by Claire Frank
“Just find the kid.”
The girl in the first room stuck her head out of the doorway. She spoke, her tone panicky, and Rhis looked up. “Did you see a boy? Taller than you, dark hair, silver eyes?”
Tears trailed down the girl’s cheeks as she shook her head, her hands clinging to the door jamb.
“You should get out, sweetie,” Rickson said over his shoulder. “The building’s on fire.”
Rhis dashed to the next door as the girl squeaked out an unintelligible reply. The smoke grew thicker, coating the ceiling in a suffocating cloud of gray, burning Rhis’s throat and making her eyes water. The key slipped into the door as footsteps pounded down the hallway. Rhis turned the key, pushed the door open, and slipped inside as several guards rushed by.
“What happened here?” one said as they ran past.
“Smoke?” another answered, a half question, half answer.
“Should we get the subjects out?”
A moment’s pause and Rhis put her face near the door, crouching low to get out of the worst of the smoke. She wondered where Rickson was.
“No. Let’s take care of that fire first. It won’t spread this far.”
Their footsteps faded as the guards turned a corner, the sound of their boots quickly disappearing.
“Rhis?”
She whirled around to find Asher sitting on the bed, his eyes wide. With a sharp exhale, she blinked against the acrid smoke and rushed over to grab his arm.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Pulling the boy into the hallway, Rhis found Rickson fiddling with another lock; two more children stood nearby, huddled together with their shirts pulled up over their mouths and noses.
“Got him,” Rhis said and Rickson turned.
“Thank the gods. The entire Gray Cloak wing must be blazing.”
“This way,” Rhis said and took hurried steps in the other direction, away from the fire.
“Wait,” Rickson said and Rhis turned. “What about them?” He nodded to the three kids.
“What about them?”
“We can’t just leave them in here,” Rickson said. “This whole place could burn down and those guards weren’t going to get them out.”
Rhis darted her eyes up to the smoky ceiling and shook her head. “Fine. Get them outside.”
“Come on, kids,” Rickson said behind her, as she dragged Asher along the corridor. The bloody man was going to get them all killed with a bunch of kids trailing after them.
Rhis led them down the hall, guessing at the direction that would lead to an outside entrance. Her gut told her to turn as a hallway branched off, and the air cleared as they ran. Rickson’s voice, urging the children along, came from behind, and she kept her grip tight on Asher’s wrist, despite his protests.
Another guard appeared in their path and he stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowed. Rhis reached for a blade but Rickson’s voice stopped her.
“Fire in the Gray Cloak wing,” he said, his voice booming with fabricated authority. “We’ll get these subjects out to safety. You go help fight the blaze before the whole building goes up in flames.”
The man hesitated, looking Rhis up and down.
“Go,” Rickson said and Rhis ran past the guard, hurrying Asher along behind. She glanced back to find the guard running in the opposite direction and Rickson herding the children along in front of him.
Rhis’s instincts proved trustworthy, and they emerged into a wide foyer with a set of double doors. Two guards stood on the far side, straightening as Rhis and Asher made for the doors.
“Hey!”
“There’s a fire,” Rickson said. “We’ll get these ones outside and hold them there until it’s safe to come back in.”
Rhis didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. She burst through the doors and the cold air blasted her as she pulled Asher along, her only thought to get clear before the guards decided to follow. Risking a look behind, she saw Rickson standing with the children near the front doors, bending low to speak to them. He’d better get himself out of there quick, or Rhis was going to have to find another ride.
As they crossed the road, Rhis led them into the alley where she and Rickson had watched. Moving Asher behind her, Rhis turned and squinted her eyes against the darkness. A blazing light emanated from the side of the Guild House, and black smoke billowed into the night sky. The cloud of it blotted out the stars, and faint voices could be heard as the guards tried to fight the blaze. The other children stood clutching at each other and looking around as Rickson dashed away. He crossed the street and ducked into the alley.
“I feel bad, leaving them behind,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.
“We didn’t come for them,” Rhis said. “We need to get out of here before someone follows.”
Rickson let out a low chuckle. “That actually worked.”
“There’s something wrong with you,” Rhis said. “You sound like you enjoyed that.”
Rickson laughed again, and Rhis thought she caught a wink in the dim light. “My crew’s on standby. Let’s get to the ship. After this mess, you’re coming to Raltair Island with me.”
Rhis turned back to the boy and grabbed his wrist again.
“How did you find me?” Asher asked.
“Questions later,” Rhis said as she yanked him along, hurrying down the alley with Rickson leading the way.
FIFTEEN: ATHON
Athon took his time, wandering up the street as if he had nowhere important to be. It had been a long time since he’d been to Altia, and he enjoyed the warm breeze coming off the harbor. On the surface, it was a beautiful city. Unfortunately, he knew the sort of filth that lurked in the shadows of this and every city. He was only one man, but he did what he could to clean it up.
With a casual glance up and down the street, he pushed open the spicery door. The scent was thick and the air uncomfortably warm. A woman in a flowing dress looked up from behind a counter filled with small baskets and pouches.
“Would you like some lavender?” she asked. “Newly dried and fragrant.”
