Murder in Corvis

MURDER IN CORVIS RICHARD LEE BYERS

Cover by

NÉSTOR OSSANDÓN

CONTENTS

MAP .....................................................................................................i WELCOME O HE IRON KINGDOMS ................................................................. ii CHAPER 1........................................................................................1 CHAPER 2......................................................................................10 CHAPER 3......................................................................................18 CHAPER 4......................................................................................25 CHAPER 5......................................................................................30 CHAPER 6......................................................................................35 CHAPER 7......................................................................................46 CHAPER 8......................................................................................49 CHAPER 9......................................................................................60 CHAPER 10....................................................................................64

CONTENTS

CHAPER 11....................................................................................65 CHAPER 12....................................................................................67 CHAPER 13....................................................................................73 CHAPER 14....................................................................................77 CHAPER 15....................................................................................80 CHAPER 16....................................................................................83 CHAPER 17....................................................................................90 CHAPER 18....................................................................................94 CHAPER 19....................................................................................96 CHAPER 20....................................................................................99 CHAPER 21..................................................................................102

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CONTENTS

CHAPER 22..................................................................................105 CHAPER 23..................................................................................110 CHAPER 24..................................................................................116 CHAPER 25..................................................................................119 CHAPER 26..................................................................................121 CHAPER 27..................................................................................126 CHAPER 28..................................................................................131 GLOSSARY .....................................................................................135 ABOU HE AUHOR ................................................................141

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MAP

WELCOME TO THE IRON KINGDOMS

T he world you are about to enter is the Iron Kingdoms, a place

where the power and presence of gods are beyond dispute, where mankind battles itself as well as all manner of fantastic races and exotic beasts, and where a blend of magic and technology called mechanika shape industry and warfare. Outside the Iron Kingdoms themselves—the human nations of the continent called Immoren—the vast and unexplored world of Caen extends to unknown reaches, firing the imaginations and ambitions of a new generation. Strife frequently shakes these nations, and amid the battles of the region the most powerful weapon is the warjack, a steam-powered automaton that boasts great mobility, thick armor, and devastating weaponry. A warjack’s effectiveness is at its greatest when commanded by a warcaster, a powerful soldier-sorcerer who can forge a mental link with the great machine to magnify its abilities tremendously. Masters of both arcane and martial combat, these warcasters are often the deciding factor in war. For the Iron Kingdoms, what is past is prologue. No event more clearly defines these nations than the extended dark age suffered under the oppression of the Orgoth, a brutal and merciless race from unexplored lands across the great western ocean known as the Meredius. For centuries these fearsome invaders enslaved the people of western Immoren, maintaining a vise-like grip until at last the


people rose up in rebellion. Tis began a long and bloody process of battles and defeats. Tis rebellion would have been doomed to failure if a dark arrangement by the gods had not bestowed the Gift of Magic on the Immorese, unlocking previously undreamed-of powers. Every effective weapon employed by the Rebellion against the Orgoth was a consequence of great minds putting arcane talents to work. Not only did sorcery allow evocations of fire, ice, and storm on the battlefield, but scholars combined scientific principles to blend technology with the arcane. Rapid advancements in alchemy gave rise to blasting powder and the invention of deadly firearms. Methods were developed to fuse arcane formulae into metal runeplates, creating augmented tools and weapons: the invention of mechanika. Te culmination of these efforts was the invention of the first colossals, precursors to the modern warjack. Tese towering machines of war gave the Immorese a weapon the invaders could not counter. With the colossals the armies of the Rebellion drove the Orgoth from their fortresses and back to the sea. Te people of the ravaged lands drew new borders, giving birth to the Iron Kingdoms: Cygnar, Khador, Llael, and Ord. It was not long before ancient rivalries ignited between these new nations. Warfare became a simple fact of life. Over the last four centuries periodic wars have been broken up by brief periods of tense but wary peace, with technology steadily advancing all the while. Alchemy and mechanika have simultaneously eased and complicated the lives of the people of the Iron Kingdoms while evolving the weapons employed by their armies in these days of industrial revolution. Te most long-standing and bitter enmity in the region is that between Cygnar in the south and Khador in the north. Te Khadorans are a militant people occupying a harsh and unforgiving territory. Te armies of Khador have periodically fought to reclaim

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lands their forebears had once seized through conquest. Te two smaller kingdoms of Llael and Ord were forged from contested territories and so have often served as battlegrounds between the two stronger powers. Te prosperous and populous southern nation of Cygnar has periodically allied with these nations in efforts to check Khador’s imperial aspirations. Just over a century ago, Cygnar endured a religious civil war that ultimately led to the founding of the Protectorate of Menoth. Tis nation, the newest of the Iron Kingdoms, stands as an unforgiving theocracy entirely devoted to Menoth, the ancient god credited with creating mankind. In the current era, war has ignited with particular ferocity. Tis began with the Khadoran invasion of Llael, which succeeded in toppling the smaller kingdom in 605 AR. Te fall of Llael ignited an escalating conflict that has embroiled the region for the last three years. Only Ord has remained neutral in these wars, profiting by becoming a haven for mercenaries. Te Protectorate has launched the Great Crusade to convert all of humanity to the worship of Menoth. With the other nations occupied with war, this crusade was able to make significant gains and seize territories in northeastern Llael. Other powers have been drawn into this strife, either swept up in events or taking advantage of them for their own purposes. Te Scharde Islands west of Immoren are home to the Nightmare Empire of Cryx, which is ruled by the dragon oruk and sends endless waves of undead and their necromantic masters to bolster its armies with the fallen of other nations. o the northeast the insular elven nation of Ios is host to a radical sect called the Retribution of Scyrah that is driven to hunt down human arcanists, whom they believe are anathema to their gods. Te savage wilds within and beyond the Iron Kingdoms contain various factions fighting for their own agendas. From the frozen

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north a disembodied dragon called Everblight leads a legion of blight-empowered warlocks and draconic spawn. Te proud, tribal race known as the trollkin work to unite their once-disparate people to defend their lands. Deep in the wilds of western Immoren, a secretive order of druids commands nature’s beasts to oppose Everblight and advance their own various plans. Far to the east across the Bloodstone Marches, the warrior nation of the Skorne Empire marches inexorably closer, bent on conquering their ancient enemies in Ios as a step toward greater dominion. Shadowy conspiracies have arisen from hidden strongholds to play their own part in unfolding events. Tese include the Convergence of Cyriss, an enigmatic machine-cult that worships a distant goddess of mathematics, as well as their bitter enemies the cephalyx, a race of extremely intelligent and sadistic slavers who surgically transform captives into mindless drudges. Te Iron Kingdoms is a setting whose inhabitants must rely on heroes with the courage to defend them using magic and steel, whether in the form of rune-laden firearms or steam-driven weapons of war. Te factions of western Immoren are vulnerable to corruption from within and subject to political intrigue and power struggles. All the while, opportunistic mercenaries profit from conflict by selling their temporary allegiance for coin or other favors. It is a world of epic legends and endless sagas. Enter the Iron Kingdoms, and discover a world like no other!

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CHAPTER 1 Milo

Out on the street, the light of gas lamps gleamed on cobbles slick

with rain. Te thoroughfare ran through a respectable neighborhood of prosperous shopkeepers and skilled tradesmen and was too well illuminated for easy lurking. Happily, though, the narrow alley that intersected the street had no such lamps, and the recessed doorway where Milo Boggs stood was darker still. No one was likely to notice a smallish man in a long black cloak as he peered out at the locals’ comings and goings. Te soot-stained brick above his head even kept him out of the drizzle. Hooves clopped, and a carriage rolled across the intersection. Next came three young men crowing and laughing as they cavorted along. Ten a grey-haired woman in a shabby wrap, perhaps a servant trudging from her employer’s house to her own modest lodging. None of the passersby were of any use to Milo, and after a while, impatience started gnawing at him. Or perhaps it was the loneliness that occasionally crept up on him when he watched other people going about their lives. Come on, he thought, come on. Don’t make me wait all night. Moments later, a lone man in a foppish hat with an upturned brim and a gold cockade came into view. Pudgy with a mottled, florid face, he stopped in front of the alley to take a silver flask from his pocket and unscrew the cap with the exaggerated care of the intoxicated.

MURDER IN CORVIS RICHARD LEE BYERS •

Milo smiled. It was as if Morrow or one of the deity’s ascendants had answered his prayer, although he supposed the suggestion would appall a priest. More likely they’d want to credit Tamar. Te tippler drank, returned the flask to its pocket, and moved on. Milo gave him time to get a little farther away, then headed out onto the street to follow him. Now Milo simply needed the right spot at the proper moment: a dark patch where the gaslight didn’t reach, and nobody else was wandering by. As he awaited his opportunity, his hands checked the gear hidden beneath his cloak. One bandolier contained all the grenades it should, and the other, its full complement of throwing knives. He’d carefully buckled the sundry pouches incorporated into his alchemist’s leather armor; their contents wouldn’t spill even in the throes of violent exertion. Really, he’d already known he was prepared. But the little ritual settled his nerves. Te drunkard paused for another nip from the flask and then arrived at a spot where the street divided like a ribbon cut lengthwise, the left side remaining at ground level and the right sloping downward into the earth. He opted to descend. If he hadn’t needed to keep silent, Milo might have laughed. First the drinking, now this. It was as if the fellow were trying to help him. Despite the target’s manifest vulnerability, tackling him aboveground would still have presented a certain amount of risk. But, poorly lit and just as poorly patrolled—the domain of scoundrels who felt only contempt for victims and paupers who survived by keeping their heads down—the Undercity of Corvis was the ideal place for a robbery. Milo wondered what a well-dressed, seemingly reputable fellow wanted in such a disreputable precinct of the city. Perhaps he harbored

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a taste for the sort of entertainments that were readily available there. In any case, if he were stupid enough to visit such a dangerous place alone and inebriated, then he deserved whatever befell him. Te cobbles gave way to damp, rutted soil. Ten the street leveled out in a cave with tunnels running off in three directions. Even here, a few gas lamps burned to half-reveal the structures in the gloom. ilted precariously, a ruinous house looked as if the constant subsidence of the city had long ago dropped it from the world above. A rickety staircase climbed to an opening halfway up the cavern wall. Several grimy, ragged men had lined up in front of a shack painted with a crude line rendering of a naked woman, and a bored-looking ruffian with a club sat by the door to take their coins. Te brothel keeper and patrons were unlikely to bestir themselves on the drunkard’s behalf. Still, having waited this long, Milo might as well delay making his move until there were no witnesses at all. Especially since the fat man, in his helpful way, appeared headed for a less-populous portion of the caverns. As Milo followed, he brought his gas mask out from under his cloak and slipped it over his head. Te mask would protect him from catching a stray whiff of his own weapon. It would also keep the man in the fancy hat from noticing his pockmarks or anything else about his face. Te tippler led him into a passage lined with the Undercity’s version of tenements, or rather, their charred and crumbling remains. Once, a landlord had jammed in hundreds of tenants, but then a fire broke out and killed them. No one had tried to do anything much with the space since. Rumor claimed it was unlucky—haunted or accursed. But the tunnel was the quickest way from one populous section of the caves to another, and so people braved it and kept a couple of torches burning along the way.

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Still treading silently, Milo quickened his pace until he came within throwing distance of the oblivious figure in front of him. He then tugged a grenade from its bandolier, thumbed the exposed arc of cog that started the clockwork inside ticking, pulled the pin, and threw the metal orb. Te grenade thudded down just behind the man in the hat. Startled, he whirled, and then, with a bang and a flash, the metal casing burst apart. If any of the scraps hit him, they were likely to sting, but the actual point of the detonation was the vapor that puffed from the ruptured shell. Te pudgy man breathed it in and started choking. Fumbling at his throat, the fancy hat tumbling off, he collapsed to his knees. Milo smiled. Te strangle gas shouldn’t asphyxiate its victim, not at this concentration. But it was doing a fine job of incapacitating him. Te alchemist dashed forward, reviewing what he meant to do next as he moved. He’d kick the target until he booted out whatever fight was left. Ten take the man’s purse, the fancy hat with its gold cockade, the silver flask, and any other valuables. Ten lose himself in the maze of tunnels. Suddenly, Milo heard something snap. He threw himself down, and as he did so, his mind caught up with his reflexes, consciously identifying the noise that, after years spent in sordid circumstances rubbing elbows with dangerous associates, his body had recognized immediately: the sound of a crossbow discharging its bolt. Te quarrel streaked over him and stabbed into the earth. Te angle told him his assailant had shot from an upper-story window in one of the burned tenements. Good. Whoever the bastard was, he’d likely made a slow, precarious climb through the wreckage to reach his perch and would have to descend just as carefully if he didn’t want to break his neck.

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Tat meant his only option was to keep attacking at range, and the alchemist reckoned he knew how to spoil the other man’s aim. He pulled loose a second grenade, thumbed the trigger cog, pulled the pin, and lobbed the metal ball in the direction from which the quarrel had flown. As the grenade rolled over the soft, uneven earth, a dark shape clambered through a third-floor window. Milo watched more in surprise than dismay. Only an idiot would jump from that high up. But that was what his attacker did. An instant later, the bomb exploded, and the resulting swell of smoke kept Milo from seeing the crossbowman land. He did, however, hear metal clash. Ten a hulking figure strode through the smoke screen. Milo’s assailant had plainly accomplished the jump without breaking his legs or otherwise injuring himself, and now that the would-be robber was getting a closer look at him, he understood the reason why: the crossbowman wasn’t actually a man at all. He was a trollkin and thus stronger and sturdier than any human being. Te trollkin had the massive frame and blue-green skin of his kind. Half his face was jaw and most of the rest was sloping brow, with his wide mouth, nub of a nose, and beady eyes squashed in between. A strip of orange-red quills bristled atop his head. He wore plate armor with spikes jutting from it everywhere they could without impeding movement, carried a big steel shield, and had an equally impressive war hammer slung across his back. Te crossbow now dangled from his belt. Milo rather wished he’d turned and run the instant he tossed the smoke grenade. He reminded himself that he’d bested a number of foes bigger than himself over the years. Still, few of them had been this big, and clearly it would be foolish to fight if he could trick his way out of trouble. He pointed

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at the pudgy man who, obliging to the last, was still wheezing in an alarming fashion. “If you don’t help him,” Milo said, “he’ll choke to death.” “I doubt it,” the trollkin replied. His rumble of a voice sounded more intelligent than Milo had anticipated. “If his airways were going to close, it would have happened already. Besides, nobody’s paying me to look after him. Te bounty is on you.” Bounty? Milo didn’t know what the trollkin was talking about, but the comment nonetheless suggested a way out of this situation. “If it’s coin you’re after,” he said, stepping backward, “rob the drunkard. I promise, it will be easier than fighting me.” “But I’m not a thief.” Refusing to let Milo open up the distance between them, the trollkin advanced. “I’m a thief taker .” Milo whirled and ran. Footsteps thumping, the trollkin raced after him. Milo pulled his remaining strangle gas grenade from the bandolier, thumbed the cog, pulled the pin, and counted to two. Ten, without looking back or breaking stride, he tossed the bomb over his shoulder. He’d practiced the move and was reasonably confident of landing the missile near his pursuer by sound and reckoning alone. Metal clanged, and then the grenade banged. Unfortunately, it exploded off to the right, not directly behind him. Te trollkin must have swatted it away with his shield just prior to detonation. Well, then, Milo wouldn’t give him the chance to knock away or otherwise avoid the next one. He pulled a bomb from the snug leather loop holding it in place and slowed his pace just a little, giving the trollkin the chance to draw closer without being obvious about it. When he judged the moment was right, he thumbed the cog, counted to three, spun, and felt a pang of dismay to discover that the trollkin was even nearer than expected. Still, his tactic ought to work.

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He pulled the pin and bowled the grenade, sending it to explode under the trollkin’s feet. Vapor burst from the detonation, the cloud expanding enough to put Milo himself at the fringe of it. As expected, the trollkin in his spiky armor froze in response to a sudden jolt of fear. In another moment, the hallucinations would begin. Ten he might flail at them, try to flee from them, or simply stagger around recoiling from the imaginary terrors assailing him from every side. However he reacted, he wouldn’t give Milo any more trouble. In fact, the alchemist judged that if he were quick about it, he could still accomplish the robbery and be well away before either the trollkin or the pudgy tippler recovered from his concoctions. He started to circle around his erstwhile pursuer. Ten, his wide mouth contorted in a grimace, the thief taker lunged clear of the thinning cloud of gas. He slapped himself in the face, once and then again, resounding blows that might have knocked a human off his feet. His dark little eyes locked on Milo. How had he shaken off the effects of the gas? Perhaps he’d had the wit to hold his breath as the grenade exploded and had inhaled only a trace of it. Or maybe his natural hardiness was to blame. Either way, he was now even closer than before. He rushed Milo, and once again, the alchemist fled. Fine, Milo told himself. If the grenades weren’t working, he’d simply outrun his pursuer. Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult. Te trollkin had plate armor weighing him down. Milo sprinted, striving for every iota of speed of which his legs were capable, and for a couple of moments, was certain he was pulling ahead. Ten something struck the back of his right calf and made him stumble. He looked down and discovered a crossbow bolt sticking in his leg. At that same instant, the wound started to throb.

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Tere was no time to tend the injury now. He ran on, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t entirely shut out the pain. It made him limp, and he was certain the trollkin was catching up to him. So Milo would have to try another trick. He veered and dashed through one of the doorways leading into a burned-out shell of a tenement. Inside, supported only by charred sticks of columns and scraps of wall, the wooden structure above him creaked. He dodged through an opening on the right. Despite the narrow windows, the darkness inside the building was all but absolute, and he had no hope of sneaking silently as, tripping over clattering rubble and bumping into obstructions, he groped his way along. At his back, the trollkin made a similar racket but didn’t sound like he was falling any farther behind. Milo fumbled his way past a section of wall and spotted another doorway, a charcoal-colored rectangle in the blackness that led back outside. As he reached it, he grabbed a grenade, thumbed the cog, pulled the pin, and threw the missile at the noise of the bounty hunter’s approach. Te grenade flashed and banged, and the contents made a sizzling sound. But to Milo’s disappointment, the trollkin didn’t cry out; the acid must not have splashed him. But then chunks of wood crashed down from overhead. Recoiling, Milo realized the acid had splashed something that had been holding up a portion of the ceiling. Te question now was, had the debris smashing down on the thief taker killed or incapacitated him? Alas, no. His shield held over his head, the trollkin staggered into the doorway. Milo snatched out a knife and threw it. Te blade spun at his pursuer’s throat. Te trollkin twisted at the waist. Te knife clanked against a

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spiked pauldron and fell away. Te bounty hunter swung down his shield in front of his body and charged. Scrambling backward, Milo grabbed another knife and cocked his arm. But before he could throw the leaf-shaped blade, the trollkin rammed the shield into his body. Te crashing impact threw him off his feet and made him feel like a bell that had just been tolled and was vibrating still. He told himself that he had to keep fighting—had to—and then the trollkin dropped his shield, maneuvered around behind him, took him by the neck, and squeezed.

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CHAPTER 2 Gardek

Gardek Stonebrow compressed the human’s carotid arteries until

his quarry stopped squirming and pawing at him, then released his grip and looked him over. Te grenade and knife thrower’s chest rose and fell. As intended, the blood choke had simply rendered him unconscious, not dead. Good. Gardek had been advised that alive was preferable. Although actually, still jumpy from the fear gas and sore where falling wood had battered him, he wouldn’t have been especially upset to discover he’d killed the wretch. He’d taken this job knowing his quarry was dangerous, but even so, who would have expected one runt of a human to be so difficult to catch? Certainly not Gardek. Of course, pretty much everything about this night had surprised him. He’d had a hunch the object of his hunt would turn out to be undead, as those who claimed to have glimpsed his quarry had reported a shrouded, misshapen, malodorous figure skulking through the dark. With that to build upon, his own wishful thinking had done the rest. Five years ago on the Longest Night, an army of the dead had assaulted Corvis, and Gardek’s brother had been torn apart amid the horror and desperate fighting that followed. Gardek hadn’t yet finished avenging him—he was reasonably certain he never would—and in consequence, no hunts pleased him more than those that ended with him hammering such abominations into splintered bone and spattered rot.


