by Katie Roman
“You can’t mean Grace,” he snarled.
Mac is waiting for a large scale attack from Marcus’s followers. That is why Thom lives. At dawn you may raise the alarm, but tonight his men are poised and ready for attack.
“And what of Grace? They won’t be prepared for The Death Dealer to appear?”
Mac believes she will lead the offensive. Alone, she can sneak into the camp and free the captives, but only if she is given the chance. Wait an hour or more before calling Marcus’s followers forth. By then Grace will have freed her friends, or died trying. If the alarm is sounded now, everyone will know who The Death Dealer is. That is as much a danger to her as to Mac.
Jack growled and jumped at the wolf, but it took off into the dark. He stalked off to the temple district to make hasty prayers to Kamaria, Ciro, and Diggery for the safe delivery of Marcus and Ridley, and most especially for Grace.
~*~*~
Grace pushed herself to the spot she had been only a few precious nights before. If it wasn’t for the executioner’s hood, Grace’s face would have been severely cut by the whipping branches. Unlike the last time she spied on Mac, she wasn’t being careful or quiet. She ignored the stinging sensation she felt underneath her hood and stopped running for a moment.
There had been a fire in this spot recently, and she guessed Mac and his group put it out in the last few hours. These men were no fools; they covered their tracks well. Grace guessed they went north, but their tracks led off in all directions. Mac must have guessed their secret hideaway was not so secret, after all. After Marcus sent Geary away, Mac probably guessed he was being watched closer than he believed.
Enraged by it all, Grace kicked a charred log across the campsite. Mac was already one step ahead, and if she took the wrong path it would cost her precious hours. Already she was wasting time trying to guess which way the real path was. She took off north. The next largest city was north of Glenbard and she figured Mac might try heading out there. It would take days of travel to get there, but if Mac had enough of a head start and had horses with him, Grace knew she would never catch him.
Something growled and barked. Grace turned in her tracks and saw the large black wolf again. It barked angrily at Grace, although it made no move toward her, so she slowly walked toward the northern path. Seeing this, the wolf leapt after her and blocked the path.
It was steering her away from the northern route. Then Grace noticed something odd…the wolf’s silver eyes sparkled in the dark. Tales had been told and many legends consisted of a wolf just like this, and Grace, now fully awake, understood what was happening.
“If you really are Diggery, guardian of the lost, then show me the right path.”
The wolf seemed pleased that Grace finally understood. She bounded past the girl and headed with all speed down a western path. Grace wasted no time. Her legs ached from running so much already, but she pushed forward. She lost sight of the wolf as its black fur concealed it in the darkness, but Grace could still hear the swift movement of her great padded feet.
The large black wolf set a grueling pace and Grace felt her muscles begin to tire. She wanted to help her friends, but now faced with the actual task, she wondered if she could do it. She needed help, but she fled Glenbard without calling for aid from the thieves. What kind of foolishness was that?
She stopped and strained her hearing. The wolf could no longer be heard ahead. “I failed. I failed everyone…Marcus, Ridley, myself.” She sank to her knees and pounded the ground with her fists. Hot tears of frustration poured down her face, soaking the hood. “I...need a...help...” she cried out to no one in particular.
The wolf came to her side and licked the hood. Grace removed it and the animal gently cleaned the tears from her face. Diggery threw back her head and let out a howl that shook the entire wood. Grace suddenly felt filled with a new strength. She rose to her feet again and continued on.
~*~*~
Grace walked well into the night, always keeping the wolf in her view. Suddenly the wolf stopped and Grace stopped beside her. The wolf began to walk slowly ahead, crouching low to the ground.
A fire came into Grace’s view. It was small and dim from where she stood, but she guessed that the wolf had brought her to Mac’s hideout.
“I suppose I’m on my own from here?”
The wolf growled a little and snuffed at Grace’s hand. You will not be alone, I promise. Grace was a bit shocked. She couldn’t see the wolf completely in the dark, but she swore she saw it smile. Returning the hood to her head, Grace patted the wolf softly, wondering if she was out of line petting Diggery.
