《The Dreaming Sceptre (Completed)》 The Pikes of Cas The city of Zabyalla slept fitfully as of late. By day, silver, electrum and gold flowed like rivers between bejewelled hands while the perfumes and spices of a hundred realms suffused the arid air. Haggling in a host of languages rose with the dust of horses, camels, and thousands of sandalled feet as false smiles and clasped hands sealed endless bargains. Sweating sailors toiled at their oars, pulling barges laden with gold and slaves up the steaming River of Scales where crocodiles lurked just beneath the water¡¯s sun dappled surface. The beasts had long grown fat on the bodies of those who had succumbed to the journey and been dumped unceremoniously over the sides. From the western harbour, the ships¡¯ cargoes would sojourn to the merchant houses and bazaars, or to the northern harbour facing the Sea of Gods: the great waterway connecting the lengths of two continents and the shores of a dozen empires. Yet, once the reddened sun sank beneath the dry peaks of the west, the life of each day lay drowning beneath a nameless terror. Cedar wood fires were used to ward off the desert nights¡¯ chill, but lately, none burned. Wine and ale houses lay empty in the dark, like tombs. Dancers, carousers and musicians huddled in their homes like hares when the jackal stalks. All fought to deny sleep, for better to face a tired morning than the horror ruling the dreaming world within Zabyalla¡¯s walls. When fatigue could no longer be borne, the exhausted dropped into unwelcomed sleep, writhing and screaming in terror as though scorpions feasted upon them. Even the youngest babes suffered so, though none shrieked louder than the merchant princes and princesses of the city.For decades, they ruled empires of spice and precious metal. Their gleaming palaces of white stone rose like diamonds on a golden crown towering behind walls as thick and high as a fortress. Private legions patrolled their demesnes; veterans, whose bronze lamellar, broad shields and sharp spears shone in both sun and moonlight, but whose courage had withered until they too huddled in the dark, jumping at shadows that danced beyond the flickering light of their torches. They cringed as their masters and mistresses shrieked in sleep above their heads, the stricken voices carrying far from their sanctums and towers. The fortunate would waken more exhausted than the evening before, while the remaining would be found cold and twisted beneath their silken sheets, with countenances contorted in horror so profound that death had come in welcome fellowship. Yet, a single palace in Zabyalla stood free from this nocturnal plague. The House of Cas. One of the youngest of the great merchants, Merchant Prince Cas had forged in six years what his rivals had built over decades. He had quickly taken control of most of the mercantile council, and whispers told that he would soon be called Merchant King Cas, standing above all others in wealth and power. No cries of terror echoed from behind his walls, and his private soldiers patrolled confidently with eyes vigilant and mouths chattering to each other in ease. His enemies, in contrast, suffered worst of all. The Merchant Prince Vishtaspa once secured a promise of a thousand casks from the legendary vineyards of Olubria, which Cas coveted. The next morning, venerable Vishtaspa¡¯s estate was found silent. Every soul that had slept behind its walls had perished in the night. Cas got his wine. Evil rumours spread as to what or who was the source of the nightly horror. For most, deterred by one unspoken conclusion, fear ensured that they would never dare oppose Cas. To others, though, the future merchant king¡¯s growing wealth proved too sweet a song to resist. A forest of pikes rose beside Cas¡¯ gates upon which his guards had impaled the desiccating heads of each thief, cutthroat and barbarian that sought to steal their master¡¯s treasures. The bold, the desperate, the masterful. It mattered not. Compatriots would toast their fallen brethren with cheap wine in darkened huts while staving off the horrors of sleep. As drunkenness grew, so did brash talk as tales would be spun of what kingly prize awaited, and the dreams of boundless wealth grew with every telling. Soon, the foolhardy would be tempted enough to pit their wit and luck against the walls of the merchant prince¡¯s demesne. There was no shortage of brave fools. There was no shortage of heads for Cas¡¯ pikes. This night was no different.
Shick. A bronze dagger sliced a guardsman¡¯s throat. A calloused hand clasped his mouth. The man stiffened, his blood drenching his armour and spurting through the moonlight with each heartbeat. With a shudder and muffled whimper, he went limp. Kashta of Mabatia caught the spear slipping from the corpse¡¯s nerveless fingers. With falcon-like grace, he lowered his victim to the floor and quickly turned to find the other guard already snoring against a silk tapestry. His partner, Prince Aparis of the fallen kingdom of Illia, was carefully tying closed a pouch of white powder. ¡°That works well,¡± Kashta commented. ¡°It had better,¡± Aparis bent over the sleeping guard, watching his face carefully. ¡°My late master used to pay a child¡¯s weight in silver for a handful of this,¡± his lips curled up in satisfaction. ¡°Look! How peacefully he sleeps!¡± Kashta wiped the red from his dagger, then stooped to pat at the belt of the slain man. ¡°It¡¯s as I¡¯ve told you; all in Zabyalla know Cas¡¯ household lays immune to the night terrors. They say Cas is the source.¡± ¡°All rumours need confirmation, Kashta,¡± the young wizard examined the belt of the sleeping guard. ¡°And now we know the truth of it; no doubt Cas found himself some object of power and thinks himself a wizard now¡­ Hmmmm, do you remember when his procession passed through the grand market yesterday morning?¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Kashta scoffed. ¡°Even the priests of Stheno had to make way for them.¡± ¡°Yes, and on his palanquin, he clutched a sceptre to his breast like it was his first born! I¡¯d wager that¡¯s what it is!¡± ¡°Shhh! Keep your voice low!¡± Kashta hissed. Aparis¡¯ voice fell, but he continued his musings as he rummaged through the sleeping man¡¯s belt pouches. ¡°That¡¯s his object of power, no doubt, and I hope the fool enjoyed it while he could,¡± his look turned dark. ¡°Demon¡¯s bile!¡± he swore. ¡°No key on this one! What about yours?¡± ¡°None here either,¡± Kashta threw a nervous glance down the hallway. Two ebony doors rose at the end, twice the height of a tall man, faced in gold and bearing the images of twin goddesses. They clasped hands in greeting, and where their gilded palms met, lay an adamant lock crafted by the trove guardians of Laxondael. Kashta shuddered at the fortune it must have cost; if the two could have stolen those doors, they would live like kings for years. ¡°Your little partner¡¯s source said the hallway guard carried a key! What do we do?¡± Aparis demanded. ¡°Calm yourself,¡± Kashta¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he moved his dark dreadlocks behind his shoulders. ¡°These things happen. You have to adjust,¡± he scratched the stubble on his chin, glancing back down the stairs. ¡°Captain Azar likely carries a key with her, but she won¡¯t be alone.¡± ¡°Does it matter if we find her alone or not?¡± Aparis¡¯ gaze fell to the bronze shamshir resting in a loop on Kashta¡¯s belt. The long, curved blade glinted fiercely in the low light, like a beast¡¯s fang. ¡°Kashta the Talon they call you. They say one could walk twenty days distance from here and never find a sword-arm so quick as yours. They say you are the match of ten.¡± Kashta snorted. ¡°Whoever these babbling they are, they¡¯ve never had a fight in their lives. Azar¡¯s called ¡®The Sting¡¯ for a reason. Nearly as good as I. One against one, I¡¯d wager on myself, but with three or four bronze coats beside her, it wouldn¡¯t matter if I was Kashta the Talon, Kyembe the Spirit Killer, or one of the grand weapon masters of the Cult of Steel. I¡¯d die. The rest of this household would come running as soon as they heard bronze clashing too,¡± he said bitterly. ¡°What about your magic? Can that stop them?¡± Aparis shook his head. ¡°I can subdue one. Maybe two. Had I spells to go against a whole household of soldiers,¡± he gave a savage look. ¡°I¡¯d already be in Heba exacting revenge for their sacking of fair Illia!¡± The swordsman swore. ¡°Then we are ruined! This is why I said we needed Wurhi with us, princeling mage! I should¡¯ve never listened to your traitorous hissing! She can undo these metal fiends!¡± he pointed at the lock. The former prince waved a pale, delicate hand. ¡°Then, we would¡¯ve had to make a two-way split into three for nothing. I said I couldn¡¯t subdue a horde, not that I couldn¡¯t deal with a lock.¡± He dug into one of the many small pouches on his belt and drew a tiny bottle of glass that glinted in the cold light. So clear was it, that one could see every subtle swish of the transparent liquid within. ¡°Djinn¡¯s tears,¡± a smile curved across the former prince¡¯s unblemished face. ¡°Extracted by the binders of the City of Glass, bottled by their sandwrights, and then foolishly bought by a cunning wizard who thought to enslave one who was prince of thousands! The trouble will come if Cas is any magus worth his weight; he will feel the magic being cast and be alerted to our presence.¡± ¡°After all this talk, I¡¯d be surprised if he doesn¡¯t already know we¡¯re here,¡± Kashta grunted, his dark eyes fixed on the bottle like it were a live cobra. Only the stupid or dead did not fear magic. Often, one who quickly became the other. His hand unconsciously drifted to his sword. ¡°Fine, princeling, cast your spell. We¡¯ll get in there and strike Cas¡¯ head off his shoulders as soon as you open the doors. Then, he¡¯ll be too dead to care if we¡¯re here or not and we can take our spoils and begone.¡± ¡°Just remember, above all else, that sceptre comes to me.¡± Kashta only grunted in acknowledgement. The pair of thieves crept to the doors; their sandals nearly soundless on the stone. Aparis crouched before the lock, uncorking his bottle and clasping it in both hands. Kashta watched the hall, ear cocked for the potential approach of jingling bronze or sandals on stairs. Strange words poured from the young wizard¡¯s mouth. An aquamarine glow seeped between his slender fingers. Something seemed to hiss through the air, and¡­ Click! The doors swung open. Creeeeaak. Their groaning shudder masked Kashta¡¯s shamshir sliding from his belt. ¡°Quickly!¡± the warrior hissed. The two rushed into the massive bedchamber, poised for violence. Little light greeted them save that of a scattered pair of oil lamps on ceiling chains and a thin line of moonlight that slipped between the heavy curtains over the balcony. The line of pale illumination marked the stone foot of some enormous bed. Kashta took a step toward it, his sword already rising for a deadly stroke. ¡°Wait!¡± Aparis whispered harshly. ¡°Something¡¯s not right!¡± Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Slow applause echoed in the dark. ¡°Congratulations, little thieves,¡± an urbane baritone mocked. ¡°You have found the sanctum of Cas, future Merchant King of Zabyalla.¡± Hiss. A flickering flame came to life on the far side of the room. Kashta gasped. Merchant Prince Cas sat cross-legged upon a marble throne so massive that the tall man¡¯s form seemed childlike in it, nearly disappearing among the sea of cushions piled around him, all silken and flourished with silver brocade. Midnight curls that spilled to his shoulder ringed his handsome face, and a fine over-robe - a rich, deep blue-black with points of white upon it like stars on a night sky - lay open to reveal heavy pectorals and clear abdominals sculpted from many hours in his house of strength. Jewellery dripped from his body, and a sea of coins, gems, gilded weapons, pearls and silk lay scattered beneath the dais at his feet. ¡°There it is¡­¡± Aparis murmured, ignoring the kingly fortune for one particular treasure. Across the knees Cas held a sceptre of shining platinum. Ancient cuneiform crawled up and down its handle, the characters so sharp that they stung the eye. Violet sapphires encrusted the head, and within each, swam some undulating shadow, tinging their surreal beauty with the essence of a nightmare. Even looking at the thing frayed the nerve. Kashta forced his pounding heart to calm and took a step forward. He pointed his shamshir toward Cas. ¡°We¡¯re taking your fortune, merchant,¡± he spat. ¡°Scream and I¡¯ll flay you before your guards even reach the hall.¡± He would be flaying the man anyway, but there was no need to mention that. ¡°I am Kashta of Zabyalla, who warriors call The Talon. Beside me is Prince Aparis of Illia, who commands wizardry. Follow our words and you may live to see the sun.¡± ¡°Kashta!¡± Aparis cried with sudden alarm. ¡°There¡¯s something else in this room!¡± ¡°You are correct, former prince of Illia.¡± Cas¡¯ teeth shone in the dark. ¡°If a little late in your realization.¡± ¡°Kashta! We have to-¡± The violet sapphires gleamed. Light flared. The black deepened. Sound fled the air. Then an immensity breathed in the dark. ¡°Aparis, behind us! Defend yourself!¡± Kashta cried. The men whirled. The swordsman brought his shamshir into guard position. The wizard held his djinn¡¯s tears high, muttering words of power. Yet, what met their eyes froze them still. Kashta the Talon¡¯s blade slid from numb fingers. Clatter! The bronze rang on tile. Former Prince Aparis of Illia dropped his object of power. Crunch! It shattered on the stones. Both men let out whimpers of primal terror which swelled into shrieks ripping through the night. They were quickly cut off. There was no shortage of brave fools. There was no shortage of heads for Cas¡¯ pikes. This night had been no different. Pacts Broken and New I The sand-coloured wall rose above the dusty street beneath the shadows of Cas¡¯ pikes. Two more had been erected this morning, displaying new heads to the city. In death, Aparis of Illia¡¯s handsome features were twisted in animalistic terror, while the mighty Kashta the Talon was forever frozen in unthinking fear. Flies had gathered on them, and they had already begun to rot under the morning sun. Below, people passed quickly, keeping their eyes lowered and their voices hushed lest some errant glance or whisper catch the attention of the master of this evil place. Yet, one moved not at all. Glaring at the heads from the midst of the crowd was a young woman, dark olive complexioned and black haired, with thin hands clenched into fists so tight her nails stabbed her palms. Her cracked lips were drawn back over her jaw, revealing an overbite and large upper teeth beneath her green beady eyes. This was Wurhi the Rat. The thief who, until this morning, had been partnered with one Kashta the Talon. ¡°Kashta!¡± she shrieked, drawing startled looks from all about her. ¡°You filthy, scum sucking, pus-licking traitor! You stupid, drooling, dead fool!