Sadly, this chore hadn’t turned out to be one of those. Still, it was a job, and now he needed to complete it and collect his pay. He removed the human’s cloak and the bandoliers and armored alchemist’s vest beneath, then rolled him onto his stomach to bind his hands behind him. Only then did he strip off the gas mask. Te pocked face beneath was thin, almost haggard—that of a man who’d known hunger and hard times. An ordinary face, really, but Gardek had been a bounty hunter long enough to disabuse him of any notion that wrongdoers necessarily displayed their larceny for all to see. Te best were those whose faces were easily forgotten. He stowed the human’s belongings in the haversack he wore on his back along with his war hammer. Ten he picked up the unconscious man, carefully so as to avoid sticking him with a spike. Te enhancements to his armor had their uses in battle but sometimes complicated mundane tasks. A voice wheezed, “You.” Gardek pivoted to discover it was his quarry’s quarry who’d spoken. He’d worked so hard to catch the man in the gas mask that he’d essentially forgotten the plump little dandy. “I need to go home,” croaked the human. “I’ll pay you to get me there safely.” “I’m busy. Just go, quickly, before some other bastard takes an interest in you.” Gardek turned away without waiting to see if the man would heed his advice. He passed out the north end of the tunnel and through an enclave of gobbers with their grey-green skin and long, pointed ears who were kicking a ball around with some local human children. Standing knee-high and weighing a fraction of his bulk, they all scrambled to get out of the way of his spiked boots. Some of the residents eyed him and his prisoner curiously, but no one was brave enough to accost him.

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After that, he turned into one of the many sections of cave no one had ever attempted to colonize, and where no torches or gas lamps burned. No matter. Shaken periodically, a lantern filled with bottled light got him from one end to the other. With a twinge of amusement, he wondered if his prisoner had been involved in the manufacture of the bottled light. It was possible. Te alchemist might be a respected member of the Order of the Golden Crucible when he wasn’t prowling around committing atrocities. It was in the next tunnel that the small man groaned and stirred. Gardek set him down, leashed him, and waited for him to finish waking. Te alchemist’s eyes fluttered open. He gasped when he discerned his new circumstances, but Gardek had to give him credit: although he must have been frightened, he took a deep breath and did his best to keep that fear from showing in his expression or his reedy, tenor voice. “We can work this out,” he said. Gardek gripped the captive’s forearm and hauled him to his feet. “Maybe you can,” he said, “but you’ll have to do it with the man who hired me. So get moving.” “In case you’ve forgotten, I have a quarrel in my leg.” “It didn’t keep you from running before. It won’t stop you from walking now. Anyway, we’re nearly there.” In fact, their destination was just around the next bend. Te glow of gaslight relieved the darkness before the building itself came into view. Many of the structures in the Undercity looked like they were on the verge of collapse or at least had an air of shabbiness about them. Old buildings that had started life aboveground and had subsequently sunk were rotting away, and a fair number of the ones rebuilt below had been thrown together by amateur carpenters and masons using whatever mismatched materials came to hand.

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Te gambling house, however, was plainly the work of professional builders—though that didn’t mean its facade bespoke taste or refinement. Te blaze of lamplight illuminated gaudy murals depicting the beast fights that were one of the establishment’s principal attractions. Enthroned above the entrance sat a carving like the figurehead of a ship, a woman holding a scepter capped with a skull. Te same morbid motif adorned her high-backed chair and the diadem encircling her brow. Te alchemist stopped short. “You’re taking me to the Queen of Skulls?” “Yes,” Gardek said. “Ten this truly is a mistake. Lon Kurgan has no reason to care about me.” “ell him that.” Gardek shoved the human forward. Te man watching the door admitted the newcomers without comment. He knew Gardek, and a trifling detail like a bound captive didn’t faze a member of the Knotted Cord gang. Beyond the doors were card rooms where men sat playing black argus and brag. Despite the prisoner Gardek was herding along, a couple of them called out to him, urging him to claim a seat at their tables. He could have picked a good spot; many chairs were empty. Te gamblers wanted him to join them because they thought trollkin were stupid, and when he played, he did his best to appear so. It made it that much easier to win. He and the alchemist passed from the card rooms into the fighting hall, where a battle had just concluded in the pit in the center of the floor. Te carcass of an enormous boar lay torn and bloody there. Equipped only with a crook-handled, spiral-car ved cane and high brown-leather gauntlets, a Khadoran expatriate named Pytor Nazarko was persuading a bear with a gash in its flank to reenter a wheeled cage used to transport animals from

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the enclosures along the walls to the pit and back again. Te beast trainer’s fearless mastery of his charges was as much a part of the show as the fights themselves, and once the bald man with his bushy side whiskers completed his task and his assistants rolled the cage cart up the ramp, spectators approached him to express their admiration. Smiling and nodding, Nazarko shook their hands and traded one slap on the back for another. Meanwhile, Lon Kurgan surveyed the scene from the railed gallery ten feet above the floor. Burly but soft in the gut, dressed in garish mustard yellow velvet, and possessed of a ready smile and cold eyes, the human looked like what he was: a mid-level chieftain in a notorious crime syndicate. Gardek could imagine hunting him someday, when it was the Corvis Council posting a reward. For now, though, Kurgan was his employer, and when the manager of the Queen of Skulls noticed him, Gardek pointed at the alchemist and nodded to signal that he’d caught his quarry. “Bring him up!” Kurgan shouted. He looked across the hall to Nazarko, who was about to enter the bear’s cage with what was likely a veterinary kit in hand. “You come too, Pytor!” Nazarko frowned. “Te bear’s wounded.” “It’ll live until you get back to it. And if it doesn’t, buy another. Now come, damn it!” Gardek marched the alchemist through the somewhat sparse crowd to a staircase. Nazarko joined them on the steps, and the three of them approached Kurgan together. “Mr. Kurgan,” the prisoner said. “Tis is a mista—” Kurgan backhanded him, whipping his head to the side. He gestured to a room. “In there.” Gardek shoved the alchemist into a kind of office decorated with the glassy-eyed heads of wolves, bears, and other animals. Perhaps the trophies were supposed to suggest that Kurgan was a gentleman

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who enjoyed aristocratic pursuits like the chase. It was all but certain, though, that the animals had actually died rending one another in the pit. “Put him there,” Kurgan said, gesturing to a straight-backed chair set before an ornately carved desk. He sat down behind the desk and looked the prisoner over. After a few seconds, he grunted and said, “He doesn’t look like much. And I thought you told me we were after an undead.” “I said at the time,” Gardek replied, “that was only a guess.” “Still, are you sure you caught the right man?” “Yes.” Gardek ran down the reasons why. Te alchemist listened with a mixture of horror and astonishment burgeoning on his face. Gardek had to give him credit; the pretense was almost convincing. When Gardek finished, Kurgan said, “All right. I believe you.” He sneered at the alchemist. “If you have anything to tell me—anything that would incline me to make what’s to come any easier on you— now’s the time.” Blood oozing from a split lower lip, the alchemist swallowed. “Mr. Kurgan, I give you my word, every word the trollkin said is wrong. I haven’t murdered anybody.” Kurgan glowered. “It’s too late for lies. I want to know why you killed them.” “I didn’t!” Te gang chieftain turned to his second-in-command. “Should we torture the truth out of him?” Nazarko shrugged. “If you do, what will you learn? Tat he’s a madman or a pervert. Don’t we know that already? Of course, if you simply want to take out your frustrations . . .” Kurgan shook his head. “I want this finished.” He leered at the prisoner. “Tat doesn’t mean an easy death. Te way I see it, you owe

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me, and I have an idea how to collect.” He looked back at Nazarko. “We untie him and throw him into the pit with the burrow-mawgs. Te marks bet on how long he can last.” “All right,” Nazarko said, “as soon as I see to the bear—” “Forget the bear! We’re lucky we have a bigger crowd right now than we’ve had in weeks. We’re going to do this before any of them wander off. I want their coin, and I want them to spread the word that the murderer’s dead.” “Mr. Kurgan,” the alchemist said, “I swear, you have the wrong man.” Te gang boss looked to Gardek. “Drag him back downstairs and take his bindings off. My men will help you hold on to him until it’s time to throw him to the animals. Afterward, I’ll give you your pay.” Gardek did as instructed, with the prisoner struggling and protesting every inch of the way. Te trollkin felt a twinge of unwilling sympathy. Te alchemist was going to die a needlessly ugly death. He reminded himself it would be no worse than the final moments of the killer’s victims. While he and one of Kurgan’s henchmen prepared the captive, the gang boss himself shouted down from the gallery to explain who was about to die and how the crowd could wager on it. Gamblers pushed up to a chalkboard and the clerk stationed there to place their bets, and another functionary climbed a stepladder and reset a brass timepiece mounted high on the wall to zero. Te instrument was made to tick off seconds, not to track the minutes and hours of the day. Nazarko and an assistant rolled a wheeled cage down the ramp into the pit. Tis cage had wire mesh over the bars to keep the burrow-mawgs from squeezing through. Tere were at least a dozen mawgs inside, shaggy animals the size of hounds with bat-like ears and large red eyes. Teir slavering

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mouths were huge and crammed with jagged fangs. Tey scuttled back and forth, over one another, and up the mesh, frantic to escape their confinement and attack and devour whatever prey they could. Nazarko’s assistant ran back up the ramp. Te animal trainer opened the cage, and the burrow-mawgs hurtled out. Nazarko backed up the incline while sweeping his cane back and forth at knee level, and, almost miraculously, the creatures allowed him to reach the gate at the top of the ascent and secure it unmolested. Ten it was time. Te man on the stepladder gripped the lever that would start the clock, and Nazarko raised his arm to give the signal. Gardek and the fellow who was helping him manhandled the alchemist to the edge of the pit.

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CHAPTER 3 Eilish

Eilish Garrity had never visited the Queen of Skulls before,

and he peered about with interest. He was, after all, a student of psychology in general and crime in particular. Judging from the number of people he could see clustered deeper inside the building, something was about to commence— probably one of the beast fights for which the illegal gambling house was know. But nobody in the card rooms showed the slightest inclination to leave his seat and watch. Tey were focused on their own games. He might have made an observation about the nature of obsessive behavior, but he could see that neither of his companions was inclined to listen. Possessed of a long, narrow face and shrewd grey eyes and currently dressed in nondescript civilian garb, Watch Lieutenant Rorke was plainly intent on locating the man they’d come to see. Te black-haired and swarthy Colbie Sterling was striding after the lawman, her armored greatcoat flapping around her. Eilish supposed he’d better follow as well, and when the three of them entered the room that featured the fighting pit, he caught his breath. Tey hadn’t walked in on the start of a beast fight after all: a trollkin and a human scoundrel were about to throw a smallish man down to a pack of milling, snarling burrow-mawgs. “Stop!” Rorke shouted. At the same instant, the crowd, recognizing that the slaughter was about to begin, started counting down in


unison from three. Eilish realized the Watch officer’s voice was lost in the general clamor. Colbie spun toward Eilish. “Do something!” she shouted. He realized he could. Under his breath he spoke several syllables that served as a mnemonic aid for the arcane runes he had to mentally visualize to manifest his will. He thrust out his hand in its blackened steel gauntlet, which matched the rest of his suit of well-fitted plate. Glowing blue runes appeared in the air around his extended hand. He felt a surge of exertion, as though he were throwing a punch. A bolt of arcane energy leaped from his fingertips and blazed over the heads of the people in front of him to impact the far wall with a burst of azure light. Te display startled everyone into silence. Ten Rorke could make himself heard. “Stop this! Release the prisoner!” Clad in an expensive but garish outfit of yellow velvet, a man scowled down from the gallery overhead. Eilish surmised that the fellow was Lon Kurgan. “You don’t understand what’s going on here,” the gang boss called. “It looks like attempted murder,” Rorke replied. “How big an idiot are you that you asked me to come here and then let me walk in on that?” Kurgan’s scowl grew fiercer still. “I sent for you—” He took a breath. “We’re both idiots if we go on talking in the middle of a crowd. Come up. You too, Pytor.” “Not while that man is still standing at the edge of the pit,” said Rorke. “Fine.” Kurgan looked to the trollkin. “Bring him back up here for now.” Te trollkin hauled the captive toward a staircase. Rorke headed for the steps as well, Colbie and Eilish followed him. Scowling, a beast handler with a cane and high leather gloves—Pytor, presumably—

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brought up the rear. Tey all ended up crowded into an office decorated with mounted animal heads. Some taxidermist was likely making a nice living off Kurgan’s taste in décor. Kurgan sat down at an ornate desk. “As I started to say before, I sent for you more than a week ago.” Rorke sighed. “I have a new captain to answer to, and he’s watching me.” Kurgan’s lips twitched into a momentary smile. “I can understand not wanting to draw his attention.” Rorke took a breath. “Here’s the thing: the Watch is already looking into the killings.” “In the halfhearted way you look into anything that happens hereabouts?” Rorke pressed on. “I’m not in charge of the case, so my men and I can’t do anything extra. Not until the young snot gets tired of spying on me. But I have brought two people who should be able to help you. You’ve seen that Eilish Garrity here is an arcanist. He also studied forensics at the university.” At Kurgan’s blank look he added, “Tat means he knows how to solve crimes.” Eilish had put his investigative skills at Rorke’s disposal. Te Watch lieutenant had paid him off the books for assistance with a couple of puzzling cases. “While Colbie Sterling,” Rorke continued, indicating the other person with him, “is a mercenary, a mechanik, and a ’jack marshal.” Eilish wasn’t sure how that justified Colbie’s inclusion in a criminal investigation, but if Rorke wanted her involved—well, Eilish couldn’t overrule him. “Tey can have the reward you offered,” the lawman said. “I’ll just take a finder’s fee.” Kurgan snorted. “You’ll take nothing, and neither will they. It’s your own fault. When I called and you didn’t come, I hired a bounty

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hunter—Gardek Stonebrow there—to catch the killer, and he did. Tat’s who we were about to toss to the mawgs, and I don’t see why any sensible man would object to me saving Corvis the price of a trial and a hanging.” “Really?” Eilish said. “I’ve never had the opportunity to examine such a depraved killer close up. May I?” Without waiting for an answer, he approached within arm’s reach of the small man with the pockmarked face. Te trollkin Gardek scowled but permitted it. “Mr. Garrity,” the small man said, “I’m not —” “Hush,” Eilish said. “I’m working.” He inspected the prisoner from head to toe, then bent close to sniff him. When he was satisfied, he turned toward Kurgan. He could feel he was smiling, and why not? Few things in life gave him greater satisfaction than revealing truth to those less perceptive than himself. “Naturally,” he said, “Lieutenant Rorke explained your problem when he enlisted my aid, but let’s review the basics. For the past five weeks, people have been getting butchered in the general vicinity of the Queen of Skulls. More than half were gamblers on their way home from this very establishment. Te killings have been savage in the extreme, the corpses gruesomely mangled. Once word got out, people decided to seek their entertainment elsewhere and your profits plummeted. Higher-ups in the Knotted Cord then started pressuring you to fix the problem.” Kurgan glared at Rorke. “You talk too much!” “Lieutenant Rorke didn’t tell me about your gang affiliation,” Eilish said. “It’s common knowledge to anyone with even a passing interest in the criminal fraternities of Corvis. But to continue: you responded to the pressure by seeking help, first from the good lieutenant and then from Mr. Stonebrow—who unfortunately has let you down.”

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It was the trollkin’s turn to glare. “What are you saying?” “Tat this fellow . . . what’s your name?” “Milo Boggs,” the prisoner said. “Tat Mr. Boggs is not the murderer.” Gardek sneered. “I’ve been prowling around the area for days waiting for the killer to reveal himself. And he did! I surprised Boggs in the act of attacking a man.” “I only meant to rob him,” said Milo, “not kill him.” Eilish smiled at Kurgan. “And that’s not such an outlandish claim here in the Undercity, is it? People commit that sort of crime with some frequency. I’ve heard it said that in your younger days, before achieving your present position of responsibility, you yourself dabbled on occasion.” “Boggs was operating in the same area where the murders took place,” Gardek said. Milo protested, “I didn’t even know there were murders! I’ve been shut up in my alchemy laboratory. I only came out when I needed fresh supplies and the coin to buy them.” Eilish looked up at Gardek. “I’m sure that after days of tedious skulking in the dark, it was exhilarating to think you’d finally caught your man. Perhaps excitement made you forget the reports of those witnesses who claim to have glimpsed the shrouded, shadowy form of the killer vanishing down one tunnel or another. Some described him as quite large. Some said there was a strangeness to his shape that made them wonder if they were looking at a gatorman or some sort of undead, like a swamp shambler.” Gardek snorted. “People don’t always see straight. Especially in the dark, or when they’re scared, or when an alchemist is throwing fear gas around to addle them.” Te trollkin pulled the haversack off his back and poured the contents onto Kurgan’s desk. He picked up a gas mask from the scatter and displayed it for all to see. “And this

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would have helped them imagine they were looking at something uncanny and not just a vicious madman.” “In truth,” Gardek continued, “it’s you who’s forgetting what the witnesses had to say. A couple of them claimed the killer smelled funny, and Boggs does, too. You just took a whiff of him. You must have noticed it.” “Te witnesses spoke of a rotten odor,” Eilish answered. “Mr. Boggs has a trace of a fishy smell clinging to his person. I suspect bone oil figures in his work.” “Tat’s right!” said the alchemist. “It does!” Te bounty hunter scowled. “I already said, you can’t count on witnesses to get details right. Particularly when they’re doing their witnessing under adverse conditions.” Eilish smiled. “I agree. Witnesses are often unreliable. How fortunate, then, that we’re not limited to what others have told us. We have evidence we can inspect for ourselves. For example, Mr. Boggs’ effects.” He removed a magnifying glass from the pouch attached to his sword belt and used it to examine the alchemist’s cloak, armor, and bandoliers. “Te killer mutilated his victims with extraordinary ferocity,” he said. “Yet there’s not a speck of dried blood on these articles. Everyone, feel free to borrow the lens and check for yourself.” Gardek made a spitting sound. “You don’t think he had the sense to clean up afterward?” “I think it would be difficult to notice and expunge every tiny drop of gore on black cloth and leather. But if that argument doesn’t convince you, consider this.” Eilish drew one of Milo’s throwing knives from its sheath on a bandolier. He brandished it to give everyone a good look. “While Lieutenant Rorke was seeking out Miss Sterling,” he

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said, “I took the opportunity to examine the bodies of the two most recent victims.” He smiled. “I have an arrangement with the morgue attendants. Anyway, a knife with two convex edges couldn’t possibly have inflicted the wounds on the cadavers. Te murder weapon is a blade that snags the flesh and rips it, like a hook.” Gardek looked to Kurgan. “You know me!” the trollkin said. “I’ve tracked down scores of fugitives. What has this . . . schoolboy ever done?” Eilish framed a crushing retort, but Colbie forestalled him by speaking first. “I know you, too, Mr. Stonebrow, at least by reputation. If you’re the professional everyone says you are, you won’t let vanity or greed stop you from acknowledging that you haven’t yet earned your fee.” Te trollkin glowered at her for a moment. Ten he released his grip on Milo’s forearm. Te alchemist closed his eyes and slumped in relief.

