The Flames: Book 2 of the Feud Trilogy

by Kyle Prue

  “You wouldn’t mind proving that, would you?” Barlow asked.

  The Marksman replied with his first strike. He lashed out with a right cross, but Barlow bent out of the way just in time. Darius leapt over the wall of the ring and into the crowd. He found Bianca. “I’m going to stay with Barlow. I don’t want to know what happens if he loses,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said. “Anastasia and I will hopefully find the boss.”

  Darius grabbed his shirt and circled the ring until he met back up with Anastasia. “Stay close,” he whispered. “The guards are eyeing me.”

  He started for the door. A man approached and stopped him right before he was out of the building. “Sir, someone would like to speak with you,” he said as he laid a hand on Darius’s shoulder. “He’ll make it worth your while.”

  Darius did an excellent job of pretending to consider the offer thoughtfully. “What does he want with me?” he asked in his best simpleton voice.

  “He’s got a job offer for you,” the man said.

  Darius smiled like a moron. “Great! Lead the way!”

  The man took him past the ring and down a small staircase. Darius had to turn sideways just to fit. He was led down a hallway to a comically small doorway. “Seriously?“ he asked.

  The guard ignored him and opened the door. Darius shoved his way through. It took him almost a minute. The room was larger inside, but not by much. The two guards on either side of the door didn’t help with the cluttered nature of the room. A stout man with curls and thick spectacles sat behind the desk. He probably weighed more than the desk in front of him. He peered over his glasses. “I hear you’re quite the ruffian,” he said in a voice that was unnaturally whiney.

  “That’s what they say,” Darius said. “You have a job for me?”

  “I might.”

  Darius didn’t want to look impatient but he needed to be sure that this man was Quintus, the Imperial Bookkeeper. “I need a little information first,” Darius said. “Who are you? What would I have to do?”

  The man removed his glasses. “You’d fight anyone I asked you to and take care of anyone who is causing too much trouble.”

  “You own this place?” Darius asked.

  Quintus didn’t stop working. “I move… money through here. As is my right.”

  “People don’t talk about rights very often in Arkney,” Darius said.

  The man narrowed his eyes. “Well every man has the right to property.”

  Darius planted his hands on the desk. “Last I checked the Empire didn’t have the right to operate within Arkney.”

  “Who says I care where the Empire can operate?”

  “That seal on your papers for one,” Darius said. Quintus looked down and realized his papers were in full view and bore the stamp of the Empire.

  The Bookkeeper glared at him. “Listen here you ignorant brute. Not that it’s any of your business, but the Empire can operate everywhere. Arkney is on the landmass and therefore it belongs to us. Remember that.”

  Darius stood upright. That was enough to prove his identity. Anastasia burst through the door and whipped her spike through the first guard’s chest. She rolled behind Darius and swung her fist into the second guard’s neck. Quintus yelped and tried to escape over the table. Darius threw him back into his chair. “Where’s the Imperial Doctor?” Darius asked.

  “You can’t ask to me to disclose that information,” Quintus gasped.

  “I’m not asking. Where is he?”

  The Bookkeeper glared at him. “I won’t talk. He’s the last man on Earth I’d ever dream of selling out.”

  Darius turned to Anastasia. “Should I pull off his fingers?”

  “Oh you Lightborns are all the same!” Quintus moaned.

  Anastasia smiled like a viper and approached the Bookkeeper from the other side of the desk. “Remember this?” she asked as she pulled a pouch from her side. “Nature’s Scream?”

  The Bookkeeper heard what she said and his face lost all color. “Please…” he whispered.

  Anastasia wrapped her chain around him in an instant. He flopped like a newly caught fish. “No!” he screamed.

  “Darius, hold his hands.”

  Darius latched onto the poor man’s hands and locked them in place. She pulled the string on the bag and poured a small bit of the red powder into his screaming mouth. He coughed as it entered and Darius let him go. “That wasn’t much,” he said.

