What should have been a happy occasion to celebrate between her and her mates was tarnished by her captivity.
She grew morose as she imagined how happy Kyx would have been. Her sweet mate. She blinked back her tears so no one in that room would see her grief. She couldn’t allow Edwar to destroy their baby. More than ever, Arie could feel the ominous ticks of time passing by in sync with the grandfather clock. She jumped as the clock chimed the hour.
29
Warol leaped with ease on top of the edge of the wall. He couldn’t imagine what humans thought they were keeping out. Maybe it worked against common predators, but certainly not against Ragoru. Every time he saw a sanctuary village in passing with its silly walls, he’d chuckled to himself, but he was surprised the Citadel itself had such flimsy protection. He looked down and saw the eight glowing eyes of his brothers waiting in the darkness below. He knew they would be able to see the yellow gleam of his own eyes and know that he’d made it safely.
He peered into the mass of the Citadel, the somber buildings rising like shadows everywhere. There had to be hundreds of structures nestled there, intersected with stone roads. The scent of filth and human waste drifted up to him, and he caught sight of small rodents scurrying through the dark nearby. An unfamiliar creature with a long tail jumped onto a short wall between buildings, its eyes reflecting in the light of a street lantern. It looked at him, arched its back and hissed with anger before bounding away. Warol watched the small predator dart between the buildings.
With no other disturbance nearby, he slipped off the wall, aware of his brothers as they dropped down beside him. Refuse littered everywhere, food rotting. It was no wonder there were so many rodents. Warol curled his lip with disgust as he picked his way around the worst of it. He certainly did not want to step in anything foul.
“This is disgusting,” Kyx growled in a low voice, but didn’t say anything further as they moved quietly on the narrow roads, keeping as far as they could from the lit areas. Warol slowed, his ears drawing forward as they passed a skinny female sleeping in a small sheltered area, two tiny, painfully thin offspring nestled against her. The small family was dirty and clearly starving. His heart wrenched at the sight.
In all his revolutions spent hating humans, he never knew there were those who suffered among them in such a fashion. This female had no mate to care for her. Somewhere a Ragoru triad would have been joyous to receive a female and rogs into their den, and in this human Citadel they were abandoned to sleep in the street and live among the vermin.
Rager’s hand dropped on his shoulder. “Keep moving, Warol. There is nothing we can do for them.” He turned his head and met his lead’s eyes.
“Maybe not, but we must spread the word among the triads and here as we can in the Citadel. There are so many lonely triads, and females here who are not adequately cared for.”
Rager inclined his head in agreement and with reluctance Warol moved on, leaving the small family asleep and unaware of their passing. After some turns, some of them claustrophobically small for Warol’s comfort, they came to the main stone path. His eyes widened as tall buildings stood all around them. Now that they were among them, everything seemed even bigger.
How were they ever going to find Arie? He couldn’t even guess at where to start. Any one of the large structures could contain their mate, and with the overwhelming muddle of scents in the Citadel he was at a loss at how to even begin to track her.
A movement and a loud clatter at the corner of intersecting paths attracted his attention. Two males pushed a human of diminutive size. Not as small as the younglings he’d spied with their mother, but doubtless an older human offspring. Without waiting for permission from Rager, Warol crept closer. One of the bulkier males shoved the youngling again, his voice threatening.
“Look here, kid. I gave you until midnight to bring me your profits, didn’t I? I think I was being quite generous with you, considering you owe us a debt.”
The young male’s voice wavered with fear. “Sorry, Jase. I’ve been trying. It was slow today, and I still have to give a small tithe to the Thieves Guild on my honor.”
The other male snorted. “Thieves Guild, is it? What’re they going to do for you now?”
A small smile twisted on the youth’s face, showing where he was missing teeth. “Mister, take care now how you speak of the Guild. You may be the night watchman on the payroll of the Order, but you are only alive because the Guild suffers your existence while they aim for bigger fish.”
