The torturer snorted. “Not likely.” He picked up something the length of a finger that looked like a cross between a miniature sickle and a corkscrew. He smiled at her. “I have some special tricks for the ladies. They talk right quick.”
Kurio’s heart hammered in her chest. “We are talking! Fetch someone in charge, and I’m sure this’ll all be cleared up.”
“I ain’t no dog,” he growled. “Fetch this, fetch that.” He spat on the floor.
She’d accidentally prodded a sore spot. “All right. I’m sorry. Of course you’re not.” She thought furiously, eyes on the bright, sharp instrument gripped in the sinewy hands. She could see this was a man who enjoyed his work. “I have information—”
“And I’ll get it out of you.”
“There’s no need for that. I’ll tell you … your boss everything I know. I can’t bear to think of myself maimed. I’m vain, you see.”
He took a step toward her. “You won’t be after I’m done with you.”
Kurio licked sweat from her lips. That’s it, come closer.
“Who holds your leash, I wonder?” she goaded. “Someone who doesn’t mind working with scum like you. Do you bark when they call?”
He smiled thinly, but a red flush traveled up his neck, and the pulse there throbbed. He pointed the implement at her face and moved slowly toward her. Kurio flinched, as he expected her to, and jerked her face to the side. Feeling had returned to her arms and hands, and now was the time to act if she had any chance of surviving.
“Know what this’ll do to you?” said the torturer.
Kurio wrapped her hands around the chains attached to her manacles. “No,” she said, and jerked herself up, taking her weight on her aching arms.
A fleeting look of shock came over the torturer’s face as she jumped and attempted to wrap her thighs around his neck. He slashed at her reflexively, and she kicked the implement out of his hands. It clanged to the floor, and as he bent to pick it up, she managed to kick him in the head.
He staggered, and she wrapped both legs around his neck. She locked her legs and squeezed her knees together. Her thighs pressed against his throat, gripping tight. She imagined his neck was a watermelon in a vise.
“Gah!” The torturer’s face turned purple. He clutched her legs, desperately trying to pry himself free.
“Know what this’ll do to you?” taunted Kurio.
His fists pounded her thighs, and she twisted violently, jerking him off his feet. She cried out in pain as she took his weight along with her own, but gritted her teeth until she could think again.
“It’ll bloody kill you,” she growled.
Panic flooded the torturer’s bulging eyes. He whimpered and redoubled his efforts. He managed to get his feet under him and thrust himself upright. Agony flooded Kurio’s arms as their combined weight almost ripped her wrists off, the manacles slicing into her skin.
The man staggered, and for an instant she thought he was going down, but he emitted a strangled moan and ran toward the wall. Kurio cried out as the chains tightened and the manacles gouged her wrists. Pain exploded. She bit her tongue, and hot metallic blood filled her mouth. Her shoulders burned, and her hands went numb. Warm crimson rivulets flowed down her arms as the torturer backed up a step, then jerked forward again and again.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t—
The man’s feet slipped from under him, and he went limp. His eyes rolled into his head.
Just a little longer …
When she was certain he was dead, she let her legs go slack. Standing unsteadily, she spat blood from her mouth. It splattered onto other dark stains on the floor. Her eyes grew hot, and tears of relief flowed.
She took a few moments to suck in deep breaths, then shuffled over to the implement the torturer had dropped. She squeezed it between her feet and, moving carefully, rolled it so it rested on the top of her right boot, then flicked it into the air. She caught it on the first try and grinned.
It only took a moment to pick one lock, then use her free hand to pick the second. Separate chains. Amateurs.
She stood there, blood dribbling from her lips, sweaty and dirty, with a dead body next to her, and wondered what to do next. She had no idea where she was or who had captured her. What she did know was that she had to escape and, if possible, grab her equipment. The Skanuric paper she couldn’t care less about now. They could have it, and good riddance.