Grace snuck forward slowly. There was no telling how many guards Mac had posted about. The black of her clothes would help conceal her, but once she was closer to that fire, her shadow would give her away. The thought she might die that night kept running through Grace’s head.
She knew she wasn’t ready to fight Mac, and this time Jack wouldn’t be there to come to her rescue. “You don’t need someone to rescue you,” Grace whispered to herself.
Grace had a clear view of the camp and saw a large tent on the outskirts. Mac suddenly came out with a flagon of wine. “The King is almost ready to abdicate to me!” Mac shouted, and his men threw out raucous cheers.
Grace now knew where Marcus was, but how would she get inside? It was possible to sneak around and cut through the back of the tent, but not without making a lot of noise. Even in a drunken state the men would hear her cutting the fabric of the tent. Waiting for them all to fall asleep was no good either. Mac was probably waiting for Marcus to give in, and then he would kill him in a show of strength.
Luck was on Grace’s side, though. The great wolf, Diggery, darted past Grace and jumped into the circle of Mac’s men. It snapped angrily and began attacking whoever was near. When it howled, the horses of the camp went completely mad. The mutiny of the animals caused enough noise and enough of a distraction for Grace to sneak around to the back of the tent.
She used Jack’s dagger and cut a door for herself in the fabric. Grace slipped in and saw Marcus and Ridley lying on the ground, bloodied and beaten, tied to one another. Ridley was in terrible shape, but Marcus seemed to have his wits about him.
“Death Dealer? You’ve come to help us?”
Grace nodded.
“Death...Dealer?” Ridley moaned and tried to open her eyes. Grace was filled with rage as she truly saw what had happened. Ridley had been beaten so badly her eyes were swollen shut and her nose was broken. This was probably how Mac convinced Marcus to abdicate. There was no telling what else he’d done to the girl, and she didn’t want to know.
Grace cut them free and helped Marcus to his feet. In turn, he lifted Ridley up over his shoulder. “Run east. Hide among the shadows. I’ll distract them here.”
“Thank you, Death Dealer.” Marcus disappeared through Grace’s little door. Soon he was gone into the night.
That was as far as Grace had thought out her plan. She hadn’t given much thought to how she would escape. The wolf howled again and Grace heard a large number of running feet. “After the demon! It’s going into the forest!” someone yelled.
“Let me get my good sword!” Mac’s voice. He was coming back into the tent.
Grace drew her sword and prepared herself. Mac threw open the tent flap and stopped dead in his tracks.
“You again? I see my last gift wasn’t enough to keep you away.” Mac picked up his sword. “I enjoyed marking you once. I’m gonna love doing it again.”
When he lunged Grace sidestepped, and Mac ripped another hole into the tent. The space was too small, but Grace couldn’t risk being in the open. The rogues in Mac’s group would tear her limb from limb. She had a slim chance of survival within the tent, so at least there was a little bit of hope. Mac lifted his sword into a high arc and brought it crashing down against Grace’s. Grace believed in honor in fighting, but she also had the wits to see there would be no honor in this fight, and there was a chance it wo
uld end like their first fight had. So she used a little trick Ridley taught her. She waited until Mac went for a lower hit and then she kicked at the wrist on his sword arm. He dropped the sword and with a second well placed kick, Grace caught him squarely in the chest.
He staggered back from her, but his recovery time was amazingly swift. Grace grabbed his sword, but Mac had plenty of other weapons in his tent. He picked up a huge ax and swung at Grace’s head. She ducked in time to feel the swing of the ax move the air around her head.
“You’re fast, boy, I’ll give ya that. But did you really think you’d best ‘ole Mac? You’re just a little boy playing big boy games.” Grace dodged another swing of the ax, but this time she smashed Mac’s right hand with the hilt of his sword. Something cracked and he loosened his grip with that hand.
“I am not a boy!” Grace quickly exposed her face so Mac would see who fought him. Just as quickly, she pulled the hood down again.
