Crown (The Manhunters Book 3) Page 16

  “Saw a friend nearly die today, kid. Saw a lot of blood and a lot of pain. I’ll look at more right now if you make me. Walk back to your seat or I’m gonna see so much more blood tonight you won’t believe it.”

  Smear shoved Jon Jon away and the thug stumbled off. “This is shit!” he snapped. He stormed out of the room. Smear stepped in front of Rayph.

  “Get it together, boss. We are here,” Smear whispered.

  Rayph felt summoned by the words, called to arms by them. Smear stood before him until Rayph looked back and nodded.

  Rayph turned to Silk and grimaced. “It’s been a long night.”

  “What has been productive about it?” the crime boss asked. “Long nights of work should show fruits. Did yours?”

  Rayph reached a hand to Trysliana, who slapped something large and wet into it. Rayph tossed it at Silk’s feet and watched transfixed as the hand rolled slowly to a stop. The white fur was colored red and pink, the fingers still curled like a talon. Silk stared at the hand of Blade Silvertooth before he grinned at Rayph.

  “Well done, Rayph Ivoryfist.”

  “I didn’t do it, she did,” Rayph said as Dran walked into the room. Her eyes floated everywhere from floor to ceiling, to every face and every weapon. Lyceanias stood up and slid his swords free.

  “You brought a magistrate to our meeting hall?!” Lyceanias roared. Dran settled her gaze on him and locked it there. She stepped forward, stopping directly in front of him, staring the killer in the eye.

  “Swing and I’ll have a decision to make,” Dran said.

  “What decision?”

  “Jail or grave. It will take me longer to decide than it will take me to drop you, bind you, and carry you away,” Dran said. “We didn’t come here to argue with you. We didn’t come here to fight. We came here to use you. You are a tool to us. Anything else and we wouldn’t be here. Be a useful tool or I will have to place you in a box somewhere, where useless things go.”

  Lyceanias stared at Silk who stood to speak.

  Dran continued. “We are not staying. Dragonsbane is not a place where we are going to set up forever. We don’t like this town. We want nothing to do with it. We are here to do a job and that job benefits you.

  “We pack Chaos away and you can climb out of your hole and spread like the disease you are. Crime is the way of the world. I know that better than most. If you’re doing my job, you make peace with it, deal with it and learn to shape it. You are criminals; that is what you do. Your organization is a necessary evil. As I see it, if it is not your syndicate that takes over after Chaos is killed, it will be another. You have an opportunity here. Not to show who is stronger, you or the Manhunters, but to make useful allies. Ty and Cable saw that opportunity years ago and are now friends with Rayph Ivoryfist. Decide to do the same. Struggle with us again and we will take the time to crush you before we finish off Chaos. It will be complete, and it won’t take long.” Dran looked at Silk as if trying to decide if she was done. She nodded and stepped behind Rayph.

  Rayph spoke through the fetish where none of Hood could hear. “That was more words than I think I have ever heard you speak in your life.”

  Dran said nothing to this. She crossed her hands in front of her and stood, staring straight ahead of her, waiting for a command.

  “We have been busy,” Rayph said. “If your information network is what I think it is, you know what we have done. If not, then I’m with the wrong group.”

  “You attacked Radamuss’s outright. You maimed Mayakill. You severed Blade’s hand. Your holy warrior got bit by a wererat, and your deep cover girl blew her cover. You wounded Rhonda and angered Brody. All in all, it was a productive night for you.” Silk smiled and nodded. “Where is Artan? Did you kill him?”

  “He is in a cage,” Smear said.

  “I want him,” Silk said.

  “Can’t do it,” Rayph replied.

  “Lyceanias wants to kill him. Ty wants to avenge Cable. I have a few questions for him, and my brother’s bull is hungry. We need this man in order to heal,” Silk said. “Hand him over.”

  “I can’t do that,” Rayph said.

  “This is no surprise to me, but why?”

  “Because you can’t kill him.”

  “I’m sure I can find a way,” Lyceanias said.

  “No, I cannot allow him to die. Sit there and listen. I can bring you a man who can tell you the true scope of what Chaos is,” Rayph said. “We are ready for you, Cosmo.”

