Dungeon Walkers 1

by Daniel Schinhofen

  A female scream had Stern running before he even realized he’d heard it. Cyra, her grandmother... they went for them! his brain told him as his legs stretched out and he ran faster.

  When he turned a corner, he found another scene of carnage. The old woman lay on the ground, her sightless eyes staring up at the sky. Cyra was kneeling beside her, crying and holding her hands. A few feet away from the dead body, Suzana was standing with a bloody hand raised toward two men while a third lay dead behind them.

  “Easy now,” Suzana hissed through gritted teeth. “He died because he killed someone. You two don’t need to die, too.”

  “Can it! We’ll gut you, kill her, then make it back to…!” The man trailed off when Stern came around the corner.

  A streak of gold landed behind the two men. Melia saw that Suzana was injured and her eyes flared. She grabbed both men by the neck and said in a slow, cold voice, “Which of you hurt my wife?”

  “Neither of them,” Suzana said with a wince. “He’s already dead.”

  Gustav, Jaq, and Stella came running up, all of them looking for a fight.

  The two men Melia was holding thrashed. One of them thrust a hand behind him and a burst of fire bloomed from it. Melia let go of them, flinching back as her hair singed and blisters formed on her face.

  One of the men lunged for Suzana while the other spun to slash at Melia. Stern had barely made it a dozen feet before rainbow-hued lights flashed from Stella’s hand, slamming into the man rushing Suzana. He stumbled, staggered, and fell to his knees right in front of Suzana, who slammed her hand into his face.

  The man who’d spun on Melia had almost made contact with his sword when Gustav was suddenly between them, arriving in a blur. His shield caught the strike and he slammed it out, pushing the attacker back a few feet. Three daggers hit the man in the chest in rapid succession. With a wheeze, the sword fell from his hand before he pitched to the ground, lifeless.

  Suzana knelt next to the man she had hit and, with a sigh, drew the dagger from his belt. “You should have listened...” she said sadly before she pushed it into his neck.

  Stern stopped moving, watching Gustav and his friends. “Thank you.”

  Gustav shook his head. “No thanks... We didn’t make it in time.”

  Suzana came toward him and Cyra. “I failed. I never thought they’d attack first. I thought I had time. If I hadn’t hesitated, she’d be alive.”

  Cyra sniffled. “They killed her because of me...”

  Her pain hit Stern full force and he grunted. “No, they killed her because of who they were... Self-important assholes. You knew something they didn’t want getting out.”

  She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes. “I told them ‘no.’ That was all. I refused, and then they killed me.”

  Stern staggered back a step as her emotions climbed higher. “They deserved what they got. Sadly… they hurt you a bit more first.”

  Suzana knelt beside Cyra. “Miss, calm yourself.” Her tone was gentle as a peacefulness radiated from her. “What happened isn’t your fault. Don’t let them dictate your feelings.”

  Cyra hiccupped a sob, but her pain and grief faded a little under Suzana’s soothing emotion. “She said someone saved me... someone recovered me for nothing. Me... Saved me…”

  Stern staggered back farther as Cyra cried softly.

  Pawly meowed, stepping closer to Cyra.

  Stern quickly reverted Pawly to her normal cat form, not wanting to upset her more than she already was. He was dimly aware of the fact that the blood that had coated her was no longer there.

  Pawly pushed up under Cyra’s arm and purred, bumping her leg. Cyra blinked at the cat suddenly rubbing on her, then hugged Pawly to her chest and wept.

  Whistles started to blow in the distance and Gustav sighed. “Well, this is going to be messy...” Looking over at Stern, he was about to tell the young man to leave but then saw the blood on him. “Very messy.” He shook his head.

  “We knew it might be,” Stella said. “I’m betting that it’ll amount to nothing by the time it ends. It’s clearly self-defense.”

  “Petty politics,” Jaq said. “Should I go see about rounding up the crew that helped get her shards?”

  “That’d be for the best. Inform the Walkers that they need to be aware, too. I have a bad feeling about this...”

  Jaq nodded, jogging away as whistles came closer.

  Stern leaned back against the wall behind him and slid down it. The sea of emotions from Cyra and Suzana had his mind spinning, and he was struggling to free himself from it. It wasn’t easy, though, as his own mind was weighing heavily on him.

  I killed him... He was alive and I held him and I shoved the dagger into him, over and over. Stern’s mind spun over the memory of him ending a life. He breathed raggedly as the image replayed on a loop. When a hand touched his shoulder, Stern jerked. He latched onto the wrist and turned it on reflex.

  Gustav hissed and spun with the movement. “Stop it, pup.”

  Stern released his hand and blinked up at Gustav with a blank stare. “Sorry...”

  Gustav exhaled and sat down beside him. “First time?” Seeing Stern’s blank look, he tried again. “First time taking a life outside of a dungeon?”

  “Hunting.”

