by Eric Vall
She sneered at me, something I definitely wasn’t used to. “It isn’t revenge, it’s justice.”
“There’s not much of a distinction between the two. Couldn’t you just inform the city guard where they are and let them handle it?”
“I promise you the guard know where they are,” she replied with a scoff. “On a whole, the guard doesn’t give a shit about the slums, and many of them are just as cruel and crooked as any gang.” She huffed and stomped away from me. “So no, they won't do anything about this. We have to take care of this.”
“We?” I crossed my arms and arched an eyebrow at her.
“Are you saying you won’t help me, Gryff?” Her glare was dangerous.
I softened. “Of course, I’ll help you, Layla. I just… I just don’t want you to get hurt.” My concern softened her too, finally rubbing away at the intense coat of anger she’d been wearing. She stood on her toes and planted a kiss on my cheek.
“As long as we’re together, I know we’ll be okay.” She finally smiled, and that seemed to take all of the tension away. “We’re technically part of the military, right? It’s our job to help people. These monsters have hurt and killed so many and will continue to do so unless we stop them. So yes, it may be revenge, but it is the right thing to do.”
“Well,” I smiled warmly. “I cannot possibly argue with that line of logic.” I put a hand on her cheek and wiped away her tears. “We’re mages after all. We can take some street thugs.”
Layla chuckled, brightening for the first time all day. She threw her arms around my waist and buried her face into my chest.
“Thank you, Gryffie,” she said.
I embraced her back. “I’ll always be there to help you.”
She took in a deep breath. “I know.” When we finally pulled apart, we were both smiling. I held her out at arm’s length.
“Do you have any of your crystals with you?” I asked her.
“I do,” she nodded. “I had… I don’t know, I had this feeling this morning that I should bring them.”
I smirked. “I’d say your gut was right.” She nodded. “Do you know where Mill Street is?”
“Yeah, I know where Logan was talking about.”
“Then lead the way, Miss Bethel,” I said and stepped aside, an arm out indicating for her to take the lead. Her grin grew wide and wicked.
“With pleasure.”
Chapter 11
I followed alongside Layla as she led us to our target. Her strides were long and determined, and her body brimmed with a primal rage. She was ready for a fight, practically itching for a fight, and she was going to get one.
I just had to make sure we both survived it.
No one bothered us as we made our way down the large hill that this side of the Enclave was built along. I’m sure we stood out from the riff-raff that we passed, with our well-made outfits, despite the bit of dirt and blood from our earlier scuffle. It didn’t help that Layla was a young and exceptionally beautiful woman or that I didn’t exactly hide my fine compartmented belt and the crystals they contained.
But for whatever reason, people steered clear of us. Maybe they sensed our intent. Maybe Layla’s determined glare scared them off. Whatever it was, I was glad to be able to walk unmolested.
The closer we got to the Drakes’ hideout, the more I felt Layla tense up beside me. I didn’t know if it was nervousness or anticipation, but her breathing quickened, and I swore that I could hear her heartbeat.
“You doing alright?” I asked her.
She looked forward. “I won’t be alright until this is all done.”
That was fair. This wasn’t easy for her, and while I missed the snarky and fun-loving Layla that I adored, she would be absent tonight and for good reason. We had to get this done so she could move on and go back to being the girl I knew and cared for deeply.
It took half an hour to make our way to the derelict district where the Drakes’ rundown hideout was. Every building seemed to be made of broken brick, cracked windows, and chipped paint as if this whole part of town had neglected to take care of itself for decades. That may have very well been the truth.
As we made our way through, I got the distinct feeling that we were being watched. My skin crawled and my hairs stood on edge, my body on high alert. My father’s charred dagger, one of the few mementos I had of him, was tucked into my belt. It was the only weapon I had besides my essence crystals. If we were attacked up close, I wouldn’t likely have time to summon anything, so I would have to trust in my dagger and my fists.
Layla stopped at an intersection of shabby streets, next to a boarded-up building with a busted glass bay window that had once been a storefront. There was some faded lettering that read Mama Em’s Baked Goods. I assumed she was out of business.
“What is it?” I asked Layla.
She looked down the street, her eyes alight with determination. “This is Mill Street.”
I nodded. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” she said simply. “Now we just need to figure out which shit hole is their little base.” I doubted that they would leave out a sign advertising their criminal activities to the world, but I was sure we could find it out without much effort.
Layla started down the street with me on her heels. I’d rather have us stick to the shadows, but we couldn’t stay in alleys and such without knowing where we were going, so all we could do was to walk down the road as inconspicuously as we could. Surprisingly, Mill Street wasn’t deserted. Most of the buildings were run down and abandoned, but I spied the glow of candles and lamps through many of the windows. One tavern that was even in full swing with blazing lights, loud yelling, and cursing spilling out onto the street. I supposed even criminals needed a place to get away and to drink.
I was content to move right past it, but Layla veered toward the bright tavern and strolled up the steps to the front deck. She marched right up to a skinny beanpole of a man with a scraggly blonde beard that looked to be stained with alcohol. He had an angry face, all scars and scowls, as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and puffed a large cloud of smoke while he looked Layla up and down.
