The Assassins of Consequence, page 27
“Are we?” Scanlin asked. Rory Scanlin leaned against one wall, massaging oil into his arms. “I mean, we had our bout, and we did some damage. That’s the job, yeah?”
“We want to make him hurt, Rory,” Pria said, putting pressure on his own arrow wound.
“I’ve got no beef,” Scanlin said.
“He humiliated me, killed my Circle mates, and tore down my house,” Pria said. “He’s got more pain coming to him.”
“I mean, fine, but I don’t need to get killed for this,” Scanlin said. “We’re not getting paid that well.”
“Does it look like we’re at risk of getting killed?” Cuse asked.
“You got shot,” Erno said.
“Nothing to worry about,” Cuse said, and applied the yellow powder to the wound. There was a flash of fire, and when it passed, the wound was closed. He started to do the same to Pria.
“That professor was quite the fight,” Erno said. “I should come up with a ballad for that one.”
“Hush,” Enzin said, very tired of all of their voices, especially Erno’s. “This was never the deal. Go to Fenmere with what we knew, use him to get back on our feet. Go after the Thorn, yes. But I didn’t join in on this to just kill anyone. Especially old men.”
“That old man had it coming, trust,” Endoriff said.
“I really don’t,” Enzin said. “In any of you!”
“Hey, hey,” Cuse said, coming over with a vial of orange liquid. “I told you, I told you before, what I gave you this morning was a patch, just a patch. Proper curing you will take time, expensive ingredients, which is why we need to do all this.”
“Patch didn’t last, look at me!” Enzin said, showing him his arms. Another surge made the muscles in his forearm swell, and then drop.
“I know, I didn’t account for the amount of numina we would encounter. The Thorn, the professor, these two mages.”
“You have a problem with me?” Pria asked.
“It’s not a problem, it’s not you,” Cuse said calmly. “I just didn’t take it into account in my calculations. This is a new patch, should be more stable, like being back on the Fist at the best of times.”
“Give it to me,” Enzin said. “Give it now!”
“Hold on,” Cuse said. He held up a small ingot of metal to Endoriff. “If you could be so kind as to apply a numinic charge to this piece of copper?”
“I fail to see why,” Endoriff said, but still held up his hand, and the metal started to glow.
“Because it’s a faster activation, and will make this more stable,” Cuse said. He dropped the piece of copper into the vial, and with a flash, the liquid went from orange to green. He gave it to Enzin, who drank it down greedily. Almost immediately, the pain in all his muscles subsided. His arms swelled, evenly, powerfully.
“Better?” Erno asked him.
“It’s fine,” Enzin said.
“Good,” Erno said. He handed over a quiver. “New arrows for you, new bow for me. And we’ll add those debts to the Thorn’s tally.”
“Shouldn’t we be hunting him again now?” Endoriff asked. “If we are quite done recovering?”
“You know where the Thorn is?” Scanlin asked, putting the cap back on his oil. “If so, we can go. Or do you mean you want Pria to fly up and scout again?”
“He could be anywhere,” Cuse said.
“Now, that’s absurd.”
A little girl, no more than seven, came out of the shadows of the door. Enzin drew an arrow and bore down his aim.
“Easy, mate, it’s a child,” Erno said.
“I mean,” the little girl said. “He really couldn’t be anywhere, could he? It’s highly unlikely he went to, say, Poasia or Tsoulja.”
“Who the blazes are you?” Cuse asked.
“I mean, of course, when you said ‘anywhere,’ you really were talking about the neighborhood.”
“I weary of this,” Endoriff said, his hands charging with magic.
“Ah, ah,” the little girl said, waving her finger. “You can kill this little girl, but that really won’t affect the person you’re talking to. All you would be doing is killing a little girl.”
Enzin stepped closer. “So who are we talking to?”
“An interested party. The lot of you want the Thorn, don’t you? You’re working for someone who is paying handsomely for his head on a platter, only, like you said, he could be anywhere. Well, not anywhere, but still.”
