by M. Walsh
“Make him free your boy or tell you where he is,” he said. “I’m sure you can be persuasive.”
“If it’s even him,” she said. “I still don’t know if this Last Vigorian is Jagger.”
“If it’s him, you win. If it isn’t …” He shrugged. “You think the world will be any poorer with Jonathon Gash gone?”
She shivered and took a drag of her cigarette. Scifer wasn’t wrong. Even if he did lead her to Jagger, she would have to kill Gash anyway. What was that to her? By all accounts, he was a ruthless bastard who ran a slave trade. He probably deserved much worse than getting his throat cut by the likes of her.
But there was something cold-blooded about it that troubled her. She pictured that man in the tavern near Devon—with the bleeding slit up his belly. An image of the Enforcer flashed across her mind, and the people in Daredin’s tower … and Gain …
That’s not the same thing.
“It’s risky,” she said, clearing her throat. “And short notice.”
“This might be your only shot at Gash in the open,” said Scifer. “He’s usually holed up in his mansion up on Oasis Slope or rolling around in his armored carriage. Word is he and Clock are on edge about Krutch Leeroy.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Clock mentioned Leeroy was here.”
“Supposedly he’s one of the reasons they’re meeting.”
She finished her cigarette and let the smoke out with a long sigh. Tracking Gash into the Tombs and ambushing him was risky, dangerous, and might not amount to anything. On the other hand, best case scenario, it could result in her finding and freeing Jagger that very night.
And so it was, on the dark, still night, Katrina and Scifer staked out Gash’s mansion and followed the carriage into the Tombs. They kept to the rooftops, leaping from ledge to ledge in the moonlight, and Katrina felt a sense of nostalgia come upon her. It had been years since she’d been involved in some kind of stealth mission—usually with Jagger by her side.
Scifer, armed with his pair of bladed-tonfa, leapt and bound from roof to roof with impressive speed and agility. Katrina surprised herself keeping up pace considering how long it’d been. Her breathing was heavy, and she picked up a sweat, but she felt alive in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
As they reached the edge of the Tombs, they stopped to catch their breaths before picking up again, and it occurred to her to ask: “Why are you helping me?”
“What’s that..?”
“You never told me why you’ve been helping me,” she said. “What are you getting out of this?”
“I told you,” he said. “I find you interesting.”
“But that doesn’t—”
“Besides,” he cut in. “Haven’t you guessed already?” He looked at her and grinned. “I’m a troublemaker.”
Despite everything, Katrina smiled back.
* * *
“I don’t like this, boss.”
Krutch, Audra, and Arkady crept up to Building 237 with little trouble—unaware that any guards that would’ve impeded their path were already taken out by Scifer Olc.
They found a boarded window eight feet over the sidewalk and gave Arkady a boost to reach it. Once he was in, he helped Krutch and Audra up. Inside was an empty room with a wooden floor and blank walls. There was a single doorway that opened into a thin, bare hallway that smelled like a basement. There were no lights or guards in either direction.
“What would you like?” said Audra with a sneer.
“Honestly,” said Arkady. “Guards. People. Anything. This was too easy.”
“You don’t suppose—”
He stopped short upon hearing approaching footsteps. They ducked inside the barren room and waited until the Wraith patrol passed by. Krutch caught a glimpse of the guard—a short, thin man clad in the familiar black and gray armor—but luckily he didn’t stop to inspect the room and continued walking down the hall.
When the Wraith’s footsteps faded away, Audra whispered, “Happy..?”
“I am actually,” said Arkady. “Now what?”
They sneaked through the hall and came upon a stairway leading up. As they moved, Krutch understood why Arkady preferred more guards. The pronounced silence and stillness was somehow worse. His heart thudded in his chest so hard he thought someone would hear it. Each step creaked and moaned beneath their weight, and he expected alarms to go off any moment.