The door swung open to reveal a man and a woman. The man was broad enough to block the doorway, and short enough that the woman’s head peered over his close-cropped brown hair. He wore clothes of an expensive cotton weave, and a sheathed short sword dangled from his leather belt. The woman’s long blond hair was tied up in a bun, and she wore traveler’s leather pants and a thick linen shirt. Kurio hazarded a quick glance at their feet. You could tell a lot about a person from their footwear. He wore light leather boots, scuffed but obviously a swordsman’s, while her boots were stained and worn—with a concealed blade.
The man frowned as he took in the dead torturer, Kurio’s fresh blood splattered on the floor, and the implement in her bloody hand.
“Ah,” said Kurio, brandishing the curved implement and wondering if she had time to grab another. “I was just leaving.”
“No,” the man said in a deep gravelly voice. “You’re not.”
The woman pushed past him into the room. “For god’s sake, Mellish, you left her in here with Govert?”
Mellish shrugged. “Supposed to be his day off. How was I to know he’d decide to play torturer? The room was just supposed to scare her.” He prodded Govert’s body with his toe.
“Well, it looks like she’s scared enough,” said the woman.
“You don’t care I killed Govert?” said Kurio.
“He did a job for us,” the woman said. “There are plenty more deviants willing to replace him.”
Kurio sidled around both of them toward the open door. She was almost there when she noticed two guards outside, both wearing boiled leather armor and carrying weighted blackjacks. She couldn’t get past four of them. Not through the narrow corridors of a building she didn’t know the layout of. She sidled the other way instead, toward the brazier.
“Don’t try to run, my dear,” said the woman. She flashed perfect white teeth at Kurio. “You’ve caused us enough trouble already.”
She’s doing the talking, thought Kurio. Which means she’s in charge. Mellish is only muscle.
“You’ve got your paper,” she said. “Now let me go.”
The woman shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”
It never is.
“My name is Zarina,” she continued. “And we need to know what you know. We want to know who hired you, where you delivered the cube, what you know about your employer, and what you know about us.” She waved a hand around the room. “Although Govert is replaceable, I think you can see this room exists for a purpose. We try to avoid using it, but some people are … recalcitrant. Are you recalcitrant, Kurio?”
Bloody hells, they knew her name. She shook her head, trying to project willing cooperation, and lowered the metal implement she still held in front of her. “No, no, not me. I’ll tell you everything.”
Willas and his weird friend Gannon could go to the hells for all she cared. It wasn’t as if they’d worry about chasing her down if these people were after them, would they?
She took a deep breath. “A man named Willas hired me, a nobleman. He was sick, if that matters? I think he’s dying.”
“That’s their style,” growled Mellish.
“Hush,” said Zarina. “Go on, my dear.”
“Willas knew the layout of the building, gave me a diagram. He also knew about the Sandoval locking mechanism. He needed someone to crack it, was asking around the locksmiths. Word found its way to the Night Shadows, and I heard about it from an acquaintance. And for the hard-to-crack locks, I’m the one you want.”
“But you didn’t crack it,” s
aid Zarina. “You merely knew how it opened.”
“Details,” said Kurio dismissively. “Should I continue?”
Zarina raised her eyebrows. “Please do.”
“When I took the cube—whatever it is, I don’t know—I saw the paper and grabbed it. It wasn’t part of the job, but it was obviously valuable, so …”
“So you thought you could sell it,” said Mellish.
She shrugged. “Maybe. Well, yes, in the beginning. But after I saw the writing was Skanuric, my curiosity was piqued.”
“You recognized the writing?” said Zarina sharply.
“Yes. I’m not an idiot. There was another man with Willas when I delivered the cube. I’d never seen him before. He was … handsome. And big. Wore mail of some sort under his clothes.”
Kurio wasn’t telling them the whole story. You should always hold on to some cards.
“Could be anyone,” said Zarina.
