The Devil's Due [Completed]

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Freddy wiped a slick of water from his brow and scratched at the yellow rings on his neck. The recent tattoo he’d gotten to mark his elevation in the Vipers hadn’t healed clean and despite the healer’s admonishments he continued to scratch and prod at it. It was raining, as it did often enough in the autumn months. This wouldn’t be a problem if he’d pulled watch duty, or rum running. Instead, he was leaning against a corner wall watching for shakedown targets while the rain soaked him to his bones. Normally this was an exciting and involved job, people foolishly ducked into alleys all the time when the sun was out. The problem was the thrice-damned rain made folks stick to the middle roads, avoiding the deluge of water that ran along the edges of the streets. As another stream of water trickled into his eye, Freddy became certain this is what the bards meant when they talked about woe and misery.

He had half a mind to cancel the whole thing, send his boys to crawl the bars and pick up a few fights instead. The Vipers were good at that sort of thing, they looked tough, were tough, and didn’t have a moral fiber between them. The problem was, the places would either be packed to the brim, or dead empty. There didn’t seem to be an inbetween, and the rain made folks jumpy. He didn’t want to explain to Foreman why he had more guys lazing about with gut wounds again. He was so annoyed at his his own wandering thoughts that he almost missed the cloaked woman moving past him and into the side alley. Freddy gave himself a shake and waited a beat before stepping off the building to follow. He’d make sure she was well off the street before he called out for the boys.

[Katarya Frost]

Kat smoothed down her dress and pressed her hands against her braid; it was looser than usual. Artemis liked her hair down, but she didn't (she felt it made her look soft), so she had compromised and gone for a loose style Elven braid which Raya had taught her.

When she had gotten the message that Artemis had 'a surprise' for her (and this time she hoped it wasn't him just dropping his trousers ... kind of), she was pleased. It had been work and work again, lately. Trying to get the funds for her spot in the Warehouse was meaning she was constantly doing small contracts and being the 'go-to' healer whenever the Kelbé needed one.

When she stepped into the tavern proper, she pulled her shawl around herself and turned to Elára. "How do I look?" She asked, turning her head to show off her braid.

Elára glanced up for a moment, raised a brow and said simply: "Efficient."

Kat smiled. "High praise! Good night, Quimellë."

***

The streets were quiet tonight; Nyx fluttered from rooftop to rooftop, as Kat strolled along. It would be nice to have some down time. The Hart wasn't the same without Dáire and Raen. The former was one of her closest friends and she missed him dearly and the latter ... well, he could be cheeky and too quick with his tongue, but the place seemed all the poorer for his absence.

She turned a corner, and her eyes flicked up as Nyx let out a squawk. The meaning of which became clear when a man stepped out from the shadows and stood right in front of her. Kat's eyes narrowed; there was nothing good about this man; she could feel it.

"Good evening, sir." She said, "Is there something I can help you with?" Her heart beat a little quicker in her chest; could she handle a ruffian? Whatever trinkets she had, she was not prepared to hand them over. She'd fight. But would she win?

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Freddy grinned when the woman came to a halt a few steps from Craig. The man was massive, even for the Vipers, and so he was often put on front duty to cow folks before things went sideways. Unfortunately for all his size and fearsomeness he equally lacked in the brains.

“I think there’s something I’d like, my hands around your pretty neck while you whimper for more,” Craig said, immediately escalating what should have been a simple robbery into the threat of rape and perhaps murder. Freddy glared at the man, lifting his truncheon from his belt to rest comfortably in his hand. He needed to get control of the situation before the lady did something stupid. She was clearly used to wealth, poor folk went to begging or running instead of polite conversation when confronted with thugs.

“Shut your idol-claimed mouth, you pile of pig shit,” Freddy half shouted over the woman as he moved to block her retreat back to the street. “We’re looking for coin, nothing else Lady. Just a nice easy robbery. Clean and simple, without a worry,” he said, speaking in his best attempt at calmly to try and deescalate the situation. He could give Craig the punishing he deserved later, maybe dockside duty for a month, for now he had to finish the job.

Then Anke came around the corner and Freddy remember exactly why this was the worst job. Anke was a joker, a clown, the kind of guy that enjoyed things going sideways just so he could get a laugh. He was also an excellent runner, likely the reason then skinny looking man survived in the Vipers, one of the fastest Freddy could get his hands on.