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CHAPTER 4 Colbie

“Damn it!” Kurgan snarled. He was upset at Gardek’s tacit

admission that he’d captured the wrong man. Colbie, however, was relieved. When Rorke had introduced her to Eilish, she’d taken a dislike to the lanky blond arcanist, whose snide demeanor had given her the impression he resented being forced to work with her. Now, however, she saw there was more to him than arrogance. His observations had dissuaded Kurgan from believing someone else had already caught the murderer before she’d even had a chance to show what she could do. For her, that opportunity was even more important than the pay. After several years of fighting for other captains, she’d decided to found a mercenary company of her own. o operate legally, that company would need a charter from the city, and a Watch officer could exert the influence necessary to get the petition approved. Rorke had promised to do so provided she demonstrated her competence by helping to solve a few problems, including this one. Milo reached for his belongings. “Now that we’ve cleared up the misunderstanding,” he said, “I’ll just get out of your way.” “I didn’t say you could go!” Kurgan snapped. “Hold on to him, Gardek!” Te bounty hunter took a fresh grip on the prisoner’s forearm. Eilish gave Kurgan a smile. “I take it we’re in agreement that the


killer is still at large. I’ll set about catching him for you.” Gardek glared. Milo sucked in a breath as the trollkin’s fingers tightened on his arm. “Tis is still my job,” Gardek said. “Surely not after you botched it,” Eilish replied. “Am I correct, Mr. Kurgan?” Te gang boss snorted. “Tere’s a reward. It’ll go to whoever earns it.” “Ten it’s a race,” the arcanist said. “Tat’s fine with me.” “And with me,” Gardek said. Colbie cleared her throat. Te others turned to look at her. “I suggest the three of us work together,” she said. Eilish shook his head. “Forgive my bluntness, Miss Sterling, but I had difficulty reconciling myself to splitting the bounty two ways. I draw the line at three.” “I work alone,” Gardek said, “and if I did take a partner, it wouldn’t be a strutting know-it-all like him.” “Forgive my bluntness,” Colbie said, “but neither one of you is thinking clearly.” She looked Eilish in the eye. “You’re clever, and you learned everything the university could teach you. But how much practical experience have you had? How many cases have you investigated altogether?” Eilish’s mouth tightened. “What matters is that I solved them.” “Mr. Stonebrow,” Colbie persisted, “has been a bounty hunter for years, and though he may have made a mistake this time around, he’s not exaggerating when he says he’s tracked down scores of men, many here in the Undercity. If that doesn’t convince you, well, look at him. I can handle myself in a fight, and I hope you can, too, but we’re going to be hunting a dangerous man in a dangerous place. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a trollkin on our side?” Eilish scowled, but he didn’t have an immediate retort.

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Colbie didn’t give him a chance to think of one. She turned to Gardek. “And you,” she said, “must admit that Mr. Garrity just showed you up. For all your experience, he has skills you lack. Wouldn’t it make sense to take advantage of those abilities to find a target who has managed to elude you?” Te bounty hunter grunted. “I can see your point on that, but you haven’t said what you bring to this partnership you’re proposing.” Colbie said, “You’re seeing it right now.” “Enough,” Kurgan said. “I’m convinced your chances are better if you all work together. And since it’s my job and my coin, that settles it.” Gardek’s wide mouth twisted. “If that’s the way it has to be.” Eilish gave a martyred sigh. “I suppose that if my ‘partners’ stay out of my way, I can still get the job done.” Teir prisoner spoke up. “You’ll get it done faster with my help. I want in, too.” Everyone looked at the alchemist in surprise. Colbie had halfforgotten about him in the moments since Eilish finished with him, and by the look of it, the others had, too. “No,” Kurgan said. “Maybe you didn’t kill anybody, but you tried to rob somebody in Knotted Cord territory without permission.” Colbie assumed that obtaining such permission would have required promising the gang a share of the loot. Milo looked to Colbie. “You want the trollkin,” he said, “because he knows the Undercity and he can fight. Well, thieves know their way around down here in a way that even a bounty hunter doesn’t. And I can handle myself in a scuffle.” “Sorry,” Eilish said. “I was happy to prove you’re not the murderer, but beyond that, you’re on your own.” “Let’s not be hasty,” Colbie said.

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Te arcanist rounded on her. “A four -way split?” he demanded. “With this rogue? You can’t be serious.” She understood Eilish’s reaction. On the surface, Milo scarcely seemed likely to prove a dependable ally. But instinct told her there was more to him than met the eye—or perhaps she was simply reluctant to abandon anyone to the nonexistent mercies of the Knotted Cord. “I believe he has something to offer,” she said. “He might, at that,” Gardek rumbled. “Schoolboy, living life with your nose stuck in books you wouldn’t know it, but a true battlefield alchemist is damn useful in a fight. And Boggs is one, or he could be if he wanted to; he gave me plenty of trouble before I took him down. So if you humans are worried about the dangers of the dark, horrible Undercity, let’s bring him along.” Colbie was reasonably certain Gardek wasn’t worried. She suspected he’d spoken up for Milo mainly to spite Eilish—and just possibly because he regretted delivering the wrong man into Kurgan’s hands. Tat was all right. She’d take his support whatever his reasons for giving it. “What about his leg?” Eilish demanded. “How’s the man going to fight, or even keep up with us, when he’s wounded?” “It isn’t bad,” Milo said. “Once the bolt’s out and a bandage is on, it won’t hinder me.” “Anyway,” the trollkin continued, “I’m already a partner, and I say the alchemist is in. Colbie says the same. Tat means you’re outvoted, schoolboy.” “But it isn’t actually up to us,” Eilish replied. “Is it, Mr. Kurgan?” “No,” Kurgan said, “it isn’t. Te alchemist deserves to be punished, and I have a roomful of gamblers downstairs waiting to bet on exactly how it goes.”

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“I told you, Kurgan,” said Rorke, “I may be here unofficially, but I can’t ignore murder. Tere are limits.” Colbie looked Kurgan in the eye. “Please,” she said. “Te important thing is to catch the killer as quickly as possible, and I truly believe Mr. Boggs can help.” “Fine,” Kurgan growled after a tense moment. “But get the job done, or maybe the next band of hunters comes after the four of you.”

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CHAPTER 5 Milo

Milo felt a vague shyness as he led his companions down the steps

to his cellar room. Other people didn’t come here. Even his mentor never had. Milo had lived and worked in the apothecary’s shop before the Watch hauled the old man away for selling poison to married folk who needed a remedy for unfaithful spouses, parents who selfishly refused to pass on and allow their offspring to inherit, and those facing other such impediments to a happy life. Considering that most of his laboratory equipment was stolen property—carted away from his benefactor’s shop after the man’s arrest or subsequently pilfered elsewhere—Milo might have felt even more reluctant to unlock the door had Rorke still been with the group. Fortunately, the lieutenant had parted company with the rest of them outside the Queen of Skulls. Te trestle tables, sand baths, athanors, crucibles, retort stands, aludels, and other tools of his science took up most of the available space. Looking around, Eilish Garrity murmured, “Hmm.” Milo had the feeling he might actually have impressed the cocky arcanist. Since alchemy and magic were related disciplines, it was possible Eilish had some appreciation for what he was seeing. Milo crossed the room, unlocked a wardrobe beside the narrow cot, and replenished his bandoliers with grenades and a knife. Fully armed once again, he felt more up to the mission of tracking a deranged killer.


Not that it was a mission he necessarily intended to pursue to its conclusion. When it had become clear that Kurgan wasn’t done with him—innocence or relative innocence notwithstanding—he’d said what would enable him to avoid a closer acquaintance with Pytor Nazarko’s burrow-mawgs. He had no great desire to stalk a mad-dog killer through the tangled warrens of the Undercity. If he and his companions actually caught the murderer, his own share of the bounty would come in handy, of course, and he’d rest easier knowing the Knotted Cord had forgiven him his transgression. Still, this wasn’t his sort of enterprise, and when the opportunity presented itself, he might very well give the others the slip. He’d see how he felt when the moment arrived. He turned back around. “Ready,” he said. “Ten let’s get to it,” Gardek said. Perhaps, big as he was, he was impatient to escape the cramped quarters. Te quills on his head were scraping the low ceiling. “Of course,” Colbie said. “But the first step is to decide on a strategy. We may as well talk here, out of the rain and the mist.” She reached inside her armored greatcoat, brought out a leather flask, and tossed it to the trollkin. Gardek unscrewed the cap, took a swig, and nodded. “Good hooch,” he rumbled. Te dark woman grinned. “Every decent mechanik knows how to build a still.” “I don’t mind chatting until the drink runs out,” the bounty hunter said. “But I already came up with a strategy.” “Find a hiding place and pounce on whoever wanders by?” Eilish said with a bit of a sneer. He perched on the stool that, aside from the cot with its thin horsehair mattress and coarse, tangled blanket, was the only place to sit. “Because plainly, that’s foolproof.” Gardek scowled. “I already admitted I made a mistake targeting

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Milo, but appearances were against him. It doesn’t change the fact that hiding and waiting for the quarry to come to you is sometimes a good way to hunt.” As he was speaking, he handed the flask to Milo, who took a swig and found that he agreed with the trollkin’s opinion on the liquor, at least. Te moonshine burned pleasantly on its way down and kindled a promising warmth in his belly. Eilish asked, “How did you propose to identify the killer if he did happen by but was neither manifestly undead nor, at that very moment, stalking a victim?” “I had the descriptions, vague as they were,” the bounty hunter said, “and I know a suspicious character when I see one. You might develop the instinct, too, schoolboy, if you last that long. If I’d spotted the murderer, I could have tailed him until he did something that proved he was our man.” Accepting the flask from Milo, Eilish shook his head. “If we discount your claim to some sort of preternatural intuition, the whole approach comes down to luck and guesswork.” He pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from a pocket of his cloak, wiped the mouth of the bottle, and took a drink, then started coughing. Colbie looked up at Gardek and said, “You’re the professional man hunter, and it may well be that your approach would have caught the killer in time. But there are four of us now, all with our own skills. Maybe we can come up with something more . . . active. A way to finish the job faster.” Gardek shrugged. “I’m listening.” Colbie looked to Eilish, whose coughing fit was subsiding. “You told me you have a map of the Knotted Cord’s part of the Undercity with the locations of the murders marked on it.” Te arcanist used his handkerchief to wipe his mouth and

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chin. “Yes,” he said, the hint of a smile on his lips, “and I’ll show it to you if your toxic brew has left me the strength.” Colbie held out a hand for the flask. “If you don’t like it . . .” “Hold on—I’m not sure I kept any down the first time.” He took another swig, managed to swallow it without choking, and then surrendered the flask. He produced the map from another pocket and unfolded it. After shifting a mortar and pestle to clear space on a table, he set the parchment down. “Behold.” Careful to stay clear of Gardek’s armor spikes, Milo gathered in close with the others to look. Eilish had indicated the murder sites with dots of red ink. Te Queen of Skulls was at the approximate center of them. Colbie traced the edges of the area with her forefinger. “What if,” she said, “the murders all happen hereabouts because the killer goes to ground somewhere in the vicinity? If so, could we search and flush him out?” “No,” said Milo. “Sorry.” Te mechanik cocked her head. “Why not?” “It may only be one part of the Undercity,” Milo answered, “but the area’s still too big and complicated. Tere are caves and tunnels this map doesn’t show, and all kinds of people and other things living there and going about their business.” “Milo’s right,” Gardek said. “Even if we split up, it wouldn’t be practical—and if we did separate, I wouldn’t bet on the schoolboy coming back.” “Which I’m sure would break your heart,” Eilish drawled. “Very well, then. If a general search won’t work, an examination of the murder sites may prove enlightening.” “It won’t,” the trollkin answered. “I already looked at them.” “But you aren’t me .” “No,” Gardek said, “I’m a better tracker than you ever dreamed of

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being, and I didn’t find any sign. You certainly won’t now. Te trail’s too cold.” Eilish scowled. “Tere may be something.” “I agree,” Colbie said. “We’ll visit the sites. But Gardek has a point: we can’t pin all our hopes on that alone. What else can we do?” Milo shrugged. “Maybe somebody saw something.” “I read the testimony of the witnesses,” Eilish said. “I can question them myself, but I doubt I’ll elicit any information they didn’t already give the Watch.” “I don’t mean them,” Milo replied. Te moonshine came back around to him, and he took another fiery drink. “Te Undercity is full of people who’d cut out their own tongues before they’d talk to the law about anything. Maybe one of them saw something.” “Will they talk to us?” Colbie asked. Gardek made an ugly smile. “One way or another.”

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CHAPTER 6 Gardek

T he fourth murder had taken place near a sinkhole that plunged

into lightless depths. Eilish had insisted that everyone else stay back while he prowled and crawled over the killing ground. Gardek amused himself with thoughts of some huge, horrific creature from the center of the earth popping up out of the hole and dragging the arcanist to his doom before the companions he himself had shooed away could intervene. Tere were stories about such monstrosities, but so far as Gardek knew, they were only stories, and in any case, despite his embarrassment in Kurgan’s office, he wouldn’t have relished watching Eilish die. Te long-legged, yellow-haired human actually was clever. It was just that he was too impressed by his own intelligence, which in Gardek’s estimation made him the most annoying kind of fool. If he weren’t, maybe Gardek wouldn’t have yielded to the impulse to argue for Milo’s inclusion in the group. When he’d pointed out that the little thief was also a capable battlefield alchemist, he’d only been telling the truth. Still, the word “shifty” might have been invented to describe him. Colbie, though, projected a cool-headed common sense he was coming to like despite himself—which made him wonder about one thing. “You know,” Gardek said, glancing around for any signs of trouble, “it doesn’t matter that you’re down here with a big trollkin


with a big hammer, an alchemist with grenades, and a spell caster. Nobody should ever come to the Undercity unarmed.” Colbie smiled and opened her greatcoat. On the inside, wrenches, screwdrivers, and mallets hung in loops. Plainly, they could serve as makeshift weapons if need be, but more impressive was the bulky slug gun riding her hip. Slug guns were made for cracking steamjack armor, but they’d also put a gaping hole in a living target, provided the shooter scored with the weapon’s single, none-too-accurate shot. Colbie’s coat was so voluminous that the weapon didn’t make a perceptible bulge. “Better than nothing,” Gardek said. “Still, I’m surprised you didn’t bring a ’jack along. We couldn’t wander around inconspicuously, and there are spaces down here it would have trouble squeezing through, but I never knew a mechanik to leave his machine behind if he thought he might be heading into trouble.” Colbie sighed. “I probably wouldn’t have, either, if I still had one. But mine got blown to pieces.” “How?” “I was part of a mercenary company called ‘Nolan’s Elite.’ Te name was something of a joke; most of us weren’t all that elite. Certainly Nolan himself wasn’t, especially when he had a bottle or two inside him. Which was most days.” She shook her head and continued, “A shipping company hired us to clean out a band of rogues who were operating as both river pirates and highway bandits, and nobody doubted we could handle them. Tey were just supposed to be swampies like Milo here.” Her smile took the sting out of the epithet. Te small man blinked. “How did you know?” “You still have a hint of the accent. Anyway, the robbers turned out to be more than we expected in pretty much every way possible: more numerous, better organized, and better armed. Tere was a rumor

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going around that Khadoran agents were sneaking into Cygnar and giving support to brigands and such, so maybe that accounted for it. In any case, the robbers got wind of our approach and set a trap for us. What happened next wasn’t a massacre, but I had to sacrifice my ’jack to cover the retreat of some of my comrades.” “Wasn’t there enough in the company coffers to buy a new one?” Milo asked. Colbie shrugged. “I didn’t stick around to find out. I’d had my fill of Nolan’s Elite. I decided—” She was interrupted by Eilish calling, “I’m done.” He got up off the ground and brushed dirt from his armor and cloak. Gardek, Colbie, and Milo advanced into the glow that Eilish’s magic had kindled around the sinkhole. Te arcanist had hoped the illumination might reveal signs that had previously gone undetected, but judging from his lack of excitement, he hadn’t found much of anything. Gardek felt a pang of spiteful satisfaction. “Well, go on,” he said to Eilish. “Amaze us with your discoveries.” Eilish sneered back. “Te evidence is consistent with what I observed at the previous sites. Te blood spatter indicates that, as the witnesses told the Watch, the killer is tall. Judging by the distance it traveled, he’s also exceptionally strong.” “In other words,” Gardek said, “you don’t have anything new or helpful.” “Well, I am at least ready to declare with certainty that we’re not hunting a thrall or some other form of corporeal undead. None of the sites revealed even a speck of the decayed flesh such a creature would shed when lashing out so forcefully.” Te blond man gave Gardek a malicious smile. “Like Milo’s presumed guilt, that’s a bit of random guesswork you need to leave behind.” “It’s more than guesswork,” Gardek growled. As far as he was

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concerned, the good thing about the alchemist’s exoneration was that it meant the killer might be undead after all, and he was loath to let go of the notion a second time, particularly on Eilish’s say-so. “You’re forgetting the stink the witnesses spoke of.” “I never forget any piece of evidence,” Eilish replied. Te glow around him faded as he allowed the magic to run out of energy. “But I predict that when we catch the killer we’ll discover a different explanation for the smell.” “Unfortunately, we aren’t much closer to catching him yet,” Colbie said, the light of the lantern in her hand revealing an old stain on the skirt of her greatcoat. “Milo, this cave looks empty to me, but do you know of anyone who spends time around here?” Te alchemist hesitated. Gardek had observed that he always did when asked to give up one of his secrets. After a moment, the man nodded and said, “It’s unlikely they saw anything, but we can ask.” He then strode to the brink of the sinkhole. “It’ll take a little climbing.” Gardek peered over the edge. “I don’t see anything.” He grunted before adding, “But I suppose if they’re friends of yours , that’s how they want it.” “Who does?” Eilish asked. “Who’s down there?” “Mushroom growers,” Milo said. Colbie cocked her head. “Mushroom growers don’t usually need to hide.” “Tat depends on the mushrooms they grow,” Milo said. Gardek assumed he meant the illegal kind, the kind used to make poisons, addictive and maddening intoxicants, and even substances employed in certain dark occult rites. Milo lowered himself over the edge of the sinkhole. “Climb down where I am. Tis is where the handholds are. And if you’re afraid of heights, don’t look down.”

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Eilish followed, and then, reluctantly leaving his shield behind, Gardek was the third to descend. As Milo had promised, there were places to cling to, shallow ridges and cavities in the wall. Unfortunately, a trollkin’s fingers were almost too big to grip them properly, and he soon wished he’d abandoned his gauntlets as well. Gardek groped with his booted foot, found some semblance of a depression, and jammed his toes into it. He released one handhold and reached for another. Suddenly the piece of earth on which he’d just set his boot and the single handhold he was currently clinging to crumbled as one. Evidently the weight of his body and plate was too much for them. He frantically felt for something else—anything else— to grab hold of but managed only to scrabble at solid earth. He realized with horror that he was sliding, which would very soon turn into falling. Ten he heard the unmistakable sound of steel on stone and his left boot landed on something that threatened to give way for an instant but then held. It was enough to let him find secure hand- and footholds. Gardek glanced down and realized what he’d heard was Eilish jamming a dagger into a cleft in the rocks to create a makeshift piton, which was what had arrested his fall. Te arcanist was staring up at him, his face a mixture of relief and irritation. Below them, Milo scrambled into a narrow opening in the wall no one could have spotted from the chamber above. Eilish and Gardek followed. Evidently, when the sinkhole opened, it had provided access to a lower cavern level. Te tunnel snaked away into blackness, and the cool, moist air smelled of dung—the mushroom farmers’ fertilizer, he assumed. Gardek turned to Eilish. It felt awkward to express gratitude to a man with whom he’d squabbled from almost the moment they met, but the trollkin managed a mumbled “Tanks.”

