by Sue Tingey
“Shush,” he said, then both he and Shenanigans glanced around the room as though there may be someone listening in on us.
“I must admit, he has gone a little too far. He can’t be thinking rationally,” Jinx said in a quiet voice.
“What’s happened?” Shenanigans asked.
“Daltas is residing in the Chambers of Rectification with our old pal Henri,” Jinx said.
Shenanigans and Kerfuffle exchanged a glance and the little demon moved closer to us to speak in a low voice. “If this is true—”
“We heard it from the horse’s mouth,” Jinx told him.
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” Kerfuffle wagged his head from side to side, his marshmallow cheeks bouncing and swinging so hard I had to stifle a giggle that was more than a little hysterical. “If word gets out, there’s no telling what the other lords will do.”
“No one will feel safe,” Shenanigans agreed.
“What do you think tipped him over the edge?” Jinx asked Jamie.
Jamie blew through pursed lips. “He was always bordering on bonkers, and arresting Henri was a surprise; I always thought he was fireproof. But Daltas?” He sunk down onto the edge of the sofa. “His arrest is downright alarming.”
“One thing we can be sure of,” Jinx said, “neither Daltas nor Henri have anything to do with Kayla’s abduction. If they had they would have told Amaliel.”
All my guards nodded, their expressions very grim indeed.
“Surely to admit to it would make things even worse for them?” I said.
Six pairs of eyes turned to look at me and Pyrites made a mewing sound and wrapped himself around my ankles. “Lucky, what Baltheza told you about Amaliel’s methods was the truth. Amaliel has made torture an art form.”
“So, you really don’t believe Daltas and Henri can have had anything to do with Kayla’s abduction?”
“They would have admitted it,” Jamie said. “No question.”
I blew out a breath. We were basically back to square one. “Well,” I said, “for all his spies and contacts he couldn’t tell us where the Sicarii are now. So, where do you suggest we start looking?”
“The Drakon’s Rest is usually a good place for rumors, and if you were indeed followed there by a Sicarii spy, then it might be the place to find him again,” Shenanigans said.
“Will they be open for business?” I asked.
“Of course,” Kerfuffle said, “Barron loves his work and it’ll keep his mind off worrying about Odin and Angela.”
“He needn’t worry about Odin,” Jinx said.
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“A perk of the job, I know when someone who is sick or injured has the shades of death waiting at their shoulder and sometimes, particularly when it’s a child, I can shoo them away. Odin wasn’t so close to death I couldn’t change his fortune.”
“But he would’ve died?”
“His life was in the balance, it wasn’t a foregone conclusion. If it had been I wouldn’t have been able to help him. Don’t go thinking I can work miracles.”
“No miracles required. A little push in the right direction is enough,” I said with a grateful smile.
“I’m not so sure,” Kerfuffle said, “we could do with a miracle if we’re to find the Lady Kayla.”
“Then let’s hope we find one at the Drakon’s Rest,” Jamie said.
Eight
The inn was busier than ever, though the clientele were a little more subdued than usual, but I guess word had got out about the events of the morning. Once again, as soon as we walked through the door the chattering stuttered into silence and a passageway formed in the crowd leading to the corner table we normally used.
“Nice one, Deathbringer,” a voice said as we passed.
“Aye, good on yer,” another voice added. Then another, and another as we passed. They didn’t go quite as far as patting him on the back, but it was clear word had got around about what Jinx had done for Oddy.
“This hasn’t done your street cred a terrible amount of good,” Jamie murmured as he pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.
Jinx looked at him in puzzlement. “Street cred?”
“It means reputation,” I explained.
“What can I say,” Jinx replied, “I am one seriously misunderstood individual.”
We had hardly dropped into our seats when Leila appeared by the table.
“How’s Oddy?” Shenanigans asked, getting back onto his feet.
She held a hand level and tilted it from side to side. “In himself much better, but he’s distraught about Angela.” She turned to Jinx and gave him a shy smile. “Me and the family, we’d like to say thank you, you know, for Oddy.”