“Come on now boss, nothing like a little fun to put the sunshine back in the rainy days,” Anke said, sauntering up to Craig’s side and clapping the much bigger man on the shoulder. The runner wore a broad shit eating grin and he even licked his lips slowly to add to his provocation. Freddy’s knuckles went white on his truncheon and he heavily considered braining the asshole right then and there. Sure it’d cost the Vipers, but no one ever counted things Anke made go wrong just for a laugh. Freddy was almost certain he could it explain it to Foreman well enough before they gouged his eyes out.

Unfortunately for Freddy, Craig took little provocation to accept a plan of action. The mountain of muscle moved forward chuckling and making grabby hands before Freddy could even think to shout him down again.

[Katarya Frost]

Katarya's eyes narrowed as the brute advanced on her. Rather than shrink back, she lifted her her chin: "You'll get to fun nor coin form me, you ridiculous, blathering idiot." She held up her palm and focused. "Fúmë" She said, in a loud commanding voice.

The man before her dropped to the floor as the sleeping spell took immediate effect.

Kat's heart fluttered at the use of a spell with such force; usually she used it to gently lull folks to sleep when needed, not do this. But instead she turned her eyes to the other men. "You can step away or die; like you friend. Choices, gentlemen."

Above her Nyx took flight and vanished into the darkness

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Freddy heard the woman’s defiance and grinned. It was not entirely unusual for the coddled and those who just thought the poor were beneath them, like the rats in the gutter. Then she said a word he didn’t recognize and it resonated with some sort of power. Craig dropped like his soul had been ripped out and Freddy’s eyes went wide. His gut roiled with terror and fury. She’d killed Craig, and with magic. This had gone from simple to deadly faster than he could blink and now the mage hunters would come. They never gave up, they’d find Freddy no matter how far he ran. He had to get away, he had to get her too so they didn’t use their tools to track him.

“You mage bitch,” he said as the terror and fury combined into a need to act. He lunged forward and whipped his truncheon into Katarya’s stomach. The sharp whump of solid wood hitting yielding flesh joined the Witch’s choked gasp as she fell to her knees. Freddy stepped around her, his eyes filled with malice and hatred. “You think you can just snuff him out? Do what you please. I know you bastards can’t do magic if you can’t talk,” he said before jabbing her in the chest with the truncheon.

“Better make sure you know to keep your mouth shut,” Freddy added before snapping his weapon across her face. The unforgiving wood slammed into Katarya’s imperious features with brutal force. Blood began to well in her mouth as her own teeth serrated her cheek. It joined the flow from her split lip as she yelped in pain.

Anke finally came out of his shock and scrambled over to Craig’s collapsed body. He reached down and put a hand lightly on the man’s neck and another on his chest. “He’s alive, I think,” he said in a strangled shout as he tried to remember how to count a pulse. Anke’s eyes were wild with terror. He’d likely not expected to finally see consequences for his foolishness.

As Freddy’s truncheon struck her again Katarya whimpered, trying desperately to marshall her addled thoughts and clear her mouth of blood. She remained on her knees, her own pride refusing to allow her to curl up and wish for death. She even managed to spit a glob of crimson in defiance as the thug brought his weapon back for a third strike. He looked down at the stain on his pant leg and laughed.

“A strong one, but still just a fool,” he said as he snapped his truncheon out and clipped her across the temple. Katarya’s vision went grey as she slumped to the ground. She could feel the pounding of her heart leaking from a new gash along her head. Then she lost her last grip and slipped into unconsciousness. Freddy watched her go limp and felt a small measure of satisfaction. It faded as he heard Anke smacking Craig’s cheek in a vain attempt to wake the man.

“Stop it you idiot. Just make a run for some extras and we’ll carry him in,” he commanded and the panicked man nodded jerkily before sprinting off. Freddy watched him go before looking back down at the battered and bleeding Witch. “Now we have to take you in, can’t have the watch coming by and following the magic back to me. No we can not,” he murmured to himself quietly as he pulled a length of rough rope from his bag and began to bind the Witch’s hands and feet.

⁂

The thugs weren’t gentle when they dropped the wrapped cloth bundle containing the still unconscious Katarya into what could barely be called a cell. Neither were they kind when they kicked her awake several hours later. The only kindness they’d offered her was the dirty rag that had been shoved into her mouth happened to slow the bleeding of her cheek and lip.

