"They're supposed to be out by now," Arlen growled. He hated being left out of the action more than he wanted to admit. It was one thing sitting at home and knowing it was happening, and another to be standing outside and waiting for someone to bring him news. There hadn't even been a chance to get in on the lesser parts of this job; it required too much movement, and too much speed, neither of which he could provide in much quantity.
Akiva reappeared from behind a cloud of blackweed. The man's ability to kick back and relax in fraught situations had always baffled Arlen. A small part of him had also always been jealous, now more than ever. "Usk is with him. I'm sure they're fine."
"So is a girl barely out of childhood who looked like she was going to piss herself when they went past," Arlen growled. The girl had been a mistake. She had been helpful in the break-in to Cael's rooms, but her use on this job was more debatable. The more he thought about it, the more he believed he had saddled Usk with more of a liability than an asset; Jordan was hard enough to manage, and he had at least done it before.
"Have to admit, didn't quite get your logic on that one," Akiva replied, lightly enough that it didn't quite pass as insubordinate. Arlen scowled at him anyway.
They waited on the back step of an empty townhouse in the Orthanian quarter. It was the only street he could find with a view of the temple, and the only house that hadn't been occupied. Most of the windows were gone and the frontage was blackened with soot, and given the renowned rune-net security of the Orthanian quarter, Arlen assumed the fire had been down to the equally notorious Orthanian enjoyment of strong drink. With a rueful smile he remembered the demonfire Silas had found in Eril's cupboard a few days before they killed him; the job that would almost kill Arlen as well.
What a fuck-up, he thought to himself, setting his gaze on the closed back doors of the Orthanian temple. If it all went to plan, Usk, Jordan and the girl would emerge from that exit â soon.
"Where is Silas at the moment?" he asked Akiva. Thinking of that fateful job made him realise he hadn't seen the turd in days. That was never a good sign, though if Jordan hadn't mentioned seeing him then at least it meant he wasn't back to stalking him. Or it meant he'd got better at it.
"Saw him once in the last week," Akiva replied, after a pause. "Talking to Gelert. Then trying to hit Gelert. About the only time I've rooted for the boy in a fight."
"I'm guessing he got laid out."
"If Marick hadn't interrupted, I'm sure he would have. Gelert looked pissed. Almost thought about asking him what Silas said to make his face go so fucking red. Settled for getting Raz to piss in his hat when he left it on the bar."
That distracted him from his vigil. A grin spread across his face almost of its own volition. "You didn't."
"Oh yeah." Akiva winked at him. He discarded his cigarette and began rolling another. "I wanted him to take a shit but he was fresh out. His words, not mine."
Arlen wrinkled his nose. "What did Gelert do?"
"Don't know, we ran away pretty sharp after that." Akiva snorted. "Did hear a shout from about three streets over that I'm pretty sure was him. I just hope he put it on before he noticed."
Arlen hoped the smell stuck in that stupid moustache for a month.
"I don't like not knowing where he is." He turned back to keep his vigil, though his grin lingered.
"Silas? Oh, wouldn't bother with it, mate. If he's not hassling your apprentice then whatever else he's doing is Marick's problem. He could've let Gelert throttle him and been done with all that demonshit."
"I would have," Arlen muttered. He checked the position of the moons. "They really should be out by now."
Akiva joined him at his vantage point, pocketing the cigarette unlit. "Want me to scout?"
He didn't want to look paranoid or like he didn't trust Usk, the man he had picked to mind his apprentice, but it was far too quiet for his liking. As Akiva read the answer on his face and slipped out of the alley, he wondered if he had pushed the boy too far; if the job had been so far beyond him that Usk's expertise couldn't make up for it. Or perhaps it was the girl holding everything up. He'd had second and third thoughts about whether sending her had been a good idea.
He hadn't seen a single temple guard or inhabitant since he'd arrived. Perhaps it was nothing to do with either of them, and all to do with something happening in the temple that he hadn't foreseen. He had been so sure the private wing would be empty with Eril dead and Ethred Nict-knew-where, but perhaps it hadn't been. He chafed as he waited, and chafed because he wasn't capable of going in and checking for himself.
