Krazzek

“She's really starting to creep me out.”

“Leave her alone,” Dyryl said wearily. “We need to figure out what to do about this mess.”

Illeth was snuggling up to her Troodons. She'd been doing that for the past two days. It was weird to see the assassin show so much affection to anything, and even weirder to see the troodons show it right back. Krazzek had to admit they'd made for safe camping in the forest though, once you got used to being surrounded by the creepy pale skinned dinosaurs.

“Let's go to the islands,” he said.

“What?” Dyryl raised an eyebrow.

“Let's go to the islands,” Krazzek repeated. “I'm a thief, you've got your ranger skills. Let’s run away together and let the whole empire rot.”

“And what about our friends? You'd just leave them behind?”

“I don't know that we've got much choice. We don't know where Hallek ended up after the blast. Or Verris for that matter, if we're stretching the word friend. Shylldra's still captured and doesn't want to be rescued. And Norak...”

“Is here.” Norak stepped out of the bushes. His body was a single massive bruise. He'd been hit by a lot of rubble when the prison exploded.

“Maybe you should still be lying down...” Krazzek said.

“I'll be fine,” Norak said. “I have to move. To go back to Birdfang. By now, the tribes will have met. And we know what they will have decided.”

“War,” Dyryl said. “Mother wanted so badly for their not to be another war. And the idea of one actually happening sounded so ridiculous. Until Lekarik...”

“Until Lekarik,” Norak nodded. “If there's going to be a war then Norak of Birdfang has to fight. But...Dyryl, Daughter of Maukra, doesn't.”

She looked up at him sharply.

“There's only one person left with a chance of preventing this,” Norak said. “I don't know what her chances are, but a friend of Birdfang could still calm the war before it happens. If she can stop Lekarik, or control him, I don't know. But I doubt she can do it alone, with no one she can trust.”

“It's worse than that,” Krazzek said. “She's like Hallek, she's a trusting trustworthy type. She needs people like me and Dyryl, who she can trust to do the untrustworthy stuff.”

“Not sure that's a compliment,” Dyryl said, “but you're actually interested in doing this?”

“Well I am out of a job,” Krazzek sighed. “And since terrible decisions are the order of the day I don't want to feel left out.”

“I will come as well,” Illeth said from the branches above.

“See? Everyone's getting in on the party!”

“I'm more concerned with how she got up there without me noticing,” Dyryl glared.

“I am sneaky as well. And neither of you have killed as much as I have. I can slit the throats that need slitting.”

“Great, we have a plan!” Krazzek clapped his hands. “It's a terrible plan, but we have one. Now how do we get into the city without being arrested again? Because I'm pretty sure we're wanted criminals.”

“Relax,” Norak clapped him on the shoulder. “I do not think Lekarik ever saw your faces for more than a moment. And even if he did, we are all so minor in this whole affair—at least from the viewpoint of scheming city nobles—that I doubt they've given you all a second thought. Good luck, friends. I go to join the Birdfang.”

There are people in the world who enjoy being right. Who absolutely LIVE for the experience. Pessimists are not immune to this, the worst of them taking a smug joy in the world's misery merely because they predicted it. Krazzek was not one of these people. He valued comfort, peace, the occasional non-dangerous challenge to his skills as a lock picking thief. As a pessimist he in fact hated being right.

Four hours later he considered, as a pessimist, that was probably why he was right so often.

“I told you!” he yelled. “I told you!”

“Yes,” Dyryl said. “You told me.”

“I told you!” Krazzek said again. Some might have called repeating that unnecessary, but Krazzek was not one of them. He might not enjoy being right, but all the same he was going to make sure everybody admitted when he was. “I told you!”

“But Norak was right!” Dyryl complained. “We're not important enough to come after at this point!”

“They obviously do not think so,” Illeth hissed, glancing back at the twelve city guardsmen chasing them down the alleyway. “We could kill them easily.”

“There would just be more,” Dyryl said. “Besides these guards are just doing their jobs, they're innocent.”

“No one trying to kill me is innocent,” Illeth said conversationally.

“I bet it was Jajess,” Krazzek said. “He probably reported us as Veriss's generals or something.”