¡± As the crowd drew away from her, she shook her small fists at the dead men. Her voice might have been great, but her stature tiny: a full head shorter than almost all the other women in the street. ¡°Jackal ball-licking wretch!¡± she continued to scream, spittle flying from her mouth. ¡°I told you not to trust that little princeling! And now look at you! Kashta the Talon? No, Kashta the Corpse! What about the debts, you bile drinking, greedy, backstabbing trash?! What am I supposed to do now!? What am I-¡± ¡°You there!¡± Wurhi startled. A tall woman had mounted the wall, brown skinned, lean like a blade, and corded with wiry muscle beneath a polished bronze breastplate and plumed helm. A white cape fell from her shoulders and four heavily built, armoured and armed men flanked her, giving Wurhi the glare of guard dogs. ¡°Shit! Shit!¡± the little thief¡¯s eyes went wide. She¡¯d seen the woman before. Azar the Sting. Captain of Cas¡¯ guard battalion. ¡°Do you know these men?¡± Azar demanded. Wurhi the Rat gave answer by way of running the hell away. ¡°Come back here!¡± the cry rose behind her as she tore down the street and weaved into the throngs. Her small size and narrow build allowed her to pass through tightly packed groups of people with no trouble. She continued sprinting until she¡¯d rounded a corner of an especially crowded street, then raised her hood and slowed to a walk, allowing herself to disappear into the mass of folk. She remained tense long after Cas¡¯ towers had disappeared behind the flat rooftops, but let herself ease when she¡¯d finally reached the river market. If pursuit had been coming, then pursuers would have appeared earlier, and any secret followers would have a hard time tracking her through the morning market hordes. The river market bustled around her. Donkeys and servants pulled carts alongside snorting camels and grunting porters. An elephant, surrounded by guards, quietly parted the crowds, with its owner cross-legged atop its back. On the sides of the street, priests of Amitiyah sang their praises to The Weeping God alongside meditating ascetics of the Circle of Breath. The grim-faced adherents to the Cult of Steel marched through the throng, sweating in their polished armour. Tell-tale signs of exhaustion haunted most faces, but they hid them as best they could. All lay beneath a miasma of worldly spices and the foul odours of the river. Wurhi¡¯s belly grumbled. She decided breakfast was in order. Pulling her hood higher over her distinctive face - the vast majority of street merchants wouldn¡¯t let her within ten paces of their stalls - she merged with the haggling masses and slipped by the stalls of the distracted, her hands darting from her cloak to snatch what she wanted. By the time she¡¯d passed through the market and walked to the river harbour, she had acquired a loaf of bread, a large hunk of goat cheese, and a good handful of dried dates. Her coin purse was no lighter in spite of her acquisitions. Of course, it had been very light to begin with. Alarmingly so. Wurhi the Rat made her way down the quay, passing merchants and bawling sailors stripped to their loincloths, sweating in the sun, hefting heavy burdens off ship. They paid her little heed, though ox-like suntanned guards eyed her suspiciously as she passed, thumbing the ends of dangerous looking clubs. The smells of brackish water, sweat and spices made her nose wrinkle, and she quickened her pace. Gradually, activity lessened as she reached the older part of the wharf. Docked boats were smaller, and each dock she passed, in poor repair and more deserted. The only inhabitants here were some few anglers and vagrants muttering to each other and eating nervously.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. There was even a person who slept under the sun, moaning pitifully, her body unconsciously trying to fend off unseen attackers. Others looked on her with a knowing grimness, but kept their distance, including Wurhi as she passed by. Soon, she¡¯d left even them behind and reached the edge of the wharf, or what was the edge these days. Years ago, there had been one more dock, but ill repair had led it to collapse during a storm leaving only a few stout poles sticking out of the water to connect the lonely dock to the rest. It was all but unreachable, save for someone of Wurhi¡¯s agility and lightness of foot. With a running start, she leapt from the broken edge of the pier and deftly hopped from one pole to the next over swaying reeds and lazy shoreside waters. She landed lightly on the abandoned dock - which only groaned slightly beneath her feet - then sat cross-legged at the end, facing the river. Untying her cloak and laying it to her side, she placed her bounty on it then looked out over the ships, barges, and fisher boats passing over the waters. The little thief broke off a piece of the loaf, chewing the hard bread rapidly. She swallowed. Then she popped a date in her mouth, sucked out the hard pit and spat it into the river. She swallowed the dried fruit, then took a sip from her water-skin. She paused, then lifted her face to the cloudless sky. ¡°Shit! Shiiiiiiit!¡± she screamed. Kashta had ruined her this time. Completely ruined her. The nightmares had made the merchants go sick with paranoia, pouring all into their defences or moving their fortunes out of the city. Good plunder had turned rare, and the thieves desperate. Then that demon-damned princeling had drifted in from Salik, spinning tales of vast fortunes and grand magics waiting within Cas¡¯ walls, all ripe to be picked. The more Aparis had talked, the more his words had planted dreams of impossible wealth in her and Kashta¡¯s minds. In the time of nightmares in Zabyalla, sweet dreams were seductive. The three soon plotted together, though she¡¯d never fully trusted that princeling. She had been right not to; a five-year partnership had dissolved in a single night by Kashta¡¯s backstabbing. Wurhi tore off a chunk of cheese and bit into it aggressively, its pungent sourness spreading across her tongue. Now all alone, what was she to do? Cas¡¯ guards were all hardened veterans and headed by Captain Azar, a monster in the form of a woman. The little thief was no stranger to a street scuffle, but a horde of trained warriors would make quick, bloody work of her were she to be caught. Her head would be on a pike the next morning, and that would be the end of Wurhi the Rat. Worse yet, if the rumours were true, then it was Cas who had infected the entire city¡¯s sleep - including her own - with the worst nightmares every night. A magus who cast spells on a whole city; what good would her single dagger do against that kind of vile magic? She had to accept it. Enacting the plan alone would be suicide. Yet, she might not have any choice about it. Both she and Kashta carried heavy debts to the lenders of The Maw, and time had only seen them grow. Now, they¡¯d pass that dead fool¡¯s responsibilities to her, leaving her to pay a back-breaking sum. How was she supposed to meet that? Filching trinkets from the street? She could do that for half her lifetime and be no closer to paying it down. The terrifying thing was that the bastards¡¯d already know that. They¡¯d have her on a slave scow to Salik in under three sunrises. ¡°Give my head to Cas¡¯ pikes, live under a whip until I drop dead, or run with only the clothes on my back,¡± she sighed, then bit into the loaf. She stiffened and immediately spit it into the water. The bite had been filed with grit from the mill. Much like her whole damn life at the moment. She glumly watched small river fish swarming her bread, then raised her gaze to a massive Nubtukan cargo ship passing mid-river. A deep drumbeat boomed from the deck, keeping time for its multitude of straining oarsmen. She sighed. If only she were on it, sailing far from here. Or better yet, if only she could turn to her damn partner for some damn help. They¡¯d relied on each other. She¡¯d told him all of her secrets. All of them. Of course, he was nowhere around now. He was too busy being greedy and deceitful. And selfish. And dead. ¡°You goat¡¯s bastard. Why¡¯d you have to do it?¡± she sighed again, and lifted the bread to her mouth. Splash! Something hit the water in the distance. Wurhi was on her feet in a heartbeat, her loaf rolling into the river and her hand gripping the hilt of her bronze dagger. Her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed at the water below. She took a step back on the dock. One only underestimated how high a crocodile could leap once. She peered over the river. Where had it come from? Her gaze slowly swept the current¡­ There! A dark figure was cutting the water away from the Nubtukan ship, making for shore. On the deck, the drumbeat stopped as khopesh armed sailors rushed to the side. Wurhi¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Mad bastard!¡± After hurling a few curses, the oarsmen were already being ushered back to their seats with the crack of a whip. They gave no look back to the escapee, and Wurhi knew well why. The crocodiles of the River of Scales would never pass so easy a meal. The figure continued to crawl their way closer. Whoever they were, they were an adept swimmer, and obviously fully intent on living. She glanced to the south, toward the busier parts of the quay. If they managed to make it, far be it from her to let them be beaten by the guards of the wharf. ¡°Stranger!¡± she shouted, waving them over. ¡°Over here! Over here!¡± Splashing stopped. A head came out of the water, swivelling this way and that, too far to make out details ¡°Over here! Here!¡± she cried. ¡°It¡¯s safer!¡± They paused. They seemed to have seen her. ¡°Hurry, fool! Before you¡¯re some river gnasher¡¯s breakfast!¡± That got them moving toward her. ¡°That¡¯s it! Quick! Quick!¡± she scanned the water for signs of giant, scaled bodies, though there¡¯d be nothing she could do if they came. Wurhi didn¡¯t much understand why she cared. Perhaps with her own life taking such an ill turn, she felt some kinship with the stranger¡¯s struggle. Then her eyes caught a massive figure gliding silently beneath the current. ¡°Look out!¡± she cried. ¡°One¡¯s coming for you! Swim! Swim!¡± To their credit, the stranger only paused for a moment to digest her words before they started sprinting through the water as though every demon in the world was after them. Their splashing only seemed to invigorate their pursuer, though, which began to chase them at great speed. ¡°Faster! It¡¯s coming! Swimswimswimswimswim!¡± she cupped her hands to her mouth, screaming. It was no use. Splash! Wurhi groaned as long, crocodilian jaws flashed open above the current, then snapped shut. A man¡¯s startled cry cut off beneath a torrent of water as the beast began to roll its body. The thief grimaced, looking away. She¡¯d seen crocodiles in their death spiral before, and she had no interest in seeing those red waters again. Fighting her churning belly, she bent to pick up her cheese. She doubted she¡¯d be able to finish it now. BHROOM! Tremendous heat buffeted her back. Water burst. Wurhi spun about. Pacts Broken and New II An immense column of boiling water and steam had exploded and was now raining back down over the river. Chunks of scalded and pulped reptile dropped into the water, washing red and black with blood and ash. Wurhi gaped openly. Splash! She yelped, jumping back. A man was climbing out of the water by way of one of the poles of the old dock, which groaned worryingly with his weight. Spluttering and coughing, he pulled himself above the edge and rolled onto the boards, only to immediately turn around and begin retching over the side. ¡°Th-¡± he paused, gagging. ¡°Thank you!¡± He promptly returned to dry heaving into the river. ¡°What in every hell are you!?¡± Wurhi demanded, scurrying to the far end of the dock, her dagger drawn and glinting. The man only wore a loincloth, though he had a great, oiled bundle tied to his back. He was very thin, with slender shoulders narrowing into a leaner torso and hips, but also corded in defined, wiry muscle. If she were to judge by appearances alone, then his dark complexion and short, tightly curled, black hair would have marked him as from one of the lands far south of Nubtuka. Perhaps Mabatia, but he was even darker than Kashta had been. Yet, the features that drew her eye most belonged to no tribe, realm, or land she¡¯d ever heard of. His ears narrowed into sharp points and though his eyes were nearly human, their colours were a bloody crimson. ¡°Answer me!¡± she brandished her dagger. ¡°If you¡¯re some demon then I¡¯ll put you back in the river with your throat open! What are you?!¡± He coughed a few more times before panting and slowly rising to his feet. River water trickled down his frame. She stepped back further. He was taller than she¡¯d first thought and a narrow, straight-bladed sword glinted at his waist. The hilt and cross guard were of ivory and the blade shone not with the yellow of bronze, but the silver of steel. The stranger held his hands away from it. ¡°I am a man,¡± he declared in slightly accented Makkadian, the tongue of the Zabyallans. ¡°One very much not wanting to get stabbed.¡± He gave her a nervous smile. She did not return it. ¡°What sort of man has eyes like blood and ears like knives?¡± she stepped back further, shifting her weight to her back foot. ¡°What sort of man explodes crocodiles and burns water?¡± If he went for his sword or tried whatever he did to that beast, she would be inside his reach with her dagger planted in his heart before he had a chance. At least, she hoped so. His smiled dropped. ¡°I am no demon,¡± he insisted. ¡°My mother was of the dark elves who dwell far north in the caverns beneath the earth. That is what my father told me, and I am not going to attack the woman who helped me get to shore. Kyembe of Sengezi knows gratitude.¡± ¡°And I don¡¯t know you at all,¡± she growled back. ¡°Even if what you say is true, if you¡¯re no demon then you¡¯re some kind of wizard, and that¡¯s near as bad!¡± The man called Kyembe groaned. ¡°I suppose if I stood where you stood, I would not trust me either. Fine, let me sit here awhile to get my breath, and then I will go and we will never meet again. Alright?¡± Her thoughts raced, looking for any sort of trap in his words. Guilt began to gnaw at her. He had only thanked her for guiding him to shore, after all. The man obviously had gone through trying times and if he were a demon, why would he stowaway on a ship and then come attack her at random? She looked again to his inhuman features. Besides, she was one of the last people who could judge someone based on those. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m sorry I called you a demon. You startled me.¡± He shrugged, then unceremoniously dropped down on his rump. ¡°It is all well, after all, you did not stab me,¡± he looked at her closely, his head lolling lazily to the side. He moved like water, she noticed. ¡°May I have your name?