by Joe Kuster
TJ glowered at the woman’s pitch-black eyes. “Swear to me that you won’t try to escape or attack us, and I’ll have her move back.”
“I… I swear. I…” She gave a terrified whimper.
She’d closed her eyes tight and had turned head as far as possible from Faith.
“Say it,” TJ demanded.
“I swear I won’t try to escape or attack you,” she said quickly.
A heavy pressure settled into the air, and TJ latched onto her bindings. A golden band wrapped around the woman’s neck and wrists for a few seconds, then faded.
Her eyes went wide with shock.
“You just swore a divine oath. I wouldn’t suggest trying to break it. My patron isn’t merciful to those who have wronged me,” TJ growled.
More for her benefit than his, he raised his head to the sky. “Lady Serina, smite the ever-loving shit out of her if she does something stupid, but if she’s just thinking about it, give her a jolt or something.”
With that, he sent a request to Faith to shift back to her feline form and keep an eye on the gold. He didn’t want to risk a passerby taking advantage of the situation. There was an inky blur as the shadow cat’s form twisted, and the additional limbs disappeared. Faith gave him an honest to goodness eye roll as she trotted over to the sack to stand guard over it.
Soft.
You should eat her.
TJ suppressed a shiver. His little monster had looked like something that not even the bards telling horror stories around the campfire could come up with. He didn’t know why she’d given herself giant fangs of shadow other than to look scary, but if that was why, it sure as hell had worked.
He shook his head, then released his force barrier. The thief’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider as she watched the cat slowly saunter away as she held her tail high in the air and flicked it back and forth.
The woman’s jaw tightened, and her hand curled into a fist. The bond of the oath sang with a sharp crackle of power, and she jerked her head back as though she’d been stung.
“You fucking tricked me!” she shouted.
TJ scoffed. “That’s on you. It’s not my fault you’re afraid of spider-cat-monster-things.”
“You try routinely waking up covered in hungry hell-spiders, and you’d feel the same,” she bit back.
The rogue placed a hand to her side and gave a pained groan as she rocked into a sitting position. Before she could go any further, TJ held his glowing palm in front of her face. Her black eyes stared back in a hateful glare.
“Don’t make me explode you. It’s messy from this range, and these are new robes. I’ll make this easy; I swear to my benefactor that I won’t hurt you unless you make me, but I need to know who just robbed me,” he said coolly.
He flipped back her cowl that had been covering her head. She had a high buttoned collar that covered her chin and mouth entirely. He pulled it down to get a better look at her. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t looking at an elf. Not at all.
What he’d taken as the profile of sharp-pointed ears inside her cowl were instead the tips of small black horns.
He cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what she was. He couldn’t make out colors well in the unlit alley, but the parts of her skin not covered in grime were pale. Her eyes were solid black, and he couldn’t make out a pupil at all.
Her hair was a darker shade but seemed to shift as he looked at it. It had started as entirely black, but it was beginning to lighten the longer he watched it. Similarly, the short curl of horns on the side of her head seemed ebony-black at first glance, but they had begun to sparkle as he shifted his perspective, almost like a pattern of slow-moving smoky quartz. The small hint of skin that he could make out around her neck seemed to transition from her face’s light tone to a colored pattern, not unlike scales.
He wished he had more light. It seemed like every facet of her had something going on, from the small gold rings above her left eye that hummed with minor magic, to the tiny bulge in her lips that he assumed hid fangs.
If he ignored the sunken look of her cheeks, the layers of dirt, and the trickle of blood coming from her nose, she was rather pretty, with delicate features. Ignoring her eyes and horns, she could pass for human. But those solid dark orbs had a cant to them and were just a bit bigger than he’d have expected even if he ignored the fact that they were solid black.
Sighing, he placed his hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn’t pull back as she continued her hateful glare.
He pushed his magic into her and immediately regretted it.
Instead of the gentle flow of information that he was expecting, his senses screamed at him in a hundred angry voices. She was extremely malnourished. To the point that her organs weren’t working right, and her body had begun eating itself.
With a flare of pain as she breathed, he could feel where his dive bomb had broken two of her ribs. She had ulcerations in her stomach from some sort of parasite, and she had strips of missing skin across her back that he was reasonably sure were whip marks. She also had a strange injury at the base of her spine. It almost looked like someone had done crude surgery on her long ago, and it had ended up an infected mess that never closed properly.
There were numerous small bite wounds all over her body; each one had left a swollen blister or painful open sore. Broken shards of magic flickered on and off inside her body. It was as though she’d had a gift or talent, but it had been hopelessly damaged.
Older injuries lined her flesh. Each one of her toes had been broken beyond recognition. They were little more than deformed fragments of skin and damaged nerves. Her skull had regrown around trauma that seemed like someone had hacked the horns off her head numerous times, leaving jagged gouges in the process. Her left arm had a series of burn marks like she’d been jabbed with a hot poker. Her right shoulder also bore a nasty burn scar. The curious shape of it told him that she’d likely been branded.