  “Killing a person?” Gustav clarified, knowing that Stern was likely in shock.

  “Yeah...” Stern whispered, his emotional turmoil subsiding some as Pawly and Suzana helped calm Cyra. “I stabbed him… and stabbed him… and stabbed him.”

  “Easy,” Gustav said as the whistles drew closer. “Did he attack you first?”

  “Had his sword out… came at me,” Stern replied distantly. “Pawly went for Skippy. When he screamed, the other one… Klein… he spun back to attack Pawly. Disarm, tried to stop him, dagger, fight for it, stabbed him… stabbed him again…”

  “Yeah, self-defense,” Gustav said easily. “The guards are coming. They’re going to arrest all of us… except maybe the girl. You need to remember what you just said. He came for you, you defended yourself. Remember that.” The last two words held iron as he stared at Stern.

  Stern’s breathing slowed and he closed his eyes before shuddering. “Self-defense. Nothing wrong with defending others.”

  “That’s right,” Gustav said, hoisting himself to his feet as the guards came around a corner. “Now just wait here.”

  The two guards who arrived first slowed upon seeing the dead.

  “Gentlemen,” Gustav said, moving forward with his hands empty. “Self-defense happened. Calm yourselves, please.”

  “Walker,” one of them said, pointing to Gustav’s badge clearly displayed on his chest.

  “You call four dead self-defense?” the second guard asked incredulously.

  “I do when they keep attacking,” Gustav said. “Now, I know you have to take us in, and we’ll go… but the young woman was just reborn and her grandmother was killed by the three dead here. She needs to see the sisters again.”

  The two guards exchanged a look, but before they could say anything, a squad with a sergeant came running up. “What in the Goddess’ name happened here?!” the sergeant snapped as he moved forward.

  Gustav sighed and tried again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stern sat on the stone bench and exhaled slowly. Gustav sat beside him, looking bored and tapping one foot impatiently. Across the room behind a different set of bars, Melia, Suzana, and Stella waited on their own stone bench.

  “This is taking far too long...” Suzana said.

  Stern’s eyes dropped to the gash in her tunic, where her abdomen was visible. The wound had been healed with a salve before the guards took them away. She got that wound saving Cyra... while I stopped to kill a man, she was there to try saving a life.

  “Far too long,” Gustav grimaced. “What are they doing?”

  As if on cue, the solid oak door opened at the end of the room. The sergeant who had arrested them entered, looking grim.
“Mixed Heritage, come to the doors.”

  “Why just us?” Gustav asked, not moving.

  “You are deemed to have defended your companion who was, in turn, defending a newly-reborn,” the sergeant said. “The… other… is different.”

  Stern still felt the implied word before the sergeant had continued. Blighted, freak, mutant, abomination— I’ve heard them all, Stern snorted to himself. Guess “murderer” can be added to that now.

  Gustav stayed where he was. “How so?”

  “That isn’t your concern,” the sergeant nearly growled as he unlocked the door to the women’s cell. “Out now, or we’ll have you on obstruction.”

  Suzana stood up fluidly and went to stand a foot away from the guard. “Trumped-up charges and falsehoods will not stick. Sticking with a sinking boat will only sink you, as well.” Her words were cool and pointed, but she didn’t stay to hear his reply— she moved past him and down the hall.

  Melia and Stella were right behind her, and both of them gave Gustav a look as they went. Gustav gripped Stern’s shoulder for a moment before he stood and went to the cell door. The sergeant unlocked it, let Gustav out, and locked it behind the dwarf. He followed Gustav out of the room, the heavy door booming closed behind them.

  With the cell room empty except for him, Stern exhaled slowly. I hope Cyra made it back to the sisters’ care. Maybe they can help with her anguish? Pawly went with her... wish I could see through her eyes like some summoners can...

  ~*~*~

  Stern didn’t know how long he’d sat there before the door opened again. Blinking as he was yanked from his thoughts, he was surprised to see a rotund man in rich silks standing there. The man was staring at him with a neutral expression, but the anger radiating off of him was nearly a physical attack to Stern.

  “Give me a minute alone,” the man said imperiously.

  “Yes, sir,” someone said before the door shut behind him.

  With slow measured steps, he moved like he owned the world. He came to a stop in front of Stern’s cell and his hatred increased. “You killed my son.”

  Stern exhaled and stood, making the man tilt his neck back to meet his gaze. “Your son killed himself,” his words trembled with anger. “All he had to do was leave her alone, but he couldn’t do that, could he? What he tried to do would have come to light and that would have been disastrous for him and you.”

  His nostrils flared and his florid face paled. “You dare speak to me like that?”

  Stern laughed darkly as his own anger surged. “You…? What are you? You might be the mayor of this city, but that doesn’t matter.”

  Skippy’s father took a step back— Stern was radiating power that the mayor hadn’t expected. His blue-gray eyes glinted with the promise of death as his pale hands curled into fists.