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Te arcanist grinned and held up his dagger; the blade was bent nearly in half. He tossed the ruined weapon away. “I couldn’t very well let you plunge on down and sweep me off the wall, too,” he said. Colbie clambered into the tunnel. “Is everyone all right?” “Yes,” Gardek replied. “Good,” she said. “Next time, we bring a rope and pitons.” Eilish blinked. “Next time?” Ignoring him and turning to Milo, Colbie asked, “What do we do now?” Te man shrugged. “Announce ourselves, I guess. I’ve never been to this place before. I just knew it was here.” He peered deeper into the cave and called, “Zhag! Walu! It’s Milo Boggs! I need to talk to you!” Te cry echoed away down the passage. Ten a shrill voice cried, “Go away!” Eilish arched an eyebrow. “I thought these growers were your friends.” Milo shook his head. “I never said that. But they need alchemical waste to feed to some of their crops, and I have uses for some of the toadstools, so we trade.” “Did you cheat them or something?” Gardek asked. “No!” Milo snapped. He seemed offended, which Gardek found amusing, considering the circumstances of their own meeting. Perhaps the little human had one set of scruples he applied to alchemy and a different, more elastic set for thieving. “Ten what’s the problem?” Colbie asked. “My guess is that they don’t like the idea of anyone being down here,” Milo said. “It’s likely they don’t pay the Knotted Cord, either.” Or, Gardek thought, maybe the farmers partook of what they grew despite its tendency to make the user suspicious and erratic. “Well, I nearly fell to my death climbing down that hole,” he

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said. “I’m not climbing up again without talking to somebody.” “Agreed,” Colbie said. Eilish nodded. Milo gave another shout down the passage. “I promise, nothing’s wrong! But I—and the people with me—truly do need to talk to you. So we’re coming in.” Tis time the mushroom growers didn’t answer, and after waiting several moments, the alchemist led his companions down the tunnel. Te passage appeared to have been cut by water, likely done as the area’s underground rivers periodically sought to alter course over generations, honeycombing the ground under Corvis. Te glow of the lanterns slipped over brown, dripping earth and smooth, eroded stone. Ten, shining from where the cave widened out, more light appeared up ahead. Zhag and Walu had their own lamps burning. Beyond the natural doorway, mushrooms grew in beds of black muck. Some looked ordinary enough, but others had caps as large as Gardek’s shield or were studded with warty, tumor-like growths. Empty hands raised to shoulder level, Milo passed through the gap first. Gardek followed, sidling to negotiate the narrow space. Once inside, he peered around the chamber. Te growers had set up housekeeping in an alcove equipped with a nest of filthy blankets, a camp stove and battered tin cookware, several bushel baskets and rope likely employed to move things in and out of the sinkhole, an oboe, and a tambour. Tere was no sign of the farmers themselves. Above Gardek’s head and just behind him, a high-pitched voice cried, “Don’t move!” A second one yelled, “Dump it! Dump it! Dump it!” Gardek turned and looked up. Milo did the same. Zhag and Walu were perched on a ledge above the opening the bounty hunter and alchemist had just come through. Both gobbers wore gas masks and were gaunt, ragged, and dirty.

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Zhag, the male, had lost the tip of one long green ear to some mishap and held a bushel basket tilted, poised to empty its contents on the intruders below. Walu, the female, whose skin was a green so dark it looked nearly black in the wan lamplight, held a rusty-headed spear readied for thrusting. Murmuring from the side of his mouth, Gardek asked Milo, “What’s in the basket?” “Spores, maybe,” the human replied. “Don’t move.” “I coped with your fear gas.” “My fear gas isn’t meant to kill.” Te alchemist raised his voice to address the gobbers. “See? It’s me, Milo, just like I said.” “It’s not!” Walu snarled. She was shaking as if she could hardly contain the urge to start jabbing at the targets below her. “It’s you and strangers .” Still on the other side of the gap with Eilish, Colbie called, “Harmless strangers. We just want to talk to you, if you’ll only be reasonable. If not—well, my companion out here is an arcanist. He can cast bolts of flame into your home. Even if they don’t set you on fire, they’ll burn your crops.” “And then,” Milo added, “he and Colbie there will flee back down the tunnel and up the hole to tell the Watch and the Knotted Cord about this place. But there’s no need for any of that.” Zhag and Walu exchanged uncertain glances, but he didn’t set down the basket, and she didn’t stop pointing the spear at the top of Gardek’s head. Gardek considered possibilities. Could he snatch hold of the spear before the gobber could thrust, then leap backward and pull her off the ledge? He suspected he could, but would his jump carry him far enough to avoid the cloud when the spores poured down? And what about the others? Would Milo be able to scramble to safety or yank on his gas mask in time? Would the

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dust waft through the gap to Colbie and Eilish? Milo kept smiling up at the gobbers. “What Colbie said is true,” he told them. “Besides, I brought you something.” Moving slowly, he unbuckled one of the pouches in his vest and brought out a vial full of red liquid. Te growers stared. “Is that the tincture?” Walu asked, a different sort of eagerness in her voice. “Te tincture you like to put in your special tea. Yes.” Milo pulled out the cork with a tiny pop. “It would be a shame to kill me and make me spill it.” Walu peered back at him, then cackled and tossed the spear away to clatter on the floor. “Nobody wants to kill you, Boggs. You have to learn to take a joke.” She discarded her gas mask and scrambled down from the ledge. Zhag likewise unmasked, set down the basket, and made his own descent. Meanwhile, Gardek and Milo moved back from the doorway, making room for Colbie and Eilish. Te arcanist peered about curiously. Walu thrust out her hand for the vial. “Not yet,” Gardek said. Greedy though she was, his tone and his glower balked her. “Boggs said it was ours,” Walu sulked. She’d gone from bloodthirsty to petulant. “echnically, it’s a fee,” Colbie said, “but a fee for very light work. As my friends and I have been saying, we only want you to answer some questions.” “You mean, to snitch?” Zhag asked. “Not the kind of snitching that will come back on you,” Eilish said. “Surely, every sane resident of the Undercity wants the rash of tunnel murders stopped, and that’s the matter we’re investigating.” “One of the murders happened right at the top of the sinkhole,”

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Milo said. “If you saw or heard anything, we need to know about it.” Te gobbers looked at each other. Zhag said, “I saw the killer.” Eilish’s eyes opened wide. “Did you, now? Please, tell us all about it.” “I wasn’t down here,” said Zhag. “I’d gone to sell some of the bluecaps, and I was coming back through the tunnel that snakes around and comes up in the Armorer’s Bourg.” Colbie nodded. “Go on.” “Well, I had my lantern, so I could see there was a human walking along ahead of me. Ten I heard—and smelled—something coming up fast behind me.” “What kind of odor was it?” Eilish asked. Zhag shrugged. “I don’t know. Something nasty enough to make me think right away of the stories I’d heard about the killer. Anyway, I looked around and there he was, muffled up in a hooded cloak and rushing out of the dark. I spun around to run and noticed a kind of crack in the tunnel wall. I dropped the lantern, dashed to that crack, and jammed myself inside.” “Did you really expect to hide successfully?” Eilish asked. “At the very least, the killer had already seen the light of your lantern moving along.” Zhag shrugged. “It worked. Te killer charged right on by me. He attacked the human instead.” “I hope you saw him up close as he passed,” Colbie said. “Yes and no,” the gobber answered. “I was peeking out of the crack, so he was only in sight for an instant. Te cloak and hood covered everything. And I didn’t have my light anymore. It was back lying on the ground.” “Tink,” Gardek said. “You must have noticed something.” “I think he had something metal in his hand. I’m pretty sure I saw it gleam.” Te murder weapon, Gardek thought, but without a better

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description, the detail wasn’t helpful. “Anything else?” “Just that he was big. But you already know that, right?” “Yes.” Gardek sighed. Damn it, for a moment he’d imagined they were about to make real progress, but this information was simply more of the same. Zhag eyed him speculatively and then said, “You understand, I don’t mean just big like a human. I mean big like you.” “No,” Eilish said, “that, we did not know. No one has reported it clearly and unequivocally until now. Are you sure?” “Yes,” said Zhag. “Good,” Colbie said. “Milo, please give our friends here their payment. Tey just earned it.”

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CHAPTER 7 Eilish

A t a corner table, two dwarves with flagons of beer in front of

them were debating an esoteric point regarding the Rhulic laws on duels and feuds. As Eilish led his companions past the discussion, he gave his head a tiny shake. People could be so thick . Te idea that slaughter could or should abide by rules was inherently absurd. He found a table at the other end of the tavern, a dingy little dirt-floored establishment lit by stinking tallow candles dripping fat into their grease pans. He and his partners could talk without being overheard here; the place was emptying out. In theory, a precinct shrouded in perpetual darkness had little reason to pay heed to the progression of night and day. But the Undercity did, at least to a degree. Perhaps the inhabitants found it convenient to follow roughly the same schedule as the rest of Corvis. Te thought of sleep triggered a yawn. Eilish smothered it with his hand. Te barkeep, a surly man with a sty in his eye who seemed to wish they’d taken their business elsewhere, eventually brought a round of drinks, and then Eilish unfolded his map and spread it on the table. “Where do we look for trollkin?” he asked. Perched on a chair that was too small for him, Gardek scowled. “Te gobber didn’t say the killer’s one of my kind,” the bounty hunter said. “All we know is he’s bigger than a human.” “Granted, it could have been an ogrun, but my instinct says


trollkin,” Eilish replied. “Ogrun obey strict codes of behavior and are pragmatic when it comes to violence. Tese killings are too savage and undisciplined. No offense.” Gardek shook his head and glowered. “What about the stink?” “What about it? Have you taken a whiff of yourself lately?” Eilish raised a hand to forestall the trollkin’s angry retort. “I apologize. Tat was cheap, and more important, unfounded.” He shook his head. “I can’t explain the smell yet.” Gardek held his gaze for another moment, then grunted. “Forget it. Naturally, we’re going to follow the one lead we’ve got, and this time, I don’t need Milo to tell me where we need to go.” He pointed to a spot just outside the constellation of red dots. “Backbreaker kriel.” “Maybe,” Milo said, “you need me to say we should stay out of there.” “Why?” Colbie asked. “Te trollkin there don’t like outsiders,” Gardek said. Eilish said, “Even so, if you vouch for the rest of us, won’t we be all right?” Gardek sneered. “What do you think, that all the trollkin in Corvis are friends?” Eilish realized he had more or less been assuming exactly that. He really was tired. “No, of course not.” “Good,” Gardek said, “because I’m a thief taker. Te Backbreakers are thieves. Also extortionists and toughs for hire. I’ve hunted a few over the years.” Colbie took a drink and wiped foam from her upper lip. “Tey won’t be happy to see you; point taken. But if we watch each other’s backs, we can cope.” “Let’s hope so,” Eilish said. He tensed his jaw to hold in another yawn. “Should we get some rest and meet back here at noon?”

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“Tat sounds like a good idea,” Milo replied, perhaps a shade too quickly. Gardek snorted. “I imagine it sounds especially good to someone eager to part company with the rest of us and not come back.” Eilish said, “If Milo’s afraid, then as far as I’m concerned he’s free to leave. He was Kurgan’s prisoner. He isn’t ours.” Te alchemist glowered as though Eilish, or Eilish and Gardek together, had hurt his pride, even if their suspicions were correct. “I’m not afraid,” he said, “and I’m not looking for a chance to run out on you.” “I believe you,” Colbie said to him. o the larger group, she added, “If this trollkin gang is as dangerous as it sounds, it might be wise to go in when most of them are asleep.” “If you humans weren’t half asleep yourselves,” Gardek said. Milo smiled. “I have a remedy for that.” He opened one of the pouches integrated into his leather armor and took out a little pewter bottle. He poured a dash of the brown liquid inside into his tankard, then passed the container to Eilish. Eilish doctored his own beer and somewhat warily sipped the results. He just had time to notice that the brew now had a metallic aftertaste before a jolt of pure alertness made him sit straight up in his chair. For a moment, he felt like he was buzzing like a bee, only on the inside. “Te effect lasts a few hours,” Milo said. “ime enough to get in and out again.”

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CHAPTER 8 Colbie

V ague forms, blocks of a different, more solid darkness, emerged

from the gloom ahead. Here and there, wavering torchlight revealed a doorway or a street corner. Clearly this was one of the neighborhoods that had originated aboveground and had sunk to this level, where it had been rebuilt. A large and relatively well-preserved one, actually. “Hmm,” Colbie murmured. “What?” Gardek asked. He kept his deep voice soft. “I suppose I was expecting shacks, tents, or just open cave,” she said. “No offense. I understand most trollkin here in the city live just like the rest of us. But you and Milo make the Backbreakers sound as savage as any kriel—or tribe of human barbarians—living beyond the reach of civilization.” Gardek chuckled. “You don’t give my kind enough credit. Even out in the wilderness, we build houses and villages. Te Backbreakers didn’t build this, though. Tey just found a comfortable place to squat and took it.” “No doubt savagely evicting or killing any previous occupants in the process,” Eilish said. “So, what happens now?” “For starters,” Milo said, “we need to put out our lights.” “Right.” Colbie hooded her lantern. Once her companions had extinguished their own lights, the darkness in her vicinity was all but absolute, and her companions seemed only shadows.


Gardek said, “I may know a way in that the lookout can’t see very well from where he sits. Hopefully the kriel hasn’t changed things or sealed the entry point.” “I see we’re back to guesswork,” Eilish said. “Do you want to watch the place from a distance for a couple of days to make sure we know what’s what?” the bounty hunter asked. “While, in all probability, the killer claims another victim or two?” Eilish said. “No.” “Ten unless you’ve got a better idea, this is the plan. It worked last year, when I had to flush out a target.” “Go,” Colbie said. “We’ll follow.” Keeping low, they all skulked forward. Colbie wondered how they’d pick out the maniacal Backbreaker from all the ones who were merely brutal criminals. Maybe Gardek and Eilish would come up with something clever. Meanwhile, she drew what encouragement she could from the fact that the two professional manhunters seemed satisfied with their progress, even though it consisted of only the testimony of a single mushroom-addled gobber. As much as the thief taker and the “schoolboy” rankled one another, they plainly shared a zest for the chase and a conviction that there was no malefactor they couldn’t catch if they simply kept worrying at the problem. She respected that attitude. It was the kind of tenacity that won on the battlefield. Gardek passed two houses before dropping to his hands and knees in front of a third. He crawled forward and wriggled underneath the structure. Colbie understood why the space was there. On the outskirts of Corvis, with its perpetual rain and soft ground, people sometimes built houses on supports like stubby table legs to keep them up out of the wet. More often than not the effort only delayed the inevitable, but some variation in the density of the soil had enabled this house

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to remain poised slightly above the ground although its neighbors had earth right up to their doorsteps. She, Milo, and Eilish crawled in after Gardek. Beneath the house, the darkness was impenetrable, and she dragged herself along by reckoning alone. She told herself she couldn’t possibly wander off in the wrong direction or fall in a hole, nor would she reach out and put her hand on a hungry rat or some other inconvenient vermin. In due course, she and her companions emerged to what was merely near -total darkness amid the closely situated houses. Te lanky shadow that was Eilish brushed dirt from his cloak and plate, his gauntlets clinking on his breastplate. “Stop that!” Gardek whispered, and the arcanist froze. “No unnecessary noise!” Te trollkin led them to a gate in a fence Colbie didn’t even see until she came within two paces of it. On the other side, an alley twisted deeper into the warren. She was tense with the expectation that the next turn, or the next, would bring one or more of the Backbreakers into view, but that didn’t happen. Tough she was glad, she found the situation perplexing. Granted, the hour was very late, but even the most lawabiding communities included those who had reason to be out at night. She wondered if she and her partners would need to break into a house just to find somebody to question. But before she could propose it, she heard deep voices singing a slow and somber tune up ahead. She tried to make out the words but couldn’t. “It’s Molgur-rul,” Gardek whispered, naming the language of the trollkin. “A hymn to Dhunia. Tat’s why we haven’t seen anybody: they’ve all gathered for some sort of observance.” “I’ll bet they really don’t want outsiders intruding on that,” Milo said, “any more than we want to come upon the whole kriel at once.”

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“You aren’t wrong,” the bounty hunter replied, “but today’s not the changing of the seasons. If they’re all assembled and calling out to the Great Mother, something special is happening.” “Can you be more specific?” Eilish asked. “Not without taking a look.” Colbie took a breath. “Ten we will.” Tey skulked forward, and the singing grew louder. Finally, their course brought them to a balustrade and wide stone stairs leading downward. At the bottom of the steps was a circular sunken plaza that once had likely served as the hub of the neighborhood—and, neighborhood—and, in fact, fulfilled the same function f unction here. Dozens of trollkin stood facing a pile of wood at the center of the space. Squinting, Colbie could just make out the body of a trollkin female laid out on top of it. “A funeral,” funeral,” she whispered. whispe red. “Yes,” Gardek said. “I guess it’s nearly dawn, at least by their reckoning. Most Dhunians bury their dead, to return them to the Mother, but some of the city kriels like the Backbreakers have their own way of doing things. Tey believe fire will send the soul into the next life with the rising of the sun. Tey bury the ashes after.” Eilish leaned out over the balustrade, peering at a scene obscured by darkness and distance. Colbie winced even though she knew it was unlikely unlikely any of the Backbr Backbreake eakers rs would spot him. Te gloom gloom would mask him, and the the troll trollkin kin were were intent intent on on their their fare farewell well.. From the sound of it, a slowing tempo coupled with swelling volume, the hymn was reaching its conclusion. A trollkin near the pyre picked up a torch and moved closer still. Te torchlight ran up the heaped wood to illuminate the body on the top. Eilish cursed. “What’s wrong?” Colbie asked. “Are you blind?” he snapped. “Te wounds on the corpse! Tose are sure signs of our killer.”

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“And the Backbreakers didn’t inform the Watch,” she said, “because Backbreakers don’t talk to the Watch.” “Exactly,” the arcanist said. Ten, when the hymn ended and the trollkin with the torch raised it high, he bellowed, “Stop!” “Shut up!” Milo said. Eilish shouted down to the Backbreakers, “I need to examine that body!” rollkin turned toward the staircase. Te one with the torch, however, did not. He was evidently resolved to perform his office despite interruptions and distractions. distractions. Eilish spoke an incantation, and luminous blue runes flickered in the air around him. He stretched out his arm, and a flare of power leapt from it and hit the torch-bearing trollkin in the back. He staggered and fell to one knee, dropping the torch. “What have you done?” Milo said. “Preserved the evidence,” Eilish replied. “I botched the runes so the spell was all flash and no force. He won’t be hurt—much.” Colbie was glad of that, at least. Still, she had no doubt that in the eyes of the Backbreakers, Eilish’s precipitous act was a vicious, unprovoked assault and sacrilege to boot. Teir cries of outrage bore her out. “Blasphemy!” they shouted in more familiar Cygnaran. “Intruders!” And, in due course, “Get them!” Whereupo Whereupon n they they charge charged d the the stairs stairs..

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CHAPTER 9 Milo

“Idiot,” Gardek growled, clearly angry at the arcanist’s reckless

act. Te trollkin pulled the war hammer off of his back and took up a fighting stance at the top of the steps. Colbie opened her greatcoat and briefly put her hand on the butt of the slug gun before choosing to ready a heavy ’jack wrench and a dagger instead. She moved up beside the bounty hunter. As far as Milo Milo was concerned concerned,, that that clinched clinched it. All three three of his partners— former partners—were idiots. i diots. If they th ey weren’ weren’t smart enough eno ugh former partners—were to run away from a hopeless fight, they could coul d die covering his retreat. He whirled and sprinted back the way they’d come. After a while, however, his initial fear gave way to another feeling he couldn’t quite identify. Regret? Maybe even shame? Either way, it was ridiculous. Disgusted with himself, Milo pulled on his gas mask, turned, and started running back toward the building commotion. Te first of the Backbreakers had reached the top of the stairs. Gardek was fighting them, but not with the powerful swings Milo had come to expect. He jabbed with his hammer instead, issuing blows meant to stun and knock back, not smash skulls or crush chests. Gardek’s heavy armor helped the trollkin weather the first moments of the assault. Sword cuts and hatchet chops c hops bounced off of his shield, pauldrons, and breastplate, while his blows hit unprotected flesh.