The stairs led to a platform circling the inside of the building which overlooked lines and lines of boxes stacked atop one another. The building was a massive storeroom packed with hundreds of crates stretching into the darkness.
They didn’t waste time gawking, as more Wraiths were patrolling the platform. They found another set of stairs leading into the storeroom and ducked amidst the crates. Hidden among the boxes and shadows, Krutch let out a sigh of relief—unsure if he found the tension exhilarating or unpleasant.
“What do you suppose is in them?” Audra asked, inspecting the crates. They were unmarked, and the stale smell of wood and sawdust was strong. Krutch also picked up another scent he couldn’t place. It reminded him of fire.
“Probably the swords and armor Clock sells,” Arkady said. “I bet they’re forged somewhere else in the Tombs and stored here.”
“Can I take something?” Audra asked. “I want a sword.”
“We’re pirates, aren’t we?” Krutch said, shrugging. “Might as well steal some stuff. Just open them quietly.”
Audra smiled like a child on a holiday. As she and Arkady pried open a box, Krutch looked over the vast line of crates, stretching from one end of the storeroom to the other. There had to have been thousands of weapons stored. No wonder Clock was so wealthy.
Impressive, he thought, but nothing he couldn’t have already guessed. He’d come to the Tombs hoping to find something he could use against Clock. From the way everyone acted whenever the Tombs were mentioned, he’d expected to find some special, hidden secret. If it was just where Clock made and stored weapons, why act so cryptic?
There was light on the opposite side of the storeroom, and he guessed that was where Clock was meeting with Gash. He wondered if it was worth trying to spy on them. Maybe if he heard what they were discussing he could find something?
Behind him, Audra pulled a shining broadsword from a crate. Holding it, her eyes lit up with an eager grin. “I like this,” she said. “What do you think I should name it?”
“I think—wait! Did you hear that?”
The three of them froze. Krutch tensed, worried a Wraith had spotted them. He waited as silence returned to the massive storeroom and held his breath, hoping he was mistaken. Audra and Arkady stared at him, wide-eyed and waiting to hear whatever it was, but the storeroom remained quiet.
He was about to sigh in relief, but heard it again. It was a faint echo, sounding like a ghost in the darkened storeroom. “Do you hear it?”
Arkady nodded, and Audra said, “Where’s it coming from? It doesn’t sound like it’s in here.”
He heard the echo again and was relieved she was right. Whatever it was, it wasn’t in the room with them. They stayed close to the wall and crept along until coming across an archway that revealed another stairwell. It led deeper beneath the storeroom, and the echo came from below.
“What do you think is down there?” Arkady asked.
“It can’t be workers,” said Audra.
Krutch, against his better instinct and usual nature, started down the stairs. He’d come this far to find out what Clock was hiding in the Tombs, and he intended to see it through. He glanced at Audra and Arkady and said, “Wait here.”
A single landing down and whatever light remained was gone. He reached another landing only to find more stairs descending further. The steps were steep, and in the pitch blackness, he almost fell down multiple times.
The air turned humid and thick. Grasping the wall to keep from falling, he felt dampness. A dull drumming and rumbling drifted from the darkness below. There was also a ranci
d smell like sweat, meat, and fire so potent, Krutch choked.
Eventually, light returned. It was faint and had an orange tint. The sounds became clearer. There was inhuman screeching and guttural barking in a language he didn’t recognize. Soon the stairs revealed a cavernous underground. The walls were harsh stone with jagged stalagmites hanging everywhere.
The air was hot and stunk. All around him, hundreds of creatures with green and yellow skin and large, pointed ears scurried about and worked at making weapons and armor. For a moment, Krutch feared he stumbled onto a demon pit, but he recognized these creatures.
Goblins.
“Oh, crumbs.”
* * *
When Jonathon Gash’s convoy came to a stop, Katrina and Scifer found a perch across the street from Building 237. They watched Gash climb out of his carriage—with assistance from his Eldér companion—and limp inside the building. It was difficult to see him clearly, but even from a distance in the dark, Katrina was struck by the oddly proportioned man.