  A portal opened. Cosmo stumbled through it. He squinted in the light and covered his eyes with his hand. He looked as if he had shrunk. He was white and cold looking. His hair had been shaved, which made him look much saner than Rayph had seen him in years. Cosmo patted his leg and Buddy rushed to his side.

  The whole of the room pulled back and drew closer as he looked around. “Tell them all of it, Cosmo. It is time they knew what was going on,” Sisalyyon said as she stepped through the portal. She took Cosmo’s hand and he kissed it. Sisalyyon blushed. Rayph suppressed his smile.

  “The Void. Has everyone heard of it?” Cosmo said. He had at one time been a fine teacher of magic and other things. His voice had held from that time. His demeanor still shined as he spoke, and he transfixed his audience almost instantly. “The Void was accidentally created when the world was. An undefined evil that could not take form, but was evil’s truest heart. It was as powerful as a god, and it plotted and planned. It had not the power to take shape, so it could not fight for itself, but it could overtake others. It could dominate and control. It pulled forth its terrible champions, from different worlds, to fight the gods, and there was a battle. The gods killed these champions and The Void,” Cosmo stepped up the walkway until he stood right in front of Silk. He shook his head and growled. “The Void brought them back to life!

  “It is the truest, most devastating power The Void has. It brings things back to life. It makes them stronger and it forces them back out to do its bidding.” Cosmo looked down at his feet and shook his head.

  “No, not possible.” He slapped his face and looked up at Sisalyyon. “She is far too beautiful,” Cosmo said. Tears leaked from his eyes and he shook his head.

  “Cosmo, we were talking about The Void and Brody,” Rayph said. “You were about to tell us something. Do you remember what?”

  Sisalyyon smiled with tears in her eyes and she nodded. “Come back to us, Cosmo. We need your help.”

  He nodded and bit into his lip again. He slapped his head and patted Buddy on his flat back. “Brody Bedlam is the only known priest of The Void ever in any recorded history,” Cosmo said. “He is immortal, he is powerful, and he is able to come back from the dead as many times as he wants to. We literally can’t kill him and expect him to stay dead.” Cosmo turned to Rayph and shook his head.

  “He burned me.” Cosmo pointed to his temple and frowned. “He told me too much. Far too much. Things I never should have heard. Things I wasn’t supposed to know.” Cosmo broke out in tears. Rayph stepped forward to go to him, but Sisalyyon was moving first. She stepped up to him and took his head in her hands. She kissed his forehead and she smiled at him.

  “I will take you to my home, Cosmo. We will lay in fields under the sun forever,” Sisalyyon said.

  “What about Buddy?” Cosmo whined.

  “We can’t make a home without Buddy, can we?” she said.

  Rayph looked around the room, every face staring with patience and pity. At that moment, Rayph loved the Hood. He decided he had to help them make it through this war, had to help them take over the city. Here in this place, they had shown a heart, a heart most syndicates never had.

  “Can I go with Sisalyyon when we are done?” Cosmo asked Rayph.

  Rayph smiled and fought back his tears. “You can, brother. You sure can.”

  Cosmo smiled and nodded.

  “He has lived for many lives. He has killed many men. Forty thousand years ago, he met a raksa, a terrible, evil beast who agreed to serve him
forever. And so Blade has. The raksa has died hundreds of times. Every time he is brought back. Every time he is given his power and takes his place beside Brody and they destroy; they breed chaos.

  “Artan joined Brody fifteen thousand years ago. Every time Artan is killed, Brody brings him back to life. The body dies and disintegrates. Brody can call it up from anywhere he is and it will rise from the dust. There is no killing the Chaos. There is no death that can find Brody Bedlam. There is only a cage. A cage for all of them. Every one of the host of monsters he has been collecting for tens of thousands of years.

  “Tens of thousands of years, Buddy,” Cosmo said to the dog. The stone creature looked up at him and cocked its head. “And all of it—all of it—here.” Cosmo pointed to his head. “All of his darkness locked up here.”

  “What do we do?” Silk asked.

