Song (The Manhunters Book 1)

by Jesse Teller

  Over a hundred armed soldiers walked him to the front gate. Kristla the Red marched beside him silently until she reached the front gate and it closed behind him. Her eyes landed on his, and she shook her head.

  “What happened tonight?” she said. “Why have you done this?”

  “I sought to prepare the king for danger. I sought to—”

  “I will not call you a liar, for my respect for you is too high, but I don’t think that was your reason. A reason, maybe. But you know the king better than he knows himself. You knew his response before you started the trek to this door. What did you do tonight, Rayph Ivoryfist? What did I miss?”

  Rayph said nothing. He simply nodded and walked away. When he reached the Rain Barrel, he spoke to his fetish. “Did it work?” Rayph asked.

  “Perfectly,” Smear answered.

  The Lady of Twilight

  Rayph paced his room on the top floor of the Rain Barrel, his mind abuzz. Julius Kriss, Slinter, Black Cowl, the filth of the city, and Phomax, how many of these elements did he have control over? How many of these pieces could he count on moving into position?

  Julius Kriss was impossible to predict. With his wife beside him and an army of criminals, he was dangerous beyond telling. Black Cowl bided his time, waiting to strike when Rayph was vulnerable. No way he would stay out of this fight. No way he would not try to join Kriss to help stamp out Rayph and his Manhunters before they gained prominence. The time was quickly approaching. The festival would bring them all out of their holes.

  Two weeks until the festival opened. Two weeks before the pieces were in place and the game began. The citizens would be watching. A strike against the king was imminent. Was he ready? Were his Manhunters prepared? Rayph knew these questions would bring him to the brink of insanity. He cursed and dropped into the seat by the window.

  There was a gathering of power, and the hair on the back of Rayph’s neck stiffened. He turned his gaze to the street below, and he shook his head. The streets were filling with soldiers. Was he caught? Did they know? Rayph thought they didn’t. He thought it impossible for any to know what had happened at the feast those few hours ago. He settled himself into his chair and waited. Let them come find him. Let them knock on his door. The soldiers parted, and the figure of a floating woman broke through the crowd. She hovered two feet from the street and held her arms out wide as if embracing the sky. Her dark purple robes billowed around her in a current of warm air, and Rayph rolled his eyes. He pushed himself back, knowing three ways in which she could enter his room. She would not knock on the door. She was too obnoxious for that. How would her feathers look if she was smart and used a portal? No, he kicked his legs up on the table and waited.

  From the street below, he watched her cast her spell. She threw her voice loud and strong for ultimate dramatic effect before she popped out of existence. Rayph held back his giggle as she appeared in his room with a slight tremble of the floor. Feathers suddenly burst in the air above her head, drifting down with flair. Her eyes swept the room as she searched for him. She found him, and he waved.

  “Welcome. Can I get you something?” he said. Her robe still rippled, and she extended her hands to levitate from the floor. Her fingers curled to talons as she gazed imperiously down at him. She was a beautiful woman, but Rayph could see the traces of magic that haunted her altered face. She summoned her aura, and he smiled.

  A subtle fragrance of salt betrayed her incantations. She had altered her aura as well. Swelling it in size to intensify the intimidation it inflicted. Her aura was nowhere near this big, nowhere near this impressive, and Rayph stifled a laugh as she presented herself. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes widened as if in fury. A bit of a tremble to her hands betrayed her fear.

  “Impressive as always, Lady of Twilight. Would you like some refreshment?” Rayph motioned to the carafe sitting beside him that Trysliana had left for him. “I have wine.”

  “I know why you’re here, Ivoryfist!” Her voice echoed in the room, and Rayph could not help the laugh that bubbled up within him.

  “No wine then?”

  “I will not partake in pleasantries with you, you criminal.”

  “Just me then.” He poured himself a glass and stared at her from over its lip.

  “I have looked into my globes. I have gazed into your soul, foul wizard, and I know your plots and schemes.”

  Rayph sat up. He brought to mind the first spell he would send at her. If she indeed knew his plan, then where were Medey’s Demons? Where was the queen’s pearl of Cin-ci-dal? Where were the items that would render him helpless? Dran was not here. She would have been pressed into action should they know.