  Shaking the sudden feeling of death off, the mayor’s lips peeled back into a snarl. “I will have your head!”

  The door boomed open and the mayor’s head whipped around to face it. “I told you…!” He trailed off when he saw it wasn’t the guard in the doorway.

  “Mayor, what are you doing speaking to my defendant?” the man in the door asked pointedly.

  “Roger,” the mayor spat the name. “I merely came to ask him why he callously cut down my son.”

  “He came to threaten me and promise that he’d have my head!” Stern hissed.

  “Hmm... intimidation of a man in custody?” Roger asked with a knowing nod. “I should fetch the commander.”

  “Bah!” the mayor spat as he waddled quickly toward the door. “Lies, just like the ones he will try to spin before the judge! You couldn’t stop me from becoming mayor, so now you’ll try to soil my son’s name and let his killer go free?!”

  Roger stepped aside. “No. I will see that the truth is told and that an innocent man goes free. The people of this city made a grave mistake and maybe, they will see that shortly.”

  The mayor sneered as he passed Roger. “Always so high and mighty, and yet you lost and are still bitter.”

  Roger didn’t reply— he just walked toward Stern. His gaze was inquisitive and, though he held his emotions tightly, a faint feeling of worry seeped from him. Stern backed away from the cell door and sat on his stone bench. Brow furrowed, he was surprised at how well Roger was able to control himself. The two men just watched each other as the door closed, sealing them into the cell area.

  “You look like a blighted, but that just means you must be an irregular,” Roger said. “Not many of you around… doesn’t help that your kind used to be killed at birth. Must’ve been rough growing up.”

  Stern didn’t reply.

  “Talkative, too,” Roger sighed. “Look, son, you have two counts of murder hanging over you, one of them being the mayor’s son, Skippy, and the other his best friend, Klein. The rest of his inner circle were killed by Mixed Heritage, defending a newly-reborn woman. They’ve been let go, as someone was brave enough to come forward and give a statement about seeing the attack. You… well… there are a number of witnesses that say you confronted Skippy and his friends in the street.”

  Stern stayed silent.

  “I’m your defender. You’d normally have to find one yourself, but as you guessed, the mayor and I don’t have the best relationship. The Walkers hired me to defend those who’ve already been freed, so I took on your defense on my own.”

  “To fuck him over?” Stern asked bluntly.

  “No, because I’ve already heard the story of you bringing her shards out. I was speaking with an old friend at the Walkers’ hall last night when a group came in to celebrate their completed run and the rather generous payment they received for picking up two of the four shards.”

  Stern looked at the floor. “They did what they should have, what all Walkers should do.”

  “That’s a debate that’s been ongoing for a few decades now,” Roger said, “and it normally never comes close to any of the three lowest cities, except for one key point— six people went in and five come out, unblemished. I was able to verify that today before I was called to defend people.”

  Exhaling slowly, Stern raised his eyes to Roger. “What are our chances?”

  “Almost zero,” Roger admitted. “The head judge who’ll take this case is a long-time friend of Victor… the mayor. They’ll stack everything, but I’ll do my very best to see you cleared.”

  Stern stood and went up to the bars of the cell. “My bag at the inn... there’s a small pocket sewn into the bottom of it. Inside is a letter. Use it to make it fair, but… promise me you’ll keep it as tightly guarded as you can, then return it to the pocket, please?”

  Roger’s lips pursed. “I’ll look into it. First, tell me the story from the start. You were going on a run yesterday…?” He went into the open cell across from Stern and took a seat.

  Stern went back to the bench and sat down. “It was my run to finish off my badge. Easy in and out, some loot, and then up to Whitewater. That’s what I’d thought, but there was an old woman crying at the dungeon entrance…”

  ~*~*~

  Roger looked thoughtful as he stood up. “And Pawly is with her still?”

  “I don’t know,” Stern said. “I could recall her, but that might not be the best for Cyra right now.”

  “She was taken back to the temple?”

  “Two guards escorted her away,” Stern said. When he did, a spike of fear hit his gut.

  “Calm yourself,” Roger said, seeing his fear bloom. “That was before it was known Skippy was dead. I’ll check on her and make sure she’s safe.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Thank me if I get you free.”

  Stern snorted. “I’ll end up free one way or another. The question is just how bad it gets before then.”

  Roger’s lips pursed. “Son, look, don’t go doing anything to make matters worse. No escape attempts or the like, okay?”

  “I won’t. You’ll understand when you read the letter. This isn’t h
ow I ever envisioned needing to use it, but as my father says, ‘Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.’”

  “That’s true enough,” Roger agreed as he got to his feet. “Just stay calm and wait. I expect them to bring you before the judge tomorrow. They’ll try to limit how much time I have, which means I need to get things moving.”

  “Should I trust the food?” Stern asked as Roger was on his way to the door.