Crown (The Manhunters Book 3) Read online

  Dozens of men, women, and demons were being sold, auctions and haggling running wild. Roth knew he could do nothing to free any of these people now. He gauged their placement in the bazaar and spoke to his brother.

  “Tate, it will break down to a fight. We have to try to–” Roth turned but did not see Tate. He looked all around, shoving creatures out of the way and cursing. The sound of the word on the air only made Roth’s fear rise, and he shouted his brother’s name over the sound of the crowd.

  Burke was suddenly in front of Roth and grabbed Roth’s arm. “How long has he been gone?”

  “I don’t know. He was right here and now– What if he has been killed? Or taken? He is a cast–”

  Burke’s hand clamped over Roth’s mouth in a flash. Roth stared at Burke’s calm eyes. “Don’t finish that thought. We will find him. Do not cast. And do not leave my side.”

  Roth suddenly felt his age. Since the age of nine, he had been treated like an adult by the Collective. Now he felt young and helpless. Arcturus turned in every direction, his eyes roving, his face calm. Why was everyone so damn calm?

  Byron appeared out of nowhere and waved them all forward. “Found him,” the man said. Roth stumbled forward frantic.

  He found Tate standing, cradling his hip and smiling.

  “Where were you?” Roth asked.

  “I got separated. I’m fine,” Tate said.

  “Are you hurt?” Roth asked, reaching for Tate’s hip.

  His brother laughed and playfully slapped his hand away. “I’m fine, but I overheard a few demons talking about our group. We are going to have to fight our way out of here.”

  “That is a fight we can make, but we had better do what we came to do now,” Arcturus said.

  Byron nodded and beckoned them forward. “I found it.”

  Within a breath, they were standing before a filthy stall where a man stood eating. He had a very delicate knife and was slowly dicing his food into tiny manageable bites. He possessed a fork and, with very deliberate cutting, freed a piece of bloody meat from a large slab and placed it on the tip of his tongue. The meat quivered and Roth heard a whimper. He looked again at the slab. It was a flayed back slowly being devoured, like the back of a human man or woman. Roth saw then that a man was bent over at the waist in front of the demon, very much alive and sobbing.

  The spells Roth would use to destroy this foul demon sat on the tip of his grasp. He suddenly felt the weight of the sword on his back and glared at the monster with a rage bordering on bloodlust.

  “You made it,” the demon said with a mouth in the middle of his neck that Roth had not seen before. As he spoke, he spat chunks of bloody meat. The demon wiped blood from this second mouth and both mouths smiled. “I have been waiting for you.” The trader kicked the one before him. The poor soul stood halfway straight and hustled away sobbing.

  “Here you have it. The sword you seek. Harloc the Thorn Brother. The brother to that beast right there.” The demon pointed at Burke and his fingers flexed in that direction. “Is it Betamus, twin brother to Fannalis? That is a truly lovely weapon,” the trader said, licking from both sets of lips the red froth that was developing.

  “You should see it coated in blood,” Arcturus said. “Not as appealing as you would expect.”

  “Depends on whose blood it is, I would imagine,” the demon said.

  “The sword, where is it?” Roth asked.

  “Right here, young magic user,” the trader said way too loud.

  He set a weapon on the table covered in a feces-smeared leather wrap. Roth unfolded the leather and touched the handle of the sword with a single finger. It immediately sprouted thorns.

  “As expected, is it not?” the beast said.

  Roth laid a hand on the blade and let himself be drawn into the weapon.

  Suddenly he was in a dark room, humid and filled with the stench of feces and body odor. The ground was uneven. Roth hissed into the darkness. “Harloc? Are you in here? Can you hear me?”

  A wretched man crawled out of the corner. His body was riddled with thorns that protruded from the soft spots. He was naked and smeared with filth, pale and gaunt with white hair, wild and unkempt. The man looked up with a shocked and stunned face and stared at Roth with hope and fear.

  “Who are you?” Harloc hissed with a dry and ragged voice.

  “My name is Roth Callden. I’m here to help. Please be patient. I will take you out of here.” Harloc crawled forward on hands and knees, his head bowed. He fell before Roth and grabbed his feet, petting them with love and affection. “Can you take me to my family?” the man’s eyes leaked foul smelling tears. Roth patted his head.

