by J. B. Garner
The hovels and slum buildings were mostly wood, but there was enough stone in their walls to be some small protection from the growing inferno, so I kicked in the first door I came to in the alley. I wracked my brain as I ran across the building, trying to remember every detail of the Chief's map, plotting my best course with the least exposure to get to the Foi homestead itself. We had made the push to the halfway point, so it was only a half-block or so until I reached my goal.
As with the grand melee itself, it would be impossible to recount precisely my mad dash through the growing fires and choking ash. The Pit creature seemed indiscriminate in its destruction, but it made a certain twisted sense. The Ragnard had violated my mind with temptations of hungers fulfilled, and what is it that feeds fire but the fuel that lay all about?
With burning embers nipping at my boot heel, I threw myself through an empty window frame into a side street that was barely of a size to be called such. The home I had just ducked through was being rapidly consumed as I picked myself up out of the muck, right in front of the low wall that surrounded the Foi homestead.
The largest building in this cluster of tenements, it was a full two stories, arranged in a U-shape. The entrance lay in the courtyard formed by the two side wings and obvious effort had been expended to make this the best maintained building as well. The flames and the beast had so far left it untouched, even as screams and shouts still carried in the heat-stirred winds behind me. Good, there were some still left alive, hopefully more than I expected there to be.
I tried to suck in some clean air as I boosted myself over the wall, but only ended up with a horrible coughing fit. I'm still mulling over whether I should give up smoking after this case or not, assuming I see it to its end. As I fought with my cough, stumbling in a low gait towards the side of the building, it was simple to see that going up the main walk was suicide. A vicious three-way fusillade would undoubtedly be the only welcome for any going that way.
My eyes squeezed shut for a moment; I forced myself to stop coughing and concentrate. I opened them again to greater clarity as I peeled myself off the wall I had pressed myself against. While I had to be careful and move as silently as I could allow, there was also little time to spare. I still had the insane hope that perhaps I could do something to save some of my fellow Watchers, so I put that hope into action, applying a quick, short jab with my truncheon to the nearest window. Above the cacophony of violence, no one would notice a few panes shattering. Knocking the remaining shards free, I made my entrance through the now-clear window.
As to be expected in a house expecting a siege, the rooms I slipped through were dark and mostly abandoned. I figured at the time that Yung had probably concentrated what men he had, with a large force to hold the Watch back in the slums outside and the rest in the upper floors to best keep watch and rain arrows down on any approaching the main building. With that thought, a curse echoed in my skull. If I had realized that sooner, a more surgical approach might have saved lives. My Moral Compass burned with guilt, but I ignored it, refocusing on my surroundings.
What was also obvious through the dark was the degree the Foi clan had mimicked their patterns on the Empire of Cats itself. Smuggled Tianese décor covered the walls and the lower-sitting furniture style, favoring pillows and perches for the flexible Myan Folk over solid Aard seats and benches, dominated. Despite the haphazard arrangements, the wealth in smuggled goods alone was incredible. Forcing myself to stop appreciating the decorating and perk my senses, I caught a whiff of strong incense backed with a hint of blood, accompanied by rushed whispers too low to make out. The only thing I could pick out for sure was Yung's deep, commanding voice among them.
I slowed, lost for a moment in timelessness as I crept slowly to the next door, a sliding, waxed paper affair. Light cast shadowy figures through the semi-transparent panels, unidentifiable in their distortion. I had beaten both the flames and the silver arrow I was honestly expecting. With that thought of a good deal in my head, I took a deep breath, pulled my crossbow, and threw open the sliding panel.
Yung Foi and his last living brother, Eising, were in the middle of a fierce, if quiet, debate in the center of the room, which looked to be the central entrance hall of the building. A small, portable shrine of some black, light-eating stone sat on the ground a few paces from them, two clay burners filed with smoldering incense sticks. The air was heavy with the heady smoke and the altar itself was splattered with blood, blood that also marked the fur of both of the Foi. Though I could make out the words they were saying, the language was some strange pidgin of Tianese and Aardlandian and the hybrid was unintelligible to me.
