Weapon of Fear

by Chris A. Jackson

  Laughing, she bustled off again.

  Dee dug into his dinner. His tongue tingled at his first bite of the spicy potato soup, but cool wine quenched it nicely. Thick gravy drenched tender mutton and a mound of stewed greens. He sopped up the excess with slices of crusty warm bread, and only slowed when his plate looked like it was ready to put back in the cupboard. Picking a tart from the desert plate, he nibbled, but his belly was already too full. Looking around, he saw that the merchants had apparently gone to bed. Aside from the stableman, who busied himself tidying up, the place was empty.

  “I know these way inns get an imperial charter to get started, but how do they make a living out in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Likely family run. No mortgage, no rent, and no employees to pay. Ain’t bad land hereabouts, so they probably have a plot to farm, a few sheep and chickens.” Paxal stuffed a huge piece of mutton into his mouth and chewed. He didn’t seem inclined to more conversation, but those had been more words than he had said to Dee since they started. The old man had no problem chatting with innkeepers or stablemen, and Dee had seen him carry on a half dozen simultaneous conversations tending bar at the Golden Cockerel.

  Dee sighed. They couldn’t go on like this all the way to Tsing. “Paxal, we’ve got to talk. I know you don’t like me, but—”

  “Don’t dislike you, just don’t trust you much!” the innkeeper barked.

  “What do you mean by that?” Dee bristled. “If you think I intentionally—”

  “Doesn’t matter what you intended. You were set up and fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

  Dee gritted his teeth. He didn’t like to remember the way he’d failed Mya. “You’re right. I screwed up. But Morin’s dead, and Mya kept me on.”

  “Mya’s the forgiven’ sort. Always been that way.” Paxal frowned. “If I thought you’d learned something from it, I might—”

  “You think I didn’t?” Mya had trusted Dee with her most private correspondence, and he had failed her. She could have killed him, but instead, she had given him a second chance.

  The old man looked up with a curious expression, then back down at his plate. “Maybe you did at that.”

  “You’ve known Mya longer than anyone, haven’t you?”

  The innkeeper slathered butter on a slab of bread and took a bite, a faraway look in his eyes. “She was just a skinny girl when I first caught sight of her hanging ’round the alley behind the Cockerel. Skittish as a stray cat she was.” A smile twitched his lips, then disappeared. “She reminded me of…someone, so I let her work for scraps and a cot.”

  “The word is you sent her to the guild.”

  Paxal shot him a glare from under bushy eyebrows. “Word from who?”

  “Come on, Pax.” Dee spread his hands. “Mya’s the youngest Master the guild’s ever had, and you think people don’t gossip about her? They gossip about you, too. The Golden Cockerel’s more than just an inn, after all. It’s been Mya’s headquarters for years.”

  “That’s just good business.” Paxal quaffed his ale. “She pays more rent than she ought for what I do.”

  “She owes you.” Dee chuckled at Paxal’s glare. “She cares for you. It’s obvious. And everyone knows you care about her. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

  “You think I’d leave her fate in your hands?” Paxal’s sarcastic snort took the sting out of the sarcastic comment. He pushed his plate away and sighed. “Look, I know you care about Mya, too. I think you’re just a little…green is all. Maybe you think you’d do better if you was out here alone instead of having an old man slowing you down.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Dee shook his head. “You’re not holding me back, Pax.”

  Paxal met Dee’s eyes and nodded. “All right. I know Mya, and I know Tsing, if we don’t find them on the road. You know guild business and how she operates.”

  Dee nodded. “And I know Lad, too, to a certain degree. Between the two of us, we’ve got a better chance than anyone of finding them.”

  “And we will.”

  Heartened, Dee picked his tart back up and took a bite. The flaky crust melted in his mouth, the flavor of apple and cinnamon burst delightfully on his tongue. He wiped away the sweet juice dribbling down his chin with a napkin.

  “How well do you know Tsing?”

  “Born and raised there.” Paxal sat silently for a moment before continuing. “It was a good place once. Good and bad, like any city, I guess, but you could make your way. I had the hopes and dreams of a young man. Opened an inn, got married, had a daughter…then things went bad.”