¡± Her stomach grumbled quietly, and she found her thoughts returning to the cheese on her cloak. She began cursing herself for needlessly dropping the bread. ¡°Wurhi,¡± she cautiously sheathed her dagger. ¡°Wurhi of Zabyalla.¡± Kyembe froze, those inhuman eyes growing wide. They were very large, and the features around them symmetrical and somewhat feminine. She thought his face would have been quite at home on a handsome woman. Minus the eyes, of course. It was too bad. Had it been a woman that crawled from the water, Wurhi might have propositioned her right there. With only a few hours of freedom or life ahead, she was feeling a little bold. Not to mention desperate. ¡°Wurhi of Zabyalla¡­¡± he said slowly. ¡°¡­do folk call you Wurhi the Rat?¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Her mind hadn¡¯t left the cheese. ¡°Some do.¡± Kyembe let out a deep laugh. ¡°By the stars! I did not expect the first person I meet here to be a woman of reputation!¡± Now her thoughts shifted from her meal. ¡°What reputation? Where? Where? Where do they speak of Wurhi the Rat?¡± ¡°Many places!¡± he spread his arms wide. She noticed a ring shining on one of his fingers. ¡°The thieves of Nubtuka toast you over beer! The merchants of Lexondael curse you over wine! The mercenaries of the dragon princes say you follow Kashta the Talon-¡± ¡°No,¡± she cut him off, frowning. ¡°I didn¡¯t follow anyone. Kashta and I were equal partners. Equal! Equal!¡± ¡°Ah, well that is just what they said-wait,¡± he paused. ¡°¡®Were¡¯?¡± ¡°Kashta of Mabatia is dead,¡± she said flatly. Kyembe stiffened, sucking in a breath. ¡°That is awful. I wished to cross swords with ¡®The Talon¡¯ at least once. And you have lost a partner. I am sorry,¡± he bowed his head. ¡°May his spirit find solace.¡± She spit over the dock into the foul waters, then laughed bitterly. ¡°Kashta of Mabatia betrayed me before he was killed. I don¡¯t mourn for him.¡± ¡°Oh, well that is different,¡± Kyembe straightened. ¡°May his spirit be eaten by worms.¡± She snorted in amusement. ¡°What was your name again?¡± ¡°Kyembe of Sengezi.¡± ¡°Right¡­wait,¡± she looked at him more closely. ¡°The same Kyembe that folk call ¡®The Spirit Killer¡¯?¡± He gave a languid shrug. ¡°I cannot say who ¡®that folk¡¯ speak of for sure; maybe another ¡®Kyembe of Sengezi¡¯ has taken up travel since I last looked, but that is probably me.¡± He gave a somewhat mischievous smile. ¡°Only the good things, though. If they speak ill of Kyembe, then it must be this other Kyembe of Sengezi they refer to.¡± ¡°Hah!¡± she scoffed. ¡°And what if I tell folk that I found you climbing out of the River of Scales, looking like a half-drowned mouse?¡± His smile widened, and he spread his hands in mock helplessness. ¡°Then I could only say that Wurhi the Rat must have seen this other ¡®Kyembe of Sengezi¡¯, for I would never be brought so low.¡± ¡°Pfft!¡± she chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s something only an ass would say.¡± ¡°Aaaaah, ¡®Kyembe the Ass¡¯,¡± he nodded in a sagely manner. ¡°Another name I am known by, though it was only regularly used by my father.¡± In spite of recent troubles, Wurhi found herself breaking down into low, but genuine laughter. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect a man of reputation to come crawling out of the water to jest with me.¡± ¡°Sometimes life gives us happy accidents,¡± he said, his eyes falling beside her. ¡°Wurhi, I hate to ask more of my saviour, but would you spare some of that cheese? I have had no food for days.¡± She gave a brief glance at her breakfast, internally calculating how much it would take to fill her stomach. Part of her balked at giving any of it away, but she was small and, even without the bread, had more than enough to fill her belly. No reason to be cruel to a starving man. ¡°I¡¯ll give you half, but no more.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Half sounds like a feast.¡± Wurhi cautiously approached, but the Sengezian made no sudden movements as she carefully broke the crumbly goat cheese. He watched it like a cat would a mouse, then quickly snatched his half as soon as she offered it, biting down with fervour. He groaned in appreciation. She watched him with half-amusement, half-astonishment. ¡°You weren¡¯t lying about not having eaten, were you? How¡¯d you come to be hiding on that scow with no food?¡± ¡°Mmp¡­had to¡­mmph,¡± he chewed and swallowed between massive bites. ¡°Leave Nubtuka quickly.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± her head cocked in professional interest. Her eyes subtly darted toward his oiled bundle. ¡°What¡¯d you steal?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Nothing. I angered Wizard-Priest Buneb¡¯s followers.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± she barely hid her disappointment. ¡°Never heard of him. How¡¯d you do that?¡± He tore away another piece and swallowed quickly. ¡°First Buneb learned that Priestess Takhat had slept with me.¡± ¡°Why would he care? That his daughter?¡± He shook his head. ¡°His wife.¡± She grimaced. ¡°That¡¯d do it.¡± ¡°And as it happened,¡± he continued. ¡°He¡¯d bound a greater demon as a pet. He decided to set it upon me,¡± his lips drew together. ¡°Foul thing. Buneb amused himself by feeding it slaves who displeased him.¡± Wurhi stared at him. He took another bite. ¡°I took offence to that, so I burnt it alive with hellfire.¡± She continued to stare at him. ¡°After that, I was still somewhat offended, so I broke into the temple, cut Buneb open and hung him by his guts,¡± he laughed darkly. ¡°No more demons for him.¡± He swallowed. ¡°But Priestess Takhat was less than amused, as were his acolytes. I hid on that ship for three days while they searched before it finally left harbour, and kept stowing away until here.¡± She continued to stare at him. ¡°What? It happens.¡± ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t.¡± He paused. ¡°Fair enough,¡± he conceded, taking another bite of cheese. She shook her head and returned to her own meal. A quiet settled over the two, broken only by the lap of water on the dock and their chewing. After a time, Kyembe opened his bundle and began inspecting the contents, which turned out to be his clothes protected from the water and the filth of the ship. He shrugged on a white knee-length tunic, then gingerly pulled out an old, frayed cloak that looked like it would crumble to tattered thread at any moment. Whatever colour it had once been, it was now a dull brown-grey. He eyed it critically. ¡°I need a new one,¡± he muttered. He pulled out a coin purse from the bundle, and Wurhi noticed a distinct lack of metal clinking. He opened it, peered inside, and then made a face of disgust. ¡°I do not know why I bothered,¡± he tossed it to the dock. Seeing that returned Wurhi¡¯s thoughts to her current troubles. A wild idea began to form in her mind. She¡¯d heard things about Kyembe the Spirit Killer. Among them was that he kept his oaths. ¡°Hey.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± he finished licking the last bits of cheese from his fingers. ¡°How would you feel about getting rich, Kyembe of Sengezi?¡± He looked down at the sad, empty purse beside him. Then he looked back up at her. ¡°How do you think?¡± Wurhi grinned widely. ¡°Is Kyembe the Spirit Killer above theft?¡± ¡°Depends on who one is stealing from.¡± ¡°What if it was from the filthiest, most fatted sow of a merchant in Zabyalla? One who uses magic to give the whole city filthy nightmares every night just so he can get richer?¡± ¡°Hmmmm,¡± Kyembe rubbed his chin. ¡°Then I would say that is not so much theft as it is a rescue. A man like that would abuse his fortune as surely as a drunk farmer would his ox. That is too shameful to let stand. I am sure Wurhi of Zabyalla and Kyembe of Sengezi could give it a better home.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be dangerous.¡± He grinned back. ¡°Rescues always are.¡± ¡°Half each of whatever we carry?¡± ¡°That¡¯s only fair unless one of us brings a mule. When are we going?¡± She looked at him seriously. ¡°It has to be tonight.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯d better hurry and explain all the details.¡± Wurhi the Rat chuckled. ¡°Let¡¯s make an oath.¡± She balled her hand into a fist, kissed it, then extended it toward Kyembe. ¡°I, Wurhi of Zabyalla, will not betray you, dishonour you, or steal your share.¡± Kyembe made a fist of his own and kissed it. ¡°I, Kyembe of Sengezi will not betray you, dishonour you, or steal your share.¡± The two pressed their knuckles to each other. The oath was sealed. The Rogues in the Garden I ¡°Hrrrgh! Graaagh!¡± Merchant Princess Feruzeh stared lifelessly from silken cushions as Cas, clad in only a loincloth to display his body, hefted a heavy stone in the middle of his house of strength. His grunts filled the high-ceilinged chamber, and sweat poured down his carefully built musculature. ¡°Graaaagh! Hrruuuugh!¡± His cries were unseemly, forced from his lungs with the enthusiasm of a jabbering ape, and she could vaguely tell he was being purposefully loud. Yet, exhaustion had yoked her with a burden so heavy that she could not bring herself to care. She could not remember her last night of full rest, and sleep deprivation had only built over time. The world seemed to be in constant fog, her mind often went blank mid-thought, and her gait wavered whenever she walked. Cas had laid out a veritable feast of fresh grapes, wine, dried dates, and lamb roasted in cumin, but her stomach constantly churned so heavily these days that the delicious smells only sickened her further. And Cas knew all of it. Why else would he arrange for her to meet him in his house of strength and force her to sit through his daily exercises? It was an insult, and at one time she would have burst from his palace in outrage. As it was now, though, she was grateful for his grunts. They helped keep her awake. Away from the crawling horrors that visited every time she dozed. SLAM! Cas dropped the weight onto a pad of burlap filled with straw, and then stretched, yawning widely like a lion. ¡°All done,¡± he finally acknowledged her, sauntering over and dropping to the cushions across the platters. ¡°Why did you call me, Cas?¡± she muttered in a weak voice. Squelch. He bit into a handful of grapes, and his chewing filled the room. Juice ran down his chin as he kept full eye contact without bothering to wipe it. ¡°We will trade,¡± he declared. Squelch. He continued to chew loudly. ¡°I understand you have acquired star anise from Nayokhram. I want it. All of it.¡± Feruzeh cringed. She should have known this was coming. ¡°What¡­¡± she asked reluctantly. ¡°What do you offer in trade?¡¯ Squelch. He continued to chew. ¡°Wheat from Nubtuka. Hundredweight for a hundredweight.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an insult!¡± she balked, briefly returning to full alertness. ¡°A common crop for a rare spice in equal portion?! You¡¯re robbing me!¡± He popped another grape into his mouth, not even bothering to close it as he burst the plump fruit between his teeth. ¡°No. It¡¯s a fine trade. Everyone needs to eat. Not everyone needs to taste. Wheat is guaranteed, while your spice might sit in your warehouses until it turns to dust.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I already have buyers, Cas, you can¡¯t-¡± ¡°I think,¡± he cut her off. ¡°You would sleep better if you considered my offer.¡± Her words died in her mouth. ¡°¡­what?¡± ¡°Merchant Prince Navid spurned an offer of mine last week,¡± Cas gripped a piece of lamb by the bone and bit into it, the meat juices mixing with the grape already marring his face. ¡°It seemed he regretted his choice so dearly that the guilt drove him into night terrors. The poor old man¡¯s heart gave out,¡± he shook his head mournfully. ¡°First his daughter died the same way, and now the old man. Navid¡¯s poor grandson, scarcely little more than a boy, is forced to take up his mother¡¯s and grandfather¡¯s seat as head of house and part of the mercantile council.¡± He lifted a golden rhyton cup, forged in the shape of a monstrous winged lion. ¡°May his term last a lifetime,¡± he pronounced, then noisily guzzled the wine within. Feruzeh was far too perturbed and exhausted to join his toast, but he paid that no heed. ¡°It¡¯s a shame though. It seems that Navid¡¯s line has weak hearts. So many die so easily in sleep.¡± Cas fixed Feruzeh with a piercing look, like the eagle would to a lone lamb as it circled high above. ¡°Tell me, Feruzeh. Is your heart strong? Your husband¡¯s? Your mother¡¯s? Your daughters¡¯?¡± As the merchant princess began to tremble, Cas reached over and placed a free hand on the jewel-encrusted sceptre he always carried these days. Her gaze drew to it, as though compelled by some sinister force, and took in every single sharp line of those evil looking glyphs. The violet jewels shone like a multitude of insectile eyes, glaring at the world with brute instincts and the ravenousness of a locust swarm. The smile Cas gave her seemed to mirror that bottomless hunger, and he slowly made a fist, kissed it and offered it to her. ¡°Do we have trade?¡± She nearly recoiled, wanting nothing more than to never touch that vile hand. Yet, even through her foggy thoughts, the faces of her family came to mind. She imagined them twisted in their beds, their bodies forever frozen in final horror. She gave a great, heaving shudder that quite nearly became a sob. Then she kissed her fist and reluctantly knocked her knuckles to his. ¡°We have trade,¡± she muttered. ¡°Good!¡± he finally wiped his chin. He clapped twice. His servants and guards immediately appeared from darkened alcoves. Her own followed, but with the gait of dying men. ¡°Come! Let us feast in celebration in the main hall! Then you can go home to a good night¡¯s rest,¡± he peered at Feruzeh closely. Then he outright smirked. ¡°You look like you need it.¡± Some hours later, when the moon was high, the arid air cool and the merchant princess long departed in defeat, a pair of figures slipped to the bottom of Cas¡¯ walls. With cloaks wrapped tight around them and hoods pulled high, Wurhi the Rat and Kyembe the Spirit Killer scaled the wall, their deft hands quickly finding grip on the rough stone. Pausing to peer over the parapet and seeing no nearby patrol, the two darted to the other side and dropped into the gardens below. They crouched in the dark among the fruit trees and low ferns with the undulating chirping of crickets filling the night. ¡°Quick! Quick now!¡± Wurhi whispered, beginning to crawl forward. ¡°Wait!¡± Kyembe held up a hand. He had one pointed ear cocked toward the dark. ¡°Do you hear that?¡± The little thief halted, listening carefully to the shadowed foliage. ¡°All is quiet to me.¡± He shook his head. ¡°There are beasts padding in the dark. Three to our left, two to our right.¡± Wurhi swore quietly. ¡°Cas¡¯ mastiffs. I¡¯ve lost a few friends to their teeth.¡± ¡°Hrm,¡± Kyembe looked up to the trees. ¡°No wind tonight. We can avoid their noses if we keep our distance.