She also had extensive nerve damage in her pubic mound above her still intact hymen. In two large scars that cut through her abs, someone had driven a hot knife down into her ovaries, doing significant damage. They’d also sliced off her clitoris and severed the nearby nerves, carving flesh to the bone. Scar tissue from burns covered her chest, leaving nothing but blank skin where her breasts should have been. It had at least fifteen years of deformed growth around it.
Someone had done this to a child.
He doubled over as he struggled not to throw up as his magic conveyed all of this in excruciating and profound detail. Everything he saw reeked of long-term abuse, mutilation, and a life beyond any measure of hardship he’d ever encountered. Not even the Devas had been so cruel.
Rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he battled to deal with what his magic conveyed. She was a walking testament to how brutal this shithole of a realm could be.
His magic stirred angrily in his chest. It wanted to learn a proper fire spell just to find whoever had tortured her and burn them alive. Or maybe acid, or perhaps lightning. Or a combination of all of them. His current spells offered far too fast a death for what it wanted to do.
Thrusting a hand into his pockets, he retrieved the last paper-wrapped salted fish he’d saved for bribing Faith and a small water skin. Unable to look the woman in the eyes, he gently placed in on the ground in front of her, then quickly turned away.
“Take them. Please. It’s all I have on me. Eat, drink, then we’re going walk back to my friends. After that, we’re going to have a very long chat over some food,” he said.
Ignoring the rogue, he began to gather his belongings while Faith stood guard. Her eyes stared behind him, and he assumed she was watching the burglar. TJ couldn’t bring himself to worry about her trying to escape as his mind still fought with the intimate details of her trauma. Every cut and every bruise told a detailed story of pain, and he couldn’t keep from replaying the experience in his mind over and over - one little piggy at a time.
A small voice pulled him from his torment.
My fish?
TJ sniffed and shook his head. “I’ll get you another. She’s starving.”
The cat studied his face, then glanced back to the woman. She then stared at TJ’s face as he wiped at his watery eyes.
Understand.
Sorry, Master.
I return?
He gave a short nod, and the cat leaped, her wings carrying her into the air.
Taking several deep breaths, he crammed down his feelings and tried to focus on what he could solve. The alley was narrow, dotted with potholes, missing cobblestones, and bits of trash. Amid a cluster of profane graffiti, he noted a crudely-scrawled message of ‘Amalay — Gone but not forgotten. N.O. forever.’ Another said simply, ‘Fuck the Nobility!’
Leaning down, he plucked his signet ring from the pile of horse leavings. He found his crest in a collection of tall grass along with a fistful of coins. A few of the gems were hiding among the uneven cobblestones.
As he glanced around, he realized the scope of the problem. The bag had exploded, and it might take an hour just to track everything all down. Dipping into his magic, he created an invisible servant and set it to work.
Coins began to float from the ground to the bag one at a time, while he began picking up the spilled contents on the other side of the alley. After a quarter of an hour, he felt the spell end. He hadn’t found anything in a bit, and he assumed his magic had finished the job. Trying to be careful, he gave the ground another pass. When he was reasonably convinced that he had everything collected, it all went back into the sack.
Slinging it over his shoulder, he made his way to the woman. She’d pulled her hood up and buttoned her high collar again. She was also staring daggers at him.
Not sure how else to start the conversation, he said, “I’m TJ. My familiar’s name is Faith.”
The bond sang with another small shock as she recoiled like she’d been slapped.
“Don’t. Please. Serina is going to keep poking at you. My goddess has nothing better than to do than keep an eye on me, so it’s not like you can slip away where she won’t notice,” he said.
Pointing toward the street, he said, “Come on, we’re heading back to my inn to talk.”
“Don’t fucking wanna. Said I wouldn’t escape, didn’t say I’d cooperate,” she grumbled.
The words knocked TJ out of his morose mindset and into the here-and-now. The things that were screaming in his mind were old news to her. It was likely all she’d known, and she still held her head high.
As soon as Faith had removed the spider-like appendages, she’d only been stoically angry. The woman had somehow survived her torture and had no problem backtalking even though she knew she’d lost the fight. She was no broken, cringing mess, she was just scared of giant demon spiders, and he couldn’t exactly blame her. He’d have been sprinting his ass off in the other direction if he’d been on the other end of that, and he didn’t particularly mind spiders.
TJ gave a small laugh despite himself. “Well, I could throw you over my shoulder and carry you. You couldn’t fight back. Or… I could just start walking that way. If you get too far, I’d consider you trying to escape. Then… zap.”
“Ah, shit. You’re really gonna do this, aren’t you?” she complained.
TJ replied, “Talk to you? Yeah. I am. I’ll get a meal or three into you while I’m at it. I already promised on my power that I won’t hurt you unless you force it, so let’s go.”
“You’re picking a fight you can’t win. You’re supposed to hand me to the guards. Then I escape. And if I don’t escape, the guild springs me. And if they don’t spring me, they pay my fine,” she said.
TJ pondered that for a bit then gave a shrug. He started walking, not checking if she was following.
He got about forty feet away before he heard hurried footsteps, “Are you insane, cocksucker? You’re just going to have your bitch of a…”
There was a strained gasp, and the woman fell to the street. TJ slowed, waiting for her to get back up.