  “What happened?”

  “The emperor died, and the new one took over. There was trouble and… Someone broke into my inn, and…my wife and little daughter were killed.” Paxal hung his head.

  “I’m sorry, Pax. I ask too many questions.”

  “No, it’s all right.” Paxal rubbed his face, then sipped his ale and sighed. “Just been a long time since I thought of it, is all. That’s who Mya reminded me of at first, my little Nance. But Tsing’s rotten through now. It’s no place for Mya. She’s too afraid.”

  Dee stared slack-jawed at the older man. “Mya? Afraid? That’s the last thing I’d think of her.”

  “Shows you don’t know her like I do.” Paxal finished his ale and picked up his apple tart. “She was so scared when she was little, you could see it in her eyes. You’d twitch, and she’d shrink back like she expected you to backhand her. Don’t think she had much of a childhood.”

  Dee tried to reconcile Paxal’s description with the strong, vital woman he knew. They didn’t mesh. “She certainly doesn’t show it.”

  “I gave her some advice, but not what your rumors say. She needed to feel safe, and I told her to be safe you had to be strong. That if somethin’ scared her, she had to learn to fight it.” Pax chuckled wryly. “She disappeared, came back a few days later with a pocket full of silver and a dagger on her hip. She’d joined the guild. Not quite what I had in mind, but it worked out okay.”

  “How was dinner?” The landlady approached, smiling down at their polished plates.

  “Delicious,” Dee said, and Paxal patted his belly contentedly.

  “Good! Docey’s told me that you’re leavin’ before dawn. I’ll have porridge and hot scones for your breakfast, and pack you a cold lunch. Docey’ll have fresh horses ready.” She picked up the plates and nodded to the washroom. “Your bath’s drawn, and there’s soap and towels laid out for you.”

  “Did I say you were an angel of mercy?” Pax pushed himself up from his chair. “Make that a goddess. Thank you, ma’am.”

  Dee grabbed the room key and his saddlebags, pleased with the way the evening had turned out. “Don’t take too long, Pax. I’d like to wash up before bed.”

  “Can’t promise to hurry. These old bones need a good soak.”

  “Well, soak them fast. We’re on the road before daylight.”

  An hour or more must have passed before the light beaming from Lady T’s sitting room dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened, again and again. At last, all the lights were doused.

  Mya retrieved and donned her clothing, then made her way to the front of the house. She’d thought long and hard about the best approach. Smashing through Lady T’s bedroom window would be satisfying, but might also get her killed. The guildmaster of the Tsing Assassins Guild surely protected her doors and windows with traps. She’d settled on a more direct approach. It had worked once, why not again?

  As Mya strode up to the front door, the two guards there pulled heavy cudgels from their belts.

  She stopped a step away, well within reach. “Mya here to see Lady T.”

  “The lady’s not home.” The Enforcer’s face remained admirably blank.

  “Oh?” Mya considered for a moment that he might be telling the truth. Hoseph could have whisked her off to who knew where. “Then I’ll wait for her to come back. Open the door.”

  “She won’t be back until morning
.” He blinked and his eyes flicked away from hers.

  Nope, he’s lying. “Then I’ll wait until morning. Open…the…door.”

  “I…can’t let you in. Orders.”

  “Ah, now at least you’re telling me the truth.” Mya put her hands on her hips. “I’m giving you new orders. Open the door. Now!”

  The speaker glanced to the second guard, but his companion seemed quite content to let his partner call the shots. The guard licked his lips, a fine sweat breaking out on his brow. “If you come back in the morn—“

  “Do you like your testicles?”

  “What?” The man’s eyes narrowed, the cudgel twitching at his side.

  “I asked if you like your testicles, because if you continue to stand there being stupid instead of doing what I tell you to do, I’m going to tear them off and stuff them up your nose. Now, open the door.”

  “Cocky bitch,” the man muttered beneath his breath as he turned to unlock the door. He’d probably intended it to be inaudible, but Mya heard it.