So they didn’t know about Gannon. Did that mean he really was only a researcher? No. Somehow, Kurio knew he was the key to the whole affair.
She sighed. “There’s something else. But I need assurances.”
Mellish strode to the brazier and pumped the foot-bellows with regular strokes. The coals roared to life, glowing yellow. “Until we can replace Govert, it looks like I’ll have to do the job.”
Kurio dropped the torturer’s implement and held her palms toward him in a gesture of submission. She knew when someone else held all the cards. “There’s no need for that. He wore an odd ring, gold. It had a square face divided into four smaller squares. Each contained a Skanuric rune.”
Mellish and Zarina looked at each other.
“You,” Zarina said eventually, “are one lucky thief.”
Mellish grunted. “Lucky they didn’t kill you on the spot to cover their trail. Now, details, woman. What exactly happened? And what else do you know about the man with the ring?”
Kurio spilled it all: how she’d been contacted by the Night Shadows for the job; how much she’d been paid; where Willas lived; her encounters with Gannon, and the demons in his secret basement room; even that Gerret had waylaid her, and she’d had to kill him. She figured they probably knew about the dead thief already. When she’d finished, she felt exhausted. She’d been knocked about and needed rest. The blood on her arms had dried and stuck to her skin like glue.
Zarina looked perplexed, as if wrestling with a decision. She glanced at Mellish, then said, “What do you know of Nysrog?”
“Never heard of him. Is he a baker?”
“You’ve a smart mouth on you.”
So I’ve been told.
“I don’t know any Nysrog. Sounds like a foreign name. Is he a foreigner?”
“Do you believe her?” Zarina asked Mellish.
He nodded slowly. “She has no reason to lie. She knows that if we find out she’s misled us, we’ll have her back here and will pry the truth out one way or another. She’s told us all she knows. Let’s end this.” He drew his sword.
“Wait!” screamed Kurio. “I told you the truth!”
“Mellish!” said Zarina. “We don’t just kill people for no reason.”
“We have good reasons,” he replied.
“I swear it was the truth,” said Kurio. “By all the gods I know. And any others I don’t know about.”
Mellish began to laugh. “The look on your face!” he said between chuckles.
Kurio’s remaining strength drained from her, and she sagged to the floor. At least someone was enjoying themselves.
“We had to be sure,” said Zarina.
A practiced deception. Very funny.
Kurio closed her eyes. “Please,” she said, hating the note of surrender in her voice. “Just let me go.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Zarina said. “You know too much.”
Kurio slumped even more and held her head in her hands. “What now?” she asked, voice trembling.
“Now,” Zarina said, “we get you cleaned up. Then we tell you more about what’s going on. Then you decide to help us. We can use someone with your talents.”
“What if I don’t want to help you?”
Zarina laughed. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
~ ~ ~
Mellish and Zarina guided Kurio past the guards and down a long corridor. There were a lot of closed doors on the way. They came to a stone staircase leading up; Zarina went first, with Mellish pushing Kurio in the back when he thought she was moving too slow. They took her to a small room without much furniture. A few buckets filled with water sat next to an empty copper bathtub. A table to the side held towels and a brush. Mellish left and locked the door behind him.
“Strip,” said Zarina.
“You first,” replied Kurio.
“Do you have to make everything so difficult? You’re filthy and stink like a lathered horse. And by the way, your wig’s askew. Which isn’t surprising given what you’ve been through.”
With her head clearer and the threat of torture or death removed, Kurio decided to scale down her opposition and see what these people were all about. They weren’t going to kill her—at least not just yet—and that meant she should play meek and mild and put them at ease. With any luck, she’d find her gear, and a little extra for her trouble, and make a hasty exit. Her trusty crossbow would be difficult to replace, and it was an expense she couldn’t afford at the moment.
“All right,” she said, removing the wig. She ran her fingers over her short-cropped hair, then jerked them away, realizing she’d probably just rubbed grime from the torture chamber into it. She grimaced with disgust.
