“You were outvoted, Quibly,” said the Loopi, his voice flat and cold. “Don’t embarrass yourself by showing your weakness in front of strangers.”
“I can still speak my mind, Kor’sa’vor. You can’t scare me.”
The Loopi turned on the man, and Keltin saw Quibly shrink before the hulking form.
“Brave are you? Then why don’t you come down in the shadows with me, instead of pretending that you don’t know about any of us while you enjoy the sunlight every day?”
“Enough,” said Whelks. “We discussed the risk of bringing these two here, and decided it was worth it due to the potential benefits to the cause.”
“Then hurry up and get started,” said Quibly, turning away from them and sitting at a table in the corner.
Whelks turned to Keltin and Harper.
“I apologize for our display. This is a small cell, and we’ve had little contact with the larger groups in the capital. We didn’t know anything about the Destovs until they arrived in town under the supervision of a Brother from Kerrtow itself, who left almost immediately after arriving.”
“Are the Destovs here in Carris then?” asked Keltin.
“No. With Panz and his officers on high alert, we felt it was better to turn them over to another cell in the country.”
“Where?”
“A farm outside of town. I’ll give you directions once we’re done here. First, however, I wanted to discuss a proposition with you.”
Keltin noticed Harper give him a warning glance.
“Mr. Destov didn’t mention any additional business between Keltin and the Brothers in his correspondence,” he said. “Are you insinuating that your assistance has a hidden cost?”
“I suppose you would prefer we risk exposing ourselves just because you deserve our help,” said Kor’sa’vor. “How shameful of us to ask for anything in return.”
“Hear us out at least,” said Whelks. “I think you can spare us that much. If you don’t agree to help us, we’ll tell you where the Destovs are and you can be on your way.”
Harper didn’t seem convinced, but he turned to Keltin.
“This is your endeavor. I’ll leave it up to you.”
Keltin turned to Whelks.
“We’ll listen,” he said. “But we won’t promise anything beyond that.”
“Fair enough. Now, you already know about the closing of the borders, but what you don’t know is that the Vaughs are moving a large number of soldiers to the south to bolster the border guards. Among them will be Jolice Freck, a close advisor of Grik Pallow, the new Supreme Minister. Freck will be overseeing the deployment of the troops personally, and will be establishing his headquarters here in Carris.”
“That sounds like confidential information,” said Harper. “How did you find out about it?”
Whelks gave a sneering smile and jerked his chin towards Quibly in the corner. “We’ve got a man who works in the MLP office here in town. He had a chance to rifle through Panz’s missives.”
“You don’t have to tell them everything,” said Quibly. “What if they’re captured?”
“Show some backbone.” Whelks turned back to Keltin. “As I was saying, Panz has been especially vigilant in the execution of his duties in anticipation of Freck’s arrival. I think that you’ve seen some of that already in the short time that you’ve been here.”
The brash young face of Lough flashed in Keltin’s mind before he could push the thought aside.
“So what does this have to do with us?” he asked.
“It’s just you that we’re interested in, Mr. Moore. Your abilities as a beast hunter are incredibly valuable. You’re skilled at moving stealthily, learning the lay of the land, marksmanship... and beyond that, you’ve got a clear exit strategy. You can leave the country as soon as it’s done.”
“As soon as what’s done?”
“We want you to kill Freck.”
“No.”
“There will be little personal risk. We’ve already—”
“I said no. I’m no assassin. I kill beasts, not people.”
“Freck is a beast. You’ve met Panz already, and Freck is ten times worse. If you knew half of what he’s been a party to since the Heterack Empowerment—”
“I don’t care. I’ve told you no. Now tell me where the Destovs are.”
Kor’sa’vor spoke up, his voice deceptively calm.
“And what if we decided not to tell you?”
Keltin turned to the Loopi slowly, meeting his dark-eyed gaze steadily.
“You don’t want to do that,” he said softly.