"You've been avoiding me, Blackheart."
Arlen groaned. "Not now, Ashe."
The shadows behind him resolved themselves into Ashe's scowling face. She hadn't prospered outside of Gelert's group, and it showed in her sharp cheekbones and dull stare. Arlen hadn't had a spare minute since the guild vote to consider her proposition; he should have expected this. Not that he hadn't â only he wished she hadn't picked now.
"If you'd talked to me before this, we wouldn't have a problem," she replied tightly. She'd chopped her hair to a few inches and the effect made her look sharper. Arlen thought it an improvement, if he was honest. He could have expected to her to tease him mercilessly if she'd ever caught him looking before, but now she only offered him a grim smile.
"Most of the guys like it less," she said. "That's why I did it. And if you make any moves I'll stab you."
"You see me moving?" he matched her sharp tone. "You're making a lot of threats for someone who wants something from me."
Her only response was an insolent stare.
"What's going on with the guild right now?" he asked. His main regret about doing this job was missing out on the opportunity to see what Marick was up to. He had no idea if the Devils had played any part in Ethred's escape, and the fact that he didn't know was just a reminder of how far he had fallen. What had he hoped for, he thought snidely, that he would get another leg that let him move a bit faster and Marick would just forget the tensions of the last few months? No, he would have to claw his way back up. Bloodily, if he had to.
"Marick took Gelert somewhere," Ashe said. She sounded frustrated at his lack of interest in what she had to say, but really, she'd picked a terrible time. "I don't know where. Because like I told you, Gelert doesn't talk to me anymore."
"Well, if you'd wanted to prove you could be useful to me, you should've followed them," Arlen growled. He scanned the gloom for Akiva's return, any sound or movement. He should have been able to see people despite the emergency shutdown. He crept a bit further out from behind the wall to scan the wider courtyard, which was also empty. He withdrew, cursing quietly to himself and wondering if they'd run themselves headfirst into a trap. Just because Marick hadn't said anything to suggest he knew of Arlen's goals didn't mean he was oblivious.
He was vaguely aware of Ashe stewing behind him, but lost all the little care he had for that when figures materialised from the shadows at the side of the temple. The size of one and the slouch of the other told him it was Usk and Akiva. He strained his sight for any sign of others with them and his stomach sank into his bowels when he saw no one. The two men broke into a jog as soon as they were out of range of the temple lanterns.
"Where is he?" he demanded of Usk. He forgot his handicap in a fit of rage as he bunched the man's shirt in one fist and drew their faces close. "What the fuck happened?"
Usk's lip lifted in a snarl. "Caelumese. The place was fucking swarming with them in their stupid shiny armour. They took the boy and girl with them."
Arlen ignored the sick lurch in his gut at the mention of the Caelumese. Focus on the problem at hand. Not the cold prickle along the length of his scars or the nausea boiling inside him.
"Why the fuck did you let that happen?" It was tempting to pull a knife and shove it in something that hurt, but with an effort he restrained himself.
"Because short of picking him up and slinging him across my shoulders, he was not going to leave that girl there," Usk snapped. He wiped sweat from his brow. "Some half-brain priest had a knife at her throat. If I'd had to resort to wrestling a full-grown lad out of the window we'd probably both have been run through in the attempt. So I did as he asked, and I got these out." From inside his shirt he dragged a roll of parchment and a small glass vial. "I would suggest we take these to the witch men and then find out where they took him."
"Oh, no, I was just going to leave him there," Arlen sneered. An impotent rage built inside his chest, swelling until he could barely stand still for the restlessness. The nerve. The fucking nerve. If he found out Marick had anything to do with it.... The boy himself was almost an incidental casualty compared to the ruin the Devil leader had made of Arlen's pride. The resentment of months bubbled up to the surface like a toxin, filling his brain with dark plans. If it had been Marick, he was laying down his challenge, there and then. And then he was going to deck his apprentice for stupidity. He didn't even know the girl and now he could be at risk of dying for her.
