Darkblade Justice: An Epic Fantasy Murder Mystery (Hero of Darkness Book 7)

by Andy Peloquin

  Kodyn hit the rooftop beside her and took off running a heartbeat before her. Ilanna couldn’t help smiling. Looks like he inherited my competitive nature as well. She pushed herself hard to keep up with her son, but Kodyn was determined to outpace her. Her gut clenched as he leapt across an expanse she couldn’t hope to cross. His longer legs gave him an advantage, but she also recognized his determination to one-up her. It wasn’t easy living in the shadow of the Hawk that had defeated the Black Spire, stolen a fortune from the most secure location in Praamis, and single-handedly saved the Night Guild from the Bloody Hand and Duke Phonnis both.

  Her son was driven by a need to make his own mark on the Guild. She and Ria both tried their best to keep an eye on him, keep him out of trouble, but his duties to House Hawk took him far from their protective shelter.

  And if he’s to be a true man, he will need to take his own risks. Ilanna could only hope he didn’t choose paths too dangerous to escape.

  Kodyn leapt to the next rooftop and skidded to a halt far too close to the edge for Ilanna’s comfort. “It was here, Mom.” He was barely breathing hard, but Ilanna felt as if she’d just raced across the Windy Plains.

  Ilanna crouched and studied the rooftop. The last traces of daylight had faded, but she produced her beamer lantern—a fist-sized glass ball filled with a strange alchemical liquid that shone like fire. She swept the glow of the lantern across the clay tiles.

  “There.” Her gut clenched as she saw the crimson droplets spattering the roof a few paces from the chimney.

  “So Kindan did wound him!” Pride echoed in Kodyn’s voice.

  “A serious one, by the looks of it.” Ilanna estimated he’d lost a few cups of blood. “If he’s wounded, he can’t have gotten far.”

  She swept the beamer around until she spotted more blood droplets. “They go this way.”

  They followed the trail of blood across the rooftops, careful to move slow enough to spot every rust-colored splash. She’d spent enough time training with the Hounds to have at least rudimentary tracking skills, and those skills told her something about the trail she followed was wrong. Given the amount of blood on the tiles, the man should be bleeding out quickly, his strength fading. Yet as she followed the trail, the droplets grew more spread out, their number decreasing rather than increasing.

  What the bloody hell? Even if the man had bound up the wound, he’d lose blood fast enough to slow him down. So why in the Watcher’s name does it look like he’s speeding up?

  Yes, something about this was very wrong, indeed.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Hunter raced through the alley in the direction he guessed the killers had gone. He’d only caught a flash of movement, but that was enough to set him on the right path. If he moved fast enough, he could gain ground on his prey. Once he had them in his sights, they wouldn’t get away from him.

  He drew in a deep breath through his nostrils, tasting the air for the scent of the man he sought, but recoiled at the reek of offal, rotted vegetables, stagnant rainwater, and the many more foul odors that clogged the narrow lane. Not going to find them by smell, not in this stinking alleyway.

  The muck-covered back streets of Praamis twisted and turned in a confusing maze, forcing the Hunter to pause at the next intersection and scan ahead for any sign of movement. His eyes roamed the near-darkness of the alleys, and despair gripped his heart in a fist of ice for a long moment before he spotted the flash of a cloak disappearing around a corner a hundred paces ahead of him.

  Mud spattered the Hunter’s boots and legs as he ran, but he was beyond caring. He couldn’t lose his target again.

  He raced up the lane and hurtled around the corner just in time to see the figure ducking into another side street forty paces ahead. The Hunter crossed the distance in mere seconds, but when he reached the street, he found it dead-ended against three brick walls.

  Night hung thick in the narrow alley, the shadows too deep and dark for his eyes to penetrate. He growled in frustration—he hadn’t thought to bring a lantern, not even a fire striker. He felt his way along the walls, but his questing fingertips found no doors or windows.

  Impossible! The man had entered the alley mere seconds before he had. Not even the Abiarazi could disappear into thin air, so he had to have gone somewhere. The bloody question is where?