¡± ¡°We can do better than that,¡± the little woman dug into one of several pouches in her tunic and drew something she¡¯d stolen that afternoon: a chunk of spiced goat about the size of a child¡¯s fist. Carefully, she unraveled a sling from her belt, and placed it within. ¡°I¡¯m going to toss this to the south,¡± she whispered. ¡°Tell me as soon as those dogs move, then guide us around them.¡± Kyembe nodded. He rose into a half crouch, ready to spring at any moment. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh! She slung the meat into the dark, sending it crashing into the underbrush. A guttural barking resounded from the south, approaching where it fell. ¡°This way!¡± Kyembe said in hoarse whisper. The Rogues in the Garden II The two shot through the undergrowth as quickly, but quietly, as they could. They kept to the flora, only darting into the moonlit stone paths when there lay no other way forward. Periodically, Kyembe would stop their advance, cock an ear to the air, and change their direction. Wurhi heard nothing at those times, and was forced to trust the Sengezian¡¯s sharp ears, much to her nervousness. They passed looming garden statues of winged lions, ferocious demon-dogs, and towering stone men with bird-like wings and sinister faces. Then the undergrowth abruptly ended. A clear cobblestone courtyard separated them from Cas¡¯ main sanctum for twenty long paces. The only cover lay in the shadow of a towering marble fountain sculpted in the image of a choir of maidens and young boys. They emptied their water urns into the bowl below, fed by some deviltry of engineering or magecraft beyond Wurhi¡¯s ken. Her interest was more in what lay directly below the fountain. A pair of Cas¡¯ guards lounged idly at its foot, enjoying the water falling and fending off the dry air. The pale moonlight illuminated their faces, revealing their lips moving and their eyes alert. Wurhi strained her ears, but couldn¡¯t make out what they said over the fountain¡¯s babble. ¡°They speak of the dogs,¡± Kyembe whispered, drawing a look of surprise from her. ¡°They say that they did not bark very much, and so think they merely chase a bird. Good for us, but I think they will not move for a time,¡± his red eyes squinted. ¡°Hold here, I will be back quickly.¡± Wurhi startled. ¡°Wait-¡± By the time she started protesting, his form had already melted into the brush. ¡°Shit, shit!¡± she swore, crouching low among the ferns. Her heart pounded in her ears as the time trickled by at a crawl, with each moment making her more tense than the last. It quickly occurred to her that he could have just slipped off to find another way in for himself. Then a guttural barking resounded from the north. She stiffened. It was close, very close. What was that bastard doing?! At first the guards paid it little heed, but as it kept on with increasing insistence, they began to show interest. The two came to their feet and, with spears levelled, advanced toward the noise. She pressed herself low amongst the underbrush as they entered the garden and disappeared. ¡°Quickly now!¡± a voice whispered from beside her. Wurhi nearly screamed as evil looking red eyes hovered in the dark.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°The dogs are on their way!¡± Kyembe hissed beneath the barking. ¡°Come!¡± He darted from the brush and after a moment of quieting her rampaging panic, she followed. The two crossed the moonlit courtyard at speed as the barking echoed at their backs, and pressed against the stone building, tucking themselves into the shadows. ¡°My source said that just ahead is the servant¡¯s entrance. It¡¯s only watched by an occasional patrol. That¡¯ll be our way in,¡± she crept forward along the wall, then peered around the corner. She stiffened, internally cursing her treacherous partner and that idiot princeling. Two guards were posted by the entrance, and they looked like they had no intenton moving. No doubt it was in response to Kashta and Aparis¡¯ failure the night before. ¡°Damn you, how much did you tell them before they killed you?¡± she muttered beneath the continued barking. Kyembe peered around the corner above her and grimaced. ¡°Is there another way in?¡± ¡°The front entrance and the kitchen door.¡± ¡°Let us not take that first one. Do you know where the kitchen is?¡± She lifted her face to the air, taking a couple of deep sniffs. It was faint, but there was the welcoming scent of burnt cedar, roasted meat and enticing spices. ¡°This way,¡± she said. She did not notice Kyembe watching her intently before following. ¡°Is it close?¡± he glanced back to the gardens. She sniffed again. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good,¡± he made a curious gesture, and the barking abruptly ended. Wurhi threw a surprised look between the foliage and her companion, but he waved it off. She supposed she shouldn¡¯t be surprised with what he did to the crocodile in the river. They rounded the building, closing in on a great stone chimney that loomed high in the dark, and saw a wooden door close to it. Kyembe quickly pulled at the ring, then frowned. ¡°It is barred.¡± ¡°Up there,¡± Wurhi pointed up the wall to a curtained window half again Kyembe¡¯s height. It was a tiny thing, too narrow for even a man of his leanness to fit through, but for Wurhi the Rat, it might as well have been a doorway. ¡°Lift me up, and I¡¯ll climb through and unbar the door.¡± Kyembe frowned. ¡°And if there¡¯s a guard on the other side?¡± She silently drew her dagger in reply. ¡°I¡¯ll worry about that. Now, hurry! Quick! Quick!¡± she said, biting the blade between her teeth. Balancing on Kyembe¡¯s hands, Wurhi was hoisted up with a quiet grunt until she was eye level with the portal. Carefully pulling the curtain aside, she crawled forward, wriggling through the window and dropping silently onto a stone countertop. She froze. A quiet snoring came from the other side of the room. Nervously, she remained still like a small animal, but the breathing did not change in rhythm nor show any sign of its owner coming to wakefulness. Cautiously, she stepped around the clay cups and plates scattered on the counter and slipped down onto the dirt floor. She stalked through the miasma of smells - burnt cedar, food, spices - and came upon the source, a single guardsman curled up against the pantry door. He was an ox of a man, sleeping deeply with powerful arms folded over his lamellar and helmet and spear lain beside him. Bread crumbs filled his beard and the floor beneath. Wurhi tightened her jaw in a surge of jealousy. When last had she or anyone else slept so peacefully in Zabyalla outside of these walls? Briefly, she considered making sure that the lout would never wake, but she was not so low as to slay folk for mere agitation. His dereliction of duty only aided her anyway, and he might cry out before she finished him off. Tunk. Tunk. A light knock upon the outer door. She rushed to it. ¡°Shhhh!¡± she hissed from between clenched teeth. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°The barking made them suspicious!¡± Kyembe¡¯s distraught voice cut through the wood in low, hoarse tones. ¡°A patrol is coming! Let me in!¡± Wurhi¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°Shit! Shit! Alright!¡± She reached under the bar to lift it. Burly arms wrapped around her neck and chest. The Rogues in the Garden III ¡°Ukh!¡± she gave a strangled cry as they lifted her from her feet. The stink of sweat and tang of bronze burned her nostrils. The grip tightened, cutting off her air. ¡°I¡¯ve caught a rat in the kitchen,¡± a coarse voice blew its hot, sour breath into her ear. ¡°That¡¯s no good. Vermin has no business around the master¡¯s food.¡± Panic surged through her as she kicked the air and stabbed backward with her dagger. Cring! Cring! It clattered dully on her assailant¡¯s armour, scraping across the lamellar¡¯s plates. A rough hand caught her wrist in an expert grip of stone, squeezing and bending it back. She yelped. The knife fell uselessly to the earth. ¡°Make it easy for me,¡± he whispered. ¡°Die quick.¡± She screeched into his arm. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Kyembe¡¯s muffled voice demanded. Her head began to spin. Her lungs stung. Air refused to pass his hold. She bit into the meat of his forearm. A groan of pain. His hand let go of her wrist. She reached down for- Bang! He drove his fist into her temple. Agony exploded from her skull and ripped through her whole body. Her bones felt like they were breaking apart and coming back together. Bang! A second blow. She went limp. ¡°Little maggot,¡± he cursed, touching the bite. ¡°You took a chunk out of my-¡± he paused, looking at her closely. Then he recoiled. ¡°What!? What in all the hells are-¡± Shhhhnk. Wurhi slipped the curved dagger from his belt and drove it up and back. It sank deep into his throat. ¡°Hugruk!¡± he choked as she twisted the knife. Hot liquid sprayed over her in the dark. Her nose filled with the iron tang of blood. His grip loosened. She wriggled free, then drove the knife into him again. Then again. She rabidly stabbed him through the gaps in his armour until he finally crumpled to the earth with the gurgle of a drowning man. He twitched, then lay still. Wurhi doubled over, desperately trying to regain her breath with her hands planted on her knees. Her vision swam and her chest hurt, but sweet, sweet air returned. ¡°Wurhi! Wurhi! What¡¯s happening? Wurhi! Damn all demons, I¡¯m coming in!¡± ¡°Wait!¡± she wheezed, dragging herself to the door. No sooner had she lifted the bar did Kyembe quickly rush inside, snatch it from her and rebar it. He let out a sigh. ¡°They had almost found me. What happened to y-By the stars!¡± his eyes widened at the sight of her covered in blood and the body sprawled on the floor.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Keep it down! Down!¡± she hissed. His jaw clamped shut, and when he spoke again it was much quieter. ¡°By the stars, that was a big man. Are you hurt?¡± She tried to shake away her dizziness. ¡°He thumped me in the head.¡± He hissed in alarm, then crouched beside her. ¡°Head wounds are bad. I am going to touch you now, okay?¡± ¡°Wait, why?¡± she tried to pull back, but the ground lurched beneath her. ¡°I want to do something that will help you,¡± he looked at her anxiously. ¡°It would be better to do it soon.¡± ¡°¡­fine.¡± Carefully, he pressed his palms to the sides of her head and closed his eyes. A dim light seemed to glow from the corners of her vision, and a tingling from his delicate hands seeped into her skin. It spread out before sinking deeper into the flesh and bones, immediately settling the ringing in her skull. Her pain shrivelled until it disappeared, and even her built up fatigue was chased away as newfound energy filled her. When he finally removed his hands, she blinked in surprise. ¡°Thanks,¡± she murmured. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°Guided some of the eldritch energies I command into your body. It healed your wounds and revitalized you,¡± he looked into her eyes carefully from different angles. ¡°And what about that barking outside?¡± ¡°An old illusionist¡¯s trick. Capture a sound you have heard and then release its echo somewhere else. The trick does not work as well on the strong minded, especially if they have reason to believe it false. Even the most dull witted would likely have discovered the ruse, though, once they found no dog present to make the noise. It has its limits.¡± She frowned. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say you could do these things before? We could¡¯ve planned for them.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± he smiled ruefully. ¡°My apologies, I am more used to being alone. But in my defence,¡± he looked at her pointedly. ¡°I doubt you have revealed all your secrets.¡± Wurhi met his levelled gaze, swallowing a surge of nerves. Did he already know? Before she could pursue it, he¡¯d returned his attention to the recumbent form below. ¡°I will drag him into the pantry before we move on. Please watch the hall to see if it is clear.¡± She looked to the body, gnawing her lip. ¡°Alright, be quick! Quick!¡± Kyembe grunted as he struggled to pull the massive man in armour toward the pantry while Wurhi peered into the darkened hall. To her relief and pleasant surprise, she found it unoccupied. Something actually went right tonight. For the most part, events had not been conspiring in her favour. They were yet undiscovered, but had already put the outer guards on alert and left lingering scents behind for the dogs to find. Need drove them to an entrance they had little knowledge of, and Wurhi had nearly died here. Now, there was a body that anyone could discover. Things were falling more out of her control and into the fickle hands of chance. The mad demons and gods that ruled the world rarely rolled chance in her favour. Yet, if she fled now, what would she do? The lenders of The Maw would not magically vanish. Neither would Kyembe the Spirit Killer. How would he react to the loss of his promised plunder? She did not know him, and more and more wondered just what madness had seized her to partner with the strange Sengezian. She¡¯d heard he kept oaths, but also knew many folk of excellent reputation and absolutely vile morality. They usually kept their reputations excellent by ensuring no one lived to speak of their ill deeds. Was this man like that? In truth, her trust in him was vanishing. He¡¯d helped her and was polite enough, but what other magics had he hidden safely behind that silver tongue? Would she find his sword in her belly if she suggested leaving empty handed? It¡¯d happened to other thieves. He¡¯d even admitted to gutting a man and laughed while he did. And who was to say what he would do if they met success? Perhaps half a share would be suddenly too little, and she¡¯d find herself as nothing more than ash and boiled meat floating in the River of Scales. Just like the crocodile. If Kashta, her partner of over five years could betray her so easily, then why couldn¡¯t he? ¡°It is done,¡± he said suddenly from very close. She suppressed a yelp. How did he keep managing to sneak up on her like that? ¡°You look nervous,¡± he frowned. ¡°Do not worry. Things still go in our favour, and if they do not, we will make our own luck.¡± His words were too easy, voice too calm and smile just a little too wide. His teeth and eyes stood out in the dark, reminding her of some predator stalking from an alleyway. She pulled away a little. His smile lessened. ¡°Where do we go now?¡± he asked. She tried to drag her thoughts away from considering knifing him before he could get her. ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± she admitted. ¡°I paid my source to give us a route, but only from the servant¡¯s entrance.¡± She gave a flinty look toward the unlit hall. ¡°I have no idea where this leads.¡± ¡°Hrm,¡± unnervingly, he dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword. ¡°Then I shall take on the lead for now. When you think you have found something that you know about, just speak. Okay?¡± Wurhi nodded. ¡°Mrm.