At the southern end of the Paditra district, the Sipputri market throbbed. Nestled in a network of narrow, intricate alleys, but close enough to the river docks, it had become over the decades a convenient place for any healthy citizen seeking merchandise of dubious reputation without having to worry about the city authority. As such, it turned into the perfect playground slum kids. Macha, who once flowered there as any macha with enough talent, knew every corner of it. Every trick to win a good catch and every misstep to lose a hand. Being no thief anymore, and rather a target for them, Macha had spent the morning sauntering around. His goal, to be a victim of a much less experienced macha than he once was.

“Ye not that good, kid,” Macha said while grappling his scrawny forearm. The kid first struggled, but soon enough, after Macha offered him a gold, he calmed down.

Sitting in a forgotten corner Macha inspected the square, looking for the best jobs to pull. Teaching his little, new friend the intricacies of the game.

“That one seems loaded,” the little rascal said.

“Good eye. But look at the brute in the black beret a few steps behind. He’s a ‘second eye’."

The kid widened his eyes, and with a sharp whistle he called two more who joined. In no time, Macha was surrounded by rabbits from his old hole. None old enough to remember him.

As time passed, Macha's lessons caught the attention of more kids and at noon the area’s chief approached, sided by two ‘punchers’ who pretended to be as tough as their little frames allowed. Macha stood, making sure they could see the revolver hanging at the side. At the weapons' sight, the trio froze, though it didn't ease their animosity.

“All ye idiots, go back to work!” the chief said. “We’re very short today.”

“I have promised the guys I’ll pay the daily quota.” Macha said.

The chief chuckled. “Who the hells are you?”

The two ‘punchers’ grinned, although they discreetly raised their punch-blades in sight, to make it clear the fun would not last much longer.

“Easy Big,” said a kid at Macha’s side. “He’s no ‘chainblock’, he’s an old macha. He’s lit!”

“Aye, he saggun!” said another. “And he knows the folds, tell’ya!”

“The chains know the folds as well, you idiot,” One one of the punchers spited on the ground. “and he too old to be macha! Why ye so dense Freckles?”

“Shut up, Fat!”

Before the fight could come to blows, Big, the chief, intervened. “Silence all of ya! Damn… Ye like kids! I don’t care who he’s or he wants. It’s a dangerous place, old man. Take your fancy and get out of our playground. Or else.”

“Wait,” the other puncher said in a hurry. “He promised quota!”

“Good one, Brows,” Big said, making his bodyguard puff like a balloon. “Ye give us two hundred pieces for the day. And fifty more for a safe passage out.”

Macha pulled up his sleeves and crossed his arms. The golden plates of his forearm shone towards the kids' faces. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll give you a hundred. That’s way more than a day's work. I’m not losing any money for passage, but I’ll give you a hundred more for information.”

“We know nothing.”

“The ‘bellows’ sing in the morning. So do the ‘sirens’ and the ‘swings’. I don't want to know anything that will get you into trouble with the ‘hole-head’. Just tell me what's new with the squids.”

After a petit-comite with his sidemen, Big spoke. “Do you know the strange troops in armour? They have landed more of those. But many of the iron ships didn't stay. Still, the port is flooded with squid flags. I heard many Tampra guards are relocating to the meadows’ fortress. Whatever is happening, these weird-looking soldiers are taking the lead in our city. Soon on this quarter too.”

Macha tossed a bag to the chief and gave another to the macha he had first met, then took one step forward.

“Nay, nay.” Big said. “Pay the passage, too.”

A raspy cough spooked the trio. Big turned, tense as timber, so did Round and Brows although those two fidgeted to check the surroundings, hands hiding blades as nervous as their gazes. Behind them, Macha’s guards stood with the confidence the kids lacked.

“He said no money for the passage. Didn’t you hear?” Sandree said, pulling up her long, wide sleeve to show a small double barrel flintlock.

She had opted for an outfit exactly like Uri's instead of her usual silk dresses. Loose-fitting trousers and blouse with a sash matching her brownish leather boots. Too tight around the waist to hide weapons there, but loose in other parts enough to hide many. And surprisingly for a woman of her delicacy, she knew how to use very well the ones she had hidden.

Uri, as usual, wore his two swords, two blades that to those who didn't know could pass as wooden quarterstaffs, so to be sure the inexperienced children wouldn't make a mistake, she grabbed one of them and unsheathed it a hand's length away to check the iron.

