*meanwhile, some other shit is happening*
Desmona had followed the rumours of a powerful blood-sucking undead to an empty grave. Its tombstone was unmarked and separated from the rest by a few metres. She could still faintly smell the blood from the soil around. It has to be one of them.
She cast a scrying spell over the area. While most used scrying to see things miles away, Desmona used it to see through time. Faint figures took form around her in the moonlight. Desmona saw the pretty woman emerge from the ground and kill the hapless guard who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The woman then ran away on all fours. Desmona looked around. She could not sense anyone nearby. She took off her cloak and unfurled her wings, wincing as they forcefully erupted from under her skin. She followed the apparition of her target as it ran all the way to a river.
The woman spent a few minutes looking at herself in the water. I did the same too when I came to this world. The woman shocked Desmona when she rolled about in the mud. Is she crazy?
Desmona followed the dirty woman to a cottage just downstream of the river. There were still people living here, thus she couldn’t follow the apparition further. She dispelled the phantom and knocked on the door. She retracted her wings and put on her cloak again.
Desmona knocked on the door sharply. She heard the sound of someone approaching. The door opened a crack just enough for the man inside to get a good look at her.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Greetings.” Desmona put on her most disarming smile. “My name is Desmona, I’m looking for my sister. She’s about my height with green eyes and red hair.”
The door fully opened. Desmona noticed the man was holding an axe. “You must mean Druscilla.” He turned away from Desmona. “Oi! Priscilla! Druscilla’s sister is here.”
A heavyset blond woman came from within the house and the man went back inside. “Oh, hello dear. Wow, you’re pretty just like her. Please, come in, let’s talk over some food.”
“I’m afraid I must decline, miss, but thank you for the offer.”
“I must insist, miss…”
“Desmona, and I must further decline miss.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you, Desmona?”
Dropping the honorifics already, even though we just met. “I have to find my sister, miss.”
“I understand. We found her in a pretty rough state, do you know what happened to her?”
“She fell into a river.”
“Oh?” the woman raised an eyebrow, but Desmona did not elaborate. “Where is it you come from? You both look rather exotic.”
“We come from a land far, far away from here. We were sent on a mission by our master, but we got split up when we reached here. There are several of us, not just Druscilla. They’re all my sisters – and I have to find them as soon as possible. They’re not good on their own, I’m afraid for their safety.” The angels will pick us out one by one if we remain separated. “Please miss, I have to find my sister quickly.”
“Before I answer that, what mission are you on?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”
“Alright then, I’m afraid you’ve missed Druscilla by about a month. We assumed she was a courtesan, and she showed a strong reaction when we mentioned the Capital. By the way, when you last met, was your sister, you know, insane?”
“What? No…That’s news to me.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“That poor thing. We had Penelope take her to the Capital four weeks ago, in fact, she should be back any time soon.”
“I understand, thank you for your time. I hope Druscilla’s okay.”
“Don’t worry, my daughter Penelope is a competent ranger. Nothing’s going to hurt your sister with Penelope around.”
With the things hunting us, I highly doubt that. “I hope so miss, farewell.”
“You’re leaving? But it’s late out! At least stay the night.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
*******************
Morrigan still couldn’t walk more than a few steps on dry land so she had to be carried. Her hands and ankles were still tied, so the Sergeant carried her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. They were entering a walled city that was too colourful for Morrigan’s taste.
“Stop thrashing about. Aren’t you tired already?” Morrigan was desperately trying to bite him. Were it not for the metal bit in her mouth she would have been screaming curses at him. Eventually, she ran out of stamina when they entered the gatehouse.”
“Sergeant Trory!” A voice called out. “Been a while hasn’t it?”
“Indeed it has – now before you ask, no, this not a human. It’s a new type of feral mermaid we caught.” The Sergeant set her down on the floor. She glared at the men in the room. About a dozen guards and all of them flinched when they saw her eyes. The Sergeant laughed softly. “She may be pretty, but she can bite half your face off in one bite – and she seems partial to human flesh.”
“Then why didn’t you just kill her?”