  He drew in a deep breath, then pricked up his ears for the slightest noise. A quiet splash sounded to his right. It came not from the muddy street, for there had been a hollow echo to the sound.

  Of course! He cursed himself for an idiot. The sewers.

  The city of Praamis was famous for its sewer system—a remnant from the days of the Serenii, some whispered. For law-abiding citizens, the complex maze of tunnels, drains, and underground rivers served as a way to dispose of waste. But for people like the Hunter, the sewer system of Praamis offered another way to get around.

  He felt his way along the wall again, this time using his feet to test the walls and ground for any openings. Sure enough, he found an uncovered opening just three paces from the mouth of the dead-end alley. He’d been so focused on searching for a door or window that he’d missed the opening.

  Lowering one foot, he found the metal rung of a ladder, and a savage grin split his face. Got you, you bastard!

  The killer had climbed down the ladder less than a minute earlier. If the Hunter hurried, he could catch up before the man got lost in the maze of sewers. He cursed himself for forgetting a light. He didn’t know his way around the underground, and he wasn’t certain even his innate sense of direction could keep him on track without any illumination.

  Better hurry, then.

  Ten rungs down, his boots splashed onto cold, foul-smelling liquid. He forced himself to ignore the reek, the soft squishing beneath his feet, and the slime covering the wall. Instead, he kept his mind fixed on hunting down the killer. Drowning in sewage would be a fitting end for the man—or demon—that had murdered children and left their bodies abandoned like rubbish.

  He tried to keep his movement as quiet as possible, but his boots splashed or squelched with every step. Finally, he found a suitable solution to reduce the noise: straddle the curving sides of the tunnel just above the sewage level. The position made movement terribly uncomfortable, but at least he could once again hear any noise coming from ahead.

  His heart leapt as his keen ears picked up a quiet splashing in the distance. He was on the right track. Got you, you bastard!

  He ran in a strange spider-legged crouch, his pace slower than he’d like but faster than he’d manage in the water. The sound of his heartbeat and the steady thump, thump of his boots on the stone walls nearly drowned out the splashing of his target, but he forced himself to keep going.

  Then he spotted it: a faint glimmer fifty yards ahead of him. But not one light. Two, three, five. More and more lights intersected in the tunnel ahead, illuminating the silhouettes of hooded, robed figures. The Hunter counted ten tiny lights, like fireflies in the night, and ten people far ahead.

  What in the bloody hell? His mind raced. What if it’s not just one killer, but many?

  It wouldn’t be his first encounter with bloodthirsty groups—he’d wiped out one such in Voramis that had killed in the name of the Bloody Minstrel, controlling the population to avoid disease. Those kills had been ritualistic, and the Serenii symbol carved into the children’s chests and the strange, smooth plaster casing on the victim’s head had the same feel. This went beyond simple murder. Whatever twisted logic drove them, these people killed with a purpose.

  That changes nothing. The Hunter bared his teeth in a snarl. This ends now.

  He picked up speed and charged toward the figures at the far end of the tunnel, but one by one they disappeared around a corner, taking their lights with them. The Hunter chafed at the slow speed of his awkward spider-legged run. He couldn’t lose them, but he couldn’t alert them to his presence until he was certain they wouldn’t escape. If the demon was among them—an
d chances were good that the Abiarazi would be leading this bloodthirsty pack of murderers—he’d need the element of surprise to take the bastard down. His human followers would be easy prey.

  But when the Hunter reached the intersection, he found it dark, without so much as a glimmer of light to indicate the direction the killers had gone. He stifled a growl of frustration and forced himself to calm. He had to be closing in on them, so he just had to follow them until he caught sight of their lights again. Patience and persistence would be his greatest weapon in pursuit.

  He listened again, and his heart leapt at the faint sound of splashing coming from ahead. Seconds later, a metallic clang echoed down the tunnel, followed by the creak of rusted hinges. A wisp of wind washed across his face.

  The Hunter’s stomach bottomed out. If they closed that door, he’d never find them in the darkness. Their lights were all he had to guide him now.

