“Why are you doing this? Will you not negotiate? Please, Royal Melegal.” Palzor tried to scoot his chair away, but the mintaurs held him fast. “I’m no good to you dead.”
“I don’t want you dead; I just don’t want you alive.”
“I don’t understand.”
The caterpillars moved slowly over the table toward one of Palzor’s severed fingers.
Melegal watched Palzor’s eyes drift from the flesh eaters to himself. “In my experience, a figure such as yourself can only cause trouble for me.”
Palzor started to speak.
Melegal cut him off again. “I don’t think of myself as a killer. Murder is a dirty business.” He cleared his throat. “But I think there is some key information that you are withholding from me.” He scooted the amputated finger toward the flesh-eating caterpillars.
Their tiny teeth dug into it, little chunks at a time. Their black antennae sprang up. They started to enlarge.
“The bigger the bug, the bigger the bite.”
A lump went up and down Palzor’s throat. “I’ve no idea what you want,” he whined. “You ask questions. I answer. You ask more questions.” Sweat dripped off his nose. “I’ve answered them all.”
“You haven’t answered the questions I haven’t asked, though, have you?”
“How would I do that? I cannot read your mind!”
“Tut-tut, don’t be coarse with me.” Melegal dragged a chair over and sat down. “Let’s try this, Palzor. If you were interrogating me, what would you ask me? That’s what I want to know.” Using his dagger, he scooped up one insect on the blade and brought it toward Palzor’s enlarging eye. “Now ask me, before I drop him in your trousers.”
Palzor’s lip trembled.
“So there is something,” Melegal said. “Don’t hold back, Palzor. Not when you are so very close to dying.”
“All right,” Palzor said. “There is a depot beneath the city. It’s the heart of everything.”
“Tell me how to get there,” Melegal said. The caterpillar on his blade reared up in Palzor’s face.
The City of Three’s dethroned King of the Thieves blathered every last detail. Where the underlings were clustered. Key Royals who were in on it.
The hive of the fiends was even deeper than Melegal had imagined. He dropped the caterpillars into the jar and placed the lid back on.
Palzor shook his head. “All of this because you want the underlings? Why?”
“You’re too blinded by greed to understand.”
“All thieves are greedy.”
“But this greedy thief wants to live.”
“Boss,” Zurth said to Melegal. “You might want to take a look.”
Melegal made his way over to the small window. Cloaked and stealthy, several figures were closing in. A creaking came from the roof above. Footsteps. Slat.
A shadow crossed over a moonlit window above the rafters. There was stillness in the air.
Palzor started to chuckle. “Your time has run out, Melegal.” He twisted his head around. “My forces have figured it out.”
“Everyone for himself,” Melegal said. “You’ve already been paid. Now go.”
“Any moment,” Palzor continued to laugh. He stopped and glared at Melegal. “You will be repaid!”
Glass shattered above. The warehouse door buckled. A swarm of stealthy raiders poured inside.
“Ha ha ha!” Palzor continued, “I’m going to make you swallow those flesh eaters and watch them eat you from the inside out. Ha ha ha ha—urk!”
Melegal jammed his dagger through Palzor’s chest. “I don’t leave loose ends. I leave dead ones.” He stared into Palzor’s dying eyes. “Royal Game over.” He scanned the warehouse and doused the lamp. Catch me if you can, amateurs! He sprinted through the darkness.
Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip!
A bolt ripped through his leg, and down he went.
Argh!
Chapter 29
Fogle sat on the sofa, twiddling his thumbs and watching the tears run down Kam’s cheeks as she stared out the window. Venir had been gone an hour, but he still felt the man’s threat.
“Who does he think he is, telling me who can and cannot be in my room?”
Fogle could have made a case on Venir’s behalf. After all, Venir was Erin’s father, and he did seem sincere in his care for her. For both of them. But Fogle held back. Let it be her decision.
“He shows up. He leaves. He shows up. He leaves.”
She laid Erin down and muttered a spell. A gentle sway rocked the bassinette, and soft music could be heard. Kam walked over to the couch and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”
“Into what?” Fogle said. “You can be angry and upset if you want. Not that I understand how you feel, but there has been a lifetime’s worth of surprises of late.” He wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. “You’re entitled.”
She nodded. “You are a reasonable man, Fogle. You don’t try to be too clever with your words.” She sniffled. “I like it.”
Neither of them said a word for a while, leaving only the soft music of Erin’s crib in the background. A pot of coffee brewed on the stove, and all the tension that was in the room began to fade into something else.
“He comes back here in pieces,” Kam started. “He’s two steps from death, then comes in here to cuddle as if nothing happened. I can’t take that. I don’t like caring for these men who are so ready to die. I hate it.”
Fogle remained still. This is a twist.
“Am I supposed to sew him up and rescue him? Who’s going to rescue me from him? He’s a disaster.”
I’ll rescue you.