“Leila my darlin’, you know I would do anything for you,” Jinx said and winked.
Leila’s cheeks glowed lilac as she laid her hand on Shenanigans’ arm. “You should have thought of that before.”
Jinx gave a dramatic sigh, got to his feet and gave her a low bow. “My loss is my fine friend’s gain.”
“Hmm,” she said, clearly not impressed. “What can I get you all?”
Shenanigans dealt with our order while Jamie, Jinx and Kerfuffle surreptitiously looked around the crowded room. Vaybian got to his feet as he too scanned the faces of the occupants. Kerfuffle, not to be outdone, jumped up onto his chair to get a better view, his head turning this way and that. He must have glimpsed someone he knew as, with a satisfied, “He’ll do,” he hopped down from his perch and waddled off, pushing his way through the wall of bodies. Shenanigans saw him go, and after a few words to Leila, who sashayed off to the kitchen, followed after the little demon.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“Kerfuffle must have seen someone he thought could give him reliable information,” Jinx said.
Vaybian slumped down onto his chair. “Let’s hope they can help us,” he said, his voice weary.
“We will find her,” Jinx said.
“It’s taking too long and who knows what she’s going through.”
“Knowing Kayla, she’s probably making their lives as difficult as possible,” Jinx said. “Anyway, I’m sort of thinking it may not be all that hard to find them.”
“What makes you say that?” Vaybian asked as Leila returned with a tray of tankards and several jugs of ale together with a goblet of wine for me.
Jinx filled one of the tankards and pushed it across the table to the other demon before filling one for himself, while Leila served the drinks for the rest of us. “I’ll be back with the food shortly,” she told us.
Jinx took a slurp of his ale and when Leila was out of earshot leaned back in his chair and returned his attention to Vaybian. “If the whole idea is to lure Lucky into a trap, it won’t work very well if we are unable to find them.”
“If Baltheza’s spies couldn’t, I doubt anyone else can.”
“The Sicarii might know how to evade Baltheza’s spies,” Jinx said. “After all, they do have spies of their own.”
I sipped on my goblet of wine as I glanced across the room, hoping to catch sight of my other two guards. They were nowhere to be seen.
“If they’re obtaining information they’ve probably gone out back,” Jamie said, seeing me scanning the bar.
“You think?”
He took another swig of his drink. “If you’re asking questions about the Sicarii you don’t do it in a crowded bar.”
“And if you did you certainly wouldn’t expect any answers,” Jinx said, “not unless your informant has a death wish.”
“Why is it they’ve been allowed to get away with this for so long?” I asked.
“Think on your world. How many times have there been cults, regimes or even nations that have killed and tortured in some religious fervor? Besides which, Baltheza, who is really the only one with enough power to do anything, has his own motivations. There may be a reason he hasn’t yet confronted them,” Jinx said, and if I had to describe his expression I woul
d say it was pained. He may be the bringer of death and destruction, but it was pretty damn obvious violence and cruelty filled him with sadness and anger.
There wasn’t much more I could say to that. I was beginning to realize that humans and daemonkind weren’t much different; some were kind, some were cruel and some were downright nasty.
We all sat there staring into our ale, or in my case wine, in silence. We were at a loss and unless Kerfuffle and Shenanigans came up with something, we still had a lot to do before we had any chance of finding the Sicarii and hopefully Kayla.
The food arrived, but Kerfuffle and Shenanigans didn’t. “Shouldn’t we try to find them?” I asked.
“All the more for us,” Jinx said, piling food onto his plate. “With the big guy out of the way we’ll get double portions—at least.”
I picked at my food, not having any appetite after my conversation with Baltheza, much less coming face to face with Amaliel Cheriour. I wondered what he had been doing in Baltheza’s chambers—reporting back after questioning Henri or Daltas perhaps? I put down my knife and fork; I didn’t like either Henri or Daltas, but the thought of what they may be enduring pushed all desire to eat right out of my mind.
