Scion of Dragonclaw (Nysta Book 8)

by Lucas Thorn

  He was on his knees. Tears streaming as he remembered the farmer.

  Poor bastard.

  Cut down by raiders like that.

  What terror he must have felt.

  Aimed gaze toward salty waves. Saw the red blood of dawn across the longboat’s sails.

  “Nothing I could do,” he whispered. “Nothing.”

  He’d learned a lot that night.

  The value of a good lie, for one.

  And second, when to run.

  Now, looking down the narrow passageway lit by magelights, he saw the vicious glint in the elf’s eyes and knew it was time to run. Didn’t need to think about it for a second more.

  He grabbed Polsen by the shoulder. Wrenched the young boy around and sent him cartwheeling toward the elf. “Get ‘er,” he snarled. Then to the others. “Don’t stand there like a bunch of fucking cowards, you lot. Get ‘er!”

  Polsen whipped up his sword.

  Didn’t know how to hold it.

  Why didn’t he know how to hold it? He was holding it like he was ten years old and the fucking thing was a stick. Kid had been a courier for years. Surely he’d seen the guards training. Hadn’t Fulfar given the kid an hour of instruction?

  Kid must have rocks between his ears.

  No wonder the elf blew through the little shit. Ripped a hole in him so big it dropped his guts to the ground.

  Sagg didn’t bother to see how the others fared.

  Knew their skills weren’t much, either. He’d told Bran. Told him they needed more experienced fighters. Needed muscle. Not this…

  But they were cheap. Could get ten of them for the cost of one half-decent vet. And Sagg hadn’t ever really felt comfortable around vets. They seemed to look at him like they knew his story was shit.

  Hairs on the back of his neck were rigid and cold as he ran.

  Face pale.

  Sweat streaming down his cheeks.

  At least, he told himself it was sweat. And if he got out of here alive, it was the elf’s blood on his face. Earned when he’d cut her open with a well-timed slash to the throat.

  “Bastard,” he chanted. “Bastard fucking bastard. Fuck!”

  The elf was on his tail. He could feel her there.

  Sound of her boots. She was coming fast.

  But if he could make it to the end of the passage, he might-

  His left leg just stopped moving, launching hum forward. Landed on his face. Cheek first.

  Slid like greased meat.

  Slammed into a wall, elbow crunched.

  Yelped like a dog. Not just any dog.

  That dog.

  Tried to get up, but his left leg screamed in agony.

  Over and over.

  No, it wasn’t his leg screaming.

  Him.

  Pain left ragged throat on a wail which flew through the Halls. Spectral wings carrying it farther than he could’ve expected.

  Looked down.

  And his heart lurched up his throat to beat a frightened beat against his eyes.

  A handle. Sticking out his thigh. Pants, soaked with blood. His blood! Pulsing from the wound and dribbling off his knee to puddle around him.

  Image flashed in his mind of an old man surrounded by a pool of crimson. He moaned.

  Then she was there.

  Grabbed his collar and lifted.

  The power in her arms as she hefted his weight and shoved him hard against the wall. Back of his head bounced against stone.

  Glitter light in his eyes.

  Fear wolfed down his energy and spat its bones in his face.

  “Who are you?” He had to ask. Voice gripped by terror.

  Her violet eyes gleamed. Red points of light danced in her pupils. Red like blood.

  “I’m the one about to ask you questions, feller.”

  “What? What do you want to know?”

  Shame struck his guts with ethereal blade as he heard the quiver in his voice.

  What lie would appease this demonic elf?

  He searched his skull for it. Turned every crystallised half-truth in search of one.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. Struggled to understand what she meant. Couldn’t hide the regret in his voice. “I didn’t want to be. I wanted to run an inn someday-”

  The punch to his belly threw wind from his lungs.

  Choking for air, he blinked into her snarl.

  Felt the knife’s evil tip against his chin as she used the knife to life his head.

  Glared into his gaze. “Ain’t interested in all that shit. Just want to know why you’re here. In the Halls. Weren’t supposed to be any guards at all. Reckon you can answer that?”

  Shook his head.

  Scared. Truly scared.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  The elf didn’t move.

  Didn’t seem to breathe.

  Hate bubbled in her eyes, though, so he held his breath with her. Wanted so much to cry. When had he cried last?

  Shit.

  Two nights ago.

  He’d had that dream again.

  The dream with the faceless girl. Skinny fragile thing. Weeping in a dark place. Blood wet down her back.

  “Yeah,” the elf said at last. Sighed. “Figures this’d be a mammoth task.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Klista cut down the last guard. Flames reflected in her eyes as she whipped the sword to sever his arm. Then back into his ribs. Had to work it free of his torso. A job made a little difficult with him writhing in his own gore.

  She didn’t want to yank it out with him moving so much. Didn’t want to break the slender blade.

  So she kicked him a few times until he stopped.

  Then tugged it free.

  Wiped it on a clean patch of his jerkin.

