Pain wracked through Kasar’s mind as he struggled to stand. Vorza held him down. Rend channeled Green through him.

  Asheevi’s voice hummed in his head like a distant echo. His head spun still and the agony that coursed through him did not help clear his senses. Soon he understood the words.

  “This is why in the real world, when someone tells you to back down, you do.” Her words were spider-silk, soft, but iron in tandem, and Kasar felt another desire to compete. However the healing had not ended, so the pain persisted, and he was not in fighting shape.

  Ostrik’s voice bellowed. “Rend, why waste it on him?”

  “I am a healer,” said Rend’s voice. “It is what I do.”

  “He’s our enemy.”

  “Not yet.”

  Vorza stood before Ostrik to ensure no one would interfere.

  “Vorza, ensure to leash your Devil next time,” said Asheevi. “I will not be so lenient again.”

  ***

  Kasar felt Vorza lift him to his feet. Ostrik and his crew, including Rend, had already fanned out to search for this missing person. Kasar would have wanted to ask who the prisoner was. Not much of a chance now. Asheevi was gone too.

  Kasar groaned, pain lancing through his side.

  “It still hurts?” asked Vorza.

  “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “Then that Rend isn’t much of a healer.”

  “I owe him my life.”

  Vorza gave a curt nod. “Odd lad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re a stupid lad.”

  Kasar rolled his eyes and found a seat. The patrons had continued their daily routines along with the servers and bartenders. Asheevi’s presence had not forced a single finger of law to intervene. She was the law in this part of town.

  “Sorry.”

  “Be sorry for yourself,” snapped Vorza. “Words can and will get you killed.”

  “Still have to say them, though,” Kasar said through a wince disguised as a grin.

  “You’ll be dead before dawn.”

  “Been hearing that a lot lately.”

  “Be worth the ire you spit, and be ready for the steel it brings.”

  “I have steel.”

  “Smart ass. You didn’t hear the crossbowmen line the outskirts?”

  Kasar shook his head. He’d been too focused on the discussion.

  “You really thought a crime lord would prance in unguarded.”

  Kasar couldn’t even argue that one.

  “Think wide and deep. Not puddles, or holes. Or you’ll end up dead in one.”

  “I understand.”

  “Not yet. This was just a slap on the wrist.”

  “Sharp slap.”

  “People don’t get second chances. Sometimes, Devils do. Especially ones that an employer desires.”

  “Why did she make it a competition?” asked Kasar.

  “To incentivize us to try harder. I believe she tasked us with a job we’ll hesitate to complete.” He cleared his throat. “You will hesitate to complete. She can’t have that. She intends us to succeed as we have our skills. But Ostrik is the backup.”

  “And Ostrik’s involvement makes it so I don’t have time to hesitate.”

  “Yes, and she’d rather have a dead Devil or two, than a non compliant one.”

  “That’s me,” chuckled Kasar.

  “Better hope she doesn’t see that.”

  “She already did.”

  “You’re a dog to her that was treated harshly after shitting the bed,” he said, giving Kasar a dry chuckle and mussing his hair. “And you’re a shitter alright.”

  “Way to make me feel compliant,” groaned Kasar, stretching to test his limits.

  “Ire and steel. You have the former, none of the latter. Not to her.”

  “So might is right?”

  “Gold is right here, lad.”

  “For now.”

  ***

  Cryppe had immediately begun the pursuit of Dunarik when the ships began burning. The venture led him across the trenches of the city, chasing, tracking, stumbling, and retracking. Finally, dawn had arrived over the slanted roofs and smoky chimneys, when Cryppe cornered Dunarik in an isolated shack.

  He’d smelled the cigar smoke he liked to use. Blue did wonders for his sense of smells. Perhaps almost as potent as the Devils’ senses.

  Dunarik rushed at him the moment he opened the gate inside. Cryppe had been channeling what meager sum of Mind Source he had left to cast Blue. He dodged just in time. His Mind Source depleted soon after. All that tracking and listening had worn him out. A throbbing ache pounded at his head. No more Blue lest he find himself passed out or dying from a stroke.

  Dunarik snarled and rushed again. Cryppe didn’t have his greatsword, but his short sword sufficed for such a cramped space, anyways. Steel clashed and the two men sparred. Well, Cryppe sparred, but Dunarik aimed to kill. Cryppe sweeped the captain’s legs from under him and placed his edge on the captain's throat. A kick sent his scimitar clattering across the floor.

