Chapter 67: THE HEALER's SECRET

The determination that overtook the expressions of pain and fear in the assassins eyes shifted into a disturbingly feral, disjointed stare. His head jerked wildly from side to side, much like the faltering staggered motions of a failing sentinel. His lips curled up into a snarl that showed his canines as if he was a beast spreading its mouth wide for the kill.

Risens sprang back from the mans body as he felt the tremor rumble through his pinned form. Like a wave it rolled from his gut up toward his throat as his back arched and his head tilted backward at an awkward angle.

“We want nothing to do with his flesh. It is tainted.”

The normally bloodthirsty talons screamed in his mind, pleading with him not to strike. An awkward popping sound, like the snapping of bones beneath the skin echoed through the chamber as the mans body went limp. A puff of thick green smoke billowed from his mouth.

Risens needed no additional confirmation to understand that whatever mist poured from the dead assassins mouth would have been lethal. Instinctively he covered he held his breath, covering his nose and mouth with the side of his arm. Something had triggered in the mans body, a lethal defense against interrogation and a desperate final revenge against those who sought it.

As quickly as their trap had been sprung it had failed though it wasn’t the attempt on his life that surprised him the most. His profession was fraught with risks. Over the years he’d ended the traitorous lives of enough high profile targets to justify the efforts. Even more so lately than ever. It wasn’t the act itself, but who had perpetrated it that was concerning.

His final words had mentioned a name that hr’d never heard uttered.

The Hunt.

Risens was exceptionally well informed, yet this was not a name he’d read in any report that had he’d come across. He stalked the shadows of the city daily though he’d never heard a whisper of it in the places where people talk when they believe no one is listening.

Corvus, the name that accompanied it sparked a peculiar hint of familiarity, though as much as he tried, he couldn’t place where he’d heard it. There would be time for investigation and introspection at a later time and date. If the information was true and they were patrolling the shop or shops in shifts, it would stand to reason that others would soon arrive. They would find nothing but bodies.

Unsurprisingly he found nothing of not among the bodies of the assassins. The shop keeper had large purse secreted among the folds of his cloths. Risens normally had no need for money, having his means provided by the Kingdom he served though considering his present circumstances, the extra coin would not go to waste.

He was no petty thief. He hadn’t killed for the safe of the gold, nor for the goods. His revenge had been taken for the man’s betrayal. He changed into a new cloak as the current one tore as he’d exited the wreckage of the changing room door. He hastily stuffed a pair of bags full of supplies. From this moment on, he would consider the various discrete shops across the city as compromised. He’d likely meed to source his own goods from the vendors and make the necessary modifications himself. There were others not in the king’s employ that could be utilized, though there were none that he knew to trust.

News of the deaths at this shop would reach the King’s ear before long. He kingdom would respond as expected. Operations at the rest would be shuddered until they could be moved to a new safe point anyway.

That the attempts on his life were inextricably tied, he was certain. That neither were Lathrenon’s doing he was sure, though the King likely had his own furtive plans to see his demise.

There hadn’t been much time for thought following the revelation that at least some of the assassins send with him to kill the Warlord were assigned ulterior motives. His dramatic exit from the mountains and the events that followed quickly as the dust settled had kept him far more occupied than he could have imagined.

There was a level of understanding in the current assassination attempts that dwarfed his expectations. Conversely, the lack of knowledge on the part of the Kingdom was concerning. Either they were entirely in the dark about both the organization of the Dreamcatchers and the existence of The Hunt, or the information had been selectively withheld from him. He discounted the latter as details of this magnitude were not easily hidden. It was disturbing that he could think of no other means for this volume of closely guarded secrets to have escaped beyond a leak of some sort.

Whether someone was providing the information for their own benefit, either tangible or otherwise or someone in the know had extremely loose lips. He stopped as his free hand reached for teh handle of the iron door exiting the shop. There was one in the King’s employ that he knew had already given up far more information for the price of carnal pleasure.

The stings of fate it seemed were in line at the moment, as he knew exactly where he could go to find the information. It just happened to be where he was already heading.

The alley behind the shop was deserted as always as the stone panel sealed itself shut for what he expected to be the last time. Risens had considered burning the place to the ground, with the drought extending and no clouds on the horizon, the resulting blaze would be catastrophic. Using the Conspiracy of Ravens he issued the call, watching as the pair descended lazily from the darkening sky above. Both alighted together on a ledge that extended above the hidden door. The faint aura that surrounded them was still red though it no longer pulsed as he watched.

“Can you watch over my path again, friends?” Risens whispered. “We don’t have for to go this time.”

With the pair perched close together he noted the subtle differences in their appearance. One was slightly larger than the other, bearing slightly larger, more defined feathers at its throat. Whether one was older and more mature or that one was male and the other female he didn’t know. The pair of majestic bird turned their heads as it communicating with each other for a moment before returning their pointed gazes to him. With a subtle call, both dipped their heads before taking to flight.

