The Vespus Blade

by Scott Baron

  “I do appreciate the bit of exercise, though,” Hozark continued. “It was nice getting to have a little jog and a swim.”

  Still nothing from his captive.

  “There’s no need to worry. Contrary to popular belief, Wampeh Ghalian are not all about killing and torture, you know.”

  “Really?” the man said, finally breaking his silence at the thin lifeline dangled in front of him.

  Hozark grinned wide, his fangs sliding into place. “No. But I thought it might make you feel a little better,” he said with a frightening laugh.

  He had absolutely no intention of draining the man. Nor did he intend to kill him, but the effect the sight of his fangs had on prisoners was the same regardless. But this one would live. And he might even prove to be a great source of Council information beyond this one issue at hand. But there was no need to tell him that.

  “Now. Let us discuss this contract you placed, shall we?”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “Well, that was a wild Bundabist chase,” Laskar grumbled as he and Bud joined up with Demelza in a small town square. “You have any better luck?”

  “No,” she replied. “Though I did hear some other interesting tidbits. But Tikoo appears to be a far harder man to find than we anticipated. How did you fare atop the volcano? Any news of worth?”

  “A few rumblings, a few rumors, but all in all, it was a waste of time,” Laskar said.

  “Not a total waste,” Bud said with a dreamy smile.

  Demelza looked at the man, perplexed. Laskar noticed her stare and let out an exasperated chuckle.

  “He got lucky.”

  “Repeatedly,” Bud added with a wicked grin.

  “Oh. Well, then, good for you.” She turned to Laskar. “I hope you had a nice time as well. It is not as if we are in the middle of a vital fact-finding mission or anything.”

  “Ha. I should be so lucky,” Laskar said, looking around the square off the beaten path that they’d chosen as their rendezvous point. “So, uh, where is he, anyway?”

  “Hozark? He is at the ship,” Demelza replied.

  “But that wasn’t the plan. And he didn’t skree us. Did he call you?”

  “No. But he left a note for me here.”

  “Where?”

  “You would not see it even if I pointed it out,” she replied. “Suffice to say, Hozark awaits us at the ship.” She adjusted the small pack of supplies she had acquired during her time among the locals. “Shall we?”

  Laskar and Uzabud fell in line behind her, and the trio made their way out of the city, heading back to their hidden ship. Their ship hidden in the shit.

  They took a circuitous route, doubling back several times, pausing to ensure they were not being followed. But no, they were alone, and soon enough the smell of their ship’s hiding place alerted them to their proximity long before they could see it.

  Or not see it, as was the case with the shimmer-cloaked craft.

  They approached carefully, Demelza reaching out to ensure no wards or traps had been tripped. All was in place, as expected. She cleared the path, and they made their way to the hidden ship, then stepped inside, having first ensured they were not tracking anything foul inside on the soles of their boots.

  “What the hell?” Bud blurted when they stepped into the small holding room adjacent the ship’s galley.

  The others hurried in and saw what the fuss was about.

  Hozark was sitting comfortably in a chair, sipping a cup of herbal tea, waiting for them. He also had Tikoo, their target, trussed up and unconscious, bound to the chair beside him.

  “Hang on. You got him?” Laskar blurted. “We rode all over that stupid mountain, up and down in mists on those stupid Malooki, freezing our stupid butts off, for nothing? You didn’t even call us on your stupid skree!”

  “You do seem quite fond of that word. Stupid,” Demelza noted with a grin. “It seems you and that word have a bond.”

  Bud chuckled. Of course, after the time he’d had atop the volcanic mountain, not much could sour his mood. In fact, he was quite glad they’d been sent on that futile mission and would gladly head back up again with the slightest urging.

  “I am sorry I did not contact you,” Hozark replied. “I was under the sea. And quite busy, as well.”

  “I noticed,” Demelza said, leaning in to observe the slumbering prisoner. “A sominus spell?”

  “Your instincts are correct,” he replied.

  “He seems intact.”

  “Yes. The man is a Council agent, but even they have their weaknesses. It only required a pathetically small amount of torture, and the threat of far more, before he was spilling everything he knew.”

  Hozark paused.

  “So? What does he know?” Laskar asked.

  “He was a decoy,” he finally said.

  “A what, now? A decoy?” Bud interjected. “Hang on. You’re saying he didn’t actually make the contract?”

  “Oh, he most certainly did. Our friend here was very forthcoming about that fact. However, in the course of our ‘discussion,’ it also came to light that he was in fact hired by another party to make that contract. However, in that instance, the person hiring him let a little detail slip.”

  “What kind of detail?” Bud asked.

  “The kind that was most careless on that individual’s part. A casual comment was made that allowed Tikoo to become privy to a most interesting wrinkle in the job. Namely, the person who hired him was also hired by a third party.”

  Bud’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. Are you saying they’re part of a daisy chain? For a freakin’ Ghalian contract? That’s insane. I...I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Nor have we,” Demelza said. “It is a firewall of deniability. Akin to a blind drop, protecting the identities of those farther up the chain. If this is true, the actual party behind the contract could be anyone.”