  “Yield,” Cryppe said softly.

  “Yield?” snapped Dunarik, almost insulted. “Fucking yield?”

  “I adhere to a law you can’t comprehend.”

  “Comprehend my arse.”

  “I follow the law that faces judgment of these lands, not my own. Not the sword’s, either. So answer for your crimes.”

  “Pansy.”

  “Did you burn those ships?”

  “You know I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Blasted crew takes off after a sea goddess toy. Then abandons him too? They don’t deserve to breathe. Unless it’s flames or water.”

  “You failed to kill them all.”

  “What does it matter? They are stuck here unless they obey some crime lord or other.”

  “They may be looking for you.”

  Dunarik’s grin startled Cryppe. “I’m already a dead man. But you’re an ignorant one.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Let me go and you’ll find out. But of course you can’t trust me as much as I can’t trust anyone.” Dunarik began laughing.

  “I vow I will allow you to escape if you tell me what news makes me ignorant.” He dug his blade in to apply pressure. Enough to sting. “Don’t play me on the words. Impress me.”

  “So very unorthodox of you. All that of justice and law, but now you decide to play around the blurred lines.”

  “I follow the blade’s law. This is not the blade is it?” bluffed Cryppe with a thin smile.

  “You’re just as rotten as everyone else.”

  “Depends on who you ask. Now speak.”

  Dunarik cleared his throat and his eyes flitted to the blade.

  Cryppe relieved some of the pressure.

  “They are looking for a man named Sigvali. He is a Blood Forger.”

  “Vrodian?”

  “Of course.”

  Blood Forgers were rare. Not to mention highly illegal unless strictly licensed by the Crimson Coven.

  “This one got himself captured, either way,” continued Dunarik.

  “And now Asheevi wants him to forge something?” asked Cryppe.

  “Aye.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I burned a few extra ships on his word. He said he’d offer me some aid.”

  “What aid?”

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  “I speak now for gold, for I have my freedom. Unless you’re breaking your vows to me.”

  Cryppe hucked the sack of gold to Dunarik’s face, bloodying his nose.

  “You bastard!”

  “Speak, now, or I commit murder. The sword may forsake me, but your breath will forsake you.”

  “You’re mad!”

  “I am deadly curious.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Your gamble.”

  “Damn it!” Dunarik spat out some red and cleared his throat. “He offered me a way off this island. He said he served as a privateer for some time. He knows his way around Vrodian vessels. He also knows some Vrodian traders. Given enough time and patience, he will find himself a transport and he’d take me along. He made a similar oath.” Dunarik scoffed at the recent barrage of honor and vows. “I trust he’ll keep it.”

  “You better hope. But I am curious as to how a crime lord would have convinced a Vrodian to give up such intelligence as Blood Forging.”

  “We spoke for a time before I burned the ships. He was in the brig, and I was snooping about. He said they planned to hoard up any Vrodians they could capture or enslave. They would kill them before his eyes. A hundred for every day he refused to comply.”

  “Barbaric.”

  “And futile,” said Dunarik. “Sigvali is a patriot and he believes those souls would have died well. He would never cave. Not to mention if any one of them escaped, word would spread and that wouldn’t be good for trade. There’s a reason even the crime lords rarely meddle with Blood Forging. Vrodia is a terrible enemy to make.”

  “Now he’s free,” said Cryppe.

  “And in hiding. That’s the man they would be looking for. And he’s looking for allies or a way out. Or at least, a way to get the word out. That would give him leverage.”

  “Asheevi would be looking for him. Not Ostrik or anyone else.”

  “Unless she’s got the smarts to hire them. I did many jobs for her in the past. She would know exactly who your Devil friends are and see their worth.”

  “My friends do not negotiate with criminals.”

  “Ah, but she negotiates with anyone. She will offer them a reward. For the Devils, no doubt, a way out. For Ostrik’s crew? Power, money, or maybe long term employment should they want to stay.”

  “She’ll offer him a ship and a crew,” said Cryppe. “I know Ostrik and I know his ambitions.”

  “So there it is. They are hunting me out of spite, perhaps. It is Sigvali you want to find.”

  “Or protect.”

  “Your wish.”

  “And you know where he is?” asked Cryppe.

  “Not a damn clue. He scurried off as soon as he escaped.”

  Cryppe let Dunarik return to his feet. The captain snatched the pouch of gold and dashed away leaving Cryppe to ponder his next move. In his hurry he didn’t realize it was actually just full of coppers. Cryppe could be uncouth when he wanted to be.

