlight, but my thoughts had grown dark. There was only one place I could get answers; only one place that knew enough about magic to know how to quell its truth. A better man might have gone looking for that truth. A brave man, perhaps. Certainly not a selfish one. But I had a gem to sell and a ship to board. Not even for the truth would I return to the Inner Circle.

  After traversing across the city rooftops, I returned to my room and discovered I’d had a visitor. The bed lay on its side. Shreds of mattress and wool lay scattered about the room. The meager contents of my dresser were strewn bout the floor. I looked over the carnage with an odd sense of detachment. City guards or mages, it didn’t matter who was behind this; the flagstone in front o
f the fireplace had been moved. With heavy steps, I crouched beside the hearth, checked beneath the stone, and confirmed my fears. The nook was empty. Anger simmered below my thoughts, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. All things considered, I was certain I didn’t deserve this.

  What if the mages have it? Shaianna had told me of the Eye’s legend, and I knew magic could be harvested from gems. Had I just handed those creatures enough power to move the earth and destroy a city?

  I kicked through the debris of yet another fake life and strode to the window. Whoever had raided my room had known about the Eye. This hadn’t been a random burglary. They had been looking for it. Tassen, the mages, and Fallford knew for sure I had the gem. Fallford and I had already agreed to terms, and he wouldn’t stoop so low as to steal it. Tassen could have taken it, but considering the neat slices in the mattress—slices easily made with claws—I doubted Tassen was the culprit. He was more likely to barge in, guns blazing, than debase himself with underhanded thieving.

  If this was the work of the mages, I needed help.

  Molly greeted me with the same unimpressed eye roll she’d given me earlier in the day and asked me to wait in the bland reception room—not the treasure room. I was sure she didn’t want the lord’s thief eyeing his wares unattended.

  “Mister Vance, you return so soon?”

  I got to my feet as Fallford strode into the room. Dressed for dinner in a tail jacket and pressed trousers, he was a world away from the likes of me. I hesitated, but it was too late to reconsider, and he was the only person in Brea who wanted and needed the gem as much as I did. “Lord Fallford, I’m afraid there are some complications with your order.”

  His face fell. “I see.” He closed the door and approached the table. “Well, that is unfortunate—”

  “My lord, if I may speak openly and in your confidence?”

  He pulled out a chair from the grand mahogany table and sat, gesturing for me to do the same. “I give you my word, sir, whatever you say inside my walls will go no further, unless it pertains to criminal activity, that is.”

 

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