Athon shook his head. “Garlic and ghost pepper.”
“Of course. This way.” She led him to the back of the shop and pulled a small key from around her neck. After unlocking the door, she held it open and nodded him through.
Athon descended the stairs, past hanging garlic bulbs and something spicy that burned his nostrils. At the bottom, he moved aside a gaudy curtain to reveal a stuffy office. Stepping inside, he let the curtain fall behind him and crossed his arms.
The man behind the desk stared for a long moment, his mouth slightly open. “Well, well, well,” he said, finally. “You do exist. Athon, I presume?”
Athon raised an eyebrow. “The same. You’ve heard of me.”
“Of course I have,” he said. “Your reputation precedes you. Please, sit.”
“And you are?” Athon asked, lowering himself into a chair.
“Cormant,” the man said, leaning over the desk and narrowing his eyes. “I’ve heard stories, but I have to admit, I didn’t think it was real.”
“This?” Athon asked, holding up his arm. It was made of a series of overlapping metal disks, fitted together in precise order. Flexing his metallic fingers, he let them click together as he touched his fingertips to his thumb. Cormant’s eyes widened and Athon bent his elbow, showing the other man the range of motion in his false arm. People the world over thought his limb a marvel. They had no idea how common a contraption it was, where he was from.
“Fascinating,” Cormant said. “Only one?”
Athon held up his right arm, made of flesh and bone. “I only lost the one. This one still suits me.”
Cormant shook his head, smiling. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me where you got such a wondrous device?”
Athon raised an eyebrow again.
“Of course not,” Cormant said, waving his hand as if to bat away his own question. “I’ve been hopi
ng our paths would have reason to cross someday. For the right reasons, that is.” He swallowed hard and tugged at his collar. “I don’t suppose you’re here for me?”
“I’m not currently working, no,” Athon said, wrinkling his nose. The worm of a man reeked of spirits and fear, and the sheen of sweat on his brow made Athon’s skin crawl.
“Ah, excellent,” Cormant said, leaning back in his chair. “One never knows, in this business. Can I offer you a drink? Wine? Something a little stronger?”
“No.”
“Very well, very well,” Cormant said.
“I hear you need someone brought in,” Athon said.
“Yes, that’s quite true,” Cormant said. “I’m pleased that you answered my call. I’ve lost control of an asset who I need to reclaim as soon as possible. The fee—”
“Who is it?” Athon asked.
Cormant’s mouth stayed open for a brief moment before he answered. “That’s an interesting question. I thought first we might discuss payment.”
“No, I need to know who it is and why you need them brought in,” Athon said. Why were these Attalonians always so concerned with the weight of their gold? There was more to his line of work than money.
“All right,” Cormant said, shifting in his seat. “Her name is Rhisia Sen, and she was sent out on a contract several weeks ago.”
“Did she kill her target?” Athon asked.
Cormant’s eye twitched. “I don’t know, but I suspect not.”
“Why?”
“If I knew that, perhaps I wouldn’t need someone like you.”
Athon blinked, keeping his face still as he flexed his mechanical fingers. “You need to tell me who she is, and precisely what happened.”
Cormant sighed. “Have you heard of the Reaper’s Bride?”
Athon nodded. “A killer feared throughout the Empire, married to the art of death?”
“That’s her. The name is fairly theatric, I admit. I’m not sure who came up with it, but it does strike the right tone, doesn’t it? In any case, that’s Rhisia. She’s been one of my top people for years now. This entire business is such a shame.”
“Why did she go rogue?”
“Well,” Cormant said, stretching out the word, “I suspect it had something to do with the secondary contract.”
Athon cocked his head to the side. It was a wonder these people didn’t all kill each other. None of them had a single shred of honor. “Secondary contract. Meaning you sent her to kill someone, then sent another to kill her.”
Cormant winced, glancing away as he nodded. “Yes, I suppose that’s an accurate assessment. There was nothing I could do. My arrangement was quite clear. Once the contract was fulfilled, the associate was to be eliminated.”
“And you failed.”
“I hardly think the failure was mine. She couldn’t have known someone was coming after her, and I sent one of my best. Apparently he didn’t heed my warnings. Rhisia Sen is not an easy mark.”
“Why kill her?” Athon asked. “To avoid paying?”
“Not exactly,” Cormant said. “The client would have no problem with payment, but preferred not to leave any loose ends. I don’t ask too many questions, you understand. I am merely one who brings client and associate together.”
“Why not just send more of your little lackeys after the Sen woman? One of them is bound to stick a knife in her eventually. Why put out a bounty?”
Cormant nodded his head to the side. “To be fair, I have. But the reputation of the Reaper’s Bride isn’t a myth. We almost had her in Sunhold, but she killed two city guards, in the middle of the day, then walked right out of the gate. Once they discovered the bodies, they sent five more to track her down. She killed them too, set traps for them in the forest or some such trickery. She will not be easy to bring down.”
“And so you sent for me.”
“I did, although I have to admit I didn’t expect you would actually come. I’m delighted, of course. The chance to work with someone of your caliber is an honor.”
