Midnight Monster Club

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “She’s gone. She came in here last night and your friend Victor followed. He was carrying on like you and threatening to hurt people. I stopped him. I put a knife in his guts. It was me, not anyone who worked here. So if you want justice, I’m your man.”

  Marisol and the other two companions stiffened at his words. He’d just confessed to killing their friend. Digger prepared himself for the assault. The one to Marisol’s right appeared the weakest of the bunch. Digger would smash his head in and do his best to buy Monty a moment to escape.

  Angel surprised him when he barked, “Marisol! Gavin! Hector! Back away.”

  The three took a half step back. Neither of the other two lying on the floor was moving.

  “It’s a gold watch you’re looking for, right?” Digger asked.

  “Do you have it?”

  “I know where it is. Here’s my deal. Let those two go and we keep talking.”

  Angel glanced at Sofia and Monty. They remained behind the bar.

  “They’re important to you,” Angel said.

  “They’re not involved. You want information? Let’s start by cutting them free.”

  “My dear gravedigger, I’m afraid that’s not how this works. You’ve revealed you know something. All I have to do now is cut it out of you. Or out of them. One way or another, you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”

  Digger adjusted his hold on the shovel. He had blundered by showing he had concern for Monty. He looked for any sign his brother might be ready to act. But Monty continued to grip the bar with his head down. Lady Sofia had a hand on him as if to comfort him.

  He hadn’t considered the possibility that Monty had more going at the Dragon and Rose than just a place to flex his culinary acumen. Had Monty fallen in love? Now, none of it mattered. Angel was going to kill all of them unless Digger did something.

  But here, outnumbered, this was a fight he couldn’t win.

  A shadow came hurtling from the rear of the common room. The flying table crashed into one of the noblemen behind Marisol and sent him to the floor. A second, ogre-sized shadow stepped into the light.

  “I heard I missed a card game last night,” Sprat Hellard said. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  IT WAS THE FIRST INSTANT Digger had seen Marisol’s attention falter. But with her sword still at the ready, he didn’t dare try for her or the others.

  Hellard was an imposing figure as he stomped towards them. Quick, too. He scooped up a chair and flung it into the remaining nobleman. He and Angel fell back towards the entrance. Hellard then snatched up a dropped rapier and swished it about in the air.

  The silvery weapon looked like a toy in his massive hand.

  Marisol stood alone as she pivoted to face him.

  Wasting no time, Digger cut loose with a shout as he launched himself at her. She was too fast. She blocked his shovel with her blade and shot her foot out, almost tripping him. But he was bigger than her and got inside the reach of her blade, shoulder-checking her and sending her stumbling towards Angel. Digger almost paid for the move when she spun the rapier in her hand and thrust downward, nearly catching his leg. It was his turn to backpedal as she punched with her pommel and began a flurry of slashes. He dodged one, blocked another, and felt steel cut his right arm as he stumbled out of range.

  Hellard had gotten hold of one of Angel’s companions and was slamming him repeatedly into the floor. The last companion standing shoved the chair aside and advanced on the ogre.

  Digger couldn’t do anything while fighting Marisol. He yelled, “Hellard! Look out!”

  Lady Sofia charged out from behind the bar and smashed a bottle across the man’s head. He went down, groaning.

  Hellard raised the man he was holding and threw him into another who was just starting to rise to his knees.

  Monty screamed.

  Lord Angel had climbed over the bar and was dragging Digger’s brother towards the front door. He held the edge of his sword to Monty’s neck.

  “This could have been easy,” Angel said. “But you’d all stand together to protect a murderer. I sense this fel is precious to you, gravedigger.”

  Digger tried to move towards them but Marisol blocked his path. Two of the other companions limped past her. One couldn’t put any weight on his ankle, and the other had an arm dangling uselessly at his side. When Digger tried to sidestep Marisol, Angel pressed the blade tighter across Monty’s throat.