  “I mean to do that very thing.” He projected himself away to the sounds of Harloc screaming and pleading him to return.

  Roth reentered his body and looked at Tate. “This is it.”

  Byron pulled Roth’s collar and jerked Roth’s ear to his mouth where he could whisper. “I am off then.”

  Roth shook his head. “You are coming with us. I am taking you back to Pollax where you can live out your days in peace. No more Hell for you. Stay with us. Fight with us and I will get you home.”

  Byron closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek.

  “Go to the park in the center of town. There is a tree,” Byron said. “It will be carved with the name of a woman and the letters B.P.” Byron closed his eyes and whispered with husky voice. “Cut it down. Burn it. Every branch, every leaf.”

  “You have to come home. You have to leave this place,” Roth said. Tate leaned in close and patted Byron’s hand.

  “We understand. We know you can’t stay and help. You have to live here when we are gone,” Tate said. “Thank you.”

  “We don’t understand. Byron, don’t make me leave you here,” Roth said. He felt his tears coming and did not try to stop them. “You belong with your family.”

  Byron shook his head. “The tree. Don’t forget.”

  Arcturus extended his hand and shook Byron’s arm. “I’m not good with debt. Don’t like owing people things. But I owe you. If I can ever help, if you ever do decide to come home, find me in Neather. I’ll buy you a drink and mark you as brother.” Arcturus patted the man on the shoulder. “Thanks for helping my prince. It will not be forgotten.”

  Byron nodded. Burke hugged him and whispered in his ear.

  Byron turned to Roth and Tate. “When you get free of the bazaar and make it to the streets, make sure you are well away from every other demon before you open a portal. They will fight to get through if you are not careful.”

  Roth could only stare, wrapped in the horror of leaving Byron behind, but Tate nodded.

  Byron turned to the group and smiled his haunted smile. “There are big ones everywhere with enormous mouths. They are called Gulpers. They will swallow you whole and carry you away. Once they close their lips, their jaws lock in place and can’t be pried open. Their saliva is paralytic and you will never be seen again. Watch for them. Don’t get swallowed.”

  They all nodded.

  Byron turned to Tate. “If you are here too long, this place gets into you and seeps into your pores. You will not be able to leave without losing your mind.” Byron nodded. “Be careful.”

  With a spin into the crowd, he was gone.

  Roth turned to the demon vendor and nodded.

  “Let’s get started then,” the demon said with a smile. He opened his mouth and made a gagging sound that seemed like a call of some sort.

  The bazaar erupted around them. A large demon reached for Burke’s sword. Arcturus’s sword was a blur and the reaching hand fell to the ground. Roth heard Arcturus laugh before the world broke out into chaos.

  Paradise Destroyed

  “Rayph, where are you?!” Dran yelled across the fetish. Rayph’s stomach sank and he regretted taking his fetish off while he spent his time with Archialore.

  “I’m here. What has happened?”

  “Slaughter,” Smear said. “We n
eed you now. Get here as fast as you can.” Rayph focused on Smear and opened a portal. He stepped through and almost vomited. He longed to step back, to walk away from this reality and hide in the embrace of his wife. He held back his revulsion and fought to gain his calluses again. He closed the portal behind him and turned to Dran.

  “What am I looking at?” Rayph said. He was in a room, in a building. It had once been a room. Now it looked more like a butcher’s shop. Slabs of meat that had once been human lay over the ground, the furniture. Blood ruled every inch of this place. It dripped and dropped either in tiny tears or large splotches. He had been here before. Where was it?

  “This is a brothel. A place run by the Hood syndicate,” Dran said.

  “Tawny?” Rayph’s heart seized up on him and he looked to Smear.

  “Alive but barely. They took her to Cor-lyn-ber. Dissonance is with her.”

  “What did he take?” Rayph asked.

  “Legs, he took both of her legs. One at mid-thigh, one at the hip. It looks like Blade Silvertooth’s work,” Dran said.

  “Why would you guess that?”

  “Looks like bites that did it.”

