Scion of Dragonclaw (Nysta Book 8) Read online

  Together, they herded the perfect people up against the doors. Pushed them hard with terror as a whip.

  The elf glided to her left as two men tried to make it past. Cut them down with savage strikes. Left one to crawl away, leaving a thick red stripe in his wake. His wailing cries added to the pestilence of fear.

  An old woman flinched back, thin arms curled up in front of her chest.

  Wrinkles buried under thick layers meant to hide her age. Layers of alchemical cream and thin putty. Some of it cracked and peeling around her jaw. Too pink on her cheeks.

  Bloodshot eyes yellow with age.

  One withered hand uncurled. Stretched toward the elf, palm up. Another clawing at her face as if she could erase sight of her dying friends. “Please! We’re unarmed!”

  “I know.” The elf sliced through her hand and drove A Flaw in the Glass deep into brittle ribs. “And that just makes it easier.”

  Grunted, kicking the dead woman off her knife.

  Killed two more with effortless brutality, unable to stop the grin from pulling tight across her face. Felt the ecstatic thrill which came from the fear of being surrounded by enemies in battle and the satisfaction of knowing there was nothing they could do but die.

  And perfect people died fast.

  The first guard made it through the seething crowd, launched toward the elf by a pair of men whose powdered faces and painted lips worked desperate pleas into comical expressions.

  Wigs askew, the spidery men squawked something the elf couldn’t make out.

  Neither could the guard, who skidded in a thin river of red. Nearly went down on his knees.

  Snarled a curse.

  Then vomited blood across No Doors are Closed to Coltaine’s metal handle. The throwing knife remained stuck in his throat as he dropped to his knees. The elf smashed his face with a punch to send him spinning onto his back.

  Klista prowled the edge. Psychotic gleam in her eye.

  Waved her sword at the crowd.

  “Who’s next? What about you, you princey-looking fuck? Yeah. You look ready for plucking. Don’t make me come get you.” Then shook her head in mock disappointment as he pushed a woman in heavy dress between them. Gibbered as he tried to sink deeper into a crowd refusing to let him through. “Yeah. Didn’t expect you to have any balls. You rich cunts never do.”

  Shoed the woman aside and leapt on him.

  Swinging.

  Ignored all begging.

  Ignored all screams.

  Cut and cut until blood finished spurting.

  Looked up, dark red gore drooling off her face. Grinned through the wet crimson veil at the woman whose shrieks had long grown hoarse.

  Aimed the sword.

  Said; “You’re next, you diamond-studded bitch.”

  And the elf didn’t see the rest.

  Was busy with guards who’d made it through the frenzied crowd. Axes and swords seeming to come at her from all sides.

  Still lunging into the perfect people with every opportunity.

  Adding her own count of bodies dropped into crumpled heaps. Others, left to bleed and scream, skidded like wounded grubs against the glass walls.

  “Hideg,” she hissed at a skinny guard elbowing his way through. “Where is he?”

  “Fuck you, long-ear.”

  Spoonful of Ants spun into his shoulder. Should’ve got him in the chest, but he was quick enough to wrench himself sideways. He swung wildly with the axe, aware he had to keep her back. But she wasn’t there. Had moved on. Left him to bend across the wound and contemplate pulling the knife free.

  The elf spat a curse.

  Was exchanging a whirl of strikes with a bucktoothed guard. He was quick, but the elf was moving quicker. Hate and rage blocking all thought from her head other than to kill.

  Uppercut slash ripped through forearm.

  Slammed boot between legs. Connected with inner thigh. Missed his balls.

  Took a punch to the forehead. Soaked the mostly-defensive blow. Took two quick steps back, then rammed her body into the muscular belly. Hard point of her shoulder first.

  A Flaw in the Glass second.

  A wave of shocked squeals as intestines flopped to the ground like fresh birthed eels. Glistening.

  The elf whirled to the squealing crowd.

  Eyes thin.

  “Hideg,” she roared. “Get out here, you bastard!”

  “Stop.” Hysterical. “Stop it. Stop it, please! He’s not here! He hasn’t been here for hours.”

  The elf cut through a guard, unimpressed by the mechanical motions he’d made with his sword. Left him to twitch and bleed as she snatched a fistful of the young woman’s lavender dress.

  A crooked man in tight breeches and floral lace looked like he might intervene but instead chose to look away.

  Trying to melt into the crowd.

  Nysta pushed her face close to the woman’s nose. “Say that again.”