“I kind of still want to kill the little girl,” Endoriff said.
“Wouldn’t that be a hoot?” the girl said. “Then I’d have to find a different emissary, and that . . . well, it wouldn’t be hard at all, actually, but I think it would make this whole thing very tedious. The point is, you work for Willem Fenmere.”
“Not true,” Erno said.
“You are doing a job for him, fine,” the girl said, rolling her eyes. “Let us not quibble about semantics. You are doing a job in which you hunt that delightful boy called the Thorn. Fenmere, I can tell, wants him alive, yes?” The girl looked at Scanlin. “Ooh, his mind is delightfully uncomplicated, so, yes, I can see that is what Fenmere wants. Delightful.”
“And what do you want?”
“Comfortable compensation for my efforts,” the little girl said. “I . . . that is, the person you are speaking to, well, I have no interest in any sort of physical grapple with the Thorn, but I would like to get paid.”
“For what?” Enzin asked.
“His current location, of course,” the girl said. “I know where he is, and as he keeps moving, I know where he goes. So, you want to find him, I can help. But only if I get paid.”
Pria went to the girl and picked her up by the front of the blouse. “Or we can rip your teeth out until you tell us.”
“Oh, savage!” the girl said with a wide smile. “I mean, that is delightful, but again, nothing you do to the body you have in your hands will have any effect on me, safely ensconced a block away from you all. It certainly won’t compel me to talk. So, let us not bother with the tedious waste of time, and instead, you bring Mister Fenmere so we can settle my finder’s fee.”
“Bring Fenmere?” Cuse asked.
“Well, none of you have the money. He’s the one paying, he’s the one to talk to.”
“Pria,” Enzin said. “Put the girl down and go tell Fenmere.”
“Why are you ordering me?” Pria asked.
“I’m not ordering you, I’m saying she’s right, this is tedious. And you are the fastest. So let’s stop wasting time, let’s stop killing people who we didn’t agree to kill, and move along.”
Pria scowled, put the girl down on the work counter, and his flaming wings sprouted from his back. He launched into the air, smashing through the roof in the process.
“That was just excessive,” Cuse said, looking at the hole just made.
“I do hope he hurries,” the girl said, swinging her legs about as they dangled over the edge of the counter. “I would hate for you all to miss the fun the Thorn is about to have.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
KAIANA WASN’T SURE IF THEY could trust these “Knights of Saint Julian,” part of her was certain they were being led into a trap. But at least, for the moment, as they surrounded her and Veranix in a protective circle as they made their way across Tulip Street to the church, she wasn’t being tied up or attacked.
For the moment, she could breathe.
“They probably are right behind us, though,” Veranix said. “So if we could . . . I didn’t catch your name, Captain?”
“They call me Four-Toe,” the Knight captain said.
“You missing a toe or something?”
“Got them all,” he said.
“His parents named him Fortill,” one of the other Knights said. “But as a kid, he couldn’t say it right. So here we are.”
“Hush it, Scants,” Four-Toe said.
“Those Orphans and the two other killers are right behind us, so maybe a little faster, Four-Toe?” Veranix said.
“I’d agree, but we’ve got Hallaran’s Boys pushing in, and we spotted wagons of Fenmere’s men coming up from the south. So the streets are rutting full of trouble.”
“All the reason to go faster, no?”
“Go smarter, Thorn,” Four-Toe said. His Knights signaled, and Four-Toe pulled Veranix into a shop, and one of the other goons pulled Kaiana.
This is the trap, she thought. Though an old clothing shop didn’t seem like much of a trap.
“Just cool here a moment,” Four-Toe said. “Hey, Nonders?”
An older woman came out from the back room. “What now?” she asked, not even taking the pipe out of her mouth to speak.
“My friends need some new coats to look less conspicuous.”
She looked Kaiana up and down, then Veranix. “She’s a Napa and he’s bleeding. Ain’t nothing gonna make that less conspicuous.”
“Watch your mouth,” Veranix said.
