For Want of a Fiend (8 page)

“You and everyone else,” Starbride mumbled, but she hugged her all the same. “I’ll be fine, Dawn.”

“Just keep in mind that if you’re not fine, your mother will hold me responsible.”

Starbride cringed. “I have to tell Katya she’s coming.”

“You haven’t told her yet?”

“See you later.” Starbride kissed Dawnmother’s cheek and then nearly ran back to Freddie. “Ready when you are.”

*

The smell of Dockland was almost a living thing, creeping through the darkened streets along with the fog and a general feeling of unease. The feeling and the smell seemed to coalesce the closer Starbride and the Order came to the Warrens.

They’d left the horses outside of Dockland. The animals would have made them too conspicuous and probably would have been stolen besides. They strode quickly through the city. By the time they reached the entrance to the poorest district, Starbride was tempted to pull her hood around and hook it over her nose and chin, just to keep out the stench.

They stopped in front of a darkened storefront. Katya’s lips brushed Starbride’s ear as she whispered, “We wait here. Remember what I said.”

Starbride shuddered both from the contact and the ominous tone. To Katya, though, she winked, feigned confidence, and did her best to disguise her excitement. Brutal and Katya stepped to the storefront where they would stay until Pennynail and Starbride came back.

Pennynail took her arm, and then they were off through the short alleyway that separated the Warrens from the rest of Dockland. The denizens had dealt with the poorest area of their city by forgetting it existed, building apartments up to the edge of it in an effort to wall it off.

At the exit to the alley, a dark shadow detached itself from an entire nest of them near the back of an apartment building. “Toll,” it said gruffly.

Pennynail slammed an open palm into the shadow’s face. It collapsed, cursing. There was a scuff of feet on stone, but Pennynail drew one of his long knives. Silence enveloped them again. No other shadows came forth. Pennynail took Starbride’s arm and hustled her into the small square that followed the alley, and then across into a side street.

It all happened so quickly. Starbride had just shaken off her stupor enough to slip a hand into her satchel. She let out a breath and wondered when in the exchange she’d forgotten to breathe. Pennynail looked back and forth down the alley and then pushed his mask up over his head. He folded it as small as he could and stuffed it in the back of his leather outfit.

Starbride gaped at him in the gloom from the square’s only streetlamp. He moved close to her ear. “I don’t often use it when they’re not around,” he said, inclining his head in the direction of the Order. “Or here in Dockland where no one cares.”

Starbride shrugged. Whatever made them less noticeable, she supposed. They hurried through the streets and angled for the building that was supposedly holding Maia. No one else accosted them. Starbride guessed that the demand for a toll was only levied on those who weren’t known in the Warrens. Or maybe Freddie’s punch was some kind of code signifying that he had every right to be there.

Many shadowy figures flitted past them, going about whatever business suited them. Starbride found the place quieter than any city street she’d ever encountered. Maybe everyone in the Warrens had learned the value of silence.

Well, that was until one poor fellow careened down the street, half-dressed and raving about the Fiends who lived in his closet. When he turned a corner, his cries cut off in one harsh scream. With a shudder, Starbride hurried on. Even if she and Freddie managed to save the poor wretch from whatever had caught him, what would they do with him? The thought comforted her a little, even though she knew his cries would haunt her dreams.

Their target building was as dark as any of the others. The windows were shuttered, save for a few at the top whose shutters had broken off. Occasionally, the wink of a candle or lamp would appear through the smashed planks of wood, but they disappeared as quickly as they came.

Starbride drew a pyramid from her satchel, one that would detect other pyramids in use. She held it up for Freddie to see and then inclined her head at the building. He nodded. Any pyradistés would know she was there if she detected them, but this would tell them if Roland was using pyramids or if he had any guarding nearby.

Starbride focused and fell into the pyramid easily. Her vision lost all color, but sharpened into black and white, letting her see more clearly. She looked for the glow of an active pyramid on the outside of the building. When she saw none, she closed her eyes and reached with her pyradisté’s senses. She couldn’t sense the emanations of another pyramid anywhere in the vicinity. She put the pyramid back in her satchel and shook her head.