“You know Illeth you could disappear here,” Dyryl said. “Dart up a wall or something. They can't have your description, you're a secret.”

“We are pack,” Illeth said, the same way someone might say the sky was blue or the ocean was deep.

Krazzek found himself touched. He hadn't had a lot of personal collection in his life. He hadn't grown up particularly poor or rich, just one of fifteen children in a house too small. Parental attention had been spread thin. And then aside from the complicated...whatever was going on with Dyryl he'd never gotten to close to anyone else either. And yet when a mutant troodon assassin woman called him pack he found himself weirdly touched.

The chase had wandered into a series of long, tight alleyways that were more like cracks between the buildings than streets. There were no stalls here, and only a few small windows peering out into the gloomy, claustrophobic paths. Even the beggars seemed to have avoided the place.

“This is good,” Dyryl said. “They can run side by side in here, but they won't have room to fight. They'll have to come at us one at a time.

“Are we fighting now?” Krazzek said.

“I don't see any choice,” Dyryl shrugged. “We can't seem to lose them, and I--”

“Hey! Hey over here!”

The voice was the old and scratchy bellow of a deep voiced man who'd spent a long life smoking. The man them over from the side alley was the least trustworthy looking person Krazzek ever seen, which after a life of thievery was something of an accomplishment. He was short and chubby, wearing some kind of drab grayish furs that didn't cover his head at all. The hair on his head was a gray mass that framed his pudgy cheeks, which didn't seem to fit with his tiny sparkling eyes or his long, pointed nose. In one gloved hand he held an unlit lantern.

“This way, Krazzek!” the man shouted again. “I know a way around!”

“Who's your friend?” Dyryl asked.

“No idea,” Krazzek said. “But we're out of options.”

“I do not trust this,” Illeth said, but she came with them as he led them down the side alley and around a corner. He motioned them to hide and it was madness, Krazzek knew it was madness, they would check here first thing. But somehow they didn't, and the guards kept running past, and they were safe. For now.

“Ahhh that takes me back,” the old man said. “Been a while since I had so much fun! Come on, let's get you three where you need to go.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Before that,” Krazzek said. “Who in all the hells are you?”

“Don't you recognize me?” the old man asked, his eyes sparkling. And all of a sudden Krazzek was sure he did. The old man suddenly seemed so familiar Krazzek was ashamed he couldn't place the face. What was more, he trusted him. Somewhere from that vague memory came the absolute certainty that the old man was—alright, definitely untrustworthy, definitely a thief and a sneak and a liar—but not someone who'd stab him in the back.

“Yeah,” Krazzek said. “Yeah, I...I'm sorry, did we used to know each other really well once? I'm afraid I can't remember your name.”

“Oh it doesn't matter,” the man laughed. “I'm just an old thief who likes to look after the young ones. Come on.”

They followed him down the alleyway again, taking a dizzying set of turns before they reached an old stone door set in a wall. The whole place had a forgotten look about it, an old look. Krazzek thought it must be one of the oldest places in the city.

It almost felt older than the city...

“In here,” the old man said, pushing open the door.

“Where does that take us?” Dyryl asked.

“Someplace without any guards, soldiers, agents of the emperor, or anyone who wants to harm you.”

“I think...” Krazzek shook his head. “I think we can trust him. With this at least. I'm sorry, I still don't recall your name...”

“Haven't said it today. Good luck!”

And then there was a moment of confusion, that soft mental landing that comes with having lost the thread of a conversation, and he was gone. Neither of them could remember him leaving, or which way he'd gone.

“Strange,” Illeth said. “He didn't smell like a threat, but...”

“What?” Dyryl asked.

“He didn't smell human.” She shook her head. “Maybe I was being confused by his furs.”

“I hate this,” Dyryl said.

“Stop it. You're starting to talk like me,” Krazzek leaned into the tunnel. “Looks like a straight shot, let's see where it goes. Unless either of you have a better idea?”

Dyryl obviously wanted one but she didn't have it handy, so the three of them made their way down the tunnel until it came to a dead end wall. Krazzek had expected something like that, it was why he'd taken the lead, so he felt around until he found the seam of the hidden door he'd been sure was there and pushed it open.

