Nokai stood before the mirror and admired his handiwork. His skin tone was a perfectly calculated golden brown; it reminded him of a freshly baked loaf of bread. His body showed a musculature consistent with frequent manual labor, rather than regimented exercise. Horns hidden beneath his hair, stunted pseudo-tail stuffed into his trousers.

He practiced his cringe once and then twice, before smiling. The vampire he was going to meet had been a high elf, from what he had been told. If so, he would like that act. High elves always enjoyed others recoiling in fear of them.

His disguise-craft was expertly done, but not impenetrable if closely scrutinized. It was important to remember that a man never closely scrutinized anyone who showed them only what they wished to see, and told them only what they wanted to hear.

The charlatan left the Exalted Crane, his mother’s casino, and turned towards the east. He moved that way until the streets and red lanterns of the entertainment district gradually disappeared, and then became alleyways and hovels.

The place stank.

Not as badly as the dock – which stank of piss and fish – but nearly as bad in a different way. The slums stank of shit and rot. It became so bad, Nokai even longed to return to the smell of sex and stale sweat that lingered over the impoverished edges of the red light.

At first his travel was slow. He kept his head downturned and avoided any physical contact that might disrupt his disguise. The crowds began to thin the further he went, which he took as the Dark One’s blessing.

His disguises and illusions let him appear as a human – or an elf, as the visage he wore this night did – but he was Fiend-touched. Without his make-up and magic, he would be instantly recognized as a mutant. Every moment he walked among men created by the gods he risked detection, and every additional person around him multiplied that risk.

The sorceress asked for him to come to a public well, located in nearly the exact center of the ghettos on the eastside. She had hidden her appearance as an old crone when she arranged this meeting, but one couldn’t hide the telltale signs of illusionary magic from a man skilled in its arts as Nokai.

He hadn’t expected a mortal illusionist, figuring that the vampire would send one of his spawn to meet him. The fact that the bloodsucker held a wizard of some impressive ability as his thrall spoke to a power Nokai had not expected.

That thought left him unnerved as he prepared to walk into the monster’s lair.

“You’re late.” Nokai hadn’t expected the thrall’s voice, and not from so close behind him.

He jumped in surprise and whirled around to face her, funneling his real fear into his performance. The woman’s appearance had changed again, now she appeared as a gawky and awkward teenage girl who looked to be all bones. Her voice, however, remained the same; a playful singsong that defied the horror of her service to an undead thing.

“M- my ap-p-pologizes miss. I was d- d- delayed, by some men.” He replied, in his carefully practiced stutter.

“Muggers no doubt.” She sounded unimpressed. “Do you still have everything you need?”

“Yes m- m- miss.” Nokai produced a scroll in a quivering hand and held it out to her.

“Put that away. You’ll give it to my master once I bring you to him.

She blindfolded him and led him by the hand. He felt frequent attacks of vertigo as they went, and kept losing his balance. He was certain it was a spell that the woman had placed on him, but that didn’t keep her from cursing at him, or him for apologizing abjectly for his clumsiness.

When the blindfold was removed, he was in a small one room apartment. Nokai didn’t know when they had even gone inside. The desiccated corpse of an elf had been stuffed into the corner.

“Gods! W- w- who is that?”

The vampire looked over at the body, then back at Nokai. “The room’s previous tenant. Don’t mind him, he won’t bother us.”

Nokai realized that the vampire’s thrall wasn’t in the room. “Where is the w- w- woman?”

“I hired you for a job, perform it.”

Nokai took out his scroll once more. “Y- y- yes Ser. Would you like me to read it to you?”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I’m paying you, aren’t I?”

Nokai was going to enjoy watching this vampire get his comeuppance. But that would wait. For the moment, he continued to snivel. “We know the box arrived on a ship from Slow-Water, in the Oasis Cities. I have a copy of the manifest here for you to examine at your leisure. Where the item came from before that is a mystery.”

It wasn’t really a mystery. Mother claimed that it had originally come from one of their kind. He wasn’t about to reveal that to a rival in the chase for it though.

Nokai continued. “Agents in the Imperium used the Baron Claudius to transport the thing through the Republic, but it was lost. The Baron himself fled to the Imperium after losing his land to the She-wolf at Shadow-tree. He was killed there months ago.”

“Unlikely to be a coincidence.”

“I c- c- can’t speculate, Ser.” He cleared his throat, and began to read again. “The Baroness Stirba sent riders out after her battle with Claudius, they even violated the territory of Simon Half-man. One party in particular is already confirmed to have returned with prisoners. It’s safe to presume at this point that she has the item you seek.”

