by JM Guillen
“Um, bad things, I imagine.”
“Yes.” The Warren’s Spider chuckled softly. “Bad things. But not to you, no.” She paused. “If you have a mother, I will slice the eyes from her sainted face while you watch. If you have a son, I will have him gelded with acid and a red-hot iron. If you have a daughter, I will take her from you and sell her body to men on the streets. I will hire the Judicar’s artistic friend to sketch for you all the manners in which they rape her.” She leaned closer, and I could see Kyle’s eyes grow wider. “You will receive regular posts on the matter.”
“That’s—” I started to step forward, but the assassin looked to me, her eyes furious.
I stood in place.
“You will never know camaraderie or love. For the rest of your days, I will be a plague upon your life. I will take every woman you love, every man who shows you kindness, and I will make them scream. I will skin them, tell them why I have done it, and then tend them with recuperative care, before skinning them again. This I oath to you, by salt and sun and the tainted darkness.” I could see her smile in the shadows. “Do believe me?”
“Yes.” The horror in that one word was like a physical thing.
Lost gods, but I believed her too.
“Go then. Take the lantern your friends left in the passageway and leave.” She straightened. “Trouble me no more.”
Then, the Warren’s Spider turned, walking into the steam-filled darkness. Kyle looked up at me, his eyes wide with panicked terror.
“Coming, Judicar?” Her voice drifted out of the darkness ahead. “If I’m to make certain that you’re safe, we need to move along.”
I nodded once at Kyle, signaling toward Scoundrel as we walked forward. My hands were trembling, and my heart was pounding like thunder in my ears.
The last thing I saw of Kyle Nehlman wasn’t fear; it was pity, pity for the man who had to walk into the darkness with a creature such as her. He looked at me as one might look at a doomed man, sorrowful, yet tinged with selfish relief.
I walked into the shadows after the Warren’s Spider, believing I had a new understanding of fear.
The Remnants
Sundering, Fifth Bell, Dusking
Perhaps it is needless to say that I and the Warren’s Spider had little to discuss as we strode through the darkness.
Once, she glanced at me, giving me a look of pity and disgust as I shone the lucia forward—as if only a child needed a light in the darkness. I scowled but hid it back in my satchel.
If she wanted it, she knew where it was.
So we walked in darkness.
Several times I tried to think of how to start a conversation—any conversation that would not end with her discussing my innards or agonizing pain. After witnessing the fear she had put into poor Kyle, it was difficult to think on anything else.
“Wait.” Her voice was whisper soft. “There’s someone ahead.”
I hadn’t noticed, but she was right. In the gloom, there were two figures, walking across the tunnel, from one side to the other.
Quiet. It was considered factual that the ravens could both see and hear better than a human could, so I had no doubt that Scoundrel saw me. Quiet. Danger.
“More of the Blades.” The Warren’s Spider edged to one side of the passage, nudging me as she did. “I met four of them before you gallantly came along and saved me.”
“Here.” There was a slender passage to our side. I stepped to my right, and she followed, both of us peering into the gloom.
“I’m somewhat surprised.” I kept my tone light. “I can’t imagine that we have anything to fear from them between the two of us.”
She turned to look at me. Even though I could only dimly see her face, I imagined she was irritated.
“I’m not seeking out trouble, Judicar. That’s just foolish.” She looked back out into the passage. “Besides that point, however, some of the Blades are dangerous.”
“More than typically, you mean.” I wondered, offhand, if the Spider knew anything regarding men who could catch on fire at will.
“Yes. More than typically.” Her voice was quiet. “I’ve seen some strange things in the past few days, Thom. It’s best that we keep our hands close.”
We watched for what seemed like a mortal age. Eventually, the men set off down another of the passages. After we were certain they were gone, we slipped back out into the main tunnel.
“How far do these tunnels go?”
“I haven’t memorized the Deepcity, Thom.” Her words were hushed echoes in the dark. “We, however, will not be in them much longer.”
“So you know where we are going.”
“No.” The one word was laced with scorn. “Like a fool, I just wandered into the tunnels with no end plan. That would be quite idiotic, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Um.” I cleared my throat. “Yes. Of course.”
“There is a causeway ahead that branches right. There’s a ladder at the end of it that leads upward into an old access tunnel in the Remnants.” She paused. “Rebeka is being held in a house there.”
I scratched at Scoundrels head as we walked. “If you knew where she was, why come this way? Why not just take a stroll out to the Remnants?”
“Our mutual friend.” She stepped to the right, peering ahead. “I told him I had heard about the tunnels and about the Blade’s access. He asked me to look into it.”
I remembered my conversation with Booker Dox and realized what her source was on that little tidbit.
“Was it only Jakob the Fox?” I followed her as she slipped into a narrow tunnel. “Or did you have another source as well?”
“Well, listen to you, being all clever.” Her tone was a little more than half mocking. “It was in fact the Fox. I can’t quite track how much to trust the man or what he says.” She stopped. “Judicar, that light could be a help.”
I reached into my satchel, pulling the lucia out. Now that we had been slinking along in the darkness, it seemed quite bright.
