Clarissa, almost too quiet to hear, said, “I can see them.”
Trying to match her tone, I said, “Don’t lose sight of them, no matter what.”
The vampire moved a little faster. Her vampiric eyes enabled her to cut the distance by six or seven dozen steps and yet still feel comfortable that our human swindlers could not see us even under the best light the cesspool slits offered. Gods, I hope they were human. I would have to ask Clarissa later whether vampires could smell other vampires. All the same, making sure we did not alert anyone with sound remained our primary aim.
Every couple of minutes had Clarissa stopping to crouch for a few moments, compelling me to mimic her. I assumed this was due to our quarries’ own precaution against pursuers.
I hated waiting. All I thought about when we stayed still was how worried and livid the boys would get if they entered our room to see us and their most precious belongings gone. Regardless, I had a hard time imagining Ghevont and Mercer with uninhibited emotions on their faces, and attempting to do so either brought a chuckle or a hideous reminder of Mercer’s corrupted face. These unbalanced thoughts left me as soon as I revived the movement in my legs.
Clarissa eventually led us to a forked path. She had to choose the one with the tight fit. I kept the sword up against my body so that no part of it accidentally struck the wall and revealed us. The tightness lasted a few yards before it widened a few inches. Noise traveled with greater volume in this snugger space, something made more obvious as the tricksters spoke more often with each other. Snippets of sentences even reached us, with the louder ones from the girl often followed by a call for silence.
The occasional slits to the surface stopped appearing altogether. I had to stick close to Clarissa’s back so I could be confident enough not to lead myself astray in such absolute darkness. Contrary to my common sense, the absence of air-circulating slits also coincided with a lessening of the stench. Or perhaps my nose was getting accustomed to the disagreeable atmosphere? I was gagging less.
Shortly after Clarissa stopped again, someone tapped on the stone wall. Intrigued, I urged Clarissa to get closer. That almost became our undoing. A sharp beam of light nearly illuminated us, persuading us to retreat a few feet. The beam coming from an eye level slot on the wall did expose the alleged Master Modestus and his daughter.
“Is Rayburn in yet?” asked the father to the firelight.
“Aye,” responded the light. “Just returned not five moments ago. Got a good haul.”
“Yay!” said Miksa. “Little brother did good!”
“Hush, child,” said the father without a trace of remonstration.
Backing up turned out to be a good idea. More light flooded the tunnel when a door-sized piece of the wall opened as such. The duo hastily crossed into the opening before it shut closed, snuffing out all light again.
“Good,” said Clarissa. “Now we know where they are. Let’s go back and get the others.”
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“We still might lose them. I once read that thieves own many hideouts and survive by constantly moving themselves and their looted goods between them. They might move our possessions by the time we return with the others. We can’t take that chance.”
“But we’ll surely be outnumbered.”
“We’re attempting to find nismerdon and their Advent supporters and you’re worried about a few thieves?”
“A little, yes. It just takes one arrow or dagger to end it all, whether that comes from a thief or Advent matters little.”
“A valid point, but I have a lot of confidence in the both of us.”
“I have less,” muttered Aranath.
“Well, do you at least have a plan?” asked Clarissa.
“Sort of. Hold on, give me a moment… Okay, yes, yes, I have something. Follow my lead.” As I took point, I said, “Start giggling and speaking nonsense when we get near the entrance.”
“What?”
“We need to sound silly and naive, and don’t say anything, dragon.”
“As long as you’re aware,” he stated.
I took the hesitant vampire’s hand and steered her forward, our steps now unconcerned with staying silent. I also prompted the chorus of nonsensical giggling.
As she tittered, she said, “Gods, what are we doing, Garnet!? We sound stupendously mad!”
“Start calling Rayburn’s name. Like this—Oh, Rayburn! Rayburn, darling! Come out, come out wherever you are!”
“Uhh, yes, come out, dearest Rayburn!?”
“It’s so dark, Rayburn. Come out and help us!”