  “Not a step further. Don’t think you’ve won anything. I’ll have the city guard here in moments. Unless you have the watch to offer me.”

  “I don’t,” Digger said. “But like I said, I can get it. You harm him, and you’ll never see it.”

  Hellard loomed behind him and began cracking his knuckles. “We could take ’em.”

  Digger considered it for a moment. But no matter what they tried, Monty wouldn’t survive.

  Sofia was busy retrieving another bottle.

  Marisol finally retreated towards the exit but stood in front of Angel as if protecting him. She whispered something to Angel. He shushed her.

  Angel handed his prisoner off to one of his men and Monty was ushered out the door. “Find me the watch. Your fel friend goes free. That’s the deal.”

  “Agreed. Where?”

  “Stockade Square. By the gallows. I’ll not set foot here again where you can have an army of ogres waiting for me.”

  “But you’ll have the city guard.”

  “That’s a risk you’ll have to take. Send it by messenger if you’re afraid for your own neck. It doesn’t matter to me. But don’t be tardy. In two hours your friend hangs. Not quite the spectacle Queen Claudia prefers in her executions, but it will serve its purpose.”

  “I’ll get you your watch.”

  Angel took a moment to study Digger. “I’ll remember you, gravedigger. If you try to run, there’s no place you can hide from me when this is done.”

  “You hold up your end of the bargain. I’ll see you at the gallows.”

  THEY STEPPED OUT IN time to see Angel, his prisoner, and the three companions gather their horses and ride off.

  “Who were those people?” Lady Sofia asked.

  Digger could only shake his head. “Some damn noblemen chasing a fel woman who ran into your bar last night.”

  “I figured that out. But why here? What does Monty have to do with this?”

  “He made the mistake of being open for business with his card game.”

  Sofia followed Digger inside and gave him an angry push. Hellard was standing next to them and she switched targets and punched him. The ogre flinched as if wounded.

  “I thought I told you to get out of my bar.”

  “I left,” Hellard said. “I was hanging out in a nearby alley when I saw those men coming this way. I thought there’d be trouble.”

  Digger took the bottle from her hands. “Look...Lady Sofia, I’m Monty’s brother. He probably never mentioned me.”

  Her eyes were glassy with tears. “He talked about you all the time.”

  “I’ll get him back. I promise.”

  She marched past them. The two remaining injured noblemen were still breathing but unconscious.

  Sofia made a helpless gesture. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

  “We hold on to those two,” Digger said. “Bring them with us as part of the exchange in case Angel tries to screw us.”

  “What chance is there he’ll honor his deal?”

  Digger tried to conjure a lie but failed. “Little to none.”

  “YOU KNOW IT’S A TRAP,” Hellard said as he trailed after Digger through the back alley. He carried the two men, one on each shoulder, as easy as if lugging sacks of grain. “We should tuck his friends away someplace safe. Keep them as hostages. That way the swap is on our terms.”

  “That’s what you and your gang are good at, isn’t it?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Your ink. Which crew do yo
u run with? Wharf Rats? Huanghun?”

  “Currently unaffiliated.”

  “Isabel said you were recruiting at her mission.”

  “I was. I’m starting something real that isn’t just a group of robbers looking to make coin.”

  Digger stopped and clanged the shovel on the pavement before Hellard. He was used to using his size to intimidate, but that wouldn’t work with an ogre.

  “We had people after us today with tattoos like yours. Too much of a coincidence in my eyes.”

  Hellard displayed his arm. In the shadows it was hard to clearly see, but Digger could make out the mark of the skull with stars on his skin. “Is this what you saw?”

  “Yes.”

  “Karanog? Are you sure?”

  “If that’s their mark, then yes.”

  Hellard made a deep noise in his throat. “Then it means trouble. They don’t normally come to Diregloom. When I was with them, we stuck to the wilds east of the kingdoms, the swamps, hills, and deserts. But we avoided the water and the islands.”