The screaming began almost immediately.

They stumbled down a step and were up to their calves in steaming water. It poured from above them, splashing and stinging in their eyes. When they stepped out from underneath it naked women scattered, grasping for towels or buckets or sponges to cover their bodies with.

“It's a bathhouse,” Dyryl said.

“Yes,” Krazzek nodded.

“Stop looking.”

“What? OW!Okay okay I didn't get to pick where we came out.”

“Specifically,” Illeth said, oblivious to the rampant nudity surrounding her, “it is the bath house in the Temple of Maia.”

Women wearing face masks and leather armor burst through the door at the far end of the room, brandishing curved swords.

“I knew he was a liar!” Dyryl said. “He said there wouldn't be any guards!”

Shylldra

Shylldra knelt in prayer before the altar of Maia. She'd come here almost every day for the past few weeks because it was the one place Lekarik didn't try to suffocate her with guards. She was close, so close, to being able to work against him, but she'd hit a wall. Hit an ax, really. It all came down to Milkaamek's ax. As a weapon it was dangerous enough, but as a symbol it was practically invincible. It meant power, it meant authority, and it meant legitimate rule, however incompetent, petty, and paranoid. Mostly petty, but paranoid was rapidly closing the gap and looking to overtake. So she came to the temple, every day, to pray to Maia. To the maiasaur, that she would care for everyone suffering under Lekarik's rule. To the protoceretops, that she would protect them all from harm.

And today she prayed for Hallek. She didn't have the details, no one did. But the whole city saw the explosion, and the rumor was that rebels had broken into the prison and, in attempting to rescue some of their comrades, had broken an ancient infusion. Shylldra had no doubt this was true. The rumors were maddeningly quiet about what had happened next. Dyryl, Norak, and Krazzek were wanted criminals, their posters up all over the city, but what about Hallek? What about Norak?

She was terrified for her friends. She was horrified that there was no word about Hallek. And she felt guilty that the destruction of Balrok Prison was probably the best thing that had happened to her since she got back to the capital.

She still couldn't find a way to pray to the acrocanthosaur. The idea of blood vengeance, even against Lekarik, scraped against the edges of her soul. She just couldn't reconcile it in her mind with Maia's other two aspects, or with her own nature. But it was fresh in the minds of most people in the city, especially as Lekarik's decrees grew more and more intrusive and his hand picked guard patrols felt more and more like an occupying army. The whispers said the destruction of Balrok was a condemnation from the gods of Lekarik's rule. And for those less religious it was a sign that there were rebels, that Lekarik's control wasn't complete. It was a chink the emperor's armor, the first crack in the ax's handle.

But the ax was still there, unseating Lekarik still felt impossible, and there was still no news of Hallek.

What did you want me to do, Maia? She asked. You sent me out away from the city with no instructions but to run. I know, I know. You only ever send guidance, not orders, and it's up to me to make it work out alright. But just a little more direction would have been nice. You said I wasn't strong enough, but I don't feel any stronger and I don't actually know what the hells that's supposed to mean in the first place. It could have been anything Maia, anything at all. A destination. A time frame. A landmark. SOMETHING to tell me I was on the track you needed me to be on!

Oh sweet gods I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know, it all makes sense from your side. But I'm not on your side. I'm on this side, down here in the mud, and it would be nice to have something to give me the tiniest bit of hope.

“Excuse me, your ladyship,” a voice dripping with disdain said from behind her. “But there is a matter here that can only be dealt with by someone as illustrious as yourself.”

Shylldra sighed and turned away from the altar to face Mother Yevin. She might almost have rather been up against the giganotosaur again. That could have just killed her. Mother Yevin had never liked her, but since she'd come back to the city the High Mother had been absolutely poisonous.

“How can I be of service to Maia, Mother Yevin?” Shylldra asked with a respectful bow.

“I don't need your mockery or your half assed piety,” Mother Yevin snorted.

“I wasn't—”

“There are intruders,” Mother Yevin snapped. “They came in through a secret door in the bathouse. They claim they were looking for you, and that you can vouch for them.”

