BlackWing: First Ordinance, Book 3

by Connie Suttle

  Wanting to weep for the souls he displaced in order to take a body for a few days before discarding it, I watched as Lafe dressed head to toe in black leather, strapped his blades to his back, walked silently out the back door and disappeared into the night.

  * * *

  He is a master of the blade and of stealth. He'll be fine, Terrett reassured me when I began to fret hours later.

  "Has he ever been out this long?" I whispered. Terrett and I were locked inside Terrett's small room, huddled in a corner. Lafe had instructed us to disappear into the attic if anyone tried to break into the shop to capture anyone inside. It wasn't our capture that I worried about that night.

  Cayetes only hired the worst of the worst—one only had to walk the streets of Gungl to see the damage they left behind, provided the one wounded in the attack survived. Missing limbs were a specialty of Cayetes' men, led by a hulking giant called Bleek. Rumor had it he belonged to a four-armed race and could wield four blades at once.

  The thought of such a man terrified me.

  The sound of the back door closing had me off the floor and running. Without doubt as to who it was, I also understood he was wounded.

  Lafe didn't know until that night just what it was I could truly do.

  Terrett keened behind me as we slid into the small kitchen—Lafe lay huddled on the floor, his blood everywhere as he clutched his arm and side.

  "Get back—I'm dying," Lafe gritted. "There's nothing you can do."

  "Sometimes, it pays to know the strengths of your allies," I said, dropping to my knees. Already I was glowing with light as I gripped Lafe's arm and devoted all my energy to healing his wounds.

  * * *

  "Master LaFranza is ill, come back next week," I said. This customer, ignoring the closed sign on the door, knocked anyway, and kept knocking until Terrett and I went to answer it.

  "Huh," the customer, a man already drunk at midday, blinked hazy eyes at me.

  "Turn around and go," I ordered, pointing toward the street. "Huh," he said again and wobbled away.

  "Drunks and fools," I muttered, shutting the door and locking it again.

  Both, Terrett informed me.

  When we got back to Lafe's bedroom, he was awake and sitting up on the bed. I wasn't surprised; the drunk's knocking would have wakened the dead and the deaf.

  "You're more talented than I thought," Lafe lurched to his feet.

  "I can't manufacture the blood you lost; that's why you're still weak," I pointed out as sternly as I could. "You really ought to get back in bed."

  "The virsee ordering the sursee?" he lifted a dark eyebrow and managed a scowl.

  "Where your health is concerned, I may be the sursee," I snapped.

  "Is that how it is?" I followed close behind him as he walked unsteadily toward the kitchen, then sat on the stool in the corner. He and I both knew the short walk had drained him.

  "Fish and rice?" Lafe asked, his voice hopeful.

  "Lamb and rice," I replied. "Terrett worked hard on the lamb. It should be quite tender in the sauce."

  "Good." Lafe ended up eating one-handed from his bowl after I scooted his stool to the kitchen counter. The arm I'd healed lay in his lap—it would take a few days for him to comfortably use it again. At least the hole in his side was healed and didn't bother him as much, although his breath hitched now and then.

  "Well, sursee healer, when will I be well enough to get back to work?" he dropped his chopsticks with a sigh.

  "Perhaps four days—if you push it—and I know you will."

  "You know me that well already?"

  "I can see it in your face. The scowl you're wearing says it all."

  "Well, then, four days it is. Terrett, will you lend a shoulder to help me back to bed?"

  I watched as Terrett draped Lafe's good arm over his shoulders and then walked slowly down the hall with his charge. I shook my head and went to the sink to wash Lafe's bowl.

  * * *

  I heard something at the market today, Terrett informed me later, as we sat together on the stoop outside the back door. To them, I am just a mute who cannot carry tales, Terrett added. I nodded—I understood his frustration at being overlooked simply because he didn't speak—my past had seen to that.

  What did they say? I asked.

  There is a meeting at dark hour tonight. I overheard one vendor telling another. The meeting is to be held behind the abandoned magistrate, he added.