Freddie gestured to a small alcove, half hidden by a barrel, in a nearby street. After a quick look to make sure the hiding spot was unoccupied, they ducked behind it.

“I need to go in and have a look around,” he whispered.

Starbride’s insides curled at the idea of being alone, but she’d promised Katya she wouldn’t go inside. She dug a pyramid out of her satchel. “Take this. All you need to do is smash it, and it will create a flash bomb. Break it near the windows, and I’ll know you’re in trouble.”

“And then what? You’ll run for the others, or you’ll fly to my rescue?”

Starbride rolled her eyes. “I’ll start weaving your shroud.” She gave him a little push. He didn’t run toward the obvious door at the front, but became lost in the shadows on the side of the building. No doubt he’d climb to some forgotten window.

Starbride leaned back on her heels and tried to find some way to be comfortable without actually sitting down. How long would her missions be like this? How long until Katya trusted her to care for herself? Besides making sure the building was clear of active pyramids, what good was she actually doing?

She supposed clearing the pyramids might be enough. Maybe that was all Crowe had done, most of the time. Somehow, Starbride doubted that. He would have stuck to Freddie’s side.

Starbride was better at climbing and sneaking now. She had the damned leather outfit, no matter that Freddie had made fun of it. How long would she have to wait to feel like a full member of the team?

It wasn’t trust, she tried to tell herself. It was worry. Katya loved her and wanted to keep her safe. Starbride’s frown only deepened. She could keep herself safe. She and Freddie could watch each other’s backs like the other members of the team did.

As angry as she was, Starbride knew she’d have to tread carefully with Katya. So many things had happened to disrupt Katya’s life lately. Starbride was used to such disruptions, had been getting used to them ever since she’d learned she was coming to Farraday. Or, she told herself, maybe she was just better suited to dealing with hardship than Katya. Years of feasting did not teach one to suffer famine.

Starbride tried to force the smug thought away and focus on the building. She looked for any signs of trouble, any sign that Freddie needed help, or that Maia was actually within. After all, the best remedy to calm Katya’s nerves would be a series of successful missions, and this one was a wonderful place to start.

Time passed, slowly approaching the deadline. Starbride shifted again and again, fighting cramps and the urge to just plant her rear in the dirt. She yawned and rubbed her arms. As warm as the leather was, it couldn’t block out the chill. She switched knees for perhaps the tenth time, but the brief rest she gave each leg wasn’t helping anymore. No one had come or gone from the shuttered building, and she’d seen the same brief flickers of candlelight from the top stories. She’d watched each window carefully, and then the door and the sides of the building, waiting for Freddie’s return.

The idea that she might have to leave him made her stomach ache. She’d been so certain he would arrive on time. Worry made her forget about her cramping legs as she pulled them under her in a crouch. She’d have to leave Freddie to his fate while she sought help.

Or she could go in after him. No, that was pure folly. If a master of sneaking could get caught, she certainly would, and there was no telling whether a well-placed pyramid could get both of them out. She wanted to be trusted. Now she had to prove that.

Starbride scratched an arrow in the dirt, pointing back to the entrance of the Warrens. She’d retrace her steps quickly and keep a pyramid out. If she ran afoul of trouble, she’d detonate a fire pyramid. That would bring Katya running and surprise any attackers long enough to hold them off. She stood in the shadows and stretched, ready to run, when she caught a glimpse of light from an alley across the way, two figures moving around the other side of the building. The wan streetlight reflected from a long metal object in the larger one’s fist.

Starbride squinted and hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was: Brutal’s oversized mace. She nearly called out, certain of it as her mind played it over, as the two figures disappeared around the side of the building. Katya—reckless, lovesick fool that she was—had rewritten the plan and come in after them before they were overdue.

“Darkstrong take the woman,” Starbride muttered. They were going to have words over this one, Katya’s inability to cope be damned. Starbride gave one more quick glance at the dark streets around her and then crept toward where Katya and Brutal had gone, doing her best to stay in the shadows.

“We should have given them more time,” Brutal rumbled at Katya’s back.