  Looked over her shoulder to where the elf pressed Sagg to the wall.

  “We’re trying to start a new guild,” Sagg was saying. “We needed to get a contract, right? Well, what better than a ducal one? Bran, he’s got a few contacts. His cousin’s in the ministry. His pa’s a wine merchant. Supplies the kitchens. Has done for twenty years. It’s good wine. The Duke likes it. We figured if we got a contract to patrol the Halls, we could offer it out to the Bodyguards. They want into the Keep. They want a piece of this action. They’d pay big money to get even a taste of a contract here.”

  The elf watched his leg bleed.

  Said nothing.

  He continued; “Three of us used to be proper guards. But we didn’t like it, did we? It’s too fucking dangerous and won’t get you rich. Just get you dead. We had to step up. Hideg was always trusted with the Halls, but he wanted out. His men wanted too much money. The Duke refused. So, he emptied the place. Duke Boreguard weren’t happy with that so we got the job. Just temporary until the thing with Hideg gets sorted. But we figured if we did it well enough, we’d get it permanently. And that’s our foot in the door.”

  “Well enough?” Klista almost choked on her laughter. She nudged a body. “With shit like this? Look at his hands. He doesn’t even have a callous.”

  “That’s Roddy,” Sagg said. Glum. “One of the best runners we had. Couriers. That’s what these kids are, long-ear. Fucking couriers. That’s who you’ve been killing. You proud of that?”

  The elf shrugged. “I won’t lose any sleep over it.”

  “Your kind never does. You ain’t nothing special. Think you are, but you’re another average piece of shit from the gutte-”

  He didn’t see the fist which hit his mouth. But he felt it.

  Thought about spitting blood at her.

  Changed his mind at the last second.

  She watched the hatred in his eyes leak out in transparent waves of fear.

  Spat to his left instead. “Bitch.”

  “Say that again, and you’ll be swallowing teeth.”

  “Whatever.” Slumped a little. “You’re gonna kill me anyway.”

  “You look the kind of man who
saw a few fellers die before.”

  “I’ve seen my share.”

  “Then you know there’s good ways and bad.”

  “I ain’t stupid.” Snarl.

  “Prove it. You were doing well for a while, feller. Spilling the right kind of guts. Keep going before we spill the unpleasant kind.”

  “I don’t know what you want to know.” He shrugged painfully. “We’ve been overseeing the couriers for the past year. Bran thought there’d be opportunity in it. Got us promoted. Sort of. More a sideways promotion than an upward one. Supposed to be an easy job. Just look over the mail and watch for anyone trying to pocket shit which ain’t theirs. Maybe tag along with one of the little guys when something important needed delivering. Get our faces seen. Build a rep. Bullshit. All of it. Boring as fuck. Anj figured we could get some dirt opening a couple of letters. You know. Maybe build a few files. Use ‘em. Blackmail, I guess you’d call it. But it was a waste of time. Anything interesting is wrapped up in enchanted seals. And our enchanter refused to unwrap them.”

  “You didn’t count on enchanted seals? Shit. Everyone knows about those,” Klista snorted.

  “Go fuck yourself, kid.” Heat surged, then shivered away beneath the elf’s icy stare. He hurried to continue. “Look, these kids ain’t paid much. And they all had dreams of working for the Duke. Figured, like us, they could make something of themselves. They’re mostly loyal, right? A couple of them started moonlighting as guards for us. You know. Look out for some shopkeep’s fucking windows at night. All we had to do was offer the kids a little more than they were getting, and these boys were happy to put on a uniform. Walk around with a torch and look tough. They thought it was a fucking gift from the Dark Lord. Worked hard for it. Did double shifts. We made a bit of coin, and didn’t even have to do any work. Didn’t have to freeze our own balls off. That’s how we got the idea to move into the guard business. This score was gonna be bigger. We were gonna get fucking titles out of it.”

  The elf frowned. Sure she was missing something. “So, Hideg don’t know you’re down here?”

  “Yeah, sure he does. He had to give us maps. Weren’t good maps, though.” His head began to roll on his neck. Blood loss. “But Bran said we didn’t really need ‘em. We got a few of his fellers. Couple who’d been down here long enough to not really need them. Figured they could teach the new kids all they needed to know.”

  “That’s it? He just gave you some maps and let you loose?”

  “What else was he gonna do? The Duke told him to let us in.” Pause. “I don’t think Hideg liked that. Sent that dumb ork to tell us where we could and couldn’t go.”

  “Where? Where couldn’t you go?”

  Sagg shrugged. “Couple of the tunnels leading to the city. They went to the old temples. Ziggurats, the locals call them. Creepy places. Anj got them locked up and that was that. Didn’t want to go down them anyway.”

  “Anywhere else?”

  “Nope.” Eyes slid away.

  She grabbed his chin and jerked his head toward her. Ignored his squirm. “You’re lying.”

  “No. No, I’m not.”