Stirba certainly didn’t have it, or his mother would have known. However, there was no point in letting the vampire know that. Let him and the Baroness play with one another while he and his mother secured the prize.

The vampire considered what he had been told. “Perhaps I shall have to pay her a visit and ask. Who else is looking for this thing?”

A great many people, you insipid fool. Nokai struggled not to show his bemusement at how easily he led this ages old creature by the nose.

“Whoever purchased the box in the first place, they seem to be based somewhere in the Imperium. Or, at least, they have some presence there. A group of hunters sent by the Khagan crossed the border weeks ago, supposedly to retrieve it. The notorious pirate Omar the Red has put a bounty of five hundred sovereigns out for anyone who brings it to him. The Madame Kitty, who runs a theater here in the city, has also told her informants to be on the lookout for it.”

“Not that it’ll do her any good. With as many cutthroats out looking for that box as there are, you’d have to be an absolute madman to bring it to Whitegate. Stirba will keep it locked up as far from everyone as possible, until she’s ready to open it.”

“As you say, Ser.”

“Is there anyone else searching for it?”

“Those are all I know of, Ser. But I’m sure there are others.”

The vampire came closer. “Yourself?”

“I am merely an provider of information, Ser.”

“You’ve lost your stutter.”

“It c- c- comes and g- g- goes, Ser.”

Nokai jolted with shock when the vampire grabbed his arm, but he only pressed a coin purse into his hand. “Your fee.”

“My th- th- thanks, Ser.”

“Open the door and let my thrall inside. She’ll send you on your way.”

Everything had gone perfectly. Mother would be so proud.

Nokai opened the door and the sorceress stepped inside with the blindfold. She put it over his eyes, then he felt a sudden sharp pain in his back. Another, and then another.

He was falling and the pain would not stop. The stinging stabs came at him over and over.

When it did finally halt, it was all too late. There was so little life left in him.

“By the Lady! Master, what have I done?!”

“Nothing, my pet. Don’t let it trouble you. I have some more little instructions for you.”

And Nokai died.

“It’s a demon.”

“No such thing.”

“It’s a freak, some kind of deformed human.”

“Or elf.”

“Open your eyes it bears the marks of the Fiend.”

“Gods, it has a... tail.”

The Nightingale allowed all the words the wash over her; she heard little, and listened to less.

Her eyes and her attention were transfixed by the monster before her. The tall well-muscled and tan skinned beast, with horns gently curled like a rams, and tail bearing white patchy fur. She looked into his purple eyes, opened wide in terror. She saw the patch where his fiery hair had been matted with blood, it had been cut back crudely to reveal the horns. A streak of red led from the spot where the head had impacted, all the way down the wall, to where the corpse of the creature now lay.

Nokai, her son.

“How could such a thing enter the city?”

“The gods must be angered to allow such a thing to occur.”

“The city will sponsor sacrifices in all the city’s temples after this.”

“If they don’t, we should throw out the Doge.”

“Aye, and that do nothing council with them.”

Her face was hidden behind a veil, but still, the Nightingale refused to allow any trace of grief to show on her features. She refused to allow the tears that threatened to well up.

The crowd around the body was thick, but her body guards kept them away from her. No one dared to approach the mangled form of her child, and neither could she. But neither could she move away.

Instead, she stood there paralyzed.

She realized this would be the last time she would look upon the blood of her blood. The Vigil would take custody of the body, drag it outside the walls, and burn it. She would never hear his voice again, nor hold him in her arms.

Then she felt the compulsion to laugh, and had to bite her tongue to repress a giggle of hysteria. The wide-eyed cadaver had so little in common with the babe that she recalled holding to her chest.

It seemed almost a moment past, and so easy to believe, that her infant would be waiting for her when she came home. Gurgling at her with the easy smile that came to him from the moment he had been born, and his tail wagging side to side excitedly.

“The Fiend fathered him no doubt.”

“There’s a witch about.”

“How does that happen?”

“Any evil woman offers herself to a dark spirit.”

“Helios preserve us! Why would someone do that?”

“Who’s to say what one would do for power. And aye, the Fiend has plenty of that.”

The Nightingale took one final look at the lifeless form before her. She burned the image into her mind, then turned and walked away.

Her guards cleared the way and she crossed the street to the casino. The placement of the body across from her business could not be a coincidence. The man who had killed her son knew who she was, and meant the murder as a message.

The thought that the murderer was out there, possibly watching her at that very moment, filled her with outrage.

That outrage would be avenged.

The one responsible would be found.

Then destroyed.