The Colburns had been one of last honest merchant families in Archon, and also, once up a time, the wealthiest. They had a very profitable shipping business and had owned several warehouses on the docks.
But as with anything that honest, they simply couldn't survive in Archon. Not after the Ravens had come into power. Destitution followed financial ruin for the Colburn family after severe and almost vicious shakedowns by the Ravens and even the corrupt Aegean guards. Other merchants such as Garvin, who were more willing to bend the rules and had ties with the Ravens, slowly ousted them from their place.
They finally sold everything except the one single warehouse on the docks. The last son of the Colburn family decided to keep it as a symbol of the once-prosperous family's power and holdings on the docks.
The family having died out, the warehouse was still under their name, but it had been abandoned for years. There were some disturbing rumors that the ghosts of the family gathered there and exacted vengeance on anyone who tried to take ownership of it—alleged distant relations, Black Ravens, and independent merchants. No one knew the real story, but Riven knew no one wanted the warehouse.
Toskk must have already gone in.
Riven kept climbing along the side of the warehouse until he saw a hole through which he could enter.
He gripped his new blade as he knelt and crawled into the hole. He hadn't much practice with it, but he had tested its sharpness. And it was the sharpest blade he had ever seen, let alone owned. With enough effort, it could even cut through metal.
He also put on the shadowy cloak that he had taken from the slain man in the sewers. It didn't shimmer as it did when the man wore it, but it was enough to make him almost invisible if he remained still in the dark.
Pulling on the cloak tightly around him, he crawled onto the rafters.
He was pretty high up now, and he could see the entire floor.
There were several rotted crates piled in the corners, and the entire warehouse was musty. And dark. The only light inside the warehouse was moonlight pouring in from the numerous holes on the roof. And light from the street lamps, which also poured in from similar corroded holes on the sides of the warehouse.
The rafters themselves were in a dark area. Dark enough that no one standing down below would be able to see him. Especially not with his cloak. It would give Toskk a scare if Riven dropped down from above him when he gave the signal. He smiled to himself as he imagined his brother being surprised.
You'll break your legs if you fall from this height, said the voice.
True, thought Riven.
Toskk appeared to have already met the mage. All Riven had to do now was wait for Toskk to give him the signal.
Riven narrowed his eyes to get a better view of the two men talking. He focused his hearing to be able to listen to what they were saying.
The two stupids were talking in such low voices even inside an abandoned warehouse. When he strained himself, he could finally hear their voices clearly. They seemed to be arguing.
The focus was suddenly disturbed when he caught some movement from the corner of his eye. Startled, Riven looked for the source of the movement.
The ground! There was something moving under the ground!
Riven was about to yell out a warning to his brother when his head exploded with pain. Riven ground his teeth and gripped the rafters tightly. It was all he could do to stop himself from falling.
Run! the voice roared inside his head. Escape! Now!
No, answered Riven.
In perfect unison, three spots on the ground around the two men erupted as three men shot out from beneath the ground. Assassins.
Riven tried to scream, but something was clamping his mouth shut. It was almost as if his lips were being sown together.
The voice! It was doing this to him!
Riven screamed in his head at the voice, commanding it to release him.
No, fool! Run! the voice screamed again.
I can't leave Toskk.
You can't save him, said the voice. If you get caught, the both of you will die!
Toskk had already engaged the three assassins in battle. Explosions. Riven felt as if his breath was being taken away.
More people had joined the fray now. Mages. No, Summoners. There were three of them.
Let me go, screamed Riven. There was nothing Toskk could do against so many enemies alone.
He can't do anything but neither can you! Run! Now! The voice became a shrill scream inside his head.
It was right, thought Riven, gasping for breath as his mouth relaxed.
"Well, what do we have here? I almost didn't see you there. C'mere you little runt!"
Riven turned around to see a hooded man crouching on the rafters behind him. He had been careless and too absorbed in the battle down below and fighting against the voice to notice the man creeping in behind him.
"You Toskk's little brother? Your bastard brother's in a world of trouble now. If you—"
All the frustration locked up inside Riven in the last few moments released itself as his hand drew the silver blade out from his belt and cleanly across the man's face.
Not good. He had aimed for the man's throat, but although taken by surprise, the assassin had well trained reflexes.
Obviously, he hadn't expected anyone else on the rafters. And as trained as the Black Raven was, Riven doubted he was practiced in combat in such a place. The rafters were wide enough for Riven, with his small frame, to stand on with both legs. The man, however, had to put one leg behind the other just to stand there.
Clutching his face with both his hands, the man lurched back. He should have fallen, but he seemed to have maintained his balance, drawing his own weapon with one hand while still clutching his wounded face with the other. It was a long sword.
There was no way Riven could win in a duel against him.
The only escape now was the hole, and this man was standing in between Riven and his escape.
Thinking quickly, Riven drove the silver blade into the wood of the beam near his legs. The blade was sharp enough to pass through it like butter. Just in time. Riven moved back several paces as the man's long sword swung in a large arc in front of his face.
