by David Combs
“It’s all right, Gildra. I can vouch for them. Please, gentlemen, sit down.” She took a deep breath, sipping her tea in a futile effort to calm her nerves. As tears welled up in her eyes, the young woman swallowed hard but refused to let them come. “Things have continued to be exciting while you were away.” Galen knelt beside her, and gently took her hand. Nestor kicked through some of the rubble in the room. As Tyrell stepped closer to her, he spied white marks on her neck that conjured the thought of icy fingers that had grabbed her from behind.
“What happened here,’ asked the mage.
“I was bringing Lord Ambrose his tray as I do every night when I heard raised voices. My master was yelling at someone, but I didn’t think there was anyone else here. I certainly hadn’t allowed any other visitors in. Then I heard a second voice.” She shivered. “Gods, I’ll never forget the sound of it. It was a deep hiss, full of malice and anger. I rushed to the study to see if I Lord Ambrose required the watch. The moment I stepped in, the room plunged into complete darkness, and I felt an icy hand grab my neck.” She pointed to the marks on her skin. “Kellen cried out, and then I heard the thud of someone falling to the floor. I was so scared that I could barely breathe. Then I felt his breath, such terribly foul, icy breath, on my cheek. He said ‘tell Kellen’s trio that should they interfere any further with my plans, that the hangman’s noose shall seem a comfort compared to what I shall visit upon them.’ I was roughly shaken, and thrown to the floor where I must have fainted. Gildra woke me up only a few moments before you arrived.” Galen gave her hand a reassuring pat as Tyrell and Nestor exchanged worried glances. “Could someone please tell me what is going on,” she pleaded.
Tyrell went to the broken window and stared down onto the street. “How much do you know about Kellen and his business in Tarnath,” he asked.
“He told me that he came from the eastern baronies, and was here on some personal family business that he had been attempting to resolve for several years. He never told me anything more about it, and I certainly never felt it was my place to ask. I’m just a servant girl that he took in from the streets. Without him, I might have become one of those poor souls getting snatched away by night down at the Docks District.” She paused a moment. “Oh, that reminds me. He did mention that should you three arrive while he was away that you had something important to deliver to him. I was to take it and put it with his business papers. Do you know what he was talking about?” Tyrell nodded to Galen who produced the letter he had taken off the cultists.
“Listen to me carefully, Lorelei,” said the mage. “Kellen could be in serious trouble, and you may have been endangered as well for that matter. For years he has been chasing the vampire that killed his parents. That is the reason why he needed our help. Of course, we didn’t believe him at first, but we met up with it on our way back to Tarnath.”
“And it was this vampire’s minions who wrecked the study the night before we left,” added Nestor. He waved his hand at the debris in the room.
“A vampire,” asked Lorelei incredulously.
“Avenging his family has become Kellen’s only goal. He has been chasing this fiend for years, and will not stop until it is dead,” said Galen.
The girl rubbed the white mark on her neck. “A vampire,” she said again, only this time fear found a way to her words. “It could have killed me without a second thought.” She broke into sobs and buried her face in her hands. Galen put his arms around her, helplessly looking up to Tyrell.
“A vampire,” called a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Captain Knarya and a host of armed soldiers enter the room. “Making a move from illusion to delusion, are you, wizard? Or are you just trying to get money out of people by making them believe that you have faced the undead as well as bloodthirsty kargs? Well, your lies and deceits won’t keep you out of the noose this time. Grab them, men.”
“Wait a minute,” yelled Nestor. The two soldiers who approached him hesitated at the barbarian’s dark scowl. “What the hell have we done now?”
“We just received word that Kellen Ambrose was abducted by three men who matched your description perfectly. It’s bad enough that you three condemned souls came here and wrecked his home, but to then go and do gods only know what to the very man who spared your miserable hides, to begin with! What are you waiting for,” he growled at his men. “I said round them up.” The soldiers advanced again. Nestor pushed and shoved, while Galen dashed behind Lorelei’s chair.
