Darkblade Guardian

by Andy Peloquin

  It wouldn’t be his first encounter with bloodthirsty groups—he’d wiped out one such in Voramis that had killed in the name of the Bloody Minstrel, controlling the population to avoid disease. Those kills had been ritualistic, and the Serenii symbol carved into the children’s chests and the strange, smooth plaster casing on the victim’s head had the same feel. This went beyond simple murder. Whatever twisted logic drove them, these people killed with a purpose.

  That changes nothing. The Hunter bared his teeth in a snarl. This ends now.

  He picked up speed and charged toward the figures at the far end of the tunnel, but one by one they disappeared around a corner, taking their lights with them. The Hunter chafed at the slow speed of his awkward spider-legged run. He couldn’t lose them, but he couldn’t alert them to his presence until he was certain they wouldn’t escape. If the demon was among them—and chances were good that the Abiarazi would be leading this bloodthirsty pack of murderers—he’d need the element of surprise to take the bastard down. His human followers would be easy prey.

  But when the Hunter reached the intersection, he found it dark, without so much as a glimmer of light to indicate the direction the killers had gone. He stifled a growl of frustration and forced himself to calm. He had to be closing in on them, so he just had to follow them until he caught sight of their lights again. Patience and persistence would be his greatest weapon in pursuit.

  He listened again, and his heart leapt at the faint sound of splashing coming from ahead. Seconds later, a metallic clang echoed down the tunnel, followed by the creak of rusted hinges. A wisp of wind washed across his face.

  The Hunter’s stomach bottomed out. If they closed that door, he’d never find them in the darkness. Their lights were all he had to guide him now.

  He abandoned all attempt at stealth and raced through the darkness, his boots splashing water all around him. His arms pumped and he poured every shred of speed into his legs. He nearly stumbled as his foot caught on something solid in the dark, but he caught his balance, righted himself, and raced on.

  The creak came from ahead and to the right, and the Hunter slowed as he felt a subtle change in the air current in the tunnel. The clang of the closing door sounded somewhere ahead of him, echoing with a terrible finality. The wispy breeze fell still and the Hunter stood alone in the darkness.

  Keeper’s teeth! He drew in a deep breath, ignoring the foul odors assaulting his nostrils, and replayed that sound in his mind. The door was somewhere ahead of him, no more than twenty or thirty paces up the tunnel. All he had to do was feel his way along the stone walls until he found the metal door.

  How hard could that be?

  He chose the right-hand side of the tunnel at random, and ran his hands along the wall. Time and damp had coated the stones in a layer of slime that twisted his stomach, but he forced himself to ignore the slippery sensation. Eyes closed, he worked his way down the tunnel, feeling his way with his feet and counting every step. He hadn’t found a door by the time he reached fifty, so he crossed the tunnel and began working his way along the other wall.

  He’d taken five steps when light blossomed in the tunnel behind him. He whirled, momentarily blinded by the brilliance, but that didn’t stop him drawing his sword.

  “Bloody hell!” shouted a voice from behind the light source.

  The Hunter blinked and stared into the red and blue glow coming from ahead of him. His heart sank at the man’s next words.

  “We found him!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The trail of blood went dry within ten paces. Ilanna swept the beam of lamplight back and forth across the rooftop, even sent Kodyn over the nearby gap to search the next roof. All in vain.

  Damn it! They’d lost Kindan’s killer.

  “Any luck?” Kodyn asked as he returned.

  Ilanna shook her head. “The blood drops simply disappear here.” She glanced over the edge of the roof, and though her beamer helped to push back the evening gloom filling the alleyway below, she found only an empty, rubbish-strewn lane. Nothing to give even the slightest indication of where the killer had gone.

  Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do next. With any luck, Aisha’s found something and Ria will be waiting in my office with information on Chantelle. Or the Scorpions have located the poisoner. Something, anything, to put an end to this fruitless search.

  She felt like a dog chasing its tail, and she’d grown tired of the pursuit. She needed to sink her teeth into something soon before she lost her patience.

  “We head back to the Aerie,” she told Kodyn. “There’s no point in searching for him now.”

