Wrath of the Fury Blade

by Geoff Habiger

  “You’re letting a killer get away with murdering people just for a promised reward? Did you let him get away yesterday on purpose in the hopes of getting a bigger reward?”

  Ansee winced, that stung. Reva gave him a withering glare. “How pathetic.”

  Ansee lowered the sword a bit, wanting to respond. It was what Reva had been waiting for. She leapt at Ansee, her right hand grabbing at the sword hilt while her left hand came down in an overhand chop right onto Ansee’s left arm, just above the bracer. The blow hit a nerve, shooting pain up and down the arm and causing Ansee to involuntarily open his hand and loosen his grip on the sword.

  Ansee reacted without thinking, a combination of training and anger taking over. “Alikoymak şok!” he called, thrusting his left hand toward Reva. The hand glowed blue with sparks arcing between outstretched fingers. He managed to strike Reva on her right elbow, hitting a vulnerable spot not protected by the leather of her armor or bracers. The lightning touch jolted Reva’s body, causing it to spasm as the magical energy overloaded her nerves. She fell in a heap on the floor as the lightning continued to dance across her body.

  “Oh, shit! Shit! Shit!” Ansee swore to himself. I didn’t mean to do that. He’d just reacted to Reva’s attack out of instinct. Reva’s body lay unmoving on the floor. Ansee reached down and touched her neck. He felt a faint pulse and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

  “Well, I guess this solves the problem of what to do about the Wake.” Ansee reached for the pocket and pulled out the small tin. He wanted to throw it away but decided it would be better to keep it. He opened the tin and saw that it was almost empty.

  He left Reva where she lay and went to the door, stepping out into the rotunda. He saw Senior Constable Ghrellstone across the room talking with another Constable. He managed to get Willem’s attention and the Senior Constable walked over.

  “What’s up, Seeker? Have you seen the Inspector anywhere?”

  “You might say that,” Ansee opened the door and ushered Willem into the room.

  Willem walked in and caught sight of the Inspector laying on the floor. “Holy Basvu! What the hell happened?”

  “Uh,” Ansee rubbed a hand across the back of his head. “The Inspector and I had a disagreement and I cast a lightning shock spell on her to knock her out.”

  “You cast a lightning bolt at the Inspector?” Willem asked angrily. His hand reached for his sword and pulled it from the sheath, pointing it at the Seeker. “You better explain yourself, Seeker.”

  “No! No! It’s not what you think.” Ansee defensively waved his right hand in front of him. The earlier comradery the Senior Constable had shown seemed to be gone now. “It wasn’t a lightning bolt. This was a different spell that uses lightning to shock and stun a person. They lose control of their body and become unconscious.”

  Willem continued to point the sword at the Seeker. “And why did you feel it necessary to knock your commanding officer unconscious?”

  “Because of this.” Ansee held up his left hand, showing the tin to Willem.

  Willem lifted one eyebrow. He took the tin, but kept the sword pointed at the Seeker. Opening the tin with one hand he looked at the contents. “Wake,” he said. “And why do you think Wake is the cause?”

  “Because I’ve seen what Wake can really do to people. It’s more dangerous than people know.”

  “Hawkshit.” Willem looked shocked. “Are you sure?”

  Ansee nodded. “My sister was a user, so I know what it can really do to a long-term user.”

  Willem paused to consider this. He had no experience with Wake; he’d never taken it, and discouraged other Constables from using it when he could. He considered it dangerous to rely on something like Wake to keep alert. But he knew plenty of Constables that did use Wake. The Seeker seemed confident in what he had said though. “Fine. But if you say Wake is dangerous for a long-term user, how is the Inspector affected? I’ve never seen Reva use Wake before. How long do you think she has been on the stuff?”

  “Maybe a day. No more than two. With such strong aggression and paranoia like we saw today, I think you’d have been aware of a problem if it had been longer than that.”