“That so?” the first male laughed and lifted a blade, the edge catching the light. Although Warol had seen the bone blades used by Emala and Arie, this one gleamed unnaturally. “And where are they now? Don’t care enough about one boy to save him, that’s what I see.”
The young male’s shoulder’s drooped, but then he lifted his head, his eyes flashing with rebellion. “Be assured they’ll pay back any injury you do to me. The Guild looks after their own.”
The blade moved close to the thin neck and Warol decided he had seen enough. With a low growl, he pushed from the shadows. He heard Rager behind him and knew his brothers would back him up. Warol saw little more than the white of the male’s eyes as he gripped the struggling male with his lower two arms while his upper hands wrenched the head. The crack was obscenely loud in the quiet of the street. Any protest that the other male would have made was silenced after his initial shout when Rager effortlessly tore the male’s throat out with the claws of one hand. Warol winced as his lead’s icy gaze narrowed on him, but did not regret his decision.
The youth’s mouth dropped open, his eyes wide with awe. Warol wondered if the young male would now call for help. Warol had not thought that part out. All it would take was a shout and he could alert humans nearby. Still, Warol could not bring himself to kill the youngling. His muscles tensed in preparation to flee but to his surprise a wide smile broke over the dirty face.
“Ragoru. Bless me, an entire triad here in the Citadel! I’m Tim, at your service. I’m indebted to you for your help there. My gods, the Order would shit kittens if they knew you were here.” He leaned forward eagerly. “Are you here to destroy the Order? To kill the huntsmen?”
Warol cocked a nervous ear toward his brothers, uncertain how to respond. He didn’t scent any lie on the male, but it could still be human trickery at work. Rager stepped forward. The human hesitated briefly at the sight of their triad’s lead, but Warol didn’t sense a significant amount of fear coming from him.
“We are searching for our mate,” Rager growled down.
The boy’s brow knit together. “I hadn’t heard tale of any female Ragoru being brought into the Citadel by the Order. Or any word of Ragoru at all beyond the usual complaints from the huntsmen.”
“Our mate is human,” Kyx said with a smile. Though terribly scarred, the boy returned the gesture and grew noticeably more comfortable. A thin hand went up to his stringy mane to scratch his scalp.
“A human, you say? That sure is something. I dare imagine many women would be happy to have a triad care for them rather than working as Guild beggars. We all serve our purpose, mind you, but it is a hard life being a female alone.”
“We’ve noticed,” Warol bit out. “Our mate doesn’t look like the starving females we’ve seen here. Have you seen any new females brought recently into the Citadel? Huntsmen stole her. She would have likely arrived in their company. We caught up to one of her captors already.”
“I can’t say I have, but the Order is unpredictable. I am sure someone in the Guild may have seen something, or have received some bit of interesting news that could pertain to your female. A human stolen from the Ragoru would certainly be gossip among my brethren.”
“Would we be able to meet with them?” Rager asked, his interest piqued.
“If you can wait near here, perhaps down that alley there,” he gestured to a narrow dark path. “Someone’ll notice if you stand about the main street too long. I can return within an hour or two
with word. I suspect they might be interested in meeting you, especially if you have a personal grudge against the Order.”
Rager turned his head toward the alley, his nostrils flaring, but he begrudgingly inclined his head. Warol had no doubt that his brother wanted nothing more than to be taken to the Guild immediately. Everything in Warol demanded it, but Rager wasn’t as impulsive as he was, and for once he would yield to his lead’s decision.
“Very well. We will wait here for your return.”
“I will be quick, and I will be certain to tell them of your aid against the Order’s night guard. I am certain that will bend their favor toward you. The Guild is no friend to the Order here, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Be quick about it,” Rager snapped and the boy saluted them with a cheerful smile on his face before turning on his heel and running down the stone path the humans called a street. His lithe form darted between structures and disappeared.
As they moved into the shadows, Warol turned his ears toward Rager. “Should we trust him?”