Colbie and Eilish added their own efforts in support. Shifting and dodging, the mechanik protected Gardek’s flank with her wrench. Te arcanist worked w orked magic on the bounty’ boun ty’ss hunter’s hunter’s other side, sid e, runes glimmering around his slim form. A glow momentarily surrounded each of them before fading away. Milo recognized the spell: Eilish had cast an enchantment that should blunt the force of incoming attacks. Teir fierce defense notwithstanding, it looked to Milo as though his companions were about to be overrun. He completed his sprint by bumping into the balustrade and throwing a grenade into the group of trollkin massed on the stairs. A burst burst of strang strangle le gas hindere hindered d those those caught caught in in the cloud cloud.. Some fell down choking. Milo grabbed a second grenade and thumbed the trigger cog. Before he could throw it, he heard something whine past his head. He cast about and found the source: sou rce: a Backbreaker down in the plaza had just fired a pistol at him. wo of his fellows were taking aim as well. well. Milo threw the grenade. Te initial effects of the fear gas didn’t keep the trollkin below from firing, but it threw off their aim, and the shots missed. Spotting motion out of the corner of his eye, he pivoted to face a trollkin rushing him, gun axe raised to chop. Te Backbreaker had somehow slipped past Gardek and Colbie and decided to make a run at Milo. He must have already fired and missed with the stubby rifle—which would be scant consolation if the weapon’s blade split his head open, as it very well might. Milo dodged and tried to pull a knife, but the trollkin compensated for the evasive maneuver, and the alchemist failed to pull the blade from its sheath. Although Although pressed pressed by two foes of his own, own, Gardek Gardek saw the scene

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unfold and managed to come to the alchemist’s aid. As his adversaries’ strokes clanged off his shield, the bounty hunter leaned far to the side and used his hammer to swipe at the ankles of the trollkin menacing Milo, sending the Backbreaker down onto the walkway face-first. Colbie whipped her wrench down on the back of the enemy’s skull, just where the crest of quills ended, and he went limp. Gardek heaved himself upright and bulled forward. His massive shield caught both of his opponents and sent them stumbling backward. Fortunately, they had to stagger only a few inches before they floundered off of the top step and toppled back down the stairs. After that, the fight stalled. Milo doubted that meant the Backbreakers had given up, and when he looked over the balustrade, it was clear he was correct. Some bleeding and limping, others coughing and retching among diffusing wisps of gas, the trollkin looked like they were organizing a second assault that was bound to prove more effective than the first impulsive one. “Did we kill any of them?” Colbie panted. Pulling an explosive grenade from his bandolier and putting his thumb on the trigger cog, Milo replied, “Not yet.” “Don’t!” Colbie snapped. “If we kill anyone, this can end only one way.” “You have a point,” Milo said. “We just need to run. Now.” Down below, the Backbreakers were dividing into groups. Peering through the darkness, he could just make out other staircases to either side of the one that he and his partners had been defending. When the trollkin attacked again, they’d do it from three sides. Colbie rounded on Eilish. “How sure are you about the body?” she asked. Milo could see from the way the cocky arcanist’s lip curled that even now, in dire circumstances, his reflex was to produce one of his arrogant replies. But then he caught himself.

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“I’m reasonably certain the female died at the murderer’s hands,” Eilish said. I won’t know what I can learn from the corpse until I examine it.” “So you risked our lives on a guess?” Gardek rumbled. He sounded more amused than upset, as though a chance to chafe Eilish trumped mundane concerns like survival. Eilish smiled a crooked smile. “You’re a bad influence.” Renewed motion from the Backbreakers interrupted their lighthearted exchange. One band had started jogging for the stairs on the right, while another headed toward those on the left. Colbie looked at Gardek. “Tere has to be a leader, someone who can call the others off.” “Maybe the shaman,” the thief taker answered. Milo surmised that was the trollkin who had attempted to light the pyre. He was back on his feet, but unlike the others he was hanging back near the woodpile and the corpse. “If you can keep the others occupied for a few moments, perhaps I can get to him,” Eilish said. Whatever Eilish meant to try, lingering here was clearly reckless. Milo could scarcely believe that he’d come back—or that he now meant to stand his ground. Counterbalancing the fear, however, was a surprising, half-hysterical sensation that he found exhilarating. Down the promenade that curved away to the right, one contingent of Backbreakers had reached the top of the stairs. Howling and firing off a shot or two, the enraged trollkin charged. Milo tossed the grenade Colbie had told him not to throw before, but he tried to land it short. If he’d judged properly, the blast likely wouldn’t kill, but maybe it would knock the oncoming Backbreakers back and give them reason to reconsider their current course of action. He grabbed a smoke grenade.

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CHAPTER 10 Gardek

Gardek was fixated on the Backbreakers swarming up the central

stairs, but he could hear explosions behind him as Milo’s grenades banged off to the sides. Ten a closer, different boom shook the air; Colbie had probably fired the slug gun over the heads of the trollkin advancing on one flank or another. With luck, the big round screaming over their heads would balk them for a moment. Gardek noticed that neither of his comrades had thrown a grenade or taken a shot at the Backbreakers climbing up at him. He supposed he appreciated the implied compliment, but it wasn’t going to make the next few seconds any easier. He waited until the trollkin below him had nearly closed the distance, and then he bellowed and charged down at them. He hoped the berserker tactic would catch them by surprise. It seemed to. His shield rammed into one Backbreaker and flung him backward. He flicked the hammer and broke a jaw, then swung again and smashed a forearm. For humans, such injuries would have been potentially crippling, but they were far less serious to a trollkin. Ten his foes began striking back, cuts and thrusts clanking and scraping against his armor. He pivoted to attack a swordsman, and in the close quarters one of his armor’s spikes ripped a gash in the chest of a different foe. So far, so good—but his good fortune couldn’t last.

CHAPTER 11 Eilish

T he

second assault had begun. Eilish waited until all the Backbreakers except for the shaman had either rushed up onto the same walkway level as the intruders or climbed up the central staircase to confront Gardek. Ten, insisting to himself that it wasn’t that long a fall, he scrambled over the balustrade, hung by his hands for an instant, and dropped. He’d read the way to survive a fall unharmed was to relax, land with knees bent, and topple over sideways as opposed to forward or backward. Despite following that protocol, he still landed hard enough to rattle his bones. After he’d weathered the jolt and took stock, however, he judged he’d survived with nothing worse than a few bruises. He scrambled to his feet, drew his sword, and charged the shaman—who saw him coming and snatched a pistol out of a cloak pocket. Eilish veered in an effort to dodge. Te gun flashed and banged, and the hasty shot missed. Te arcanist was now close enough to see the shaman was old, with a stooped frame and a craggy chin. rollkin didn’t slow down much with age, unfortunately; he was still likely stronger than the human rushing him. An awkward flailing blow revealed he was no longer as quick as he might once have been. Eilish sidestepped the attack and


clouted the shaman with the pommel of his weapon. Te trollkin staggered. Eilish hit him again and dropped him to his knees. Ten he snatched a handful of quills, pulled his head back, and poised his sword to slice the shaman’s throat. “Call off your friends!” he said. Te Backbreaker swallowed. “No.” Eilish could tell the shaman didn’t want to die, but he seemed resolute. His pride was at stake. Keenly aware his partners could have only seconds left—if it wasn’t too late already—he sought to find the words that might convince him. “Did you care about the female on the pyre?” he asked. “Do want her killer punished? Tat’s why my friends and I are here! We need to examine the body so that we can catch him!” Te old trollkin thought for a brief moment. “Let me up,” he said. As Eilish did, it belatedly occurred to him to wonder if the shaman even could stop the battle raging on the elevated promenade—or stop it in time, anyway. Te trollkin hurried over to a table laden with funereal items, lifted a ram’s horn trumpet to his lips, and blew several blasts in quick succession. Tose bleating, echoing notes produced the desired effect. Eilish couldn’t make out much of what was happening above the plaza, but amid the drifting veils of gas and smoke he discerned a general cessation of motion. “Stop fighting!” the shaman shouted. “Bring the outsiders to me!” Ten he turned to Eilish. “Make good on your promise. Otherwise, you and your friends will wish we’d killed you quickly.”

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CHAPTER 12 Colbie

Colbie surrendered her bloody dagger and wrench to a trollkin

armed with a mace. Te slug gun lay where she’d dropped it before the motions of battle had moved her away from it and ultimately put her back against a wall. As the trollkin grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the staircase, she peered about, looking for Gardek and Milo. Miraculously, both of them were still alive. Eilish had accomplished his task in time, although it was difficult to imagine how. She found out when the shaman told his fellow Backbreakers why he’d called them off. As she might have predicted, some of them looked unhappy about it. “Blood calls for blood!” snarled one trollkin. His broad mouth was pulped and bloody, and several of his teeth were missing. Colbie suspected Gardek’s hammer was responsible. Te shaman sneered. “Tey gave us a few bumps and scratches. Are you a gobber or a human to whine about such things? Jussika is dead ! Dead and unavenged! Tese people claim they can remedy that.” A voice called from the rear of the crowd. “And if they don’t, then we can kill them?” “Yes,” the shaman said, and to a degree, that mollified his fellows. Colbie looked up at Gardek. “I’m worried they’ll kill you anyway,” she whispered, “considering your history with them.”


“I never killed any of them with my own hands,” the bounty hunter replied. He had a long scrape on the blue-green hide above his left ear. “I just captured them; that was business. Tese tunnel killings . . . well, they’re something uglier. Tey might let me walk away today and hope for another chance at me tomorrow. If the schoolboy’s hunch pans out.” “Or he can come up with a good lie,” Milo said. Eilish drew himself up straight. “Let’s start by establishing the basics,” he said to the shaman. “Where exactly did you find Jussika’s body?” “In the tunnel that runs off to the north,” the old Backbreaker said. “If she’d gotten just a few steps closer to home, the lookout might have seen the attack.” He frowned. “But how did you find out about it?” “I have my ways,” Eilish said. Evidently he wasn’t yet ready to reveal that they had actually intruded on the kriel simply because Zhag suggested the tunnel killer might be a trollkin. Given the temper of the crowd, Colbie approved of the arcanist’s circumspection. Eilish continued. “And exactly when did you find her?” “Tree nights ago, late,” the shaman said. “She’d been to the Queen of Skulls to bet on the beast fights and play rum luck.” “Interesting.” Eilish gestured to the corpse. “May I?” Te old trollkin nodded. Colbie followed Eilish as he clambered onto the unlit pyre to examine the body. He was the one who’d studied forensics, but their lives were at stake. Anyone could miss something under such pressure, and another set of eyes on the problem couldn’t hurt. Evidently Gardek and Milo felt the same way, for they trailed along as well. Unfortunately, when she looked down at the shredded husk,

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crisscrossed with dozens of gashes and reeking of death, no secret revealed itself to her eyes. She just felt angry and sick. Eilish, though, might be having better luck. Down on one knee beside the body, he fingered his chin and murmured, “Hmm.” “What do you see?” she asked. “It was definitely our man who killed her,” the arcanist said. “You can see—or at least I can—how the same hooked instrument ripped the flesh. So forcefully and repeatedly that, the hardiness of a trollkin notwithstanding, she couldn’t survive the assault.” “We need a lot more than that,” Milo said. “Patience, “Patience,”” Eilish said. “I’m “I’m getting to it. Aside from race, what differentiates this victim from the cadavers I examined in the morgue is that not quite all the wounds are slashes.” He pointed to a vertical ver tical row of four indentations on the side si de of Jussika’ Jussika’s face. “I’m picturing a blade with a studded guard, like a trench knife. Te killer cuts once and then again, this time with a backhand stroke. But he misjudges the distance, or his victim moves into the blow. Instead of the blade landing, the studs do.” “He could have been wearing a knuckle-duster,” Gardek said, but then he immediately shook his head. “No, it would have made his grip on the blade clumsy, and you wouldn’t bother with a knuckle-duster if you meant to cut someone to pieces. Not bad, schoolboy.” “Especially “Especially since skull crusher cr usher hilts aren’t aren’t all that common outside ou tside the military,” Eilish said. He rose and faced the shaman. “Sir, you may not like hearing this, but I believe the killer is a trollkin. He uses an unusual dagger or short sword. Te weapon hooks downward, opposite the way a cutlass curves, and has a studded bell guard.” Te Backbreakers looked around, at first suspiciously, but then in perplexity. perplexity. At length, one growled, “None of us has a knife like li ke that.” “Tey think they can turn us against one another,” said another.

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“Get them!” called a third, and the kriel began to close in on Colbie and her partners from every side. “Ten the murderer doesn’t wear the blade when he isn’t out killing!” Eilish said. But the trollkin weren’t listening. Colbie opened her greatcoat. She grabbed a screwdriver and sought to pass it to Milo. Te alchemist, alchemist, however, didn’ didn’t notice. He was busy peering pee ring at the dents on the corpse’s face. “Not a skull crusher,” he said. “Rings.” “Damn,” Eilish said with a frown. “I think you’re right. I should have caught that.” Gardek cursed under his breath and shared a look of recognition with Milo, and they both nodded at a shared idea. Te alchemist jumped up and shouted, “Stop! We were wrong! But now we know who the killer really is!” Still, none of the Backbreakers listened. Bellowing a battle cry, Gardek sprang off the pyre and lunged at the nearest trollkin. His captors had confiscated his hammer and shield, but they hadn’t divested him of his armor. Arms upraised, he was poised poised to tear into the advancing advancing trollkin trollkin using the spikes spikes that jutted jutted from from his his wrists wrists and fore forearms arms.. Perhaps mindful of the prowess the thief taker had displayed only minutes before, the other trollkin hesitated. “Listen, damn you!” Gardek roared, spittle flying from his mouth. “We’re telling you, we know now who killed Jussika! What’s even bigger and stronger than a trollkin?” “An ogrun?” the shaman asked. Gardek nodded. “Right. And we’ve just figured out that the killer wears wears a ring on every finger finger. Does Does anyone anyone know know of an ogrun like that?” “Natak Warbiter!” called a female in the crowd. Te bounty hunter nodded. “Right again.” Eilish turned to Milo. Tough the arcanist was trying to maintain

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his usual air of composure, Colbie thought that beneath the surface she could see relief at being rescued mingled with chagrin at having arrived at a false conclusion. “Catch me up,” Eilish said. “Who precisely is Natak Warbiter?” “He works for the Patient Weavers,” Milo replied. Colbie had heard of them. Tey were yet another of the Undercity’s Undercity’s several crime syndicates. “Te last I heard, he was keeping order and collecting debts for the Braggart’s Smile. Tat’s their gambling house. He has a reputation for enjoying bloodshed.” Meanwhile, the Backbreakers were muttering to one another. “You’ “Y ou’re re just guessing!” guessin g!” one of them eventually eventuall y called. “One moment, one of us is the killer. Te next, it’s some ogrun!” “No!” Eilish said. “Please, just listen! From the start, people assumed a lunatic is murdering random targets of opportunity. Te savagery of the attacks gives that impression, and it fooled me as well. well.” He gave Gardek Gardek an apologetic apologetic look. “But one fact doesn doesn’t fit that assumption: more than half the victims were leaving the Queen of Skulls. Jussika was, and my partners and I know of an instance in which the murderer passed right by one potential victim to run down another—who I’ve learned had likewise been to the Queen of Skulls.” Te shaman frowned. “You’re saying Natak’s out to make people afraid to go to one gaming house so they’ll go to its rival instead?” “Te Knotted Cord and the Patient Weavers have a history of trying to undermine each other,” Gardek said. “Ten we need to find Natak,” the shaman said. Colbie took a breath. “No. My partners and I do.” Te trollkin of the kriel started to protest, and she shouted over them. “Tis is our manhunt, and we have the right to finish it! You You wouldn would n’t even know about Natak if not for us.” “We’re working for Lon Kurgan, and he wants us to deliver the

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killer alive if possible,” Gardek added. “You have my word: if we manage that, I’ll get you an invitation to watch whatever the Knotted Cord does to him.” Te Backbreakers stood and mulled over the offer. Eventually discerning a consensus, the shaman said, “All right. When you put it that way.”

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CHAPTER 13 Milo

T he stack of crowns in front of Milo was growing, and he wished he could stop playing before the inevitable decline began. He’d never had a taste for gambling and didn’t see how anyone with a brain could enjoy subjecting himself to the whims of simple chance. He preferred the surprises that occurred in the laboratory—at least they revealed the secrets of natural law. wo tables over, it looked like Gardek was losing. Judging from his grin, however, his run of bad luck hadn’t diminished his zest for the game. Te trollkin’s enjoyment was difficult to understand given that he manifestly did have a brain. In fact, Gardek was all right. So were Eilish and Colbie. For a moment, Milo smiled at the memory of what they’d done in the Backbreakers’ lair. It had been pure insanity, but they’d come through it alive. Unmasking and capturing Natak Warbiter should prove easy by comparison. Or at least it should if Natak would only cooperate. Milo and his partners had kept the ogrun under surveillance for three days, and Natak had perversely refused to take up a distinctive hook-shaped blade, disguise himself in a malodorous cloak and hood, and venture forth to find a victim. In fact, he hadn’t left the Braggart’s Smile for the past two days, eating and sleeping in what amounted to a Patient Weavers’ stronghold. By Milo’s reckoning, however, that wrinkle in their plans shouldn’t


prevent them from collecting the reward. With some scheming, it should be possible to sneak some poison into Natak’s food or drink. He’d die, Milo and his partners would inform Kurgan they’d dispatched the murderer, and that would be that. Gardek, Eilish, and Colbie objected to this sensible approach. Tough convinced of Natak’s guilt, they had some inexplicable qualms about moving against him until they had secured some hard proof. So the four hunters watched and waited. Across the room, a man cursed and stood up from his game of black argus. Closer to hand, a buxom woman in a low-cut, clinging gown blew on another gambler’s dice, which he then sent clattering down the table. “High tide!” he crowed. Milo’s inspected his new hand, which included a mix of blades, wheels, and skulls without any pairs or even high cards. He mucked as soon as it was his turn to bet. Finally, Natak headed for the exit. Te ogrun was even taller and burlier than Gardek, with a nub of a nose and a slab of jaw beneath a broad mouth. Unlike the trollkin, he had black hair and bushy, upswept eyebrows; a brownish tone to his skin; and prominent, pointed ears. Somehow these features made him seem a bit more human despite his size. Tey didn’t, however, make him any less intimidating to members of any of the other races currently patronizing the Braggart’s Smile. His size, the great axe dangling in his fist, and his perpetual sneer ensured that everyone—even his own kind and other Patient Weavers—scurried to clear a path for him across the crowded room. However eager Milo was to follow him out the door, he knew he mustn’t be obvious about it. After silently counting to ten, he rose, stretched, tossed a tip to the dealer, and scooped the rest of his winnings off the table.

