He was surprised she had caught on so quickly. It had taken Takara several months after learning of his knowledge and subsequent enjoyment of a large variety of vintages and types of wine for her to connect how he came by the vast amount of information he had. Wondering and perhaps hoping that now Payton had determined the truth behind it she would let it lie, Jarrett continued to drink in silence.
Payton, however, was not so easily sated. She was staring at the bottle he had handed her, pausing after she had taken her sip. “Why do you do it?”
“Do what?”
She waved her hand around and it took him a moment to recognize that she was gesturing at the empty bottles spread about the room. “The wine. I mean, I wouldn’t want anything to remind me of a time that I spent as a slave. But you’ve surrounded yourself with it.”
It was a valid enough question. One he had never been asked before. Reaching out he plucked the half-drunk bottle from the hearth where he had placed it during his training and began to drink the warmed wine. It gave it an earthy quality that reminded him of winter celebrations when mulled wine was all the rage. Despite being great connoisseurs of all manner of alcohols, Malvathar had never quite acclimated to that tradition and he had enjoyed coming across it when he had taken refuge in Imeryn.
“I was a teen when I was promoted to the house. I was forced to serve wine to the guests of my former master. Haughty, rich Malvatharian nobles who stuffed their faces and drank their nights away, laughing at their good fortune and using the staff for their perverse sort of entertainment.” He scowled darkly, glaring at the fire. “When I ran, I never thought of what it meant to be free. One night someone offered me wine I was uncertain what they expected me to do with it. I had never been allowed even a drop before. If I had dared, I would have suffered far worse than a beating. But then, in that moment, I realized there was no one there to stop me. So I drank. And I have continued ever since.”
He could feel her watching him and he was not certain he liked it. He did not want her judgments. He did not want her pity.
“They remind you that you are free.”
He looked at her, astonished.
“Each one is a victory, a triumph, isn’t it? In a small way. Each bottle is one more affirmation that you are no longer in their clutches and no longer bound by their horrible ways.”
Slowly he nodded. Never had he expected her to understand. He had never expected anyone to. His habit of buying and consuming wine was ridiculous. A stupid act of pride that mixed with true enjoyment of the flavors he had explored with each new bottle. Granted it was not as if he could purchase the labels he had been forced to serve. Those would cost several gold at the least. Nonetheless, he still felt that same rush of freedom and pleasure with each bottle.
“I like that.”
He wasn’t aware that her approval would mean anything to him until she had given it and it caused something to warm in him. The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly, the gloom and morose memories that weighed and scratched in the back of his mind not seeming quite so prevalent anymore.
The two of them sat in silence for several minutes, each nursing their own bottle and lost to their own thoughts. It was Jarrett, however, who broke this quiet. He turned to look at her, his brow furrowing.
“Why do you spend time with him?”
She blinked. “Who?”
“The Malvathar,” he ground out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Payton shifted uncomfortably next to him. “He isn’t a slaver, Jarrett. You must know that.”
“He was,” he spat. “Or are you as fooled as all the women in this city into thinking that he is a gallant hero? A romantic sob story because he was taken from his family at a young age to train? Don’t believe it. He was placed in the highest of society in Malvathar and he has never left it.”
“I’m fairly certain we’re in Estaria right now.” It was clear she was trying to lighten the mood but Jarrett would not be deterred.
“From the moment he arrived, he has plagued this city. Flitting about the wealthy and gaining status because he is a healer. He charges exorbitant fees for ridiculous things. He is a known womanizer, sleeping with whomever he wishes but never pursues anything meaningful.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have no intention of getting in a relationship with him then.”
“It merely shows the man’s core character. He uses and discards people like any other Malvathar. There is no good in those people.”
Her face, surprisingly, went fairly blank, as if all expression had bled completely out of her. “Surely not every person is like that.”
“You’re excusing slavers now? Sadists who kidnap innocents and force them into a living hell?”
“Never. But nor can I state that I condemn every Malvatharian under the same category.”
“How could you not?”
Payton was quiet, her gaze downturned. It took her a moment to speak again and when she did, it was not the answer he had expected. “Because if I did, what else in the world could be sorted into categories and generalizations? Could I be condemned because the Templars are Vaelornian? Could Sam be condemned because the mages of old caused the cataclysm? At what point do we stop judging people as what they are but rather who and their actions?”
“And if their actions are to prolong slavery? Or do nothing?”
“Then we are all guilty.”
Jarrett stared at her. He had no idea what to make of that response.
“Vaelorn, Estaria, both countries are guilty of standing by and doing nothing while the slaves of Malvathar suffer. They make laws, attempt to protect their people but the traffic continues. Does this not make them guilty in the same light you paint Malvatharians who stand by and do nothing?”
Jarrett had no answer. He could feel his heart rate increase, his breaths become shorter. He did not know how to process her words. Malvathar was evil. It was the one truth he clung to, he had known since childhood. That all slaves knew. Malvathar was evil and freedom was found in Vaelorn or Estaria. No native person in power in Malvathar had ever shown kindness or sympathy without a catch or scheme planned. No native person in power in Malvathar would ever show such weakness as a truth. They were cruel, vicious people.