“I got no sense of deceit from him,” Kyx offered. Warol nodded his agreement. Everything the male had projected had been surprisingly earnest and delivered with only a minimal, healthy amount of fear, enough to make the male cautious in his dealings with their triad.
“We will wait as asked, but we will be on our guard. Although I doubt the male is any threat, we cannot know the intentions of this Guild. We are not here to serve their purpose. We are only here to find our mate.”
Time passed slowly and Warol could see a hint of the approaching dawn on the horizon when a familiar form scampered at the front of the alley. Cautiously their triad moved toward Tim. He seemed to dance from foot to foot with the impatience of youth, his smile broad as he greeted them.
“Good news,” he whispered. “The Guild Master says he’s willing to meet with you. I’m to bring you to the Thieves Den post-haste, so keep to the shadows and follow me!”
Without a further word, he raced down the road, leaving the Ragoru to follow. Tim was such a slight figure that many times Warol almost lost sight of him as he ducked into roads and alleys. He turned to look back only once to verify they were close behind when he launched himself over a short wall. The pursuit seemed to take them on a winding path through the Citadel. The further they got, the less sturdy everything appeared. Small stone structures were intersected with flimsy wooden ones, lamplight glowing between the cracks in more than one case.
Finally, Tim disappeared among an odd cluster of people gathered in front of a narrow entrance. There was more than one startled look, and a few gasps, but the people eagerly made way for them. Warol could still feeling his skin itch where their eyes watched them approach a long tunnel.
Warol paused at the mouth of the stone tunnel dropping down beneath the city. Even Kyx drew back slightly, his ears flattening with his wary hesitation. If they entered, there was an increased chance for ambush. Tim’s voice echoed up the tunnel.
“Come on, then! What are you waiting for? Just down this way.”
Rager huffed at them, shaking his head. He clearly didn’t like it either but rallied their triad. “We have no other choice. Stay alert and proceed with caution, but we must continue on if we have any hope at all of finding our mate.”
Rager led the way, following after the male, leaving Kyx and Warol to follow. They exchanged a pained grimace and followed their lead down into the inky depths. There was little light except that which was emitted from random torches set up at intervals further along in the tunnel. While they had little problem seeing the dank interior of the tunnel, Warol wondered how any human would be able to find their way, as the trails seemed to twist and branch off. It was only by following Tim that they were not lost.
Tim appeared suddenly before them, his face ghoulish in the light as he popped from around a corner. “Glad you are keeping up. The Thieves Labyrinth is a bad place to get lost. I’ve been lost here a time or two myself, when I was young, before I got the hang of things. Come on, just a little further.”
After many twists of the tunnel, it opened into to a massive lit cavern. Warol’s eyes widened at the sight. Bright and colorful fabric hung from various structures. A group of females nearby dressed in drapes of fabric clinging low on their bodies giggled to each other as the Ragoru passed. Their faces were painted garishly in a manner that reminded him of images his second father produced of the Fathers’ Court of the Dead.
Everywhere, humans stared and parted, many of them gaunt, and more than one heavily scarred or missing limbs. They made their way to a great stone chair draped with bright purple fabrics. A large human sat upon it, his frame lean but strong. His long, dark mane was bound tightly behind his head, and a long scar ran from the top of his face down to his chin, bisecting one blond, milky eye, where it disappeared into a beard. He leaned forward as Tim whispered in his ear and grinned down at them, his scar puckering devilishly.
“So, these are the Ragoru, come to our fair city in search of their mate,” he paused as a titter of murmuring voices echoed throughout the crowed assembled around them. “I am Cyrus, the Master of the Guild. I bid you welcome to the Court of the Thieves’ Guild.” He stood before his throne and swept a bow, his lips turned up in a mischievous smile.