“Dammit, Knarya,” yelled Tyrell. “Kellen was kidnapped by Darian, the vampire. The bastard is setting us up, so we can’t rescue Ambrose. If you hadn’t been unconscious when we were here before then you would have heard the entire story. How long ago did you receive your information?” The mage struggled uselessly in the brawny soldiers’ grasp.
“It was delivered by messenger just a short while ago. During daylight, I might add, so your vampire couldn’t possibly be the courier.”
“He has agents who can work for him during the day. That’s why we went to the Karghome Fen. We fought with cultists who worship him. I’m telling you that the vampire is tricking you into helping him. He’s trying to frame us. He already has Kellen, and that makes us the only opposition that he has left. If you take us in there will be no one to stop him. The Dockside Slayings will continue for as long as he wants them to.”
Knarya thought on the wizard’s words. “You told the girl that you saw this creature in the swamp before you got to the city. Why didn’t it kill you then?”
Galen rolled his eyes. “Who knows why it didn’t kill us? Remind me to ask next time Darian’s breathing down our necks.”
“Listen to me, Captain,” said Tyrell. “Darian has an agenda, some plot that we have yet to see the details of. That’s the only explanation as to why it hasn’t killed us yet, or why it left Lorelei helpless on the study floor. We have to stop this creature before whatever it is setting into motion is ready to unleash.”
Knarya turned to Tyrell. “I don’t know why I’m giving this any consideration at all. You three are all condemned thieves.” The fat officer sighed and ran a hand through his greasy hair. “All right. I will postpone your hangings. Again. But until I have some other proof that there is a vampire loose in Tarnath, the three of you are still my chief suspects in the disappearance of Kellen Ambrose. For that, you will receive the finest hospitality the city dungeon has to offer. Plus, you’ll be safer from the vampire there. He’d be crazy to take on the entire city garrison. Bring them along, men.”
The three men shouted and struggled, but the guards overwhelmed them. The soldiers dragged the three men into the streets and threw them into a wagon that carted them off once again towards the city dungeons.
Within a nearby alley, feral eyes gleamed beneath the moonlight.
***
The cell door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the companions found themselves once again in the cramped, smelly confines of the city prison.
“So now what are we supposed to do,” said Nestor. The warrior paced back and forth like a caged animal. “Darian is out there roaming the streets, while we’re stuck in this iron box.”
“Relax,” said Tyrell. The mage stood by the door, studying it for any possible weakness. Finding none, he sighed and leaned against the cell wall. “We need a plan. We have to get out of here so that we can find Kellen. He can straighten out all of this with the guards.” He looked at Galen who was settled comfortably against the cold stone wall at the back of the cell with hands behind his head, and his boots crossed at the ankles. “Any suggestions would be helpful. You are the one used to getting past locks.”
“What if we overpowered the guard when they bring us our next meal,” offered Nestor.
“That would probably only get us in deeper trouble with the authorities. We need to find a way to get out unnoticed.” The mage studied the door again. “I couldn’t find a weakness that I could exploit with my magic without raising some type of alarm.”
<
br /> Nestor stopped in front of the door, then threw his shoulder against it. He bounced back and rubbed his arm. “My shoulder will give out well before that damn door will.”
“Would you please be serious, Galen,” said the wizard.
“I was serious.”
“Either pick the damn lock or help us think of some other way out of here. Don’t just sit there with that stupid smirk on your face,” growled Nestor.
“I can do that,” said Galen. He pulled a key ring from out of the back of his trousers, tossing it over to Tyrell. “The jailer’s assistant should have paid more attention to what he was doing when they brought us down. The spare set was just hanging on a peg completely unattended.”
The warrior stared at the young man for a moment, then broke out laughing. “Galen, I swear I’d shake your hand if I didn’t believe that I’d have to count my fingers afterward.”