  “Yes, I am. Remember that next time.”

  The muscles of his face tensed as he turned his key in the lock. Pushing open the door, he stepped out of her way without another word.

  Mya strode through and found herself staring down two loaded crossbows. If the man and woman holding the weapons were guild members, they couldn’t shoot her, but Lady T might have hired some non-guild killers. She wasn’t going to take any chances. Mya raised her hands in surrender, but kept walking forward.

  “Now just be careful with those—” When she came within reach, Mya lunged and snatched the two crossbow bolts from the weapons. By the time either of them could even blink, she had the bolts reversed and the tips under their chins. “Where’s Lady T?”

  The two stared in shock down at their impotent weapons and the deadly shafts that could end their lives. The man swallowed hard and lowered his crossbow. Mya smelled the telltale scent of urine. Evidently, she’d startled him rather badly.

  “Relax! I’m not going to kill you unless you don’t tell me where your mistress is.”

  The woman lowered her crossbow and reached for an ornate rope pull on the wall. “Lady T’s gone to bed, but I can call—”

  “Uh-uh!” Mya pricked woman’s chin with the needle point of the crossbow bolt before she could touch the rope. “You’ll call no one—either of you—and you’ll answer my questions. If I ever find out that you lied to me, I’ll turn you over to Master Inquisitor Lakshmi for her apprentices to practice on. Now, where’s Lady T?”

  After the barest hesitation, the woman said, “In bed.”

  “Yes, you said that. Where’s her bedroom?”

  “I can—”

  “Just tell me!”

  “On the third floor, down the hall to the left.”

  “That’s her sitting room.” Mya wondered if she was being led astray.

  “Yes. You have to go through her sitting room. Once inside, there are two doors to your right. The first opens into her bedroom. The second goes through her dressing room.”

  “Is she alone?”

  “I don’t know.” The woman looked to her partner.

  “No company that I know of.”

  She wondered if they even knew of the well-attended meeting an hour ago in the lady’s sitting room. “Is there anyone else lying in wait for me?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Mya dropped the crossbow bolts and dashed up the stairs three at a time.

  She approached the door at the end of the hall silently and stopped to listen, her senses straining for any sign of alarm or ambush. She heard nothing through the door, not the scuff of a shoe, a heartbeat, or breathing. The coast seemed clear. Thumbing the latch, Mya eased open the door. The sitting room where she had met with Lady T stood empty, though she could smell the scent of several competing perfumes. She stepped into the room and faced the two doors. Listening at the first, Mya heard the soft, steady breathing of a single person at rest.

  It’s time to answer for your insolence, Lady T. Mya opened the bedroom door and stepped through.

  The faint click of metal on metal was her only warning. She started to turn, but too late. The door frame exploded in a shower of splinters, and the broad head of a spear plunged into Mya’s side, grating between her ribs. The impact slammed her against the opposite door frame.

  Mya looked down. The shaft pierced her just beneath her left breast. There was no pain, of course—the magic of her tattoos prevented that—but that didn’t prevent her from feeling queasy at the sight of being impaled. The room spun, and her knees started to fold at the sudden wave of weakness. The spear had struck something vital. Not her heart, for that would have killed her outright, but certainly a major blood vessel. If she passed out from blood loss, she would die within minutes.

  “Light!” Radiance blossomed from a glow crystal beside the bed, and Lady T lurched up from beneath the coverlet, a crossbow in hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of Mya pierced and bleeding, then one eyebrow lifted in a wry expression. “Perhaps that will teach you to knock.”

  Anger burned away Mya’s weakness, and her lips twisted into a wolfish grin. “Perhaps not.”

  Mya gripped the spear and pushed the shaft out of her chest. The mechanism hidden in the wall whined in protest, but its gears and springs were no match for her strength. The bloody head of the spear grated from between her ribs, followed by a spurt of bright red blood before the wound closed. With a twist and a jerk, she snapped the hardwood shaft off at the door frame.

  “Gods and devils!” Lady T stared, her useless crossbow dropping to the floor.

