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

by Andy Peloquin

  He drew in a deep breath. Kiara had learned the truth and accepted it. Evren had, too, as had Father Reverentus, and Hailen, when he’d been old enough to understand. Graeme had actually laughed—“That explains so much!” the fat alchemist had said.

  But what will she do? His eyes traveled over the people beside the Guild Master. What will they do?

  Their weapons couldn’t hurt him—they wielded steel, and the only source of iron in the room was the hasp holding Baronet Wyvern’s wardrobe closed—but he’d rather not have to fight the Night Guild and the demon if he could help it.

  Fuck it. He set his jaw, conclusion reached. Give them the truth, and let the dice fall as they may.

  “What I’m about to tell you is going to sound like the ravings of a madman.” He spoke in a slow voice, a wry smile on his lips. “But I will prove that I am telling the truth.”

  The Guild Master, Ilanna, cocked her head. “You have my attention.”

  He held her gaze. “How much do you know about the demons that once roamed this earth? During what you call the War of Gods.”

  Ilanna frowned. “Stories and legends.”

  “Perhaps.” The Hunter inclined his head. “Yet perhaps not.” He smiled at her incredulous look. “If I told you demons were real and living amongst us, you would call me a madman, wouldn’t you?”

  Ilanna shrugged. “The Illusionist’s touch manifests in many ways.”

  “Then I won’t waste my words.” He smiled. “Do you have a lamp or light?”

  Ilanna narrowed her eyes, but drew out two glass globes from her pouch. When she held them together, one glowed red and the other blue, filling the room with a strange mixed glow.

  “Hold it up to my face.” He stepped closer to her.

  The movement elicited a growl from the hulking blonde man and a snarl from the warrior woman behind the Guild Master. The four assassins tensed, hands on weapon hilts.

  The Hunter spread his arms wide, his hands fully visible. “My face.”

  Ilanna hesitated a moment, then lifted the glowing globes to illuminate his upper body and head.

  “Now watch.” The Hunter grinned and, turning his attention inward, shifted the flesh and bones of his face. His features changed from the hard, scarred visage he’d worn since leaving Lord Anglion’s mansion to the boyish and freckled face of Gladrin Silvertongue, a face he hadn’t worn for years.

  The effect on the people in front of him was instantaneous and violent. The hulking thug’s eyes flew wide, his face going pale. Ilanna’s breath caught in her throat and she took a half-step back. The Ghandian woman ripped her short-handled spear free of its sheath and leapt toward him, rattling off a stream of words—curses, by the sharpness of her tone—in a language he didn’t understand.

  The Hunter quickly stepped back, out of range of the woman’s forearm-length spear, but felt four steel blades pressing into his spine and sides.

  The Guild Master stared at him, stunned, for a long moment. Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again, but no words came out. The Hunter kept perfectly still, arms spread wide, making no threatening move. The umber-skinned woman stood guard in front of Ilanna, teeth bared.

  “Okanele!” she growled. “Cursed creature of Inzayo Okubi!”

  The Hunter’s smile widened. “Good to see you believe me now.”

  Ilanna’s jaw worked, and finally she managed to spit out. “H-How?” She swallowed, blinked, and rubbed her eyes. “Tell me that was a trick.”

  “No trick.” The Hunter shook his head. “The legends speak of the ancient demons summoned by Kharna to invade your world.” Right now, he didn’t think his audience was in a receptive mood to hear the truth of Kharna and the Devourer of Worlds—one world-shattering revelation at a time. “But what they didn’t mention was the half-human offspring they sired. The Bucelarii.”

  Ilanna seemed at a loss for words, and even the stream of curses from the Ghandian woman had fallen silent. The huge brute and the assassins hadn’t moved. All eyes were fixed on the Guild Master, as if awaiting her cue.

  “I’d be happy to give you a lesson on the Bucelarii and their history another time,” the Hunter said with a grin. “For now, suffice it to say that I am the last of my kind still alive on Einan.”

  “Last…of your kind.” Ilanna seemed to struggle with the words. “The Bucelarii.”