Tyrell winked at the barbarian. “Besides, since no barbarian can count beyond two on his own anyway, we haven’t got time for that.” The mage knelt by the door handle and tried the key. With a very faint click, the door slowly swung open into the empty hallway. “After you, cutpurse.”
The young thief got to his feet and went to peer around the door frame. “Sure, let me open the door for you, and then throw me into the hall first.”
“At least we’re grateful to you for it,” whispered Nestor as he gave the younger man a gentle shove. The trio crept down the hallway with Galen in the lead. The thief kept close to the wall, quickly leading them down the way they had been brought in. The hallway soon came to a junction that offered a left or right turn.
“We came in this way,” said Nestor as he started left, but the thief grabbed his forearm.
“Are you planning on going after Darian without any gear?”
“You know where our weapons are,” asked the wizard.
Galen nodded and slipped down the right-hand passage. He beckoned for his friends to follow. The passage traveled on for a few dozen yards, then turned left. Galen stopped, peering around the corner. Tyrell and Nestor watched behind them to make sure that no wandering guards came up from the rear.
“OK,” whispered Galen. “There’s only one guard. The room he is watching is a storage room. They keep evidence and confiscated equipment in there, but first, we’ll need to distract the hired help.”
“Leave the distraction to me,” growled Nestor. The barbarian ran past the thief and dashed around the corner. A loud smack sounded from around the bend followed by the thump of a body hitting the floor. Galen and Tyrell looked around the corner and saw Nestor poised above an unconscious man who wore a grubby city guard uniform.
“You call that a distraction,” asked Tyrell.
“I’d say that his attention is somewhere other than on us, wouldn’t you?”
Galen ignored his two friends as he bent down to the lock on the storage room door. The young thief pulled a thin wire from the heel of his boot and went to work.
“By the way,” said Nestor, “how in Alhambra’s Hells did you know where this storage room was?”
The thief listened as the tumblers fell into place, then pulled the heavy wooden door open. He motioned his friends inside. “I found it as part of my training for guild membership. We had to devise a daring crime, and pull it off without getting pinched. It was a practice that very few novices ever succeeded at. They get too busy trying to impress guild officers when they should be focusing on the details of the crime. Arrogance gets in the way too often.”
“We don’t know anybody guilty of that now, do we,” asked Nestor. The man found his sword belt at the top of a pile of gear, cinching it around his waist.
Galen ignored the barbarian’s jibe. “Most of them end up getting caught. Those who don’t, though, turn out to be some of the best thieves in the land. Anyway, I figured what could be more daring than breaking into a jail, and stealing something from the evidence room? As it happened, the papers I stole could have implicated one of the highest ranking guild officers in some very unsavory crimes. I was handsomely rewarded for my deeds.”
The young thief shrugged and took his equipment from the place on the floor where it had been unceremoniously dumped. He threw on his pouches and weapons belt, then hurried back out the door.
“Remind me not to let him near anything I consider valuable,” whispered Tyrell. The mage was in awe of the newly revealed daring that his younger companion possessed. Nestor, likewise stunned, could only nod in agreement.
***
They slipped past the remaining guards easily enough. Nestor had to provide one more ‘distraction’, but he was only too happy to do so. They shortly found themselves back on the city streets. The night was still young, and the three friends soon roamed the dock ward.
“So where should we start looking for old sharp and pointy,” growled Nestor. The few people that the men had questioned told them that the docks had been mercifully quiet tonight.
“Well,” offered Tyrell, “we could always stick to the dark alleys and streets. I imagine Darian would show up sooner or later. I’m just afraid we’ll have to wait for him to attack someone before we are aware of his presence.”
“Anybody want to be the bait,” called Galen into the night. He cupped his hand to his ear. “No? I didn’t think so.”
“Darian’s vanity will make him show himself. He’s too proud not to let us find him,” said the wizard. “I think he wants to see us struggle along after him. We amuse him. Also, though, if the legends I’ve always heard about vampires are true, then he has to feed. He’ll eventually show up.”