  Smear looked at Rayph. “It’s time to find Trysliana. I have been quiet until now, but she is out there somewhere. You know they can find her. And Brody has a thing about hurting women. I want her brought in, Rayph. I want you to summon her.”

  “I can’t do that. She is deep in cover. She is vital to us, Smear, we can’t try to protect her,” Rayph said. He didn’t see the strike coming. It was faster than any hit Rayph could remember in his life. A flash quicker than lightning and damn near as devastating. Smear’s fist took Rayph in the cheek and Rayph felt the bones shatter. He stumbled back and Smear looked away. Rayph knew the look as instant regret. Rayph gritted his teeth, nearly screamed in pain. Dran turned to Smear and shook her head.

  “Get it together, boys,” she said. “Take it outside. I don’t want my men seeing you fighting.” She turned back to the man standing beside her and pointed to a body.

  “It’s dead, soldier, it’s not going to bite you,” she said. “She was a person but we can’t see to her now. Pick up what’s left of her and put it in that crate. We will carry them out of here and see to the dead when we get a chance. Until then, we have a mess to clean up. Shut up or throw up, but get the job done.” She patted the man on the back. He turned to the body of the woman at his feet with a green-tinted, sweaty face.

  Rayph turned to Smear, grabbed his friend by the shoulder and pushed him out of the room and into the alley, where days before Eloam had stuffed a bag over Rayph’s head.

  “Say what you want to say and get ready for work,” Rayph said.

  “I’m sorry, Rayph, I am. I lost my temper. You have no idea what she means to me,” Smear said.

  “Just got back from seeing Archialore. Do you want to rethink those words?”

  “What would you do if you thought she was in danger?” Smear said.

  “She is!” Rayph yelled. His words were coming out slurred and wet, and he spat blood with every consonant. “She is a warrior mage of the Gate. She is in constant danger. She has chosen to serve her people with her life and one day it will be her death. I live with that every day. You need to either resign from this job or get it through your head that Trysliana is a warrior spy who is going to be in danger for the rest of her life. I can’t do this anymore, and I won’t do this ever again. Get it together or quit, but if you hit me again I am going to kick you out of this group.”

  Smear nodded, his eyes on his feet. “I worry about her, boss.”

  “We all do,” Rayph said. “This is her life. Get used to it.”

  Rayph heard a laugh rising over his voice and he spoke a word. Nothing. He spoke it again, but his magic aura did not recognize it as the proper spell. His voice was too ruined by his broken jaw to cast. He could not summon his sword.

  Smear cursed.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” The voice echoed off the alley walls and Smear stepped back out of the light of the moons and into the shadow of the brothel. “Blood, sex, body parts,” the voice laughed cruel and terrible. “Snacks. We left you quite the piece of art. I hope you are thankful.”

  “I can’t follow you,” Rayph said through the fetish. “My magic is useless and I can’t keep up.”

  “It’s Artan. I can take him alone,” Smear said.

  “He is beyond Ty and Cable. He does not fear them, but I remember the dinner party and I know he wants you. Go dance with him. Coordinate with Fanhon. Get it done. Remember, don’t kill him. And watch the shadows for Mayakill. We don’t have an answer for her yet.”

  Smear slipped out of the shadows and Rayph heard crossbow fire skid through the air from the building across from him. Smear’s hand smeared right and he snatched the bolt out of the air. He dropped it to his feet and jumped across the alley into the darkness. Another laugh and Artan was gone. Smear was gone, too. Climbing the wall to the roofs above, or sprinting along the alleyway for the streets. He was deep in the sewers now, or had become smoke, whatever kind of magic that man was capable of was in play, and Rayph knew he was not going to be able to follow. He cursed Smear’s temper and ducked back into the building, grabbing his cheek. When he entered, Lyceanias and Silk stood in front of him.

  “Great allies you and your men are turning out to be,” Lyceanias said. Rayph walked past him back into the disaster.

  “Where were you?” Silk said. “We sent word for you and your people did not know where to find you.”

  Rayph shook his head but said nothing.

  “I saw Cable,” Silk snapped. “She is no better off after your ‘healing’ than she was before. Back then, we had hope even, but your slapped together jaw and neck hole didn’t leave us much after you were done slicing her up.”