  “How many people know?” he asked. Stall. He touched his fetish bringing his Manhunters within reach.

  “I alone know of your trickery,” she said. “I have come here this night to order you to stop this nonsense and go home.”

  Okay, so she doesn’t know.

  “You will leave this place immediately and crawl back to wherever you came from.”

  “Just so we are clear, what devious plan have I concocted?”

  She huffed as if he should know already, and Rayph smiled. “You plan on publicly humiliating the king. It will not happen while I stand his side. I fear you not, you beast,” she said.

  Rayph stood. Her face spasmed suddenly from theatrics to terror. She stepped back and looked out the window as if her panic alone could summon her men.

  “You fear me not?” Rayph said. “Should I play your game then?” Rayph summoned to him the magic Song was bathed in and his aura swelled. His robe shimmered with shadows, as if things beyond sight danced around him in a frenzy. The room groaned as the coursing of his power pressed the walls back and away from him. Her hair flew in a flurry, lashing in her eyes and across her face. The magic he summoned to his aura whined, and the horses outside kicked and bucked. Plaster dust sifted down from the ceiling to kick into dust devils and whirl around him.

  Rayph grinned at her. “Call me foul again, Twilight. Command me to leave.”

  She stumbled back and whimpered a spell. It cracked and shattered in the face of his fury, popping on the air like a ball of dust. She dropped to a knee and tears coursed from her eyes.

  “Cast, Twilight. Smite me.” His voice trembled, and there was a clamor of distant thunder. She dropped to the ground, and Rayph could not help but chuckle. “Summon your feathers,” he said. The pressure in the room moved the furniture. The window creaked in the sill.

  He lifted his voice, and the room rang with it. It echoed the streets beyond the pub. Sparks danced in the fields of his vision, as if he could see the words he spoke crackling on the air. “I don’t think I will allow you to chide me, wizardess. I don’t think I will take your inane threats and boasting to heart. Your trappings do not intimidate me, and you know nothing of my mind and motives. You are a poor comedy, at best. I will abide your company no more.”

  A ripple. Nothing more. A ripple of real power passed over Rayph, and he wondered whether he had not misjudged her. When he saw her on her hands and knees sobbing, he knew himself wrong. He extended his hand, and she lifted from the ground. He motioned for the window, and she floated there. Her shadow stuck the street beyond, framing the men that stared up at them both. Rayph needed them to see their wizardess, needed them know her a charlatan. He dropped her to the floor and pulled back his aura.

  The room creaked back to itself, the ceiling dropping more plaster dust, the walls groaning back to their positions. Rayph watched her regain herself, and he turned away. He stepped to the corner of the room, letting the adrenaline of real power play itself out. She rose from the floor and turned to look at him. All pretense was pulled away. All image of her greatness shattered at her feet. She turned to gaze upon the street below and the men staring up at her. She turned back to Rayph, her eyes pleading, and he felt ashamed of himself. He knew he had ruined her.

  A ripple. Nothing more.

  Rayph looked around
the room.

  “You are a thug, Rayph Ivoryfist. One day the world will see you for the spiteful person you are.” She sobbed. She attempted to gather what shreds of dignity she had left, and Rayph turned to her and shook his head.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  The air in the corner of the room ripped open violently, betraying a portal with flaming edges. Rayph could see a figure within, arms dancing about as a power gathered. Rayph broke into a run as a terrible bolt of pure magic slammed into the Lady of Twilight. The power of the blast shredded the meat of her chest, pulverizing her and unfolding her skin. She slammed into the window, shattering it as she flew wildly back. Rayph leapt before her a moment too late as the bolt passed right by his outstretched hands.

  The portal zipped shut an instant after Rayph saw Black Cowl smiling in the gloom beyond and waving a hand in goodbye. Rayph turned toward the window to watch horrified as she wheeled through the air, passing straight over the street and slamming into the building across the road. Rayph stood, rushing to the window to watch. The side of that building caved in as if hit with the hammer of the gods. She hung in the side of the crushed structure, her body torn and ragged, dripping blood and chunks of flesh. The men below stared at her, terrified.