“I did not mean to upset you.”
Her voice drew him out of his thoughts. He recoiled when he found her hand inches away from touching his. It took all his self-control not to scramble away and out of reach.
“I just wanted to point out that such linear and boxed in thinking isn’t always the best approach for life because there is always a way to break it apart,” she said quietly. “Slavers are the lowest forms of life next to child abusers and Templars. I think pond scum is higher on the scale of morality.”
This made a breath of air escape him that could nearly pass for a laugh, the tightness in his chest beginning to fade.
“I understand your fears surrounding Atherly but I don’t think they are founded. Yes, he is a Malvathar by heritage but he has left that life behind and lives one here without even as much as a servant. Granted he is still wealthy but honestly, can you blame him for being a smart businessman?”
Jarrett swallowed once, twice. The lump in his throat never quite left but he managed to find his voice. “There is quite a lot that can be laid at any Malvathar’s feet.” At the way, her face fell he found himself adding an addition he would have never thought possible: “But I suppose in that particular sense, I cannot fault him for overcharging the wealthy for their ridiculous bouts of boils and fainting spells.”
Payton snorted. “Excellent. Now we just have to make sure to always have him pay the bill at the Pegasus and we’re set.”
Despite himself, he found the traces of a smile begin to form once more. What was it about her that helped lighten the heaviness that always weighed on him? That made him want to agree to things he never would have considered before?
“A sound plan. But do not think this means I wil
l tolerate him any more than I have.”
She grinned at him. “Perish the thought.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You want to run that by me again?”
“You have a job. A personal request for you actually. There has been something attacking people in the sewers and they wish for you to take care of it,” Brisen said curtly.
“Eating. You said eating people.”
She gave Payton a thin smile. “Details aside, I’ve assembled a team for you to go take care of this problem.”
Payton did not move. This was insane. Going down in the sewers was bad enough but after a monster who was eating people?! Since when was this a job for mercenaries? Set the guard on it. Set the army. Set… anyone but her! She didn’t want to go hunting for some creature that was mysteriously eating people!
“Did I mention if you succeed you’ll be paid double for your trouble?”
Double. Payton felt her shoulders fall, the stubbornness failing. Brisen knew they needed money, immediately and desperately. They had not told her why but… Damn it. “This better be a good bonus,” she muttered turning on her heel and leaving the woman’s office.
Trudging down the stairs, she saw who was waiting for her and simultaneously was elated and frustrated. Samuel was leaning against the wall with his arms cross, his eyes wide as he watched Zoe bounce up and down and ramble on and on. But then there was Hitchens. He was standing there sour as ever with his arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently and glaring at anyone who dared look his way. Wonderful.
“Team scary monster is a go.”
“Way to inspire confidence there, Payton,” her youngest brother teased.
“I didn’t even get to the part where the thing in the sewer has eaten at least four people and six more are missing,” she pointed out.
Zoe was looking decidedly less chipper now.
After stocking up on aloeroot potions, several flashbangs, and one or two smoke bombs just to be safe, the four of them headed out. Thankfully Zoe appeared to have snapped back into her perky self not long into the trip and was chattering away, alleviating the building tension during the journey. At the very least, her bubbly personality was a nice distraction from what was to come.
Arriving at the location was very anticlimactic. It was just a set of stairs leading down to the sewer grates. It stank. Creators did it stink. Moisture, mud, and excrement. Disgusting combination. Lacking any further direction besides “sewer in the south end of the Rein Street craft district” she proceeded to lead down the stairs.
“Should the fact that the gate is ajar, be worrisome?” she asked nobody in particular.
“Think monsters know how to pick locks?” Samuel asked sarcastically, motioning at the open padlock on the iron bars.
“Now there’s a scary thought.”
Entering the sewers, which were more like a tunnel system that led down, into, and out of the city, everything became a lot more… complicated. It was nearly pitch black in there for one thing. Their boots were soaked to the ankle as they sludged through the muck and the smell was so much more concentrated.
They made it about half a mile in before Samuel cursed. “I’m an idiot.” He brought out his staff and did a weird movement. A ball of yellow light appeared in front of him and rose above their heads.
“When did you learn to do that?”
“Atherly taught me. He’s a master of illusionary spells.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Payton snickered.
“Don’t complain. It means we have light now.”
“Would’a been nice back there,” grumped Hitchens, glaring at him. She couldn’t blame him. He had miss-stepped and somehow fell thigh deep into a refuse pile that was backed up in the tunnel.
After their third or fourth twist and turn in the tunnels, Payton began to notice scratch marks on the walls, the iron smell of blood added to the rest of the stench around them, and… Creators, carcasses. Bones, some fleshy but mostly picked clean. Some they could make out, others they couldn’t. Rats, cats, dogs… they were half buried in the sludge along the path.
“Ew,” Zoe said as they passed a particularly large and rotting body of a dog. “Did all these animals wander into the sewers, do you think? Or did the… thing somehow come out to get them?”
