The Flames: Book 2 of the Feud Trilogy

by Kyle Prue

  The bar they were in was indicative of the whole town. Everyone looked big and dangerous. Some were even bigger than Darius. Bianca descended the spiral staircase silently and approached her friends. “You were right,” she said to Anastasia. “There’s a group of people playing cards upstairs.”

  “Okay,” Anastasia said. “Then it’s go time for us. We’re looking for a man named Barlow Venator. His hunting name is the Dealer.”

  “What does he sell?” Darius asked.

  “Nothing. He deals cards,” Anastasia said.

  “And how is he going to help us find the Imperial Bookkeeper?” Darius asked.

  “Rumors say that Quintus is here in Arkney,” Anastasia said. “The Dealer is the unofficial leader of this town. If anyone can point us in the right direction, it’ll be him.”

  Bianca checked her knives and made sure she could whip them out without snagging on anything. Darius had noticed that anytime she became nervous her hand flew to her waist, even when she was unarmed. “No need for that,” Anastasia said witnessing her sister’s nervous tick. “He’s one of the good Venator. I’ve met him and he’s an honorable man. He wouldn’t kill a fly.”

  Darius raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I’m hesitant to trust him. Seeing as the last two Venator we’ve met have been murderous lunatics.”

  “The Wolf was trained by the Venator,” Bianca interjected. “He’s not a murderous lunatic.”

  “You don’t get to lead a revolution without a significant body count on your hands,” Darius countered.

  “If context doesn’t matter then we’re all murderous lunatics,” Bianca said.

  “Go team,” Anastasia said sarcastically.

  The group went up the stairs. Darius took it step by step, careful not to shake the bar with his weight. Once they reached the top floor, they came upon a group of men smoking and playing cards in silence. A few of them looked up when they realized they had visitors. “You kids need help?” one at the front asked. He was shuffling cards with such ease that they looked like they were dancing.

  Darius knew he was a Venator upon first sight. He had that razor sharp focus in his eyes and mahogany brown hair. He also had an immaculate pair of muttonchops that fed into an even more immaculate handlebar moustache. It was facial hair so excellent that Darius felt jealousy welling up in his chest. All of Darius’ facial hair grew in blonde and was unsightly for the first couple months.

  “We’re here for Barlow Venator,” Darius said.

  Barlow’s eyes flickered over to Anastasia. “Hey Ann,” he said.

  “Hello,” she said as she curtseyed with an imaginary dress.

  “Ann?” Darius asked quietly enough for no one to hear him.

  “Is this urgent?” Barlow asked.

  “It is,” Darius interjected. “Someone very close to us is in trouble.”

  “Very well,” Barlow said.

  He collected the deck from the center of the table and a few men groaned in displeasure. He stood up and bowed. Before anyone could respond, he was throwing cards at lightning pace. It was silent for a moment. In unison, the men slumped over dead. Darius’s mouth popped open and so did Bianca’s. Anastasia somehow looked unsurprised. “He wouldn’t kill a fly?” Darius breathed.

  “You’re right,” the Dealer said as he collected all of his cards. “I wouldn’t kill a fly. But I sure as hell would kill four Imperial spies in my bar.”

  “How does that even work?” Bianca asked. “You can kill with playing cards?”

  “If you throw them right.” He tossed one into the wall behind them to illustrate his point.

  He assembled the full deck and inserted it into a holster by his side. Anastasia approached without worry, and Darius fought the urge to start throwing punches. He definitely didn’t want her to be next. “Why are there Imperial soldiers in your bar?” she asked.

  “I’ve heard rumors that Quintus is in town,” the Dealer said. “Word is he’s come to Arkney to lay low where there’s no chance of rebels finding him.”

  Anastasia cursed under her breath. “You shouldn’t have killed these men.”

  “I had a losing hand,” he replied. “Something had to be done.”

  “We’re looking for Quintus,” Bianca said. “We need information from him. Those men could have led us right to him.”

  “I see,” Barlow said. “Well, I was looking to take a stab at him as well, so I guess this all shakes out.”

  “You want him too?” Bianca asked.

