The Twilight City

by Gregory Mattix

  The wound on his hand felt much improved. He removed the bandage and was surprised to find it completely healed, save for a white scar in the center of his palm. His hand was a little stiff when he flexed it but seemed to work fine, for which he was thankful.

  After washing off and dressing, he decided it was time to make some plans.

  ***

  Nera’s possessions were neatly arranged before her on the narrow bed: Lightslicer and the other dagger in their sheaths, along with her two braces of throwing knives, ten total remaining; her thieving tools; and a soft leather coin pouch. Five fat gold coins—her payment thus far from Malek—seven silver, and fourteen copper bits shone in the candlelight. She had also laid out a whetstone, flint and steel, a couple keys—she had no idea what locks they went to—and various sundry items. The last item on the bed was the heavy iron key ring she had pick-pocketed from Karlin, the Magehunter who had nearly slain her. The paltry collection wasn’t much, all told, certainly not enough to support a life on the run. She had her stash of clink and other supplies still at her hovel but wasn’t sure that trying to retrieve them would be a good idea since the safe house had been discovered.

  She sighed, thinking back to when Malek and she had been captured by the dwarf.

  “She means nothing to me,” Malek had told their captor.

  His words stung, even if he had merely been trying to convince the dwarf to free her. That, along with the fact that he seemed awfully close to Endira, irritated her to no end.

  Who’s bled and nearly died for you, Malek? Just because this wench conveniently shows up and frees us, you’re suddenly smitten by her?

  Nera snorted and angrily shoved her meager possessions back into her various pockets. She was angry with Malek for reasons she didn’t quite understand, but most of all she was upset with herself for such petty thoughts. Needing time to think for a moment, she took a break from her inventory and flopped down on the bed, hands behind her head.

  Larger issues are much more important right now, such as why I should keep on with this madness. I need to cut this fool of a mage loose before he gets me killed. Like he did Arron. After the thought crossed her mind, she realized that was being unfair. Arron had made his own choices—his sacrifice was of his own will. However, abandoning that line of thought was difficult. Malek and his elven wench will get themselves thrown in a dungeon or banished to the Abyss by the Pale Lord. Damn it all, I’ve got retrieval officers, Magehunters, hell probably the entire Nexus Watch on my trail by now. Even my own guild must have sold me out, judging by the fact that they found the safe house. My life here is, for all intents and purposes, over. The smart thing to do would be to take my stash of clink and slip off plane. Live out my life there.

  Arron’s death loomed large in her mind once again: Lassiter’s slim black blade exploding from his back, her brother’s lifeless body falling to the floor, his killer’s icy-blue eyes turning to Nera as if she were just another mongrel dog to be put down in the street.

  Damn you, Arron. You loyal fool. Why couldn’t you have talked some sense into me instead of always going along without complaint from one exploit to the next. And now you’ve paid the ultimate price for your loyalty.

  The tears couldn’t be denied any longer. Nera rolled over and curled up on the bed, her face in her hands and shoulders shaking as sobs racked her body. For long minutes, the grief overwhelmed her.

  “Aw, Arron… Why?” Nera took a deep breath and wiped her face on her sleeve.

  Eventually, another feeling crowded out the sorrow—anger. His death could not stand.

  Those bastards have to pay for that… If I don’t make them, then who will? Running away won’t bring Arron back, nor will he be avenged like that.

  I wish Wyat was around. He’d know what to do. Her good friend had been off plane on some campaign with his mercenary company for several months.

  Nera sighed heavily and stood up. She grasped the heavy iron key ring in her hand again, feeling its heft. Somewhere in Nexus lies the door to the mana factory which one of these keys opens. Its presence reminded her she had nearly died at the hands of the Magehunters. My guts were torn asunder—I would surely have died, had Malek not somehow saved me.

  Her conscience nagged at her, and she knew she was being too hard on the mage. She grimaced and stuck the key ring back in her pocket, deciding not to angrily hurl it at Malek and storm off on her own path.