“I suppose I'd better meet them then,” Shylldra said.

“They're right this way,” Mother Yevin sniffed. She led Shylldra out into the hall where a quartet of Maia's Claws stood with their swords pressed against the necks of three kneeling figures. Two of them were Dyryl and Krazzek. She didn't recognize the third, but if they were with Dyryl and Krazzek chances were they were an ally. “Do you know them? They look remarkably like a pair of wanted criminalswhose posters are up everywhere. Shall I call the city guards?”

“They do look similar don't they?” Shylldra said, fighting down a smile. “But I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding. Could I have an empty toom to talk to them in?”

“Of course,” Mother Yevin said. “Anything for the emperor's betrothed. Your microraptor is resting in here.”

The guards released her friends and Mother Yevin showed Shylldra into a room with fur covered chairs and the ubiquitous murals of Maia's aspects on the walls. T'challi was curled up asleep in one of the chairs. She cooed when Shylldra picked her up, but went back to sleep once she had a warm lap to rest in.

“What happened?” Shylldra asked.

“It's a long story,” Dyryl said. “Settle in.”

It was not, it turned out, actually that long a story. Not when you consider how much had been screwed up in such a short length of time. At the end of it, the part Shylldra was having the hardest time with was having the Emperor's Claw sitting across from her in a chair, not hostile in the slightest.

“Lekarik is my enemy,” Illeth shrugged, flexing her scaled and taloned hands. “And so is this Dalluth. He is up to something. Something horrible.”

“I know,” Shylldra said. “I only met him once or twice since I got here, but even I could tell that. I was planning on putting a stop to whatever he's doing anyway, if I can just find a way to get around the emperor. Having people I can trust here is a big help. The first thing we need to do is...”

The door creaked open and an intiate stuck her head in.

“Lady Shylldra,” the initiate said. “Mother Gaath said to tell you your--I mean, the emperor is coming.”

“Thank you,” Shylldra said. The initiate bowed and closed the door. “Well, we've got to work fast now. He'll know your face Illeth, and if not he'll know your claws. You need a robe or something. Is there a trunk in the corner? There usually is in rooms like this, get an initiate’s robe on.”

“What about us?” Krazzek asked.

“Get behind my chair like servants,” Shylldra said. “Because that's officially what you are.”

They scrambled for their places. Lekarik entered a few moments later, he must have been right outiside the temple door when Mother Gaath sent warning. He swaggered into the room with an enormous grin on his face. Dyryl, Krazzek, and Illeth—her face and hands now hidden under the robe—bowed. Shylldra didn't bother to get up. T'challi hissed at the emperor from Shylldra's lap.

“Hello my beloved!” Lekarik said. “I heard about your little incident with the intruders. Oh look, two wanted criminals! Let me take care of that for you.”

He reached for the ax slung on his back. Shylldra felt Dyryl tense, but she extended a calming hand.

“Enough of that Lekarik,” Shylldra said. “You know as well as I do that warrant is garbage. They were in a bad situation and they defended themselves. The empress is entitled to a few personal retainers, and I've chosen them. I've also asked for an acolyte to help me with spiritual matters.”

“I've noticed,” Lekarik said, not turning around to look at Illeth. “Well what the hells, I'm in such a good mood today I think I'll let you keep your pets.”

“How gracious,” Shylldra said.

“Although if that one behind me doesn't take a step backwards and stop eyeing my throat I'm going to twist her head off,” Lekarik said. Illeth jerked behind him and took a step backwards. Shylldra hadn't even noticed her inching closer behind Lekarik's back. “I can sense both bloodlust and troodons very easily these days. So the Emperor's Claw survived the explosion of Balrok did she? Well she can't hurt me now, you can keep her too if you want. Besides, I am in such a very good mood. Aren't you going to ask me why?”

“Why?” Shylldra asked suspiciously.

“Because someone else survived the explosion of Balrok too,” Lekarik's grin was wide enough to take the top of his head off now. “And in just a few minutes he's going to die horribly. In a much more entertaining way than getting blown up. If you hurry you might just get there in time to see the blood.”