  Once, Vogeffa II had been a reasonable world, until it was overrun by criminals; most of them fleeing Vogeffa I when a stronger faction gained control. Now it was a difficult place to live, unless you were different in some way. It was better if you frightened others—they tended to stay out of your way and were less likely to attempt to cheat you.

  To say that Vogeffa II and Gungl in particular drew an unusual crowd would be putting things in extremely mild terms.

  With my hair and wings regularly dyed black, I fit right in. Of course, most thought my wings mechanical in nature, but none had seen me fly. More than once, though, I'd knocked the curious in the nose with a wing when they thought to get too close to my feathers.

  Terrett, too, had to show his other side upon occasion, and that in itself served to frighten even the toughest he might meet.

  Sirenali were amphibious, as well as capable of shifting. Terrett could grow dark scales and sharp teeth if he chose to do so. It made me glad to be his friend and not his enemy.

  I can fly to the meeting and watch from a rooftop, I said, coming back to our conversation.

  Dangerous, Terrett shook his head.

  Don't we need to know what the meeting is about?

  Probably.

  Then I should go. I can glide in—they'll only think it an owl chasing mice if they hear anything.

  The last thing I want is for you to be in danger, Terrett insisted.

  I can fly away just as easily as I fly in, I reminded him. I might even be able to carry you with me.

  Do you think so?

  It's not far, I said. It wasn't. The abandoned magistrate was once a court of law—when such a thing was accepted on Vogeffa II.

  Now it was street law and strong fists, guns or steel.

  Lafe will kill us, Terrett pointed out.

  Lafe can barely walk to the kitchen, I said.

  True. We have an hour, Terrett said. How long will it take you to fly if you carry me?

  Only a few minutes, as you measure time, I said. We don't have to stay for the whole thing if we learn what we want in the first few moments.

  Agreed.

  Good.

  * * *

  With his arms and legs wrapped around my body, I carried Terrett with me while I flew to the designated meeting place. We were early enough and my gliding silent enough that none heard when we dropped softly onto a nearby rooftop.

  A fire burned at the center of an old, broken fountain, allowing us to watch as a crowd gathered below us. Some brought their drink with them, passing a bottle around while the crowd grew larger. Firelight glittered in eyes and on bottles as the courtyard filled with people.

  What I knew was this—Lafe hadn't been approached. I noticed that many others were also missing. This crowd had been chosen by someone, and that immediately made me suspicious. When I relayed my thoughts to Terrett, he agreed.

  "Thank you for coming," a man stepped forward so he could be seen easily. I touched Terrett's shoulder and pointed—on the outskirts of the crowd and hidden in the shadows were several men.

  They were armed. I could see the gleam of metal here and there as the light of the fire reached them for a moment.

  Terrett nodded—the spokesman had his guards present. I'd never seen this man before and when I asked Terrett, he shook his head. This one was a stranger.

  "As you know," the man began, "Gungl suffered another raid by Cayetes' Storm last night."

  Many in the crowd grumbled—everyone in Gungl knew what Cayetes' men had done. Terrett knew of at least six
bodies dumped in the open sewer that ran through the outskirts of the city.

  "I have a solution," the man said.

  "What's that? We don't have an army to stand against Cayetes. Last night proved it," someone called out.

  "We don't need an army. If we have money, though, we can buy weapons to build an army."

  "Right. Why don't you buy a few star ships and freighters, too, while you're at it?" That question drew laughter.

  "All in good time," the man said. "We are men of Gungl. There are outlying villages and towns, where Cayetes' Storm never goes. They always strike here. Don't they?"

  General agreement was voiced by the crowd.

  "Yet," the man continued, "in those outlying villages, strong, young men, perfect for Cayetes' tastes, plow the ground. In fact, they're breeding like rabbits, out there."

  "What good does that do us?" someone hooted.

  "This is my suggestion," the man said. "We strike the villages. Take what Cayetes would choose for himself, place the other villagers under our thumb and sell the men to Cayetes when his Storm returns. I'd think he'd be happy to pay a fee for what he didn't have to hunt himself. Then we buy our weapons and arm ourselves better."