“I couldn’t do that. If this is a new type of mermaid then we should learn all about it then, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“She’s a powerful beast, I’m sure Lady Clearwater will be pleased with this specimen.”
“No doubt she will, maybe she can put her out of her misery afterwards.” I’ll put you out of your misery punk! Her lunge was graceless, and she found herself on the ground, a knee to her back.
“She’s dangerous, don’t let your guard down. She’s killed about sixty people.”
“Sixty??” the guards asked in unison.
“That’s why they went as far as to call me.”
“Amazing…”
“It’s all part of my job. Now is there any news from the City?”
“Nothing really, except that Redclaw – the criminals – are having some in-fighting.”
“Really? Oh my, a lot of people are going to be hurt. Anything else? No? Then if you don’t mind, Captain Bert here will take you to our wagon outside for the inspection.”
“For a man like you Sergeant, that’s unnecessary.”
“I insist – I’m not above the law after all.” He hefted Morrigan over his shoulder again. “Some of my men will escort me to the Library – have a good day gentlemen.”
Morrigan was assaulted by the smells and sounds of the city when they left the gatehouse. She heard some of the guards whispering to each other:
“Sergeant Trory is truly amazing.”
“I really wish I could be like him someday…”
Fanboys. Morrigan found herself rolling her eyes, a vestige from her previous life.
“So, my little mermaid,” Trory said. “How do you like the big city?”
I fucking hate all of you.
*******************
The guard was brought before him. They were in a poorly lit one-room shack in the middle of the slums, far from His Majesty’s eyes and ears. In the middle of the room, seated on the only chair was Kerney ‘Knifey’ Avoy. He was a big man – seven and a half feet tall – who dominated the space. “Tell me everything,” he said to the guardsman in front of him.
“The Captain rounded up some of his best men, told us the Bishop needed something done under the table if you know what I mean. Now the Bishop is a Holy Man, so I was thinking to myself, ‘what could a Holy Man need to do that was so hush hush?’ So I told the Captain that I’m his man, he says ‘well let’s go then.’ We took a wagon and went to the temple, the one on the Eastside, right? And these priests come out with a box – like a big box; coffin size at least. The Captain gets a bit curious and asks to see what’s inside. We load it up and open the lid. What do I see? I see one of the Terry twins, I don’t know which is which but it was definitely one of ‘em. He was lying there, skin pale blue like a ghost with dark veins all over. One of the worst things I ever saw – and I’ve seen some shit. So anyway we took him straight to the Palace’s dungeons, through the back door, of course.”
“Are you absolutely certain it was one of the twins?”
“On my mother’s grave.”
Hmmm. “You can go now, I’ll see to it you are rewarded well.”
The guard grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you, boss.” He whistled as people made room for him to leave.
The Terry twins were some of the most useful capos under Knifey. Their loss would be keenly felt. One of the other Claws did this, but which one. Clan Redclaw was actually an uneasy alliance between the kingpins of the city. There were three of them, called claws. Knifey was the strongest and acted as the group’s chief enforcer. Kissyface was something of a diplomat, who handled the group’s legitimate ventures. As his name suggested, he had a pretty, effeminate face. He doesn’t have the balls for this. It has to be Vice then.
The last of the Claws was a mean piece of work called Vice. He was easily the most ruthless of the three but also the shrewdest. He handled the day to day administration. If he killed the Terry twins then their last moments on earth had to be extremely unpleasant, to put it mildly.
“What do we do boss?” one of the men seated on the floor asked him.
“Vice did this. Let’s go pay the cunt a visit shall we? Ask him all nice and civilized what happened to the Terrys.”
“Okay boss.”
*******************
“So this Knifey guy, he’s top of the food chain right?” Druscilla asked.
“Not quite, they have something of a council to lead them. Knifey is the strongest – physically – however.” Clementine answered.
“What a pain. Maybe I can play them off against each other. And have the victor be loyal to me.”
“You do that Miss Druscilla. Knifey hangs about in the slums to the North, I’m sure you can find him.”
“Would it kill you to be more specific?”
“That is all I know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to run my Library.”