  “Yes.” The Hunter nodded, a movement that caused the assassins at his back to push the daggers harder against his spine. “But while the Bucelarii are all but extinct, the demons that sired them are not. They hide in plain sight among you humans.”

  “Us humans,” Ilanna echoed.

  “That little trick I showed you with my face, I inherited that from them.” He morphed his features back to the hard, scarred features. “They can do more than just hide their faces, however. Which makes them very difficult for me to hunt.”

  “You’re…hunting demons?” Ilanna managed to say with only a momentary pause.

  “Demon, singular,” the Hunter replied, his tone light, tinged with humor. “When I received word from my contacts in Praamis that bodies were piling up, I came here to find the demon I knew was hiding among the humans in this city.” His smile turned wry. “For a short time, I thought you could be a demon.”

  Ilanna’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?”

  This seemed to snap Ilanna from her stupor, as he’d hoped. In the few interactions he’d had with her, the Hunter had seen she responded strongly to threats and insults. Her quick rejoinders and barb-tongued remarks seemed to burst from her when others would have gotten defensive or hesitated. An admirable trait in a leader, he had to admit.

  “You’ll be happy to know I’ve determined that you’re not the demon I’m hunting.”

  Ilanna snorted. “What a bloody relief!”

  The Hunter chuckled. “But I found traces of the demon in the sewer tunnels, right after your men accosted me.” He shot a glance at the assassin Tassat, who stood to his left and held his dagger’s tip between the Hunter’s ribs, a short thrust from his heart. “It confirmed my suspicions that there is a demon in Praamis, and he is responsible for these murders.”

  “A demon?” Ilanna’s expression grew incredulous. “You’re telling me a demon did this?” She thrust a finger at Baronet Wyvern. “That a demon murdered the Bluejacket, my Fox apprentice, and all the others?”

  “A demon, or those who serve him.” The Hunter nodded. “The one thing I’ve found about all the demons I’ve encountered across Einan is that they tend to gather violent, bloodthirsty men like them to their cause. Where demons are hiding, death and destruction are sure to follow.”

  “All the demons?” Again, the Guild Master seemed to struggle with this revelation. “More than one?”

  The Hunter nodded. “At last count, I’ve taken down eight demons masquerading as humans, and another twenty or thirty in their true monstrous forms.” He said it in a solemn tone. “As Bucelarii, it is my sworn duty to rid Einan of the demons’ curse.”

  “Even though you’re half-demon yourself?” Ilanna asked.

  The Hunter shrugged. “My blood, my mess to clean up.” He thrust a chin at the dead Baronet Wyvern. “When they start doing things like this, or doing what the Bloody Hand did, it’s my job to stop them.”

  “The Bloody Hand?” The words exploded from Ilanna. “You mean to tell me the First was a Keeper-damned demon?”

  The Hunter grinned. “And the Third. Tough bastards to kill, the both of them.”

  Ilanna’s jaw dropped, and the Hunter found matching stunned expressions on every other face in the room. Even the dark-skinned woman seemed shocked to stillness.

  “From what I hear, the Bloody Hand gave you and yours a fair share of trouble.” The Hunter chuckled. “Seems like I took care of that problem for you.”

  Ilanna’s eyes narrowed. “The Bloody Hand, ruled by demons?”

  “Yes.” The Hunter fixed her with a stern gaze. “Now, I answered your question about what brought me t
o Praamis, so it’s your turn to tell me what you know about that symbol.” He thrust a finger at the mark carved into Baronet Wyvern’s chest.

  Ilanna remained silent for a long moment, as if collecting her thoughts. Finally, she managed to speak. “They’re Serenii symbols.”

  “As I thought,” the Hunter said with a nod. “I recognized them as Serenii writing, though I’ve never seen them before.”

  Ilanna scowled. “Did you know that it’s two symbols instead of just one?”

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Two? Intriguing. Do you know what they mean?”

  “I do.” Ilanna drew in a breath and scrubbed a hand over her face before speaking. “One symbol means ‘death and rebirth’, while the second means ‘life beyond’.”

  The Hunter frowned. He’d hoped that discovering the meaning of the symbol would point him in the direction of the killer, but he had no idea what either of those things meant.