“Why not? You’ve already said that you don’t kill people. Or do you think ‘apes’ aren’t people?”
Keltin ignored the barb and watched the Loopi coldly. Harper spoke up, addressing his comments to Whelks.
“You said that you’d tell us where the Destovs are once we’d listened to you. Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain, or not?”
Whelks’s voice was edged with steel. “I said that we would tell you once you’d heard us out. Which you haven’t done. Besides, we don’t take well to threats.”
“Neither do we,” said the newspaperman, “but we’re not afraid to make them if we have to.”
“And just what sort of threat do you think you can make?” said Whelks. “We’re in the position of authority here. You need our information.”
“We could turn you in to Panz.”
There was a heart-beat’s hesitation before Whelks’s snide reply.
“Why should he believe you?”
Harper shrugged. “I doubt Panz would need much of an excuse to make a few more arrests before Freck gets here, especially if it’s of three would-be assassins.”
“Talk like that won’t see you live through the night.”
“You didn’t bring a beast hunter to this meeting. I did.”
“This is getting out of hand!” said Quibly as he jumped up from his chair and rushed in front of Whelks, grabbing the taller man by the lapels. “Whelks, don’t make this worse. We have to keep cool heads, remember? Cool heads!”
Whelks muttered something that Keltin couldn’t make out as he was keeping his attention on Kor’sa’vor. The Loopi watched Keltin like a card player, not giving anything away, waiting for his opponent to make the first move. Keltin felt his body tense like a wound spring, waiting for the release of violence.
Quibly was right. Things had escalated too quickly. Tension and tempers were getting the best of them. Angry as he was at the actions of the Carris cell of the Brothers, Keltin couldn’t let his pride get in the way of helping the Destovs.
He was about to say as much to the Brothers when there was a sudden shudder of rattling wood above them. Whelks and Quibly instantly silenced their whispered argument. The light was doused and they all stood in the darkness, listening. It came again, and there was no mistaking it. Somebody was knocking down the warehouse’s front door. A third shuddering strike was followed by a crash and the tread of heavy footfalls above them. The floor creaked and protested as multiple heavy bodies filled the space directly above them. Keltin’s hand went for his hand cannon, still loaded with wax rounds. Drawing the oversized revolver, he took a position near the bottom of the stairs.
A muffled voice drifted down to them through the floorboards.
“Area is clear, sir. There’s nobody here.”
“Search for secret doors.” The voice was Panz’s. “Nobody has been observed leaving this building. They’re here somewhere.”
The sounds of overturned furniture filled the darkness. Keltin could sense rather than hear the others moving around him. He heard a nearby whisper, and felt someone drawing close to his place by the bottom of the stairs. The smell of muskiness suggested Kor’sa’vor, and Keltin moved away to avoid a collision with the Loopi. Suddenly there was a rattling stomp on the hatch door above them.
“Sir! I’ve found a door.”
“Open it up! Pistols at the ready!”
“Listen up down there!” called Panz. “We know you’re there, and we have every member of the Carris MLP ready for you. Come into the light with your hands up and you’ll survive the night. If we have to come down there, not a one of you will live through it.”
Nobody moved. Keltin looked up at the floorboards and tried to gauge how many men were actually above them. Judging by the squeaking of the floor it certainly wasn’t the entire local MLP force. Less than half a dozen, he estimated. He was debating whether a Reltac spinner could go through the floor and still stop a man without killing him when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
Turning his attention to the pool of light, he saw an officer come racing down the stairs –a nightstick in one hand and a pistol in the other— with another officer close on his heels holding a revolver and a lantern. The first officer was approaching the final steps when a long, hairy arm reached out of the darkness and plucked him like an apple from a tree, yanking him into the shadows. The second officer cried out and fired blindly, swinging his lantern wide to try to light the space around him. Suddenly there was a second gunshot from the darkness and the officer tumbled down the stairs. Whelks leapt into the pool of light provided by the fallen lantern. He took it up along with the man’s pistol and rushed the stairs. He raced upward, his gun firing as fast as he could pull the trigger. Keltin heard several thumps of bodies above him joined with screams of pain and animal fear.