  “There’s something.”

  “No.”

  She pressed A Flaw in the Glass against his eyelid. “I don’t have to push hard to pop it out, feller. Won’t kill you. But it’ll hurt like a bastard.”

  “Please…”

  “What else?”

  “It’s nothing!”

  “Then, tell me.”

  “I’m not a traitor.”

  “Tell you what you’ll be if you don’t tell me, feller. Screaming. A lot.”

  “The sewers! We had a special job. Duke Boreguard asked Bran for a favour. Just moving some of his stores. Tucking them away. That’s all. Shit, it’s nothing, okay?”

  “Stores?” She looked at Klista.

  “Ugh,” the Shiv said. “Who’d put anything in a sewer?”

  The elf nodded. Turned back to Sagg. “What kind of shit are we talking about?”

  “We’re not allowed to know.”

  “But you looked anyway.”

  “No!”

  “Yeah, you did. You looked. And don’t tell me it was enchanted.”

  “Barrels.” Miserable. “Just fucking barrels. Lots of them.”

  “What was in them?”

  “He said we’ll make some profit out of it. Like, an investment. He does it all the time. Tucks enough away, it causes a shortage, right? And then resells it for a profit later. He told us all about it so we could get a piece of the action. Make a few investments ourselves. It was easy coin, right? Bran took care of it.”

  “What’s in them?”

  “Huh?” Blink. Shook head. Screwed up forehead before answering; “Oil.”

  “Oil?”

  “Yeah. We took some for the lamps, but it was useless. Burns too quick. Must be cheap shit.”

  The elf stared at him.

  Then turned toward Klista, whose eyes were slowly widening in shock.

  “Shit,” Nysta said. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I’m thinking we should get the fuck out of here.”

  “Yeah.” The elf rubbed her itching eyes. Said; “Time to leave.”

  “Best be quick,” the young Shiv said. Picked her way through corpses to stand at the elf’s shoulder. “More coming up the stairs back there.”

  Nysta nodded. She’d heard them, too.

  “You’ve got good ears.”

  “Better than average, I guess,” Klista said. Forced a casual tone, but the elf could hear pride.

  “What about me?” Hoarse, Sagg barely breathed. “I told you everything you wanted. You don’t have to kill me. Maybe I can be useful, right? I can tell them something. Lead them away from you? I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Don’t have to kill you,” the elf agreed. “But you did say I was pretty average for my kind.”

  “I-”

  A Flaw in the Glass buried itself in his belly. Curving upward.

  To get the blade to rip, she had to twist. Twist hard. Turn the blade toward the moon high above.

  She could feel the meat inside his body writhe against the horror.

  The look on his face burned with agony. Agony he’d definitely try but would never be able to accurately describe in the Shadowed Halls.

  As the elf tore him open with a slow tearing of flesh.

  Let him fall. Rolling onto his side.

  Unable to scream, he let out a few last whimpering sobs like a kicked dog.

  Shudder.

  Silence washed him away.

  “Well, shit,” Klista said. “That was…”

  The elf’s lip curled cruel to the scar on her cheek as she finished; “Mean of me?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Hooded in darkness, the two Shivs crouched.

  “Bonebreakers,” Klista whispered.

  “Yeah.” Flat.

  Ten of them.

  “You really pissed them off.” Turned slightly. “How’d you do that, anyway?”

  “Fucked if I know.”

  “Well, it’s really weird. Not that I mind killing the bastards, but this might be the first time I’ve killed a whole gang.” Quiet giggle. “Filth’s gonna love me for it. Two Shivs wiped out an entire gang. When that gets round Dragonclaw, ain’t nobody gonna mess with us again. Ever.”

  “Won’t be a problem?”

  “Are you shitting me? They’re fucking slavers. Most of us, if we have a fight, we roll each other. Break a few bones. Maybe cut each other up a bit. Kill if we have to. But Bonebreakers take you to the docks. Sell you to fucking slavers.”

  “Slavers.”

  “Yeah. Mostly sell you to Caspies. But a few go north.” She bared her teeth in disgust. “I had a friend who was shipped out, I’m sure of it. Been thinking about her a lot since this started. Hoping wherever she is, she knows what I’m doing. If not, it’ll be a story to share one day, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What�
��re they doing?”

  “Waiting.”

  “You think they know we’re here?”

  The elf shrugged. “Fuck knows. But we need to get through ‘em.”

  “Could be exciting.”

  “Still sure you want to tag along?”

  “If I left now, I couldn’t say I destroyed the Bonebreakers, could I? Ain’t no fucking way I come this far and let you walk out with the glory.”

  “Glory?”

  “One word’s as good as another.”

  The elf sucked her teeth.

  Remembered part of her training had involved moving through crowds. Now and then, the Jukkala needed to penetrate lines of soldiers.

  How?

  Speed.

  And power.

  No hesitation.

  If there was one of you, she’d been told, you should be dead by about the third step through their ranks.