  “There’s no way that she’s only been using it for a couple of days. This tin is almost empty. A tin this size would hold enough Wake for two or three weeks.”

  “Look,” Ansee said testily, still aware of the sword Willem held. “I know what I saw and what the Inspector did. How she was acting. I can’t explain how or why, but the Inspector really only started acting out of character today. You saw for yourself what happened this morning.”

  “The altercation with the Luminary,” Willem said, closing the tin and handing it back to Ansee. He finally lowered his sword and sheathed it. “I still don’t know if I buy what you are telling me. A lot of Constables use Wake and I’ve never seen anybody get all angry and paranoid or anything.”

  “I can’t explain it either. I just know that what happened to my sister was also happening with the Inspector.”

  Willem turned to look at Reva. “Shouldn’t she be coming around or something?”

  “Yes, but I think my magic and the effects of the drug have overwhelmed her body. It may have decided that Reva needs to stay knocked out, to fight off the drug’s effects.”

  “Well, shit. We can’t just leave her here. And I don’t think we can carry her out. People will notice and ask questions.”

  “No, we can’t have that,” Ansee agreed. “She’ll probably be out for several hours, so this is what we’ll do. I will open a gate to my flat for you to take her there. She’ll be safe there while she rests.”

  “With that fire demon of a pet you have?”

  “Ember won’t hurt her.”

  “Why not her place?”

  “If you want to answer all of her mother’s questions about what happened to her I can do that.”

  “Uh, yeah. I’d rather face a horde of dark elves armed with a spoon.”

  “Fine, it’s my place then.” Willem nodded his agreement. “I’ll stay here,” Ansee continued, “and continue working the scene. You return as soon as you can.”

  “What if somebody asks where the Inspector is?”

  “Tell them that the Inspector went back to New Port and left me to handle the rest of the interviews. Penance for punching that Patrol Constable.”

  “What about the First Constable? He’s bound to notice her missing and want to know where she’s gone.”

  “The truth,” Ansee sighed. “If he asks. It’s for her own good, and if FC Aescel has all the information, he can help deflect inquiries. Should he start asking about her, I’ll talk to him.”

  “Okay,” Willem said. He picked up Reva’s sword and then picked up the Inspector.

  Ansee walked to one of the walls, pulling out a piece of chalk from a pocket. He drew a rough door on the wall and several symbols in the middle. He worked quickly and then knocked on the door three times, uttering, “Boyut-ev kapi.”

  The chalk flared with a canary-yellow light as the wall behind it vanished, replaced by the front room of Ansee’s flat. Ember was lying on a stack of books and lifted her head, cocking it to the left inquisitively.

  Willem walked up with Reva in his arms.

  “Put her on my bed,” Ansee said, putting Reva’s dagger back. “She’ll be safe. I’ll be by as soon as I can to check on her.”

  Willem nodded and walked through the door. It vanished with a flash of yellow light, the wall upon which Ansee had cast his spell untouched, no trace of the chalk remaining.

  Twenty-four

  Ailan trudged up the circular stone steps of Bay Tower toward his office in the Red Keep. He was exhausted and wanted nothing better than to find a quiet place where he could rest for a while.

  He’d spent the last several hours interrogating the wizard
Gwenyth. After they’d arrived at the Red Keep last night, they had thrown her in a dungeon cell to let her stew for a few hours. This served two functions. For one, a person thrown in a cell without cause or justification often let something slip as they imagined all the reasons they might be there. The guard stationed at the cell door always listened carefully for useful information they could use in the interrogation.

  The other reason was more practical, at least for Ailan. It had allowed him to freshen up after the stakeout and capture of the criminal. He’d been able to eat a light supper: eel roasted in garlic oil and a thick black bread. He hated performing interrogations on an empty stomach. (It gave the wrong impression to the prisoner if your stomach rumbled during questioning.)