  Quintus’s face turned crimson. Sweat poured down his face and into his agape mouth. He looked like he was trying to scream, but evidently the powder had sucked every ounce of moisture out of his mouth. He fell to the ground and rolled around as if trying to extinguish imaginary flames. “Quintus?” Anastasia said sweetly. She grabbed the pitcher of wine on the table lodged into the corner. “Would you like a drink?”

  He crawled to his knees and begged at her feet silently. “Before you get a single drop…” she said as she began to pour it onto the floor, “we want the Doctor.” The tiny man scrambled toward the puddle but she pushed him away with her foot. “I’ll pour the whole bottle out,” she warned.

  He pointed at his mouth. “He can’t speak,” Darius said.

  “Write then,” Anastasia spat.

  He crawled to his desk and through his tears scrawled out a short message. “Abington,” Anastasia read.

  “Where in Abington?” Darius asked.

  Almost delirious from pain Quintus scrawled another message on the paper. “Library.”

  “Abington has a library?” Darius asked.

  Quintus nodded and his beet red tongue flapped up and down in his mouth. He reached for the bottle. Anastasia smiled and tossed the bottle into the air. It shattered on the ground and he scrambled to the resulting puddle. “I forgot to mention. That won’t help,” Anastasia said. He licked up the wine despite her warning. “If I come back to Arkney and you’re still here, I’ll give you the rest of the pouch.”

  She walked out and Darius followed. “That was pretty brutal,” Darius said.

  “So is preying on liberty,” she said. “Come on. Let’s go get Rhys.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  ARKNEY

  BIANCA BLACKMORE

  Bianca watched helplessly as Barlow and the Marksman went to battle. Victor was much quicker, but constantly being on the move denied him the necessary muscle density Barlow garnered eating and fighting every night. Barlow only landed half as many punches, but it was clear to Bianca that they were far more effective. Victor went for his trademark holds and pressure points. Barlow could anticipate these without difficulty. The Marksman was clearly getting desperate as Barlow moved in with more vicious attacks.

  “You’re strong,” Victor said as he ducked under a right cross. “But you’re slow.”

  He jabbed Barlow between his ribs and the Dealer stumbled back out of range. Victor cocked his head and studied Barlow with his soulless eyes. “I wonder,” he continued as he advanced. “If you’d be quicker without all that alcohol in your system.”

  “I’d be a lot more irritable,” Barlow said. “That’s all we can know for sure.”

  Victor lunged forward more quickly this time and brought his knee up into Barlow’s stomach. Before he could recover the Marksman drove his palm into his nose. Blood squirted onto the Marksman, but he didn’t seem to be bothered. He leapt into the air and roundhouse kicked Barlow across the head. With a mighty thump Barlow fell to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Bianca was tired of watching. She leapt into the ring and snap kicked the Marksman’s feet out from under him. He expertly somersaulted backwards and onto his feet again. He threw an arm against Bianca and she hit her head hard on the ground. Stars appeared and when they cleared, Victor was standing over Barlow. “With every sip you dull your senses,” Victor accused. “You get slower. Venator do not indulge and every single time you do, you make it a little easier for someone to damage the land.”

  “Says the bastard who hunts in packs!” Barlow said. “
And kills for sport.”

  “Not for sport,” Victor said. “For money.”

  He slammed his heel into Barlow’s face a few times silenced him. Bianca stood and raised her fists. “Did you kill him?” she asked.

  Victor leaned his head closer to Barlow. “His heart still beats faintly. A few more kicks should solve that. Like I said before, the foolish don’t deserve mercy.”

  He raised his foot, but Bianca kicked it away from Barlow. She swung at him and he deflected it with his elbow. After taking a step, he slammed the back of her head with his other elbow. She fell to the ground and he kicked her in the stomach for good measure. “You’d make a good assassin Blackmore,” Victor said as he retrieved Barlow’s cards. “You’re talented for someone so young. With discipline and time you could be great. It’s too bad that you chose to get in my way.”