Her prison was damp, cold, and made up of possibly the most rusted iron available. Patched and jury rigged bars made of all manner of scrap metal formed three walls riddled with sharp edges and stabbing protrusions. The pitted stone floor beneath her was covered in a sheen of lichen and smelled of fish guts. The only light was a sputtering torch high on the wall opposite her cell entrance that barely reached the corners of her cell. The door itself seemed newer but equally poorly maintained, the large iron lock looked rusted shut and there was an equally degraded chain wrapped around the handle and the cell wall.

Perhaps most degrading of all, after the beating and imprisonment, was that they didn’t even feel the need to guard her. Her hands weren’t even bound, though there were grooves rubbed raw along her wrists and ankles. She’d been left to wallow, not even worth the time to watch over.

[Katarya Frost]

Katarya's first thought was that she couldn't breathe, and it wasn't until she spat out the cloth that had been jammed into her mouth that she realised she had been gagged. What was just as alarming was the blood that followed.

She pulled herself to a sitting position; everything hurt. Her face, her stomach ... a strong ache permeated her body and she closed her eyes for a moment; she was scared.

It took her a minute or so to gather her courage; maybe it was her false sense of superiority or just her over-abundance of confidence, but she got to her feet ... then fell to her knees. She didn't need a mirror to know her face was swollen; she didn't need a healer's hand to know know her belly was badly bruised. "I guess I'm not in a good way." She croaked. A sheer understatement.

Kat had never been in this position; this was almost beyond her. But she needed to survive, the pride in her won out when she though 'Toothless ingrates won't be the death of me'

She stumbled to the cell door, each footstep a trial. She rested her head against it for a moment as she caught her breath, hair now free of it's braid and hanging lankly on her sweating face.

Katarya reached in, searching for whatever reserves she had ... Nyx had gone, to get help no doubt, but she couldn't wait for that; she had to act. She pressed her hands against the cold metal of the chain and summoned everything she had. "Láta" She said, casting the opening the spell. The chain relaxed, and she reached for it. her arms shook as she pulled at it, trying to undo the chain as quietly as possible ... but was entirely unsuccessful. The noise rang as loud as a church bell.

The door swung wide with a loud groan and Kat sunk to the floor as the energy of the spell drained her. She managed to pull herself to her feet,, her head swimming and her vision blurred; she stepped out of the cell.

[Artemis Black]

Artemis was sitting in the workyard poking through several boxes of equipment and tools that had been left outside the East Hall. He imagined they belonged to the work crew who was coming later that day, but it was strange that a crew would be willing to just leave their tools out in the open. He was just starting to wonder what gang they paid protection to when Nyx came swooping down croaking her head off. Artemis felt a wave of fear as she flew over to a small bell he’d had installed and flapped at it mercilessly.

He’d only taught her the trick a day after the bell was put in. To most it was simply designed to get the attention of the shopkeepers that would move in. For Nyx though it was any easy way to indicate severe trouble without Artemis needing to play charades. The Thief looked to the bird and nodded, running inside to grab a few spare knives and flip a small sign so Ksenia would know he was out if she came looking. Then he was back out and scrambling onto the rooftop, watching Nyx from the edges of his vision as he ran as fast as he could.

⁂

When Nyx started circling before coming down to land on the rooftop Artemis felt very bad about everything he could see in front of him. The building ahead looked like an old fishery turned into a structure fire just waiting for an excuse. The roof was caved in where a large timber had fallen, the walls were cracked and warped with age, and what remained of the windows were crusted with so much dust and salt they were impenetrable to the faint sun struggling to pierce the clouds. Worse than all the signs this was were you’d dump a body, the near dozen thugs and thieves idling around the place were clearly not comfortable. That meant something very bad was happening, like the arrival of a boss, or the murder of a mage.

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Craig was bored, which in itself wasn’t terribly uncommon since he’d joined the Vipers. He was also furious, which was a little more rare when the gang offered him many chances to vent his anger and get praised for doing so well. That pale faced slut had done something strange to adle his brain and knock him out cold. Now he was on a grubby cot in a dank room all alone with orders to not leave or bother the prisoner. He growled to himself, wondering if it’d be worth the beating to go in there and have his way for a bit. They were just going to kill her anyway, didn’t need to be right to have her soul ripped out. Then there was a loud clatter of rusted chain hitting stone and Craig’s face split in a grin.

He hopped out of bed, taking a second to steady himself as his body protested, and moved over to the closed heavy oaken door to the holding room. After several unsuccessful tries he yanked the warped wood open to a screech of protesting hinges. He spotted Katarya clearly gathering her senses in the middle of the room, outside her cell.

