Novels2Search

53. The Blackbird's Nest (I)

-Two Weeks Earlier-

Marius

When they had come to stand before the Don himself, they'd known the Everloft's own minions would be the least of their worries.

The Yok'ra called Nils had guided them through the Oasis-city they called Akris in earnest, and through the raging desert storms that lashed the flimsy roofs of the settlement's sandstone dwellings, Marius tried to pick out anything that could be considered helpful. Instead, all he found were cloaked figures who betrayed no skin but that small patch that allowed them sight. Their eyes told him nothing - not even an Appraisal would help him out. It seems the people of this city of alleys and walls was just as illusive as the shifting sands it was built on.

Some appeared from their huts as the carriage moved along the road, running after them, or whispering to their friends about the new arrivals (the word 'meat' may have been tossed around a few times). But once they came to what looked like the center of town - the tranquil oasis itself - they found that the children's feet stopped dead on the precipice. As the carriage now followed the long, winding side of the crystal-clear waters, it did so alone, flanked by nothing but boarded up windows and other decimated hovels.

The red-sun's rays glimmered on the surface of the great pool, and for a moment Marius felt himself sink back from his trepidation into the realm of blissful, idiot tranquility. The kind of dumb resignation to the end of life that all brainless morons said came upon them at their final moments.

But, like everything else, he let the moment pass. He never was one for thinking too much about the future. Instead, his eyes picked the luxury of the present.

And what they were seeing at the apex of the Oasis, looming large above the whole sand-smacked city, was certainly sparking his magpie instincts.

It was a palace. Something of a very different beast from the ghastly grey keeps of cold stone that dominated Averix above. This one was made of gold.

Real gold.

Pure. Refined. Radiant and sparkling against the desert sun. Five spires shot forth from its domed roof and ended in needles that pierced the few artificial clouds that floated above. Its courtyard was resplendent with trimmed hedgerows of vibrant thistles, roses, and sunflowers, all blooming with life in complete contrast to the barren landscape that surrounded the entire structure.

"Hey, Yelena?" Marius whispered. "You think this Don guy's compensating for something or what?"

She looked blankly at him, and he instantly regretted even trying. His charm had limits, it seemed. And this was no ordinary girl.

Of that, he was now damned sure.

"Like what ye see?" Nils chuckled, spilling his toxic alcohol as he swung back round to face his prisoners. "This here's Caer Akris - palace of the Shifting Sands, stronghold of the First Layer!"

Yelena perked up at the name, and began studying the spires intently.

Marius divided his eyes between them both - she was desperate to find something familiar, and the other one - Nils - he was savoring her every look.

"Oh yeah," he coughed through another swig of his bottle. "Just like yer precious Caer Argent up there, this place was built by yer pretty little Lord Jael and his band of merry men."

"Don't speak his name," Yelena snapped, and Marius braced himself on instinct. Whatever that thing was lying behind her eyes, he didn't like the idea of it coming out to play again.

Nils, however, seemed quite giddy at her anger.

"Oh, you think I'd speak ill of dear old Jael?" he laughed, leaning forward and licking his dry lips. "Jael, who fucked off below and left this place fer us ta guard? Jael, who fucking abandoned us all and went off on his bullshit quest fer glory? Jael, noble, honorable, good man Jael, who left us all ta die up here after we helped him on his way?"

He spat at one shining lilly pad in the pools the carriage was now riding beside.

"Ya think I bear a grudge against old, honorable Jael? Nah, little missy, I ain't pissed at him. See, I was one of the smart ones. When the Don was ready ta make his takeover, I stood behind him. The rest of the people here - the one's like you - we killed 'em all dead. That, or fucked 'em bloody. Till they couldn't live no more. Then we took this place fer our own."

He chuckled mirthlessly with the boys next to him in the front seat, and together they toasted their victory, savoring the girl's look of pain.

"A lie," she said. Then again, "A lie."

Nils' smile only grew.

"Aye, girl," he grinned, stressing every syllable. "We were all fucking Argents once. Probably before you were. So, in a way, we're more loyal ta yer precious Jael's principles than you are."

"Shut up!" she cried, and tried rising. Only then did Marius' hand fly to restrain her, and he tried to communicate through his eyes what his mouth could not. He hoped she could see in his face what she had to know.

This isn't worth it. He's trying to rile you up. For some reason, that's exactly what he wants.

He didn't know if he got through to her, but she did sit back down, turn away, and bury her face in her knees. For his part, Nils did the same, offering nothing more than another spit and a snarl under his breath that might have been "...fucking Argents..." before the carriage rocked to a stop and he hopped off with his troops.

"End of the line, sweethearts," he chuckled.

The more things chance, the more they stay the same, Marius thought.