  "This is outrageous," someone stepped from the crowd to confront the man. "You're talking murder and selling our own to Cayetes."

  Before he could continue, a bowstring vibrated and an arrow pierced his throat. Terrett's hand was over my mouth as we watched the poor man die, clutching at the arrow and choking on his own blood.

  "Are there any others who wish to disagree?" the man asked.

  When nobody responded, he nodded. "First," he said, "We must take care of some business. Who wants to deal with LaFranza? He'll never agree to this and I hear he was wounded last night. Probably won't be too much of a fight, since he almost lost an arm."

  My heart stopped. They intended to kill those who hadn't been invited to this meeting. I had to do something.

  Quickly.

  Gathering my courage and struggling to stop my hands from trembling, I sent the call.

  They all answered. The rumbling started while the men gathered below turned about in surprise, searching for the source of the noise. When the squeaking began, they understood what was coming.

  It was already too late for them to flee.

  That night, those men were overrun by rats, mice and other vermin. Some men fell and were bitten when huge rats attempted to claw their way up cowering bodies—I didn't care.

  Amid the squeaking, scrabbling, cursing and shouting below, I hugged Terrett to me, lifted off the rooftop and flew toward Lafe's shop as fast as I could.

  It took moments for me to reach Lafe's shop. It would take longer to get him away. Terrett and I had to save his life or die defending it.

  Chapter 2

  Calling three horses to me is nothing compared to calling an army of rats and mice. A stable wasn't far from the shop; I could hear the horses galloping toward us as Terrett helped Lafe out the door and down the steps.

  He'd insisted on carrying his blades himself. Without stopping to gather anything else except Lafe's money chest, we climbed onto the backs of horses and held on tightly while I asked them to run.

  By the time we reached the outskirts of the city, half of it was burning behind us. I wanted to weep for Lafe's carefully collected tools and supplies—they'd be nothing but ash and warped metal by morning.

  I did know one thing, however. The man who'd called the meeting? He wasn't looking to appease Cayetes by selling able-bodied prisoners to him. He was already in Cayetes' employ. My enemy was stretching out his hand to destroy another world.

  * * *

  Quin?

  Terrett's voice filled my mind.

  "Hmmm?" I mumbled.

  Wake, please. There's a root in my back.

  "Oh. Sorry." I discovered that I'd slept against Terrett's shoulder following a long ride on horseback into the countryside. Lafe snored softly nearby, stretched out on spring grass that was beginning to grow nicely.

  Pulling stiffly away from Terrett, I watched as he dislodged himself from the tree we'd chosen to sleep under, once we were far enough away from Gungl that we didn't worry about followers.

  A river is near. Terrett walked a short distance before bending his back to get the kink out of it. I'll fish for breakfast, he added before heading in that direction.

  I'll check on Lafe, I said. Kneeling beside the prone Falchani, I listened carefully to his regular, deep breathing. He appeared to be fine, so I let him sleep while I went in search of wild onions and anything else I could find to eat.

  I could find anything, as long as there was something to find. That wasn't much in our current location. When Terrett returned, he carried two gutted fish in his hands and watercress in his shirt pocket. The plant he'd collected for me, so I could eat.

  By the time Terrett had a fire going and the fish cooking, Lafe woke and sat up stiffly. "Breakfast fish will be ready soon," I said. "Need help standing?"

  "No. I feel better today, even with the wild ride after midnight," he said. "I suppose the shop's gone?"

  I nodded. I knew it as surely as I knew anything. I knew, too, that many men had died during the night—men who hadn't deserved their deaths.

  "The man—at the meeting—he works for Cayetes," I said.

  "That means Cayetes isn't satisfied with owning Vogeffa I. He wants Vogeffa II as well," Lafe muttered. "I'll check the horses," he added. "Can you use your finding trick to get us to a village?" he tossed over his shoulder.

  "Oh, yes," I said. I'd already used my gift to search for the closest one.