  Kodyn looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at her face and he held his silence. The choice surprised Ilanna. There’d been a time, not long ago, when he’d have argued simply for the sake of defying her. That would be the action of a child, but evidently the young man before her knew when to hold his ground and when to accede.

  Ilanna shot a glance at her son as she ran beside him across the rooftops. He has grown up so much. Not just in body, but his mind as well. Watcher help anyone who gets in his way.

  She could only hope she’d be around to see that day. Life as Master Gold had its share of perils, enemies from both outside the Guild’s walls and within. If she failed to apprehend this murderer, Duke Phonnis would finally have his most fervent wish: he’d watch her hang in Watcher’s Square or brave the Field of Mercy.

  I’ll be damned if I give him that satisfaction. Anger burned hot and bright in her chest, lending wings to her feet. She soon left Kodyn behind, much to her son’s surprise. I’ll find this bloody killer if I have to turn over every stone in Praamis.

  Her gut tightened as she caught sight of light glimmering on a nearby rooftop. She hesitated, only a moment, until the illumination of a beamer lantern outlined the strong, confident face of Errik, Master Serpent. He stood in the midst of a group of eight Serpents, locked in conference with Shaw, Master of House Hound, and seven Hound Journeymen.

  Ilanna raced toward them. “House Masters, good of you to answer the summons.”

  Eighteen men and women turned toward her, hands dropping to weapons.

  Errik recognized her first. “Master Gold.” He straightened and removed his hand from the matching swords sheathed at his hips. “House Serpent stands ready.”

  “And House Hound.” Shaw stepped up beside Errik. “What brings the Guild Master to the rooftops at this hour?”

  Ilanna recounted Kodyn’s story of Kindan’s fight with the murderer, their search of the rooftops, and the mysterious blood spatter.

  “Perhaps your Hounds will have better luck tracking the killer than I.”

  A small smile twitched Shaw’s too-thin lips. “Perhaps.”

  Ilanna didn’t need to read minds to read his thoughts: she was a Hawk, skilled in the ways of third-story thieving, not a tracker. She could only hope his self-confidence paid off with results.

  “Travel in pairs,” Ilanna said to the assembled Journeymen. “The man we seek killed Kindan, and my son tells me he is far more skilled than we anticipated.”

  The Serpents muttered among themselves, their faces etched with anger. Kindan had been well-liked among not only his fellow Journeymen, but all in the Night Guild. He’d also numbered among the Serpents’ most skilled. Without a word, eight of the Serpents paired off with the eight Hounds.

  Kodyn stepped forward. “Will you permit me to join you in the hunt, Master Serpent? As the Guild Master says, it is better for us to travel in pairs. I would be honored to watch your back and aid in the search however I can.”

  Ilanna stiffened. She hated the idea of Kodyn hunting the murderer in the dark, but the look in his eyes told her he wouldn’t back down from this argument, not in front of the Hounds and Serpents. And he’d been clever to try and trap her with her own words and his choice to accompany Errik.

  Errik hesitated and shot a questioning glance at Ilanna. He’d grown fond of the boy and Ilann
a knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to Kodyn. And, to make Kodyn the strong man he had the potential to be, she had to let him stretch his wings. She gave Errik an almost imperceptible nod.

  “I welcome the company, little Hawk.” From anyone else, the name would have been an insult. But Errik numbered among the very few people—aside from Ria and Ilanna—that knew the truth of Kodyn’s name. It had come from Khodein, the word for “hawk” in the language of the Twelve Kingdoms, chosen by the Al Hani-born midwife that had helped birth him.

  Errik raised his voice to address the gathered Serpents and Hounds. “We begin our search where the Guild Master said she found blood.” He placed a hand on Kodyn’s shoulder. “Lead the way, apprentice.”

  With a nod, Kodyn turned and raced off along the rooftops. The Serpents and Hounds fell in step behind him, trying their best to keep up on the unfamiliar territory.

  Errik paused before leaving. “We’ll look, but if you didn’t find anything, I doubt the Hounds will.”

  “I know,” Ilanna said with a sigh, “but I can’t abide standing by and doing nothing.”