  “According to my people,” Ilanna continued, her scowl turning into a smile just on the polite side of smug, “the symbol and the burn marks have something to do with the worship of the Long Keeper. Death and rebirth into the life beyond, the Sleepless Lands.”

  “Ahh.” The Hunter nodded.

  He’d never placed much stock in the gods or the paradise realm known as the Sleepless Lands. After his discovery in Vothmot and in Enarium—that the “gods” were in truth Serenii worshipped by the primitive humans, and no more divine than the humans themselves—he’d given even less credence to the priests’ concocted tales.

  Yet the gods mattered to the rest of the people on Einan, so he only shattered their human misconceptions when absolutely necessary. It had proven necessary with Kiara, Evren, Hailen, Graeme, and Father Reverentus; in this case, he could leave them with their misguided notions of the gods intact.

  “Have you any idea why those symbols would be carved into these bodies?” the Hunter asked.

  “My people believe it has something to do with worshippers of the Long Keeper.”

  The Hunter frowned. The superstitious Voramians had erected a small onyx altar in Divinity Square in acknowledgment of the god of death, but they feared the sleepless Long Keeper far too much to worship him. “It was my understanding—”

  “That no sane person would draw the Keeper’s attention.” The Guild Master’s lips quirked upward. “It turns out the people of Shalandra are far less sane than most.”

  Shalandra again? Every new clue seemed to point in the direction of the City of the Dead.

  “Evidently the priesthood of the Long Keeper holds a great deal of power in Shalandra,” Ilanna continued. “Until I found Baronet Wyvern lying at your feet, I believed him the one responsible for these deaths. That, in his travels to Shalandra, he might have brought the strange worship of the Long Keeper back to Praamis with him.”

  The Guild Master’s words rolled off the Hunter. He was focused on one word. Priesthood?

  The men he’d seen in the tunnels had been wearing hooded robes—common enough to find, yet given this latest information…

  “What if Baronet Wyvern was responsible for the murders, at least partially?” His mind worked as the words poured from his mouth. “Maybe he did bring back the beliefs with him, but more than that, fellow worshippers.”

  Ilanna seemed taken aback. “Shalandran priests of the Long Keeper? Here in Praamis?”

  The Hunter told her of the ten men he’d seen in the sewer tunnels and the lair he’d found after his confrontation with Tassat.

  “I know a demon is somehow linked to these murders, and this sort of strange death worship would be precisely the thing the creature would use to serve his bloody ends.” He fixed Ilanna with a hard gaze. “When we find the killers, I’ve no doubt we’ll find the demon at their head.”

  Ilanna took a long moment to digest this. “You say you found their lair in the sewers?” she asked finally.

  The Hunter nodded. “I can take you there, show you what I found.”

  “Yes,” Ilanna replied. “Show me.”

  “I take it this means we’re still allied?” The Hunter cocked his head. “Even after what you know about me?”

  The Guild Master actually smiled. “If we really are hunting demons—and, mind you, I’m not saying I fully believe you—if we are, who better than a demon to join the hunt?”

  “Half-demon,” the Hunter put in with a grin of his own.

  “Of course.” Ilanna inclined her head. She shot a glance and a nod at the four assassins, and the Hunter felt the daggers retreat from his back. “Take me to where you found them, and I’ll have my trackers look for anything that could point us in the right direction.”

  “And if we find nothing?” the Hunter asked.

  “Then at least we know what we’re looking for,” Ilanna replied. “Hooded men with strange, secret death rituals, led by a demon in human form.”

  “I’m surprised we haven’t found them already.” The Hunter chuckled.

  “Perhaps now that we’ve joined forces, we’ll have better luck.”

  “The enemy of my enemy and all that.”

  The Hunter found himself liking the Guild Master more and more. Her strength of spirit, self-assurance, and quick wit rivaled Kiara’s. In another circumstance, they might have actually become friendly.

  The Hunter was about to bow and insist Ilanna lead the way to the sewers, but stopped when he caught sight of movement through the open doorway. A young woman with the same kaffe-colored skin and fierce features as Ilanna’s protective companion raced toward them, went straight up to the warrior woman, and whispered in her ear.