  “You’re here, aren’t you? So why wouldn’t your gang come?”

  “Too much competition. Too many rules between the rival gangs. Last thing anyone wants is a gang war, so we kept to our territory.”

  “So what’s changed?”

  “Management. If you say they’re after Isabel, then the price must be good. What is this watch, anyway?”

  Digger picked up the shovel and rested it on his shoulder. There was no way he could trust Hellard. But there weren’t any other options. For some reason Hellard was insisting on helping. Plus, getting into a fight with an ogre in a dark alley would be the last in a series of bad ideas that had gotten him to his current predicament.

  At least Lady Sofia stood a chance. If she was smart, she’d heed his warning and get out of the city. She was pureblood. She could travel freely and get a fresh start anywhere.

  He chose his words carefully. “The watch is just a piece of fancy jewelry. I appreciate your help in the bar. But this is my business, not yours.”

  “You trying to get rid of me? Looks like you might need an extra set of hands.”

  “What’s to stop you from taking me out once I lead you to Isabel? There’s a price on her head and you know it.”

  Hellard grunted. “If the Karanog are here, then I’m in as much danger as she is. They don’t exactly let people quit, and our parting was less than amicable. They want Isabel for a reason. Profit-motivated, so they’ll take her alive. Me, they’ll just kill.”

  “Maybe you handing her to them will smooth things over for you.”

  “I’d be lying if I said that hadn’t crossed my mind. You don’t know me. But I came to the game looking for fel just like you. Ones who are willing to fight. You want me gone, say the word.”

  Weighing his options wasn’t hard. Having an ogre on their side was a seductive thought. And if Hellard was there for Isabel, there wasn’t much Digger could do about it.

  “Come on.”

  He led the ogre across the lot behind the button shop and clomped up the steps towards Monty’s apartment. The door stood ajar.

  “Isabel?” he hissed. “Hey!”

  But Isabel wasn’t inside. He checked everywhere, but there wasn’t any place to hide.

  With her gone, he realized all hope of saving his brother went with her. But there was only one place she would go. The sheriff still had her watch. So wherever the sheriff was, she would be there too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  HOW EASILY FEL GAVE in once confronted by their superiors.

  The fel cook they had taken from the Dragon and Rose remained silent and subdued as he rode in front of Angel, sharing the saddle.

  Angel had expected him to fight and struggle but the whimpering greenskin only trembled.

  They headed towards the stockade. The afternoon crowd from earlier hadn’t abated. In fact, it was worse now that the sun was setting behind lavender clouds and the haze of factory smoke. He had been going almost nonstop since the previous evening, trying to untangle his own situation, and forgotten what day it was.

  This was to be a special night for the city. With the start of the catacomb games, the curfew was lifted. The fel were free to be out in the streets. It was the type of evening that perturbed Duke Tito and his court to no end and would give the visiting viscount ammunition for his report on Queen Claudia.

  But Angel would have no time to enjoy whatever entertainments Claudia had planned. He spurred his horse and his companions kept up. Gavin and Hector had injuries that needed tending. Only Marisol remained unhurt. Cy and Philip had been left behind.

  He glanced at her and saw she wore a black expression.

  No doubt upset at abandoning their two friends. They’d get them back, of that he was certain. The fel gravedigger wanted the cook alive. Now that Angel had made contact with the gravedigger, he was beginning to feel in control of the situation, which had been nothing but chaos since Isabel had stolen the watch. The watch would be returned. Red Eye would get paid. And after getting out from under his debt, Angel would make things right with his aunt and be the best nephew she could ever share her wealth with.

  He could almost taste it, it would be so good.

  Marisol and the others would forgive him eventually. For now, all they had to do was obey.