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Once outside, he cast about until he located Natak, who was striding without any particular haste or furtiveness down the block of more-or-less illicit businesses the Weavers operated in this particular cavern. At the moment, the ogrun was passing a ramshackle structure housing a thieves’ market. Gardek emerged from the Braggart’s Smile and caught up with Milo, and they set after Natak together. “He would go now,” the trollkin said. “I’d just set a trap for the fellow two seats to the right.” Milo snorted. “Tis is a bit more important.” “If Natak really is going hunting. We don’t know that.” “But I think he is. Don’t you?” Gardek grinned. “o tell the truth, yes. Sometimes you can feel it when something’s going to happen.” Once Natak had passed just beyond the thieves’ market, Colbie wandered out of it. Subsequently, Eilish emerged from an establishment where the patrons smoked powdered fungus of the sort Zhag and Walu grew. Te stuff was a potent hallucinogen, but the arcanist was clear-eyed and steady on his feet. Evidently he’d avoided inhaling much of the fumes, and the counteragent Milo had supplied had neutralized whatever did enter this system. Milo and his partners hadn’t all kept watch over Natak every moment of the past few days. Tey had needed to sleep, and it might have attracted attention if any of them had spent too much time lurking in this patch of Patient Weaver territory. He was glad they were all here now. He doubted it would take all four of them to subdue their quarry, but it felt right that they should finish their task together. Natak departed the block of businesses and tramped onward into a more sparsely used section of tunnel. With less traffic, Milo worried that the ogrun would notice people were following him, but Natak never looked back. Maybe he was too eager to retrieve

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his hook and shroud and get on with the slaughtering. Te passage forked. Natak shook a container of bottled light to life and took the branch to the right—a narrow, descending path that appeared to see little traffic. A good place for a murderer to stash his gear, Milo thought. Groping their way along in the dark, he and his companions relied on Natak’s light and the tramping of his feet to guide them. Ten the rhythmic noise stopped. Milo peeked around a bend. Natak was standing at the far end of a larger, oval-shaped space lit by three other lanterns. Te ogrun still had his back to his pursuers, which meant he was facing the wall of the cul-de-sac. “I don’t see the cloak or the murder weapon,” Eilish whispered, frustration in his voice. “What in Morrow’s name is he doing?” “I’m tired of skulking about,” Milo said. “Let’s take him prisoner and beat the truth out of him.” He pulled a grenade from his bandolier. Ten something banged and stung his thigh, and a cloud of gas blossomed around him and his companions. As he started choking, he wondered if his own grenade had detonated due to some flaw in its manufacture. But the metal orb was still intact in his hand.

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CHAPTER 14 Gardek

Gardek tried to keep from breathing in the gas. It wasn’t easy; he’d

been exhaling when the grenade exploded. He could barely see. In addition to burning his airways, the fumes stung his eyes and blurred his vision with tears. Muddled as he was, instinct told him it would be a bad idea to move forward into the open space with Natak. He began to stumble back the way he and his partners had come instead. Another grenade banged, and more vapor surged up in front of him. At the same instant, a firearm flared and barked, and a round whizzed between his arm and his side. Somebody—probably a few somebodies—had shadowed Gardek and the others down the narrow tunnel even as they were shadowing Natak. As long as those attackers kept throwing grenades, the way out would be impassable to everyone but Milo in his gas mask, and the alchemist would likely get himself shot if he tried to escape. Gardek stumbled back toward Natak and untainted air. On the way he grabbed hold of the helplessly coughing Eilish and dragged him along. Tey blundered out into the open just ahead of Colbie and Milo. Te alchemist now wore his gas mask. Tat was the only positive development. Now that they’d been herded into the oval space, it was plain that, far from being oblivious to his pursuers, Natak had actually lured them into an ambush.


Trough tear-blurred eyes, Gardek saw several figures emerge from niches at floor level that had been invisible from the tunnel. Another perched on a ledge partway up a wall. Gardek told himself he and his partners could win this fight despite the odds. Tey’d survived the Backbreakers, after all. “Fight!” he bellowed, or tried to. He coughed before he’d quite gotten the word out. Natak rushed him. Gardek snatched his war hammer off his back and readied himself. Te ogrun’s initial axe stroke rang on his shield. Gardek struck back, and Natak caught the blow on the head of the axe. Tey traded several more attacks, neither scoring. Ten Gardek struck another blow much like his first one. If it drew the same parry, maybe he could knock the axe out of the ogrun’s grip or break the head of the weapon loose from the shaft. Unfortunately, Natak didn’t defend in the same way. He stepped forward on the diagonal, and Gardek’s blow missed. Now in too close to chop with the axe, the ogrun rammed the top of it into his opponent’s jaw. Te jolt sent Gardek reeling backward. He was lucky it hadn’t snapped his neck, but his luck was unlikely to hold. He couldn’t catch his breath or his balance, and he couldn’t position his shield where he needed it to be—and Natak was lunging for a follow-up attack. Ten Milo rushed in on Natak’s flank. He held a grenade in his left hand, but it was the vial in his right that he evidently meant to throw; he couldn’t have used the bomb without catching Gardek in the detonation. A firearm banged overhead. Milo jerked and went rigid as the shot hit him, momentum pitching him forward onto his face. Before he had a chance to stand up—assuming he even could—a

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ruffian scrambled over to him and bashed him with a club. Gardek glanced up. As expected, he saw Canice Gormleigh perched on a ledge above the melee in her intricately tooled red and yellow armored greatcoat. all and solidly built for a human woman, with a round, freckled face framed by an unruly mane of coppery curls, Canice was a mercenary who presently ran the Braggart’s Smile for the Patient Weavers. She was also a veteran of the celebrated Llaelese Order of the Amethyst Rose, mentored by Lyto Divacci himself. Canice was a gun mage, a crack shot who’d mastered the art of infusing her rounds with arcane power. Grinning at having felled Milo, she peered about, no doubt seeking another target. Her presence here made a bad situation worse, but Gardek couldn’t do anything about it at the moment. At least Milo’s attempt to rush to his aid and Canice’s shot in response had diverted Natak’s attention for a critical instant. Gardek got his feet under him and finally managed to fill his lungs without coughing out half the breath. He readied his shield and charged. Te shield smashed into Natak and threw him stumbling backward. Putting every iota of his weight and strength behind the blow, Gardek pivoted at the hip and swung his hammer. Overhead, Canice’s magelock pistol cracked . Te rune-inscribed bullet slammed into Gardek’s shoulder, ruining his attack against Natak and blasting him off his feet entirely. Te trollkin crashed to the ground. An instant later, a huge weight pinned him to the floor. Dazed, Gardek looked up to see Natak kneeling on his chest, a mallet-sized fist with a row of massive steel rings hurtling down.

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CHAPTER 15 Eilish

Gardek had hauled Eilish out of the gas-filled tunnel, and Milo

had done the same for Colbie. Still, it took the arcanist several precious seconds to cough the noxious fumes from his lungs and blink the tears from his eyes. He managed it just in time to see Natak’s fist hammer down on Gardek’s face. Eilish was glad the ogrun hadn’t opted to finish off the bounty hunter with his great axe, but Gardek still wasn’t likely to get up anytime soon. With Milo down as well, that left just Colbie and Eilish to carry on the fight. He told himself they still had a chance. Milo’s grenades had incapacitated all but one of the common toughs, not counting whoever had tossed the gas bombs and fired a couple of shots down the tunnel. With luck, those rogues would hold their position for the time being. Natak jumped off Gardek’s motionless form and snatched his axe from the ground. In a blur of motion, Canice thrust her spent weapon back into the holster on her hip, reached inside her greatcoat, and snatched another magelock pistol from a shoulder rig. Expensive as such firearms were, it came as an unpleasant surprise that she had a second one. She could likely aim and squeeze the trigger before Eilish could focus his will for a spell. Perhaps concluding the same thing, Colbie fired her slug gun at the ledge.


Tat left Eilish to deal with Natak. As the ogrun raised his axe and charged, Eilish drew on his magic. Glowing blue runes danced around his outstretched hand. Colbie’s shot banged into something. Eilish didn’t dare look away from his own target to see if she’d hit hers. Natak had almost closed to striking distance when Eilish sent two bolts of azure force stabbing into the ogrun’s chest. Natak staggered and fell. Hoping the brute would stay down for the duration, Eilish turned and saw Canice floundering half-buried in a mound of dirt. Colbie’s round had evidently struck the ledge where the gun mage stood, dumping her on the ground amid a little avalanche of earth. Heavy wrench raised, Colbie charged her sister mercenary. Te last remaining ruffian sprinted to intercept her with a short sword outstretched, but Colbie was ready for him. She turned, knocked the blade away with her own makeshift weapon, and then whipped the wrench down into his knee. Bone crunched, and he squawked and fell. She dashed onward. Unfortunately, that brief delay gave Canice time to collect herself and rear up out of the dirt. When Colbie struck, the redhead swayed backward to avoid the blow. Canice struck back instantly, reversing a pistol in her grip to crack the butt against Colbie’s forehead. Te dark woman reeled. Straining to muster any more arcane power from the reserves of his own stamina, Eilish stretched out his hand at the gun mage. Perceiving the threat, Canice turned, lined up the shot, and pulled the trigger. o no effect. Perhaps her spill down the wall had gotten dirt in the firing mechanism, or maybe she’d damaged the gun by using it as a club. Whatever the cause, it didn’t fire. Meanwhile, runes encircled Eilish’s hand. Even as he savored the

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thought of victory, a bang heralded a new cloud of choking vapors. Te foes back down the tunnel hadn’t stayed put after all. His throat and lungs burning, Eilish doubled over, hacking. With his concentration broken, the runes disappeared. He tried to get clear of the gas, but the two or three staggering steps he managed didn’t do the job. He kept on convulsively emptying his lungs until everything went dark.

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CHAPTER 16 Colbie

Colbie woke to a pounding head along with a raw throat and

stinging nasal membranes. She couldn’t remember what had finally rendered her unconscious: a knock on the head or the gas. From the way she felt, it could have been either—or both. Nausea twisted her guts. She tried to lean over, but something held her upright. All she could manage was to tip her head forward and retch. When she finished fouling herself, she discerned that after relieving her of her gear, someone had tied her to a chair. She tried to spit away the taste of bile and then, her vision blurring and doubling, peered about. She was in a nondescript room along with her three partners, all disarmed and secured. Te Patient Weavers had all but cocooned Gardek in padlocked chain and left him on the floor, no doubt worried that ropes and a wooden chair wouldn’t hold him. Eilish had a gag in his mouth and his hands tied behind him; his head lolled forward. Milo appeared to be unconscious as well. Although she didn’t know where the alchemist had been hit, she remembered seeing Canice Gormleigh shoot him. Te gun mage had also shot Gardek in the shoulder; his shirt was rusty with blood where the cloth showed under the chain. His deep-set eyes were open, though. “Eilish and Milo?” she croaked. “Alive,” Gardek said. His bruised, swollen jaw slurred his speech.


“I saw them breathing.” His wide mouth twisted. “Damn it, we stood up to all those Backbreakers!” “Te Patient Weavers took us by surprise,” she answered. Te room’s one door opened, and a cheery contralto voice said, “I like to think there was more to it than that, love, but I’ll admit, it was a close one. You can take comfort in that as you pass to Urcaen.” With that, Canice sauntered into the room. She had a freshly scrubbed look, and her long red tresses stuck out every which way. She must have taken a bath to rid herself of her covering of dirt. She hadn’t put her armored coat back on, but she wore a magelock pistol strapped to each hip and a conventional handgun under each arm. Te myriad pockets in her vest and breeches might well contain little holdout pistols and extra ammunition. Not that she was likely to need weapons or bullets in the present circumstances—especially with Natak following along behind her. Te ogrun moved stiffly, as though Gardek’s shield had bruised his ribs or Eilish’s magical blasts had left him with some comparable pain. His expression, a sort of eager sneer, promised worse to the captives. Steel rings gleamed on the fingers of either hand. “Why would you kill us?” Colbie asked. “Why even attack us? We didn’t do anything to you.” Te gun mage chuckled. “Please! You’ve been stalking Natak here for days, and I doubt you were bashfully admiring him from afar. He has his virtues, but grace and beauty are not among them.” As she and the ogrun neared Colbie, her nose wrinkled at the stink of vomit. “Here’s how this is going to work,” Canice said. “Te truth buys you and your friends an easy death. If you lie or refuse to answer my questions, Natak will go to work on you; he’s quite good at wringing things out of people. It’s usually coin owed to our employers, but he can also squeeze out information.”

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“All right,” Colbie said. “We were shadowing Natak.” His fists clenching, the ogrun made a noise like an animal growling. Canice gave Colbie a nod. “Tat’s a good start, if not a good idea. Why were you following him?” “Because he’s the tunnel murderer,” Colbie said. “My partners and I believed he was committing the crimes because the Patient Weavers wanted him to. But if that isn’t true—if he’s been acting on his own—then you should thank us for unmasking the mad-dog killer in your midst.” Canice and the ogrun exchanged glances. Both looked puzzled, and Colbie felt a surge of hope. With her captives at her mercy, the gun mage at least had no reason to feign perplexity. “What makes you think that ?” Canice asked. “Yes, he has a reputation for relishing the bloodier aspects of his work, but still. I heard the killer stinks like a thrall or some other nasty thing.” “We think it’s just his clothes that stink,” Colbie said. “Te smell is part of his disguise.” “We established the killer is big like an ogrun,” Gardek interjected from the floor. “Ten we found marks on one of the victims that show he wears rings like Natak’s.” Colbie continued. “We also learned that he favors victims who patronize the Queen of Skulls—the Braggart’s Smile’s rival. We surmised Natak was targeting those gamblers to ruin the Queen of Skulls’ business and drive trade your way. I still believe that. But from the way you’re acting, maybe you didn’t know about it. Maybe you wouldn’t have approved of such tactics.” It belatedly occurred to Colbie that if Canice hadn’t known, she’d just given Natak reason to strike down his boss, kill the prisoners, and then concoct a story blaming them for the gun mage’s death. But laying out the truth was the only play she had, and the ogrun

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looked more bemused than homicidal. Canice turned to Natak and put her hand on the pistol holstered on her right hip. “It appears I need to kill you for exceeding your authority,” she said. Te ogrun shrugged. “I understand.” Ten the two of them burst out laughing. Canice turned back to Colbie. “Forgive me. It was cruel to raise your hopes, but I couldn’t resist. Like everyone else in the Undercity, I’ve paid at least a little heed to news of the killings. Tere were some three weeks ago, weren’t there?” “Yes,” Colbie said. “Ten Natak couldn’t possibly have done them. He was downriver on Weaver business. You’ve been stalking the wrong scoundrel.” Gardek said, “We wouldn’t have hurt him. We only fought back to defend ourselves. We weren’t going to move on him until we had proof.” “Proof to satisfy who?” Canice asked. “Who hired you four to find the killer, bounty hunter?” Scowling, Gardek hesitated. At length, he said, “Lon Kurgan.” Te gun mage nodded. “Tat makes sense, and I believe it’s everything I needed to know. Natak, will you do the honors? Quickly, if you please. I gave my word.” “I didn’t give mine,” the ogrun growled. But he moved behind Colbie and took her aching head between his hands. She realized she was one twist away from a broken neck. “Wait!” she said. “It’s as Gardek said. We wouldn’t have attacked Natak without proof of guilt.” “Tat speaks well of you,” Canice said. “But you hurt some of my people after we sprung our trap, and they’re the kind to hold a grudge. A couple of them were already nursing one against the thief taker here. Even if none of that were so, a criminal syndicate can’t

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have people spying on it as it conducts business. So you see how it is. You blundered, and you have to accept the consequences.” “But how did we blunder?” Gardek asked. “At least tell us that before we die. I’m good at my trade. I know how to watch someone discreetly. I told my partners how to do it. But you spotted us anyway.” “o be honest, luck played a hand in it,” Canice answered. “We started looking for people stalking Natak after we received a message warning that somebody meant to kill him.” “Who sent it?” Colbie asked. “It was anonymous,” the gun mage said. “Left tacked to a wall.” “When did you receive it?” “Tree days ago.” “Enough stalling,” Natak said. He shifted his grip. His rings were cold and hard, his calluses rough. “Are you blind?” Colbie cried. “Don’t you see that the tunnel killer sent the note?” “No,” Natak said. His hands tightened on her head. “Stop,” Canice said. “Maybe I do see. What are you thinking, my dear?” Colbie continued. “Te killer is wily enough to employ a sort of layered disguise. Te hooded cloak conceals his face and form. Te stink makes some people think he’s undead or least unusual. If you don’t believe that, maybe you spot the finger rings he’s wearing. Tat observation takes you down another false trail.” “One leading to Natak,” Canice said. “And the killer made sure you’d be lying in wait for us if we followed it,” Gardek added. “He must not like that we’re hunting him.” “How would he know?” the redhead asked. Gardek shifted inside his chains and made them clink. “We’ve questioned a lot of people.”

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“Interesting,” Canice said. “But none of that changes the unfortunate fact that you injured some of my men and generally stuck your noses where they don’t belong.” “Well, it should!” Colbie said. Canice cocked her head, tousled curls bouncing. “How so?” “Once the fight broke out, we might have killed Natak.” Te ogrun snorted. “Unlikely.” “Or killed someone,” Colbie said. “Te real point is that if we disrespected the Patient Weavers by poking around, the murderer disrespected you more by maneuvering us all into a situation where you’d end up solving his problem for him. Don’t you resent being manipulated to serve as his pawns? Don’t you think your superiors will resent it?” Canice sighed. “You have a point. I suppose it falls to me to track down the murderer and avenge the insult. As if I don’t already have enough to do.” “You’ll never find him,” Gardek said. “You’re one of the deadliest fighters in Corvis, but you’re not a criminal hunter. I am, and my partners have skills they can turn to the purpose as well.” “Where were all these wonderful skills when the killer tricked you into chasing after the wrong person?” the gun mage asked. “Coincidental or manufactured, false leads are part of the game,” the trollkin said. “You just follow one to the next—eventually one of them takes you to your quarry.” “Tink about it,” Colbie said. “Won’t even the Braggart’s Smile’s business ultimately fall off if frightened people avoid the Undercity altogether? Aren’t even you Patient Weavers tired of looking over your shoulders as you walk the caverns? Wouldn’t it be better for everybody down here if my partners and I stopped the killings?” Green eyes narrowed, Canice unholstered the magelock pistol on her right hip, slipped her finger into the trigger guard, and idly

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twirled the weapon. “Hmm,” she said. “What to do, what to do?” “Don’t listen to her nonsense,” Natak growled. “If the tunnel killer needs catching, we can do it ourselves.” “It would be nice to think so, but the trollkin has a point,” the gun mage said. “We don’t practice his trade, and besides, we have a business to run.” She looked at Colbie. “If you and your friends can get up, you can all walk out of here. My men won’t like it, but I won’t let them interfere. If somebody is too badly hurt to leave under his own power, I can’t imagine him being much use in a manhunt. So he’ll have to stay behind—and my fellows will vent their feelings on him.” She flashed a grin. “Fair enough?” “I’ll get everybody walking,” Colbie said. “Tis is stupid,” Natak said. His grip clamped down like a vise. Agony stabbed through Colbie’s skull. Only for a moment, though, and then he let her go.

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CHAPTER 17 Milo

Eilish’s former schoolmate Gwen Farstaff, a petite doctor with

short brown hair and a pretty, heart-shaped face that wore a scowl when she concentrated, gave the alchemist some good news. “You’re lucky. Te shot went clean through without hitting anything important.” Milo hissed and stiffened at the sting of the alcohol she was using to clean the wound. “Right,” he gritted. “I feel lucky.” Despite his sarcasm, he supposed he was. Lucky that Canice Gormleigh, hoping to question his crew, had shot to wound rather than to kill. Lucky that Colbie and Gardek had ultimately talked the gun mage into letting them all go. When Milo thought about it, he’d been fortunate to escape death three times: first in the Queen of Skulls, again in the Backbreakers’ lair, and finally facing the Patient Weavers. He wasn’t superstitious, but he didn’t have to subscribe to the swampie notion that things happened in threes to suspect he might have used up all the luck he had coming. Judging from the glum expressions on the faces of his partners, he might not be the only one who felt that way. Te physician finished wrapping linen bandages around his arm, and he got up from the chair. Bare to the waist, Gardek took his place, sitting backward to provide easier access to the bloody hole in his shoulder. “My bullet didn’t go all the way through,” the trollkin growled.