  He abandoned all attempt at stealth and raced through the darkness, his boots splashing water all around him. His arms pumped and he poured every shred of speed into his legs. He nearly stumbled as his foot caught on something solid in the dark, but he caught his balance, righted himself, and raced on.

  The creak came from ahead and to the right, and the Hunter slowed as he felt a subtle change in the air current in the tunnel. The clang of the closing door sounded somewhere ahead of him, echoing with a terrible finality. The wispy breeze fell still and the Hunter stood alone in the darkness.

  Keeper’s teeth! He drew in a deep breath, ignoring the foul odors assaulting his nostrils, and replayed that sound in his mind. The door was somewhere ahead of him, no more than twenty or thirty paces up the tunnel. All he had to do was feel his way along the stone walls until he found the metal door.

  How hard could that be?

  He chose the right-hand side of the tunnel at random, and ran his hands along the wall. Time and damp had coated the stones in a layer of slime that twisted his stomach, but he forced himself to ignore the slippery sensation. Eyes closed, he worked his way down the tunnel, feeling his way with his feet and counting every step. He hadn’t found a door by the time he reached fifty, so he crossed the tunnel and began working his way along the other wall.

  He’d taken five steps when light blossomed in the tunnel behind him. He whirled, momentarily blinded by the brilliance, but that didn’t stop him drawing his sword.

  “Bloody hell!” shouted a voice from behind the light source.

  The Hunter blinked and stared into the red and blue glow coming from ahead of him. His heart sank at the man’s next words.

  “We found him!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The trail of blood went dry within ten paces. Ilanna swept the beam of lamplight back and forth across the rooftop, even sent Kodyn over the nearby gap to search the next roof. All in vain.

  Damn it! They’d lost Kindan’s killer.

  “Any luck?” Kodyn asked as he returned.

  Ilanna shook her head. “The blood drops simply disappear here.” She glanced over the edge of the roof, and though her beamer helped to push back the evening gloom filling the alleyway below, she found only an empty, rubbish-strewn lane. Nothing to give even the slightest indication of where the killer had gone.

  Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do next. With any luck, Aisha’s found something and Ria will be waiting in my office with information on Chantelle. Or the Scorpions have located the poisoner. Something, anything, to put an end to this fruitless search.

  She felt like a dog chasing its tail, and she’d grown tired of the pursuit. She needed to sink her teeth into something soon before she lost her patience.

  “We head back to the Aerie,” she told Kodyn. “There’s no point in searching for him now.”

  Kodyn looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at her face and he held his silence. The choice surprised Ilanna. There’d been a time, not long ago, when he’d have argued simply for the sake of defying her. That would be the action of a child, but evidently the young man before her knew when to hold his ground and when to accede.

  Ilanna shot a glance at her son as she ran beside him across the rooftops. He has grown up so much. Not just in body, but his mind as well. Watcher help anyone who gets in his way.

  She could only hope she’d be around to see that day. Life as Master Gold had its share of perils, enemies from both outside the Guild’s walls and within. If she failed to apprehend this murderer, Duke Phonnis would finally have his most fervent wish: he’d watch her hang in Watcher’s Square or brave the Field of Mercy.

  I’ll be damned if I give him that satisfaction. Anger burned hot and bright in her chest, lending wings to her feet. She soon left Kodyn behind, much to her son’s surprise. I’ll find this bloody killer if I have to turn over every stone in Praamis.

  Her gut tightened as she caught sight of light glimmering on a nearby rooftop. She hesitated, only a moment, until the illumination of a beamer lantern outlined the strong, confident face of Errik, Master Serpent. He stood in the midst of a group of eight Serpents, locked in conference with Shaw, Master of House Hound, and seven Hound Journeymen.

  Ilanna raced toward them. “House Masters, good of you to answer the summons.”

  Eighteen men and women turned toward her, hands dropping to weapons.

  Errik recognized her first. “Master Gold.” He straightened and removed his hand from the matching swords sheathed at his hips. “House Serpent stands ready.”

  “And House Hound.” Shaw stepped up beside Errik. “What brings the Guild Master to the rooftops at this hour?”