  Sticking with the mage was folly, total madness, yet somehow she knew she would. Without assistance, he would certainly fall, as Arron had. Balor’s balls… I’m as big a fool as that green mageling. Mistress of the Night, lend me your good fortune.

  Nera stepped out of the room, feeling physically rested from her nap but emotionally drained. She composed her emotions and walked to the gloomy parlor outside Endira’s and her master’s rooms. The door was ajar, and Malek and the elf were drinking tea and sharing stories, huddled close together, knees nearly touching. They both looked up and smiled at Nera when she walked in.

  The proximity of the two immediately made her irritated again, which in turn made her angry at herself for such a reaction.

  “Nera, we were just discussing the best course of action,” Endira said. “Malek tells me his master was taken to the city’s mana factory.” When Malek nodded, she continued. “I’m afraid we don’t know where such a building is, though—”

  “Stop right there,” Nera interrupted, the words coming out harsher than she intended. “I came to say that I want out of here—I need fresh air.”

  “But it’s too dangerous,” Malek protested.

  “You are free to go as you wish, of course,” Endira said, drawing a look of protest from Malek. “I would just ask that you use the front door through Nihad’s.”

  “Thank you. You two enjoy your tea and crumpets—I intend to find your mana factory while I’m out.” She didn’t mention the fact that she had decided to stop by her hovel and recover her stash of coin. It was looking as though she would have to get off plane sooner rather than later. The chance of ever being able to return to a normal life in Nexus was slim to none.

  “Oh, sure, I suppose that’s a good idea,” Malek said. “Here, I’d just ask that since half the city is looking for us, you’d wear this ring. It will protect you from scrying.” From his finger he removed the heavy silver ring that Nera had stolen when she met him, and he tossed it to her. “And be careful out there.”

  Nera plucked the ring from the air with one hand and tossed Malek the ring of keys with the other. He jerked in surprise, managing to catch them, but spilling his mug of tea on the floor. Nera smirked at him and spun on her heel to walk out.

  ***

  “Whatever’s gotten into her, I wonder?” Malek righted his teacup and looked around for something to clean up the spill.

  Endira crossed the room and produced a rag from somewhere. She dabbed up the small puddle and refilled Malek’s mug. “I would think she’s upset about the loss of her brother and the chaos that’s come into her life. It is unlikely that she will be able to have a normal life after all this, you know.” The elf maiden sat down gracefully again beside Malek.

  He immediately felt like a fool. I should say something to her about Arron… I’ve been an insensitive bastard. He found that he missed the easygoing half-elf—he could only imagine how crushed Nera was by the loss of the man she considered a brother.

  “Ah, you’re probably right. I’ve been taking her loyalty for granted. I suppose I’ll have to increase her retainer fee for all the trouble.” He thought a moment but looked sideways at Endira, feeling her eyes on him.

  She gave him a gentle smile and patted his arm, which sent a shiver down his spine. “I don’t think your gold is her primary concern right now. You might try to be more compassionate in your dealings with her and more considerate of her feelings. I think she cares more about you and your quest than her cocky demeanor would suggest.”

  Malek’s eyes widened as he considered the i
mplications of Endira’s observation.

  Chapter 25

  Nera watched an empty wagon trundle down the narrow, abandoned street below, returning from a mana delivery to the foundry. Instead of trying to find any of her acquaintances who might know anything about the factory, she had decided to try the easiest solution—trail the delivery wagon. She had never witnessed a delivery in the past. Each morning when she arrived for her shift, there had always been a fresh pallet of mana canisters waiting with the precise number needed for the whole day.

  The big secret is about to be revealed.

  She lay prone in the shadows atop a roof across the street, watching the wagon. After several long hours spent watching the foundry, the delivery had arrived in the early hours of the morning, well before she would normally have even woken up.