  Rayph needed to beat the man’s face but he held his temper in check.

  “I don’t know why I expected you and your group to be anything but a liability,” Silk said. “You are pointless to the name, and I ought to wipe you from the world right now.” Silk motioned to Lyceanias and Rayph spun. One impact on the side of the thigh, a raking of the knuckles past the knee. Lyceanias dropped and Rayph’s own knee met Lyceanias in the face. Once and again Rayph’s knee slammed into the man’s hard face until Lyceanias dropped back unconscious, and Rayph jumped back limping. He turned to Silk with nothing but his dagger and grinned as the thorns slid into his palm.

  “Not in the mood for your talk and accusations. Take your man and leave my crime scene. If you come back, I will break you and slam you into a prison you will never find your way out of.”

  Silk stared at Lyceanias before turning back to Rayph with a sneer. “You can’t cage me, Rayph Ivoryfist. You do not control the Crown. That building and all of its assets belong to Brody.”

  “Which makes it the perfect place to drop you,” Rayph said.

  Silk paled.

  “Get your men together at your meeting ground,” Rayph said. “I want to talk to all of them. Tell me where it is right now. No more subterfuge. No more threats from you. If you try to step up to me or any of my people again you will be met with swift retaliation.” Rayph motioned to Lyceanias. “This is what you get from now on when you try to flex on me. Here in this city, you might be a big power, but where we come from, you’re just a ripple. No more playing with the Hood. If you want in this fight, you will march to my beat. I’m done with you, Silk. You are dismissed. I will tell you when you can have your brothel back. Until I say, it belongs to me.”

  “What about my girl?” Silk asked.

  “Tawny?”

  Silk nodded.

  “You can have her back when I am ready to give her to you. Until then, she is under my protection,” Rayph said.

  “Where are you going now?”

  “I’m going to talk to Brody,” Rayph said.

  Radamuss’s

  He could feel eyes on him as he walked the streets. He was passing out of Silk’s territ
ory, marching straight out of the Brown Way and its dirt streets into Planker’s Square and its flagstones. The muck of the street turned the white stones black. In the darkness it looked like a black ribbon of grime ran right through the center of town. Rayph put Planker’s behind him quickly. In less than a half hour, he walked the Beggar’s Walk.

  “Smear, where are you?”

  “I’m on a roof outside of the Chamber. I’m pinned down and waiting for his move. I have been here for about ten minutes. He has to jump soon. He is beginning to doubt himself.”

  “Fanhon?” Rayph said. Through the fetish his broken jaw wasn’t an issue. “Can you help?”

  “I can. I’ve been setting up in a place called Friars Pigeon. It’s a small marketplace for the members of the clergy outside of the religious district.”

  “I know it,” Smear said. “Where do I meet you?”

  “Can you bring him in the system to the west, left of the storehouses between the marker and the fountain?” Fanhon said.

  “Are you set up now?” Smear asked.

  “I can be there in but a few minutes,” Fanhon said.

  “Good. I’ll be there. I’ll be coming in fast.”

  “Watch for signs,” Fanhon said.

  “Keep me posted and remember, no deaths, it’s counterproductive. I’m calling a meeting in Hood’s chamber when I’m done here. I’ll tell you where when I know,” Rayph said.

  “Where are you going?” Smear asked.

  “You don’t want to know. Keep loose and remember he might not be alone,” Rayph said.

  Rayph went quiet. They asked for him for a few minutes before they realized they had their hands full and couldn’t worry about him. When Fanhon and Smear went about their work, Rayph walked through the merchants square to the richest stores in the city. They would be on mark for the richest stores in the nation for sure. There in the cleanest section of the street between a jeweler’s store and a clothier stood Radamuss’s, the most exclusive pub and inn in the city of Dragonsbane.

  Rayph walked to the steps and ripped the door open. A man stepped in front of him and he gripped the man’s wrist and spun it. He heard the tiny wrist bones shattering and grabbed the man’s hair. One knee, then two to the side of the face, and the man was swaying on his knees. Double clap to the ears and he was yelling. Punch to the throat and it was over.