  He selected a card at random and flung it at Bianca. Luckily Anastasia’s chain spike impaled it in mid air. The spectators recognized the danger in a fight that was turning bloody and most had already escaped out of the open double-doors. Victor blocked Anastasia’s attacks as she flung herself into the ring. Her attacks almost seemed half-hearted, as did the way he easily fought her off. Victor seemed to realize his odds were worsening. He leapt from the ring and joined the fleeing crowd. Bianca wanted to follow him, but her stomach roared in protest. The Marksman clearly knew where to hit his enemies to make it hurt. That was his skill: exploiting weakness.

  “Grab Barlow,” Bianca told Darius who had just entered. “He’s critical.”

  “And me?” Anastasia asked.

  “With me,” Bianca said. “I’m going after Victor.”

  “He’ll kill you,” Anastasia said. “You don’t stand a chance.”

  “He can’t beat the both of us.”

  Anastasia didn’t look convinced. Bianca didn’t argue further. She leapt out of the ring and chased Victor into the streets. He hadn’t brought his guns so Bianca was at least hopeful of her chances. She saw him darting down the street toward the edge of town. Bianca followed him with a knife. He must have heard it coming because he whipped around and caught it by the handle. “You could have lived past tonight,” he called.

  She followed up his comment with two more knives. He blocked both and flung one back. She dodged it. Anastasia joined them in the street and hurled her spike. He ducked and caught another one of Bianca’s knives. He chucked it at Anastasia and she was forced to drop her chain to deflect it. He grabbed the chain and expertly flung it at Bianca. It scraped her collar and she fell to her knees howling in pain. The Marksman looked over to Anastasia and dropped the chain. He fled down the street and Anastasia ran to her sister. She sat her up. “You’ll live,” Anastasia said. “Let’s hope the same can be said for Barlow.”

  Chapter Sixty

  OCEAN’S JAW

  NEIL VAPROS

  When Neil had dedicated his service to the shore he didn’t realize that his vow meant life would consist of manual labor. The Tridenti children favored him, of course, so he was allowed to do less than the others, but he still had to spend several hours per day doing whatever was needed for the night’s feast or for the general upkeep of the island. Today that meant retrieving the day’s haul of food from a Tridenti fishing boat on a rowboat. His job was rowing while two other men were to collect the nets and make sure they stayed in the boat while Neil rowed back. “You know Haxon was a good man,” one of Neil’s crewmembers said when they were in the bay. “A lot of people liked him here. There was a lot to him.”

  “There certainly was,” Neil said.

  This only prompted glares from the other two men. Neil didn’t care. The Tridenti liked him. As long as they did, he wouldn’t be harmed. “You know Haxon’s brother is on this island, right?”

  “No,” Neil said. “I didn’t know that. Who is Haxon’s brother?”

  “His name is Earnest Haxon,” one of them said. “I’d be worried. He’s the violent type.”

  “I wonder if it runs in the family,” Neil muttered.

  They retrieved the nets full of fish and Neil rowed back to shore. The three of them pulled it in and Neil surveyed the beach. “Someone’s supposed to come and help us bring these inside, right?”

  “Yeah,” one of the men said. Slyness began to creep into his voice as a crewman bounded toward them. “Here he is now.”

  The new crewman had a rather distinctive mustache and even more distinctive muscles. He brushed by Neil violently and Neil quickly realized whom he was dealing with. “Earnest Haxon, right?”

  Earnest turned around and finally made eye contact with Neil. “Yeah.”

  “I hope there are no hard feelings about your brother.”

  “You’d better believe there are hard feelings,” Earnest said. “George was my best friend. Now he’s rowing off to god knows where. I loved my brother.”

  “Not enough to row with him,” Neil pointed out.

  Earnest glared at him. “You might have the favor of the Tridenti, but they don’t watch you everywhere. I swear by the Golden Light that if you stray from their gaze….” He didn’t complete his threat.

  “What?” Neil asked.

  “I’m just saying.” Earnest picked up a net filled with fish. “I hear you’re not too great a swimmer. Would be a shame to see the ocean take you away from us.”

  “That would be a shame!” Alex said from behind them.