  “You once asked me how I killed four blademasters.” Mya brandished the bloody spear as she strode across the room. “Let me show you!”

  “Wait!” Lady T scrambled back. “I didn’t…”

  “Didn’t what?” Mya pinned her against the wall, fingers tight around her throat, the spear’s bloody tip an inch from the noblewoman’s eye. “Just try to kill me? It sure seemed like it!”

  The guildmaster’s voice came as a strained hiss. “I didn’t know you were coming! Of course I have protection. I have enemies.” She clutched Mya’s wrist, but couldn’t push her away or strike.

  Mya hesitated. As much as she hated to admit it, the lady had a point. Mya had her own security measures back in Twailin, but mostly relied on secrecy and a building full of loyal Hunters watching her back. She could have let someone escort her up to the lady’s room and knock on the bedroom door, but Mya had been angry, wanting to make a grand entrance. She’d been a fool to blunder in, and that mistake had nearly cost her life.

  But I’ll be damned if I let her know that! She loosed her grip on Lady T’s neck so quickly the woman had to steady herself against the wall to keep from falling.

  “I gave you two tasks: implement my changes to guild operations, and set up Hoseph so I could kill him. You’ve done neither! Instead, you expand your own operations and cozy up to Hoseph.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Declare you Grandmaster?” Lady T rubbed her throat, her eyes flicking to the bloody spear still in Mya’s hand. “Hoseph would pop in here while I slept and murder me.”

  “Then you’re in a tough spot, because I’ll murder you if you don’t!” Mya waved the tip of the spear under her nose for emphasis. “You won’t cooperate with me, but you seem to be cooperating with Hoseph, plotting to murder the crown prince.”

  The guildmaster’s eyes narrowed. “How…”

  “I have my sources.” Let her stew about how I found out. Mya knew killing Lady T wasn’t the answer, but she had to convince the woman to cooperate. “First things first: why did you expand your extortion rackets north of the river?”

  “The future is uncertain.” Lady T shrugged, regaining a bit of her composure. “I want to build up a financial cushion to hold us over until things settle down, and extortion is what we know.”

  Mya began to pace. “Protection rackets take time to pay off. The upper classe
s are begging to be fleeced, and you’re ignoring them. With the current unrest in the city, you could be raking in gold by selling security services to your noble friends and rich merchants. That alone would provide the income you need to weather this storm. Think of what you could charge your rich friends for the services you use yourself. Enforcers guarding the doors of every noble house and fancy shop in the Heights will make you filthy rich.“

  “You got by my guards easily enough.”

  “That’s because I’m me.” Mya quirked a dangerous smile. “Back to the subject. I gave you a detailed list of the changes I wanted. We’ve used these kinds of operations in Twailin for five years. They work.”

  “And you think Hoseph won’t notice?” Lady T donned a robe from a clothes tree beside her bed. She looked less terrified now, but her eyes still followed the bloody spear.

  “Frankly, no I don’t. He’s too busy trying to murder the crown prince to notice what’s happening on the streets!” Mya stopped and regarded the woman. Something didn’t fit here. “If you fear him so much, why don’t you kill him? You’re an assassin!”

  Lady T folded her arms and pursed her lips in annoyance. Mya wondered if the pursed lips were one of the lady’s tells, and made a mental note to watch for it.

  “And if I miss, I’m dead.”

  “Then set him up for me.” Mya dropped the bloody spear onto the fluffy white coverlet, earning a glare from the guildmaster. “All I need to know is where and when.”

  “He flits around like smoke on the wind. I don’t know when he’ll pop in or where he sleeps. In order to set him up, I’ve got to make him trust me. That’ll take time.”

  “Time…” Mya thought about her dwindling funds and wondered if Lady T was playing her. “Make it take less time.”

  “I can’t promise anything.” She folded her arms and pursed her lips again. “If I learn where he’ll be, how do I let you know? Where do I send a message?”

  Oh, you’re good. She wasn’t about to tell the guildmaster where she was staying and risk a midnight visit from the murderous priest. “Hang a handkerchief in your bedroom window, and I’ll contact you.”