  They turned their eyes, mouths gaped open, to gaze at Rayph Ivoryfist.

  He could do nothing but stare. He looked down upon them with shocked eyes, turning back to the horror embedded in the building beyond and the wrung out bloody rag that was once the court wizardess of Lorinth. Rayph turned back to where the portal had been as the men below screamed and ran for their lives.

  Rayph Ivoryfist

  A great blast ripped Konnon out of the slumber he had been enjoying, and he jumped to his feet. Getting dressed took him just moments, but Glyss still tapped on the window before Konnon walked out the door.

  “This way,” Glyss said. “There is a mob growing out here. I can get us around it.”

  “What happened?” Konnon said.

  “Not sure. An explosion of some sort. Let’s go.”

  The window and ledge. Konnon did not feel comfortable but he could climb a building as easily as walking a set of stairs. Glyss brought him to an alley, then up the side of a tall building to a peaked roof. They balanced across it, then jumped roofs to the center of a horde of people. They stood on an inn. The building across from it had been shattered. The entire front of the building was caved in with a woman stuck in the hole. She bled and seeped, and as Konnon watched, she sagged until she fell limp and shattered to the ground. The citizens cried out in terror and rushed away.

  The name “Ivoryfist” rattled through the air. Konnon looked at Glyss and shook his head. “This might be really bad.” Glyss looked at the structure they stood on and down the side of the building. “Two rooms down and in. The window is open. I bet that’s where she came flying out of.”

  “Go before it fills with people. Find out what you can,” Konnon said.

  Glyss nodded and leapt off the side of the building. He disappeared into the room. He was there for a minute or two before swinging back up and out and climbing the side of the building. While he was gone, the streets flooded with soldiers. Medey and his Demons came marching up the street.

  Glyss climbed up and looked at Konnon.

  “We have to move,” Konnon said.

  “I would say,” Glyss replied.

  The next day they stood in the marketplace as the meanest man they ever knew pounded a wooden sign in the wall of wanted.

  Medey turned to the crowd and cleared his throat. Konnon remembered the last time he had seen the man and the battle they had all fought. Medey had slaughtered droves of men. Fighting beside him, Konnon had known real fear for the first time in a long while. He thought of the spear the man ripped from the hand of the nobleman of the city, and he knew Medey was raging mad.

  “Good citizens of Song, I declare from this day, until he has been proved innocent, Rayph Ivoryfist is wanted dead or alive by the crown of Lorinth for the bloodthirsty murder of the court wizardess, The Lady of Twilight. Anyone who can bring him in will be given a small fortune in gold for his or her trouble. We caution any would-be hunters that Rayph is the most dangerous man in the nation. He wields powers terrible and otherworldly. He is aligned with the most devastating sort of people and knows the country and its people better than any man or woman in history. Rayph Ivoryfist is a nightmare to attempt to apprehend, and we wish it to be known that the average citizen is not encouraged to traipse off after this reward. Leave the hunting of nightmares to those of like ilk.”

  “Bounty has to be impossibly high,” Konnon said.

  “Lot of money.”

  “I now address Rayph Ivoryfist,” Medey barked. “I know you’re out there. I know you are watching. The duty of bringing you to justice has fallen to me. I will bend my will to it as if you were spawned from the darkest evil.”

  “I’ll check it out.” Konnon shouldered his way through the press of people, who drew both nearer to the likeness and away at the same time. Konnon reached the landing and climbed the stairs. A multitude of vile men gaped at the image of Rayph. Konnon looked at the sign and saw Rayph’s smiling face again.

  “Haven’t thought about you in a long time,” Konnon whispered.

  Rayph’s sword flashed and Konnon’s flew away, the boot of the trimerian kicking Konnon in the face before he passed out.

  Konnon could still hear the laugh of Ivoryfist, and he scowled. The gallows’ artist could make even the most kind men look like monsters. Rayph had a kind face. That did not mean he wasn’t a monster. All who had come up against Ivoryfist knew him to be one of the deadliest to ever walk the world.

