Hannah glanced at Parker, who gave her a slight shake of the head.
“Well, I guess we’re better with swords than your common farmer, then. We mean no ill. Will you give us—and our coin—passage into the city, or should we be on our way?”
The men conferred again, and then took two steps apart from one another. “You may pass, but if you have come to do harm, you will find our swords have a harsher bite than the pirates’, and our wills are stronger than the west wind.”
“Aye, that’s some ripe bullshite if ye ask me,” Karl murmured under his breath. Vitali watched Aysa jab him in the ribs. “What? They look like their wills are no stronger than the wind comin’ outta me arse.”
“Thank you, sirs,” Hannah replied loudly. “You will find we mean no ill to your good city.”
Hannah led the way between the men. They stood at attention and raised their arms as Sal sauntered past them, taking a second to stare each man up and down as if he were a medium-rare steak. They exhaled once the dragon had passed them, and then their eyes locked on Vitali. He was expecting shock or awe, and he wouldn’t have blamed them. In most human eyes, he was some kind of freak, like a man dressed in a costume on stage for the circus, but these guards didn’t look surprised. They looked worried. Like they had dealt with his kind before and had come away lesser for it.
That’s impossible, he thought. We’re thousands of miles from Kaskara.
Passing through the gates, Vitali expected the place to be alive with activity. He hoped to become invisible in the crowded streets and marketplaces. Instead, the crew was met by near-silence. The promenade from the gate to the center of the town was almost empty. Only a few pedestrians were on the brick pathway, all of them scurrying with their heads down.
Karl grunted. “Aye, not the party I was expecting fer a few days off the damned boat.”
“Yeah,” Parker agreed. “Something’s off. Kind of reminds me of—”
“When Adrien really turned the screws on Arcadia?”
“Exactly,” Parker answered. “Only then the Guard would be on the streets. Nobles. But this is just plain eerie.”
They walked on, each of the warriors on high alert. Vitali’s senses were tuned in, his keen sense of smell and hearing searching for anything out of the ordinary. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all, which was, in and of itself, a little weird. In a city of this size, there was always something to set off his senses.
Rows of buildings rose around him, and although he was used to the hulking canopy of the rainforest, the buildings made him feel claustrophobic. He kept glancing over his shoulder and up at the rooftops, waiting for some kind of evil to attack, like a leopard from the thick growth of his homeland.
But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing, and “nothing” was more unnerving than an onslaught of a dozen Muur warriors. To his relief, the towering buildings grew shorter and more austere as they pushed farther into the town and found its center. When he caught up with the BBB, each of its members was standing still, staring up at a statue taller than all the structures they had passed.
“Scheisse, lass,” Karl whispered in reverence. “Seemed they knew ye were comin’. They built a damned statue in yer honor.”
As far as Vitali could tell, the rearick was right. Standing before them was an image of a woman artfully carved from marbled stone. Her jaw was set, ready for war, and her eyes, made of red gemstones, bore down on them. Every feature of the woman was perfect from her jawline to her brow. The only difference from Hannah was that the statue held a weapon at the ready, a long sword built for two hands—one like the ancients of his region had used. It was said the people before the Madness had called it a katana.
Hannah stared at the statue. After what seemed like a fortnight, she finally spoke. “If only I could be like that.”
“Hell, yeah,” Aysa said. “She’s freaking huge. Who is she, a blood relative of yours?”
Hannah shook her head. “In a way. That’s the Matriarch. That’s Bethany Anne.”
Vitali stared up at the statue in wonder. Everywhere they went, they heard legends of the Queen Bitch, who’d saved the world and kept it safe by taking her fight against evil among the stars. He knew Hannah carried more than her blood in her veins; she carried the Matriarch’s mission. It was what drove the young woman to protect Irth and kept her vigilant against the darkness.
Vitali couldn’t help but wonder if it was too big a burden to bear, even for someone as strong as Hannah, but if he had a stack of chips to bet, he’d put them all on her. In all his days, he’d met no one stronger or smarter in battle.
Their moment of silent homage to the Queen didn’t last long. Shouts broke through the quiet, empty square. First came a few voices, clearly volleying words at one another, and slowly, many others joined the chorus.
The team stood, their eyes shifting from the ancient, powerful figure immortalized in stone to the powerful one of flesh in their midst.
“Looks like we have some work to do,” Hannah remarked.
“I’ll be dipped in hog shite. We been on that boat fer weeks, and me lips just want a touch of ale.” Karl’s knuckles whitened as his calloused hand gripped his hammer. “I thought we came here fer a little fun.”
Aysa pulled her shield from her back and strapped it onto her arm. “Come on, rearick! This is fun.”
She took off toward the sounds of violence with Hannah at her side. Vitali’s heart rate increased, and he could feel the hair down the center of his back stand up. As the crew turned a corner, the city opened into a park two blocks wide by two blocks long. Simple benches and play structures had been placed in perfectly designed patterns. The city had certainly had leisure in mind when they created the space.
But today, the park was anything but playful.