Pyrites laid his head on my lap and gazed up at me with his beautiful emerald-amethyst-sapphire kaleidoscope eyes and fluttered his eyelids, which made me smile. His love was unconditional and although he’d been mine for only a short time I couldn’t imagine what it would be like without him. He knew when I was happy and when I was sad, and somehow he knew instinctively what to do to make me feel, if not better, at least loved.
“Guardian,” Vaybian said, leaning across the table and keeping his voice low. “The one in the dark, hooded cloak standing at the counter; I’m sure it was he who was spying on us yesterday.”
Jamie looked across to the bar and Jinx turned in his seat, raising his hand as though calling to Leila for service. The demon was leaning on the counter, with one hand resting next to a tankard of ale. His body was angled so he was half turned away from us, but it would only take a slight movement of the head for him to keep an eye on what we were doing.
“I think I need a piss,” Jinx said, getting to his feet as Leila appeared by the table.
“You wanted something?”
Jinx leaned in close to her. “The gent at the bar in the hooded cloak—do you know him?”
Leila immediately got the gist of what was going on. She laughed as though Jinx had said something incredibly funny. “You are a one,” she said then lowered her voice, “he’s been in a few times over the past couple of days. Has one ale, makes it last and usually doesn’t finish it. Keeps his head down so I’ve never had a look at his face.”
“Would you keep an eye out for him—and anyone he meets with—in the future?”
She laughed again. “I’ll be back with your ale,” she said as she turned and walked away. Jinx glanced Jamie’s way and made for the backdoor.
Jamie got to his feet. “Pyrites,” he said, and my drakon popped out from under the table, “keep an eye out for trouble.” Pyrites puffed steam and sat to attention. Satisfied my drakon was on the case, Jamie followed Jinx outside.
Vaybian made a pretense of eating his meal, but his eyes were constantly shifting toward the cloaked figure. “Who do you think he is?” I asked.
Vaybian glanced my way and for once he wasn’t scowling. “If I had to guess I’d say he was one of Baltheza’s spies, but he could be Sicarii.”
I pushed my plate away. I was in danger of getting serious heartburn if I tried to eat anything. Pyrites put a claw on my knee and puffed a bit of steam. I took the hint.
“It’s all right boy. I hadn’t forgotten you,” and, after taking a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, took a few pieces of meat off my plate and dropped it into his open jaws. “Was that good?” I asked. He licked his lips and I passed him another titbit.
One of the other serving girls appeared with two more flagons of ale and plunked them on the table, then leaned in close to Vaybian and whispered something in his ear. His eyes narrowed and he turned to me as she walked away.
“What’s going on?”
“Apparently we’re to drink up and then leave by the back door.”
“Who says?”
“Leila.”
I glanced across to the bar where she was filling some tankards and tried to catch her eye, but two rowdy customers were keeping her occupied with their order and continuous banter. I noticed she had to bat away their wandering hands a couple of times. It was probably just as well Shenanigans wasn’t about.
“Right,” I said, knocking back the last of my wine.
Vaybian threw some coins onto the table and stood. As soon as I was on my feet he guided me toward the back door, Pyrites trotting along behind us—though I did notice my drakon paused long enough to take a surreptitious swipe of my plate with his long tongue.
We passed right by the cloaked figure at the bar and it took all my self-control not to sneak a look at him, then once he was behind us I was sure I could feel his eyes on my back. Pyrites made a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat. He didn’t like the demon either.
As soon as we were outside Vaybian drew his sword and grabbed my right hand. “Stay close to me,” he said, leading me across the courtyard toward the gate.
Behind us I heard the backdoor slam shut and we both swung around; Vaybian with his sword at the ready, but it was only Barron putting out an empty barrel. We hurried on across the yard, dodging crates of empty bottles and stacks of barrels until we reached the gate where Vaybian released my hand to reach for the catch. The door behind us slammed again and I glanced back over my shoulder.
“Vaybian,” I hissed grabbing his arm.