“Fogle, I don’t want to come between you and him. I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Fogle said. It stirred him. Venir, strapping and rugged as may be, wasn’t a match for a well-placed spell that would rock him on his heels or turn his mind into pillow feathers. Fogle was ready for Venir. It surprised him, but he was. A flick of the tongue, and Venir could be blasted through the door. Or his thoughts turned to mud. “I don’t think he’d do that.”
“He did before.”
“True, but that was a time ago. I’m, well …” He caught a flicker of disappointment in Kam’s eyes. “…wiser now.”
Her eyes softened, and she patted his leg. “Yes, yes you are wise. And I’m thankful.” She pressed her warm body into his and hugged him tight. His lips found her neck, and she straddled him.
So am I.
Brak’s eyes were wide.
“You can do it, Son,” Venir said.
Grasping the rail, Brak dragged one foot across the floor and down onto the next step.
Venir remained by his side, hands steadying his waist. “There’s no hurry.”
Sweat dripped down Brak’s face. One leg was numb, the other weak, but at least he was moving. Jaw clamped, he slipped down another step. Swayed. The railing groaned.
Venir steadied his waist.
“I can do it,” Brak said. He swallowed, took a breath, and took another step.
“Good,” Venir said. “You can smell Joline’s stew, can’t you? It’s motivating.”
“Yes,” Brak said, straining to take another step. That wasn’t all he smelled, either. There was blood in the air. Blood on the floor. Busted-up tables and broken chairs burning inside the mantels. There were eyes on him: Joline, Jubilee, and Jasper’s eyes. He took another step, and another. Excitement filled him. He went faster, slipped, and sprawled out on the stairs. He slid until his head almost hit the bottom. He glared up at Venir.
“You said you had it,” Venir said, smiling. He stretched out his hand. “And you almost did until you caught the
ladies’ eyes. You have to be careful, Son. Nothing can trip a man up faster than a woman.”
Brak took his hands, and Venir heaved him up to his feet. “Or a hungry belly,” Brak offered with a smile.
Venir laughed and got him over to a table and sat him down.
Jubilee was the first one over there. She reached up and rubbed his shoulder. “You’ve had another growth spurt,” she said, laughing. “If you get any bigger, we’re going to have to plant you outside.” She glanced at Venir. “And you aren’t dead. Amazing.”
Joline set two large, steaming bowls of stew in front of them.
Brak could see large chunks of meat, potatoes, and black rice in it.
“It’s good to see the both of you on the mend,” Joline said. “Enjoy that. Good things are getting harder to come by.” She kissed them both on the cheek. “I don’t know what to make of the world these days, but its good having the both of you with us. I miss Billip and the others already.” Frowning, she made her way back into the kitchen.
Brak dug in and so did Venir.
“That’s more stew for us, the way I see it,” Brak said.
“Brak!” Jubilee said, slapping him on the shoulder.
He shrugged and eyed his father.
Venir chewed slowly. His eyes were elsewhere. They had been infernos when he came into the room earlier.
“I’m looking forward to swinging some steel again, if you have the time,” Brak said.
Venir blinked. “Huh … ah, certainly. Get your gut filled, and we’ll take a stroll into the courtyard. We’ll see what you have in you.”
Brak nodded. After years of wondering who his father was and then months venturing with him, he finally felt comfortable speaking with him. But Venir still intimidated him. The man was a brawny piece of scarred iron. A furnace always burned behind his eyes. He’d seen his father’s glare shake a man more than once. He didn’t like being on the wrong end of that, either.
“I want to learn too,” Jubilee said.
“Do you have a sword?” Venir said.
“No, but I’m sure I can get one.” Jubilee sat down.
Jasper’s lither form crossed its arms over dark robes and sat next to Jubilee. Her black hair was short and her make-up dark and intriguing.
Brak found her odd but interesting.
She addressed his father. “Are you going to look for your friend?”
“And which friend might that be?” Venir said. “I have so many.”
“Melegal.”
“As I understand it, he’s out of harm’s way. Why?”
“I want to go with you.” She drew her legs up on the seat and folded her arms around them. “I’m ready to get out of this place.”
“Perhaps,” Venir said, taking another bite. “This might be even better with some ale.” His eyes drifted toward the balcony. “I’ve had my fill of coffee.”
“Are you jealous because Kam likes Fogle now?” Jubilee said.
“Mind your business, Jubilee!” Brak said.
“How do you know she likes Fogle?” Venir said, leaning forward.
“Just that way she looks at him.” Jubilee pulled her shoulders back. “I know, I’m a woman.”
“You’re a girl,” Brak said. “A small one with a mouth too big, at that.”
“Well, I’m right, aren’t I, Jasper?”
Jasper shrugged.
“Are you going to pummel him?” Jubilee continued. “I would. I mean …”
Venir’s face darkened.
Jubilee swallowed her tongue. “I think I’m going to help Joline out,” she said, sliding out of her chair and backing away. “She always needs help.”
That was when a man appeared, right behind Joline.
She passed right through him. “Eek!” And stumbled down.
Venir sprang to his feet, leapt the table, and swung his long knife straight through the apparition.