He whirled on Ashe. "You want to join my group? Help me recover my idiot apprentice and you're in."
She nodded, eyes glinting. She twirled a knife in one hand.
"What's the plan, Arl?" Akiva asked, face deadly serious for once. Arlen looked between his men and found equal expressions of determination on their faces. Well, if Arlen could knock the stupid out of him, Jordan would clearly make a popular addition to his group. "I'll rope in Jes and Raziel."
"You and Jes are going to find where they took him," Arlen said, thinking fast. "Ashe, you're going to locate Marick and Gelert, see if they lead you to him. Raz needs to make as much distraction fodder as he can in the next hour. See if he can rustle up that shit for me." He swallowed. "Usk, you're with me."
The Varthian cocked his head. "Where are we going?"
A scowl etched itself onto his face of its own volition. "We're finding the witch men."
It was a practical choice â he couldn't track stealthily yet even with his new leg. Since he had dealt with the physician before, he didn't trust the others to take it to the right person. And since Jordan's Unspoken tutor didn't like leaving Arlen to mind his own dark-damned business, he was half-hoping that they'd run into Yddris instead of having to track him down. He didn't speak to Usk as they walked. He couldn't decide if he was pissed with the brute or not. Furious as it made him that his apprentice had been taken, he wouldn't want one of the best in his group taken down for a dubious chance at rescue.
Usk had the good sense to stay quiet, only talking to suggest a more likely path or a section of road he knew to be a frequent patrol route for Unspoken. In truth, Arlen hadn't the foggiest idea where to look in such strange circumstances. The plague hospital breakout had thrown everything into disarray; the Unspoken wouldn't be on their normal routes, and they were both taking a risk themselves as Arlen couldn't travel across the rooftops. Usk had no better idea than he did, in all likelihood, but in the event of a run-in with plague victims â or more assassins, a snide voice in the back of his head added â it would be more than useful to have the man on hand.
They took a meandering route up in the direction of the castle. Arlen grew leerier they closer they came; he'd never felt comfortable in the well-heeled areas of the city without a disguise on. He had no time to find one. Their indirect progress frustrated him.
The first Angel they came across, Usk spotted first, drawing Arlen abruptly down an alley as the soldier rounded the corner. Arlen only had time for one glance back before he had to focus on keeping his balance, but that glance made his blood run cold. Such a familiar silhouette, even after all these years. He could smell the blood-and-smoke stink of that night all over again. A cold hand on his knee. The crash as a metal-clad foot kicked the door in.
He took a gasping breath. His scar felt as though he'd run ice along it. He kept his head down and let Usk lead, so the brute didn't see that he didn't have a hold on himself. Weak. Still so fucking weak.
He cursed as Usk stopped in front of him so abruptly that he walked into his broad back. He looked up to snap at him, but Usk held a finger to his lips and pointed.
He'd been so distracted by his thoughts that he'd not noticed the Fleshmonger at all. He looked at it, sucking in a breath, and then looked again. It didn't look right. Fleshmongers were always ugly, but this one was covered in pale sores. It crouched on its haunches and scratched at them, releasing low moans. Some leaked fluids, and the creature's eyes were filmy and weeping.
A tiny number of infected demons in the whole city, and they'd fucking run into one. His mind went blank. Their only saving grace now was that the wind couldn't get into the alley and blow their scent towards it. For the first time in a long time, he prayed. It would be such a bitch, after all that effort to outmanoeuvre his employer and his assassins, to die from a chance encounter with a mad demon.
Using Usk as cover for the movement, he drew a knife from his belt. It was a pathetic weapon against a demon, but he wouldn't go down without at least trying. With his other hand he pulled out a small pouch of blinding powder. The creature's eyes looked so irritated already that it would cause agony.
A breeze tickled the nape of his neck. He cursed as the Fleshmonger's head snapped up, tasting the wind.
Usk dropped into a fighting crouch, blade in each hand, as the creature turned and lumbered towards them. It wasn't fast, and for a wonder, it didn't try to spit. As it moved it lurched from side to side, blinking wetly. The plague had clearly scrambled its brains, and that was a blessing. If it was still capable of spitting they'd probably both be on the ground already.