"You're dead, you little shit! Worse than dead!" yelled the man.
Even in the darkness, Riven could see the bright-red line across his face from cheek to cheek.
Riven turned around and ran in the opposite direction. His plan simply had to work. There was no other way out.
The man gave chase, and, as Riven had expected, the man's anger and impatience got the better of him. Riven heard a grunt, and then a startled yell as the man tripped on the hilt of Riven's blade while giving chase.
The stubborn man was still trying to retain his balance as Riven pivoted and ran back towards the stumbling man. Running across him, Riven shoved the man, tipping him over. With a scream, the man fell to the floor.
The noise seemed to have quieted down below. The attackers must have subdued Toskk by now.
"That's Rick. What the hell happened?"
"Did he fall?"
"There's someone up there."
Not good. Riven pulled out his blade from the rafter and started moving toward the hole.
A bright-red star whizzed past him and struck the roof of the warehouse. Two more followed, striking the roof, giving off light in all directions.
"I see him!"
"It's the kid brother. Get him!"
Without wasting time, Riven ran. He could feel heat and vibrations as spells were launched up into the rafters, aimed at him. One of the stars struck the wooden beam and the space in front of him erupted in a violet flame.
The beam had been severed in two.
The portion he was on started falling.
Jump, screamed the voice.
Riven leapt across the fire, barely catching the other burnt end. He heard a loud thud as the beam crashed to the floor behind him. Riven climbed onto the beam and made his way to the hole again.
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He heard several whizzing noises. Crossbow bolts.
"Leave him, you bastards! You have me!"
He felt a burning pain on the back of his thigh as one of the metal bolts struck home. He tried to scream, but he knew he had to keep running. He leapt through the hole as another burning red star exploded behind him.
He tried holding on to the side of the warehouse as he rushed down the side, but he was losing balance. They would be outside the warehouse in moments.
Letting go halfway down the ladder, he jumped to the floor.
His bad leg exploded in pain as he landed.
Riven screamed and spat blood.
He needed to pull out the bolt. The pain was unbearable.
Not now! Run!
His head started to ache, as it often did when he tried to ignore the voice. He heard voices behind him. The attackers had made their way outside the warehouse. Holding the bad leg, Riven limped away as fast as he could.
*
"Leave him alone! Let him go!"
"Be quiet!" yelled one of the stockier thieves, slamming a fist into Toskk's face as two others held his hands behind him.
Coran wanted to look away. It was strange, but the smell of magically burnt flesh or bodies severed in half did not bother him as much as physical violence did.
There was more screaming from the Raven named Rick. The idiot had fallen off the rafters and landed on both feet, breaking them. Being slightly more well versed with healing than the Summoners, Coran volunteered to look at the man's wounds. He had a clean cut across the face that was bleeding profusely. His kneecaps had been shattered by the impact from the fall.
There were a total of six Black Ravens here, and three Summoners. Three of the Ravens were restraining a wounded Toskk, while one lay on the floor. Their leader was the girl named Adrianna. She had sent the two remaining Ravens to search for the boy.
Nadia and the two Summoners had their eyes fixed on Toskk.
"Well?" asked Adrianna as the two Ravens came back. From the looks of it, they didn't have the boy with them.
"We followed the trail of blood," said one, "and it ended at a sewer hole next to the warehouse."
"The sewer?"
"Yes. The grating was removed, so we're sure he went down there."
"Then what the hell are you doing here? Go down there and look for him!" she commanded.
The two thieves looked at each other.
"What? He's a damn kid. How hard can it be? He's probably in shock from the wound. He must be hiding right by the ladder below. Go back down there, and don't come back until you've found him."
Adrianna turned to one of the thieves, who was restraining Toskk.
"Aeneas. Go with them," she said.
"Sending three grown men to look for a little boy?" asked Coran.
"Don't tell me how to do my job, mage," she blurted out.
Coran raised his hands in apology. The three thieves departed towards the sewer entrance.
"He must have been really desperate to have escaped into the sewers," said Coran.
Adrianna didn't bother responding to Coran's observation.
"We got what we came here for. Let's get back to the guild-hall," shouted Adrianna to the remaining people.
*
Getting them to follow him was the easy part.
All they looked for was the trail of blood. Riven smeared it along the walls, leading them deeper into the sewers.
He hoped desperately that they wouldn't give up the chase and leave. Not after all the effort—and blood—he had wasted in getting them to follow him. What was more, those idiots had slowed down considerably the deeper they got into the sewers.
Riven had to stop moving for a few minutes to let them catch up to him. Riven turned back to see the lamps get brighter as they closed the distance between them.
Almost there, thought Riven with satisfaction.
The smell was getting worse, but they wouldn't know the difference. The entire sewer probably smelled the same to them. Dirty.
But if you wanted to survive in the sewers, there were a plethora of smells you needed to get used to and learn to recognize. They were useful. Some smells indicated water sources; some indicated the presence of human dwellers.
Some others indicated dangers. Dangers best avoided.