Katya resisted the urge to snarl at him. She’d heard him the first hundred times. The fact remained that Pennynail and Starbride were almost overdue. She’d be damned before she’d leave Starbride in danger any longer than necessary. Starbride had obviously gone into the building with Pennynail, and they’d gotten in over their heads. Fiend or no Fiend, Katya was going to get them out.

Brutal pulled on her shoulder. “At least let me go in first,” he said before they reached the back door. “No sense in both of us getting our heads sliced off in a trap.”

She let him take the lead, though she wanted to dart around him and run through the building. Memories of Starbride tied to a table, the threat of having her fingers cut off, loomed in Katya’s mind. And Starbride had been captured twice, held as part of an elaborate trap concocted by Roland and his henchmen, Darren and Cassius. Only Roland had protected Starbride from Darren, then. Katya doubted Roland would care to keep Starbride in one piece now.

Katya tried to shake the thoughts, but they kept rising, even as she and Brutal ducked through the door into blackness. If Roland hurt Starbride, Katya would burn the building down; she’d burn the Warrens, maybe all of Dockland.

No, a voice inside her said, without the Fiend, she wouldn’t be able to do anything.

Katya did snarl then, but at this nagging lack of confidence she couldn’t seem to shake. Brutal lit a candle and held it high. A narrow staircase started up before them and turned sharply at a landing before continuing upward. A long, dark hallway sat beside it and continued into the building, into blackness, and another hallway struck off to the right. To their left was a door, shut and bolted as if to keep something inside rather than out.

Katya stooped. The floor was filthy and tracked by many feet. She lamented the fact that they’d left Averie just outside Dockland with their horses. Maybe she could make sense of the mess of footprints. Whoever said the building had been abandoned was much mistaken. Listening hard, Katya heard the sound of muted footsteps above them.

She pulled on Brutal’s arm until he lowered his ear. “We start at the top and work our way down.”

He moved toward the staircase. They stayed close to the wall and tried to avoid the creaks and groans that would plague the middle of the stairs, but they couldn’t escape them all. Anyone listening from above would know they were coming.

They passed the second floor, looked down it briefly, but saw no one. Halfway to the third floor, a flash of brilliant light came from above, a flash bomb. Katya rushed past Brutal and took the stairs two at a time. When she reached the top, she ran down the hallway, headed toward a spot of candlelight coming from one of the rooms.

Inside the room, a woman leaned out a window, looking outward as if tracking something’s fall. A cloak obscured her form, but the hood was down, and very pale hair cascaded down her back.

“Maia?” Katya breathed. She stepped forward.

A scuff behind her made her turn and bring her rapier up.

The sight of Darren almost made her pause. His arm moved, and she tried to leap out of the way of whatever he threw at her, but it slammed into the side of her head and brought stars to her eyes.

She staggered, swung wildly, and heard him laugh. “Funny how we never get the one we’re expecting.”

Behind him, the hallway exploded in fire.

From above, Starbride heard a crash. The sound of someone crying out in pain echoed down the stairway. A rush of heat billowed downward, and a flash of light brought the dim stairway into stark relief.

Starbride resisted the urge to rush up the stairs. She pressed her sleeve to her mouth and crept through the smoke. More yelling came from above and another cry of pain. What had Katya gotten into?

Someone ran up the stairs behind her. She lifted a pyramid, but Freddie slid to a stop on the dimly lit landing below her, hands raised.

“What’s happening?” they asked at the same time.

He hurried to her side. “I followed a woman through several streets. Took me forever to figure out it wasn’t Maia. Why did you come in alone?”

She almost smacked him. “I’m chasing Katya.”

“Katya’s in here?” He pulled his mask out of his clothes and slipped it on.

“Upstairs, by the noise.” More smoke drifted down the steps. “We have to hurry.”

He took the lead, but she kept her pyramid out. Light flickered from the third floor, a sure sign of fire. Now there were more voices, more footsteps. Pennynail and Starbride flattened against the wall as people hurried past them, all of them dressed in filthy rags or leather ensembles not unlike Pennynail’s. Starbride tried to peer into their faces.