But even so, it was fading as the alchemy began to wane. I was lucky we were leaving the darkness behind us.
“You were going to stain me with that weak little thing?” She scoffed. “I could have just waited it out.”
“You believed me for the nonce.” I gave her a wide smile. “That was enough.”
She scowled. “Hold it up here.” There were several shallow trenches cut in the wall, perfectly spaced for climbing. At the top was a circular access plate, but there was a hefty bronze lock on our side.
“Hold it still, Judicar!” The Spider had climbed three of the rungs and was leaning out far enough to work at hawking the lock.
“Altering or defacing the means designed to keep the Deepcity secure? That’s a tier four offense, ma’am.” I kept my tone light.
“You can serve me my writ later.” She grunted, fiddling a tool into the lock. When it clicked, she turned toward me with a smile. “Let’s tally how many times I save your backside as well, shall we?” She pushed upward, and the panel filled with brilliant sunlight. “We’ll even up at the end.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” I followed her upward, squinting.
It was a relief to crawl up in to daylight, even if my eyes were momentarily blinded. We crawled up into the middle of a broken, weed-choked street.
Not that anyone cared.
“Good, Good Thom,” Scoundrel hopped down into the dusty cobbles and looked up at me.
“Yes, pretty girl.” I looked up at the Spider. “This was all my will.”
The Spider laughed, and we began to walk.
2
The Remnants was a crescent-shaped borough that had fallen into ruin, slowly being abandoned over the past hundred years or so. It wasn’t anything dark or dire; people had simply been moving further toward the coast for some time now. There were dozens of tiny reasons, but I had always suspected that, in the end, the last scraps of humanity preferred to be closer to the center of the city and further away from the bounds a
nd the tides of ceaseless darkness.
It made sense.
Of course, some people still lived here; it just wasn’t exactly a borough. The Remnants was considered beyond the reach of the Legate Courts and was almost an outlier of its own. The folk who lived here clung to life in their half-ruined houses. They would often come into the city proper for supplies.
“Afternoon.” I nodded at a group of young men, lounging against an old brick wall and playing throw-stones. Not one of them nodded back, as if they were accustomed to seeing a judicar and a Q’sarri woman pop up from an old sewer grate.
“Thom.” Scoundrel was on the ground, but she had spotted the young men looking our way. She didn’t like it any more than I did.
“It’s fine, little rook.” I walked with purpose and confidence, although I’ll admit a slight amount of concern. This neighborhood was dangerous. Even though I was a judicar, it was not a place I would want to be at night.
Judicars didn’t have as much weight out here as I was accustomed to throwing around.
The Warren’s Spider didn’t even seem to mark the young men. She walked along, peering at the old street signs, trying to find her bearing.
Many of the streets were crammed with run-down tenements, rotting flats that held far more people than were originally intended. I personally knew that several of them doubled as illegal tonic-houses or shabby dens for prostitution and other, less savory crimes. Every second or third building looked as if it should be condemned and had likely been abandoned by its previous owner.
Of course everyone—including the Fox—had heard that some mysterious investor was slowly buying up property in the Remnants, but whoever it was didn’t seem to be doing much in the way of improvement.
People watched me from windows or lounged on porches. Half a block ahead, there were several young men who were drinking and dicing in the mouth of an alleyway. When they saw me coming, they began to drift away.
We needed to be careful. Attitude was vital.
I walked down the streets, my head as high as if I were in the gardens at Teris Hill or the Guildquarter. I nodded at the folk who would meet my eye and tipped my hat to the older residents. One of them, an ebon-skinned Kabian man, even waved back. It was often surprising how far a friendly smile could get a man.
Well, a friendly smile and a raven with blades on her legs.
“You haven’t told me where we are going,” I kept my tone affable and light. “I might need to find my way forward after we are jumped by Remnants dirkmen and sappers.”
“Judicar.” The Spider’s tone was light. “If I’m dead, you’re long in the ground.” She grinned. “Still it won’t hurt for you to know. We’re looking for the Old Argyrian house.”
“We are.” I let the pause hang in the air, light as a brick.
“Yes.” She nodded, glancing up at me. “One of my fellows indicated that the story told by the Fox was a true one, and that Rebeka had been brought here.”
“The Blade.” It only took a nonce of thought, after all the other members of her foursome were all accounted for. “He learned something and shared it with you.”
“Just the location. Told me we’d meet today in that scut-smelling little cabaret.” She looked up to me. “To be square, I had almost assumed he had sent you in his stead.”
“No.” I chuckled, somewhat pleased that the Spider didn’t know everything. “I haven’t seen Padraig O’Donnel, since this whole affair began.”
“So…” She gave me a wry smile. “Coincidence, then.”
“Yes.” I smiled back, the image of innocence. “Coincidence.”
I thought about the name as we walked. Most of Teredon’s buildings had names of one kind or another, and they were often quite descriptive. This one, unless I missed my guess, meant “the old silver” house—
I stopped in place, my eyes wide. Behind my mind, gold boiled and burned in my blood.