They had stopped at a small stables just outside the palace gates proper - just a frivolous in luxury as the exterior surroundings. As they were led off the back, collared and chained, Marius noticed the only notable novel feature: they kept no horses here. Instead, they favored the great dung beetles that had pulled the carriage out of Duskwood. Their bug - Edna - was currently being taken back to her brethren to a pit in the ground and informed that it was 'feeding time'. Yet, she was being boisterous, fighting against those taking her by the reigns and pulling her along, corrosive acid dripping from her black fangs. With a groan of frustration Nils then produced the thin leaden rod that he kept fastened to the back of his belt, waved it in front of the creature, and instantly placated her. She hobbled along without another step out of line.

As he was pulled along towards the palace gates, Marius chanced a quick Appraisal now that he had a good look at her great bulbous back:

Morphology: Desert Bull-Beetle

HP: 80/80

Status: Dominated

80? Now, that was nothing to sneeze at. And from the speed it had traveled at, coupled with the strength it had shown as it broke through the cavern walls of Duskwood, it was clearly no pushover.

What it was - clearly - was controlled. 'Dominated' sounded appropriate - it was as though that little stick at Nils' back had hypnotized the thing. At least, Marius thought with some reassurance, it looked like it only worked on those beetles, and not on humans.

If that wasn't the case, they'd have employed it against him and the Argent girl by now.

Marius kept this all to himself as they shuffled along, pulled like captive dogs towards the interior of this gilded gold cage.

And when the door closed behind him, a very different kind of value blazed into glorious life before Marius' wandering eyes.

Because if the outside was a palace to match Averix's most splendid castles, the inside was a whorehouse that would've brought tears to Amarata's old eyes.

Everywhere was filled with noxious vapors that assailed the nostrils with every step one took. Marius eventually had to narrow his eyes to avoid the sting that struck at his sockets. Moving around this cloud of narcotics, or milling about casually on the painted floors, were men and women of all races enjoying the pleasures of the flesh - reclining on top of each other, stewing in their own filth and sweat, smiling absently to them as they passed through or ignoring them altogether. Nils waved to a few and received some small tributes of coin - possibly for services rendered to these hedonists - as he guided the two of them through the pleasure palace.

Yelena's sneer could not be more exaggerated as she was forced to step over the fifth barely conscious body in her path. But Marius? He was keeping an open mind.

"This is a den of filth," Yelena coughed through the incense cloud.

"Hey, hey" Marius said, level-toned. "Let's give it a chance."

She didn't even register his words. "There's no way Lord Argent would have allowed this. It's against everything our order stands for."

"Stuffiness?" Marius asked.

She shot him a look of fury.

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"Discipline."

"Right, right," he replied. "Because you're so good at keeping your emotions in check, aren't you?"

Before she could respond Nils yanked them both forward towards an arched, stain-glass door that they hadn't even seen in front of them. His three boys took their positions behind Marius and Yelena, drew their daggers from their waists, and stuck them painfully between their ribs.

"Now, look," Nils said, taking a liberal breath of tained air. "This here's the Don's audience room yer about ta enter. Ye'll be on yer best behavior unless ye want shivved. He's got questions fer ya. Ye'll answer them. And then we'll see what's ta be done with ye."

Marius gulped but kept his smile beaming. He thought the girl would pipe up and take a shot at the Yok'ra from the look on her face. But she said nothing.

Even so, he had to admit that there was something he liked about that look. She had some power in her. Power and determination. Two traits that could get someone either a whole lotta gold or a whole lotta death. He'd have to play his cards right. He'd have to negotiate.

"Look," he murmured to her as Nils flew the doors open. "Let me do the talking, alright? I can get us outta this."

She didn't even look at him.

"Are you asking me to trust you again?"

He sniggered. "I'm asking you to do nothing. Least of all trust me."

When they were led inside the great chamber it became clear what this place was: the palace throne room. Repurposed and refocused: the flags that lined the walls were long since discarded. Now, various images of debauched sex acts had been scorched into the walls and stained glass windows, and the floors were now lined with velvet pillows leading towards the throne itself. A retinue of Tigran guards, all female, lined the walls armed with halberds and armor that looked as solid and polished as the golden spires outside. Their collective stares lighted on the two prisoners, and they backed away from the cushioned path towards their lord - the creature that sat upon the Golden Throne at the end of the room, beneath a banner bearing the image of a silver haired man with his eyes scratched out and mouth ripped apart. Yelena gasped to see it, but Marius' eyes lingered on it for only a disinterested second. He was much more focused on the hulking being that sat in the chair itself, nothing but his beak poking through his translucent, dark hood. Two feathered fingers rested themselves not on the throne's armrests, but on the heads of two scantily clad human girls kneeling beside him, their eyes totally unblinking, even as his fingers played across them.

Only now, up close, did Marius realize what he was:

A Jilae.