¡± Kyembe stepped into the hall and she quietly followed his back. She wondered if she would have to drive a dagger into that back before long. Bronze and Flame I Cas of Zabyalla reclined on the balcony of his bedchamber, watching the moon soar above while snacking on heavily seasoned roast finch skewered on the leg-bone of a hare. His back sank as easily into the cushions of his divan as the night¡¯s wine and feast had sank into his belly. Behind him, a young boy plucked the strings of a harp with talented fingers, filling the cool night with its melody. It all made him feel comfortable. Lazy. He smiled, gently caressing the glyphs on his sceptre. Of course, he no longer had any need for sleep. With a contented sigh, he returned his gaze to Zabyalla. The windows were darkened, all in fearful deference to his power and control. Much of the world¡¯s wealth flowed through this city, it had become an extension of his will. A great claw to close around anything he desired. ¡°Mm,¡± he grunted, licking his lips. ¡°Like the lion.¡± ¡°Pardon, Master Cas?¡± Azar asked. He threw an annoyed glance at his guard captain who¡¯d finished her daily report. She was competent in the extreme, but of dour mood and ill humour. He paid her well enough, could she not have some cheer while protecting his body and property? Perhaps he should rid himself of her. He looked down at the sceptre, fascinated by its violet lustre. Did he not have far more protection than any mortal warrior could provide? ¡°It is nothing,¡± he waved her away with a hand dripping in jewelled rings. A platinum bracer enwrapped his muscular forearm. ¡°I merely remarked that I was like the lion.¡± Azar frowned. ¡°I suppose my master¡¯s hair does look somewhat like the mane of the beast.¡± ¡°No, no,¡± he shook his head. ¡°Have you no poetry in you, Azar? Look,¡± he gestured to the piled gold, jewels and finery he¡¯d cast over the floor of his bedchamber like the treasure hoard of a great dragon. ¡°All of this has been brought to me by the merchants of the city. I need not lift-¡± he raised a pinky clad in an emerald-crowned platinum ring. ¡°-a single finger to obtain it. Is that not like the proud lion? He reclines on his rock while his lionesses seek prey for him. In turn, he protects the pride from threats such as wandering lions. Do you truly not see the parallel?¡± The muscular woman shook her head, causing him to heave a great sigh. ¡°Come now, think!¡± he cried in mock anger. ¡°I am the lion. The merchants around are my lionesses, while the entire city is my prey palace,¡± he gestured again to his treasure. ¡°I control my huntresses, and in turn, protect the interests of myself and Zabyalla. The thieves that come to my sanctum to die are young, nomadic lions who fall before my might and that of my guards. Hence, I am the lion of Zabyalla. Its Merchant King.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Azar frowned. ¡°I see,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Very good, Master Cas.¡± He sighed. ¡°Never mind, captain.¡± ¡°But, about protecting the city¡¯s interests¡­¡± He groaned wearily. ¡°This again?¡± ¡°Forgive my rudeness,¡± she bowed. ¡°But it¡¯s something that begs thought, Master Cas. As we grow strong, the other merchant houses falter. Outsiders will have noticed.¡± ¡°It is of no consequence.¡± ¡°Master Cas. I have marched as a mercenary under more banners than I have years. The Nubtukans and Hebans have always wanted to add Zabyalla to their empires, and the Skyjernan pirates hunger for our harbours. The armies of the merchant princes are feared by all the world, but now they grow weak. Soon outsiders will see that only Cas is strong and say he is but one. Then they will come. Master, even the lion has things to fear.¡± Cas¡¯s laughter boomed out over the moonlit bathing pool far below his balcony. ¡°Azar. I tell you; we have no worries!¡± ¡°Master-¡± ¡°Enough,¡± he said firmly. ¡°You¡¯re boring me, Azar. Why do you always have to bore me?¡± Her jaw tightened, but she quickly lowered her head. ¡°Forgiveness, Master Cas.¡± ¡°Forgiven,¡± he said lightly. ¡°Now I think I shall retire. You may leave me, and take the boy with you.¡± ¡°Yes, Master,¡± she bowed deeply. ¡°I will set the doubled guard to the hall as we discussed this morning.¡± ¡°Whatever,¡± he waved her off. When she had gone, Cas chuckled to himself, lifting the sceptre before him. Nubtuka? Heba? Pirates? How droll. What did he have to fear from human vultures when he grasped the very key to terror itself? The Dreaming Sceptre. How blessed he had been to find it. The artifact was home to a demon, and not one of the tame things conjured by the Nubtukan wizard-priests. No, this was a true abomination; an eater of gods, spirits and mortals. An apex predator that stalked the world of dreams, spreading night terrors in its wake and killing with only fear itself. And it was his! His! Mighty spells interwoven in the sceptre not only kept the demon¡¯s life force in the material world, but also bound it to the wielder¡¯s will. They made it his servant, but Cas was no fool. Ever since he first called it out of its home, he¡¯d treated with it politely and strived to feed its desires for death, fear and cruelty. While the magic ensured it would never turn on him, his conduct ensured it would have little need to. He gave it free run of an entire city every night in return for simply completing a few tasks among its normal activities. The death of a rival here. The implantation of a suggestion within a dream there. All things so simple, they were nearly beneath its notice. It was like asking a man to step on a bug on the way to a feast he¡¯d prepared for him. Yes, that was all it had taken to make Cas utterly invincible. Even in the waking world. The artifact removed his need for sleep and protected his mind, but for others, simply viewing such a terror was enough to shatter the will, stifle the breath and still the heart. The thieves from the night before had learned that first hand. One of the victims had been the fearsome Kashta the Talon, whose name gave even Azar pause. The other had been a wizard! Yet, for all their skill and magics, they could do nothing against Cas¡¯ demon! He chuckled. Mortal threats, indeed! How fearsome could any army be when it was starved of sleep and frightened every night into madness? What good were generals that died in the midst of night terrors? His mirth bubbled up until it could finally be contained no longer. ¡°Come!¡± he roared into the night, holding the sceptre high. ¡°The sun and moon rise on the House of Cas! Thieves! Kings! Emperors! Sharpen your blades and gird your loins, it will matter not! Come, challenge Cas! Only death awaits!¡± Unbeknownst to him, in the bowels of his sanctum, two had already answered his challenge. Bronze and Flame II ¡°There!¡± Wurhi pointed to a golden sconce mounted above a flight of stairs, wrought in the image of a leopard with eagle¡¯s wings. ¡°This is it. We go up here, then along the balcony of the inner courtyard, and then take a right. That will take us to the stairs of Cas¡¯ tower. We found it!¡± ¡°At last,¡± Kyembe heaved a great sigh. ¡°By the stars, this place is enormous. I have walked in imperial palaces smaller and constructed less fiendishly.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get excited,¡± Wurhi began to scuttle up the steps. ¡°Someone could find that body anytime now,¡± she waved him up. ¡°Hurry! Hurry!¡± ¡°Right,¡± he nodded, padding quickly after her. They¡¯d made it halfway up when they heard it. Bang! A door opened loudly somewhere below. ¡°Murder!¡± someone bellowed. ¡°There¡¯s been murder in the kitchen! Intruders! There are intruders among us!¡± ¡°See!? Shit! Shit!¡± Wurhi swore. ¡°We need to leave!¡± ¡°No! They will block the exits! We need to go up!¡± Kyembe drew his blade and started charging forward. ¡°As fast as you can!¡± Swearing again, she tore up after him as though the abyss itself chased her. The palace erupted into life. Doors banged. Shouts and challenges boomed through the walls in every direction. Bronze armour jangled as warriors ran through the halls. Wurhi fought against rising panic. They reached the top of the stairs and sprinted onto the balcony. ¡°There! Thieves!¡± a woman cried from the courtyard below. ¡°Shit! Shit!¡± Wurhi screamed. ¡°Wurhi, down!¡± Kyembe cried. They dived. Whooshwhooshwhooshwhoosh! Clatter! A wave of arrows cut the air where the two had stood, but struck only the stone wall behind them. They scattered to the floor with bent tips. ¡°By the stars, they react quickly!¡± Kyembe cursed, crawling to the balcony and peeking over. ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Wurhi cried. His free hand snapped into a fist. A sound thrummed the air, like a great breath being drawn. The ring upon his finger flared so brightly it stung the eye as he pointed it over the balcony. Vrooosh! A beam of hungry white hellfire. It burst forth with a blast of furnace-like heat so intense that the air rippled around it. With a sickening hiss and crackle like bone bursting, it drove into the chest of one of the half dozen archers below. He had no time to even scream. His bronze armour melted, then boiled. Yet, it could not pour onto his flesh, for there was no flesh left to pour onto. A column of white flame erupted, voraciously consuming him to bone and beyond in a blink, leaving only a cloud of white ash hovering above a puddle of bubbling bronze. Within the cloud, the spark of hellfire still burned. It was not yet sated. Seemingly filled with vile sapience, the beam drove into the next archer in the line, who¡¯d recoiled while crying out in pain, her skin scalded from the heat of her compatriot¡¯s death. She actually managed half a shriek before immolating to dust. Then it jumped to another victim. Then another. When its searing light finally winked out, four guards had been carbonized to dust. The two survivors collapsed, screaming in fear and agony. The residual heat had scalded their skin like boiled rabbits. The stench of ash and bubbling metal filled the air. Wurhi retched over the balcony. ¡°Agh!¡± Kyembe groaned. Burns ate their way up the forearm from the hand bearing his ring, steaming even as they scalded further into his flesh. ¡°Your hand!¡± she cried. ¡°Hellfire is gluttonous!¡± his voice strained in pain. ¡°It demands its price!¡± He let his sword clatter to the stone and pressed his other hand to his wounds. A wan, golden light enveloped his fingers, cooling the flesh and sloughing off the burnt tissue for fresh new skin. ¡°Though I can pay it for some time. Now find your feet, Miss Rat!¡± he picked up his sword and offered her his free hand. ¡°Before others come!¡± She snapped herself out of shock and grabbed his hand. As soon as she was up, they were running, but had to skid to a halt almost immediately. In the faint light, guardsmen poured from the passage at the end of the balcony while more charged in from the other side, trapping them. ¡°We have you now, thieves!¡± a familiar voice roared. Wurhi¡¯s heart stopped. Captain Azar stepped from between her warriors, gripping her two-handed spear. Her eyes held death as they glared from beneath her helmet. ¡°You!¡± she looked right at Wurhi. ¡°I remember you from the street this morning! So, you¡¯ve come with your filthy, grabby little hands! Good! Maybe if we put up enough pikes, you wretched thieves will actually learn a lesson!¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Wurhi dragged her dagger from her belt, but her hand trembled. A nasty smile took Azar¡¯s face. ¡°And you killed four of my warriors, wizard!¡± she jabbed her spear at Kyembe. ¡°Your magic is fearsome, but I¡¯ve dealt with your kind before! Get them!¡± she roared to her soldiers. ¡°Before he uses his magic again!¡± ¡°Shit! Shiiiiiiit!¡± Wurhi cried. With a mighty shout, the massed veterans charged from both sides. Kyembe calmly raised his ring. Vrooosh! That horrifying, leaping beam of hellfire swallowed four more victims. They turned to dust while their compatriots flinched back in pain and horror. ¡°Advance!¡± Azar shouted over the din. ¡°He cannot do it constantly! Reject the pain and fear or he will slaughter you! Do not give him time to recover!¡± With shocking discipline, they shrugged off their reluctance and lowered their spears. Kyembe grunted in surprise, his arm burning, but he had no time to heal it. ¡°If not by hellfire, then by steel. Come and die,¡± the Sengezian raised his narrow blade to meet the oncoming masses. Wurhi, meanwhile, ran the hell away. Diving onto the railing, she scurried on hands and feet until she reached a column. She swung her body to the outside and wrapped her arms and legs around it, shimmying up. Kring! Tching! Steel clashed upon bronze below. ¡°The little one¡¯s getting away!¡± Azar cried. ¡°Two of you get up the stairs to the next floor! Cut her off!¡± Wurhi climbed onto the balcony above and grimaced. Earlier she¡¯d worried about the Sengezian betraying her, but now, she was abandoning him to his death. It was shameful, but against two columns of armed and armoured warriors - three abreast and many more deep - all she could do was die. ¡°Sorry,¡± she muttered in half-apology, taking one final look over the balustrade to witness his final moments. Her eyes widened. Half a dozen warriors menaced the lone swordsman with spears from both flanks. Their weapons were far longer, and they had numbers and positioning in their favour. Meanwhile, he only had a narrow sword in one hand to defend himself, and no armour to protect him. They should have skewered him a dozen times by now. Yet, he bore not a single wound. His crimson eyes flashed in the dark while his lean frame moved like water around their thrusts. His sword deftly parried those few spear-tips that came close, and then he darted at their owners like a cobra, flourishing his blade with inhuman celerity. They flinched back, forced to cower behind their shields. Quickly, their attacks¡¯ well practiced timing fell apart. Battle cries turned into cries of dismay. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Azar demanded. ¡°Kill him!¡± For a single moment, their thrusts slowed as they processed their commander¡¯s words. It was then Kyembe struck. Snarling, he clapped his burnt hand around the hilt of his sword, then widened his grip. The gleaming blade thrust forward. The hilt lengthened. Wurhi gasped. His sword became a long, ivory hafted sword-staff, easily matching the reach of his foes¡¯ spears. Before they could process what had happened, he swept the blade, penetrating their front rank, slicing through the gaps of their helms. Shriiiiiing! Their faces were sheared in twain. Blood sprayed as three guards collapsed, whimpering like slaughtered oxen. Kyembe¡¯s white tunic was stained red from the mist. He quickly leapt at their stunned fellows in the rank behind them, sword-staff blurring, driving them back with a mass of rapid push-cuts. As they flinched, he cut through the gaps in their defences and armour. They fell by the rank. ¡°Stop giving him space!¡± Azar roared. ¡°Close on him!¡± Her warriors only drew back. The dead multiplied. None were quick to join them. ¡°You nameless bastard!