  “He’s not here.”

  “Why not? Where is he?”

  The woman shook her head. Lifted her chin. Trying to be brave. “I won’t tell you.”

  Grabbing the woman by the shoulder, Nysta wheeled her over a line of dead bodies. Hissing as she pushed the woman’s head down so she could stare in horror at Freddy’s sightless eyes.

  The old man wasn’t there, but his corpse told the woman everything she needed to know about death.

  Who tried to let out a shriek, but it came out as a gulping croak.

  “Take a long look, lady.” The elf’s voice was cruel. “A real long look. And ask yourself if you want to end up like that.”

  “Please…”

  “Where the fuck is Hideg?”

  “I can’t…”

  Pulled the woman’s head back. Pressed A Flaw in the Glass against perfect throat. Perfect pale skin. Unblemished. Flawless. Soft. Filled with hot red blood.

  All it would take to send it gushing across her fist would be one quick rake of the blade.

  The elf drew lips back into a fierce grin. “Last chance, lady. And if you won’t talk, then you’re no fucking good to me alive.”

  It was the man in tight breeches who shrieked; “The courtyard! He’s in the courtyard with the soldiers!” Then clapped a hand across his mouth and looked sideways, ashamed of the high-pitched squeal which had emerged.

  Nysta’s gaze never moved from the woman. “What’s your name, lady?”

  “I am Analia Spark. My father is-”

  “Ain’t interested in your fucking biography,” the elf snapped. “Except the part where you tell me you and Hideg are as close as I’m thinking you are.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she said. Pride forcing through the fear. “He’d kill you for this. You hear me? He’ll kill you.”

  “We’ll see, won’t we?” She hurled Analia in Klista’s direction. Pointed a finger at one of the dead guards. “Grab his lantern. She’ll need to see her way through the Halls.”

  “We’re taking her?” Sceptical. “Are you sure? She’ll be a pain in the ass.”

  “She’s coming. Seems like she’s someone Hideg might be real pleased to see.” The elf turned to the crowd. Murderous look in her eye. “If I had time, I’d kill you all. Lucky for you, the music’s stopped. Means this dance is over.”

  “What do you think you’re doing? You leave Lady Ana alone!” The man in tight breeches. Stunning even himself with the force in his voice. Dropped his eyes as hers flashed toward him. “Please?”

  The elf pursed her lips and gathered knives quickly.

  “Too late, feller. Reckon tonight’s a night for dirty deeds.” Shot him a smirk as she tucked knives away. “Your name ain’t Bon, is it?”

  Jaw dropped. Face paled. “How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess. It ain’t true, by the way.”

  “What?”

  Eyed him up and down with a smirk. Then looked around the ballroom. “I’ve seen bigger.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “You can’t do this
! I’m telling you, you can’t. Let me go. Let me go and maybe you’ll be shown some mercy. Are you listening to me? My father is-”

  Klista growled. “Ah, shut your mouth or I’ll cut out your tongue.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Sure I would,” the young Shiv shoved Analia Spark between shoulders with the tip of her cane sword. Left a spot of someone else’s blood behind. “You rich fucks always piss me off. What’d you ever do that was so fucking special, huh? Nothing. You’re leeching off your daddy’s fucking coin. That’s all. And you stand up there, on your high fucking chair and you tell us common folk what to do because you think that coin gives you some kind of Grim-given right to rule. I’ll bet the hardest thing you’ve done all year is put on that fucking dress. You’re a waste of space and make me sick to my fucking guts. Slicing your tongue out would be a fucking pleasure.”

  “What would you know, peasant? You don’t know anything about me.” Sour.

  “I know more than you think,” Klista said. Shoved her again. “You’ve got an apartment on our turf.”

  “Your turf?”

  “Yeah. Maybe I’ll pay it a visit tomorrow. Burn it to the fucking ground.”

  “You-”

  “Wouldn’t dare,” Klista finished for her. Mocking. “Fuck. Now I’m definitely gonna torch it. Warm my hands while your pretty fucking gowns burn. You know, just thinking about it makes me hot.”

  The elf rubbed her eyes. Only a dry purple blush remained in echo of the savage blood red haze which had helped her navigate the Halls. Still, they itched a little behind the lids.

  Runners would be sent to Hideg, she thought.

  And what would he do?

  Send assassins? Soldiers?

  Either way, she had no intention of dying. So, she kept moving. Upward. Counting off each step in her head. Pushing an image of the castle’s dusky interior into her mind. Exploring her memory.