“Hold your wrists over the bathtub,” Zarina said. “I’ll wash the blood off; then I’ve something to help heal the cuts from the manacles.”
“You’re too kind,” said Kurio, with as much sincerity as she could muster.
Zarina scooped jugs of water from a bucket and poured it over Kurio’s forearms, wrists and hands, while Kurio rubbed gently at her wounds and hard at the blood on her arms. Her wrists were abraded raw and stung like a bastard.
Over at the table, Zarina opened a jar and used her fingers to take out a greenish ointment that looked like it was made from algae. “This will work quickly to numb the pain. I’m sure you’ll be as good as new in a few days.”
She spread the floral-scented ointment over Kurio’s wrists. Immediately, the aching ebbed to a dull throb. Kurio closed her eyes with relief. Now the pain was almost gone, she realized how tired she was.
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it.
“You’re welcome.”
Kurio felt Zarina slide something cold and metallic around her neck, and there was a snick as a lock clicked shut. Her eyes snapped open. Gone was Zarina’s friendly demeanor. Instead, she was hard-eyed and stern-faced.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s for the greater good.”
“What the bloody hells is this?” Kurio tried to pry the necklace off, but it was too tight. Then she felt it undulate, and her hand recoiled involuntarily. “What is this? What have you done?”
It felt like a flat band of metal, but there was a wrongness to it. It had moved, for gods’ sake!
Zarina backed away. “Calm down.”
“I bloody won’t! What have you done?”
Those hard eyes again. “What I had to. You know too much. We need to ensure we can control you.”
“Control me? You could have handed me a few royals and never heard from me again!”
“I couldn’t take that risk. And your talents will come in useful. Be thankful you’re not dead and floating in a canal. Now, strip and wash yourself. I’ll bring some fresh clothes. And you’ll get your gear back.”
Kurio’s hands clenched into fists, so hard her knuckles ached. “And what’s to stop me leaving?”
“This.” Zarina’s eyes flashed, and she uttered a few words in a language Kurio didn’t understand.
The pain came slowly at first, as if creeping
up on her. In her legs and arms and her pelvis. She frowned and tried to ignore it. If she’d had a dagger, it would have been buried in Zarina’s heart.
“What have you—”
Agony slammed into her, like white-hot daggers piercing her organs. Kurio heard herself gasp. Her hands clutched at her sides, digging into her flesh as if she could rake the pain free. She cried out, a wordless scream, and fell to the cold floor, where she writhed helplessly.
Her defenselessness filled her with rage. Pain she was familiar with, but this sorcery was something different. Harder. Sharper. Crueler.
The agony subsided. She clutched at her clothes, palms sweaty.
“That was but a fraction of the pain I could make you feel,” said Zarina.
Kurio couldn’t uncurl from a fetal position. Breathing was almost impossible.
Without warning, the remaining pain dispersed. Kurio kept her eyes closed and tried to move. Her grip was weak, and try as she might to sit up, she couldn’t. She pressed her right hand to the floor and raised her body slightly. Shifting a leg, she managed to get it underneath her rear, then pushed herself to a sitting position with the remains of her strength.
A fraction of the device’s strength had incapacitated her. She didn’t want to think about what else it could do to her.
“I’m sorry I had to do that,” said Zarina. Her voice sounded like it came from the room next door.
“You’re a bloody bitch,” Kurio spat.
“I wanted you to realize I’m serious. This isn’t trivial, what we’re doing. The fate of the world might depend on us.”
“Leave me out of it.”
“I’m afraid I can’t. You’re already involved.”
Kurio drew a shuddering breath. “I’m all right now. Thanks for asking.”
She shivered, and Zarina wrapped a soft blanket around her shoulders. Kurio thought about rejecting it, then reconsidered. She needed the comfort it offered.
Revenant Winds (The Tainted Cabal Book 1) Page 24