Team BBB arrived just as the first punches were thrown, and before they could step across the road and into the fray, an all-out brawl ensued. Men and women and even a few teens cursed and kicked and punched. In the midst of it all were a few bursts of flame and even a shock of electricity.
Magic users, Vitali thought. That meant trouble.
“We’ve gotta help,” Hannah said.
“Yeah,” Vitali answered, his eyes scanning the crowd. “But help who?”
Hannah’s eyes flashed red for a beat, then she shook her head. “I have no idea. I’ve tried to read them, but all I am getting is fear and anger. Let’s do our best to just break them up, so use restraint.” She pointed at Aysa, who was unfurling her bolas, letting them swing like the weights of an old grandfather clock. “Especially you.”
“Me?” she asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
“For Irth!” Parker yelled.
“For the Matriarch!” Hannah cried, and the crew pushed into the dusty melee.
Chapter Eleven
Hannah had been in hundreds of fights since Ezekiel asked her to join his quest, and before that, Hannah had spent years navigating the frenzy of a large city at war with itself. While her experience helped her keep her cool and gave her the skills she needed to assess a situation like this, it gave no advice as to how to proceed.
There were clearly two factions at war here: a group of physical magic users who seemed fairly adept at basic fighting skills and another group that seemed...strange. They possessed no outward form of spellcraft, yet they moved with a speed and strength that showed the obvious presence of nanocytes in their blood. These two forces crashed into one another like thunderclouds, and Hannah knew that if she did nothing, it would soon rain blood.
So she did something.
Two women, eyes glowing yellow, with large black spikes growing out of their forearms, were whaling on a man in expensive-looking green clothing. Hannah ran to help him, grabbing the spiky women by the shoulders and throwing them aside. A man with a thick growth on his head like horns charged at her, and she caught him by the spikes, and with a gentle twist, sent him sprawling. These body-magic users had some strength behind
them, and they knew how to use it, but Hannah had strength as well. A young man, shorter than Karl but with huge arms, took a swing at her. Hannah stepped aside easily, knocking him to the ground with the back of her hand.
But if her strength helped her fight, it didn’t win her any favors from the other side. Two women with glossy black eyes pushed their hands forward and shot angry-looking shafts of light in her direction. Hannah lifted her arms, pulling a wall of dirt and cobblestone up to shield her, and with a flick of her wrist, she shot the wall in their direction, bowling them both over. The attack reminded her of a move she’d seen Ezekiel use once, and she knelt, forcing her magic outward in concentric circles. The ground began to soften, and before long, the mob was slogging through a foot of thick mud.
That should slow them down, she thought. And it did. But it also gave every pissed-off person there a perfect target. Angry voices filled the air.
“Myrna scum!”
“Burn the Mylek witch!”
Within seconds, the mob had turned on her. She could hear Parker and Karl shouting, but without turning their weapons on the crowd, they couldn’t get to her. Hannah was alone, dodging gnarled club-like hands and magic spells alike. It took a surprising amount of effort to go easy on them, but Hannah hadn’t come to this city to spill blood.
“I just...wanted...a damn...drink!” she shouted while lifting a woman with skin like stone over her head.
As she tossed her quarry back into the crowd, Hannah spotted a young woman—she couldn’t have been older than twenty—going toe-to-toe with a half-dozen magic users. The girl moved fast, her footwork elegant and smooth like a dancer’s, and when she landed a fist, she saw bodies crumple. Her body magic was powerful, but the numbers were against her. She took a magical bolt to the back, then another, and the well-dressed magicians moved in for the kill.
But Hannah had other things in mind. She teleported into their midst, and the force of her sudden arrival from nowhere knocked them on their asses. They took one look at Hannah’s red-eyed fury and ran.
She turned back to the girl, who stared at her in wonder.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked.
“I’m Hannah. You okay?”
Before the girl could answer, a clear trumpet note, high and angry, rang out over the crowd. Hannah looked up to find the source, and when she turned back, the girl was gone.
Whatever the trumpet signified, the crowd all got the message. They scattered from the scene, dragging their injured along with them. Seconds later, the BBB was alone in the town square.
“So much fer rest and relaxation,” Karl muttered.
“Don’t give up hope,” Parker said. “It looks like a welcome party has just arrived.”
As he spoke, Hannah could see the column of soldiers entering the square. They were dressed like the guards at the front gate, and they carried mean metal clubs.
“What’s the meaning of this?” a large man at the front shouted. He had a bushy mustache that reminded Hannah of Laurel’s squirrel Devin.
“My name is Hannah, and we’re—”
Mr. Mustache wasn’t in a listening mood. “Throw them in irons. We’ll settle this at the keep.”
The soldiers spread out and placed a hand on Aysa’s shoulder. She broke the hand.
“Any of you bastards try to put me in chains, I’ll bust your knees in.”
“Enough, Aysa!” Hannah shouted. The angry Baseeki looked at her questioningly. “It’s okay, trust me. Everyone, let’s just do what they say.”
Hannah stepped forward, her arms in front of her. The commander grabbed a pair of shackles and locked them together. “By order of the Kingdom of Solyr, you all are under arrest.