  Errik nodded. “The rest of my Serpents are with those Hounds and Foxes combing the sewers. With the Watcher’s help, we will find him, Ilanna.”

  She nodded. “Be safe, my friend. Keep him safe, too.”

  “With my life.” Errik gave her a little nod and turned away.

  She watched her friend leap off across a wide gulf between tiled roofs, then turned back to the window that led onto the Perch and into the Aerie.

  The descent to the hard-packed earth floor took longer than she remembered. Her arms, legs, and shoulders ached from the effort of supporting her weight, and the ropes left small blisters through the worn leather gloves. She determined to spend less time trapped behind a desk from now on—Darreth could always handle more responsibility. The man had an uncanny knack for plowing through piles of paperwork, reports, and messages in a fraction of the time it took her.

  Anything to get me out and about more.

  Exhaustion tugged at her limbs as she strode through the tunnels that led from House Hawk to her Guild Master chambers, but the sight of a Scorpion—a freckled, red-haired Journeyman by the name of Acaria—pushed the fatigue away.

  She raised an eyebrow as Journeyman Acaria giggled nervously and pushed her spectacles up onto her nose. Is that my imagination, or are those two flirting? She hadn’t thought the Night Guild held anyone as awkward as Darreth, but it seemed this Scorpion was her aide’s match.

  “Journeyman.” Ilanna called out. “I hope you bring good news.”

  Darreth leapt to his feet, his face an interesting shade of red. Acaria flushed an even deeper shade of crimson and stammered out, “Y-Yes, Master Gold.”

  When no information was forthcoming, Ilanna arched her eyebrow higher. “Well?”

  “Er, ah, right.” Acaria, visibly off-balance, cleared her throat. “Tyman…er, Master Scorpion, sends word that we’ve found the one responsible. He said you’ll know what that means.”

  “Thank you.” Ilanna’s heart leapt, excitement draining the last of the fatigue from her body. She turned toward the tunnels that led to House Scorpion, but when Acaria made to follow her, she held up a hand. “I can find my own way, Journeyman. I’m certain Darreth would enjoy the company far more than I.”

  Darreth’s face went red all the way up to the roots of his dark hair and he stammered something unintelligible—a rarity from the long-winded man.

  Ilanna grinned as she strode down the hard-packed earth tunnels. Good for Darreth. He deserves a bit of happiness. Gods knew there hadn’t been a lot of that in her life.

  Five minutes later, she pushed open the doors and strode into House Scorpion with the full confidence of her authority. “Where is Master Scorpion?” she demanded of the first Journeyman she saw.

  The Scorpion bowed, then thrust a finger toward one of the rear tunnels. “With Journeyman Rilmine.”

  Ilanna thanked him with a nod and hurried toward the foul-smelling chamber of death.

  Four Scorpions occupied the room: Journeyman Rilmine, Master Tyman, and two Ilanna recognized as Keltor and Checqk.

  Journeyman Rilmine leaned against one of his examination tables, which still held the opened corpse of one of the murder victims. Master Tyman sat in a chair in front of a fifth seated, bound, and hooded figure.

  All eyes turned to her as she stepped into the room. Keltor, a slim, fussy-looking fellow, bowed at her entrance, but had to quickly catch his spectacles before they fell off the tip of his nose. Checqk had features as bland and dull as a bowl of watery porridge, but Ilanna knew his mind rivaled the cleverest in House Scorpion.

  She fixed Tyman with a stern glare. “This is he?”

  Keltor stepped forward. “I’m certain of it, Master Gold.” His voice held a note of familiarity—he’d been one of the Journeymen chosen to accompany her to Voramis to hunt down Lord Torath, the Bloody Hand-owned nobleman responsible for trafficking Aisha and the other girls into Praamis. “Daytin here tried to deny it, but a thorough search of his apothecary turned up a surprisingly large supply of Flaming Tansy.”

  “And the Night Petal?” Ilanna cocked an eyebrow.

  Keltor shook his head. “None.”

  Ilanna frowned. One rare poison, but not the other?

  Master Scorpion seemed to read her thoughts. “I have more Scorpions searching the other establishments in Praamis for Night Petal.”