“That was Jonathon Gash?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Scifer. “And I believe his Eldér woman is named Serk.”
Now I know what Clock meant.
“So what now..?” Scifer asked, yawning.
She surveyed the building and considered her options. She and Scifer agreed to follow Gash into the Tombs and wait for the right opportunity—but beyond that, they had no specific plan. The temptation to sneak in was there, but she resisted. There was one visible entrance, but numerous windows. She could see a handful of Wraiths stationed around the building and guessed there were more she couldn’t see.
“Our best bet is to wait,” she said. “When he comes out, we ambush him on his way back to his mansion.”
“You’re not curious what they’re meeting about?”
“A little,” she admitted. “But I doubt it concerns me and sneaking in is an unnecessary risk.”
Scifer stared at her a moment, his face expressionless. “Fair enough,” he said, standing up. “I’m going in.”
“What?!” she snapped. “Don’t be stupid! We’re only here for Gash! There’s no need—”
“No,” he said. “You’re here for Gash. I’m here for a project.”
Before she could ask what that meant, Scifer flashed a grin and ran off. He leapt to the roof next door and disappeared into the night, leaving Katrina in a mixture of confusion, anxiety, and frustration.
She paced around the roof, muttering to herself and tugging at her hair. Of all the random, impulsive, reckless … she told herself not to bother. She didn’t know Scifer Olc. What was he to her, and what difference would it make that he went sneaking around? Worst case scenario, he would be caught, causing Gash to leave early and give her an opportunity.
I’m just here to save Jagger, she thought. If that idiot wants to get himself killed, that’s …
He saved my life.
For whatever reason, he helped her when she was attacked by Zeke, Slim, and Dux. He helped her again when she escaped the fighting pit. She didn’t know him or what he was getting out of their alliance, but she couldn’t abandon him.
Katrina felt her hand shake. She’d been mentally prepared for many things that night, but she wasn’t counting on this. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down and focus on her task ahead. She could do this, she thought. She’d snuck into worse places without incident.
She sighed and shook her head. “Thank you, Scifer,” she grumbled. “This is just what I needed.”
She decided her best chance of getting inside would be the roof, but there was no way of getting there from where she was. Fortunately, 237 had a bridge connecting it to another building she could get to unnoticed. She slipped down and around without trouble, but once she reached 237, she had to contend with the Wraiths.
Perched on a ledge just below the roof, she glanced over and saw it was a flat surface that offered no cover except a pair of skylight windows and a door into the building. The windows appeared to have no locks, but that was small comfort.
She counted eight Wraiths, but didn’t want to engage any of them without knowing how skilled they were. If they gave her even a little trouble, more guards could be alerted and she’d lose Gash.
The night was still and quiet without even a breeze. The guards kept their attention on the street and surrounding rooftops—only occasionally checking behind them. There was no pattern, so she could only time her move as best she could and hope.
Taking a breath, and keeping her sword ready, she flipped onto the roof and darted to the nearest skylight. Her heart racing, with only seconds to spare, she pulled on the latch.
It didn’t move.
She pulled harder, but it still wouldn’t budge. Although she couldn’t see her reflection in the window, she assumed whatever color she had drained from her face.
Shit! Shit, shit, shit!
She searched for a lock, but found nothing. The night was still quiet, but Katrina could swear she heard a clock ticking in her head. Her nerves feeling like drills in the back of her neck, she wondered how much noise she’d make breaking the latch. The taste of blood came to her as she bit on her lower lip.
Another pull and the latch opened—not locked; just jammed.
Convinced this would be the moment she was spotted, she slipped through the window and hung there for a second before seeing steel rafters below. She dropped from the skylight and landed on the beam without a sound, clutching her sword and sweat pouring down her brow.
When she was sure none of the Wraiths noticed her, she let out a sigh of relief—wishing for a drink and cigarette.