On getting near where I believed the orange light had originated, I stopped and tapped the scabbard on the walls, doing my best to make a confrontational clamor. My efforts were rewarded when a slot of light almost blinded me.
“Rayburn? Is that you?”
“Who the fuck are you?” asked the vexed light. “How did you get here?”
“Duh, we’re Rayburn’s girls! Oh, he must have mentioned us! He told us we could join his group if we got him something nice, and look what we got!” I rose the sword’s hilt to the light and unsheathed it a few inches. “Isn’t it neat and shiny? We plucked it off a sleeping bodyguard for some highborn fatty!”
“Aww, he was still cute,” said Clarissa, getting into the act.
The light grumbled before his repressed shout said, “Someone get Rayburn’s ass here now!” More light met us as the door opened. An expectedly brawny, bearded man carrying a mace blocked part of the light that came from a single torch. “Both of you get in here and keep quiet!” As we entered an arched hall ten feet long, he moved to close the door and keep his large body between us and an easy escape. His hand then reached out for Mercer’s blade. “Hand me the sword.”
I recoiled from the dirty hand while hugging the sword. “No, only Rayburn gets it.”
His deep-set eyes of chocolate studied me with flared annoyance and a shade of curiosity. The scrutiny ended when he heard incoming footsteps. We all looked out into the larger room beyond to watch as a gruff, middle-aged man with eyes too far up his forehead escorted a black haired youth with a bony frame. The young man I assumed to be Rayburn only needed a little more meat on his limbs and dapper face to bring out the true potential of his smile and physique.
“What’s going on, Cael?” asked Rayburn.
“These girls say you told ‘em about this fucking place!”
Rayburn’s eyes squinted as he came closer. “What are you talkin’ about? I don’t tell-” At the precipice of entering the archway, he stopped walking and his eyes widened.
Knowing he somehow recognized us, I spun around and cast my ward. I shoved it as hard as I could onto the bigger man’s body, slamming his head and body onto the door. “Get Rayburn!”
Two ropes of water sprang out of the air. They flung at Rayburn as I unsheathed the sword. Cael tried to knock the weapon away, but his head was still dazed from the blow and failed to keep the edge of the blade’s tip from resting against his neck. A little blood leaked out on that spot.
“Drop your weapon,” I demanded. “Or would you rather your head drop?” More blood seeped out as I pressed the sword a bit firmer.
His stern, defiant expression implied he wasn’t going to listen, but a clank of metal hitting the floor told me otherwise. I kicked the mace away and used the blade to insist he get on his knees.
On her end, one of Clarissa’s tendrils grasped Rayburn’s legs, who had turned around to run. He stumbled and she pulled him in. The gruffer fellow rose his axe to break the hold, but Clarissa’s second water whip whacked his chest before he could do more than take aim. He yelled out for help as the vampire used her first whip to reel in her catch. Rayburn flopped like a fish being dragged over land, but Clarissa’s whip only spread further over his leg. Water then turned to ice to inhibit the thrashing.
A bedraggled woman with a compact bow dropped down from a squat ledge at the end of the room. The
long-haired, caramel skinned woman nocked an arrow and aimed for Clarissa. The released arrow bounced off my cast shield. With my ward still protecting us, Clarissa was free to focus on shackling Rayburn’s legs and arms in ice. She soon had him pinned. Every time Cael made any kind of movement, I reminded him that half my attention stayed on him by lifting his chin with the sword’s point.
“Everyone calm down!” I shouted. “No one has to get hurt!”
The axe wielder, ignoring me, stepped up to my ward and prepared to swing his weapon. However, Miksa yelling out, “Little brother!” interrupted his attack. The woman nocked another arrow, but she dropped her bow to prevent the girl from running toward us. My transparent ward also enabled me to see Master Modestus making himself known.
Arms raised over his head, Miksa’s father said, “Everyone quiet down! It appears our guests have two upper hands. Let’s listen to what they have to say before we do anything rash.”