“You? This is gonna be more fun than I thought.” Mac dropped the ax. “I’m goin’ to give you the beating you deserve, and then I’ll show you how to respect a man.”
Mac jumped at her and brought her crashing to the ground, and her sword flew from her hand. He got off one good solid punch to her chest, but not another. Grace used her knees and made contact with his stomach. When he tightened his midsection, she used her foot to throw him off. As she scrambled to her feet, Mac grabbed her by the ankle and she came crashing back down.
Mac had a solid hold on her left foot, but he neglected her right one. Grace used this to her advantage and kicked him hard in the face. This time she was able to get to her feet, and Mac staggered up as well. Despite his injuries he was lightning fast, and Grace was only able to land one punch before he lifted her over his head.
The next thing Grace knew she was sailing through her newly made door and hitting the ground with a great deal of force. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she landed on a large, sharp rock. She didn’t think she was bleeding, but the pain was excruciating. It snaked up her side, adding to the ache she already carried in her muscles.
She got to her feet and looked about for a new weapon. When Mac appeared in the hole she just flew out of, she realized he was holding the ax again.
“I’ve had enough of these games.” Mac let out a primal scream and ran for Grace; bringing the ax high for the final death blow.
But he didn’t expect the final trick Grace had waiting. She pulled the Escion dagger out of her belt, and when Mac was close enough she thrust it forward. The ax clattered to the ground and Mac gasped like a fish out of water as the knife lodged in his chest. Grace felt his blood on her hand as she gave the dagger a savage turn. He fell to the ground and joined his ax.
“Hey! Behind here!” someone called. Grace ignored her pain and took off running through the woods. “Hey, wait a minute!”
~*~*~
Grace was so tired, but she kept running. Although her body was slowing down, she still thought she was outrunning them. If she just kept moving they’d never catch her. Mac’s men would never get her. But then they did.
Hurt and confused from her fight with Mac, Grace failed to understand how close behind her follower was until he had a good strong hold on her from behind.
“Let me go!” She screamed and used her elbows and what was left of her strength to try and fight him off. “Let...me...go!”
“Grace, stop fighting me!” Jack’s voice stopped Grace dead in her fight. He was the one chasing after her, calling for her to stop.
She sank to her knees and panted; looking straight forward into the darkness.
“Grace, are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“No. Well yes, but no. He’s dead...and his men...I thought they were chasing me.”
Jack removed her hood and smoothed Grace’s hair. “No, the Guild arrived sometime while you and Mac were fighting in the tent. I raised the alarm, as Diggery instructed.” She looked at him, shocked. He held her chin. “The wolf saw to it that you weren’t alone.”
The confusion began to clear in Grace’s head. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and Grace’s body was calming down. “Marcus? Marcus and Ridley?”
“Both fine. We found them staggering back to the city. And Thom is going to be fine as well. Everyone has you to thank, though I suppose no one will know it.”
Jack looked at Grace’s hands, coated in blood. He pulled out his water skin and poured a little over her hands.
“I beat him, Jack,” she said while Jack rubbed what he could of the blood from her hands. “I didn’t think I could, but I did. It was horrible to see him die like that, caught so unawares by the dagger. I watched his life drain away.” She began to cry; heaving in deep breaths until they turned into hiccups.
“Don’t think about it now.”
Grace met Jack’s eyes in the darkness. They glinted a little in the moonlight and she sighed heavily. Jack pulled her into a hug and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
“I killed him,” she said again. “What have I done?”
“We have to get you back to Glenbard,” he said, and helped Grace to her feet. “Wait here and I’ll get Pilgrim.” He put her executioner’s hood in her hands. “Put this on.”
Fourteen
The day Grace rescued Marcus and Ridley was a blur. She returned to the Angel just before she needed to report to Mayhew. Her wounds weren’t severe, so she covered the bruises and worked as though nothing happened. She was excused from duty at the midday meal because Marcus wanted a word privately. Everyone believed the King of Thieves wanted to tell her she didn’t need to fear Mac anymore.