¡± the guard captain hefted her spear and began to push forward. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you myself!¡± ¡°I am not nameless!¡± he roared back. ¡°It is Kyembe the Spirit Killer who cuts you all down! Slayer of demons and warriors! Flee, if you wish to live!¡± Azar stiffened, then threw her head back in laughter. ¡°And I thought this night would be boring! I missed Kashta the Talon, but I¡¯ll have you! I am Azar the Sting! Face me!¡± He gave her a feral smile and lowered his stance. Azar charged forth, the guards parting before her, and she made a tremendous thrust to his head. In mid-thrust, it dropped down to strike for his belly instead. He swept her blow aside with a slight knock from his blade and cut at her arms, but she blocked with the haft of her spear. For a moment the two paused, glaring at each other past their weapons. Then they went for each other in earnest. ¡°There she is!¡± a voice bellowed behind Wurhi, finally drawing her attention from the fight below. The little thief whirled to see two guards charging her from the western stairwell. ¡°Shit! Shit!¡± she cried, pulling herself away from the balustrade and scrambling to the east. A third warrior burst out from the eastern entrance, cutting off her escape. ¡°Don¡¯t let her climb again!¡± one of the men shouted from behind her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the little rat-face has nowhere to run now!¡± the woman at her front snarled, blocking the door and levelling her spear. Wurhi skidded to a halt in panic while the two men closed from behind. ¡°Shit! Shit!¡± Her dagger would be poor defence against three spears. Still, it was either do something or die. Shrieking, Wurhi barrelled toward the woman at her front, and away from her pursuers. The warrior lowered her spear further to skewer the thief like a charging pig. Wurhi threw her dagger at the guard¡¯s head. Her opponent slammed her eyes shut while easily knocking the knife away with her shield, sending it spinning out into the courtyard far below. ¡°Bad throw, little rat,¡± the woman sneered. Then she went blind. ¡°Mmph!¡± Said ¡®little rat¡¯ had thrown her cloak before she¡¯d even finished tossing the knife. The larger woman swore, trying to extricate herself from the cloth and stabbed forward blindly, but Wurhi easily skittered beneath her thrusts, snatching the warrior¡¯s short sword from its sheath as she went. She gripped it in one hand and braced her other against the pommel. Then punched it into the back of her opponent¡¯s thigh. ¡°Aaaaaarrrgh!¡± the warrior bellowed as Wurhi¡¯s hands washed red. The woman quickly lost her balance, and the little thief helped by slamming her shoulder into the toppling guard¡¯s lower back, sending her stumbling forward. The protruding short sword pulled free. ¡°Watch out you foo-¡± The guard crashed into her onrushing brethren, taking one to the floor in a heap. The other stumbled free, but Wurhi was already coming for him. She pulled out her water skin and, in one fluid motion, slashed it open and swept its contents into the man¡¯s face. He swore and sputtered, his vision obscured for a moment. It was enough. Wurhi charged past his spear, leapt airborne and slammed her full weight into his core. She was tiny, but with him already unbalanced, half blinded and with full armour changing his centre of gravity, he was sent stumbling to the side. He hit the balustrade and dropped his spear to try and grab onto something, but it was too late. He careened through the air, clawing at it desperately while screaming. Crunch! Until he hit the stones of the courtyard. The sounds of battle continued below. ¡°Agh! Don¡¯t just stand there, you idiots, help me!¡± Azar frantically cried. Wurhi felt a little surge of happiness. The Sengezian yet lived. Shruk! ¡°Aaaaaarrrgh!¡± she let out a high pitched, inhuman shriek as a spear dug into her side. Hot blood poured down her body, and she turned to find the other man extricating himself from the tangle with the bleeding, dying woman. ¡°You bastard!¡± Wurhi pelted the short sword at him. Only halfway up, with his shield pinned beneath his compatriot, he could not block nor dodge. The blade hit him hilt first, breaking his nose. As he reeled back, Wurhi wrenched up the spear dropped by his companion with a cry of agony and stabbed through his clasped hands, deep into his face. With a snarl, she twisted. The man gurgled, shuddered, then fell to the tiles. Shaking with pain, Wurhi touched her side and found it completely drenched. Her body felt cold. She¡¯d seen enough wounds over the years to know this would be fatal. Bronze and Flame III Wait. The Sengezian had healed her before, as well as himself. She had to get to him. Gasping, she pulled herself back to the balustrade and peered below, spear in hand. The fight had turned against him. Azar the Sting and five of her warriors menaced him. From the front, she and those flanking her pressured him, while those behind stabbed him whenever they could. The captain¡¯s incredible skill combined with that of her elite veterans threatened to slowly overwhelm Kyembe. His teeth were gritted in pain. Red grew on his tunic with each passing moment. His sword-staff whirled with the ferocity of a sandstorm, lacerating to the bone those who came too close, but fresh attackers immediately surged forward over their dying brethren. They left him no room to use any of his magic, and the space around him continued to shrink. He would fall soon. ¡°Hey!¡± Wurhi cried, hefting her spear. The guard closest to her looked up. Clang! He caught her thrust directly on the helmet, his head whipping back, and he stumbled into his captain. Azar shouted in surprise, trying to shove him away. But it was too late. With a roar, Kyembe rushed past the last man¡¯s outstretched spear and away from those at his back. Bang! He drove a powerful kick into the tangle of Azar and guard, sending them sprawling into the rank behind. Most of the line collapsed with a great clamour. A quick swipe sliced open the throat of the man beside him, then - now that he had space - he swept his sword-staff high, his face drawn up in utter focus. His ring flared once more. His arm hissed as burns crawled further up his flesh. The air thrummed and shimmered. But no beam burst forth. Hot white light rose up the haft of his weapon, outlining it like a star behind an eclipse. Until it met the blade. With a crackling roar and blast of heat, it erupted in a white blaze like a miniature sun. The cool night air suddenly burned like noontime in the desert. Kyembe bellowed as he swept his weapon through his recoiling foes. The hellfire-clad steel melted through bronze shields and armour, slicing open and incinerating the flesh beneath. Warriors¡¯ insides superheated and erupted in showers of white ash, boiling blood, and scorched meat. They fell in burning piles of mewling horror that had lost any semblance of having been human. The survivors drew back with terror in their eyes. Even the mighty Azar. ¡°He is a demon!¡± she cried fearfully. ¡°Retreat! Retreat! Fetch bows to shoot the fiend!¡± In a clatter of metal and scrambling limbs, the guards fled screaming into the stairwells. Their vanquisher leaned against his weapon, catching his breath as the flame sputtered and went out. ¡°Thank you,¡± he panted, his crimson eyes rising to meet Wurhi¡¯s. ¡°They had the better of me-By the stars!¡± he suddenly cried. Her blood poured freely from the wound in her side. Her vision wavered, and her spear was slipping from limp fingers. Kyembe¡¯s sword hilt immediately shrank to its former size as he sheathed it and leapt up, catching the lip of the balcony above and climbing over the balustrade to drop beside her. He clasped both hands to her wound and once again golden light enwrapped them. The pain began to fade, and there was a sickening wet sound as his magic forced her flesh to knit back together. In the span of heartbeats, the only sign she had been pierced at all was a slight tenderness in her side. ¡°Thank you. Thank you,¡± Wurhi sighed as her energy returned. ¡°You are most welcome,¡± Kyembe placed his glowing hand to his own wounds next. ¡°You saved my life first.¡± Despite the fear rampaging through her breast, she forced a quivering grin and clapped him on the shoulder. Her hands still shook. ¡°So, we saved each other¡¯s lives. Great. Maybe we¡¯ll live long enough to enjoy them too.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Her smile crumpled. ¡°Now let¡¯s get the hell away from this balcony before the archers come.¡± She picked up the fallen short sword and, for good measure, slit the throats of the two corpses at their feet. No one would rise and stab her in the back again. ¡°Now, let¡¯s hurry. I want that plunder. And I think I want to kill Cas.¡± ¡°My thoughts as well,¡± Kyembe said grimly. Wurhi and Kyembe thankfully met no resistance in the western stairs, and reached Cas¡¯ tower without trouble. It seemed deserted, with the only sound being a slight night wind drifting in through the great outer windows. Though the rush of the guards mustering below met their ears, things above were eerily silent as they climbed the spiralling steps. Then Kyembe held up his hand and scowled at the stairwell ahead. ¡°Hold here for a moment, I will be back.¡± ¡°Wait what?¡± He was already rapidly charging up the stone steps and rounded a corner, drawing his sword. Heartbeats later, she heard a muffled cry of surprise, followed by one of pain. Shouts of challenge. Metal clashing on metal. Sandals scuffling on stone. Then a great rolling crash. The body of a guardsman toppled down the stairs and into her view. The pale moonlight revealed his eyes rolled back and red pouring from a gash in his armpit. Then silence. Kyembe reappeared in the stairwell above. ¡°Four waited to ambush us,¡± he growled. ¡°But we have reached our destination.¡± She gave pause. His face had the rage of a thundercloud. ¡°Then why do you look so unhappy? ¡­what did you see?¡± she asked. His scowl deepened. ¡°Your Cas of Zabyalla is keeping a demon in his bedchamber.¡± She blanched. ¡°What?! You mean¡­now?! It¡¯s there now!?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he said with the grimness of an executioner. ¡°I have slain many of these things and weaved magics to find their foul presences. I felt it as surely as I feel the wind now.¡± All thoughts of plunder, lenders, slavery and revenge were blasted from her mind by pure animal terror. ¡°Then we must flee!¡± Kyembe shook his head. ¡°I do not suffer such foul things to exist.¡± ¡°That¡¯s mad!¡± she glanced back down the stairwell. ¡°I¡¯m not letting a demon eat my soul for an armful of coins! Come on!¡± she looked through the window. Above was a balcony and below lay a bathing pool and fountain. She pointed downward. ¡°There! It¡¯d be hard, but we could climb down, drop into the water and begone!¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°I thought you wanted to kill Cas.¡± ¡°Before I knew he had a damn demon waiting for us!¡± she screamed. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go!¡± He did not move. Kyembe the Spirit Killer stood above her in the darkened stairwell, as still as stone. His eyes, the same colour as the blood staining his tunic, burned with fervour as they studied her. A chill passed through her body and she quickly remembered her earlier fears. Would this be it? Now that he wouldn¡¯t get what he wanted; would he turn on her? Her partner of five years had betrayed her utterly not one night ago, why not he? The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she became very aware of just how trapped she was on the stairwell alone with him. She tried to edge her way to the window. ¡°If you do not want to go further,¡± he suddenly spoke. She tensed. She might have to jump. He looked out over the grounds below, peering toward their edge. ¡°Then I will escort you to the wall and help you over. After, I shall return and destroy the abomination upstairs.¡± She froze. ¡°¡­what?¡± ¡°We had an oath to work together for thievery, and perhaps killing a filth-souled wizard. It did not include dragging you into a demon¡¯s nest. If I did that-¡± his red eyes flashed. ¡°-then I would be the demon, and there are already enough of those in this world.¡± Of all the things she¡¯d expected him to say, that was the last. ¡°What madness are you talking about? You should leave!¡± she said quickly. ¡°Live another day!¡± The Sengezian shook his head, and the smile he gave seemed lonely. ¡°If I succeed, I will join you later. We can hoist wine and laugh about this, and then you can fall asleep and not have that foul thing plaguing your dreams,¡± he stepped to the window. ¡°Come, let us move quickly and see you off before the guards get organized.¡± Wurhi outright gaped. She¡¯d been wrong. Utterly wrong. He was no traitor. He was a fool. The biggest fool she¡¯d ever met. No doubt. How had he lived this long? Sure, she¡¯d watched him obliterate twenty-five of Cas¡¯ elite guards and explode a crocodile, but someone should have knifed a man this naive in his sleep by now. Did wizards need to sleep? Did dark elves? Was that how he¡¯d stayed alive? It was ridiculous. He¡¯d known her for less than a day and he was about to go deliver her to safety then come back and fight a demon by himself? Would Kashta have done that? Would she have? Of course not, they were sane. Then again¡­ Her mind started to look at things with a different perspective. Perhaps it was not so much madness as it was cool assessment. He¡¯d said something about killing a demon in Nubtuka, hadn¡¯t he? And he just said he¡¯d slain these things before. What if he knew well that he could kill the thing upstairs? Her heart jumped. By leaving, she¡¯d give up all the spoils for nothing! Then again, knowing this fool, he¡¯d probably happily find her and bring her share afterward. No, even he wasn¡¯t so stupi- ¡°Oh, and tell me where I can find you tomorrow,¡± he looked at her seriously. ¡°If I am victorious, I will bring your share. You saved my life, and do not deserve to leave empty-handed.¡± That did it. In spite of her dread, a snicker escaped her lips. Then a chuckle. Finally, high pitched, roaring laughter exploded from her lungs as she doubled over on the stairs. Kyembe¡¯s startled expression drove her further into hysterics, and soon it was all she could do to stand. ¡°What is this?¡± he finally demanded. She eventually managed to regain control of herself. ¡°Nothing. Nothing at all. Come on, let¡¯s go rob this merchant.¡± He blinked. ¡°Truly? You¡¯re coming?¡± ¡°Even I¡¯ll feel guilty if I leave you here by yourself after you say something like that. It¡¯d be like abandoning a puppy. A terrifying, terrifying puppy. Besides, you say you can kill it?¡± Kyembe nodded. ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°I can kill it,¡± he said firmly. Wurhi bounded up the stairs past him. ¡°Then there¡¯s nothing to worry about! Come on, let¡¯s go get rich.¡± She wished she actually felt as confident as her words sounded. Maybe foolishness was contagious. The Dreaming Sceptre I ¡°Well,¡± Wurhi mused, crouched before the lock of Cas¡¯ great double doors. ¡°This is interesting.