Taking a deep breath, I said, “We only want our belongings, Master Modestus. Once they’ve been returned, we’ll leave. I have no interest in exposing you to the guards.”
“Let little brother go!” commanded Miksa.
The woman, whose curly black hair reached her hips, shushed her.
“What assurance is there that guardsmen will not barge in minutes after you leave, Madam Garnet? That you do not spread our descriptions everywhere?”
“You only have the word of someone who hasn’t killed your men. Expending the energy and increasing the risk to keep them alive should prove that their deaths are not my goal. I know giving you up to the guards puts unnecessary blood on my hands if they capture you, blood I could take now if I so wished. All I want is our belongings. In fact, you can even keep a few gold standards as a sign of goodwill. Tricking us merits a little recompense.”
Master Modestus evaluated the situation a moment longer before saying, “It’s nigh unheard of for our wealthier marks to come after us themselves, particularly young women. Of course, most don’t realize they’ve been robbed until well after we’re gone. Did you follow me here? Or did one of your possessions leave a trail?”
“Procrastinating won’t work. Trust me when I say that we each train hours at a time against spells not witnessed in generations. Our endurance will hold longer than a hundred more of your questions.”
Half his mouth grinned. “I see. It seems I am out of my depth. Erick, get my son’s latest haul for me.” The man with the axe sighed and backed away to follow the order. “Now then, I don’t like my men cold and with a blade to their throat. Will you release them? You have my word they will not retaliate. Isn’t that right, boys?”
A begrudged Cael said, “Aye.”
Rayburn’s chatting teeth muttered, “That-t’s r-right.”
“I’ll release them as soon as I see our possessions,” I said.
“Very well. May I ask who you young ladies are? All I can gather is that you are not from the Glims.”
“We are of the Warriors Guild. We’ve been hired to seek and destroy the Advent, something the staff you stole will aid us in.”
“The Advent? You believe they’re here?”
“No. This is only a quick sojourn. We leave as soon as tomorrow morning.”
“And the Warriors Guild supplied you with enough gold to stay at The Chance Inn? Not to mention the gold pieces my son found.”
“Not the Warriors Guild,” said Clarissa, “but a generous benefactor with personal stakes in the mission kindly provided us funds for our long journey. So it’s a little annoying when tired people with sensitive noses and bare feet have to come down a sewer just because thieves too lazy to earn an honest day’s work stole-”
“Clarissa! It’s fine. We were fooled. Let’s just be glad we did not lose everything. With any luck, we might yet put everything back without anyone being the wiser.”
“They’ll be wise to the smell.”
Erick returned carrying the staff, scabbard, and a makeshift rag-pouch that held my coin.
Seeing this, I removed Aranath from Cael’s neck and said, “You’re free to go. Clarissa, please unfreeze Rayburn.”
I dispelled my ward as Cael and Rayburn stood up and left to join their comrades. Miksa wriggled out of the woman’s arms to hug the cold, wet legs of her “little brother.” Taking my offer of goodwill, Master Modestus pried five gold standards for himself before handing the crude pouch to his subordinate. Erick then walked up to Clarissa and gave her the items as I watched for any sudden or unnatural movement.
With the exchange completed, I said, “Thank you for being prudent, Master Modestus.”
“Only the best thieves survive by being so.”
“Even so, I recommend finding more honest work for the sake of your children, yourself, and your men. I’m aware I can only sound patronizing to one of your experience, but the fact remains that less forgiving people could someday discover this place or catch one of your charming children in the illicit act.”
“The advice is appreciated, Madam Garnet, but I fear past mistakes have already condemned me, and my family have stubbornly followed me in my exile.”
“I see. Then all I can do is hope you deserve Enir’s luck.”
“May we never meet again,” said Clarissa. “At least not down here.”
I gave a quick bow, sheathed Aranath, and left for the revulsions of the tunnel.