  “Potentially,” Hozark agreed. “We most certainly have our work cut out for us. For the moment, however, we need to deliver our friend Tikoo to one of the order’s facilities for safekeeping until the Five determine what to do with him.”

  “And in the meantime?” Laskar asked.

  “And in the meantime, the four of us figure out what is really going on here.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Kalama was the woman’s name. The one who hired Tikoo. The one who had poor information security and had let slip that she too had been hired to pass along the contract to him. A woman with high cheekbones and curly orange hair, courtesy not of genetics, but a lot of expensive modification spells.

  Tikoo had been a good Council agent. His operational skills were top-notch, and he had proven a very worthy adversary. Hozark would have caught up with him eventually, of course. He always did.

  But without the help of his associates, it would have taken longer to survey Obahn, which may have led to Tikoo fleeing from Kraam before his arrival. It would have resulted in something of a wild Bundabist chase, and at the moment, time was something they did not have in abundance.

  Those who were responsible for ambushing Master Prombatz and his young aspirant had things in motion, and whatever it was they were planning, there was an urgency to finding out what it was, and what could be done to stop them.

  Why someone would purposely target the most deadly assassins in the galaxy was anyone’s guess. But when they were found, guesswork would not be required. The Ghalian had many, many ways of making people talk.

  “You sure this is the place?” Bud asked, tugging at his high-collared coat as the four of them made their way through the largest shopping district of one of the wealthier cities on the wealthiest planet in the system.

  He did not like dressing up as if he were some high-class buffoon. He had been a pirate, after all, and the world of fashion had never made much sense to him. Clothing designed by people who obviously never actually wore any of their miserably uncomfortable creations themselves.

  Yet to infiltrate and fit in o
n this world, he, and the others, had no choice but to appear as any other casual shopper might. And that meant fashion.

  Hozark and Demelza looked amazing, of course. No matter if they were clothed in the finest garb in all the land, or draped with rough cloth and covered in muck, they were masters of infiltration and disguise, and this was simply one more job.

  Laskar, however, was different. He seemed quite at home in the fine threads. In fact, his attitude had even improved a bit, and his posture straightened slightly. For him, playing dress up was apparently a pleasure, though he might be wary to admit it to his rough-and-ready associate.

  “We stay together for this,” Hozark had said to the group when they dropped into atmosphere. “Numbers and proximity will allow us to block any escape attempt and keep from necessitating a pursuit.”

  “Good. My ass is still sore from all of that Malooki riding,” Bud said. “Running does not sound particularly appealing at the moment.”

  “You sure it’s not from that little green––” Laskar started to joke.

  “No. She wasn’t that sort of woman.”

  “Whatever you say, Bud,” he cracked back. “Whatever you say.”

  The approach to the city had been normal. No crazy maneuvers or subterfuge required. Just jumping into the system, dropping out of orbit, and landing in the immaculate, elevated docking facility. It was spotless, and even had multiple accessways leading directly to the stores and merchants.

  Visitors to this city would not have to wait any longer than necessary to start spending coin if they did not wish to. And spend they did.

  The opulence on display was staggering. And so too was the waste. So much spent on things, the generic of which cost a fraction of the price on other worlds. But there was social standing attached to these bits and baubles, and that commanded a premium.

  And somewhere amid all of this consumerism, their target awaited them.

  Kalama was a socialite. How and why she, of all people had been chosen to play a part in this twisted plot was unclear, but Hozark assured his friends the information he had acquired from Tikoo was most certainly accurate.

  “The woman probably ran up some sort of debt from her spending habits,” Laskar said. “I bet getting that contract to Tikoo was offered as a way to make good on it.”

  “You think?” Bud asked. “Seems kind of odd for a high-class society woman.”

  “Nah, it’s not at all uncommon for that sort of thing. I mean, think about it. It’s done with gamblers in over their heads all the time, so it makes sense that the same should apply to other kinds of overindulgence and indebtedness too.”

  “I have to admit, it kinda makes sense,” Bud said. “Hand off a simple message and be free of that looming obligation hanging over your head? Who wouldn’t step in and make a quick delivery for that sort of thing?”

  Hozark and Demelza merely nodded their agreement as they walked, smiling and laughing, blending in with the crowd while their trained eyes scanned every face and storefront for the woman in question.

  They had an address for her, and that was their destination, but the Ghalian knew full well their prey might walk right into their grasp. Literally, in some instances. But as they strolled, there was no sign of the woman on the streets.

  Porters were all around them, pushing the floating conveyances loaded with the purchases of the elite. Shopping Sherpas, of a sort, but rather than mountaineering adventurers, they served a far different kind of master.

  None appeared to be slaves, though, despite the Council of Twenty spreading the use of them until it was rather commonplace. In fact, all across the city, only a handful of the gleaming control collars were to be seen.

  It was a bit unusual, as the owning of staff was almost the norm. But the shops seemed to have actually employed workers for the task, allowing patrons to leave their own at home.

  It was a testament to just how much coin was flowing through their coffers, for owning an enslaved laborer was often cheaper than hiring one, in the long term.