If she cared, she didn’t let on. While she might not have, I didn’t like the leering, hungry look he gave her, so I made sure to come up behind her to let him know that Layla was off limits.
“What you want?” he asked after a moment.
“Money,” she replied simply.
He looked her up and down again. “I wouldn’t mind payin’ for your services as long as the rate’s reasonable.”
Layla scoffed, and I had to keep myself from punching the man. “Not from you, shit sack. I lost all my money up at Ralph’s Lucky Ride. I owe money to some people, and they’ll be collectin’ soon. I was told that the Drakes are around these parts, that they might be able to loan me some scratch so I can get the debt collectors off me back.”
I was surprised to see how easily Layla slipped into her native slum lingo. It was definitely something to behold.
The man narrowed his eyes at her. “But then you’d just be owin’ money to the Drakes, darlin’, and you ain’t wantin’ to be in their debt sheet, I promise ye.”
“Don’t worry about me, sir.” Layla spat that last bit like it was a curse. “I can get money soon, just not soon enough for my likin’.”
He stroked his beard. “You ain’t with the guard, are ye?”
“Do you think the guard would take on a little thing like me?” Layla scoffed and though I couldn’t see her face, I was sure she rolled her eyes.
“I s’pose not.” The man pushed off the banister he’d been leaning against and uncrossed his arms to point down the way. “They’re set up in the old textile mill. Shouldn’t miss it. It’s got dozens of windows and two large smokestacks, with the one closest to the road missin’ some brick.”
“Thank you,” Layla said with a nod, then turned away from the man and walked down the steps. I followed after her.
The man called after us
. “If they end up killin’ you, don’t say I didn’t give you a fair warnin’.”
Layla’s only response to that was to give him a thumbs up without even looking back over her shoulder.
Once the tavern was just a dim glow behind us, I walked up beside Layla and patted her shoulder. “That was some damn fine acting right there,” I told her.
“Thanks,” she said with a smirk. “You have to learn to be a good liar to survive in the slums. Honesty is the best way to get yourself killed or swindled around here, probably both.”
“So long as you’re honest at least some of the time,” I mused, “I guess that’s an alright way to navigate things.”
“Gryff,” she began as she took one of my hands in hers and looked down at the paired grip. “I know I’m not the perfect person, alright. I lie a lot, I prank and badger people. I can be downright mean if I have to, but I’ve always been honest with you. So, if things don’t go right in there, I… I just want you to know--”
I silenced her with a kiss. A shudder ran through her before she melted into me as our kiss turned long and passionate. When we pulled apart, I put a finger to her lips.
“None of that, Layla Bethel,” I whispered. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got your back.”
“And I have yours,” she whispered back with a smile. “Thanks.”
I nodded, planted another kiss on her forehead, and then turned us back down the street. “Come on, let’s end this.”
“Yes, let’s,” she said as she steeled herself and her gaze hardened.
We found the textile mill easily enough. It was at the far end of the street, and honestly, it was hard to miss as it was the largest building around. The smokestacks towered over everything like menacing fingers reaching greedily for the silver moon. The mill itself was a hulking behemoth of brick and glass windows. There was no telling how many thugs laid within. I’d been to a textile mill once when Maelor and I had gone to visit Nialenn Enclave, and there had been hundreds of women working the spinning mules. I prayed there weren’t that many goons waiting for us in there.
Metal doors big enough for carriages and wagons to come through loomed at the front of the mill, but they were chained shut. We didn’t spy another entrance along the street side of the building, but lights shone through the many broken windows, as well as muffled voices that echoed from within. The only unshuttered or unchained entrance we could find was around the corner, in a wide alley between the far side of the mill and the large brick warehouse next to it.
We hung back around the corner from it. There was a guard out front, but he didn’t raise an alarm or move to chase us, so it was a safe bet that he wasn’t aware of us yet. Layla kept watch around the wall as she slipped her hand into her bag and pulled out a large crystal.
“Alright, you ready to unleash hell on these bastards?” she hissed.
“Hold on,” I said as I put my hand over her crystal. She cocked an eyebrow. “We should try to get in without any trouble. See what we’re going up against inside before we start this fight.”
Layla nodded. “Fair play.” She returned the crystal to her pack. “Okay, I’ll take the lead. Be ready if this goes south.”
“After you, Bethel. You’re the ‘good liar’ after all.”
She grinned. “I prefer to think of it as being a ‘master of persuasion.’” Once more, she looked around the wall to the guard before she pulled back. A deep breath later, her face pinched into a determined scowl. “Okay, here we go.”
Layla pushed off from the wall and rounded the corner with me on her heels. The guard saw her immediately and went rigid as he fumbled for one of the several knives he had strapped to his chest, but Layla put her hands up in surrender.
“Woah there, friend, we don’t mean you any trouble.”
The guard snorted, but he didn’t drop his hand from where it gripped his knife. “What do you want, girl?” He had a gruff voice, gravely and coarse like he smoked far too much.
Layla approached him slowly, and I stayed a few steps behind her. “You’re with the Drakes, right? I was told y’all could lend me some coin.”