“They said I couldn’t touch the prisoner,” he said with a hearty chuckle. “But they didn’t say nothing about a girl skulking around the cells.” He licked his lips slowly and began to open and close his broad hands eagerly as he trundled towards her somewhat off balance. His heart started beating hard in his chest and he felt the thrill of what was to come. As he stepped forward again his foot landed heavy and he felt his world start to spin. With a yelp he stumbled and bounced off the wall, grunting at the pain in his shoulder and the spinning in his head.

“You did this,” he growled as his vision blurred. He tried to thrust his hand out accusingly, but couldn’t quite figure which of the spinning witches ahead of him deserved his ire. Craig gave himself a shake and groaned softly. After a moment his vision cleared and he was left only with a vague sense of imbalance. “I’m going to beat you raw and then make you beg for it,” he shouted before closing the distance between them with another off-balanced lumbering stride. As he moved he stumbled again, his fist that was heading for her temple struck her in the mouth weakly instead. Had he connected as he intended Katarya likely would have crumpled. Instead it was a blow that would leave her reeling, but still standing defiantly.

[Katarya Frost]

Kat's head snapped back at the blow. Weak as it was, it was enough to send her a few steps back and, in a most unladylike fashion, the turned and spit out the blood in her mouth. She turned to the man with narrowed eyes. "Red was never my colour, you son of a whore!" She hissed.

Bringing forth what little she had left she simple repeated the sleeping spell from before. But her exhaustion has done something; as she cast, around her the walls became coated with glistening frost. Even as the man fell before her, his body twinkled in the faint light as ice had formed along his body.

This was new; but she didn't have time to wonder at it. She lurched forward, taking a moment to rest against a wall. Her stomach hurt so badly she thought the might throw up, and her head .. it span and she staggered as she moved forward.

Her magic was nearly gone; she had perhaps the energy for one last push, but she knew she would be done. Following the murky passageway, she reached a door. Stupidly, she didn't listen before she pushed it open, groaning at the effort.

The scene she walked into was that of a half a dozen men all eating. It was unclear who was more surprised; them or Kat.

The haughty witch drew herself up as best she could, dried blood on her face and her face swollen. "If one of you fine gentlemen could show me the way out, I would be much obliged." She said, with much, much more confidence than she felt. She might be able to take down one, maybe two, but she was done.

This might be her last moment, and her pride grated that it would be done at the hands of ruffians or no class or finesse.

She held a hand up before her; it shook a little. "Try it." She warned them, pouring as much conviction as she could into her own futile words.

[Artemis Black]

Artemis figured he didn’t have much time. If they’d called for a ripper then every minute spent in or around the building was another minute he might be in way over his head. He didn’t have the gear, crew, or inclination to deal with a death mage today. With a grit of his teeth he looked to Nyx.

“If a spooky looking mage shows up, make all the noise you can and then get as far away as possible,” he said before moving back on his roof. Nyx croaked and took off again, making slow lazy circles of the building while Artemis took deep focusing breaths and checked his knives.

“No armor, half my blades, and I’m likely going to have to carry her out,” he said to himself with a shake of his head. “I’m going to make her buy the drink and fuck her ragged in just the cloak for this.” He gave himself one last shake and sprinted forward to leap the gap between buildings. His landing wasn’t his most graceful, given that the rotting wood buckled like a whore’s promises as he tumbled across it.

He managed to turn his fall into a braced roll and come up with only a single hitching stumble. In a rapid scan he assessed the room and counted five threats and one startled looking Katarya. Without waiting for the dust to settle he moved, throwing a knife at the thug closest to his love and dashing towards the furthest target.

His blade struck home in the unfortunate man’s gut as Artemis reached his second target. A quick jab to the neck and a rake across the chest ended another life before anyone in the room could properly react. ‘Three left, assume Kat’s battered enough she’s a liability. Crossbow, sheepdog, hamstring,’ he thought to himself as he turned and lifted the light crossbow he’d taken from the dead Crimson thugs weeks ago.

The bolt hit the man in the shoulder, spinning him around with a pained gasp before he fell to the ground. The other thug who’d been advancing on Kat shouted and spun to face Artemis. He had two spare knives to toss and three men to kill or disable. This was not going to be easy, and he didn’t know how much time he had before the guards outside made it in.