“What?” he hissed back. Then he saw: standing outside the back entrance to the inn was the figure in brown. Vaybian stepped past me and pushed me behind him while Pyrites began to grow. “Where are the others?” Vaybian muttered under his breath. I was wondering that too.
The brown-clad demon advanced toward us. “Fight or flee?” I asked.
“Fight,” he said, striding toward the center of the yard.
I followed for a couple of steps and then there was a thwanging sound that made the air vibrate followed by another and another. Pyrites let out a high-pitched wail and collapsed onto his forelegs.
“Pyrites!” My drakon made a mewing sound as three more arrows whistled past my head, hitting him in the back and sides. He swung his head around, snapping at the shafts and breaking several, but the heads remained embedded in his scales.
I looked around, searching for where the arrows were coming from. Three archers in brown stood on the roof of the inn. I dropped to my knees beside Pyrites, and took his head in my lap. He made a small mewing sound in the back of his throat that had me fighting back tears; they’d hurt him, they’d really hurt him. I wanted to hug him to me and tell him everything would be all right, but I wasn’t sure it would be and as if to prove it, the back gate burst open and three demons dressed in gray robes glided in, followed by five or six of their minions.
“Bastards!” I yelled at them and they laughed, damn them, they laughed.
They moved toward me and two of them grabbed hold of my arms and dragged me to my feet. I struggled and kicked as I tried to get back to Pyrites, my rage driving me beyond reason. Even as I fought them I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him and the liquid gold bleeding down his scales to puddle on the ground.
When I couldn’t bear the sight anymore I looked for Vaybian. He had also been overpowered and was kneeling with his hands on his head.
I couldn’t understand what had happened: my men were always vigilant. They could only be yards away—unless they were … I couldn’t even think it. Could the Guardian and the Deathbringer die? The bringer of eternal night surely wouldn’t succumb to an arrow or blade? And Jamie; my beautiful angel, he couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t. What if I had lost them all: Shenanigans, Ker
fuffle, Pyrites? Only sheer willpower stopped the tears of pain and desperation from flowing. They wouldn’t want me to weep for them, not now. They would want me to survive. Don’t get mad, get even, and I would.
The spy walked across the yard toward us, his hood still pulled forward hiding his features. I wanted to see, damn him. I wanted to see him so I would know who I was going to kill, because kill him I would, no doubt at all.
He stood in front of Vaybian looking down for a few moments, but then passed him by to stand over Pyrites. My drakon had stopped growing at the size of a baby elephant. Whether or not being shot had something to do with it I had no idea, but he didn’t look good. His flank shuddered with every breath and his eyes were closed. I was very much afraid I might be losing him. I couldn’t understand it: Jamie had told me drakons were virtually indestructible and that their only vulnerability was the soft scales beneath their chin.
“I am so looking forward to this,” the spy, assassin—murdering scumbag—said as he reached up with dark red scarred hands to pull back his hood. “How lovely to see you again, Lucky de Salle,” Henri le Dent said.
I just about managed to bite back a gasp, though it was hard. I knew Henri had been burned by Pyrites, but I hadn’t realized how bad it had been. The right side of his face was a shiny, dark pink expanse of scar tissue matching his right hand. His right shoulder looked odd beneath his robe and I guessed it hadn’t fared too well either beneath Pyrites’ fiery breath.
He stood above Pyrites looking down with a distorted smile upon his misshapen lips; the right side frozen in a rigor grimace while the left curled into a manic joker grin. “I am going to enjoy this so very much, just as I am going to enjoy watching you being slowly taken apart piece by piece,” he said, and with that he pulled a sword out from within his robes.
He looked up at me and licked his ruined lips. “Say goodbye to your drakon Lucky,” he said, and gave Pyrites’ head a nudge with his boot, exposing his vulnerable throat.
“You touch him you bastard and I’ll—”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll kill you.”
He gave me another distorted, revolting grin. “You tried; you failed. It’s my turn now, and I will not fail.” He gripped the sword between both hands and lifted it up above Pyrites’ neck.