  Gwenyth had been harder to crack than he’d anticipated. Her sobs at the time of her arrest had either been faked—highly unlikely since everyone feared the Sucra and nearly everyone arrested wept or cried—or she’d managed to tap some inner resolve or will while waiting in the cell. Whatever the reason, she’d been quite stubborn in answering Malvaceä’s questions. Normally he’d have let her stew some more, altering her meal schedule and waking her at odd times to mess up her sleep schedule. A prisoner who was sleep deprived often revealed information without the need for force, but Malvaceä didn’t have time for subtle methods.

  After about an hour of her refusing to answer his questions, Malvaceä began employing more aggressive interrogation methods. She’d been stripped naked and bound to a board, then repeatedly dunked in a basin of water, longer and longer until she almost drowned. This had caused the prisoner only to admit that she’d made the fake blade, but not who she’d made it for.

  Malvaceä had gotten very upset by this point—it was taking far longer to get any information from the prisoner than he’d expected. He sent the prisoner back to her cell for about an hour while he regrouped. When she was brought back to the interrogation room she entered to find her son there. He was stripped to the waste and bound, spread eagle, to a wooden rack. A Novice judiciously applied a strong lash with a short, three-lash whip just as the prisoner had entered the room.

  The timing had been perfect, the boy crying in pain just as the woman entered the room. She’d reacted as Malvaceä had expected most mothers to react, pleading with them to not harm her son. She broke then, telling Malvaceä what he wanted to learn. It still took another hour, and a couple more lashings, to make sure he had all the information and that the details didn’t change. He had to be sure that the prisoner wasn’t holding out on him.

  Unfortunately, he was unable to get a name from the prisoner. Persistent questioning and further applications of the lash on the boy indicated that she did not know the name of the elf who’d commissioned the blade. She had given Malvaceä a description that fit most of the male population in Tenyl, but it was a start. There was always the chance that the elf had worn a disguise, but Malvaceä knew from personal experience that disguises were tricky to pull off well, especially for the unskilled. He was betting that the elf had not worn a disguise to commission the blade. It was possible the elf had had an illusion spell active to disguise himself, but the laws passed by King Ilválé that regulated illusionary magic among regular citizens made it very difficult for ordinary people to get their hands on such spells or magical items. With the prisoner’s description, combined with other details, Malvaceä was sure he’d be able to track down the killer.

  Ailan finally reached the landing and headed down one of the anonymous corridors to his office. The killer was nearly in his grasp. When I capture this murderous fuck I want to shove him before Lunaria. I want to wipe that smug look off her face and show that bitch who the better investigator is.

  Ailan sighed, since he knew that would never happen, no matter how much he desired it. When he found this killer, he’d kill him, and dispose of the body where it would never be found. The attacks would just stop and Lunaria would be forced to leave the case open, unsolved. It would be a victory for him, though not nearly as satisfying.

  But now he just wanted a few hours’ rest. He opened the door to his office and walked in. Warm mid-morning sunlight cheerily filled the small room. Space in the Red Keep was at a premium, but this room was all his; he didn’t have to share it with another Inquisitor. Two tables sat in the room, a small round one in the corner—it had a couple of chairs so Ailan could meet with subordinates. The other was a large rectangular table in front of the tall, thin window. It was where he did his work, filling out the endless parchmentwork that came with the job. Two tall bookcases, mostly empty, flanked the window. A portrait of King Aeonis was the only decoration and hung on the wall next to the door.

  Sitting at the larger table, his back to the door, casually looking through the reports and letters, was Grand Inquisitor Agera. He wore a thigh-length vest of forest green trimmed in gold over a simple white shirt. White breeches with a green stripe along the outside seam were pulled tight over a bent leg, brown riding boots propped up on the rung of the stool. Habit took over Ailan’s fatigued body and he came to attention and saluted. “Hail, King Aeonis!”