“Who told you that?” the thug asked suspiciously. “We don’t handle customers here.”
“One of your own told me,” Layla lied glibly.
“Who, girl?”
Layla made a play at fumbling for a name. “What was it that he said his name was…?” She tapped her foot and looked up in mock contemplation.
“It was something with a B, right?” I offered to keep the con going.
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed. “Brandon, Braden… oh, Bando! That was it. Bando Sark. Had a nasty scar across his face.”
The guard let out a sharp breath and crossed his arms. “Bando told you that? I don’t believe he’d be that stupid.”
Layla shrugged. “He was decently drunk. He and his men were drowning in ale at the Copper Cobbler in Dellham Square. He musta’ overhead me talkin’ bout my gamblin’ debts. He offered to set me up with a loan and told me to meet his associates here.”
“Dellham is near where they were gonna pick up that no-good Bethel’s sister,” he said as he mulled her words aloud.
Layla stiffened slightly when he mentioned her true identity. We both had to wonder if the guard knew what Layla looked like. Maybe he didn’t know, but the lighting wasn’t great either. He may know but hadn’t gotten a good look at her yet
“If you can’t help me,” she pressed, “I could just leave…?”
“No,” the guard barked abruptly. “What was your name?”
Layla gulped. “Penelope.”
“Come closer to the light, Penelope,” the guard ordered. “Lemme’ get a good look atcha.”
I didn’t like this one bit, and neither did Layla, if her tense muscles were any judge, but she complied. The thug looked her up and down, a lecherous leer coming over his face.
“Hm, you’re certainly a pretty little lass.” He chuckled menacingly which sent a chill down my spine. I gripped my knife’s hilt in my right hand, just in case, while I palmed a few of my crystals in my left.
“Thank you, sir,” Layla murmured nervously.
The guard gripped her chin in his meaty hands and turned her face left and right, so he could get a good look at her. “Yes, very pretty. And very… familiar.”
“I don’t think we’ve met before, mister.” Layla’s voice was tense.
“Maybe not,” the guard said. He licked his lips as he cocked his head. “But you look like…” Then he jolted as if he was struck by the realization. “Bethel!”
That was the last thing he said, for Layla was a blur. Faster than I could blink, she thrust her fingers right into his throat. The stiff shot made the thug choke and gag as his hands flew up to his neck and cut off his cry of alarm. Before he could catch his breath, she laid him out with a hard right cross. The guard collapsed in a heap as she sucked in a deep breath.
She’d been so fast I hadn’t even had a second to react.
“Maker…” I breathed. “Could you give me a little warning next time, Layla.”
“Sorry,” she said with a shrug. “He’d put two and two together. He was about to raise the alarm.”
“I know.” I smirked. “I’m just surprised you were so quick. Guess that training is paying off.”
“Guess so.” She flushed as I took a knee by the guard’s body to give him a search.
To my surprise, I noticed that one of what I thought were all knives strapped to the goon was an old flintlock pistol. Primitive, but still effective in a pinch. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I retrieved the gun belt and strapped it over my own belt. Layla grabbed the long dagger the guard had been about to draw in her right hand. She took in a deep breath, then released it as her eyes found mine.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” she asked.
“We go in,” I began slowly as I assessed the situation, “and try to find some high ground so we can see what we’re dealing with. Textile mills are usually wide ope
n, so it should be easy to get a layout. If the numbers favor us, we can unleash hell from that vantage point. Only thing is, we should probably avoid using any fire monsters. Wouldn’t want to burn the whole neighborhood down.”
Layla nodded. “Right. The slums are a giant tinderbox. A fire here could burn half the city to the ground.”
“Exactly.” I nodded. “Honestly, these are just gangsters. Grade E monsters will probably do the trick, especially if they’re all drunk and panic at the sight of monsters in the Enclave.”
“And if they don’t, well, I’ll just summon something bigger.” She gestured at her essence crystals. “Hell, I may do that anyway.”
“Let’s see how it goes first.” With that, it was time, and I pulled the door open. “Follow me.”
We entered the textile mill and found ourselves in a cramped room that was dimly lit by candles. It was cluttered with barrels and boxes and littered with trash and empty beer bottles. The air was musty, almost as if the place was actually abandoned, but there was the sound of laughing and banter ahead, so I knew that wasn't the case at all.
Moving carefully ahead, the room opened to a hallway that branched to our left and right. The one on the right led to a wide-open doorway where the sounds of conversation emanated from. The left also had an opening to what I assumed was the same massive room, but at the end of the hall was another doorway that had the beginnings of a stairwell barely visible beyond it.
I led us to that. The stairs were metal and led up along the brick walls to the catwalk above that looked down onto the entire mill. Layla caught her breath as we both got a good view of the main floor of the mill below us.
A massive open interior stretched out below us where the women used to work, but now several broken spinning machines were pushed against the walls. In the middle of the space was a collection of tables filled with the Drakes. They drank, joked, and milled about, oblivious to us lurking above them.
It didn’t matter, really. Our monsters would clear the place out from top to bottom easily enough, and it was time to get the proceedings started.