“I’m too old for this,” she muttered.
From where she was, Katrina could see the entire inside of Building 237. It was a massive storeroom packed with boxes and crates, but having gotten in, she was left to wonder what she would do next. Where was Scifer? What was he planning to do if he got in?
At one end of the building, she saw a small office. Standing guard at the door was an armored man holding a spear. Inside was Sebastian Clock, Jonathon Gash, Gash’s Eldér servant, and a woman with blonde hair she didn’t recognize.
With the rafters extending over the office, she made her way there, guessing that would be where Scifer would go. If nothing else, she figured, she could learn more about Gash or Clock.
As she got closer, she made out voices through the wooden ceiling. The first was Clock: “… suppose it hasn’t occurred to either of you Leeroy is playing you both?”
“Of course it has,” said a gruff, harsh voice she assumed was Gash. “I don’t know about your wife, but I only want to find out what Leeroy is planning. You’re not the only one concerned with his presence, Sebastian.”
“That reminds me, Gash,” said Clock. “Haven’t you considered Leeroy might be responsible for what happened in Gain?”
“Based on what? If you know something, I have a right to know.”
“Don’t know. Just suspicions.” There was a pause. “I only suggest you tread carefully around Leeroy, Gash. If he is a hostile, don’t presume I’m his only target.”
Gain..? Does he think I’m connected to Krutch Leeroy?
“And what’s your excuse?” Clock said.
“I’m trying to learn what he’s up to,” the woman said. “Anything I can find will only help you, no..?”
There was another pause, followed by footsteps, and the sound of violence. Although Katrina didn’t see it, she knew Clock struck the woman and she’d fallen to the floor.
“If you want to help, Evelyn,” he said. “Stick to what you know and keep out of my affairs. Okay, dear?”
Clock punctuated with another punch. Crouched in the rafters, Katrina resisted the impulse to leap through the ceiling and strike him dead right there. She knew nothing about this Evelyn woman—she could be as bad as Clock and Gash for all she knew—but the idea Clock would talk to Gash, but respond to her with violence made her sick.
He resumed ta
lking, but Katrina didn’t listen. Something sharp poked her back, and she heard someone behind her say, “Don’t even breathe.”
She put her hands up and looked over her shoulder to find a Wraith guard with his sword drawn. “Even in the rafters, huh?” she said. “Thorough.”
Her eyes locked with the Wraith. She could get out of this, she knew. Slap his sword away and strike him down. The trick would be doing it without making a sound or letting him fall. She took a breath and braced herself to attack, but the decision would be made for her.
A commotion broke out at the other end of the storeroom. Someone was yelling, followed by the sound of people running and Goblins screeching.
The Tombs were about to come alive.
32
Lock sat on the back porch, trying to savor the quiet night. The moon glowed amidst a vast sea of stars. The air was mild, and a gentle breeze drifted from the mountains in the north. His belly was full, and had he been the type who favored cigarettes, he might have indulged a smoke.
Despite the ideal conditions, Lock didn’t feel at ease. A few days had passed since they talked to the Sheriff, and although nothing happened since, he felt a distinct tension hanging over the house.
Deck had just left to check on the Gauntlet and make sure it was safe. Lock got the impression if his brother had his way, he would stand guard day and night. Cassie wasn’t speaking to Deck for some reason he wasn’t aware of. Seria was outwardly calm, as always, but he could see she, like him, was anticipating something to go wrong any moment.
Sheriff Rieko warned his men and the town guards to be on high alert for strange or suspicious people entering Aster. So far, all was as it should be. Nevertheless, Lock had taken to practicing with his sword more than ever. The Guardians arriving and taking the Gauntlet off their hands without incident seemed too easy. He couldn’t shake the certainty something was coming and he needed to be ready for it.
He returned inside with a sigh and considered indulging some—or a lot of—wine before calling it a night. After pouring a glass, he found Cassie waiting in the hall by the stairs.