I see the stranger shuffle the cards into another deck. The card on top of the deck has a blade made of ice upon it. Another has an old, darkened road upon it, while yet another has a silver door.
“Judicar?” The Spider stopped mid-step, looking to me. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. The serum was much weaker today, the headachy dizziness was all but gone. “I had a thought about another story I heard, one about young women being taken to the Remnants.”
“I heard that one too.” She turned from me as she spoke, looking up at a posted street sign. In faded letters, it read Barrens Avenue. “I suppose we’ll have to see if it plays out.”
I followed her, my thoughts tumbling. I was apparently on the right road—at least according to the serum. However, it was much weaker than it had been, and I had no idea how much help it would be.
Had that been my last vision as it played itself out? Was I on my own from here on out, trusting myself to a fabled assassin?
It was chilling how… how friendly she was being. Not a bell ago, I had watched her threaten to skin alive everyone that poor Kyle loved, and her temperament toward me hadn’t been much warmer. Now, however, it was as if we were just two guildmen out on a job.
I wondered how quickly that coin could turn again. Had it already spun against Fox and the others? Is that why they stood against Santiago now?
There were questions, but no answers, only the road forward.
I walked it, waiting for the turn.
The Argyrian House
Sundering, First Bell, Eventide
Apparently Barrens Avenue was where we wanted to be. If I had a wisp of an idea where we had been going, I would have paid a runner to tell me the way. Then again, guild runners probably rarely made their way to this neighborhood.
Moonrise House. Edgeborough House. Felling House. Some of the signs were untended and almost impossible to read. Many of the homes had yards where the grass had grown to my waist, waving in the wind. Still, I worked my way down the tattered cobbles, looking for any writing that vaguely resembled Argyrian House.
Three houses later and we still had nothing. I was starting to wonder if I had missed it when the Spider nodded.
“There we are.” When she looked to me, her grin was sharp.
I looked for the name of a house, but all I saw was the guild sign.
“Oh.” A slow smile spread across my face as I realized my mistake.
“Thom?” My girl was excellent at reading my emotions.
“Nothing, pretty bird.” It was nothing. It’s just that I expected an actual house.
“The Old Argyrian House” wasn’t a house at all. It had been a guildhouse, once upon a time. It didn’t have an address sign on the front but instead had a silvery-colored pick-axe on a black background—the symbol for the Argyrian Guild.
“It’s literally the old Argyrian House.” I mused to myself. My good girl looked up at me but said nothing.
“Seems so.” The Spider chuckled to herself.
Probably, in the past, members of the Argyrian Guild had lived in the neighborhood and used the large building as a meeting hall and storage. Now, it simply loomed over the neighborhood, half hidden by waving vegetation the color of old wheat. Like many abandoned buildings, it didn’t truly seem empty. It seemed as if it watched, as if it waited, like a predator.
As I walked up the broken-down stairs to the door, I had only one thought: Maybe Wil should have come after all. I would have paid a good coin to watch him try to be smart with the Warren’s Spider.
That wasn’t the point, however. There was a miasma about the place, the kind of gloom that seeps into the bones. I didn’t just want Wil; I also wanted my mentor Alejandro, a few Saltmen, and a cadre of stoneworkers, just for effect. Tainted night, I’d even take one of the inquisitors. The building almost had an animate feel to it, looming over us as if it were hungry.
Well, at least I had a legendary assassin with me.
I loosened the strap to my ironwood stave and pulled it to my free hand. Scoundrel noted that I had t
he stave loose. She flapped away from my shoulder and took up sentry, a few strides to my right on a hitch-post. It wasn’t accidental positioning. This was her primary stance, a few steps from the judicar and off the ground. It meant that anyone I was attacking, she could strike from the side with her gaffs. From this position, she would strike low, preferring the heel tendons or hamstrings while I struck at the head.
It was her default position.
“First.” She seemed so serious. “First, Thom. First.”
“It’s so interesting to watch how she behaves, when she isn’t being set against me.” The Spider’s tone was musing. “So much to learn.”
I scowled at her, stepping up to the door. I held the stave up on my shoulder, gripping it firmly. It seemed to rest easily there, but in a nonce I could flip it downward, swinging at skull-shattering speeds. I reversed the stave for a moment and used it to pound on the door with loud knockings that seemed to echo into the street.
“Judicar!” My voice was deep, rumbling with authority. I placed the stave back on my shoulder, holding my feet apart.
“What.” The Warren’s Spider gave me a look of disgusted disbelief. “You’re knocking?”
“I have to knock,” I gave her an irritated look. “If I don’t follow the Codices, I can’t bring a writ against anyone present. The legates will throw out my arguments.”
“Writs?” She scoffed incredulously. “Judicar, do you imagine that Santiago wants someone tried in a court of law? Do you expect they will be hiring barristers and dressing their best for a day in front of the legates?”
It was a foolish thought. Still, I couldn’t back down. I took my first stance, focused upon the door in front of me.
The stanza for the pose echoed in my memory.
Like a sky-born storm
A fierce strike from the heavens
Sharpness on black wings
I stood there, holding my feet apart, my gaze forward. A nonce passed, and then a second.
No one was coming.