A fucking old Jilae, of all things.

They were led to the feet of the throne and brought to their knees before him. Nils stood to attention and gave a little nod, and then the whole farce began in earnest:

"Nils" the crow-man said, the name dripping from his beak like poison. "What treasures have you found this old bird?"

A voice like razor blades, Marius thought with a shiver. Every syllable was a scythe slicing across the insides of his eyeballs. If this was the so-called Don, his voice inspired more fear than his aging form did.

"Two surfaces who broke through at Dusky," Nils replied. "This one," he gestured to Marius. "A two-bit thief, calls himself Marius of Corbeck. Good talker, shit fighter."

Fair summary, Marius thought. You should add 'Expert in brevity" to your stat list, Nils old boy.

"And this one," he said as he gestured to Yelena. "She's the one I told ya about. The Guardian. An Argent from above."

At this the Jilae's hood was thrown back, and two silvered eyes shone out from his dark face. The feathers that framed his features were grey dun - dead as ash - and he stretched his long neck to examine Yelena while she stared right back at him from the floor, her rage barely restrained.

It was only then that Marius was able to get a good look at him, and observe the way he cocked his head around Yelena like he was trying to place her. A closer look at the bird's two silvered eyes confirmed his suspicions:

He was blind.

"My, my," he said. "A surface Argent working with a mere thief. How the standards of Jael's minions have fallen since my time. You have, I suppose, a name, Miss Argent?"

"Yelena," she spat.

Marius tried an Appraisal while he was thus distracted. But he was getting nowhere. All he could get was the same damn pointless result:

Race: Jilae

Useless thing! But maybe with a little more...

Attempt persuasion?

There we go. Okay, now wait...

"Charmed," the Don replied, reclining back in his throne, drumming his fingers into the skull of the red-headed girl at his left knee. "You're sure she's a Guardian?"

"Got the right skillset," Nils said. He'd shifted to the left of his master, and was currently engaged in oogling the breasts of the red-headed human. "And there's something else."

"Do tell."

"She's Voidtouched."

Now something happened to the Don. It would be imperceptible to the casual observer, but Marius could see, even looking into those old blind eyes, that a sense of cautious excitement seemed to jump-start his bones.

"She's told you this?"

"Don," Nils smiled, overcome suddenly with the same excitement. "She's shown us."

The Don leaned back again, studying the girl and clicking his beak reflectively.

"I see nothing in her."

"I'm telling ya, Don Revok, she's got a Voidspawn in 'er! The boys saw it too. It took the four of us ta take her down. No level one Guardian could fuck us up like that."

"Unless you're getting rusty, Nils."

Nils bowed his head and let his Don continue his inspection.

'What do you think, Knox?" the Don suddenly asked the wall behind him.

Only then did Marius make out the cloaked, hunchbacked form of another human in the room - a man with a face irreparably scarred, and deep-set eyes that looked hollowed-out from within. He inclined his head a fraction of an inch as he traced the figure of Yelena, and said nothing to his Lord.

"My my," The Don chuckled. "It's a rare day indeed when even my darling Knox is lost for words."

For some reason this caused a nervous wave of sniggers to sweep the room. Yet, as each of the laughing servants met the eyes of the scarred man, they immediately fell back into an almost timid silence.

"Tell me, Argent Yelena," he said. "Does my loyal Nils speak true? Do you have a cheeky little guest having a slumber party in your head?"

Before she even said a word, Marius broke in:

"My Don," he began. "I can speak for My Lady. You see, I was sent her with her as a guide - one that could convey her through the shadows of The Everloft's First Layer towards the old settlement of her people. She is a gift, my Don. A gift from the surface Argents to you - one that shall repair the gulf that exists betwee-"

Suddenly, Marius felt his lips retract inwards - a sensation similar to biting on a sour lemon, except that now, no matter how hard he tried, he literally couldn't say a word.

"My my, my," the bird cackled, cocking his head at Marius as he began thrashing on the ground like a fish. "I do so detest the yipping tongues of humans," he said, patting the head of one of his girls. "Do give us a moment, little man. Your betters are talking."

Marius thrashed for dear life, clawing at his mouth while Yelena looked on, abject horror painted on her face. Laughter spilled from the mouths of the bird-fiend's servants.

Whatever he looked like right now, it couldn't be pretty.

"Now," the Don continued. "I assume you will answer my question, my dear little Argent? Or are you singularly gifted in the art of war, and not of the tongue?"

Amdist the sniggers of his minions, Yelena answered him:

"Who are you to demand an answer from me?"

Not the right way, girl! Marius yelped within his mind. He could do nothing to dislodge his sunken mouth, and at each and every struggle it seemed to only worsen his condition. It felt like he was about to digest his own teeth. But, there on the palace floor, he was nothing more than a bad joke right now, floundering away. He could use this time. With any luck, he could use this time to learn something.