“Don’t bother,” Kaiana told him. “She’s not worth thinking about. How far are we from the church? A block and a half?”
Four-Toe looked out the door. “Yeah, but we’ve got a group of Orphans walking through here. Let’s let them pass, Thorn.”
“Fine by me,” Veranix said. “But let’s make one thing clear.”
Four-Toe turned back to Veranix, raising an eyebrow. “The only thing clear is the Rev asked me to do something, so I’m doing it.”
“That’s fine,” Veranix said. “But if something happens out there, you get her out, get her safe.”
“I’m supposed to protect you,” Four-Toe said. “I’m letting the girl tag along out of respect.”
“And I’m saying, she never should have been dragged into this. So her safety comes first, above all else.”
“Safest thing for her is to stay out of it, then. She should stay here with Nonders.” He looked to the back of the store. The shopwoman was gone. “Where did she go?”
Kaiana went to the back room, and saw the door to the alley was still swinging open. “Looks like she ran.”
“That ain’t good,” Four-Toe said. “Blazes, I called you Thorn, she heard, so she must have—”
“Oh, Thorn!” a voice called from the street. “We know you’re inside.”
“We’ve got a score to settle with you,” another man said.
Veranix furrowed his brow. “Who is that?”
“Let’s not stay and find out,” Four-Toe said, brushing past Kaiana to the back. “Come on, we’ll—”
Five goons charged in from the back of the store, all fists and clubs. Four-Toe launched himself right at them, and Veranix grabbed Kaiana’s hand and pulled her with him back out the front.
At least a dozen more goons were there, led by two fellows in heavy coats, armed with pairs of short swords and hatchets. A few of the Knights were dead on the ground at their feet.
“There he is,” the one with the hatchet said.
“Well, my very stars,” Veranix said, and Kaiana could see his whole demeanor had shifted, like he had just put on the persona of the Thorn with a shift in the tilt of his head. “If it isn’t Lemt and Jendle, two of the most useless wastes of skin I’ve ever met.”
“Finally seeing the real Thorn,” the one with the hatchets said. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
“I wouldn’t think you’d enjoy humiliation, Lemt,” Veranix said. “But I don’t judge people for that sort of thing.”
“Make him bleed!” Jendle—who held the short swords—jumped in at Veranix with both blades swinging. Veranix moved like a rabbit, faster than Kaiana could see, and in a fluid motion he had blocked both blades with the cane, flipped over Jendle, and yanked the man by the hair, pulling him to the ground with a hard crash. Veranix popped up and pressed his boot onto the man’s face.
“Anyone want to be the next?” Veranix asked, pulling up the bow with a nocked arrow. “You’ll all get a turn if you think it’s worth it.”
“He’s only got four arrows!” Lemt shouted. “We can overpower him!”
One of the goons stepped toward Kaiana, and Veranix sent that arrow right into his neck. The man dropped, and Veranix had two more arrows ready.
“That’s a great deal for whoever goes fifth,” Veranix said. “But the next three fellows might not like their odds.”
“You’ve got your back against that store, which also has our boys in it, and we’ve still got the numbers,” Lemt said.
Jendle tried to grab at Veranix’s leg, but Veranix stomped hard on him, and then kicked one of the swords away, near Kaiana’s foot. She scooped it up, holding it out in a fighting stance.
“Blood will cost you blood,” she said. “Think of what it will cost you.”
“I should have hit you harder.”
Jackdaw strolled into view, her bladed oar over her shoulder. Magpie, with an obnoxious smile on her face, was right behind her.
“Didn’t think we’d let you fellas have all the fun,” Magpie said.
“You two had your dance, get to the back of the line,” Veranix said. “Everyone should just stay right where you are for the moment.”
“Someone shut him up!” Jendle shouted.
“I’m more than ready to wipe that grin off his face,” Lemt said, twirling his hatchet.
“Oh no, oh no,” Veranix said. “If we’re gonna have a real fight here, we need to have some ground rules.”