  “We let Jon Jon do what he wants to do. We set him loose. Can we decide where the fight is going to be?” Rayph asked.

  “I know what he will want,” Lyceanias said. “There is a courtyard in a district called Dyers Alley. It was long ago lost to rot and decay. Jon Jon has faced off with his thug armies there for years. Lots of room to fight and kill. Lots of room for his entire gang.”

  “And you,” Rayph said. “His entire gang and you.”

  Lyceanias nodded. “Sure, Rayph. If you need me, you will have me.”

  Rayph nodded and turned to Silk. “Send Cable and Eloam to the Candle Tower by dawn.” Silk nodded. “Tell Jon Jon to send his challenge for noon in Dyers. Tell him it’s his show. All I ask is that he bring Lyceanias with him. Tell him I won’t get in the way. I’ll let him fight for Tawny.”

  Silk nodded. “I’ll tell him. What else do you need?”

  “I need to see this bull,” Rayph said. Silk and Lyceanias laughed.

  The Guardians of Hell

  “This is a sensitive situation and it needs to be handled with care,” Roth said.

  “You want me to bow down to them,” Tate spat.

  “No, damn, why are you like this? I don’t want you challenging them. We have nothing to prove to them. They accepted us as equals.”

  “Try telling Gale that I am his equal,” Tate said.

  Roth took him carefully by the shoulders and looked into Tate’s blue eyes. “This is not a fight unless you make it one,” Roth said. “For my sake and the sake of the Collective, please just let me do the talking.”

  Tate sneered and turned to go. “If you are doing all the talking then you don’t need me there at all,” he said, storming down the hall. He got only a few feet away before the door opened behind Roth, and Ithyryyn’s voice could be heard behind him.

  “Tate, is this a bad time?” Ithyryyn asked.

  Tate spun on them and stormed back up the hall.

  “No, Ithyryyn, it is as good a time as ever there will be,” Tate said. “If you want to know where we went, I’m dying to tell you.”

  Roth turned to Ithyryyn to see the most important room in the college. He bowed his head before walking into it. He stepped in carefully, proudly.

  The meeting hall was large and bare. It possessed six pillars each with a great cushioned chair before it. The chairs were done in leather, with delicate tables set beside them and a great six-sided table between.

  There were shelves filled with books here but no one ever read them. There was a fireplace no one ever lit and a dining table no one ate at. The only feature they ever used was the great table set in the middle of the room and the chairs that sat around it.

  Each chair had a banner hanging above it, each with the emblem of the master who sat that chair. The ceiling was impossibly high and upon it was painted an image of the gods at war.

  The Collective did not build this castle. This room had existed for years before they came. But the six pillars, the image of the gods in struggle above them, and the mammoth size of the room lent itself to this one purpose. Roth took his seat at the table, Ithyryyn taking his. Tate paced behind his own.

  “Tate, you look tense,” Quill said. The two of them had always been close. In Roth’s mind, Quill’s and Tate’s relationship had planted the seed of desire for Tate to be as close to his own mother as he could.

  “I don’t want to fight!” Tate said a little too loud.

  “Good, because that is not what we do,” Thrak said. He had pushed back from the table and crossed his legs in his chair.

  “We are family here,” Gale said.

  “You say that, but you stole us from our real family, didn’t you?” Tate snapped.

  Roth felt the dart as if thrown at him. He turned to Tate and hissed. In his mind, there was some semblance of words to it, but they did not form out loud. All he felt was a deep sense of pain and a strong pang of fear. Fear that Tate would leave them all. Fear that he would be thrown out.

  Gale stared at Tate with no emotion on his face. He sighed and rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers.

  “My brother brought you both to me a long time ago. He told me you needed someone to look after you, and I did. That is all I can say about it, except that I never wanted to know where you were from. It never mattered to me.”

  “Tate, please sit,” Quill said.

  Tate glared at her. He dropped into his chair.

  “Where have you been?” Ithyryyn asked. “We felt you leave the planes we guard, but we did not see where you went and we did not look.”

  “Thank you,” Roth said.

  “Why?” Tate asked.