  Hoping she was right.

  A little further, she thought. It had to be close.

  Finally, satisfied, she snatched Analia by her sleeve and dragged her up another winding stairwell. “Up.”

  “I can’t go any further.”

  “Then you’re no good to me.” The woman started to drop to the floor until she felt the steel edge against her throat and heard the elf rasp; “In which case, I’m happy to leave you right here. Permanently.”

  “I’m telling you, I can’t…”

  “Weak bitch,” Klista smirked. “Probably hasn’t walked anywhere on her own legs since she was born.”

  The elf’s hand tightened around the handle. “Sure you ain’t got anything left in those dancing feet of yours? I could cut them both off and find out, if you like.”

  Anger flared. “Fine!” Tried to shrug free, but couldn’t. “But I’m really going to enjoy watching you suffer. When Hideg gets you, you’re going to regret speaking to me like this. He’ll make sure of that.”

  “I’m already suffering,” the elf said. Then, to Klista; “Stay close behind her. If she tries to run, stick her.”

  “What if she slips?”

  “Stick her.”

  “Pleasure.”

  Analia scowled. Looked down at the lantern in her hand.

  And the elf saw the thought as it began to creep into her petulant brain.

  “You ain’t fast enough,” she said. “Try it, and more than a handful of gowns are gonna burn.”

  Red cheeks flushed beneath pale powder. Snap; “I wasn’t thinking anything!”

  “I believe that,” Klista snorted.

  “You-”

  And Klista slapped her.

  “Careful what you say, Lady Spark,” the Shiv snarled. “Or I’m gonna start thinking you’re one of us common folks you hate so much.”

  “Let’s go,” Nysta said. “We ain’t got time for this.”

  “You heard,” Klista shoved the woman. “Move your ass.”

  Analia said nothing. Rubbed her cheek as she climbed. Aristocratic brain calculating the number of insults she’d had to put up with.

  Exploring the many punishments she could inflict.

  But none seemed as bad as the look she’d seen in Klista’s eyes, so she worked her mouth. Biting lip and refusing to let tears spill.

  “We’re a bit high for the courtyard,” Klista said after a while.

  The elf nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Any reason for it?”

  The elf shrugged. “Ain’t really sure. But something the Duke said before I killed him. Made me think.”

  “You killed the Duke?” Analia gasped. “Oh, Dark Lord, you are so dead. Hideg will hunt you down for that. He won’t rest until you’re hanged! He loved his father.”

  “Wouldn’t bet on it, lady.” The elf said. Relishing the sliver of fear which grew in the woman’s eyes. She reached and took the woman’s dress in her fist. Leaned close. “Who do you think asked me to kill the old bastard in the first place? You think I did all this for fun? Did this for gold. And Hideg promised a lot of it. More than I can carry, he said. Well, I can carry a lot. But I got a feeling that collecting might be a bit harder than I thought. Maybe you’re gonna make it easier. Maybe you won’t. Either way, best keep your mouth shut from here. I hear your voice again, I’ll let Klista take your tongue. Understand?”

  Analia nodded, eyes wide.

  Looked past the woman to Klista. “I always keep my word.”

  The Shiv grinned. “Just the tongue?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Done.”

  At the top, a door.

  She pulled the bolt and creaked it open to the cool night breeze. A welcome change from the stink of sewage which had grown even stronger.

  Stepped out, looking up. Clouds tumbled across each other, but there were enough stars glittering through to banish thoughts of rain. And the moon hovered, its petulant glow ringing wide.

  They were on the narrow ramparts, crenelated walls either side. To her left, she could see the pale stone courtyard gleaming in magelights. He’d lit them all.

  Revealed an army spreading itself out and working towards covering the gates. Some were starting to head up onto the walls. Others preparing to enter the castle itself.

  Hideg was making his move.

  Ready to take the city and hold it in an iron gauntlet of soldiers.

  Klista whistled softly between her teeth. “Shit. Must be thousands of the bastards.”

  Analia’s lips trembled.

  Her eyes screamed a need to shout a warning to Hideg, who was most likely below. But Klista’s sword tucked under the woman’s chin. “Just keep thinking about your tongue.”

  Nysta nodded.

  Looked around.

  Found what she was looking for around a sharp bend along the ramparts. A raised platform snuggled between two looming towers. If they moved quick, the soldiers below shouldn’t see them.