  Slavery had long been an issue for the Ghalian, and they had taken more than a few jobs at discounted rates when the outcome might weaken the hold of the Council’s terrible practice. They never took sides in conflicts and wars, but they did have their own agenda at times, and they would quietly work to further it.

  “Hey, is that the place?” Bud asked, staring up at the gleaming tower with a small series of floating gardens surrounding it, held aloft by a very expensive bit of magic.

  “Yes. Her residence is within that building. Thirteen levels up, adjacent to that garden,” Hozark noted, pointing to one of the floating outdoor spaces.

  “Damn. The coin this place must have cost. Now I can see how you could get in debt really easily,” Bud marveled. “It’s like an addiction for these people.”

  “Of a sort,” Demelza agreed. “In any case, it is something that can be leveraged against those who fall on hard times, as we suspect Kalama likely had. But you never can tell.”

  “True. And for that reason, we must remain vigilant,” Hozark added as they stepped into the building’s lobby area.

  It was quite over the top. Gaudy, one might even say. But whatever one’s opinion on the display of wealth, none could argue it was not impressive.

  Enormous sculptures acted as supporting columns for the mezzanine level, and magically powered lift discs would silently whisk passengers to the upmost reaches of the edifice. A fountain quietly burbled, the sleek stone behind the flowing water immaculate, kept free of moss or algae by a series of expertly placed spells.

  And that was just a taste of the layers upon layers of magical opulence surrounding them. One could spend hours looking at the marvels around them, time permitting.

  But they were not here on a sightseeing visit, and they didn’t have the time for it even if they wanted to. And they were certainly not residents, though the group’s attire allowed them to blend in as though they were. Even their konuses and blades selected for this mission were fine and ornate, pulled from the little stash Hozark kept handy for just such types of infiltration.

  “This way,” Hozark said, heading toward the lift discs. “We need to go up.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The ride up was as smooth as it was fast. The lifts traveled at a normal speed and were designed for average people, not power users, it seemed. Vislas, and even emmiks, could pull from their own internal magic stores to counteract the negative effects of a much faster ascent. One that might cause others to black out from the speed and forces that accompanied it.

  Thirteen floors passed in a flash, and moments later they stepped out onto their target’s level. Only a third of the way up the building. She had money, no doubt, but was not wealthy by the upper floor residents’ standards.

  There were only a few residences per floor, however, and with that type of footage, even those of just average means were still living in a degree of luxury not afforded to many. It seemed Kalama had done well for herself. At one time, anyway.

  “This is it,” Bud said, pointing out her door.

  Hozark saw it as well––before Bud had––but he had paused a moment. Something felt off.

  “You sense it too?” Demelza asked.

  “I do.”

  “What are you guys waiting for? Let’s do this,” Bud said impatiently, moving toward the door.

  “No, not yet, Bud,” Hozark said.

  The pirate froze. When Hozark got a vibe, it was almost always to your benefit to listen to it. The assassin studied the door a long moment, Demelza doing the same.

  “Ah, that’s it. There it is. Do you see?” he asked.

  “Yes. Clever, I must admit,” she replied. “Nicely done, for a layman.”

  “See what?” Laskar asked. “I don’t see anything; it’s just a door.”

  “Just a door, yes. But also not the door we want.”

  Bud cocked his head as he studied the door. “It’s numbered. This is her door.”

&nb
sp; “One of her doors,” Hozark replied, pointing to the dust around the doorjamb. “This is not an entrance. It is a secondary doorway to the unit. But it is not meant to be opened. Not from the outside, that is.”

  “Why in the world would you do that? Build a second doorway?” Bud asked.

  “It would normally have been a second unit, I would wager. Two must have been combined at some point, and this door became an emergency egress for the resident,” Hozark explained. “And as it is not meant to be used as an entrance, it has alarm spells and wards placed upon it.”

  “Huh,” his friend said. “I would never have guessed.”

  “Most would not. And they would set off the alarms, summoning the building’s security detail.”

  “What kind of security we talking?”

  “Nothing impressive by our standards. Just run-of-the mill hired muscle. But then, we are used to dealing with a different type of adversary, are we not?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Bud replied with a chuckle.

  Over the years, they’d had a great many run-ins with all manner of people wanting to do them some harm. In some cases, far worse. Compared to them, a couple of rich people’s security goons weren’t any real concern.

  But they didn’t want to raise a fuss, even a minor one. No alarms, no conflict, just in and out. Stealthy. That was the order of the day.

  “So, what do we do?” Laskar asked. “Do you disarm the wards or something?”

  “No, Laskar. We shall follow the course of least resistance,” Hozark replied. “We go in through the front door.”

  The four of them stepped away from the false entrance and followed Hozark down the corridor. If Kalama’s home was actually the combination of two units, her actual entry could be in either direction. But which one?

  It was a coin toss, but with only two doors as possibilities, at least it wouldn’t take long to find their mark.

  “Excuse me,” Demelza said, a warm smile on her face as the door opened. “I have a package delivery for a Denna Kalama.”