Seizing the moment, I aimed at Yung, keeping my back to the wall. Summoning up my most commanding tones, I caught their attention by shouting, “Yung and Eising Foi, you are under arrest for smuggling, assault on Watch officials, consorting with creatures of the Pit, and violating the Emancipation! Raise your hands and stand down!”
There was a tense moment of surprise with the two of them as they scanned the room, arms tentatively rising. Yung was cagey; he at least would see I was by myself in mere moments so I had to press the situation.
“The rest of the squad will be breaking down those front doors any moment, Yung. Don't think about doing anything stupid.” I scowled as I swept my aim sharply between the two brothers. “You should be thankful. You two might live through the night in protective custody.”
Yung's eyes narrowed as Eising started to make a shuffle step behind his brother. “What hunts us is nothing your stupid Gaols can shield us from.” Gods, if he wasn't a criminal thug, I would have wanted to bed him, his form composed entirely of steely muscles and raw charisma. “There's only one way to save ourselves.”
Seeing Eising's creep, I focused on him, about to shout a command to stay in the open, when Yung exploded into motion like a released spring, drawing a wicked-looking straight razor. Honed instincts guided my aim as I snapped the crossbow up, putting a bolt straight into the elder Foi's shoulder. My rational mind caught up to those instincts a moment later to realize they had been mistaken, as Yung's lunge had been a distraction to let Eising slip into the shadowed corners of the chamber.
I had a fresh bolt knocked and the bow cocked within moments, but Yung had no more intentions to advance. Instead he had a sick smirk on his lips, a hand to his shoulder to staunch the seep of blood down his arm. He seemed so content that I thought he was about to purr.
I tried to ignore him as he began to speak again, no doubt using his voice to cover Eising's movements. “We will only live if we can deliver your blood to our master. He was not pleased that you turned down his offer. It makes you uncontrollable.” He growled. “If we give him you, prove we aren't failures, he will also keep us safe from that murdering golem.”
“Do you think that Pit beast will let you go just for me? I'm flattered, but your only chance is to give up and hope we can get you to Nym's Cathedral in time. That is the only safe place in the City.” I sidestepped towards the nearest corner, eyes flashing from shadow to shadow. Even if I caught Eising first, Yung would charge at the same time and tear me apart, even with a bolt in his arm. Stalling was my best hope, even if it was a faint one as the sounds of fire roared closer.
“Everything follows laws, even our Lord in the Shadows. Even if he doesn't, your meddling in our clan's affairs has led to our downfall. Your death would be a balm to me, no matter what else happens.” There was an almost imperceptible twitch of Yung's brow, some slight motion, a signal that I barely caught in time.
Eising let out a shrill roar as he rushed forward from the shadows to the right as Yung ducked back, digging into a belt pouch. I fired as I moved, firing a wild, low shot at the younger Foi's legs in an effort to take him out of the fight. A screech of pain and a flash of blood let me know my aim was true while Yung moved with fluid grace, pulling out and hurling what my alchemical training registered as a smoke egg. A hollow, thin shell filled with a mixture that reacts with ai
r, it can fill an opera hall with a thick, ground-hugging mist, so its effect in that considerably smaller chamber was magnified.
That was when chaos truly cut loose. Unlike smoke, there was no coughing or choking. Instead, it was eerie silence and creeping steps as I tried to keep as many walls close as I could. At the nearest hint of movement, I let loose another shot into the proverbial dark to no avail, the echo of the quarrel biting into wood accompanied by a sudden crash somewhere across the room. I fumbled with my crossbow, hoping that whatever was going on would be some degree of assistance, as a dark shape rushed through the mists.
This time, my reflexes weren't enough, the rise of my bow arrested by Yung Foi's powerful arm sweeping down. The crossbow flew out of my hands from the violent impact as the rest of his muscular form slammed into my chest, crushing me against the wall. With a wheezing cry of pain, I tried to bring up my knee between his legs but Yung completely overpowered me, his forearm jamming against the side of my face.