“There is no need for that,” the man said. He wore a neatly cut set of black robes trimmed in gold lace. His hands were hidden by the drooping cuffs of his sleeves. He was balding, with a crown of black hair, medium in height and build, and fit, with alert and inspecting eyes. “I’m not here to hurt anyone, just investigate. I’m an envoy of the Order.”
Jasper turned her face and shrank in her chair.
“What order?” Venir said.
Jubilee cowered behind him.
Brak sat mute.
The envoy didn’t say a word. Instead, he traipsed through the tavern, studying the blood on the floor and the busted furniture that burned and crackled.
Brak was amazed that he could see right through him.
The envoy turned to Venir. “You look like you’ve been in a nasty scruff. Care to explain your condition?”
“Bish happens. It’s a dangerous world.”
“We are missing some colleagues,” the envoy said. “As we understand it, they paid a visit here.”
“Maybe the underlings got them,” Venir said, sneering. “They’ve taken plenty of others.”
“Unlikely,” the envoy said. “Don’t go anywhere until the Order returns.” He smiled at all of them, gave a curt nod, and slowly vanished. “And that’s an order.”
“What was that?” Brak said.
Jasper mumbled in her chair. “That’s the end of us all. The Towers! They’re going to put us through an inquisition.”
“A what?” Brak said.
“They’re going to strap us down and turn our grey matter inside out.” She kicked a chair. “Blast! I knew I should have left. This place is cursed.”
Chapter 30
Melegal flattened himself on the floor and whisked a blade out. A bolt jutted from the meat and skin of his thigh muscle. His stomach became queasy. In the darkness, silhouettes darted through the warehouse.
Slat! Slat! Slat!
Running was impossible and hopping was suicide.
He knew it was beyond his hat to freeze time on individuals scattered about the whole place. Maybe once they had him at close quarters…
Capture. Torture. Mutilation. Better than dying? Let’s hope.
The clamor of battle rocked the confines of the warehouse. Men screamed. Metal clashed on metal. Two figures closed in on Melegal with crossbows lowered at his chest. They were covered head to toe in dark garb and blended in well with the darkness.
“Don’t move,” one said. His voice was raspy and sure.
Clop, clop clop clop, clop! Hooves scuffled over the floor.
The assailant turned and fired. The bolt zinged off a mintaur’s curved horns.
The beast plowed over the man. Clop clop stomp! Bone gave way to hoof.
Clop clop clop wham! The second mintaur rammed into the back of the other assailant. Thick, dark bodies pounded Palzor’s rogues with hooves and club-like weapons.
Can never have enough of those guys.
Biting his lip, Melegal crawled toward the exit. His keen ears accounted for twenty men in the warehouse, scrapping it out. Zurth and the half orc whose name he didn’t recall seemed capable brawlers, but that was it. The mintaurs were the same. They’d hold up a minute maybe, but well-trained cutthroats would eventually cut them down in the blackness.
A figure jumped from a huge shelf and landed in front of Melegal.
He stabbed the man in the thigh.
The man screamed and drove his sword down.
He rolled into the man’s feet. Steel sparked off stone. Melegal drove his dagger into the man’s gut.
The reeling man, solidly built, crumpled on top of him.
He felt warm blood on his clothes and face. Bone! He shoved the man off, redoubled his efforts, and scooted for the door.
Zurth, the strapping guard o
f Palzor he had spared, battled hard nearby. Fending off three men with wide slashes left to right, he stood his ground.
Melegal heard the string of a crossbow crank back. Looking up, he saw the crossbowman on a top shelf, taking aim at Zurth. He took aim and fired his dart launcher.
Twing!
The crossbowman jerked and shot.
The bolt skewered another rogue’s back.
The crossbowman plucked the dart from his face. Eyes searching and then locking on Melegal, he jumped off the shelf and ran right at him, drawing his sword.
Foolish man …
Melegal caught the white of the man’s eye.
Twing!
The man cried out, screamed in rage, “Eyyaaaagghhhh!” and kept heading right at him.
Didn’t see that coming!
“I’ll kill you!” the man said. Sword arcing, he jumped up and came down on top of Melegal.
Melegal’s hands lashed out around the man’s wrists, halting the blade.
The man drove a knee into Melegal’s ribs, dropped his sword, jerked an arm free, and punched him in the face.
Melegal swung his dagger at the man’s gut.
The man pinned down Melegal’s hand and wrenched the blade free. The man was strong and had fifty pounds on Melegal. His fists came down with fury.
Whap! Whap! Whap!
The man had Melegal pinned down. The punches hurt, but the bolt digging into his thigh was excruciating. All he could do was slap the man’s heavy-handed blows aside.
“You’re a dead man! I’m going to take both your eyes out!”
Half stunned, Melegal fought back with all his strength. He wasn’t used to melee. Not this kind. Jeb the brawler flashed in his mind, back in the Octopus. It made him mad. He swatted the next series of punches away, sat up, and jammed the dart back into the man’s eye as far as he could.
The Darkslayer: Series 2, Box Set #1, Books 1 - 3 (Bish and Bone) Page 42