  Earnest jumped as he turned around. Alex was knee deep in the water and stood there expectantly with his arms crossed. He must have swum up while they were talking. Neil hadn’t even noticed him. “If Mamba finds himself in the water, I expect one of you courageous gents to paddle him to shore. We look out for each other here at the Ocean’s Jaw.”

  Earnest said nothing as he shouldered his net of fish and walked off toward the mansion. Neil saluted Alex and he laughed. “Men, take these fish inside. I’ve got to have a word with Mamba.”

  The men complied and Alex waited until they were out of earshot. “Hopefully that won’t be too much of a problem. The Tridenti love you, but a few crewmen are bound to be upset. You can never please everyone.”

  “Then I guess it helps to please those in charge.”

  “Smart thinking,” Alex said. “Just wanted to let you know you’re relieved for the rest of the day. Tonight’s dinner is kind of a big one so you should rest up.”

  “Don’t tell me I have to fight someone again,” Neil said.

  “No, it’s going to be a giant celebration. In the Tridenti family you lose your guppy name when you can swim out into the ocean on your own and bring back an animal larger than yourself. A seven year old cousin of mine brought in a shark, so tonight there’s gonna be a party.”

  “Awesome,” Neil said. “I’ll wash up and see you there.”

  Alex saluted and dove back into the depths of the water. Neil walked to his room with leisure, careful to avoid the men unloading fish. They wouldn’t be happy if they knew Neil had been released from work early. He already wasn’t the most popular fellow on the island. He rounded a corner and almost walked straight into Mama Tridenti. He backpedaled as not to get in her way. “Mamba,” she said.

  “Ma’am,” he replied.

  “I’ve heard many interesting things about you recently.”

  He paled thinking of the previous night with Serena. “You have?”

  “You’re from the Industrial City?”

  “That’s what I’m told. But I really can’t remember. My memories are scattered.”

  “I’ve heard that too,” Mama Tridenti said. There was an unusual connotation in her voice. As if she were suggesting something. Whatever it was Neil didn’t know. “So you’re quite the mysterious fellow.”

  “I suppose so.”

  She smiled at him and continued on her way. The smile was fake, of course. “Oh and Mamba,” she said over her shoulder. “You listened to my speech last night, right?”

  “Of course,” he said. “It was inspiring.”


  “So you know how protective I am of my children. Remember that. They really seem to like you. It would disappoint me, and them, if you weren’t what they expected.”

  “Um… Alright,” Neil said. “Understood.”

  “It better be.”

  With that she turned the corner and disappeared. That was odd. As Neil continued to walk to his room a strong feeling of anxiety settled in his chest. He had a seat at the dinner table, but in no way did he feel truly safe.

  Dinner was fish again. “What kind is this?” Neil asked Serena.

  “Carp. All of it tastes the same though. So get used to the texture.”

  Neil sighed and consumed a forkful. Alex and Serena shoveled it down. They didn’t seem to care at all about the taste, table manners, or that fish had dead eyes. That’s how they were about everything. They had no burdens and no worries. They were lighter than air.

  A silence descended over the hall and Neil turned his head to see Mama Tridenti standing at her table. She had her wooden cup in her hand and she swirled it lightly. “I’m glad we have these dinners,” she started calmly. “Because when there’s only twenty-five of us it means a lot to be a cohesive family. A unit. So these dinners are useful. I also now have the opportunity to address everyone on this island at the same time. So let me begin by telling you all a little story.”

  Neil glanced at Alex and Serena. They looked thrilled to be getting a story from their mother. Neil, on the other hand, was worried. Her words were light and calm, but there were undertones of hostility in her voice. “Do any of you still remember Hector?” she asked.

  A light chuckle went up among the crowd. Serena smiled. “Oh, I love this one,” she whispered in Neil’s ear.

  Mama Tridenti continued. “When my husband passed away I was very lonely for a great while. Sure, I had my beautiful children, but my nights felt empty. So when I was out foraging for food with the parties one day I found a friend out in the swamps. It was a snake.”