“I don’t need your flattery. Where is she?”
“Ah, yes, she’s … well, that’s unknown at the moment. I lost track of her somewhere outside Sunhold. She hasn’t been spotted since.”
“Who’s helping her?”
“That’s also unknown,” Cormant said. “Listen, if this was easy, I wouldn’t have sent for you. Rhisia is smart, resourceful, and very deadly. She knows how to blend in, and she’s an excellent liar.”
“How many people has she killed?”
Cormant’s eyebrows drew down and he tilted his head back. “I’m not sure how that’s relevant.”
“How many?”
“I wouldn’t even know,” Cormant said. “Hundreds? She’s been working for me for nearly a decade, and I’ve kept her quite busy.”
Athon stared at Cormant while the other man mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. Such scum. The people he had to work with made him feel as if he needed a bath, but there was no help for it. If justice was to be served, it was up to him. People knew him as a bounty hunter, but he didn’t take just any job. It needed to be worthy of him. He went after the worst of the worst, the murderous filth that stained the world and made it a place of misery.
“The Reaper’s Bride, you say.” Athon touched a metal finger to his mouth. The most notorious assassin in the Empire might just be a cause worthy of his time.
SIXTEEN: PAYMENT
Rhis widened her stance, holding onto the wall for balance as the ship listed. The small cabin had a low bed and a hammock that swung with the motion of the ship. Asher sat on the floor with his back to the wall, his face pale.
“Damn it, boy, why did you leave the room?” Rhis said. Now that they were safely on Rickson’s ship, concern had been quickly replaced by irritation.
“I—” he said, then stopped. He closed his mouth and looked away.
“I told you, very specifically, not to leave that room. What happened?”
He pressed his lips together and moved his jaw as if trying to decide whether to speak. “I saw something on the street,” he said after a moment’s pause.
“Saw what?” Rhis asked. “What could possibly have been so interesting that you had to go running outside, straight into trouble?”
“Those boys were going to hurt her,” he said.
“Boys? What boys? Hurt who?”
“The little girl in the street,” Asher said. He turned his face toward Rhis and looked her in the eye. “I was sitting by the window, watching people walk by. A girl was out there, all by herself, and these two kids came from the other direction. I think they were trying to take her coat. I don’t know why they’d bother. It isn’t like it would fit them. She was so small.”
“You left the room and got yourself caught by the Guild because of some kids trying to take a coat?” Rhis said, aghast.
“No one was helping her,” Asher said. “They weren’t much bigger than me, and I knew I could outrun them if I had to. I did outrun them.”
Rhis crossed her arms and bit her lip to keep from screaming at him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You have no idea how bad that could have been, do you?”
“But I’m not a Wielder,” Asher said. “I’ve passed the tests before. They would have let me go once they knew.”
“Not necessarily,” Rhis said, shaking her head. “Out in Harmoth, maybe, but in a place like Varale? They’d find a reason to keep you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. “I just wanted to help her.”
Rhis pressed her hand to her forehead and counted her heartbeats. Five, six, seven. “Did they question you? What did you tell them?”
“I forgot what my name was supposed to be, so I said Will. They asked me some things about my parents and where I was from. I told them I lived on a farm near Sunhold, but my parents died and my aunt takes care of me now.”
“Did they ask you about me, about your aunt?”
“Only a little. Mo
stly they wanted to know why I was in Varale and where we were going. I told them you were a merchant and you travelled a lot, so we were going to Altia. And I said I’d already been tested, last year. They asked me a lot of questions about the tests the other men made me take and what happened when I took them. I didn’t lie about that, because I thought they’d let me go when they found out I wasn’t what they were looking for.”
“You’re sure you said your name was Will? You never said Asher?”
He shook his head. “No. I never said Asher.”
Rhis let out a breath. “Okay.”
Asher’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”
“I know, kid. But you need to listen to me from now on. I told you to stay in that room to keep you safe.”
“I wanted to help—”
“Well, you shouldn’t have,” Rhis said, her voice sharp. Asher winced and turned away. “I need to go up top and take care of some things. You stay down here for now. I don’t want you on deck until we’re out of sight of Varale. There aren’t any waifs in danger of losing their coats for you to rescue on the ship, so stay put. Understand?”
Asher clenched his jaw and kept his eyes averted, but nodded.
“Good.”
***
The weight of Asher’s stone was heavy in her pocket as Rhis emerged on deck. Her hair blew around her face as the wind buffeted her, and she drew her cloak around her shoulders. She spotted Rickson near the wheel, consulting with two of his crew. He looked up as Rhis approached and nodded to the other sailors.
“Carry on,” he said. He walked over to Rhis. “I think we have some business to attend to.”
She followed him to the stern, where his cabin seemed to stretch across the entire width of the ship. He held open the door and she ducked inside, grateful to get out of the wind. Although it was good to be out of the sweltering stench of Varale, the air on the open water was considerably colder.
Rickson stopped in front of a looking glass to adjust his coat and sweep a hand across his hair. His cabin was decorated with ornate furnishings, a large bed, and thick rugs on the floor. Several wardrobes stood along one side and wide windows let in light.