“You’ll have to dig.” “I see that,” Farstaff replied. She insinuated the tip of a probe into the wound. Gardek’s jaw clenched. “We have to decide what our next move will be,” Eilish said. He was the only one of them who hadn’t been bloodied or even bruised, but the grenade gas had reduced his voice to a rasping whisper. “Do we even have a next move?” “I was wondering that myself,” Milo said. Colbie spoke up. Her forehead bore a good-sized lump, and the stink of dried puke on her shirt contended with the sharp, antiseptic smell of the alcohol Dr. Farstaff was using. “When Canice and Natak had us tied up, Gardek said there’s always another lead to follow.” Te thief taker grunted and then gasped as the probe slid in deeper. “I would have said nearly anything to get out of those chains.” “But wasn’t it true?” Colbie asked. “I’ve always believed it,” Gardek said. “Tat doesn’t mean we ought to go chasing more leads, not in the shape we’re in.” “Tere it is,” the physician murmured. She picked up a pair of forceps. “I hate the thought of starting all over from the beginning,” Eilish said. “I was sure we’d tracked down the killer, but in truth, we’re no further along than when we met.” Colbie frowned. “I don’t think that’s true. Even if it were, we’ve promised a lot of people we’d catch the murderer.” Milo shrugged. Te motion sent a twinge of pain through his arm. “We—or you—can tell Rorke we gave it a good try. As for the Knotted Cord, the Backbreakers, and the Patient Weavers . . . I don’t plan on going near any of them anytime soon.” “Look,” the dark woman said, “we’re tired and hurting. It’s demoralizing that the killer made fools of us and Canice and her men defeated us. But there’s more to this than simply staying

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on the good side of some powerful people. Lives are at stake.” Eilish smiled a crooked smile. “Yes—ours.” Colbie looked the arcanist in the eye. “You’re no coward, and I believe you care that innocent people are being butchered. But even if you don’t, what about the reward?” “Tere’s always another bounty,” Gardek said. Dr. Farstaff finished extracting the bullet from his shoulder and dropped it clinking into a pan. “Part of my reward is a favor only Lieutenant Rorke can provide,” Colbie said. “But never mind. I don’t expect that to matter to the rest of you. Consider this, though: if we quit now, we have to live with the knowledge that we were truly beaten. Not by the Weavers. By the killer.” “You’re saying we should further risk our lives for the sake of our pride ?” Eilish rasped. “Yes,” Colbie answered. “Your pride in your intelligence and your skills. I don’t believe you, out of all of us, would be able to stand knowing the murderer outsmarted us.” Te arcanist laughed for a moment, and then his mirth started him coughing. When the fit subsided, he became more thoughtful. “You might be right,” he said. “I fell into the trap of looking for the simplest answer and got played. Not again. I’m still in.” “Damn you, mechanik,” Gardek said. “I can’t have people saying I balked where some prattling stick of a schoolboy pressed on. So I’ll stay as well—if you humans are sure you’re up to it.” Were they? Milo wondered. Was he? Physically and mentally? Many of Colbie’s arguments hadn’t swayed him at all. As neither a bounty hunter nor a fighting man by trade, he had comparatively little pride invested in the search for the killer. Although he did regret the fate of any future victims, people died nasty, violent deaths every day all over the world. In the grand

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scheme of things, would a few more truly matter? Other points, however, were somewhat more persuasive. He wanted the reward, and he didn’t want any of the Undercity’s gangs holding a grudge against him. Tat could make life genuinely inconvenient. Ultimately, though, it was the simple sight of the others that convinced him. He’d come to enjoy their company—bickering and contentious though it often was—and the prospect of their partnership dissolving here and now was even less appealing than the possibility of meeting further danger underground. He’d never have expected it, but he liked being part of a team. His mind evidently made up, Milo finally spoke. “Te physician will give us medicine to strengthen us and mask our pain—won’t you, Doctor? And if her remedies aren’t enough, a few doses of my preparations will keep us on our feet for a while.” Unless the drugs overtax someone’s system and bring on a collapse, he thought. But what would be the point of mentioning that? Farstaff’s scowl deepened. “I don’t recommend that,” she said, wrapping bandages around Gardek’s shoulder. “I advise bed rest for the lot of you.” Eilish gave her a grin. “It’s all right, Gwen. When I first laid eyes on Mr. Boggs, I wouldn’t have trusted him to empty a spittoon, and our recent travails haven’t improved his appearance. But he’s more reliable than he looks.”

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CHAPTER 18 Gardek

Gardek repeatedly rolled his aching shoulder as he approached

the meeting place. Te twinges were already subsiding, and it wouldn’t be long before the recuperative powers that came with being a trollkin entirely healed the wound. A long sleep, a hearty meal, and a few doses of the physician’s remedies had helped considerably. His assembled partners looked like they felt better, too, although the lump on Colbie’s forehead had turned into a livid bruise, and Milo now carried one arm in a sling. Te alchemist’s free hand proved dexterous enough to unscrew the cap of a pewter bottle. He took a swig and then offered the drink to whoever wanted it. “Maybe later,” Eilish said. Tough he was still hoarse, his voice was considerably improved. “If and when the doctor’s medicine stops working.” “Suit yourself,” Milo said. “What now? Do we just go back to touring the murder scenes?” “Unless someone has thought of something more clever,” Colbie said. Nobody had, and so they descended a ramp-like section of street. Gardek felt a pang of reluctance as he passed from Corvis’ typically anemic sunlight into shadow. He was getting tired of perpetual darkness. Tere was nothing to be done about it, however, and he and


his partners resumed their circuit. Tey visited three more of the locations marked on Eilish’s map without running into any sort of trouble—but without learning anything, either. Like most of the others, the fourth site lay in a tangle of passages that connected one populated cavern to another. When Gardek and his companions rounded a bend and the place came into view, lanterns were shining. Teir glow illuminated a half-dozen members of the Watch gathered around a motionless form on the ground. Evidently the tunnel killer had claimed a new victim just a few paces from the spot where he’d felled a previous one. Given that the murderer restricted his slaughter to a particular area, Gardek supposed it had only been a matter of time. “Tamar’s teeth!” Eilish cursed under his breath. “A fresh one.” He started forward. Gardek grabbed him by the arm. “Tose aren’t Rorke’s men,” he said, “and they aren’t going to let us poke around. We’ll have to wait until they leave.” “We can’t,” Eilish said. “I need— we need—to look things over now , before information is lost or destroyed.” He pulled free of Gardek’s grasp. “Just follow my lead.” Gardek, Milo, and Colbie exchanged glances. Ten the mechanik waved her hand in the direction of the lawmen and the body. “Lead on,” she said to Eilish.

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CHAPTER 19 Eilish

A watchman saw Eilish and his partners coming and moved to

intercept them. Squat and homely, the lawman looked a bit like a bulldog. Like his fellows, he wore a tabard over mail and carried a truncheon. A short sword hung from his belt for situations when a club was insufficient. “Are you witnesses?” he asked. “Sadly, no,” Eilish replied. “Well, you can’t pass through here,” the watchman said. “Not right now.” “I appreciate the Watch preserving the scene.” He blinked. “What, now?” “We’re investigating the murders ourselves and need to look things over. ake me to whoever’s in charge.” As Eilish could tell from the stripe adorning his cape, that turned out to be a sergeant with a sprinkle of burst capillaries mottling a sagging face with jug-handle ears. Given the growing notoriety of the murders, there might be a higher-ranking officer being summoned to the scene, and Eilish counted it lucky that personage hadn’t turned up yet. Te sergeant didn’t look very impressive. “Who are you?” he asked. “Eilish Garrity, forensics expert. My associates and I have been engaged to inquire into the tunnel murders.” “Not by the Watch. My lieutenant didn’t say anything about it.”


“Indeed, not by the Watch. By the army. Specifically, by Earl Galt Langworth, also commanding general of the 5th Division. As you might recall, one of the victims was a soldier.” Tat last bit was actually true. “I still should have heard something.” “I agree, but I’m not here to address inadequate communication among the Watch. I need your men to move away from the body so that my associates and I can take a good, unobstructed look around.” Te sergeant hesitated. “Te lieutenant needs to approve that. He’s on his way.” “By all the ascendants,” Eilish said, “what harm can come from simply looking around? Fine. We’ll do it your way. Just know that if the general should happen to ask me if the Watch is being cooperative, I’ll have to tell him that Sergeant . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” Te sergeant grimaced. He clearly resented the implied threat, but he had to take it seriously. As both an earl and an army general, Langworth had tremendous clout in the region. Te Watch was technically separate from the military, but no lowly sergeant could escape the reach of an earl. Eilish was taking a risk invoking his name, but he was counting on the fact that no one at this level would dare to bother a noble of that standing to check his story. “All right,” the sergeant said. “Look around. But I’ll be watching you.” He shouted to his men and waved his truncheon, motioning them to move away from the corpse and join him by the cavern wall. As Eilish and his companions advanced, Gardek murmured, “Not bad, schoolboy. I guess those snooty airs of yours are good for something after all.” Eilish grinned. “Your approval means the world to me. Walk the area, will you? Look for tracks or anything else that appears significant. I’ll join you once I finish with the corpse.”

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Te body was that of a middle-aged man. Repeated strokes of the murderer’s blade had ripped open enough of the face to reveal decaying molars at the very back of the mouth. Except for the fact that it was newly slain, Eilish could not immediately see any differences between this body and the ones he’d examined in the morgue. But he could smell a difference. He’d reached the body soon enough that a trace of the killer’s stench still hung in the air around it. It wasn’t the reek of decaying flesh; Eilish would have recognized that from his study of cadavers. It was something more complicated and unpleasant, and although he was sure he’d smelled it before, he couldn’t identify it. “Damn it,” he muttered, “what is that?” Milo grinned. In that moment, he was the one with the smug, superior air about him. “If you worked with chemicals, you’d know.”

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CHAPTER 20 Colbie

Even outside, the stink coming from the long, low beamhouse

made Colbie’s eyes water. It might have made her sick to her stomach as well if she’d let it. She wondered if Milo might consent to loan her his gas mask. Foulness aside, the stench was the only new clue she and her partners had discovered at the site of the latest murder. Tis tannery, the only one operating anywhere near the murder scenes, was where it pointed. She pushed open a creaking door. On the other side, illuminated by the occasional oil lamp, were vats, hides pressed into packs or stretched on racks, bags of salt, and worktables. An old man in an apron stood at one of the latter scraping the hair from a cow skin with a knife. Frowning, he squinted myopically at the intruders. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” Colbie began, “but—” “What?” the tanner barked. Colbie wondered if the old man’s sense of smell was as dull as his sight and hearing. It might be an advantage for someone in his line of work. She raised her voice. “My companions and I are sorry to interrupt your work. But you must have heard something about the tunnel murders. We’re trying to catch the killer.” Te tanner hesitated. “What’s that got to do with me?” Plainly, Colbie thought, nothing to do with you specifically. Te old


codger lacked the stature and physical prowess to be the murderer. She continued. “We have reason to believe that someone who works here may have information that could help us.” Te tanner shook his head. “I don’t think so.” “You’re probably right,” Colbie said, “but—” “What?” She remembered she needed to shout. “You’re probably right, but we need to be sure. May we speak with your workers, please?” “If you want.” Now it was the old man’s turn to yell. “Ichabod! Dowd! Get out here!” wo grubby little boys, one a year or two older and a few inches taller than the other, scurried forth from the back of the beamhouse. “My grandsons,” said the tanner, gruff pride in his voice. “Both learning the trade. Tey’ll inherit this place when I’m gone.” “Tis is everybody?” Gardek asked. “Tey’re all I need,” the tanner said. “I’m not so old I can’t still do the work.” “Damn it,” Milo cursed. “Hold on,” Eilish said to him. Addressing the tanner, he continued. “I noticed there’s no lock on the door. Anyone can walk right in.” Te old man shrugged. “Most people don’t want to.” He tapped his nose with a stained and callused finger. “But has anyone sneaked in?” the arcanist persisted. “Perhaps walked away with something that didn’t belong to him?” Te tanner frowned. “Well, now that you mention it. wice now, skins have gone missing from one of the vats. Why steal a hide that’s not finished? Why not take one that’s ready for market instead?” “It makes sense if you want to fashion a certain kind of disguise,” Eilish said. “What?” “Nothing,” Colbie said, louder. “Tank you all for your help.” She

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headed for the door, and her companions followed. Once outside, Milo said, “I suppose we could watch this place on the off chance the killer will eventually come back for more hides. Otherwise, this was another trail that led nowhere.” Colbie, Gardek, and Eilish all started to speak at once. Te trollkin gestured to Colbie. “You explain,” he said. “If I can borrow Eilish’s map,” she said. She unfolded the parchment and, for want of a better surface, spread it on the ground. She and Milo squatted before it, while Eilish and Gardek leaned over. “Let’s assume,” she began, “that a person pilfering half-cured hides—a person who didn’t want to be noticed with them—wouldn’t carry them very far. Tey’d be bulky, and they’d stink.” Milo nodded. “Tat makes sense.” “From that—” Eilish began, but Gardek silenced him with an elbow to the ribs. “Let her tell it,” the thief taker said. “Everybody’s tired of your jabber.” Colbie suppressed a smile. “From that, we can speculate that the killer has a lair somewhere nearby. We also know for certain that, for whatever reason, he does all his killing in the general vicinity of the Queen of Skulls. Let’s assume his hideout has to be somewhere near there as well.” Using her finger, she defined an oval on the map with the tannery at one end and the gambling house at the other. “We said before,” she continued, “that it would be impossible to search all the tunnels surrounding the Queen of Skulls. But this area is smaller. We could concentrate a search on the lonely parts where a killer could go to ground.” “It’ll take time,” Milo said, “but it just might work.”

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CHAPTER 21 Milo

A day of tramping back and forth and poking into one dark,

dirty, and potentially dangerous hole after another had left Milo’s wounded arm aching. He felt the weight of his gear despite frequent recourse to the liquid stimulants stowed in his pockets. Maybe loneliness had its advantages after all, especially when a man’s associates were prone to strenuous exertion based on what now felt like the thinnest of surmises. Te group’s explorations had brought them to a stretch of the Undercity that had once been occupied but now appeared deserted— much like the one where Milo had first encountered Gardek. In this case, the horrors of the Longest Night five years back were to blame. Te undead had rampaged through here slaughtering everyone before the army put them down. Gardek sighed. Milo suspected no one was meant to hear the trollkin’s heavy exhalation. Standing and peering a few paces away, Colbie and Eilish hadn’t seemed to. But the alchemist had. “Is your shoulder bothering you?” he murmured to the trollkin. “Not anymore.” Gardek hesitated as though considering whether to say more. “My brother died not far from here.” He paused again. “I’ve been hunting alone ever since—until I got stuck with you three.” Milo snorted. “Is it that bad?”


“Honestly, it’s more bearable than I expected.” Gardek managed a grin. “Of course, it would be better if the rest of us shoved the schoolboy down a hole.” As if he’d heard himself mentioned, Eilish turned around. “Tat looks like a good spot for a killer to hide.” He pointed. “Agreed,” Gardek rumbled. “Let’s search it next.” Te area in question was a junkyard. As they entered, their lantern light glinted off rusty and tarnish-free metal alike amid the general ruin. Stray bits of metal shifted and crunched under their feet, and larger masses of iron and steel loomed to either side. Some were mounds of unidentifiable scrap, while others remained recognizable: a crane lying on its side, a steam-powered pump, even a flatcar. “Tis place is a maze,” Milo said. “If it’s like most junkyards,” Colbie said, “there will be a shack somewhere inside, a place where the caretaker conducts business. Let’s start there.” Tey prowled deeper into the scrapyard, and eventually the shack emerged from the gloom. Te ramshackle structure was bigger than Milo expected, and when he and his companions entered, he saw why. Te shack’s former occupant had been more than just a caretaker: he’d been a tinkerer who restored machinery that wasn’t damaged beyond fixing. Te building was packed with tools, spare parts he’d salvaged, and half-finished projects that took up much of the floor. Despite the clutter, Colbie instantly oriented on a hulking form in the corner, a shape so large it made Gardek look small by comparison. “Hello,” she said, with a crooning note in her voice that Milo hadn’t heard before. Te focus of her attention was a rust-dappled laborjack. Te firebox, boiler, and steam turbine on its back gave it a hunchbacked

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appearance, while its dust-coated focal lenses betrayed its status as a lifeless object. “Interesting hypothesis,” Eilish said. “I’m reasonably certain, however, that even in the dark witnesses would recognize a steamjack for what it is. Notice, too, that the thing doesn’t have any arms. Tat would make swinging a blade problematic.” Colbie grinned. “I wasn’t thinking it was our killer. I was thinking I’m in need of a ’jack, they’re damned expensive, and here’s one free for the taking.” “You must be joking,” Eilish said. “Tat thing might do for a doorstop, but that’s about all.” “You’re not a mechanik,” the dark woman replied. “You can’t see what I see. But never mind. Tis isn’t why we’re here.” Spreading out, they proceeded to search the shack by lantern light. In due course, Milo discovered a heavy needle and thread, shears, and scraps of a leathery substance that had once belonged to a larger sheet. He picked one up and held it to his nose; a trace of stench still clung to it. “Tis is the place!” he called.

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CHAPTER 22 Gardek

Gardek noticed with some amusement that although neither of

them had any reason to doubt Milo’s verdict, both he and Eilish felt compelled to sniff one of the malodorous scraps for themselves. He supposed that was one way they were alike. “Satisfied?” the alchemist asked. “Yes,” Gardek said. “Now,” Colbie said, “we lie in wait here until the killer comes back—one or two of us standing watch out among the junk piles and the rest in here. We can sleep in shifts.” “Tat sounds good—if he really is coming back here,” Milo said. “I think he will,” Eilish said. “If he truly is a madman, perhaps this is the only home he has. Even if he isn’t, it’s a hiding place for those occasions when the Watch is hot on his trail and prudence dictates he go to ground.” “Let’s give it a try,” Gardek said as he cracked open the door. “I don’t mind standing watch outside.” Suddenly, seeing a hint of movement among the scrap heaps, the trollkin shut it again. “What’s wrong?” Eilish asked. “Keep your voice down!” Gardek whispered. “And hood your lanterns!” Te lights went out in quick succession. When the last one vanished, darkness enveloped the shack’s interior. “I repeat,” Eilish said, “what’s wrong?”