  “Good.” Ilanna studied the man bound in the chair in front of Tyman. A dirty cloth sack covered Daytin’s face, but he wore clothes far neater and better-tailored than she’d expect of an apothecary. It seemed dealing in exotic poisons was a more lucrative trade than she’d imagined.

  Ilanna motioned to Keltor and Checqk. “Put him onto the table beside the boy’s body.”

  The two exchanged curious glances. “Guild Master?”

  “Do it,” Ilanna snapped. “On his side, hands bound behind his back, but keep his hood on.”

  Keltor spoke first. “Yes, Master Gold.” He elbowed Checqk, and together the two men unbound Daytin, hauled him to his feet, and dragged him over to Journeyman Rilmine’s examination table.

  “Massster Gold, I mussst protessst—” Rilmine began.

  “No, you mustn’t.” Ilanna cut him off with a slash of her hand. “Your body will not be disturbed. I simply wish for this man to see the results of his handiwork up close.”

  Half of Rilmine’s face creased into a frown, but he made way for Keltor and Checqk to lift the man onto the table. The man squirmed and struggled, muffled moans and grunts coming from beneath his mask, but the two Scorpions held him fast and bound his hands behind his back with deft movements.

  Ilanna strode to the head of the examination table, seized the man’s hood, and ripped it free. Daytin blinked in the sudden light, tears streaming down his face—a face caked in blood from a busted lip and broken nose. The Bloodbears hadn’t been gentle.

  It took Daytin’s eyes a few seconds to adjust to the brightness, but when he could finally focused, he recoiled from the silent, pale corpse lying a hand’s breath from his face. The gag in his mouth failed to fully muffle his piercing, terrified shriek.

  Good, thought Ilanna with a savage nod. Daytin had sold the poison that killed this child. He needs to be scared for what comes next.

  She lowered her face until it was mere inches from the apothecary’s. “Hello, Daytin. Welcome to the Night Guild.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Hunter’s eyes adjusted to the light in seconds, and he found himself staring at a group of six men.

  Five men, he corrected, and one barely more than a lad.

  The youth wore ragged, dull-colored clothing that hung large on his thin frame and shabby boots with large holes through which his toes poked. One of the men wore similarly patched, shredded, and re-patched clothing, his body lean with muscle and not enough to eat. Two more wore slightly nicer breeches and tunics, with boots that actuall
y fit and kept out the muck. The fifth dressed in the rough clothes of a sailor or dock worker, with the strong hands, broad shoulders, and thick neck to match.

  It was the sixth, however, that drew the Hunter’s attention most. The man’s clothes were no more ostentatious than his comrades’, yet of a finer cut and cloth, tailored to fit his lithe form. The sword at his hip had the worn leather grip of a well-used blade, and the Hunter caught the outlines and telltale bulges of at least four daggers hidden around his person—a sharp contrast to the big brute’s metal-studded club and the assorted short swords and knives of the others.

  The Hunter recognized the man for what he was at once. An assassin. Just like the man I faced on the rooftop. His gut clenched. Which means he, and all his friends, belong to the Night Guild.

  The Hunter had no reason to fear the Night Guild—he’d single-handedly destroyed the Bloody Hand, a far more ruthless enterprise commanded by two demons. Yet he had no reason to wish them dead, and certainly no reason to wage war on them.

  Unless they’re the ones doing the killing.

  His mind raced as he put the pieces together. He’d followed someone into the sewers and found himself facing not a single killer, but ten of them. He had thought his prey evaded him by ducking into a hidden door—a door he now saw clearly in the red and blue light of the little glass globe lamps two of the men carried—but that could have simply been a ruse to throw him off his guard.

  So where are the other four? The question nagged at him. Had they gone for help? Or, had they actually gone through the door and were even now working their way around behind him? Whatever the case, there’s no way I’m letting these bastards escape justice.

  All of this flashed through his mind in mere seconds, long enough for the Night Guild men to get a good look at his clothing and his sword.

  “Who are you?” The Night Guild assassin spoke in a calm voice, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. As the Hunter had, he must have recognized the killer he faced. “What are you doing down here?”