¡± ¡°What is?¡± Kyembe stood guard in the dark, his weapon at sword-staff length to sweep any foes ascending the stairs. Despite the continued sound of activity below, the two thieves remained unmolested. For now. ¡°This is a masterpiece,¡± her green eyes twinkled as she caressed the lock¡¯s metallic surface. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen its like; the trove guardians outdid themselves with this pretty, pretty shiny,¡± she chuckled quietly. ¡°They¡¯re beautiful. Locks. A wooden bar on a door¡¯s enough for most, but these have their own magic. The simple ones¡¯ve got more moving parts than a whole chariot and their crafters protect their secrets like¡­like¡­¡± ¡°Like the Cult of Steel guards the secret of steel?¡± ¡°Yes, just like that,¡± she peered at it hungrily. ¡°And this is one of the best, no doubt. No doubt.¡± Kyembe gave her a strange look. ¡°Should I burn it?¡± ¡°No! No!¡± Wurhi whispered harshly, drawing a ring of strange bronze tools from her belt. Each was long, narrow, and sported differing numbers of thin protrusions. They¡¯d been polished to perfect sheen, and jingled as she carefully flipped through them. ¡°Keep your hellfire to yourself, you maniac! Kyembe the Spirit Killer battles demons, but Wurhi the Rat battles these,¡± she selected a tool with many points and inserted it into the keyhole. ¡°With proper weapons.¡± Behind her, her companion hmphed in offence. Clink. Clink. She twisted the instrument within the fiendish machinery, her tongue pressed between her lips and her eyes narrowed in concentration. ¡°Besides, if you blast a giant, flaming hole in the doors then we can¡¯t close them if the guards get their nerve back,¡± she muttered. ¡°Which they probably won¡¯t. You slew, what, a quarter of a hundred down there?¡± ¡°About that, I think,¡± Kyembe mused. He sounded as though he were simply discussing the price of wheat. ¡°I was not counting so much.¡± ¡°Shiiiit,¡± she snorted. ¡°I¡¯ll be surprised if they ever sleep again. I¡¯ll be surprised if I ever sleep again!¡± ¡°That is why we are going to destroy this demon. So all in Zabyalla finally can!¡± She snorted. ¡°Not what I meant-Aaaaah, come on, you stubborn bastard!¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°No, no, I was talking to the lock,¡± she carefully withdrew the tool and put her eye to the keyhole. ¡°You know, I think I¡¯m overcomplicating this,¡± she muttered. ¡°They¡¯d think that I¡¯d think that I¡¯d need the most fancy lock-pick for the most fancy lock, but the prongs¡¯re all messing with each other, no doubt,¡± she flipped through the ring again, this time selecting one with only two points. ¡°Let¡¯s try you next.¡± She inserted the tool and gave it a couple of wiggles. Clink. Clink. Clunk! ¡°Hah! That¡¯s what you did! Clever bastards, but not clever enough!¡± ¡°What? What did they do?¡± Kyembe leaned over curiously. Wurhi waved him away while she worked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry! Don¡¯t worry! You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°I am no fool,¡± the half dark-elf huffed. She turned and looked at him steadily. ¡°Trust me. You stick with your horrifying magic and your steel and I¡¯ll stick to this business.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve picked locks before.¡± She smirked. ¡°Not like this you haven¡¯t.¡± Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! Click! ¡°Haha, it¡¯s open!¡± she cried in triumph, her fists shooting into the air. ¡°Keep trying, you rust licking fools! You¡¯ll never forge one I can¡¯t break!¡± ¡°Good job,¡± Kyembe congratulated her as she stretched, humming to herself and putting her ring of tools away with an affectionate pat. He stepped up beside her, staring at the doors with a grim look. ¡°Wurhi, when we pass through those doors, I will need you to listen to everything I say. Everything,¡± he emphasized. ¡°I do not know what sort of fiend lies ahead, but demons wield powers as varied and vile as the endless vermin of the dirt. If you want to live, follow my directions.¡± Her triumph immediately withered in her breast. Right, the demon. She was about to walk into a confrontation between a hellfire wielding maniac and an actual demon. She eyed the doors like a pig being dragged to the slaughterhouse. Except, this was worse. Pigs didn¡¯t have their souls swallowed at the slaughterhouse. No, no. Don¡¯t think like that. Her companion would triumph, and all she would have to do is count the coin when it was over. That and run a dagger through Cas¡¯ face a few times. Maybe more than a few.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Wurhi?¡± Kyembe prompted. ¡°Listen to the mighty demon slayer to stay alive. Got it, got it.¡± He regarded her with those red eyes for a few moments. ¡°Right,¡± he turned, taking a deep, steadying breath and setting his jaw. ¡°Are you ready?¡± She swallowed. ¡°No, but let¡¯s get this done before I get my sanity back and jump from a window.¡± Bang! He cracked the butt of his sword-staff on the tiles. ¡°Very well, then. Here we go.¡± He pushed the doors open. The two of them rushed into the room, and Wurhi slammed the door shut behind them, quickly locking it. Click. She tried not to dwell on how final that sounded. Little light greeted them save that of a scattered pair of oil lamps on ceiling chains and a thin line of moonlight that slipped between the heavy curtains over the balcony. The line of pale illumination marked the stone foot of some enormous bed. Kyembe ignored it. His eyes were firmly fixed on the far end of the chamber. On some unseen thing. ¡°You are Cas of Zabyalla,¡± he said to the dark. There was a startled silence. Then rich, cruel laughter. ¡°So, two more arrive,¡± an urbane baritone mocked. ¡°You have found the sanctum of Cas, future Merchant King of Zabyalla.¡± ¡°Future corpse of Zabyalla!¡± Wurhi shouted, her voice cracking. She kept trying not to think about how absolutely terrified she was. Hiss. A flickering flame came to life on the far side of the room. The merchant prince sprawled casually on his throne, his eyes shining with mirth. Wurhi¡¯s gaze immediately dropped to the gleaming treasure strewn about his dais. It seemed to extend endlessly into the blackness. Suddenly, her fear seemed very distant indeed. ¡°I see I am beset by fools this time,¡± he looked Wurhi up and down. ¡°And children, judging from the size of you. You must be Wurhi the Rat.¡± The little thief gasped. ¡°How do you know that?!¡± she demanded. ¡°A bird sang it in my ear,¡± Cas grinned. ¡°Or rather, a bird¡¯s talon, I suppose.¡± ¡°Kashta!¡± Wurhi snarled. ¡°That loincloth-pissing son of a maggot!¡± ¡°Oh dear, how colourful. I merely jest; he had no time to speak of anything before he met his end,¡± Cas laughed. ¡°I know who you are because you are a woman of reputation, little rat. I had wondered how long it would be before you came skittering into my halls,¡± his gaze turned to Kyembe next. ¡°And poor Kashta has scarcely grown cold yet I see you have already found a new partner,¡± he shook his head in mock disdain. ¡°Such fleeting loyalty among thieves.¡± The Sengezian did not respond to Cas¡¯ self-amusements, instead stalking toward the man like a prowling leopard. The merchant prince showed no alarm. Wurhi stuck close to her companion, eyeing their surroundings. It seemed too dark. ¡°This one doesn¡¯t speak much, does he?¡± Cas asked Wurhi gaily. ¡°Some last words would have been appropriate. Oh well,¡± he shrugged, then raised his sceptre of platinum. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have remembered them, anyway.¡± Violet sapphires seemed to glint in malice. The black deepened. Kyembe stiffened in realization. ¡°Wurhi!¡± he shouted. ¡°Shut your eyes and get away! Now!¡± An immensity breathed in the dark. Wurhi made to whirl in alarm. ¡°Shut your eyes or it¡¯ll kill you!¡± Kyembe roared. His ring already flared with white light. That got her attention. She slammed her eyes shut and stumbled from Kyembe¡¯s side. Vhrooosh! Flame roared behind her. A wave of impossible heat buffeted her back. ¡°Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!¡± an agonized bellow exploded so loudly that her ears rung. A chill resounded in her core. No mortal nor beast could ever have uttered such a foul sound. The voice was so loathsome that she nearly retched from it crawling through her ears. The scent of burning flesh stung her nose. ¡°You¡­you hurt it!¡± she heard Cas roar in fury over the ringing in her ears. ¡°You filthy jackal! How dare you come into the lion¡¯s den and-¡± Filling with blind rage and primal terror, Wurhi screamed and threw her dagger. Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Chnk! ¡°Aaaaaargh!¡± Cas screamed in pain. ¡°My arm! You foul, wretched little vermin! Enough of this¡­¡± His voice faded, as though it were sinking into water. Boom. Boom. Boom. Colossal footsteps shook the stones. Kyembe¡¯s sandals scuffled across them. The Sengezian roared something in a language so sharp it seemed to pierce the ear. A voice that was a thousand buzzing locusts cursed back in kind. Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Tremendous appendages swept through the air and Wurhi smelled drops of foul wetness scattering across the tiles. Schuuch! Vrooosh! Steel slid into flesh. Kyembe¡¯s flame roared. Another inhuman scream, this even louder than the last. Wurhi grabbed her ears in pain. The fight continued in rushes of limbs, sweeps of blades, the crackle of hellfire and alien curses that scalded the soul. The dampness surrounding her deepened¡­ Wait, what? She cracked her eyes open. Smoke. No, mist. Mist swirled about the room. ¡°Kyembe!¡± she cried in alarm. Forgetting herself, she turned to the battle. She wished she had not. Their forms were mere shadows in the dark and fog, but she could see Kyembe the Spirit Killer with his sword-staff outlined in light and blazing in hellfire. Before him loomed an elephantine sized abomination. It moved with sickening agility and held a shape that mocked the natural. Gargantuan, boneless limbs grew one moment and withered the next, all terminating in the claw, fang, horn and pincer of every beast and vermin in the world. Diseased spittle dripped from a hundred fanged maws. Its shining eyes were at once feline, serpentine, raptorial and insectile, and all blazed with an unfathomable, primordial intellect. Thankfully, they were not fixed upon her. If they were, Wurhi knew she would be dead for simply looking upon it. Voom! Hssssss! Kyembe¡¯s fire popped and flared, illuminating it slightly. Only slightly. Wurhi shrieked in a way more animal than human. Images writhed within its form. Images from her nightmares. Gangs of cutpurses multiplied into vast hordes. Rabid, feral cats swollen to mammoth size. A colossal maw yawning in endless hunger. And faces she recognized. The faces of everyone who had tried to kill her ever since she was a child. ¡°No! No! You¡¯re dead!¡± her despairing wail sought to deny the phantoms. ¡°You¡¯re all dead! Dead! Dead! Dead!¡± ¡°Wurhi!¡± Kyembe¡¯s strained voice cut through her cries. ¡°Wurhi! It is a Lord of Nightmares! It seeks to stop our hearts with our worst fears!¡± The white fire streaked through the mist, cutting scale, fur and meat, and sending a gout of hellfire bursting from the wound. The demon screamed and Wurhi cringed away. ¡°They are like the trick of the dog barks! They are illusion, Wurhi! It draws us into its realm of dreams! Things there are only real if you let your mind surrender to them!¡± he screamed. With dawning horror, she realized that despite his words, he sounded terrified. The mist thickened. A sickly violet light began to grow in all directions. A thousand locusts droned in mocking laughter. ¡°You cannot stop the fear, but do not surrender to it!¡± he screamed. The burning blade flashed again. His shadow dove away from a dozen grasping claws and pincers. ¡°If you do, you will die!¡± he cried. ¡°If you do! You will-¡± Sense fled the world in that moment. Wurhi screamed. Stone wrenched from stone. Walls and ceiling tore away. Alien stars danced before violet skies in all directions. Wurhi screamed. The Dreaming Sceptre II Great pillars swirled above and below without regard for up or down. Her stomach bottomed out. Twisted versions of Cas¡¯ tower spiralled around her. The city of Zabyalla arched over her in the distance, but with every building writhing like maggots in flesh. The mist undulated with prismatic lights, and within, stalked endless terrors with shining eyes. She felt miniscule. On a wide, distant platform, Kyembe the Spirit Killer and the lord of nightmares continued their battle. Mists filled with spittle and sparks. The immense horror struck with the speed of a lioness, but the Sengezian weaved through its limbs with skill and agility that seemed supernatural. His weapon sliced and burnt its shadowy flesh in great, drawing cuts. White flame consumed its body, growing with every blow it received. Yet, while it flinched, it did not retreat. Severed limbs regrew. Burning flesh sloughed off. Wounds closed. It would not bleed. Amused malice built around it. It would not die. Then Cas¡¯ mocking laugh echoed through the nightmare world from all places at once. ¡°Unwashed wretches!¡± he roared. ¡°You cannot kill my wonderful servant! You cannot slay terror itself! Cut it! Burn it! Do as you wish, but vermin can only perish before the lion¡¯s claws!¡± His taunt brought Wurhi¡¯s mind to focus. Cas was right. Her companion was tiring while the demon pursued him with seemingly endless vitality. He had cut and burnt it enough to kill an elephant a hundred times over, yet it continued unabated. In return, all it would need would be a single lucky stroke to clip, gore or claw the slender warrior in twain. Yet, what could she do? She was no mighty warrior or wizard! She had no magics or great cunning or- Wait. Wizard? ¡­Aparis! Aparis had thought Cas had found some magic! They were in the great market two mornings ago. Cas had passed through with his procession, and the princeling¡¯s eyes were fixed on him. No, it was not on him. It was on something else¡­ The sceptre! Cas had raised it before the demon attacked! That was the key! The very thing that would undo the lock on this hellish trap! She had to get it! But where lay the merchant prince? His voice had come from everywhere. Wurhi¡¯s eyes could only see this fog. Her skin felt its damp touch. Her nose¡­ She froze in realization. Her nose smelled none of it. No musk from the great cats. No dewy scent of mist. Nothing. The demon was here to kill humans! Its illusions must be focused only on their favoured senses, like how Kyembe¡¯s illusion of the dog mimicked only its sound! Humans relied on their eyes and ears; scent was the realm of the animal. So, to find Cas, she needed her nose as sharp as an animal¡¯s! Wurhi the Rat clung to the rock tightly. A haze came over her mind. Agony ripped through her body. Her bones felt like they were breaking apart and coming back together. A shriek of rising pitch burst from her lips. Far away, though distance here had little meaning, Merchant Prince Cas watched the fight through a tunnel in the scintillating mist. Although that little wretch¡¯s dagger had sliced his arm, the cut had been shallow and he¡¯d wrapped a silk cloth around it to stem the bleeding. He took up a golden pitcher of wine, poured himself a rhyton, then toasted toward the battle.