  At a casual glance, all appeared to be in order, the street quiet and deserted, but Nera knew better, having grown up on those streets. No streets in Nexus were ever truly deserted—until that one. Beggars, drunks, street urchins, and cutthroats always seemed to lurk about, especially in the seedier parts of the city. Nera could not even detect any stray cats or dogs in the area.

  The first indication all was not right was the presence of four guards, two driving the mules and two riding in the empty back. Why guard an empty cart? The second clue was the faint shimmer of a magical ward as they entered the street, most likely keeping the area clear of unwanted stray people and animals. The third and most obvious indication was the pair of stone statues of armored warriors that groaned into action when the cart approached the brick wall at the dead end. From her elevated vantage point, Nera determined the wall at the end of the street was an extension of the vast curtain wall below the Nexus fortress.

  The golems that stirred upon the arrival of the cart grasped the hidden handles of a cleverly concealed pair of doors and pulled them apart, revealing a brightly lit warehouse inside. As soon as the cart rolled through, the automatons slammed the doors shut and remained motionless once again as they resumed their silent vigil.

  Clever, putting this below the fortress, where nobody would be the wiser. And a very secure location. Now, I need to find out where lies the door those keys unlock.

  Following the line of the fortress’s curtain wall with her eyes, Nera decided on a likely area. Cautiously retreating from her concealment to avoid being seen, she dropped down from the rooftop to the next street over and made her way past the warded alley. At street level, an illusion cloaked the alley’s entrance, making it look like an abandoned building. As she made her way closer to the fortress, she stuck close to the shadowed buildings in case she needed to take cover but encountered nobody other than a solitary shambling drunk in search of a place to sleep off his impending stupor for the night.

  Nera traversed a winding street that paralleled the curtain wall until she came upon a small square. On the right side was a small gate in the wall, guarded by a pair of Watchmen. I bet that’s where they come and go. They don’t want to draw attention to that alleyway.

  Pleased at her discovery, Nera turned toward the slums and her small hovel. Just need to secure my humble stash of clink before this all goes down. Once we hit this mana factory, I might need to hop off plane in a hurry.

  ***

  Nera’s heart fell as soon as she saw the door to her hovel had been smashed open. She raced inside and dropped to her knees beside the loose floor tile at the rear of the tiny home, where she kept her bag of coin, but she knew it was already gone. The tile had been removed and tossed aside. Her entire stash was gone: twenty gold crowns and a variety of gems and jewelry.

  “Damn it to the Abyss!” Continuing to curse profusely under her breath, she pounded her fists on the floor. “I’m truly buggered now—I’ll never get out of here.”

  “Ye kiss yer mama with that mouth of yers?” someone asked in an amused, rumbling voice. A hulking, ominous shadow fell over her from the open doorway. A burly figure loomed there, streetlight glinting off a wicked axe.

  She knew she was in trouble.

  ***

  Waresh smiled to himself at the thief’s anguished curses coming from inside the dark hovel. He eased himself out of the shadowed doorway of the shack across the alley and approached cautiously. The trap which had guarded the door had been a potent one. Fortunately, he had been prepared for that eventuality. The recently deceased wino whom he had dragged into the alleyway around the corner had been more than happy to try to break the door down with a little encouragement from Waresh.

  He stepped onto the stoop, Heartsbane in hand. He could pick out the plane-cursed woman’s slim form in the dim interior, kneeling over her missing cache.

  Waresh couldn’t resist taunting her. “Ye kiss yer mama with that mouth of yers?” He grinned at the shocked look on Neratiri’s face.

  She froze and watched him, apparently waiting for him to make a move.

  “I always like that trapped expression when the prey realizes the hunt is over. Don’t try anything—I’m not fool enough to forget that a cornered animal is a desperate one.” He cautiously stepped closer to the thief. “Yer little stash will make a nice bonus. It should make up for the inconvenience of yer elven friend interrupting us last time, too.”

  “Keep the clink, dwarf. Just let me go—you never saw me here.” She eyed him warily as if judging her chances.