30
The maid tightened the straps of Arie’s corset with brutal efficiency. Corsets were a new thing to her. Never in the sanctuary village did any but the most fashionable women bother with them. Few even made it in with the goods brought in by the merchants, and from what she’d remembered none of them had been similar to the strangling cut of the one she was being forced into under her grandmother’s steely-eyed supervision. Arie suspected they were “out of mode.” She refrained from snickering as she imagined just what all those vainglorious women in the village would have thought of that.
“Tighter,” her grandmother snapped at the maid, thumping her ivory-topped cane on the floor. “We need to tame those curves into something respectable.”
Arie winced. While she’d never been thin, she’d put on weight thanks to her mates over the winter. She braced a hand against her stomach. “I can’t breathe as it is.”
“Then learn to take smaller breaths,” came Lady Vera’s dismissive reply.
“Madam, it is not going to get any tighter than this,” the maid whispered apologetically. Arie listened as her grandmother harrumphed in irritation.
“Well I suppose it will have to do then. Hopefully we don’t have to let out any of the seams.”
A swath of pale dusky pink fabric dropped over Arie’s head, making her sway slightly on her feet, disoriented. Finally, the fabric was tugged into place, and the maid circled around to the front and fastened the small pearl buttons. Although the color was somewhere between pink and brown, it was still brighter than what she expected. Certainly, it wouldn’t have passed without criticism. Only the darkest hues were deemed acceptable by the council.
Once her gown was properly laced and buttoned, the maid returned with several small jars of pigments. She opened each and set them on the table one by one. The maid regarded her with pinched lips before picking up a pot of white pigment. This was followed by a white powder dusted liberally over Arie’s face and neck, making her sneeze. A delicate pink was applied to her lips, and an inky black face pigment was applied to her eyes and eyebrows. A loose pink powder was then applied to her eyelids and cheekbones. Only then was the heavy, ornate wig settled on her head. Pearls cascaded down from her the hair, swinging with her every movement. At long last, the maid stepped back and observed her work with a satisfied look of pride.
Arie stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked every inch the highborn lady, her skin rendered flawless from the paint and powder, every freckle covered. It was like staring at a stranger. A wild impulse ran through her at that moment to throw the wig to the ground and scrub her face clean of the ridiculous paints and powders. A floral perfume, this one reminding her of honeysuckle, was sprit
zed over her wig and bodice as she stared at herself balefully. Her grandmother just behind her wore a smug smile that made Arie grit her teeth.
The door creaked open, and one of the guards stepped back to admit a young woman who appeared to be barely twenty. Her brown hair was piled artfully on her head, and her deep green gown draped her elegantly, but her expression was uncertain as she entered. The girl bobbed a quick curtsy before clasping her nervous fingers together.
“Grandmother, you sent for me?” The girl’s voice was barely above a whisper and a dull flush swept over her round cheeks.
“Madelin, stop gawking and get over here. You might as well make yourself useful. This could have been you had you put forth any effort to gain the attention of the First Elite.”
Arie watched as Madelin’s blush deepened to crimson. “My apologies, Grandmother. I tried.”
“There is no try—there is only succeed,” their grandmother commented airily. “Madelin, this is your cousin Arie. You are to keep an eye at her and accompany her at all times during her engagement banquet. You will be there representing our entire family, so please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t do anything to embarrass me.”
Arie’s heart went out to the girl. Clearly she had spent many more years under the thumb of their grandmother and that had squashed her spirit, turning Madelin into a timid young woman. Lady Vera’s tone turned sharp as she addressed Arie.
“Madelin is the only daughter born to your Uncle Farwel, my youngest son. She is, in fact, my only granddaughter, aside from yourself. I have fifteen grandsons, many of whom you will be meeting at the banquet and during subsequent parties held here at the manor. Fortunately, my grandsons have more backbone than Madelin here. They have all become huntsmen in their own right. In fact, four of them accompanied Huntsman Merik in retrieving you. Madelin will introduce you.”
Red: A Dystopian World Alien Romance Page 23