They backed away down the alley. There was a chance, after all, that it was too unwell to hunt properly and they would get an opening to escape.
He had counted his blessings far too soon. As they emerged at the other end of the alley, the demon blearily following them with coordination too poor to catch up, he heard a shout behind him. It filled him with terror far more effectively than even the prospect of certain death by a demon had, when he realised the shout had been in Caelumese. So many nights he had lain awake in the tent and listened to that sharp tongue through the canvas walls; listened to them shout and laugh as he lay on the hard ground among a dozen others and tried to hold the edges of his wounds shut before he lost too much blood. You couldn't lose consciousness in a Caelumese prison camp. Lose consciousness, and you lost altogether. They'd have you, then.
"Arl. Arlen." Arlen snarled as Usk dragged him hard to one side and upset his balance. He'd stopped moving.
He blinked. His leg burned. He looked down, panic rising to choke him, and found venom eating away at his trouser leg. Behind his boot the cobbles bubbled. Without asking, Usk cut away the leg of Arlen's trousers from the hip down and threw the half-dissolved fabric as far as he could. A few spots still landed on his skin and he snarled as it begun to eat away at it.
"Don't just stand there, you fucking clod," a familiar voice snapped. Arlen looked up just as Yddris threw the contents of a bucket at him.
"That's piss!" he yelled, stumbling back as the smell hit him.
"And that was flesh eating venom," the Unspoken countered. "Did you just want to see how long it took to reach bone? Because you were about to."
They glared at each other. Arlen could barely contain his desire to lunge at the man with a blade. Instead, he looked around. The demon was a hulk of unmoving flesh in the middle of the street. He didn't remember the Unspoken arriving, let alone killing the demon, and he didn't like the look on Usk's face when he met the Varthian's eye. Wary. Concerned. Not things anyone wanted to see while standing in the middle of the street wearing half a pair of trousers and dripping with someone else's piss.
"Stop making fucking kicked dog eyes at me," he growled. He turned on Yddris. He would give the man no opportunity to start messing with him. "Your apprentice has been kidnapped."
It had the desired effect. All traces of amusement were absent from the man's voice as he said, "What? He can't have. He would have signalled."
Too tight for time to unpack that little revelation. "He's with Angels. They're probably keeping a tight leash on him. I've got my lads tracking down where they took him. And I'm assuming you'll agree to help."
"Angels?"
The shock in his voice was annoying. "Yes, Angels. You haven't noticed the roving bands of Lucifer's dark-damned army roaming about? They're hard to miss." He pointed at his blinded eye. "What's your excuse?"
Yddris stared. Arlen had half a mind to order Usk to slap him. In the air around them he became aware of a crackling sensation that he knew from his time with Jordan meant the Unspoken was getting worried. Or angry. Yddris's voice when he next spoke escaped him in a hiss, "And how the fuck did that happen? What did you get him tangled with?"
"Oh, fuck off. He was busy trying to save that fancy fuckwad in the castle because you're always stuck with the babysitting." He looked the Unspoken up and down, slowly. "Might want to ask where your failings are in this one, Whisperer. You hadn't roped him into saving Harkenn, he'd not have been anywhere near Orthan tonight. He asked for my help. I didn't get him tangled with anything. You did."
He felt more than saw that one hit home. He didn't allow himself the self-satisfied smirk; he was hardly in a dignified position himself. He could feel piss running down his leg, stinging in the burns the demon venom had dealt him. Darin would flip his lid and kick him into the tub when he got back â if he got back. Despite his earlier conviction, he hoped that this didn't mean that he had to make a move against Marick now. He wasn't certain he could win.
Anger replaced the worry tightening his chest. A glance around the street showed that the Caelumese had moved on; convenient, considering the nearby demon. Bloody cowards.
"Are you helping or not?" Arlen growled.
"You're always full of stupid questions," Yddris muttered. The crackling in the air hadn't eased any, but his voice was resigned. "Lead on."
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Thanks so much for your patience.
Regards,
Elinor (S E Harrison)