  “This is a peaceful town,” Barlow said. “It also happens to be my region to protect. I do my best to keep politics out of it. Even if I have to force them out.”

  Anastasia beamed. “Excellent!” she said as if she weren’t standing in front of four bodies. “Looks like we have a new friend!”

  Darius eyed him. “Yeah,” he said with apprehension. “He seems real friendly.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  BRIGHTBOW

  LILLY CELERIUS

  It didn’t take long for the rebel forces to assemble. If they even could be referred to as a force. Including the Wolf and the Jacobson brothers, they were eleven strong. They’d all gathered in the attic of a bakery the eldest rebel owned.

  “These bombs were assembled by the Jacobsons,” the Wolf was dictating. “One in each cart should do the job. The fuse isn’t long so you need to be far away from the supply carts by the time they blow. We estimate… five seconds?” He turned to the Jacobsons.

  “Six seconds,” they said together.

  “Six seconds,” the Wolf repeated.

  “Why aren’t they the one’s setting the bombs?” one rebel asked. “They know them best.”

  “James and Jack aren’t fighters,” the Wolf said. “And you’re likely to run into some well-armed guards. In addition, once the supply carts are destroyed you need to come back to the mayor’s house and defend the entrance until we’re able to wound Carlin. This can’t happen in daylight, so we’ll have one hour to prepare. Hopefully we can get there before Carlin hurts anyone else.” The Wolf’s eyes were sunken and he’d been shaking involuntarily. Lilly knew that the murder of innocent citizens would never have been allowed in his day. She could see the wheels turning in his mind. Exactly how far had the Imperial Military sunk under Carlin’s rule?

  The other rebels gave a small murmur of consent and began to ready their weapons.

  The Wolf pulled the Jacobsons and Lilly aside. “Time to set our plan into motion. Jacobsons, come with me downstairs. We’ve got to loot this bakery for a wardrobe change.”

  “What about me?” Lilly asked.

  “Get an ounce of shut-eye and prepare yourself mentally,” the Wolf said. “Tonight won’t be easy.”

  Lilly smiled at him disingenuously and fell into a sitting position against the wall. The Wolf and the Jacobsons exited. She closed her eyes slowly. She wanted to fight the urge to sleep, but had to admit that she was at the end of her rope. She clenched the hilt of her sword hard and prepared for the inevitable nightmare that was sure to come.

  It was back. Lilly turned in circles trying to figure out where her nightmares were dragging her now. She appeared to be in the entry hall of the Celerius estate, but something wasn’t quite right about the walls. They dripped with wine pooling at her feet.

  Through a doorway came her youngest brother, Thomas, brandishing his rapier. He was running from something. Lilly tried to call to him, but her voice came out in an unnatural groan, as if she were despondent or drunk.

  He turned to face the doorway as General Carlin jogged in wielding his massive broadsword and his even larger grin. “There’s no honor in running, kid,” he cackled.

  Thomas stared deeply into Carlin’s crazed eyes. “You killed Anthony!”

  Carlin opened his arms wide, challenging the young boy. “I’ve heard about you. Tommy, right?”

  Thomas was silent.

  “You read minds? Or parts of them? What good does that do you in a fight?”

  Carlin l
unged forward and Thomas parried. Swing after swing was dodged. Thomas was getting visibly tired. Carlin’s sword was now only missing him by inches.

  “It means I can tell where you’re swinging from next,” Thomas grunted as he blocked a blow and retreated a few steps back.

  Carlin advanced with insanity creeping into his expression. “What happens when you know where I’m coming from and you can’t do anything to stop it?” Carlin brought blow after crushing blow against Thomas’s thin rapier.

  Lilly tried desperately to move or step in, but she found the wine soaked carpet pulling at her feet as if she were sinking in quicksand.

  “There’s so much hatred in you. You want us all dead because you’re jealous. All you want is to impress your father!” Thomas began rattling off whatever he could use to distract Carlin, but nothing worked. Carlin kept swinging until eventually Thomas couldn’t keep up. His rapier clattered to the floor. Thomas stared at it, and then turned back frightfully to Carlin. “You wouldn’t kill an unarmed boy,” he whispered.