Big let out another chuckle, a little more reserved this time. "You need two girls to help you? How pathetic."

Brows leaned in to whisper and what he said turned Big’s face as pale as his. Macha wasn't sure why they stepped away without saying more, but whether the reason was the Krait's daughter's presence or the Lady of Cards, he actually didn't care. Either or both, their reaction put a smile on his face as he walked away. "Take care of those kids, Big boss, or we'll come to see you again!"

Macha walked through the crowds as if he was the new market’s chief and the girls were his 'Punchers'. It was all a farce, of course. He couldn’t be more troubled. The city filled at every moment with troops of squids, and one of the most infamous assassins in the world was on his tail.

“You seem shaken. What’s new?” Sandree said playfully.

“Not much. Vega has already sent ships south. We have to leave immediately. The Icto is fast, hopefully we can warn the Blue Force in time.” Macha said, lowering his tone to say the next. “I wonder what has gone wrong. Damn Robert and his stupid plan.”

When they entered the alley of the Gupa, Uri took the lead, a few steps forward, while Sandree moved closer, allowing him to feel her warmth with his living arm. “I can’t wait to see that ship disappear under the water. Is it really possible to do such things?.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“I said ‘no more lies’, didn't I? And why are you so surprised about disappearing? Is not a difficult trick, your girl here does it all the time. She left me to my own fate over there. Machas are dangerous, you know?”

Uri spoke without turning. “I was close enough to smell you.”

“I shower more often these days. You know, so as not to displease your nose.” Macha said, grimacing to Uri’s sudden turn into another alley.

“The docks are not this way. If you are planning to betray and murder me, just don't. It's dirty here. How about we go back to the inn and you invite me to a poisoned drink? Then I raise my leg in the comfort of a bed.”

“Hey,” Sandree said, pretending to be offended. “She may be immune, but how about me?”

Macha suppressed a laugh. “You are involved too? Treason! I'm so disappointed!”

Uri halted, turned and reprised her strides towards a little square with a huge wall at the farthest side. “My father was immune,” She said while checking the surroundings. “Poison makes me very sick. As sick as your lovebird chatter.”

They stopped before the walls of the towering building. Without windows, the mass of stacked boulders only had a large arched doorway as an opening. Though the opened, reinforced door, a hot, foul-smelling breeze put Macha’s stomach upside down. “And talking about noses, mine is melting. Why are we here, Uri? The Icto is ready. Vega gets closer, and Papiku is…I’m sure he’s right in that corner waiting for us!”

“Some prisoners from the Blue were freed a while ago and hidden in a countryside's safehouse. They must leave with us.”

“They are better in that safehouse, leave them there. And since when do you both care about the Blue people?”

“One of them is Ced.” Sandree said.

“He’s alive?” Macha’s tongue knot, a frozen chill locking all his muscles and all his words. “For-for sure, we wait all we need to wait! How did you find him? What happened … When…”

Sandree smiled, giving Macha’s shoulder a squeeze. “Answers later. There is someone else Uri wants you to meet now. Follow her. I’ll wait here.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Uri said. “Pinch your nose or hold your breath.”

Reluctant, Sandree and Macha entered the premises. Inside the entry hall, poorly lit and barely livable, a team of ten guards greet them with nods and waves. None dared to check on them properly. Many were busy playing cards at a corner’s table, while the rest lay around, some using straw piles as a mattress, others a less appealing filth as cushions.

The bowels of the old jail were even worse than the entrance. Long abandoned and left to decay, it had become a tribing nest for vermin and a canvas for rotting woods, moldy rocks and rusty metals. As Uri pushed open the half-broken door, the creaking sound spooked the guard behind. The man, sweaty and oozing, took a deep breath of what little fresh air came with the visit.

"Coin for five minutes," he said in a nasty voice, eyes darting over the three of them. "Like the other times. But one per person."

“I’ll stay here.This is the best I can do,” Sandree said. “If Papiku enters, I’ll hear the others scream and I’ll run to you.”

Uri grimaced and gave two coins at the guard.

“You sure?” Macha asked Sandree.

Sandree turned to the guard, who didn't dare meet her gaze. Sight to the ground, he moved away, grumbling and mumbling nonsense.

From the end of the corridor, Uri called. The further down the spiral staircase they went, the darker it became, and the less timid rats and roaches turned. Unable to bear it any longer, Macha covered his face with a napkin. "If you make me go down any further, I'll faint."