Chapter Twelve
The only thing that chapped a rearick’s ass more than allowing himself to be put into chains was seeing another man hold his hammer. At the moment, Karl was dealing with both of those ass-chapping situations. The rusty links, clearly made for someone of a taller stature, dragged between his legs, threatening to catch every raised cobblestone in the city street, but Karl’s eyes remained fixed on the soldier with the rearick’s hammer resting on his shoulder.
His trust in Hannah was the only thing keeping Karl from wrapping his shackles around the man’s neck and squeezing the life from him. Their leader had grown, not only in her magic and ability to throw a mean right hook, but also in her wisdom. The girl from the Boulevard had been replaced by a shrewd strategist, and Karl had every intention of following her lead.
The image of saving her from a wild boar in the woods outside Arcadia years ago was still seared in his mind. Hannah was only a shadow of that kid now, and he would walk in her shadow to the brink of death if she asked him.
After a few minutes of stewing, Karl forced himself to shift his attention from his ire to gathering intel. If he knew anything, it was that his bondage would not last. He expected that anything he could learn about the city would be nothing but helpful, since this little stopover had turned into an adventure in its own right.
The city, although larger, was much like Arcadia. As they passed between buildings that rose three and four stories overhead, he could tell it wasn’t a restored stronghold from the days before the Madness. The large rocks had been hewn in the same fashion as those in Arcadia, stone by stone, by magic users.
Stores lined their path: a grocery, a cobbler, and a smithy marked by a sign in the shape of an anvil. In many ways, it was a place like any other that had learned to thrive in the lowlands among remnant and marauders. The only difference between Solyr and a handful of other cities they had visited on their journey around Irth was that this place was dead.
The windows of the stores were shuttered. The streets were empty. Occasional eyes peering out between thick, drawn blinds were the only signs of life, except for the guards marching them toward gods knew where. The desolate streets, paired with the mob brawl in the park, told him one thing: something in this prosperous town had gone sideways. The shit had hit the fan, and Karl and his friends had walked in downwind.
Looking between the rows of soldiers leading the way, Karl saw their destination. Dark stone piled upon dark stone. Bars on the windows and a giant oak door. He’d seen a hundred buildings like it in a hundred different cities. He’d spent more than his fair share of nights inside their walls. They’d landed, wanting nothing more than some supplies for the Unlawful, a solid meal and drink, and a soft bed. Now it was clear they would be sleeping on a jail-cell cot if this city was kind to their prisoners.
Just before the steps leading up to the prison, the captain of the guard stopped and turned to face his men and the prisoners. His face, stern in the middle of the park, had changed. His features looked less like the hard-ass captain and more like a kid who’d just awoken from a deep sleep.
“Plans have changed,” he said to his men. “We’re going to the great hall.”
A thin smile spread under Karl’s beard as he glanced up at Hannah.
Her eyes were white. She had influenced his mind.
Sometimes, I love them freakin’ wizards, he thought.
Chapter Thirteen
The enormous double doors opened into a giant room with vaulted ceilings. Three guards and the captain stepped in first. Parker and his friends were shoved across the threshold behind them. He couldn’t help but grin like a fool. He had no idea what Hannah was cooking up, but she had already saved them from a night in a foreign cell. If things kept going this way, they’d be granted the key to the city before sunset.
His eyes scanned the room, first taking in the exits that sat on either side of a large, empty throne. The doors had knobs and locks. He had no idea if they could make a quick escape that way. Windows stretching from floor to ceiling made the room bright with natural light, and it felt bigger than its already gargantuan size. They also provided a way out if things came to that. He pulled the chains holding his wrists apart once more, wondering if they might exhibit any sort of weakness. Just like before, they h
eld firm. But Parker knew he had someone stronger than iron on his team. It just so happened that he shared a room with her at the end of the day.
Besides the guards, there were twelve people around a giant oval table, each of them filling out an overstuffed chair. At the head stood a man about Parker’s height. His clothes were a nicer version of those of the magic users they had fought in the park. Parker knew this man, like the others in the room, had considerable resources.
The well-dressed folk didn’t notice the entrance of the captors and guards. They were too busy taking turns shouting at one another.
“We would be damned fools if we didn’t divert all cash reserves toward security, especially in a time like this. If we don’t mend the holes in our already weakened defenses, we will have to endure more of the same. Attack from without, treachery from within,” the man standing at the head of the table said.
A woman, whose strong, angular features contrasted with her slender form, stood. It was hard to tell under her billowing dress, but he guessed she was related to the warriors going toe-to-toe with the magic users in the park—a position she mirrored here. Her eyes were locked on the angry man at the head of the table. “There is treachery within, Kirill. You and I agree on that. But that is precisely where our agreement ends. What good are strong walls if the people protected within starve? Do we need defenses? Yes. Every city does. But the Guard is able; they just need stronger leadership.”
Parker’s eyes shifted to the captain, who grimaced at her remark, fists balled tightly at his sides. Parker could tell the man was doing all he could to keep his composure under the attack.
Solyrian Conspiracy - C M Raymond & L E Barbant Page 4