  “You’re not as smart as you think,” Carlin said plunging his sword into Thomas’s chest, slightly grazing his fragile heart. Carlin twisted the sword and sneered. “Knowledge is power, Thomas Celerius. But power doesn’t always mean security.”

  Thomas screamed and lashed out with his hands, trying desperately to claw at Carlin’s face. Lilly was now sinking up to her waist in the wine soaked carpet. Carlin twisted the sword a bit further and shushed Thomas. He lowered the boy to the ground as if putting him to sleep. “Look into my mind,” Carlin said quietly. “See what good that knowledge does you.”

  Thomas stared at him, eyes wide and horrified until he went still. Lilly could only gape at her brother while the carpet swallowed her neck and, eventually, her whole head.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  BRIGHTBOW

  VIRGIL SERVATUS

  “You can’t do this to us!” howled an old man. Virgil and his squadron tore through his house looking for secret doors or compartments. “We are friends of the crown!”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Virgil said, “but we’re searching for an enemy of the crown.”

  The man was flustered, but didn’t exactly know how to respond. He watched in awe as the men tore apart his house. “Do you have anything to declare?” Virgil asked. “Secret compartments? Basements?”

  “There’s a basement,” the old man said resignedly.

  “Find the basement, men.”

  It didn’t take long for the hatch down into the basement to be revealed. Virgil pulled it open and stared down into the darkness. “Someone find me a candle or an oil lamp,” Virgil said. “Is there anything down here that could hurt me?”

  The old man rubbed his balding head. “Depends on how much of it you drink.”

  Virgil swung his legs over and hopped down to the basement below. It was nearly pitch black and larger than the entire house above. His view was obstructed by what looked like shelves and shelves of barrels. “You come down here often?” Virgil called up.

  “Old legs,” the man responded. “Can’t really take the jump. I’ve got a kid who comes by and checks on the ale.”

  “Down here!” Virgil called to the men above. A dark basement of this size would be the perfect place for an ambush and there was no way he was going to fumble around in the dark alone. One by one the five soldiers dropped down into the dark room until they could create a defensive formation. One man handed Virgil a candle. “All right men,” Virgil said. “Follow my lead. Be prepared for one of them to jump out or surprise us.”

  He drew his sword and took a few steps forward into the dark. His candle went out. “What the hell?” Virgil said.

  The men began to teeter back and forth anxiously. “Lieutenant Virgil and company,” a cold voice said, “you are a danger to the one I am sworn to protect. For that you must die. Make peace.”

  There was silence for a single second. Virgil cried out first and the men began to scream. They lashed out viciously and without mercy, all in vain. They couldn’t see their attacker. He cut through them fluidly as if he were sliding his sword through water.

  The bodies thumped to the floor. Then there was silence.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  OCEAN’S JAW

  NEIL VAPROS

  The Tridenti fighting pit was small and built like an in-ground campfire. It was outside the back door of the mansion and about thirty feet across. The floor was made of sand and small rocks formed the edges. Neil stood with Alex and Serena as the rest of the islanders gathered around to watch. “Avoid the body slam,” Alex said. “I cannot stress that enough.”

  “Yeah,” Neil said, “I got that part.” He glanced over and realized Haxon had a surprising number of supporters. Three or four men were whispering advice and prepping him for battle. He noticed Neil looking over. “You want some of this?” he screamed as he tore off his shirt.

  Neil wanted none of that. “Don’t answer,” Alex said. “Let him rile himself up on his own.”

  Neil turned back one last time. Without his shirt it was impossible to determine where Haxon’s neck ended on either side. His head was simply smeared into his body as if he were a clay sculpture made by a toddler and the neck had simply been forgotten. Neil also noticed, to his dismay, that Haxon had a lot more muscle than he had previously thought. Neil, on the other hand, had been shedding weight like crazy, mostly because of his hatred of fish. He made the silent resolution to eat more if he survived. Mama Tridenti approached the edge of the pit. “Ready?” she asked Haxon.

  He screamed violently and beat his chest like an animal. “That means yes,” someone from his crowd yelled.