Risens had not originally intended on using the eyes of the birds again so soon, yet encumbered as he was with the excess supplies, he decided the extra precaution was warranted. His trips to the clinic had recently been as frequent as his trips to the secrecy of the Roost. With a twinge of regret, he realized that he was likely putting both Tawny and Marlaine in far greater danger than necessary. As of now, the assassins that had attempted to kill him, whether they were sent by the King, the Dreamcatchers of whatever The Hunt was only haunted his known locations. For the time being, his presence here was a secret from them all.

For how long?

The thought sent an uncomfortable ripple of emotion through him. He had fought and killed for what he thought was the safety and security of Halthome. He’d followed his order blindly, believing only the reality that he had been fed. Doubts crept into his mind. How many times had he been deceived? How many innocent lives had he ended on pretenses that were patently false?

As quickly as he could, he stuffed the thoughts to the back of his mind, burying them in whatever justification he could. They fought back with a fury, like a dam cracked open under the pressure, he’d plugged the leak with a pebble and feeble hope that it would hold. He knew that one day it would break beyond repair. For the first time there were faces that he recognized among the crowd, among the intangible idea of the realm he was to protect. They only grew stronger as he stopped in front of the familiar door.

The ravens circled lower, the pulsing red aura that surrounded them had grown faint. They hovered on the breeze, watching him from above.

“Thank you, friends,” he whispered. A single call responded as they disappeared behind the building.

His deliberate pattern of knocks, a solid thump, a pause and then three rapid raps on the door brought the shuffled sounds of footsteps from within.

“Who is it?” He recognized the cautious, partially disguised voice of Tawny answer from within. He replied with the coded number of knocks—a single one in this situation. All was well.

The jingling of the chains being removed preceded the grating of the deadbolt sliding back from the door. Her worried eyes peeked through the gap between the door and frame before swinging it open for him to enter.

“You had me worried.” She placed her weight on one leg, bending the other slightly while resting her hand on her hip. The worry in her expression had warmed though it swelled again when her eyes settled on the heavy bags he carried. She quickly shook off the emotion, hastening to close and lock the door behind him.

“Are you alone?” Risens inquired as he deposited the gear taken from the shop in the corner. She eyed him with a look of curiosity.

“I had only one spare bed and it’s currently occupied,” Tawny responded. “I’m sure Marlaine wouldn’t mind sharing if you intend on moving in.” She muttered something under her breath that he was likely sure he didn’t want to know. He was honestly surprised that Marlaine had stayed. He had made it clear that she was free to leave and was bound by no ties beyond her silence.

“No,” he answered, attempting to dodge the direction the questioning was likely going. He was a master of death. He could kill a man in a thousand ways with every conceivable weapon with precision accuracy, yet he felt his verbal response struck like a child hefting a toy sword for the first time. “It would be irresponsible to put you in greater risk that I already have.”

Her eyes squinted slightly at the response, her lips pinching to a pout before returning to a relieved grin. His eyes tracked the neatly organized room, stopping as they reached the blood-stained edge of a garment sticking out of the hamper in the corner to the side of the windSteps.

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried?” She asked, her vision tracking to where his gaze had lingered. “I’ve treated more since I saw you last then I have in years. I’m sure I’m not alone in my healing.”

“It s not safe to tell you where I have been,” he replied. “It seems the Windwake is becoming a far more dangerous place. Can you…”

“Hide the bags?” She interrupted. “Can I ask what’s in them?”

He grinned at her intuition, thankful that the fabric and mask still covered his face.

“Clothing, a few blades and gear.”

“Wait, are you planning on staying?”

“No.”

She sighed as she brushed past him, though he eyes lingered on him as she moved to the side of the selves set along the wall. Bending down she pried open a carefully concealed panel in the floor boards. He could see the first rung of a ladder just below the first step.

“Hand me the mageLight,” she requested, pointing to where it rest on the table as she swung her legs over the edge. “They’ll be safe here. You can pass one down and follow with the other.”

Handing over the light, she removed the shutters before moving gracefully down the ladder. He passed her one of the packs before watching her descend into the darkness. A few meters below the floor, he could see the narrow passage open to a chamber lf sorts though the details were lost from where he stood. It was only a few moments before he was greeted by her smiling face. Bathed in the amber glow of the light the curling strands of her hair seemed to glow like fire.

Behind her, the narrow arched ceiling of the passage extended until it reached a chamber lit in an eerie dim green glow. The pathway walls and ceiling were lined with stone, though the area lacked the pervasive moisture, slime and expected odors he’d come to associate with the underground catacombs. The aroma sent an involuntary shiver down his spine nonetheless, it was one he was far too familiar with.

Every application was excruciating.