  The Grand Inquisitor held up one finger from his right hand as he continued to read some report. Finished, he finally turned to face Ailan, acknowledging the salute with a gesture. “Olea’s dead,” Agera said before Ailan could say anything.

  Ailan’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened at the statement. “What? How?”

  “His body was found this morning at Pfeta fey Orung. The Constabulary is already there cleaning up the mess.”

  “Was it the work of the killer, or was Olea killed by our associates as punishment for losing the blade?” Ailan asked, recovering from the shock.

  “I doubt it was our Underforest friends,” Agera said. “My information is sketchy, but apparently Olea’s body was hacked to pieces. The largest piece was his head, which had been cut off and spared most of the assault. The Underforest elves are not so…sloppy in their methods.

  “I must apologize for doubting you earlier.” Agera stood and took a step toward Ailan. “When you suggested the killer was using the Fury Blade I didn’t want to believe you. It seemed so unlikely that somebody could steal the blade without our knowledge. And too preposterous to think one of us was using the blade. But I can’t deny the fact that Olea’s death bears all the hallmarks of that weapon.”

  Ailan was a bit amazed by the Grand Inquisitor’s apology. He was not an elf known for acknowledging mistakes. Ailan said, “The killer is apparently not fully in control of the weapon. If Olea was hacked to death, then something must have caused the killer to lose control and give in to the weapon’s power.”

  “That does appear to be the case,” Agera acknowledged. He leaned back against the table. “Tell me what you know.”

  Ailan silently thanked the gods that he had some good news to give the Grand Inquisitor. He spent fifteen minutes filling Agera in on his trip to inspect the blade yesterday, the discovery of the fake blade, and the capture and interrogation of the prisoner. Agera remained silent throughout Ailan’s recounting of the events. When he’d finished, the Grand Inquisitor began pacing the small room, one finger tapping his pursed lips. After a minute or so he stopped and looked at Ailan.

  “How long will it take for you to find the killer and dispose of him?”

  “No more than two days at the most,” Ailan said confidently. “With the description I have from the prisoner, and limiting my search to members of Pfeta fey Orung, I will be able to find him.”

  “Good. See to it. But we need to take care of the Constabulary as well.”

  “Why? Once I’ve dealt with the killer the attacks will stop. Inspector Lunaria will be forced to leave the case open as unsolved.”

  “Too risky,” Agera said flatly. “Do you think for a moment that the good Inspector will leave the case alone, even if the killings stop?”

  Malvaceä acknowledged that she wouldn’t with
a shake of his head.

  “There’s too much at stake if she continues poking around. If she continues to fixate on the blade, she’s bound to find something. I can’t risk that she’ll uncover anything about what we are doing.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “With the deaths of three key members of our organization we need time to regroup. I need to advance some of my plans to gain control of different groups. Losing control of the Treasury and the Magistrates are serious setbacks that will take time to recover from. I need other people in place so I can recoup our losses. So, to start with, I need to get control of the RTC. LCI Gania must be removed.”

  Malvaceä smiled, immediately grasping what the Grand Inquisitor was saying. “If we can dispose of the Lord Constable Inspector in a way to suggest that our killer did the deed, then also arrange for her murderer to be killed at the scene with the fake Fury Blade in hand…”

  “Yes,” Agera nodded. “Once Gania is dead, I will be able to maneuver the Mayor and the King to promote First Constable Betulla to LCI. With Gania’s death pinned on the killer, Inspector Lunaria will close the case and be none the wiser. We kill two birds with one arrow.

  “Get it taken care of.”

  Malvaceä nodded. “I will get the details worked out. We will get it done.”

  “Tonight,” Agera commanded.

  Malvaceä swallowed. Tonight? That was cutting it close to get everything in place. He nodded his head, though. He wasn’t about to contradict an order from the Grand Inquisitor.

  “Good. Now I need to go lay the groundwork for Betulla’s transition.” He walked out of the office, leaving Ailan standing alone.