  She turned to Neil. “Ready?” He nodded. “Enter the pit, gentlemen,” she commanded.

  Neil turned back to look at Alex and Serena. She was giving him a thumbs-up and he was rubbing his palms together anxiously. “Go for the neck,” Alex said.

  “What neck?” Neil murmured. He stepped over the rocks and into the ring.

  Haxon looked like he wanted to tear Neil into tiny edible pieces and turn him into a post-dinner snack. Neil squared off against him and raised his guard. “Begin!” Mama Tridenti boomed.

  Haxon sized up Neil and circled him. Neil did the same, even though sizing up Haxon was a far greater task. He looked even larger standing, and Neil felt like a child in comparison. “Ever fought anyone as big as me?”

  “I’ve never even seen anyone as big as you.”

  Haxon slapped his giant belly and a sickening ripple travelled across his midsection. “My mama used to call me her big beautiful baby!”

  “You are one of those things,” Neil said quietly.

  Haxon leapt at Neil with his famous body slam. Neil spun out of reach and Haxon recovered remarkably quickly. Despite the weight he lugged around, Haxon was surprisingly athletic. Neil blocked Haxon’s next swings and jabbed him in the nose. Haxon stumbled back and Neil used the moment to slam his hands on either side of Haxon’s head. Haxon squealed and grabbed his ears, as Neil had just done serious damage to his eardrums. Tears welled up in Haxon’s eyes and he swung harder this time. This strike was too strong to block and Neil only succeeded in spraining his wrist.

  Things weren’t exactly going as planned. Haxon was faster and stronger than he looked. Neil was already getting tired. Haxon head-butted him next and Neil fell to his knees. Before Haxon could slam his full weight into him, Neil threw a handful of sand into his eyes. Haxon swung blindly and Neil used his blindness as an opportunity to make it to his feet and out of range. “You fight like a coward,” Haxon said as he cleared the grains of sand from his eyes.

  “I’ve got to make up for the five hundred pound weight difference somehow.”

  “You think you’re real funny, huh?” Haxon roared in fury. “I’m big boned!”

  “I didn’t realize that bones jiggled!” Alex called from the side of the ring.

  In his infuriated state Haxon swung faster, but these were less accurate. N
eil realized he needed to end this fight while Haxon was busy thinking about something other than pummeling him. Neil landed a few punches, but they practically bounced right off of Haxon’s chest. Whenever Neil made contact with Haxon’s flesh it sounded as if he was punching his hand into wet sand. “Go for the eyes!” Serena called from the sideline.

  “Can’t reach them!” Neil said exasperated.

  Haxon tackled Neil and this time he wasn’t able to squirm away. Haxon began to beat him senseless. Neil took a heavy blow to his eye and cried out in pain. Haxon reeled back for another strike, and Neil lashed out with his fist. By some miracle he found a vulnerable part of Haxon’s non-existent neck. And the beast rolled off of him, gasping for air. As Haxon recovered, Neil turned to his compatriots. “Any ideas?”

  “Knees?” Alex suggested.

  Haxon stood upright and glared at Neil. He was clearly done playing around. Before he could tackle Neil again, Neil delivered a swift ankle breaker and quickly followed with a roundhouse kick to the inner thigh. This was a trick from somewhere deep in his memory. That’s where all the nerves connected. Haxon’s weight forced him to drop to his injured knee. Neil leapt forward with all his might and brought his knee straight into Haxon’s nose. A stream of blood erupted and Haxon blinked slowly as if intoxicated. He fell to all fours and Neil finished him off with an elbow to the temple.

  The behemoth collapsed onto the ground and the crowd burst into applause, all except Haxon’s friends. They just shifted between sympathetically staring at their friend and glaring at Neil. Neil smiled weakly and looked to see Mama Tridenti’s reaction. She gave him an evanescent smile and raised her arms. “Back to the dining hall!” she said. “It’s time to celebrate our new friend, Mamba.”

  Neil trotted over to rejoin Alex and Serena for the walk back to the mansion. They patted him on the back and his heart swelled with pride. This could be a real home for him.