  His aunt’s decorations adorned every intersection near Stockade Square, with orange banners, teal ribbons, flags, and floral arrangements decorating lampposts and hanging across the streets. Musicians who made up for a lack of skill with volume were screeching away with violin, guitar, flute, and clarinet. The night was bringing everyone out, and he cursed and kicked as people kept brushing up against him and his horse.

  He made a beeline for the stockade gate. There they dismounted, and he handed his prisoner over to a guard who led the cook away without question. Gavin and Hector needed help dismounting and were soon being tended to by the stockade medic.

  “We should go back,” Marisol said. “We might free Cy and Philip.”

  “No. The gravedigger will bring them here. He wants to make this deal. He knows how bad it will go for him if he doesn’t show up with the watch.”

  “It was a mistake leaving them behind.”

  “I can see you’re angry, Marisol. I know you wanted to have a go at them. But even if we had won, we’d have lost Sprite and any chance at finding the watch.”

  “I’d protect you from Red Eye.”

  He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I know you would. But this is the right way to do this. We start killing everyone, we lose what I’m trying to build here. My aunt’s island is looking at a boom the likes of which we’ve never seen. We’re situated to be on top of it all if we play our cards right. But for now we have to follow the rules, until we become the ones who make the rules. And don’t worry, cousin. We’ll rescue our friends soon.”

  She kept her head low.

  He flicked her chin. “Don’t pout. It doesn’t become you.”

  Riders were approaching the gate.

  Claudia’s steward Rochus swung off the horse and marched straight for Angel, then gave a curt bow. He was dressed in a checkered orange vest with gold buttons, bright blue pantaloons, and shoes with curled tips. The outfit was made all the more garish because of his green skin.

  “Queen Claudia requests your presence.”

  “Tell her I’m right in the middle of something,” Angel said.

  Rochus didn’t hesitate before saying, “She followed up the request with these specific words. ‘Angel is to get his ass back to the castle or he’ll be lucky to be licking the dinner plates after tomorrow’s banquets.’” He dipped his head as if to punctuate his aunt’s order.

  Angel sighed.

  This wasn’t the time. He was so close to finishing this business. But keeping his aunt happy was a tricky thing. She had been reluctant at first to even allow him to move into the castle. Day by day, tedious meetings over décor and city planning and budge
ts and guest lists where he feigned not only interest but enthusiasm had finally borne fruit. Now she relied on him to assist with the most mundane decisions around her planned spectacle.

  She had only excluded him from one thing: the conversations she had with her game designers. The under-the-castle arena had its own staff and budget and was more closely guarded than the castle itself.

  The thought of it made him giddy. Not the facility itself but the amount of silver it took to pay for everything. In addition to what he was privy to, his aunt must have been shoveling a mountain of funds into her catacomb project.

  Claudia the Second was so far beyond wealthy, it taxed his imagination to think of what he might do when holding the reins to her little island.

  But he had pressed his luck by staying away all afternoon in pursuit of the watch.

  Rochus stood patiently. His cool, neutral face dared Angel to try his excuse a second time. What other ultimatum from his aunt might he have prepared?

  He’d have to go, he decided. He had given the gravedigger two hours to come to the square. Angel could make it to the castle for a brief meeting with his aunt, soothe ruffled feathers, and be back in time to meet the haughty fel and end this distracting predicament.

  To Marisol he said, “Keep an eye on the prisoner. No one gets in to see him. No one. Understand?”

  She nodded.

  He mounted up and guided his horse back out the gate. His aunt’s attendant tried to trot ahead of him, but Angel nudged his horse forward as they cut their way through the crowd and rode up Fountain Street towards the castle.

  THE STEWARD ROCHUS ran along behind Angel as he pushed through the front doors of the castle and entered the cavernous front hall. It was empty.

  “Where is she?” Angel asked.

  “She has instructed for you to wait.”

  “I’ll see her now.”

  Rochus bodily blocked Angel’s path to the stairs leading up to the bedchambers. “She asked for you to wait in the clock room.”

  “The clock room? Why there?”