  “Don’t even think about trying me, wench. Ye got lucky last time. Now lay down and kiss the ground with yer hands behind yer back.” He held a rope in one hand, Heartsbane in the other.

  “All right, you got me. Take it easy.” The thief raised her empty hands and leaned forward to comply.

  Waresh took another step closer, ready to pin her down with one knee in her back in order to truss her up.

  Neratiri put her hands on the floor and suddenly flipped over into a handstand and then sprang back to her feet before Waresh could blink. She swept some of the humble trinkets off her shelf into Waresh’s path.

  “Fool wench, that’s not—” He was cut off when something exploded at his feet, sending a shower of smoke erupting into his face. Waresh coughed as his nose and throat suddenly burned. He lunged blindly through the smoke, Heartsbane lashing out in an arc that would’ve cut the thief in two had she remained in the same place.

  He heard a clunk overhead. Waresh squinted his watering eyes just in time to make out a panel swinging shut in the ceiling. He swung the axe up through the ceiling, carving a large gash through the thin wood and plaster. A sharp yelp of pain came from above, and he could just make out his prey crawling away. Light came through the crawlspace as she pulled herself up onto the roof and disappeared out of sight.

  “Bitch, ye’re pissing me off!” he roared in anger, but it came out less impressive than he intended as his voice broke into a coughing fit as the smoke burned his lungs. Waresh rushed back outside the hovel in search of his maddeningly elusive prey, eyes streaming and hacking up phlegm from his lungs.

  The chase was on.

  ***

  I can’t seem to outrun a bloody dwarf? Nera was unable to believe her misfortune. The dwarf had gotten lucky with his wild hacking about, and his axe had carved a deep gash in Nera’s calf, greatly slowing her down. Despite her quick bandage job, the wound ached and still leaked blood. She knew the longer the chase was drawn out, the greater chance he’d catch her.

  Nera pumped her arms and launched herself into the air. She sailed gracefully over a street between buildings, coming down into a roll and smoothly regaining her feet on the next building, which was a story lower. She sprinted several more paces and slid to a stop in the shadow of a chimney, cloaking herself in the darkness and trying to still her rapid breathing so her pursuer couldn’t hear her.

  Seconds ticked by, and Nera thought she might have lost him, but then an imposing shadow fell across the rooftop. The stocky dwarf stood on the roof across the alley Nera had just left, merely a silhouette blocking the pale silver moon just visible on the horizon behind h
im. The scarred brute pursuing her must have been carved from granite, as tireless as he was. His eyes raged with a murderous fire, and the wicked battle-axe he carried reeked of dark magic. She could’ve dealt with all that—the part that really bothered her was the fact the whoreson had stolen all her meager savings.

  This bastard looks like he’s done with trying to take me alive. I reckon now he’d prefer to drag me in as a corpse.

  The dwarf stared into the darkness, head swiveling slowly as he scanned the rooftops for signs of Nera. Then he stepped away, and she dared hope he was giving up until he suddenly sailed across the chasm, landing on his feet with a thud that shook the roof. Tiles cracked beneath his boots. Whereas Nera had tumbled with her momentum, the dwarf just landed on his feet as if his boots had pitch on the bottom.

  Uncanny, that was. She pressed herself deeper into the shadows, debating whether to hide, run, or strike. I should strike… I can’t hold out much longer with this wound. Hopefully, I can slow him down enough to get away. The pommel of Lightslicer was cool and reassuring in her hand as she waited.

  The dwarf slowly came forward, axe raised as though he sensed her presence. “Come out of yer hiding spot, thief. I tire of chasing ye through this whole damned city. I’ll take ye back, they’ll clamp another collar on, tack on some more time to yer sentence, and we both come out ahead. At least that way, ye’ll get to retain yer head. If ye don’t comply, I bring ye back as a corpse. Yer choice—I still get the bounty either way. But my patience wears thin.”

  C’mon, just a little closer.