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The dark-skinned warrior was being cornered by his lovely demon. It would not be long now. ¡°To you, my nameless, valorous young lion,¡± he took a long sip of the smooth wine, savouring its flavour. ¡°May your flesh fill my demon¡¯s belly!¡± Nightmares swam through the surrounding mist or hopped between the floating stones. They held no danger to him, though they were amusing in their own way. Some gave him glances as they passed, or even approached and studied him for a time until they recognized his sceptre¡¯s light and backed away in deference. How droll. In particular, one was comedically leaping this way across the rocks, much like how a flat stone skipped across the River of Scales. It wasn¡¯t very fearsome: a strange little imp with what looked like a rat¡¯s tail swishing behind it. Oh well, he supposed everyone had their own fears. Some mind must have conjured it. Cas smiled as it approached. ¡°Hail to you!¡± he said mockingly as he took another sip of wine. The merchant prince held up the dreaming sceptre so that it would know its master. A giant rat¡¯s jaws burst out from the mist. Crnch! Fangs dug into his forearm. Flesh tore. Bone snapped. ¡°Aaaaaaargh!¡± he wailed. In his agony, he dropped his sceptre. The creature deftly snatched it from the air and pulled away from Cas, clutching it with small, clawed hands. It was a hideous cross of human and enormous rat, with long, pointed snout and shaggy black fur. It twitched, the glowing violet sapphires reflected in its beady, animal eyes. ¡°No, brute!¡± Cas shrieked desperately, clutching his arm. ¡°Give that back!¡± The creature hunched, chittering at him in a high pitch. It seemed about to flee into the mist but then shuddered, violently shaking its head. It squeezed its eyes shut. When they opened, human intelligence lurked in them. With another chitter, the rat took up the dreaming sceptre in both clawed hands and raised it high over its head. Cas¡¯ eyes went wide. ¡°No! Don¡¯t!¡± he shrieked. Bang! The sceptre¡¯s head smashed into the stones. Boom! Crnck! A tremendous impact and the roar of jewels cracking rippled through the nightmare world. Shrieking followed. The demon reeled back. Its form boiled and wavered like a mirage. Black, foul ichor poured from its many wounds and new flesh no longer replaced what had burnt. Kyembe the Spirit Killer did not let such an opportunity pass. With a roar, he charged, the flaming sword-staff thrusting forward. Shrluuuck! The blade drove into its core, and hellfire exploded from every wound. Simultaneously, the rat-thing raised the sceptre once more. Bang! The sapphires shattered, their violet light forever flickering out. With a scream that mirrored the demon¡¯s, the sceptre shuddered in the creature¡¯s claws like a stricken beast. Then it crumbled away like sand. The hellfire redoubled in strength in the demon¡¯s flesh, and its entire body lit up like an oil-soaked carpet. For one brilliant moment, its hideous form shone like a burning star in the dark and its shrieks could not be heard over the roar of flame that ate it. For years, it had been the greatest predator in Zabyalla. Now, its flesh fed another. With the sound of a collapsing building, the lord of nightmares crashed to the stones as no more than a cremating corpse. A shockwave burst from its body, driving its foul touch from the room and every dreaming soul in Zabyalla. For a brief instant, thousands of voices seemed to cry out in tearful elation. Then, they too faded into the night. Yet for one, the nightmare was only beginning. Cas of Zabyalla screamed as moonlight filled his chamber. Before him crouched a monster chittering at him and glaring with beady orbs. Approaching him was a lean, dark man with pointed ears and ferocious eyes as crimson as blood, bearing a sword-staff that burned with white fire. Upon the blade sizzled scant remains of Cas¡¯ only protector. ¡°N-no wait! Please!¡± the merchant prince wept in panic, clutching his agonized forearm. ¡°Don¡¯t kill me! I¡¯ll give you whatever you want! Gold! Platinum! Jewels! Slaves!¡± with his unwounded hand he scooped up a handful of coins and gems. ¡°Please! I¡¯ll give you anything!¡± Bone popped and flesh shuddered. He watched in horror as the chittering beast-thing writhed and contorted in agony. The skeleton broke, shortened and reset. Flesh rippled as fur sank beneath the skin, and claws shortened even as the snout and tail did. The animal cries became more and more human until they were the pained screams of a woman. Finally, it ended. Rather than a rat-thing standing before him, it was the thief, Wurhi the Rat. ¡°Y-y-M-monster!¡± Cas cried, scrambling back into his throne. ¡°Maybe,¡± Wurhi admitted, her green eyes piercing his. She looked down and picked up an ornamental golden dagger, turning it over in her hands. ¡°But much less than you, Cas of Zabyalla.¡± ¡°And we have already slain one monster tonight,¡± Kyembe¡¯s white flame reflected on his crimson eyes. ¡°Let us complete the set.¡± He reached forward and grabbed Cas¡¯ long curly hair in an iron grip. ¡°No! You can¡¯t! Guards! Guards! Azar!¡± Cas wept, trying to pull away. Shnk. Wurhi sank the golden dagger into his stomach. ¡°A-aaaaaargh!¡± he screamed. She ripped it down and out. In a spray of red, Cas was eviscerated before his own horrified eyes. ¡°Aaaargh! Aaaargh!¡± he tried desperately to hold his guts in, retching blood even as Kyembe pulled him from his seat and dragged him toward the balcony. ¡°No!¡± he wailed, realizing what the Sengezian had in mind. ¡°You can¡¯t do this! You can¡¯t!¡± He was still weakly pleading when Kyembe flung him from the balcony. The man who would be merchant king shrieked and desperately clawed at nothing. The world spun. The night air howled around him. His dimming eyes glimpsed a flash of water. Then he slammed into his own bathing pool. Crunch! The water¡¯s surface broke his body. Crunch! The stone beneath broke it again. There would be no more heads for Cas¡¯ pikes. Far above, Wurhi and Kyembe gazed down at the body floating amongst spreading red in the water. ¡°So ends Cas of Zabyalla,¡± Kyembe pronounced. ¡°May maggots feast on his soul,¡± Wurhi spit after him, watching it land with a little plop on his body. The Sengezian¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Good aim,¡± he mused, clapping her on the shoulder. ¡°Now let us take our plunder before the guards break down the door!¡± Epilogue Kyembe the Spirit Killer basked in the sun, leaning on the rail as the ship pulled away from Zabyalla¡¯s harbour. A warm wind blew north, with gulls crying and soaring on its current, and the docks bustled with activity. He stretched, letting out a great yawn. There had been no opportunity for sleep the night before, and the fight with the demon had left his whole body sore from his bones to his skin. On the ship, as nearly always, his inhuman eyes and ears had ensured he was avoided. Sailors laden with cargo went quiet and quickened their steps as they passed. Passengers gave him a wide berth. It looked like it would be a rather lonely voyage to the lands north of the Sea of Gods. He would mind it not. His pack, clutched protectively in his arms, lay heavy with coin and jewels. His tattered cloak was long gone and a fine over-robe fell open around him. It was a rich, deep, blue-black with points of white upon it like stars on a night sky, and was fastened about his neck with a golden clasp wrought into a graceful heron. It was the right length, but a little wide. After all, it had been tailored for a man of similar height, but much broader frame. Of course, that man would have no need for it anymore. By the time the sun had risen, the other merchant princes of Zabyalla had stormed Cas¡¯ grounds with their hired armies at their backs. They had no full knowledge of what happened the night before, but they well knew that the veil Cas cast over Zabyalla had been sheared. They wanted recompense in blood and lucre. Unfortunately, there had been very little of the former to divide up. Cas¡¯ guard and servants had taken one look at the state of their master and quickly understood the situation. By the time the merchants arrived, they had looted enough to keep them going for a time then scattered to the winds. The merchant princes and princesses split the bloated corpse of Cas¡¯ empire amongst themselves and then returned to what they did best. Trade. As for the corpse of the man who would be merchant king, Wurhi had said they were already nailing it to a pole in the great market for the sport of all. Of his servants, their fate would be their own. Some would no doubt find position with Cas¡¯ former rivals. Some would be swallowed by the bowels of the city. Some would flee Zabyalla altogether. He was sure he¡¯d seen Azar the Sting on this very ship, though the woman had paled and fled too quickly below deck for him to be sure. Even if it was, it mattered little to him. This was a good day. Buneb¡¯s followers were growing further distant, he had enough wealth to live extravagantly for months, a villain lay dead, and another of the seemingly endless demons of the world had vanished. His brow furrowed. Only a little rat caused him lingering worry. They had finished settling her debt with the lenders of The Maw - he had gone along to help ensure they tried no treachery - and though her share was vastly depleted, she had enough to keep herself comfortably for some time. When they parted, she¡¯d given him fond farewell then gone off to find a cup of wine. He sighed, idly wondering how she was. No doubt she could care for herself, but she¡¯d saved his life twice and she had been good company.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Ah well,¡± he lamented. ¡°Such is the way of things.¡± ¡°The way of what?¡± a voice said from very close. ¡°By the stars!¡± he jumped, whirling around. ¡°Wurhi!?¡± ¡°Hello,¡± the tiny Zabyallan gave him a little wave and a smile that displayed her overbite. ¡°Why do you look so sad for? You¡¯re the one that actually got to keep most of his plunder.¡± ¡°What¡­what are you doing here?!¡± he demanded. She made a face, and spit into the water. ¡°Someone tried to knife me a hundred paces from where we parted.¡± Kyembe gasped. ¡°No!¡± ¡°Then it happened three more times,¡± she scowled, and spat again. ¡°No! Why?!¡± She sighed, leaning against the rail. ¡°Folk at The Maw saw exactly how much I had left after I settled my and Kashta¡¯s debts and thought it¡¯d look better in their pouches. So, I got to thinking,¡± Wurhi¡¯s eyes drifted down to the water. ¡°There¡¯s going to be a lot of guards from Cas¡¯ place that¡¯re going to be on the street and probably want my guts for a belt and fur for a cape. The Merchant Princes are going to want me dead because I actually managed to rob Cas of Zabyalla and they don¡¯t want me in their coffers next. And I¡¯m as small as well¡­¡± she made a sour face. ¡°A rat. Everyone¡¯s going to take me for an easy mark, especially without Kashta around anymore.¡± She laughed bitterly. ¡°I¡¯d never be able to rest! Wouldn¡¯t that be foolish? Everyone else in the city gets to sleep soundly again except for the woman who actually pulled Cas¡¯ damn guts out. Nope. I say that¡¯s camel shit, so I decided that maybe the world can do with some seeing. I was half ready to leave before you came along anyway.¡± ¡°Wurhi, I-¡± ¡°Hold on, before you say anything,¡± she turned and fixed him with a piercing look. ¡°You knew, didn¡¯t you? That I was a shapeshifter.¡± Kyembe scratched his head. ¡°I suspected something, yes.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°I felt you had a little magic about you,¡± he smiled. ¡°In many ways.¡± Wurhi scoffed. ¡°That tongue of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.¡± His smiled widened. ¡°It already has, many times.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Sorry to disappoint you, but I like women. Though you¡¯re alright, I guess.¡± He recoiled in mock injury. ¡°Truly a loss for me! Though your compliment is the sweet balm that dulls the pain.¡± ¡°Oh gods, step back for a moment, that line¡¯s gonna have me retching over the rail.¡± Now Kyembe laughed and shook his head, but soon grew serious again. ¡°In truth, I suspected it when you found the kitchen with only your nose. I lived in the wilderness for some years and have met many, many people. Anyone can smell cooking food, but finding an empty hearth and cold kitchen by scent alone? That could only be an animal¡¯s deed.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± she laughed ruefully. ¡°That makes sense. You never asked about it. Even after we left Cas¡¯ estate.¡± He shrugged. ¡°If you wanted to speak of it, you would have. You do not know me well, so it is not my business to ask.¡± ¡°Hehe, well, thanks for that,¡± she looked at the harbour shrinking into the distance. ¡°My mother said I got it from my father, and devils only know where he got it from,¡± her eyes grew distant. ¡°I hate doing it, you know. You don¡¯t know agony until your body is ripping itself apart and rebuilding in the time it takes to put on a shirt. I can¡¯t imagine anything being like it. Worse than that, I can¡¯t talk and I start thinking like a damn animal. Last night, all I wanted to do was scamper off to find some warm crack in the earth to burrow and hide in. Nearly couldn¡¯t shake it off.¡± ¡°Well, I am happy you did it. It saved us.¡± ¡°Yeah, well you did some work too,¡± she laughed, then she looked at him sidelong. ¡°So, Kyembe of Sengezi, how¡¯s about having a little street rat travel with you until you get tired of her or she finds some other city to burrow into?¡± ¡°I would be delighted,¡± Kyembe smiled widely and laughed a deep, rich laugh that echoed over the waters. He made a fist, kissed it and extended it toward her. Wurhi smiled back, kissed her own tiny fist and reached out with it. The two pressed their knuckles to each other. Their oath was extended. Where it would lead, they knew not. Behind their ship, the busy city of Zabyalla receded into the distance. That night, it would sleep very well indeed. Afterward Announcement: The Sequel is Live Hello everyone! Thank you for continuing to follow The Dreaming Sceptre all this time. I want to thank you sincerely for your patience, and I am am thrilled to announce that The Ogre''s Pendant has started publishing. It''ll be a bit of a beefier story than the first, and will update every Saturday (now that the initial release is done) until it is finished. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. You can find the link in the author note above. I hope that you enjoy it, and I''ll see you all over there. - Traitorman