  Ilanna recounted Kodyn’s story of Kindan’s fight with the murderer, their search of the rooftops, and the mysterious blood spatter.

  “Perhaps your Hounds will have better luck tracking the killer than I.”

  A small smile twitched Shaw’s too-thin lips. “Perhaps.”

  Ilanna didn’t need to read minds to read his thoughts: she was a Hawk, skilled in the ways of third-story thieving, not a tracker. She could only hope his self-confidence paid off with results.

  “Travel in pairs,” Ilanna said to the assembled Journeymen. “The man we seek killed Kindan, and my son tells me he is far more skilled than we anticipated.”

  The Serpents muttered among themselves, their faces etched with anger. Kindan had been well-liked among not only his fellow Journeymen, but all in the Night Guild. He’d also numbered among the Serpents’ most skilled. Without a word, eight of the Serpents paired off with the eight Hounds.

  Kodyn stepped forward. “Will you permit me to join you in the hunt, Master Serpent? As the Guild Master says, it is better for us to travel in pairs. I would be honored to watch your back and aid in the search however I can.”

  Ilanna stiffened. She hated the idea of Kodyn hunting the murderer in the dark, but the look in his eyes told her he wouldn’t back down from this argument, not in front of the Hounds and Serpents. And he’d been clever to try and trap her with her own words and his choice to accompany Errik.

  Errik hesitated and shot a questioning glance at Ilanna. He’d grown fond of the boy and Ilanna knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to Kodyn. And, to make Kodyn the strong man he had the potential to be, she had to let him stretch his wings. She gave Errik an almost imperceptible nod.

  “I welcome the company, little Hawk.” From anyone else, the name would have been an insult. But Errik numbered among the very few people—aside from Ria and Ilanna—that knew the truth of Kodyn’s name. It had come from Khodein, the word for “hawk” in the language of the Twelve Kingdoms, chosen by the Al Hani-born midwife that had helped birth him.

  Errik raised his voice to address the gathered Serpents and Hounds. “We begin our search where the Guild Master said she found blood.” He placed a hand on Kodyn’s shoulder. “Lead the way, apprentice.”

  With a nod, Kodyn turned and raced off along the rooftops. The Serpents and Hounds fell in step behind him, trying their best to keep up on the unfamiliar territ
ory.

  Errik paused before leaving. “We’ll look, but if you didn’t find anything, I doubt the Hounds will.”

  “I know,” Ilanna said with a sigh, “but I can’t abide standing by and doing nothing.”

  Errik nodded. “The rest of my Serpents are with those Hounds and Foxes combing the sewers. With the Watcher’s help, we will find him, Ilanna.”

  She nodded. “Be safe, my friend. Keep him safe, too.”

  “With my life.” Errik gave her a little nod and turned away.

  She watched her friend leap off across a wide gulf between tiled roofs, then turned back to the window that led onto the Perch and into the Aerie.

  The descent to the hard-packed earth floor took longer than she remembered. Her arms, legs, and shoulders ached from the effort of supporting her weight, and the ropes left small blisters through the worn leather gloves. She determined to spend less time trapped behind a desk from now on—Darreth could always handle more responsibility. The man had an uncanny knack for plowing through piles of paperwork, reports, and messages in a fraction of the time it took her.

  Anything to get me out and about more.

  Exhaustion tugged at her limbs as she strode through the tunnels that led from House Hawk to her Guild Master chambers, but the sight of a Scorpion—a freckled, red-haired Journeyman by the name of Acaria—pushed the fatigue away.

  She raised an eyebrow as Journeyman Acaria giggled nervously and pushed her spectacles up onto her nose. Is that my imagination, or are those two flirting? She hadn’t thought the Night Guild held anyone as awkward as Darreth, but it seemed this Scorpion was her aide’s match.

  “Journeyman.” Ilanna called out. “I hope you bring good news.”

  Darreth leapt to his feet, his face an interesting shade of red. Acaria flushed an even deeper shade of crimson and stammered out, “Y-Yes, Master Gold.”

  When no information was forthcoming, Ilanna arched her eyebrow higher. “Well?”