Riven followed one particular smell. It was the one he hated the most. One that had nearly killed him almost a year ago when he had been exploring the sewers.
"I think I can see him!" echoed a voice behind him.
It was important to let them see him periodically, lest they assume they had lost him and give up.
Riven counted three men. His plan should be more than enough to handle them.
He kept walking, and the smell got stronger. It was almost unbearable at this point, but thinking about how much it would bother the thieves made it more tolerable.
He saw a pile of wooden boards strewn across the floor. Riven was the one who had placed them there not too long ago.
He didn't have too much time.
As carefully as he could, he pulled back some of the boards, ensuring that only the weakest, most rotten and thinnest boards covered the hole in the floor.
Boards that would easily give way to the weight of a full-grown man. Once he was satisfied, he waited on the other side and looked at his handiwork. There were boards littered all along the way, so the pursuers would have no reason to suspect these of being a trap.
"There he is. C'mere, you little prick! Making us run this far!"
Taking a few steps back, Riven looked them in eyes, issuing an unspoken challenge to come and get him—if they dared.
The voice told him there was no need to panic. The greatest mistake the idiots had made was underestimating him.
Two of the thieves stepped on the rotten boards at the same time. With a loud crack, the boards gave way at once, pulling them down into a hole.
Riven heard the sound of them landing.
It was the noise that came next that sounded like music to Riven's ears.
High-pitched squeaks punctuated by human screams. The sounds grew louder and more pathetic within moments.
The third thief burst into view and stopped in his tracks as he saw the large hole in the ground. He saw Riven but ignored him for the moment as he carefully walked toward the hole.
The thief looked down into the hole and recoiled in horror as the screams continued. Falling to his knees, he started vomiting uncontrollably.
Riven quietly walked around the hole, looked down and saw them.
Hundreds of large sewer rats tearing into the flesh of the humans who had dared to disturb their nest. One of the thieves in the hole was still whimpering, but the other one was long dead. Either that or one of the larger dog-sized rats had torn his throat open. In a few minutes, there would only be bones.
The third thief was in shock, and still vomiting, but Riven was careful.
Standing behind him, he drove his blade into the man's back, careful to avoid his heart and lungs. The man screamed as the blade penetrated him. With both hands, Riven twisted the blade, causing the man to buckle and fall to the floor.
"You sick little bastard!" he screamed, regaining his composure.
Riven knelt and took away the man's blade. To ensure that the man wouldn't attack him, Riven drove the blade into his hand, causing him to scream more.
"Where's my brother?" asked Riven calmly.
"At the guild-hall. Where do you think!" he screamed.
Riven put a foot on the blade and pressed down, driving it deeper through the man's hand, severing bone and flesh. There was no point in asking him any questions. Riven already knew everything there was to know.
"You son of a bitch! You think you're smart, don't you? What the Summoners will do to your brother—you'll wish he was dead."
Riven shuddered as he thought about that. They were madmen. And Toskk was really in a lot of trouble now.
Keep calm, said the voice. They'll
torture him and hurt him, but they can't kill him. Not while you have the egg, it said.
That much was true. Riven held back tears. He really wished they hadn't gotten Toskk, but it was done now.
"Crying, eh? They'll get you too. You have the egg, don't you?" he said with a mocking smile on his face. "They'll make the both of you look at each other as they—"
Riven planted his boot on the thief's face, violently smashing his head into the sewer tunnel. That shut him up. He kicked him once more across the face, causing him to roll over onto his belly.
The tears gave way to anger and rage.
He thought at first to push this man into the rat's nest as well, but that would be letting him off too easy. The rats were too many and too hungry—it would be over in minutes. Besides, the thief was too large to drag into the hole.
Looking at the man's wound had given him an idea.
Riven looked at the wound on his thigh. The blood had clotted as soon as he'd removed the bolt. It was hurting, but thankfully the wound wasn't life threatening. With both hands, Riven squeezed the wound, causing the clot to break and the wound to open.
Riven ground his teeth through the pain.
When the blood flowed enough, he took a small quantity in his cupped hand and poured it onto the thief's wound on his back.
"What are you doing?" asked the thief with a frightened voice.
Fear. That was the first emotion any creature that touched his blood had.
This fool will soon learn a fate worse than death, the voice told him. It seemed incredibly pleased with Riven's choice.
Riven turned away and started walking towards an exit. He needed to think. More than that he needed information. Had the Ravens suddenly allied with the Summoners? He'd thought they were at each other's throats after looking at the demolished brothel belonging to Ceívar.
Perhaps some of them had allied with the Summoners. This meant that there was a rift in the Ravens. A plan was slowly beginning to take form in his head.
Chapter 64
Intrigue in the mines was what Azrael had expected when Brock told him of the shipment. How wrong he had been.
They were in the third level now, sitting behind a rock for what appeared to be two whole hours while waiting for the last mine cart to be 'ready.' Now what that word meant to the slavers, Azrael couldn't begin to imagine. As far as Azrael could see, there were three massive carts, and all three were filled with iron ore, but none of them were moving.
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