“What is he on about?” Magpie asked.
“I mean, I think we should all agree that punching the tenders is just off limits. That’s not a fair fight.”
“What are you doing?” Kaiana asked.
“I’m buying us time,” Veranix said. “For them.”
“Them” was the dozen Knights of Saint Julian who charged in on the goons. Veranix fired an arrow at Lemt, then another at Magpie, just as Four-Toe—who was covered in blood—came roaring out of the clothing shop.
“Knights stand tall!” he shouted as he leaped into the fray.
Neither of Veranix’s arrows found their target, but he was already moving to spar with Lemt, making a space for Kaiana to have a clear run toward the church.
“Go,” he shouted, drawing the last arrow. “I’ve got you covered!”
Kaiana ran, using the sword to parry and shove off the goon who came at her. Three more surrounded her, and Four-Toe was right at her side, an absolute animal with his knives.
“Safe walk her!” he shouted to the other Knights, pointing to her.
Darts flew past her ear, and she heard Four-Toe cry out as one hit him.
“You aren’t getting out of here, girl!” Magpie shouted. “Not this time!”
Two Knights flanked her just as Magpie jumped in, driving her darts into one of their throats while bringing her boot down on the other’s knee. Kaiana swiped with the sword, a wild swing, but enough to make Magpie stumble back a few steps. Just in the distance, Jackdaw carved through Knights like they were blades of grass.
“Pathetic form, girl, but—” Magpie said before an arrow struck her in the shoulder, knocking her to the ground.
She looked to Veranix, his hand outstretched, his face pale and clammy. He had magicked the arrow to hit her, and that had clearly pushed him too far. How much more could he handle?
“Behind you!” she shouted to him, as Lemt and Jendle were both coming on him with swords and hatchets. He brought up the bow and cane to block, and both cracked under the barrage of blows.
Kaiana wanted to shout, wanted to cry to him, wanted to run in there and beat off all of them, but her feet were frozen.
A thundering sound of hooves bore down on them. Kaiana glanced in their direction, saw a pair of horses galloping at them, pulling a cart that was careening wildly, nearly out of control. And in the driver’s seat: Delmin, looking completely terrified as he tried vainly to hold on to the reins.
“What are you—” she muttered in disbelief.
He lost all control, and the horses whipped around the corner while the cart disengaged completely. Delmin launched into the air, as did the young woman clutching on to him from behind. Someone else launched into the air from the crashing wagon, though she looked like she had jumped clear with intention.
Mila, in her full Rose regalia, with a bundle under one arm and a rope in the other hand. She whipped that rope out as she landed, coiling it around Veranix’s waist. With a yank, she pulled him back toward her, away from Lemt and Jendle, away from Jackdaw’s oar, and into her arms.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she caught him, kissing him as he melted into her embrace.
Then his hand tightened its grip on the rope—Kaiana realized it was his rope, the napranium-laced one—and his pale face flushed. He drew away from Mila and stood straight. He clutched the rope as it wound into a tight coil around his fist. Mila, meanwhile, shoved something else into his other hand—the cloak.
The intersection of Tulip and Tree crackled with energy that even Kaiana could feel, the hairs on her arm standing up. That crackling built up to a flash that forced Kaiana to shut her eyes.
A hand grabbed her throat, and Kaiana opened her eyes to find Magpie on her, one hand choking her while the other brought up a blade.
Before Magpie could bring it down, she was yanked away, pulled up in the air. The rope around her, and Veranix—no, the Thorn. The boy in the shredded school uniform was gone, and now there was just the crimson-clad, shadowy force of nature, pure and powerful like she had never seen. The Thorn held her up high with the rope as magic crackled off him.
“As I said, ground rules,” he said, his voice awesome and terrible. “And the first one is, you do not touch her.”
With the rope in hand, the cloak on his shoulders, Veranix felt a surge of magic course through his exhausted body. That and anger fueled him, kept him on his feet, but it couldn’t be for much longer.