With an angry huff, the woman started running to catch up.
“Serina is actually really nice. Just don’t insult her, and don’t be an ass to me. So… got a name?” TJ asked.
She gave an angry growl. It had a disturbing level of depth to it, as though she were something summoned from a pit realm. TJ pondered that tidbit and decided it might be possible.
On the long trip to the city, Rachel had explained that her realm had quite a bit of inter-dimensional portal traffic. That was the leading speculation as to why it had so many cursed beasts, since no one knew where they came from.
People appearing out of thin air around Larton didn’t happen every day, but it happened at least a few times every season. Abby had called it a hub, not that anyone understood what that meant. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to explain further.
TJ’s magic gave him a nudge. Not a sharp stab, but more of a gentle reminder.
Nodding inwardly, he focused on the binding that the woman had agreed to. He tried to push some healing over it but found her unfamiliar anatomy challenging to focus on while it was in movement. He could have forced it, but it would introduce a chance of him screwing up the job.
“If you want to be healed, I’ll have to touch you,” TJ said.
She gave an angry huff. “I’d rather break a stick off in your ass.”
“I broke your ribs, that can’t feel good. I want to fix them,” he replied.
Her only reply was a scowl.
Seeing that was as far as he was going to get, they continued in silence. The soft flap of Faith’s wings overhead told him that she’d delivered the message that he was safe, then returned to keep an eye on things.
To the east, the sky had begun to lighten. It left the city in a gray-blue glow. In a few windows, he could see lamps burning, but foot traffic was almost non-existent. Occasionally a rider on a horse would tromp by, but they remained alone on the streets.
TJ didn’t know where he was going, but he could reach out and feel Abby and Rachel, which was better than a compass and map. He could tell that they were near each other, and he could occasionally feel them reaching out to him in turn. Thankfully, after they had both sensed he was heading their way, they didn’t seem overly worried.
As the inn came into view, someone blew a whistle. Looking to the sound, he found six of the royal guard all looking his way.
He raised his hand as they closed within a few hundred feet and repeated a greeting he’d heard others use, “Ho, the guard.”
“Ah, fuck. It’s those assholes,” the woman muttered too low to be heard by anyone other than him.
TJ asked, “Know them?”
“Skippy is the one on the right and keeps trying to make me blow him. When I refuse, he just kneels on my neck until I’m unconscious. If I’m lucky, he just pisses on my chest before I’m thrown in lock-up. But… sometimes it’s the other stuff, and the others let him get away with it,” she grumbled.
TJ nearly missed his step.
He’d been hoping to find out who plotted to have him robbed, then hand her over. He hadn’t considered that the city guard would do something like that.
Her casual complaining about it made him assume this was a common problem. Likewise, the guard in question had a knowing smirk that left TJ with little doubt about her words.
TJ complained under his breath. “What the fuck is wrong with this world?”
If he ever got around to governing his county, he was seriously debating forcing an oath on every single guard and soldier to keep stuff like that from happening. Then he could let Serina smite each and every one of them if needed.
He just wanted to fuck and frolic while he worked out a way of getting back to Serina, but shit like this was getting in the way. He wondered if he’d have to end up assaulting the guard before breakfast. It was no wonder the Duchess had made that sound like a commonplace occurrence.
“Greet
ings, Count Skyridge,” the man in the lead said with a bow.
The thief swore. “C-c-count? I… ah, fucking hell.”
The man gave a deep sardonic laugh. “Just figuring out that you’re swinging for this one, bitch? The guild can’t pay off something like this.”
“Stole a signet, no less. You’ll be in the public stocks for days. We’re gonna make sure your neck ain’t the only thing getting stretched,” one of the men said with a cold chuckle.
TJ forced a fake smile in place as he cursed internally. “Gentlemen, the danger has passed, but I’ve yet to find out who arranged the crime.”
Each of the grinning idiots in front of him shifted to an identical blank stare.
“Uh, sir?” one mumbled.
TJ nodded seriously. “I don’t believe this was a crime of chance. I need a proper investigation to identify the culprits behind it.”
“Investigation?” one asked, scratching at his head.
TJ rubbed at his temples. He had no idea what the laws of the land were, much less how misdeeds were handled. With how these six had reacted, he assumed it was less about solving crime and more about severe punishments for whoever they happened to catch in the act.
To be fair, he understood very little about law enforcement. Everything he knew was from tales being told at the tavern or some of their more popular plays. A few local storytellers had some great ones about how a genius detective would use obscure clues to track down killers, but he guessed that this realm didn’t operate that way.
TJ explained, “Yes, an investigation. I have her under oath, and plan to find out who sent her. I’ll follow the trail from there.”
Eyebrows shot up at that. So much so that TJ wondered if he’d seriously overstepped. An idea scratched at the back of his mind as he recalled an essential detail about why his county had been ungoverned.
Going for broke, he tried, “She stole not only my signet but my royal crest. I have no proof that she didn’t make imprints of them as she fled, only to hand them off to another. Her accomplices could be issuing forged tax stamps in my name at this very moment. That makes this a high crime. One of such severity that I’ll be working with the Duchess directly to resolve the matter.”