  Konnon smelled the deep and heavy musk of a gorilla and he sighed. Barrigan was here. He turned to see the raksa standing two feet taller than Konnon and heavier by one hundred pounds. Konnon grunted in disgust and walked away.

  He joined Glyss at the edge of the marketplace and looked him in the eye. “5,000 gold for him alive, and 4,000 dead,” Konnon said.

  “I guess you’re a bounty hunter again,” Glyss said.

  “Looks that way.”

  Wanted Man

  Rayph and Smear stood in the crowd, their bodies and faces masked with disguise spells. Medey’s Demons stomped through the crowd, their horrible masked visages glaring at every citizen as they searched for Rayph. Medey rode into the marketplace to stop before a wooden wall plastered with signs. He carried a large sheaf of paper and a hammer. He turned his back to the crowd, and with deliberate strikes, nailed the paper to the wall. He turned and glared out over the crowd, his eyes sweeping as he crossed his arms.

  “Good citizens of Song, I declare from this day, until he has been proved innocent, Rayph Ivoryfist is wanted dead or alive by the crown of Lorinth for the bloodthirsty murder of the court wizardess, The Lady of Twilight. Anyone who can bring him in will be given a small fortune in gold for his or her trouble. We caution any would-be hunters that Rayph is the most dangerous man in the nation. He wields powers terrible and otherworldly. He is aligned with the most devastating sort of people and knows the country and its people better than any man or woman in history. Rayph Ivoryfist is a nightmare to attempt to apprehend, and we wish it to be known that the average citizen is not encouraged to traipse off after this reward. Leave the hunting of nightmares to those of like ilk.”

  Medey looked weary as he finished his prepared speech, and he shook his head as if he had walked into a tragedy. “I now address Rayph Ivoryfist. I know you’re out there. I know you are watching. The duty of bringing you to justice has fallen to me. I will bend my will to it as if you were spawned from the darkest evil.”

  Spawned? Had he just said spawned? As the word poured out upon the air, Rayph’s heart lifted. Medey had just summoned him to the Spawned Council. Rayph turned to Smear and smiled.

  “I have to go. Don’t ask where, I can’t tell you. All may not be lost. Meet me back at the Rain Barrel in two days. Keep yo
ur ear to the ground for any sign of Kriss or Black Cowl. Keep your fetish on you and stay in touch.”

  A gathering of men near the wooden wall studied his portrait, and Rayph sighed. These were the sort he was afraid of, bounty hunters and adventurers, seeking fame in the way of reputations. These men salivated at the thought of bringing in a prize such as him. They would stop at nothing to be the one to put a noose around his neck. And many of them had pearls. Cin-ci-dal pearls were common among bounty hunters. Pearls that sapped wizards of all their magical potential were placed in weapons and armor to make the fighting of wizards mundane. Rayph knew these sort of men would hound him night and day, and he cursed as the first of them screwed up their courage.

  An enormous man shoved his way through the approaching bounty hunters as he walked up on the wall of wanted. There was no way he could be human. From shoulder to shoulder, he stood almost five feet wide, his body proportioned in such a way as to make a monster out of him. Rayph stared in horror, imagining the bones that would break in this man’s grip. The monster of a man stared at the wall. Finally, he turned in Rayph’s direction, the snarling visage of a gorilla staring out from under heavy cowl.

  “Is that Barrigan?” Smear asked.

  “If that’s Barrigan, we have a problem.” Rayph thought about the devastating and efficient bounty hunting gang this raksa belonged to and he realized he did indeed have a problem.

  “I can’t think about him now,” Rayph said. “He’s for later.”

  “Well, I can look into it now.”

  “Please do.”

  “Rain Barrel might not be a good idea,” Smear said. “Trysliana will be there. We don’t know how she feels about all of this. If anyone can spot us in these disguises, it would be her.”

  “You need to find out her loyalties. Find out if she believes this farce or if she knows better. If she does think me guilty, then we will meet elsewhere. Until then, I will hide in plain sight. I am known to haunt the place. I will keep to it.”