Not wanting to get turned around, I told Clarissa to take the same paths we had taken to get here. This meant staying in the sewers longer than we liked, but with a lighter burden afflicting our minds, the excursion to the surface felt quicker.
On attaining a groundhog-like emergence, Clarissa asked, “Let’s say we actually get away with bringing everything back before the boys notice, how do we explain away our stink?”
“We’ll say a very big rat defecated in our room.”
“Better yet, two very big rats. Now, what’s our serious answer?”
“I suppose we pay the inn servants to have our clothes washed as quickly as possible as we bathe. Hopefully they finish before anyone returns to the room. Even if they don’t finish in time, I doubt the boys will really question why we sent our clothes to be cleaned.”
“True, true. Gods, what about Aranath? Is he gonna rat us out?”
“What say you, Aranath? Can you promise to keep silent if the situation permits?”
“Unlikely.”
“But we’ve learned our lesson! And we will never stop feeling terrible about this night. Can you at least wait until time allows us to have a good laugh about it?”
“I’d rather wait to see if there’s even a chance for this night to remain a secret. I’ll keep you in suspense until then.”
“Ugh, are you being vindictive on purpose?”
“A feasible notion.”
“What’s he saying?” asked Clarissa.
“He first wants to wait and see if we can even get away with it.”
“What kind of stance is that?!”
“He wants to punish us any way he can.”
“Would he rather we have lost the staff?”
“Settle down. Aranath is an exceptionally wise, fetching creature whose good side we need to stay on.”
In an effort to get Aranath to understand how we were made fools of, I explained our side of the story. I admitted that one of us should have been more aware of our possessions and insisted the mistake would never occur again. The dragon stayed reticent on whether he would keep reticent about our outing. I hoped he wasn’t simply being petty.
We rushed from building to building, street to street, always stopping behind a corner to peek out and watch out for patrolling guards. When we had to cross open spaces, we tried being as inconspicuous as possible. Clarissa tucked Gerard’s sword under her cloak while I had Aranath dangling between my waist and thin dagger belt. The staff could not be hidden, so I kept it in hand and hoped it passed as a walking stick for my “twisted” ankle. Being unimposing young women also worked in our favor.<
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Except for a pair of guardsmen on horses, nothing forced us to stop for longer than a few moments. Seeing a glimpse of The Chance Inn’s reddish clay roof, western wall, and roundish windows exposed a layer of relief that had been smothered under a mudslide of anxiety. More relief became exposed to the free air as we ran down the wall to get to the inn’s entrance. The coiled bed sheet of linen still drooped down the window.
I had never felt so nervous about disappointing someone since my twelve-year-old self tried casting my family shield for the first time in front of my parents. One of the happiest days of my life came when I cast a murky ward the size of a dinner plate with my proud, teary eyed mother looking on.
I was almost too lost in thought to notice Clarissa had stopped running. I barely avoided running into her.
“Damn it,” whispered the vampire, backing away from the inn’s front corner.
“What are you damning?”
“Mercer is standing right there. Listen, you can hear him talking to someone.”
“Gods, is he talking about us?”
“…I don’t think so. Something about hearts. What do we do?”
With muted excitement, I said, “The window!” We scrambled back to get under Master Modestus’ second story window. I cast my shield parallel to the ground. “Hurry! Jump on!”
The vampire did so. I cast a second ward for her to climb up to. She reached the window on her own after that. She looked back down at me. Her big, alarmed eyes and gaping mouth obliged me to turn around.
An eyebrow raised, Mercer stared up at Clarissa for a second before settling his eyes on mine. I wanted to gag again. He must have been putting the pieces together, for he stayed silent for a long while. Or maybe he was waiting to hear what I had to say.
Well, I had nothing to say. All I thought about was my heart racing and my memory going back to the times I waited my parents to chastise me for a disobedient act. A teensy part of me also wanted to see just how Mercer expressed his anger. I’ve experienced moments of his understated irritation, but true ire remained a mystery to me.
The Dragon Knight's Soul Page 18