“I’m not sure I want to know that answer,” Samuel said quietly as they turned another bend.
A startled cry came from Zoe and a person across from them causing them to halt. They had just run into – literally in Zoe’s case – someone else. Payton helped Zoe right herself, detangling her weapons from the woman across from her, and then started to ask what she was doing down there when she realized the woman was not alone.
“Jarrett? Darcy?” she said in disbelief.
Guards. They had run into the city guard. Four of them. Jarrett, Darcy, and two she had never seen before.
“Payton? Sam?” Darcy’s eyes went to the rest of them before landing back on her. “What in heavens name are you doing down here?”
She glanced at their torches and drawn weapons and then at the scratch marks on the wall before settling her gaze back on him. “Somehow I feel it might be the same thing you are. Unknown creature eating people?”
“Can we stop saying that?” Zoe complained.
“This is guard business,” one of the people she did not know said.
“Apparently whoever lives near this sewer didn’t think so,” Payton said with a shrug. “They decided to make it Wyvern business and therefore mine.”
“The sewers are off limits to anyone who isn’t a guard,” Jarrett said with an arched brow.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.
He let out a breath of air as he shook his head, clearly trying to hide his smile.
“Look, if we’re both after the same thing, why don’t we hunt it together? I mean, we both want it dead,” Samuel suggested.
“You only want to get paid,” accused the female guard.
“Well I don’t think you’re down here for your health, shiny britches,” Hitchens snapped. “You’re here for pay too.”
“We’re trying to protect the city!”
“And we’re doing the same just for more money,” he grumbled.
The female guard’s mouth opened and closed several times in disbelief.
Payton paid her no heed. “So, partners?”
“The Captain will have our heads but more blades would be comforting,” Darcy moaned before nodding.
“Takara will be happy you’ve dealt with a mean beastie in a timely manner,” Payton said happily. “Think of it this way, at least we’re not asking you to help us feed someone to the monster right? Or take it home as a pet. Really there is a whole list of nefarious things we could have asked for instead of help killing it.”
Darcy stared at her wide-eyed. “Creators, your mind is a scary place.”
“Entertaining,” she corrected, earning her a snort from Jarrett and her brother.
Despite the two unnamed guard’s objections, the two teams joined forces. It took them another ten minutes to stop bickering about which way to go – the solution coming about by Payton just giving up and walking away. Jarrett and Samuel were close to follow and the others did simply because they did not want to be left behind.
Tracking the beast by the dead was a morbid way to go about it but it was their best and only lead. The closer they got the more dead there were. And she was certain she just passed a few pieces of the “missing” among the carnage as they went.
Suddenly she stopped. She held up her hand to stall the others. There was something moving in the shadows up ahead. She had heard a rattle in the dark. A scrape of claw against the stone.
“Graaaahhhhhh!” a deep throaty roar was the only warning she got.
Hundreds of tiny creatures were charging forward, crawling on the floor, the walls, skittering across the space, their tiny voices joining the giant’s cry of the large monster who
had just stepped into the light.
“Oh, fu—”
The sound of the torches being dropped and weapons being drawn echoed around them as the reptilian creatures began leaping at the group.
Payton sliced the first two in half only to have one land on her throat, trying to gnaw through her neck guard. Grabbing it she wrestled it off of her, feeling more leaping on her as she did. The thing was no more than a foot in length with muddied scales that allowed it to blend perfectly into the darkened sewer. The claws on its feet were sharp and dug into her armor, scratching it and leaving grooves in its wake. But the worst part of this beast was its maw. As it was screaming at her, it looked as though it could open far wider than any jaw could naturally allow and three rows of razor-sharp teeth waited for her.
She knew in an instant what this was. Ahamay. Deadly when they set up a nest because they could grow to hundreds within a month. They were carnivores. Before the cataclysm, they were a scourge and could be known to take out entire villages. Since the ice age, they had grown scarce but the beast had clearly managed to slip into the city and set up a home.
Flinging the thing off her, it hit the wall with a sickening crunch. She tore off more, cutting and hacking as she went. They were never-ending. They came in waves, launching themselves through the air in attach, biting and clawing on anything they could get their mouth and feet on. Red blood mixed with green, wounds stinging.
She cut one of them straight through when something hit her from behind and she went crashing to the ground. She cried out in pain as something much bigger ripped four long stripes into her back. Wrenching her dagger backward, she buried it to the hilt into the ahamay that had attacked her. It roared in pain and reared off her, allowing her a moment to twist around and scoot free.
Pushing to her feet, she realized that the parent ahamay had attacked her and was coming in for a second run, her blade still embedded in its leg. She quickly dodged out of its reach, taking another swipe at it with her remaining blade. She had to think fast, if this one got its mouth on her it would be game over. It could rip her arm off easily. Her eyes darted around the small space. It did not give her much to work with and the hide of the beast was thick meaning her weapons did not do much damage as she hacked at it. Her gaze zeroed in on her dagger.
Shattered Page 19