  “Because as we saw it, it was none of our business,” Gale said.

  Tate’s face dropped. He looked at Roth, then back to the group. “You think it was none of your business?” The slightest hint of a smile crossed Tate’s face. Gale nodded.

  “If you had needed us, you would have sent for us, correct?” Thrak said.

  “We would have.”

  “We are a resource for you to call on when in need,” Quill said. “Not parents you have to ask in order to leave our sights.” She looked to Thrak, and Roth could tell she was nervous. Every time she got edgy, she looked to her lover. “We want to know where you went. We want you to modify our rings so that we can go there, too. We would like to know how the trip went, and we would like to know if it presented any problems that you need our help fixing.”

  “We went looking for Harloc the Longsword,” Roth said. “See I cast—”

  “We went to Hell,” Tate blurted out.

  Ithyryyn jumped to his feet. Thrak’s mouth fell open, his fingers twitching toward his wand. Quill stared wide-eyed and Gale shouted.

  “You did what?!” He leapt to his feet and charged Tate.

  Thrak cast a spell and Gale fell into a portal opened under him. He was gone for a breath, long enough for Thrak to get to his feet, before Gale kicked the door open and stormed in.

  “What have you done?!” Gale shouted.

  Tate slipped his hands in his gloves and flexed his fingers. Gale reached for his rod, and Roth ripped free his sword and drove the tip of it into the floor. With a blasting of air, the portal shot forward and dropped all of them through the floor. Within a blink, they were in Purgatory.

  “What came over your mind that made you think that was okay?” Gale said. He still came at Tate, and Ithyryyn stepped before him. Ithyryyn was speaking, but Roth could not hear what he was saying. He cast a decipher spell an instant before they stopped talking.

  “Do you realize what you have done?” Thrak said with a calm, measured voice. “Before you acted, did you figure what this act would mean for our Collective?”

  Tate was smiling, but Roth shook his head. He turned to Ithyryyn. “What does he mean?” Roth said.

  “We are the guardians of the worlds we chose to open portals to. Timea, the world of man; The Vault, the world of the Sentries; The Veil, the land of the Fey; Dimlot, the land of Shadow; and Purgatory, the land of Nothingness. All of these worlds are under our protection and have been for years. But we did not choose to open a gate to Hell,
” Thrak said.

  “We don’t want to have a presence there,” Gale snapped. “We never wanted to come to its aid.”

  Roth looked at Tate and saw the slightest smirk on his face. Roth was shot through with rage. He knew he had been played.

  “Did you know this?” Roth asked.

  “I figured it might be the case,” Tate said. “I knew we were guardians, just as you did. I ran through the implications to the portal there, but the risks seemed to pale before the gains.”

  “What do we do now?” Quill said. She was asking anyone ready to answer. She looked more than scared, and Tate walked over to her and hugged her.

  “I will take on this responsibility,” Tate said.

  “No! We do not need a Lord of Hell,” Gale spat. “We will have to destroy their rings.”

  Tate held his gloved hands up. “You will not take my ring.”

  “We can’t take their rings,” Ithyryyn said. “They are masters of the Collective, just as we are.”

  “We can get more crystal. We hit the Sizen Dere. We take the crystal we need, and we craft them new rings,” Gale said.

  “No one is taking my ring,” Roth said. “That will not happen.”

  “If you try to take them, we will fight you,” Tate said. Roth was not ready to say that, but Tate’s eyes begged for support and he had to choose his brother over the rest of them.

  “No one is taking your rings,” Ithyryyn said. “We will make this work.”

  Another thought seemed to cross Gale’s mind, and his eyes registered panic. He rushed to Roth. Tate was casting already, but Quill disarmed the spell before it flew.

  Gale grabbed Roth by the sides of the head and stared into his eyes. He looked at his face, running his fingers through Roth’s hair. Gale wrapped an arm around him and turned to stare at Tate. Tears rose to Gale’s eyes when he sobbed out. “Are you okay?” Gale dragged Roth over to Tate and wrapped them both in a tight embrace. “Are you hurt? Did you actually go in? Did you eat anything? If you eat anything, you have to go back.”