  ***

  “We need to find Cryppe,” said Kasar.

  “And Dunarik?” asked Vorza. The two strode down the streets of the city, ears piqued for any sign of Sigvali. Vorza had told Kasar what Asheevi had told them about the task. Some Vrodian with a unique ability they wanted.

  Vorza didn’t enjoy the prospect of turning over a countrymen of his with potentially harmful secrets. He played along for now, but Kasar could sense his conflict.

  “To hell with Dunarik.”

  “Thank goodness,” said Vorza. “And why Cryppe?”

  “He will want to help us and can join me on my voyage west.”

  “Fair enough. He doesn’t get along with Ostrik’s crew.”

  “Exactly. Now we just need to find him, and perhaps find some clues as to where Sigvali would have run off to.”

  “We can start at the shipwrecks. Find out which ship he was in. Track him from there.”

  “Interrogate people, maybe?” Kasar didn’t like the idea, but he figured he’d have to try.

  “It’ll cost us money we don’t have. Or worse. Favors.”

  “Let’s get to the docks and figure it out from there.”

  ***

  At the docks, Kasar and Vorza ran into Cryppe.

  “Where have you been?” asked Kasar. He shared the run-in with Asheevi and what had happened.

  Cryppe updated them on his news from Dunarik.

  Vorza spat after his story. “Such skills should not leave my country. Even I do not know of it.”

  “And even he doesn’t want to share,” said Cryppe. “Or so Dunarik thinks.”

  “As he shouldn’t. Then again, hundreds of our own will die because of it.”

  “Now what do we do?” asked Kasar. “We find Sigvali, we get to leave. He holds out against torture and deaths of innocents, or he gives up crucial information I bet you Asheevi will use against more innocents.”

  “Nothing is ever simple,” scoffed Vorza.

  “We could help him escape.”

  “And hitch a ride with him?”

  “If he can smuggle all of us.”

  Cryppe and Vorza thought hard, and Kasar wished he knew how probable his plan was. He knew nothing of smuggling cargo overseas. Much less live cargo. They would have Dunarik with them too.

  Cryppe spoke, but slowly. “If there’s a way we could accomplish both, I’d take it. Turn over Sigvali, let Dunarik escape, and have innocent lives not be lost.”

  “He’d have to give up what he knows,” said Vorza. He sounded as if he himself wouldn’t give it up no matter how many lives perished.

  “What if he didn’t?” asked Cryppe. “What if we turned him in and found a way to stall.”

  Vorza’s eyes widened. “This is genius. If I make it back home, I can let my people know of this.”

  “Could they do something?”

  “The Blood Maidens could.”

  “What are they again?” asked Kasar.

  “Death.”

  ***

  Kasar, Vorza, and Cryppe did not find any clues, but were encouraged by their plan. All they had to do now was find Sigvali before Ostrik and his band.

  “Helping the devils are we?” asked Ostrik when Kasar and his two friends entered the tavern.

  Cryppe shot Ostrik a sour look.

  Kasulta hissed. “Knew we should have left you to die.”

  “My gratitude lies with you still,” said Cryppe, bowing. It was genuine too.

  Vorza found a corner spot over a circular table. The bar keeper spotted them and marched over. He tossed Cryppe’s blade to him.

  “I’m done with you. No more time here. Take your stupid blade and be gone.”

  Cryppe lifted the sheathed blade and placed it at his hip again.

  The bar keeper left before any of them could respond.

  Ostrik and his crew snickered at them from the counter.

  “Bastard,” snorted Vorza.

  “How come it didn’t burn him again?” asked Kasar.

  “The Blade knew it wasn’t being stolen,” answered Cryppe, patting the hilt affectionately.

  Kasar did not inquire more, but he had his doubts.

  “What do you think they’ve found?” asked Vorza.

  “Why do you ask?” asked Kasar.

  “They look too chipper to me.”

  Kasar and Vorza listened in on their conversation. They found they couldn’t.

  “Damn it,” Vorza spat. “Someone’s casting Blue specifically to mask their words.

  “Blue, you say?” asked Kasar.

  Kasar and Vorza grinned at each other. They both sensed around for Blue magic. All Chroma left trails a devil could sniff out. Just because the Blue was meant to mask their voices, did not mean it could mask itself.

  “Upstairs,” said Kasar, a second before Vorza opened his mouth.

  “Well done, lad.”