“Look at you,” Uri said. “Now you really act like a fancy, rich boy.”

To his curse, she chuckled slightly. The cell block they found themselves in was slightly wider and airy, yet it stunk way worse. At both sides, huge large cells marked with corroded metal bars contain dozens of prisoners crammed over mud and shit. The little light they lived with came from small holes no bigger than a head and so high in the wall that if someone ventured to climb the sticky walls to reach them, the possible fall was fatal.

Few prisoners, the ones not on the verge of death or despair, acknowledge their presence, but none react much. Few groans, few sobs. “Damn. Surja dungeons are bad, but not as bad as this. I pity these men,” Macha said.

“This place is reserved for special guests. Scum the Tampra soldiers hate the most. Mostly Geckos.” Uri said.

“Oh, I'll take it back, then.”

“Kiddo!” From the last of the cells, two scrawny arms waved from between the bars, chains hanging and tingling. “Oh Uri. you found him and brought him. How nice of you!”

Uri stood before the cell, defiant. Then she let out an inaudible whisper and beckoned her head towards Macha.

If it weren't for his unmistakable hair, the prisoner would have been impossible to recognize. It was hard to tell if his clothes or his skin were dirtier. In the midst of a smeared face, two white eyes fixed on Macha as soon as he arrived. They were tired, sad, and yet full of excitement.

"I'm the only one who receives visitors." Broccoli sniffed and rinsed with a grimy sleeve. "Look at you! I see you well, kiddo!"

“Tampra soldiers caught him on the beaches of Yose.” Uri said. “His men betrayed and marooned him. When I found him, I requested a transfer here.”

Broccoli shrugged and leaned over the bars. “I turned too soft, they said. What a bunch of rats! How long has it been, Uri? Not that I'm complaining. We eat maggots daily and shit is a comfortable bed. But I have to say, the neighbors are noisy. Luckily they come and go pretty fast, which makes me wonder: Why have I been here for so long?”

"Because I want you to enjoy this beautiful place a bit longer," Uri said while stepping away. "I'll let you two talk, don't get any closer or shoot him. Your safety is my burden, his fate my gift.”

As Uri put distance, Broccoli let out a mischievous hiss. “She talks pretty, but like me little, ye’know? Every Time she visits, she weaves words beautifully while I mumble and rumble. I talk about you a lot, ye’know? Damn, you look the finest! Those clothes, and… and you're in shape! What happened to your hand? Is it because of me?"

Macha raised his metal arm and wiggled his fingers. "Well, Black Rock stuff. You sent me there, so I guess you're partly to blame."

“Damn, I forgot about that.” Broccoli leaned more, until his face stuck between the bars. “I suppose you won't use it to give a hand to an old…to me. I know the Rock is nasty, but I swear I did my best to keep you alive. And I’m Gecko no more. I could be useful.”

“I'm with Uri now. She wants you dead, one way or another.”

Broccoli sighed and dragged his feet to the cell’s end. He crouched in a corner, back against the mold, feet squeezing the sludge below. “I understand, yet I prefer her sword. I’ve done bad things, maes Macha. But no man deserves this.”

“I'll speak to her. see if she can end this punishment.”

Broccoli rushed back to the front, a loud chunk echoing through the cells as his wrist chain hit the bars. “Really? Ye do dat for me? I-I’ll help you well, Maes. I can valet you. Or fight, I just need a couple of pounds to fit again. I won't escape, I swear! And if Uri wants to cut my head, she can do as she pleases anytime.”

“I’ll try to get you out of here, that’s it. You are right, no man deserves this but you have done terrible things and you will pay for them.” Macha wished to leave but his legs didn’t obey. “Do you remember Otti? The young ranger who came to the plantation raid? The one you killed in front of me? Do you remember what you said?”

The Gecko sighed. Then, spat at the floor. “Don't. Neither the man. Killed many idiots, said many idiotic things.”

“You said ‘stab him through the lungs, so they can’t scream.’”

Whether from the helplessness of seeing his schemes fail or the genuine sorrow of regretting his past, Brock dragged his feet back to the cell’s shadows, hiding the shame of his moistened eyes.

With legs now willing to run away as fast as they could, Macha raised his voice, a bitter rage chewing from his guts to his throat. “Do you know who else can't scream? Hanged men!”