He was tired, beaten and bruised. “You look well, Grace. If you’re worried, people think Thom is The Death Dealer.”
“How is Ridley?”
“We took her to a healer. She’ll live. Her nose will be crooked and she may have a few scars, but it could have been worse. You can see her tomorrow; she’ll be sleeping right now.”
Marcus pulled out a chair for Grace. He sat on the table in front of her and smiled down at her slightly. “How are you? No noticeable bruises, at least. Jack told me he brought you home, though you insisted on climbing through the mud to get back into the city.” She giggled for the first time all day. “Mac’s dead.”
Grace sobered up completely. “I see his death face every time I blink. Don’t tell Jack, but I vomited as soon as I came back to the Angel. I killed a man early this season…it was an accident. But I murdered Mac. I wanted to forget the first man I killed, the one I didn’t even know by name, but now I never can.”
Marcus took her hand in his. The touch was warm and fatherly. “You can’t forget, although I wish you could. I remember all of the lives I’ve taken. The memories are rarer and rarer, but some days, well, I see their faces clear as day. Usually on the brink of wakefulness or in the late watches, but they’re there.”
“I am turning into a coldblooded murderer.”
“No!” The word sucked all the air out and replaced it with tension. “You are a good person; I have seen it. And I will not let you fall from this virtuous path you’ve placed yourself on.” He smoothed out her hair; her ponytail streaming out through his fingers. “Back to work with you. I can’t keep you from Mayhew all day.”
~*~*~
That night, Grace found a gift of a new jerkin on her bed. Marcus left a note saying it was an early birthday gift, and that if it didn’t fit, he would have one made that did.
Though the gift warmed her heart, she couldn’t bring herself to look at The Death Dealer hood. She’d killed two men now and the guilt weighed heavily on her mind. By her hand, two men had gone from this world to the next. She ran her fingers over the leather, enjoying the smooth touch, but this was a cruel reminder of what she had done. After a good, long cry she went immediately to see Ridley, though her body cried for sleep.
When she arrived at the temple to visit, the priestess looked angry. In a vow of silence, the priestess wrote that Marcus knew there sh
ould be no visitors.
“I am a cousin. Certainly family can come by?” Grace said after reading the note. A scowl was her only response, but the priestess led the way.
Poor Ridley was propped up on her pillows. Her face was a dark green and purple mess. A healer tried to set her nose, but a lump still protruded.
“You came!” she rasped. Grace grabbed her hands. “Marcus said no visitors, but you came.”
“I had to put a few coins into the alms box and promise some cleaning around here, but I had to see you. Tell me everything.”
“They came so suddenly. Geary was leading them. They knocked me out but I came to in that filthy tent.” Tears welled up in her eyes. Grace hugged her as gently as she could and let her own tears coat her friend’s hair. “I don’t remember everything,” Ridley continued after a few minutes of silent sobbing between them. “But I think it’s better that I don’t. He might have gone so far as to kill me just to get at Marcus’s throne. Then The Death Dealer came, and I felt it was all a dream. I couldn’t see well, but he was there. I heard Marcus say his name. He rescued us! Then I woke up here. He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Grace took a breath and nodded. “Marcus had a private word with me. He wanted me to know I was safe from Mac.”
“We are all safe, and all because of that valiant hero.”
Grace sat up and talked with Ridley. She tried to keep conversation light, because each time Mac was brought up, both girls teared up. After an hour and much prodding, Grace confided in Ridley what was happening between her and Jack. Even in her sick bed, the girl managed an ecstatic whoop. That was when Grace was removed from the sick room for being too disruptive.
~*~*~
Grace looked into the eyes of the Diggery statue. It wasn’t the same as looking into the eyes of the deity in wolf form. She sighed and hung her head.
“It is my fault a man died.” Grace heard the door to the temple open and she didn’t need to turn to know Jack was sauntering up to her.
“It is because of you that your friends still live,” Jack said simply. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple.