Seeing his opportunity, Keltin rushed towards the bottom of the stairs but was knocked aside as a heavy weight fell on him. Kor’sa’vor raced past him as Keltin struggled to free himself from the unexpected burden. He wrestled with the weight, struggling to roll it off of himself as gunshots continued to sound from upstairs. Finally he freed himself and turned over the weight to see that it was Whelks, a bullet hole in his face. Struggling to his feet, Keltin realized that the shooting had stopped. He hurried up the stairs, hand cannon at the ready, but found that the violence was already over with. All of the officers were on the ground silent, with the Loopi standing among them. Kor’sa’vor stood with a pistol looking like a toy in his large hand as blood ran down from a gunshot wound in his other arm. The Loopi was looking down at a prone figure that Keltin recognized as Panz.
Keltin quickly went to the fallen officers to remove their weapons but found that there was no need. Every one of them was dead. Turning one over, Keltin saw the killing shot that had done it. A blast in the top of the head. The man had been killed after he was already down. Looking up at Kor’sa’vor, he saw the Loopi staring at Panz, a slowly bleeding hole in the Prefect’s face. The creak of footsteps signaled Quibly and Harper coming up the stairs. Harper was pale, and Quibly was visibly shaking.
“Why... why?” he said, looking at the dead bodies all around them. He stepped up to Kor’sa’vor’s side, looking down at Panz.
“What have you done?” he whispered.
The Loopi didn’t respond as he bent down and retrieved the guns from the officers, turned, and began to make his way out of the warehouse.
“Where are you going?” demanded Quibly. “You can’t leave me like this!”
Kor’sa’vor paused in the doorway. “Whelks is dead,” he said. “The cell is dead. Do what you think best, Quibly.”
The Loopi left. Keltin turned to Quibly as the shaking little man looked down at the body of his former employer. The Brother was clearly in shock. Keltin went and stood in front of him, blocking his view of Panz’s body.
“Quibly, we can’t stay here. We have to leave.”
“Dead... they’re all dead...”
Harper came to the man’s side, his voice soft and gentle.
“Come on, Quibly. I’ll help you. You just need to tell Mr. Moore where the Destovs are, and then we can take care of everything. All right?”
“The Destovs?” Quibly seemed far away, his voice traveling a great distance. “You go to the Harstev farm,” he said. “It’s east of here. Ask for Petrov. Tell him the crows have flown, and you have to make the sign.”
“What sign?”
Quibly didn’t answer.
“Quibly, what sign?”
“...what?”
“We don’t have time for this,” said Keltin. “He’s told us enough for now. Let’s get him out of here.”
“You go,” said Harper. “I’ll get him to safety. You go to the Harstev farm.”
“But—”
“Keltin, there isn’t time. Someone will have reported those gunshots. Go tell Wendi what’s happened then go after the Destovs. They may be in trouble. I’ll find Ross, we’ll pick up Wendi and Kuff, and follow you as soon as we can.”
“I—”
“It’s all right. Go!”
Harper turned and began to lead Quibly away via the small side entrance they’d come in through. Keltin hesitated for two heartbeats then turned and left through the front doorway. He was less than a dozen steps down the street when he heard approaching footsteps. Looking up, he saw two MLP officers approaching him, each with nightsticks and revolvers in their hands.
“Stop right there!”
Keltin stood his ground as the two men came to a stop in front of him.
“Put your weapons on the ground!” one of them shouted.
“That will take a moment,” Keltin said as calmly as he could.
Keltin gauged the distance between himself and the two officers. Six steps, maybe seven. He could likely clear that distance and strike with the Ripper before one of them was able to fire his pistol, but it would be close, and there was still the second officer to contend with. He also had his hand cannon inside his open coat, hidden for the moment but easy enough to get to. Still, the men already had their revolvers out, and while Keltin was fast, he couldn’t draw and shoot twice before they fired. Calculating the risk, he decided on a gamble.