  “It’s the bard,” said Cryppe. “Go easy on him. He’s just a Blue caster and musician. Granted just as insane as the others.”

  “I won’t kill him,” reasoned Kasar.

  “So you’re going?” asked Vorza.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I’ll stay down here and keep an ear out for what they say.”

  “Shall I go with you?” asked Cryppe. “I can reason with him.”

  “Sure,” said Kasar.

  ***

  Kasar and Cryppe had told the bartender they were going to empty their room. Begrudgingly, he accepted and the two strolled upstairs.

  “Be careful with Dumai,” said Cryppe.

  “He is already channeling, though,” said Kasar, sensing the flow of the Blue spell like ribbons. “How can he channel more?”

  “He is crafty. He can multitask. Not to mention, we would be a larger concern than Vorza being able to eavesdrop or not.”

  “Fair enough.”

  They found the door that led to Dumai’s location. Kasar wondered how he’d been in the vicinity of this man for the entire voyage and he’d only seen him a handful of times, if even.

  They broke in and found Dumai staggering back in fright. The bard was a comely man unlike the unruly lot he traveled with. A flushed face marred by shock and then anger next glared at them. He drew a dagger.

  Cryppe held his hands in the air. Kasar resisted the urge to dive forward.

  “We’re not here to fight,” said Cryppe.

  “You broke into my room!” snapped Dumai. His voice was melodic, and Kasar wondered if he’d even slept last night. The bed seemed very appealing to him.

  “Cut it out,” said Cryppe.

  Dumai stuck his tongue out.

  “Kasar broke in.” Cryppe shot Kasar a look. “I was going to knock.”

  “Sorry,” said Kasar.

  “Well get out!”

  “Just listen,” snapped Cryppe. “Stop casting on us. All of us.”

  “Why? So you can eavesdrop?”

  “Dumai, why do you even follow Ostrik?”

  “Not your concern. Now leave or I get defensive.”

  “You are defensive,” said Kasar.

  “I’m done casting on you. I’m casting on my friends. Their security.”

  Kasar couldn’t argue with that and neither could Cryppe.

  “Now leave. Final warning.”

  Kasar and Cryppe glanced at each other. How else would they find information about where? At another standstill. Kasar felt a helplessness gnaw at his stomach. What if he were to strongarm Dumai? What if a sudden burst of motion distracted him? Even if it did, what were the chances in that brief moment Vorza would hear anything relevant? For all they knew, Ostrik and his band were joking about how foolish Kasar was for thinking this would work.

  “Kasar?” asked Cryppe.

  “Let’s go,” he said, face darkening, teeth gritted.

  “But-”

  “Come on.”

  They left Dumai and when they returned downstairs, the bar keeper marched over with a scowl.

  “Well?” he barked. “When are you leaving?”

  “Need some more time,” said Cryppe and the two began arguing. Kasar spotted Vorza and shook his head when their gaze matched.

  Vorza sighed and rubbed his brow. Ostrik’s crew were laughing and clinking their mugs. Perhaps Dumai was relaying all that had happened from above at the same time. Ostrik’s eyes crossed over Kasar’s and the scumbag actually winked.

  “That’s enough!” roared the bar keeper. “If you don’t leave now, I’m putting a bounty on your heads.”

  The patrons grew silent. Kasar and Vorza exchanged a glance before turning to see the great many eyes on Cryppe. Cryppe’s shoulders slumped. He nodded.

  “Finally,” snapped the bar keeper.

  Ostrik laughed again, his voice coming through to Kasar and Vorza. So they were done with their discussion.

  “Hey bar keeper,” Kasulta hissed. “What say you give up some gold and I’ll bloody them up for you.” Kasulta cackled and glared at Kasar. “I am sure we’d have a fun go at it.”

  Kasar didn’t take the bait.

  “Matter’s settled,” said the bar keeper. “Isn’t it?”

  Cryppe nodded. The patrons almost seemed upset that no bounty began.

  “Then get lost!”

  Kasar, Vorza, and Cryppe snatched their belongings of which there were few and left the tavern.

  “Now what?” asked Cryppe.

  Just as he said that, Ostrik and his crew strode out the gates. Dumai was not with them. Probably still in his room, cooped up away from the outside world as usual.

  Kasar watched them march off. Ostrik with his grin and laughter, Kasulta shooting a jeer at Kasar as they left, and Rend with only a small smile at some joke previously made.

  “We follow them,” said Kasar.