“Indeed he will,” said Galen. The thief pointed to the shadowed recesses of an alley across the street. A tall, cloaked figure seemed to float in the darkness there. As the figure raised its head, the companions saw the telltale red glow of the vampire’s eyes. A hissing laugh echoed in the streets as the creature turned, and disappeared into the alley.
“Let’s get him,” roared Nestor. The barbarian drew his sword and started to charge past his friends.
Tyrell grabbed the warrior’s arm before he could rush by. “Hold on. Rushing in blindly will just get us all killed. He will have some sort of trap waiting for us to blunder into.” The mage raised his hands over his head and closed his eyes. The light of the moon seemed to gather around his hands as if he collected the illumination into his palms. He then released a globe of light that floated into the alley, lighting up the tight passage. Nestor let out a low whistle when he saw the dozens of rat-sized spiders that crawled around an open sewer grate. The arachnids were grey with green triangles on their backs.
“Turquet spiders,” said Nestor. “Nasty little beasts. I’ve seen them attack horses, and their venom is deadly enough to take one down.” He stomped on one that had crawled too near the party. The warrior took a street lantern from a post and hurled it into the tangle of spiders. The lantern broke, splashing flaming oil all around the grate. The fire shriveled most of the dangerous arachnids, while the three men were able to crush the few that remained.
“So, do we go after Darian now,” asked Galen.
“Do we have a choice,” replied Tyrell. The mage examined the opening to the sewer to be sure that no other dangers lurked nearby poised to attack. Confident that it was safe, he lowered himself into the hole. Nestor squeezed his broad shoulders through next, and Galen lightly dropped through into the muck beneath the city streets.
The sewer tunnel stretched off into the darkness both before and behind them. The stench was nauseating. Disgusting things that they didn’t even want to think about floated past their legs as they stood in the knee-deep filth.
“So which way do we go,” asked Nestor as he looked down each passage.
“I don’t know. Let’s start walking,” said Tyrell. “Keep your eyes open though. I’m hoping that we can find Kellen quickly, and get the hell out of here. If anyone has another idea, now is the time.” He looked at Galen who simply shrugged. “Well, then, the longer
we stand around here, the farther away from us Darian gets.”
The three men sloshed down the tunnel. They stumbled occasionally, as their footsteps often found less solid purchase than they expected. Moonlight filtered in through grates in the street above every so often, although the sights they saw made them thankful for the darkness again.
Nestor suddenly stopped, clutching Tyrell’s arm. He strained to listen and look ahead into the gloom. Galen, who was perfectly at home in the shadows, had vanished, but the mage knew that the young cutpurse was somewhere close by.
“Hold a moment. I thought I heard something splashing around up there.” The barbarian walked a little further down the tunnel, beckoning for the mage to follow.
“Do you think it might be more zombies,” whispered Tyrell.
“No, something smaller, but it sounds like there are a lot of them.” They took a few steps more when Tyrell stopped them again.
“I hear it now also,” he said.
“Something just brushed by my leg,” said Galen from somewhere off to the side.
“Considering where we are,” said Nestor, “you probably don’t want to know what it was.”
“Gods above, look,” called Tyrell. He pointed down the tunnel to the next patch of light. A roiling mass of rats, insects, and sewer snakes raced towards them like a tidal wave. The chirps and hisses rose steadily into a crescendo that drowned out the slurps and squishes of the sewer. Thousands of needle-sharp teeth, claws, and pincers flashed in the brief hint of moonlight.
“Run,” yelled Nestor as he shoved the mage back the way they had come from. Galen exploded out of the darkness, running as fast as he could through the clinging slime. The barbarian glanced over his shoulder at the advancing horde, pushing himself faster through the sewer filth as the vermin neared.
Galen reached the ladder first and pulled himself rapidly up the rungs. “Someone closed the grate again!” He hammered his fist into the metal, but a newly forged lock held the portal shut. “Dammit, I can’t reach the lock to pick it.” He dropped back into the sludge below with Tyrell. Nestor ran up beside them.