So while the Don reeled back and gave a hearty laugh with his comrades, he placed a hand on his lips and focused:

Appraisal: Success

Incantation: Vow of Silence

GLANCE type: WIND

Duration: 60secs/lvl

So that was it! The old bastard had quite literally caught his tongue. It told him, at least, the most useful muscle in his body would be his again (depending on the old fucker's level) but also something else: this guy was a Glancer, straight up.

A wind type?

"The girl has some spunk, does she?" the Don was busy chuckling. "Maybe we shall have some use for her, after all."

Nils nodded, his forked tongue playing across his mouth as he inspected Yelena's inert body.

"Let it not be said that Don Revok lacks mercy," the old buzzard chirruped, stroking his human girls. "You both desire to live, do you not?"

Marius shook his head violently, only once or twice trying to catch Yelena's eyes.

He didn't notice her close her eyes and bow her head, or the way she muttered something silent under her breath.

"Then we may have some use for you in our ranks," the Don continued. "Kneel before me and pledge yourselves to my service. Name me your new Proctor, and I shall allow you to eek out the rest of your days among us. A charitable offer, would you not agree?"

As Marius immediately threw himself before the bird, practically kissing the floor, he didn't look back to even consider the girl's answer.

Its impossible to hear something that makes no damn sense.

"No."

GIRL, PLEASE! Marius' eyes cried.

He looked up to see her meeting the old, ash-feathered Don's blind eyes and holding them. And for a moment, it looked like the old bird really could see her, standing before him, straight backed and tall.

"I have a Proctor, and I have a Lord," she said. "I am bound to them for life."

Please, for the love of Amarata, Yelena, please don't be one of those-

"I am an Argent. I cannot serve two lords."

Ugh.

The Don's forked tongue played across his blackened beak again.

"You would reject all this?" he asked. "And spit on the hospitality of your host? The First Layer of the Everloft is mine, Argent. Both it and all its inhabitants belong to me."

He leaned forward again, his feathers shaking on his long neck - standing to attention, each one of them like a barbed thorn ready to pierce her.

"You will serve me, girl," he said. "Or you will perish here."

Still, she was as unwavering as stone. When she came right back at him, it was without anger.

"You have much wealth here," she replied. "You have riches most warriors would die for. Perhaps someone else would accept the life you offer. But I cannot. My quest lies beyond this. Beyond you. And if you stand against me, I will strike you down."

OH, COME ON!

The Don reclined back, gripping the heads of his two slaves and sinking his claws into their skulls till their craniums bled. Then, in a single instant, all of the assembly started laughing. Even some of the Tigran guards started to utter little chuckles under their breaths, and yet, still, some of their number raised their weapons to stand at the ready.

"It's a rare thing indeed," the Don said. "A pale-blooded Firvak girl comes to the Everloft. The mantle of Guardian is thrust upon her. She may be Voidtouched, and, to top it all off, she follows the teachings of that old sly silver fox to the T. Then, what does this little treasure do but reject my hand even as I so graciously offer it to her?"

Marius took note of his whole demeanor during this musing. For a moment, it looked like his spirit - or whatever - had left his body. A strange feeling of absence came over him - and Nils noticed it, too, for he turned to his boss and was about to reach an arm towards him when he suddenly jerked his head up and gave another spittle-filled click of his beak.

"It's a shame, really," he said through a gnarled, dead smile. "To have to be rough with such a precious little flower."

In the next moment, Yelena was pushed to the ground and restrained by three of Nils' assassins, while a spotted Tigran guard grabbed her by her hair and yanked her back to look into the eyes of the Don. The iron collar was fitted back round her neck and tied tight, and all the while, through her wails of pain, the Don watched, his beak clicking away.

"Knox," he said. "You may yet have a new toy to play with."

Once again he was addressing the silent human barely visible behind his throne. And, once again, the man did little more than give an affirmative twitch in response.

"Yes," he said to his minions as she fought against them. "A most delicious instrument. True to her word, bound to her oaths. In truth, I respect it, my children. I even admire it. It is the same foolish curse that we all knew ourselves before the truth came upon us. We underwent our change, through blood and tears, and survived. It is time for you, Argent Yelena, to do the same."

She was dragged by her feet out of the palace room, still thrashing around and beating her head against her captors, her eyes flying around till finally they settled on Marius' grief-stricken face.

His lips were now unsealed. She could see it - he knew she could.

And still, he said nothing.

"You will give me what I want, Argent," the black bird said before she was dragged out of sight. "Or you will know more of pain than you ever wanted to know."

And like clockwork he turned his withered old beak towards his next victim, the tip aimed at Marius' sweat-covered neck.

"As for you, my dear little thief," he smiled. "I have other plans."