Through the mists, Chief Feathers could be heard, shouting, “Yung, we can hear you and we have your brother! Let Inspector Redmane go now!” I can only surmise he had made out both of our shouts and cries in the scuffle.
Yung growled low, as if deciding whether to snap my neck then or drag me further off in the building. I took advantage of that momentary indecision, along with the slight loosening of the pressure on my jaw, to twist my head enough to give Yung a solid bite. While I normally shy away from such animalistic tactics, I prize my continued life more than my dignity.
The mist was starting to clear through the open front doors and the light of the advancing fires shone through. I could make out the hazy forms of several figures, though I could not yet see who was who, as I shoved Yung back with a boot. While his bulk wasn't moved as far as I would have liked, it was enough to let me slip away from a slash of his razor.
“This is your fault, you and your snooping nose, woman!” Yung lashed out again in a broad arc, his arm dripping blood from two places now, forcing me to scramble back. My heel snagged in a fine Tianese rug and I fell back, my head rapping hard on the barely cushioned marble. With throbbing head and clouded vision, I could hear Yung's triumphant roar as he loomed over me, no doubt going for a killing blow.
He was interrupted by the resounding twang of a heavy crossbow firing, Cline's crossbow. The bolt split the air separating Yung and myself, forcing him to leap back. I could see now, through the barely-misty air, that Cline's left arm was horribly burned, yet he had the grit to stay standing, his crossbow balanced on the Chief's right shoulder, Verdigan knelt down like a tripod. As Cline struggled to reload the monstrous weapon one-armed and Feathers drew his own hand-bow, Eising, who now had manacles on his wrists, sideswiped the two of them. The entire melee let me get to my feet, seemingly resetting the entire fray.
I snatched my truncheon off my belt as Feathers struggled with Eising. Cline, already terribly wounded, tried to rise but failed, slipping into full-on shock, while Yung lunged forward, ignoring the pain of his wounds in his desire to kill me. All of this insanity was interrupted by a sudden flash of brilliant silver light in the center of the chamber. My ears popped from the sudden shift of air pressure, a sure sign of teleportation, and my ears cleared to the sight of a figure, hovering in terrible splendor, familiar yet unknown to me.
She looked much like the Silver Bard, all glimmering silver-steel, with the same large wings outstretched, but her form, while still beautiful in its artistry, was crafted more like a conventional golem, with fitted joints and plates similar to a suit of armor. The face was cold, impassive, with blazing eyes completely unmoving. The only flaw was a gouge scratched out of her breastplate. In her hands was a terrible compound bow with silver strings, an arrow already knocked and drawn.
“If you are not of the Foi, then run,” the golem proclaimed, in a voice as glorious as the Bard's, but thick with a terrible fury. There was barely a moment to react, as sudden and awesome as her appearance, before the angel let fly with her arrow, piercing straight through Eising's body along its width, killing him instantly.
As she swung about, nocking another arrow, I found myself doing what I never thought I would have to do, to the warm, pulsing approval of my Moral Compass. I flung myself in front of Yung, who had raised his arms up defensively, and threw my arms out. “Murderess! You are under arrest, golem! Lay down your arms!”
The golem's eyes blazed brighter as she pulled back the bow to full pull. “Move, Vela, now.” The voice touched me, its familiarity growing by the word, but I would not be swayed.
“No, you don't have the right to do this. Stand down now.” Our gazes locked and I felt those fiery eyes pierce my soul. Piercing stare or not, I would not back down. If I had kept her attention a few more moments, Verdigan would have had a chance to do something, as he had begun to move in behind the wrathful golem.
Unfortunately, Yung decided to write his own demise. I felt a violent shove and, as he threw me to the floor, I heard two clashing sounds. One was the air cutting as Yung hurled his blade, the other the exploding reverberation of the golem's bow string. The razor clattered ineffectually on the silver-steel skin as I caught my fall with my forearms, while Yung let out a cut-off gurgle as he was impaled on a silver-steel shaft.