  “This way.” And pulled the woman by her clean hair. It felt soft in the elf’s hands. Too soft. She yanked harder. “Come on!”

  It looked like a well, but no one would want to drink from anything a bucket would haul up.

  She’d seen it before, but from the other side. Looked down to confirm, but didn’t need more than a taste of the fetid air.

  The shaft speared deep into the castle’s guts and provided an exit for the toxic gas from the sewers. Somewhere beneath, three corpses lay abandoned in filth.

  Just over waist high, a small wall circled the shaft’s rancid mouth.

  Mist coiled upward to be reluctantly swept along on the wind.

  “Oh,” Analia gagged. “What is that stink? Why have you brought us here?”

  The elf ignored her.

  Chewed her bottom lip.

  Looked back to the courtyard.

  Klista danced up next to them, one eye on the troops lined up below. Another on archers in turrets. Archers yet to notice the trio, but that would change soon.

  Quicker than expected, as a voice called soft from
the dark.

  “You know, I always say to myself if you look for the biggest stink of shit, you will find my old friend, Nysta. She will always be right there. And look at this. Here she is.”

  The elf’s spine chilled as he rose from behind the low wall.

  Along with a dozen other shapes who’d been ducked down with him.

  Bonebreakers.

  Staring with malevolent hatred.

  “Eli,” she breathed. “Ain’t the only thing that stinks. So does your timing.”

  “You two know each other?” Klista crouched, sword glinting.

  “Know each other?” Eli let out a nasty chuckle. “Why, this is my most trusted friend in all of the Deadlands. We fight many times together, you know. Many times. Did she tell you about the time we killed an entire army of Caspiellans? Much more than what you see in front of you. Thousands more. Well. Maybe about the same, now I look at them closer. Very well, I admit it was a few less. But not too many. Maybe only a few hundred. It does not matter. We are the best fighters in all of the Deadlands. You ask anybody. They will tell you. We are almost the same person, they will say. Only, as you can see, I am much better looking. And she is a rancid little pigthief. A stealer of knives. And, by smell of it, a bather in shit.”

  The elf recovered from her shock. “Only reason you find me around the stink of shit, Eli, is because you always bring it with you.” She tucked A Flaw in the Glass away and pulled The Ugly from its sheath along her back. “You came looking for this, I take it?”

  “Ah, I cannot tell you how I have looked forward to holding it again.” He grinned widely, gap-tooth whistling as he sucked a breath. He made a show of curling his hands around an invisible hilt. “It is a good knife, you know. You have treated it well? Kept it oiled? Sharpened it? What am I saying? Of course you have. You might be a murderous backstabbing thief, but you know how to look after a knife. You see? Unlike you, Eli doesn’t insult and threaten everyone with every single breath from my mouth. Eli also delivers a compliment where one is deserved. Although, many would agree I have the right to be very pissed off with you, my friend.”

  “What happens now, then? We’ve got soldiers down there and they won’t see a difference between you and I. They’ll kill us both.”

  “But I am thinking you have a plan, didn’t you? Yes, you are a sneaky woman, so I know this is true. And Eli can see you bring with you a very pretty lady. Eli is thinking she must be a big part of this plan. Perhaps someone down there is very close to this lady? Is this your plan? It seems a very simple plan, and one which seldom works. Trust me on this. Better to slit her throat and not carry the baggage. Still. She is here now. And I am thinking, who will want her? Someone who is very important. This is obvious from the way you scowl at Eli. Maybe Eli might buy passage from the sharp ends of those soldiers and their swords if we attempt a rescue of the young lady from the evil elf? Hello there.” He waved to Analia, wriggling his fingers cheerfully. “I can see you are a lady of very fine taste. Perhaps when my good friend and I have finished our disagreement, you can share your name? I think we will be best friends, you and I. Oh, do not look so frightened. Eli is a man, this is true. And a man will often have thoughts about a woman as beautiful as you are. Everyone knows this. But it is also said in every inn across the Deadlands that he is a gentleman. In fact, they say Eli belongs at court, you know. You should remember this when Eli risks his life to save your neck. He would like very much to dress in great finery and have many servants to do his bidding. Did you know, Eli was nearly a Duke? Did you know this? Ah, yes, Lord Sharpe was going to make me a Duke. Think of it! Duke Eli. Duke Eli of Sharpe. How disgusting now it is said out loud. It did not matter, of course. The Emperor’s bitch daughter put an end to those very pleasant dream Do not look so surprised at the word. She really is a bitch, you know…”