Saithorthepyro

Chapter 9 - The closet is the best place to store kidnapping victims

The Infernal District lit up at night.

No oil streetlamps, of course. Even as old as those were, they’d only made it to the district's outskirts. Instead, assortments of lanterns and interior candles lit up the district. The city operated some of those, but most were not and would flicker off as their owners went to bed. No one wanted to use up fuel they didn’t need.

Money was tight here. Some were born who didn’t know the feeling of having to keep track of every half-penny...

Chapter 8: In Search of Sandwich and Box

Carnly’s was just ahead on the right, and I could already hear the raucous sounds of the night crowd. Two patrons stumbled out and almost immediately began losing their meals on the side of the street. Light drinkers.

“Do me a favor and order for me if you don’t mind,” I said to Tolman. “If you’ll pardon me for being crude, I couldn’t really relieve myself in the cell either. Could you order my sandwich and drink? Mead, lightly sulfured, and surprise me on the sandwich? I�...

Chapter 7: Never Quite Home

I shivered as I walked down the empty street.

My clothes had a few new holes in them courtesy of the Pure-blood thugs. On top of that, they weren’t designed for nightlife. My faithful coat was also barely hanging on.

It still provided some comfort from the chill of night and the bite of the wind. Small comforts. I should revel in them. I could remember a time when I didn’t have this protection against wind and rain. My mind wandered down that road for a second, then recoiled....

Chapter 6: More Old Hated Friends

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Me, a Watch interrogation room, and the law trying to pry the truth out of me in any way it could.

Thinner wrists chafed less in Watch restraints, which was a nice change. I also welcomed the lack of torturers. Although they might come out later.

Then again, maybe the stifling heat and lack of air were replacements for those torturers. That and the feeling of the table’s edge pressing into my stomach. The interrogation roo...

Chapter 5: A Short Stay without Room or Board

Constable whistles sounded again, and I flicked the blood off my saber.

What an unfortunate spot of bother. Typically, patrols in the Infernal Quarter, while heavier than they’d been for years, weren’t regular enough to worry about, but those sounded both close and numerous.

Near the cathedral as well? Something stank. The only issue was of what in particular. In league with this human gang? Simply on Gavlor’s trail? Something entirely unrelated?

Actually, that didn�...

Chapter 4: A Spot Of Bother

As Top Hat screamed, I grasped for his other hand.

He stabbed at my hand, and I withdrew, yanking my saber’s blade out of him. The flesh gave quickly, my blade sliding out. I cut at him again.

Top Hat’s dagger parried another slash from my saber. My hoof lashed out, kicking his shin. Daintier than usual, it still got a yelp out of the human.

A cane hit my wrist. I held onto the saber, turning to the new threat. A dagger cut my arm, carving a shallow cut on my arm. A heav...

Chapter 3: A Twist In Face

“No,” I answered.

I headed towards the main road, leaving the specter of my past cursing my name.

“You can’t just leave me! I’m dying, Malvia!” he yelled.

To my annoyance, a few people in the street were noticing the noise. I could not be seen in Golvar’s company. I could not have him calling me that name. Word would travel, and I’d spent too much time severing those links.

I didn’t question how Golvar knew about my new appearance. Versalicci would kn...

Chapter 2: Hell's Own

I walked out of the private booth with a spring in my step, and not the kind that was becoming popular to install in both legs.

I was in a small corridor, the doors to the private booths lining both sides of it. To my right, Lord Montague’s bodyguard and a stone wall. To my left, the sound of a tavern in the middle of a busy afternoon. We must be the only ones using a booth right now.

Despite the emptiness of the booths, given the noise of conversation and general raucousness, t...