  * * *

  I hadn't felt poor in a while. I recalled those memories while we rode toward the village after our meager breakfast. I'd used the end of a tiny branch to clean my teeth and chewed mint leaves I'd found to improve my breath—wild onions can be quite pungent on the tongue later if nothing is done about it.

  We didn't even have saddles for the horses we'd stolen.

  Yes, we were officially thieves, but those who'd forced us to leave Gungl would have stolen our lives. The theft of three horses was small in comparison, and an easy decision for me to make.

  * * *

  Vogeffa I

  Vardil Cayetes' Compound

  "We imagine LaFranza's two assistants got him away, but there's little they can do—his wounds were mortal—Bleek saw to that. He's likely dead from the ride out of Gungl." Magul offered his explanation to Vardil's most recent incarnation. "The meeting went well; we will have the other dissidents taken care of and the remaining citizens of Gungl allied with us or too afraid to disagree."

  "How long before you're ready to lead them into the outlying areas?" Vardil snapped. "You and Bleek brought me only six decent bodies, and I've already used this one," Vardil tapped his chest.

  "We've emptied Gungl of suitable replacements. You understand that, don't you? We've had this discussion," Magul said. "Unless you want to be easily identified by taking on deformed or mutated bodies, then we have to look outside Gungl. We've left the farmlands alone as they're feeding the city while acting without suspicion as your breeding grounds, but it's time to take what the planet has to offer. With enough bodies, we can move to another set of worlds elsewhere."

  "We have to find something suitable that isn't contaminated by that fucking poison," Vardil snapped. "You know I want Vic'Law, but I have to get there, first. Two applications have been denied already. I intend to take it anyway. I have spies and plans in place, but I need time to solve the problem of my changing appearance—I've hidden myself on Vogeffa I, but I already had control of it. Taking another world for my own will require a constant, recognizable presence. I can't keep changing faces every three days."

  Magul held his tongue. If Vardil hadn't dealt with Marid of Belancour when the wizard sought to sell the poison to begin with, Vardil wouldn't be searching for new bodies and new worlds that weren't tainted with it.

  Marid was dead and fi
ve years had passed since Vardil destroyed Siriaa, the source of the poison. The ranos cannon he'd paid to have constructed had blasted space dust from that infected world outward to land upon other worlds, spreading the poison for which none could find a cure.

  Wherever they moved, the new location would have to be checked and double-checked by Vardil's well-paid scientists, to verify that the new world was clear of the creatures responsible for manufacturing the poison. That endeavor took them away from more lucrative activities, but Vardil valued his life above designer drug production and a host of other things.

  Vic'Law had already been cleared and approved by those scientists, but Vardil could have a fight on his hands—Vic'Law was already governed by crime families and he'd have to plan his takeover carefully. Likely, he would need a temporary home while his plot to take Vic'Law blossomed.

  Yes, they understood the creatures and their poison better, now, but that was little consolation against the fact that it was unstoppable, once it infected a world. Vardil and his empire needed to get away now, before anyone was infected with the creatures responsible.

  The poison had reached Vogeffa I; that was the primary reason Vardil searched for a new location. It was only a matter of time before Vogeffa II was also infected.

  "I spoke with Bleek—he says the same thing about LaFranza—that he delivered a mortal wound," Vardil gruffed. "I'm no longer concerned about that particular problem. Take your army into the countryside; leave only those alive whose bodies I will appreciate. Make sure they're not wounded severely—I hate going into a body that's ill or not fully functional."

  "I understand," Magul bowed to Vardil. "Your command will be implemented immediately."

  * * *

  Le-Ath Veronis

  Avii Castle

  "Do you suppose they'll ever get tired of staring at us?" Gurnil asked. Below the castle, three tour boats floated on the waters surrounding the giant bowl, filled with tourists who were likely recording images of Avii Castle on their comp-vids.

  "Jurris uses the money to fund our government and pay for incidentals," Justis shook his head. "I just wish he'd stop selling tickets for the early risers to ogle my troops when we train in the mornings."