Setting his rifle down on the ground, he stood back up and reached for the Ripper hanging on his shoulder. In a single motion he flung the weapon at the feet of the officers blade first. They both flinched, looking down and jumping back slightly to avoid the savage blades and hooks. It was just a brief moment, but it was all Keltin needed to draw his hand cannon out in rapid time. He didn’t hesitate as he fired, blasting a wax round into the center of the first man’s chest. The sound of air rushing from his lungs was like a bellows as he reeled backwards onto the ground. The second officer reacted in shock, hesitating for a moment before acting. He took too long. Keltin fired again, this time aiming for the man’s elbow. He cried out and stumbled against a nearby lamppost as his gun fell from his limp fingers and clattered on the cobblestones. Keltin quickly retrieved both guns from the fallen officers before grabbing his fallen weapons and racing away. Behind him, he heard cries of alarm and confusion, but he didn’t turn back as he raced through the darkened city streets, running with all his remaining strength until the last building was well out of sight.
Chapter 17 – Sweet Reunion
Keltin’s eyes burned with fatigue as he sat with them shut by the campfire. He’d wanted to press on straight to the Harstev farm, but Wendi had suggested he take a moment to rest and he hadn’t argued. He felt her sit next to him and smelled the hot cup of sweet broth in her hands.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Thank you.”
Keltin accepted the steaming mug and inhaled deeply as Wendi sat next to him silently. He’d told her enough of what had happened in the warehouse for her to know that things had gone badly, though he’d kept the details to himself. No need to share those.
Kuff rose from where he’d been drowsing by the campfire and approached him, assaulting him with foul breath and a great, toothy canine grin. Keltin rubbed the hound behind the ears, drained his cup, and stood.
“I
need to go,” he said. “Stay here until Ross and Harper return.”
“All right,” said Wendi. “Good luck. Be safe.”
“You too.”
Keltin tried to think positively as he struck out eastward. He finally knew where Elaine and her family was, and he was on his way. But all he could think about were the horrible sights and sounds of only hours before. His mind went back to the bodies he’d seen. The officers. Panz. Whelks. Strangers and people he’d hardly known, yet their deaths troubled him deeply. Was it his fault? Could he have done anything differently and prevented so much bloodshed? He had no answer, and the question only left him numb. He couldn’t even summon enough anger to hate Kor’sa’vor for what he had done. It all just left him feeling sick. Sick, and ready to put it all behind him as quickly as possible.
After more than an hour of walking across country he decided it was safe enough to travel the road moving roughly in an eastward direction. There was little other traffic, and Keltin studied the countryside to try to distract himself from the horrors of the night before. The road was flanked by farmlands on both sides, recently harvested and lying bare in the late autumn air. How tranquil everything seemed in the country, as if the horror and tragedy of the Heterack Empowerment was only a bad dream, and this was the reality. For a brief, terrible moment, Keltin had a flash of the scenery in a very different way. He saw the harvested fields as battlefields, strewn with bodies and soaked with the blood of men who would have rather stayed home than go to war. Shuddering, Keltin forced the thoughts from his mind and kept walking.
It turned out that Quibly had neglected to say just how far from town the Harstev farm was, and it was late in the evening by the time Keltin had reached what a helpful neighbor had assured him was the correct farmhouse. With his travel lantern in hand, he pushed his weary legs up the beaten earth track leading to the home, searching for any sign of habitation. He saw no one outside, but the telltale burning lights inside the home hinted that someone was within. Pausing at the front door, he did his best to steady his heavy breathing and resist the urge to sit in the weathered chair on the front porch. Summoning what strength he had left, he gave a sharp knock on the cracked paint of the front door. No response. Keltin knocked again, and again. Finally, the door was cracked open and a male silhouette peered out at him, his features masked by the light behind him.
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