  The woman sucked in a breath, her face going pale. “You’re certain?” she demanded.

  “Yes, Master Phoenix.” The young newcomer nodded.

  The warrior woman looked like she wanted to vomit as she turned and spoke to the Guild Master in a low whisper—a whisper loud enough for the Hunter’s keen ears to pick up.

  “Kodyn is missing!”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ilanna felt as if someone had plunged a dagger into her gut and ripped out her heart. She turned to stare at Ria but could find no words. Her tongue caught in her mouth, her lungs refused to draw breath.

  Ria gripped her arm and steered her from the room, out into the hallway, Aisha beside them. The moment they were clear of Baronet Wyvern’s bedroom, Ria rounded on the young Phoenix. “Tell me everything!”

  “After doing my rounds, I…thought I’d see how Kodyn was faring.” Aisha blushed, embarrassed. “But no one in House Hawk had seen him since he left the Night Guild earlier this evening. Master Hawk knew nothing, nor Darreth. When I heard where the two of you had gone, with Master Serpent as well, I thought he might be with you.”

  Ria shook her head. “We haven’t seen him since then, either. He said he was going to find Sid.”

  “Sid?” Aisha’s forehead wrinkled. “Master Hawk asked me about the young Hawk, but I told him he was probably training with Kodyn.”

  Ilanna’s insides churned, and her stomach heaved, threatening to empty its contents as a sickening wave of fear washed over her. No, not Kodyn!

  The one—or ones, it seemed—killing children had started by murdering grown men, dockhands, sailors, and day laborers. Men far stronger than Kodyn. The fact that they’d killed the Fox apprentice made it clear they wouldn’t hesitate to go after the Night Guild’s people. And now Kodyn was missing. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  It felt as if someone had sucked all the air from her lungs. Ilanna tried to draw in a deep breath, but managed a faint gasp and swayed.

  “Ilanna!” Ria cried and gripped her arm.

  “Master Gold!” Aisha reached out a hand to steady her.

  Ilanna sucked in a second shuddering breath, then a third. Her last conversation with Kodyn had ended in anger—she’d been trying to protect him, but he’d stormed out of her office. Her sharp words would be the final thing ringing in his mind as he died.

  No! Ilanna pushed
back against the feelings of helplessness, fear, and worry for her son. She compressed them into a ball and shoved them down deep in her gut. I will not let him end up like the others!

  Jaw clenched, she spun on her heel and strode back into the room. The Hunter hadn’t moved, his posture still relaxed, but a curious expression burned in the eyes—those horrible, empty black eyes—he fixed on her.

  “Your son?” the Hunter asked.

  Ilanna’s jaw dropped, and whatever she’d been about to say fled her thoughts.

  “Damn!” The Hunter shook his head. “Is he simply missing, or have they found him…like the others?”

  How the hell did he know? Did his demonic heritage—and she was still reeling from that discovery—give him an impossibly keen sense of hearing, or could he read her thoughts?

  “Then we’ve no more time to waste,” the Hunter said. “I’ll take you down into the sewer to the killers’ lair, and you can set your people—”

  “That can wait.” Ilanna cut him off. “We’re going to find my son, even if I have to turn over every rock in Praamis to do it.”

  The Hunter folded his arms across his chest, the set of his jaw stubborn. “If, as you suspect, the murderers have him, our best hope of finding him is locating them. And that room in the sewers is the best way to find out as much about these Keeper’s Priests as possible.”

  Ilanna hated to admit it, but the damned assassin was right. The last thing she wanted was to tour the sewers while Kodyn was missing, perhaps held captive and being killed at that very moment.

  No! Again, she shoved back the thought. I can’t allow myself to think like that, or I’ll never get anything done. If she gave in to the despair, the overwhelming sorrow at the thought that her son was dead, she’d collapse. Losing Kodyn once had nearly killed her; she couldn’t go through that again. I’ll get him back, alive, even if I have to rip him from the Long Keeper’s embrace myself.