I cried out, anger filling my heart. After my fellow Watchers died trying to take these men in, they were both dead, murdered without justice being properly done. As I got to my knees, grabbing up my crossbow, Verdigan rushed the golem, only to be thrown back by a beat of her powerful wings. Spinning back to face me, I had just enough time to load Milady's enchanted bolt and take aim.
There was no time for a final warning. The fury in the golem's eyes seemed to grow cold for that split-second as she saw me with crossbow pointed and then I let fly. She twisted away at the last moment, but even so, the bolt pierced the golem's left hip, the enchantment letting it punch through the silver-steel skin.
To my surprise, the golem didn't collapse into dormancy. Instead, there was a cry of pain, bitten down on almost immediately, and a flash of scarlet blood from the wound. I was stunned, even as my fingers worked automatically to load another bolt.
That bolt punched through empty air as the golem kept the presence of mind to swing her wings into another huge beat, sending her flying backwards out the broken open doors. As the flames raged out in the courtyard beyond, the silver angel broke into full flight and was already high into the sky before I could stagger to the doorway.
I didn't want to believe what had just happened and what it meant. Angry tears threatened to cut through the soot dusting my fur, but I kept them in, letting my only outlet for the moment being a slam of my fist into the timbers of the door frame. Cline was badly injured, Verdigan's arm was broken from the strength of those solid metal wings, and the fire was still raging.
The only good fortune that evening was the wisdom of the Fortuli. When the Ragnard had descended on the scene, the Queen had directed her soldiers to fly away, but not to flee. Instead, they had flown off to hurry along the most vital of reinforcements: the purifiers of Nym. Their arrival had brought the swift retreat of the Pit beast, though not its destruction.
As for the rest of the Watch that had entered, our dozen strong force has only five survivors, Cline, Verdigan, and myself included. Cline's arm is a lost cause and the Nymians are unsure if they can purge the corruption of the Ragnard's hungry flames. As for myself, I am hurt, but I will heal, at least physically.
My heart, though, is not so lucky. This has to end, but I am fearful now of what I will be forced to do to end it.
ACT IV – A Requiem for Revenge
From The City's Herald front page, 19 Octavian 736 PC:
Flames and chaos alike raced through the northern neighborhoods of the Second Ward in the waning hours of 18 Octavian, as a force of Watchers moved in to arrest the suspected leaders of the criminal Foi Brothers gang. Now infamous as incidents of slavery and murder have rocked the Ward, the Foi clan, led
by Yung Foi, clashed with the Watch before an unknown action started a massive fire. Though Chief Inspector Verdigan Feathers, the Second Ward commander, has so far avoided comment for fear of jeopardizing the ongoing investigation, the matter is even more clouded by sightings of Nymian clergy, Hive soldiers of the Fortuli clan, and the confirmed deaths of over two dozen people, including seven Watchers and the last two surviving members of the Foi clan.
Found inscribed on fine parchment just inside Inspector Vela Redmane's loft, 19 Octavian 736 PC:
The time is short, the day draws ever near,
Even now, with biting chains and darkened days,
Your warmth and courage is to me so dear.
The sun above shines down its golden rays
And my one sole wish is for you to hear
This song for you that I am singing.
The time is short, my voice choked to silence,
The flames go hungry and the heart grows cold,
The Lady's ritual bell signals the violence.
You, the flame of justice, it is you that hold
My one sole hope which is for you to hear
This song for you that I am singing.
The time is short, but on that anniversary day,
I know you will come and shine the light of truth,
To bring the love of Myrien, to wash away
The flames, to punish the criminal in sooth.
And on that day so close, I hope for you to hear
This song for you that I am singing.
The time is nigh, the chains turn into a noose.
No more can I say, no more can I sing to thee.
I hope to find the strength in love to cut loose,