“I saw something moving around out there,” Gardek said. “Te murderer?” Colbie asked. “I couldn’t tell,” Gardek said. Of course, it didn’t have to be the killer. All sorts of people and creatures inhabited the Undercity. But if it were . . . “Assume it is,” Eilish said. “Do you think he spotted you?” “Again, I don’t know. I shut the door quickly hoping he wouldn’t.” “If he didn’t see anything,” Colbie whispered, “and he’s coming in, we’ve got him. But if he did see or sense something . . . ” “If he did,” Gardek said, “my hunch is that he’s spying to see whether he has just a single trespasser to kill or if he needs to abandon this place. Milo, the shack has a back door. What do you say you circle around from the left, I’ll come in from the right, and we both get behind him?” Milo made a spitting sound. “I hate it. But I’ll do it.” Tey slipped out the rear exit, then headed in opposite directions. Tough it was awkward while carrying a shield, Gardek periodically unhooded his lantern for an instant to light the way ahead. Between flickers, the memory of what he’d seen helped him creep along. When he judged he’d traveled far enough, he swung toward the front of the junkyard. Assuming he truly had glimpsed the murderer, he was now moving closer to him, albeit not straight at him—not yet. As the distance narrowed, he tried even harder to move silently and to flash the lantern less frequently. Ten something made a noise like a tremulous bark, and he heard Milo let out a squawk. A moment later, one of his grenades banged. Gardek couldn’t identify the barking sound, but if Milo was already fighting, there was no further need for stealth. Te task now was to locate the fight in the darkness amid mounds of scrap. Gardek fully unhooded his light, pulled the hammer free

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from his back, and trotted in the direction of the noise. Te lantern dangling from his wrist swung back and forth in time to his loping strides. Its light still hadn’t found Milo, not with all the junk in the way, but a second detonation led Gardek onward. Tis time it was louder: the alchemist had thrown a true bomb, not a gas grenade. Did that mean Milo was too alarmed to worry about taking their quarry alive? As Gardek started to run faster, he glimpsed a fourlegged shape racing toward his flank out of the dark. He wrenched himself around to face this new threat. Te dark-furred thing was an argus, a two-headed hound with pointed ears and a pair of extralong, downward-pointing fangs in each set of powerful jaws. Perceiving that Gardek was now ready to receive its charge, the argus stopped short. It braced itself and faced him with both its heads, drawing in a deep combined breath before unleashing an extremely loud bark. Te strangely discordant sound pierced Gardek’s brain in a way that was painful and disorienting. Te trollkin flinched involuntarily, and the hound took the opportunity to rush him. It lunged underneath his shield, caught his right leg in both pairs of jaws, and wrenched it out from underneath him. He fell hard. Snarling, the argus gnawed at his limb. It was clever enough to avoid the spikes jutting from his armor and to attack the spaces between fitted steel. Its fangs shredded the leather they encountered there like paper. As Gardek drew back his hammer to strike his assailant, a third pair of fanged jaws snapped shut on his arm and jerked, making the swing impossible. Slavering and gaping wide, a fourth set lunged for his head. Gardek heaved his shield across his body and hit the second argus in the nose of its left head. More important, the maneuver interposed

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a barrier between the beast’s fangs and his face. He tried to use the shield to shove the argus off his immobilized weapon arm, but it held on with both heads now. Blue light flickered at the edge of his vision. Bolts of force struck the back of the argus holding his arm, causing it to convulse and loosen its grip. Gardek instantly sat up and swung at the beast savaging his leg. Te hammer hit one head hard enough to make the hound recoil and scramble back into the murk. Gardek turned back toward the other argus. He was glad to discover it had stopped thrashing and died. Lantern in one hand, the other outstretched with a last luminous rune blinking out of existence above it, Eilish grinned. “Tat’s twice I’ve saved your . . . ” His eyes widened. “Your leg.” “I’m all right.” Gardek attempted to stand but couldn’t quite manage it. With a grimace, he slipped his arm out of the straps of his heavy shield and tried again. Eilish took hold of his arm and pulled, helping the trollkin to his feet. Eilish was still holding on to him. “Can you walk?” the arcanist asked. Gardek pulled away from the human. “Yes.” At least he could hobble—he hoped. “I thought you and Colbie were going to wait in the shack.” “We didn’t see much point once we heard the fight begin. She was trying to catch up with Milo. Do you know where he is?” Gardek jerked his head. “Somewhere that way.” Continuously peering about for prowling argus, the human and trollkin headed in the appropriate direction. Gardek felt faint and gave his head a shake in an effort to clear it. Colbie’s slug gun boomed, and two more grenades banged. An instant later, the mechanik and the alchemist came scrambling

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around a mound of scrap. Several argus were after them, although Gardek couldn’t really see them. Teir forms merely suggested slinking motion in the blackness. One of the double-headed hounds emerged from the gloom and unleashed its powerful, ear-splitting bark. Once again the sound triggered a painful mental spasm that staggered Gardek for a moment, making it hard for him to think. Te hound’s pack mates charged. Eilish quickly shook off his own disorientation. Pivoting, blue runes flashing in the air around him, he hurled one bolt of power after another. As far as Gardek could tell, he didn’t hit anything but scrap. But the barrage balked all the argus in mid-rush. Gardek recovered his bearings just as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Lurching off balance, he put too much weight on his injured leg and nearly fell. Meanwhile, Eilish was panting, Milo’s bandolier was out of grenades, and Colbie’s slug gun was empty. She used the weapon to point. “Back to the shack!” she said.

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CHAPTER 23 Eilish

Gardek fell down during the retreat. Milo and Colbie picked him

up and helped him along thereafter. Teir slowed pace gave the argus time to regroup and slink after them. Straining, Eilish cast more flares of force to hold them back. Sadly, he didn’t think he was seriously hurting any of them. It was too dark, and the wretched beasts were too far away, too agile, and too wily in their use of cover. He and his partners made it to the shack without anyone suffering additional injury. Te last one through the door, Eilish found a bar and shoved it into place. Colbie and Milo lowered Gardek to the floor to sit with his back against the wall, and the alchemist scrambled to secure the rear exit. Te dark woman grabbed some oily rags and started knotting them around the trollkin’s bloody leg. “In retrospect,” Eilish wheezed, “Gwen may have had a point. Perhaps we should have deferred further investigation until we were completely recovered from our previous fiasco.” Gardek grinned. “oo rough for you, schoolboy?” Ten he grunted and stiffened as Colbie’s ministrations evidently caused him pain. “What were those two-headed dogs? Milo asked. Eilish answered. “Argus. Very dangerous, and rarely tamed outside Khador. Tey’re difficult to train and prone to attacking their masters.”


Gardek said, “I thought they lost their paralyzing bark when raised in captivity.” Eilish was impressed by the trollkin’s knowledge. He nodded in acknowledgement. “Tat’s true. Tese are probably still wild. I can’t believe some maniac has a pack of them just to guard a junkyard.” “Was anybody able to tell how many there were?” Colbie asked. Teir collective silence as they each looked around at the others was answer enough. Te darkness and general confusion had prevented an accurate counting. Colbie frowned. “I couldn’t, either, but plainly there are enough to give us problems. We need help.” Eilish snorted. “We’re in an uninhabited part of the Undercity, and we didn’t tell anyone we were coming here. I wouldn’t look for rescue anytime soon.” Colbie knotted a final bandage and stood up. “Te help I mean is already here.” She gestured to the armless derelict steamjack in the corner. Gardek nodded. “If you can get it running.” “With time and some help,” Colbie said, “there’s a chance.” A distant argus bark was answered by a much louder reply from one that sounded like it was prowling around right outside. Tis bark sounded different than the ones that had frozen them; the pack was likely closing in. Te image made Eilish feel cornered and twitchy. He’d just had time to steady himself when a bang made him jump—something had pounded on the outside of the door and jolted it in its frame. A second blow followed suit. No hound had done that. Te tunnel killer had arrived. Perhaps he’d been nearby, and the pack’s barking had drawn him back. Eilish turned to Colbie. “You don’t have time,” he said. “We can barricade the doors,” Milo said. “Have you noticed how rotted-out and generally dilapidated this

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place is?” Eilish asked. “If he has to, he can knock down a wall.” “We need to distract him,” Gardek said. “Milo, I’m ready for your brews. Anything that will keep me on my feet.” Te alchemist walked over to the trollkin and extracted several vials from some of his many pockets. Gardek gulped down two, clenched his jaw, and shuddered violently. “Are you all right?” Colbie asked. “Fine,” he gritted. “Is there more?” “If you can tolerate another,” Milo said, proffering it. Eilish took the vial from the man’s hand. “Tis one’s mine. You can’t go out there by yourself.” Te bitter draught stood him up straight, quivering with energy. It also made his face hot and set his heart thumping. He breathed slowly and deeply, trying to suppress the agitation that accompanied the infusion of vitality. He couldn’t be this jittery when he left the shack, or the argus’ barking would panic him for certain. Gardek clambered to his feet. “Ready?” Eilish gestured to the cracks that were appearing in the front door. “I’d better be, hadn’t I?” “Out the back, then, and circle around. Maybe we can take him by surprise.” Milo accompanied them to the exit. Tey stepped through, and he hastily pulled it shut after them. Eilish had barely cleared the threshold when an argus emitted its strange, disorienting bark; the creature had been waiting for them. Te arcanist gasped and staggered, and his heart jolted in his chest: it felt like the combination of being startled out of a deep sleep by a loud noise while also experiencing the onset of an agonizing headache. Intent on killing him while he recovered from the sonic blast, the argus sprang down at him from atop a pile of scrap. Gardek

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lunged and swung his war hammer. Connecting with a thud, the weapon caught the beast in midair and smashed it to the ground. It dazedly tried to rise, and the bounty hunter hit it a second time. Bone crunched, and a part of its back indented; the argus twitched and eventually stopped moving. “All right,” Gardek said, “that’s two dead.” Eilish nodded. “It’s a start.” Behind them something snarled, the tone deeper than any sound Eilish had heard an argus make. He realized the thing making it had likely heard the commotion at the rear of the shed and was now rushing alongside the tumbledown structure to investigate. Gardek took a fresh grip on his hammer. Eilish raised his right hand to cast another spell. Ten the new threat hurtled around the corner, and despite himself, the arcanist faltered. In some respects, the tunnel killer was what Eilish had expected. It was big, even bigger than Gardek or Natak, and wore a crudely fashioned mantle of hide that reeked of the tanner’s vat. Te steel rings on each of its massive fingers glinted in the lantern light. Each of those fingers ended in a long claw that, Eilish realized with a twinge of chagrin, had produced the wounds he’d erroneously attributed to a peculiar hooked blade. Te cloaked figure was shaggy and bestial: its arms were too long, its hands were too large, and its legs bent backward below the knee like the rear legs of a wolf. usks like a boar’s curved up the sides of its face. It was definitely not an ogrun. In fact, it was a gorax. Once used as beasts of war, the hulking creatures were infamous for their savagery. Tis one instantly charged. His uneven steps betraying the damage to his leg, Gardek interposed himself between the oncoming brute and Eilish and swung his hammer. With startling agility, the gorax stopped to avoid the blow and

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then lunged forward to slash with its talons. Gardek retreated, but not far enough; razor-sharp talons ripped open his cheek while narrowly missing an eye. Te gorax drove forward and swiped again. Gardek slipped the second attack with a twisting maneuver, jammed the head of his hammer into the beast’s chest, and shoved. Te heave ended the gorax’s initial furious assault, but as far as Eilish could tell didn’t appear to hurt it. Te trollkin needed help. With him and the gorax in close combat, the trick would be to hit one and not the other. As Eilish began circling to achieve the best line for the purpose, an argus loped around the corner. Te hounds clearly saw the ferocious gorax as an ally. Te hound braced itself and performed its powerful bark. Eilish jerked backward to avoid the brunt of the effect, while the argus circled to come at Gardek from behind. His reflexes having saved him from the worst of the disorientation, Eilish gritted his teeth and focused his will. Runes coalesced in the air as he stretched out his hand. Mystical bolts leapt from his fingertips and pierced the argus, which fell down thrashing. As Eilish tried to determine how badly the beast was hurt, he heard another argus coming at him from behind. By the sound of it, he feared it was already too close. Te arcanist spun around and backpedaled, straining to muster the power he needed. Gaping jaws hurtled at his outstretched hand, and he imagined the dagger fangs biting the extremity off at the wrist. He was able to maintain concentration on the forming runes. A flare of arcane energy struck the argus. Te beast yipped, slid to a stop, and then ran for cover. Eilish let it go. oo many spells in quick succession had left him

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panting and dizzy, his mind aching. Te strain of magic was not something Milo’s drugs could overcome. As with any exertion, performing magic required intervals of rest, and Eilish had to conserve his energy. Right now he needed every ounce of it to fend off the twoheaded hounds slinking in the shadows as they looked for a good opportunity to attack. Like all natural predators, they preferred not to risk themselves until they could overwhelm their prey. Fortunately for Eilish, they did not know his limits. Gardek would have to contend with the gorax by himself until Colbie’s derelict steamjack was ready. Assuming it actually could be readied. Gardek had started leaving bloody footprints despite the bandages on his leg. Lurching forward, he swung his hammer. Te gorax caught the weapon mid-stroke, yanked it out of the bounty hunter’s grip, and flung it spinning into the darkness. Limping a step backward, Gardek raised his arms like a pugilist. He could still rip an adversary to pieces using the spikes jutting from his forearms, but without the hammer he’d lost the advantage of superior reach. Aside from his armor, that was the only real edge he’d enjoyed against the gorax. Te argus barked at one another, coordinating, as Eilish scanned the darkness to locate them.

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CHAPTER 24 Colbie

Even filtered through the shack’s walls, the strange baying of the

hounds outside rattled Colbie and made it difficult to think. Te sound was like nothing she had ever heard. Scowling, she struggled to block out the noise. A steam engine needed water. Fortunately, the tinkerer who’d once occupied the shack had kept a tank of it handy. Colbie turned the tap, and water began splashing into the bucket she’d placed below. A steam engine also needed coal, and there was a bin half-full of it. Te situation wasn’t hopeless. As Milo pulled his wounded arm from its sling and hurried in her direction, she clambered up on a stool to inspect the ’jack’s torso. “What do you think?” the alchemist asked. She shook her head in vexation. “Tere’s no time to open it up and check out the inside. We just have to assume there’s no hidden damage that would keep it from working. I’m hoping it was scrapped only because whoever left it couldn’t afford to replace its arms.” “All right,” Milo said, “we assume that. Now what?” “We need to seal the broken pneumatics in the shoulders; otherwise, we lose pressure.” Colbie opened her greatcoat and brought out clamps, plugs, and putty. She showed them to Milo. “Look around for more of these.” Te mechanik set to work as fast as she could. By the time she


finished with one armhole, Milo was standing ready with the supplies she needed for the other. He hadn’t found any to spare, though, and a sudden bark made her fumble her grip on a clamp. Gasping, she snatched hold of it before it could fall into the interior of the chassis. When the second armhole was done, Milo asked, “What now?” “We need to scrape off any rust that might inhibit motion and then lubricate the moving parts.” “Right. I also found the stuff for that. Let’s hope the caretaker patronized a good alchemist.” Milo uncorked a ceramic jug and passed it up to her. First, she dowsed the steam engine with the greenish contents, and then she repeated the process on the neck and leg joints. Corrosion hissed and foamed away. Afterward, Milo attended newly gleaming valves of brass and copper with the contents of an oilcan. “Now, water and coal,” Colbie said. Milo found a hose to facilitate the transfer of the former and a scuttle to aid with the latter. She lit the firebox with a match. After that, she and Milo waited. Argus barked outside, and Eilish yelled. Colbie hoped the exclamation was simply a natural byproduct of a tense situation and not because a beast had plunged its fangs into the arcanist’s flesh. Milo shook his head. “Tis is taking too long. Gardek and Eilish aren’t going to make it. I can make the water boil faster.” And risk an explosion, Colbie thought. Quickly weighing that danger against the likelihood of injury to her friends outside, she said, “Do it.” Milo brought two pewter vials out of his pockets and poured one into the other. He climbed up on the stool, added the mixture to the boiler, and then hopped down again. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Ten the ’jack shook, loose

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parts rattling. Colbie took a step backward—a reflexive gesture that would do nothing to protect her from flying shrapnel and scalding steam should the construct explode. Te shuddering subsided. A moment later, the ’jack straightened. Its bump of a head swiveled back and forth as its focal lenses surveyed its surroundings. Success! Now Colbie had to try to control it. She turned to examine a line of nonsensical words and numbers chalked on the wall beside the laborjack. She hoped it was the control lock code, recorded here by the scrapyard operator for easy reference. She flipped a switch on the automaton’s shoulder to put it into receptive mode and read off the cipher. Now she’d find out if there had been any point to all of the frantic labor of the past few minutes. “Look at me,” she said. Te dusty lenses turned in her direction. “Your name is . . . ” With urgency and the barking of the argus pressing at her, all she could think of was Eilish’s disparaging remark. “Doorstop! You will obey me. Lift your foot if you understand.” Doorstop picked up its foot and set it down again. Colbie smiled. “Good.” She looked at Milo, who drew a throwing knife from its sheath. “Let’s finish this.”

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CHAPTER 25 Milo

Milo knew that Gardek and Eilish had intended to circle around

the shack and take the tunnel killer by surprise. But the subsequent sounds of battle indicated they’d never made it that far. Te murderer had left off pounding on the front door to help the argus kill them. Colbie hastily reloaded the slug gun and then pointed at the rear exit. “Doorstop, outside! Quickly!” Te armless ’jack tramped in that direction with the two humans scurrying behind. It wasn’t particularly graceful as it made its way across the cluttered workspace. It brushed past the former caretaker’s other projects, rocking them or knocking them over entirely. But at least it didn’t get hung up on anything. It didn’t wait for anyone to open the door, either. Without breaking stride, it smashed right through the panel before coming to a halt. Looking past the automaton, Milo spied Gardek fighting the tunnel killer—if it could still be called “fighting.” Te trollkin had lost his hammer and was reeling backward with hands raised in pure defense. Te murderer followed, slashing not with some exotic hooked blade but with its claws. Milo caught his breath when he glimpsed the snarling, tusked face under the cowl. Te thing he and his partners had been hunting wasn’t human, undead, or trollkin, or ogrun. It was a frenzied, bipedal beast so intent on


its foe that it didn’t even notice Doorstop crashing onto the scene. Fortunately for Eilish, the remaining argus did notice. His cape tattered and his short sword in his hand, the arcanist was on the ground where a pair of the two-headed hounds had evidently thrown him; one beast had a crumpled black greave in one of its jaws. Eilish had likely been an instant away from death. Now, however, startled by the chugging, clanking Doorstop, both argus drew warily back. Colbie scrambled out next to the steamjack. “Doorstop! Push the gorax!” She pointed at the raging beast-man to specify the machine’s target. “Keep pushing until you knock it down!” Te laborjack marched dutifully forward. As Doorstop began to head away from Eilish, the pair of argus that had been assailing the fallen arcanist stopped retreating. Milo and Colbie dashed to his side. Milo drew a knife and threw it in a long cast. Te tip of the blade struck an argus’ withers, piercing its hide, but not deep enough to stick. Te hound yelped and faltered as the weapon fell to the ground. Tough the injury was superficial, the unexpected attack balked the beast long enough for Colbie to reach Eilish and haul him to his feet. Still facing the argus, the two of them backed away toward Doorstop, weapons ready. Milo pulled another knife to cover their retreat.

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CHAPTER 26 Gardek

Gardek’s wounded leg had gone numb, and that made every

step treacherous. Stumbling back before the gorax’s onslaught, he eventually lost his balance and fell. Gardek tried to raise his arms to fend off the creature, but they also felt clumsy and heavy, as if the weight of his own armor was too much for him. Ten, smoke fuming from the smokestack on its back, the armless laborjack ran right into the gorax. Its momentum and mass were irresistible, and the machine bulled the creature away from its intended victim. Gardek watched in astonishment. Like his foe, he’d been so intent on their fight that he hadn’t even noticed the ’jack emerge from the shack. Te trollkin hoped the automaton would knock the gorax over and crush it underfoot, but it didn’t. Te beast was too fast, big, and strong. Snarling, it slashed repeatedly as the ’jack pushed it backward. Its claws tore through the metal on the machine’s chassis but did not slow its advance. Te gorax and the laborjack were roughly the same height, but the ’jack considerably outweighed its opponent. Te gorax seemed to comprehend it wasn’t facing a living thing and that its attacks weren’t having the desired effect. It backed up a few paces and then moved to circle around the laborjack, likely in an attempt to get at the softer targets behind the machine. Doorstop tried to counter by putting its ponderous bulk in the path of its foe, but it was too slow to truly impede the gorax.


Gardek struggled to his feet and hobbled forward. Seeing him stand up, the gorax sprinted forward, outmaneuvering the steamjack with feral grace. Te trollkin began casting about for his hammer. Ten Eilish and Colbie rushed up to stand between them, the former gripping his sword and the latter a heavy ’jack wrench. Milo hovered a couple of paces back, a knife raised for throwing. Teir sudden arrival distracted the gorax, which turned to deal with them instead. Colbie glanced back at Gardek. “Get your hammer!” she cried. He growled under his breath, having already concluded that he needed the weapon to have any hope of doing real harm to such a powerful foe. Te bounty hunter resumed his search, trying to locate the hammer in the gloom. He finally spotted it several yards away. As he neared it, another argus bark penetrated his skull. Gardek saw the creature hurtling out of the gloom at him. Tis time he managed to overcome the paralysis and lunged forward to reach the hammer an instant before the argus could close. He snatched the weapon off the ground, pivoted, and struck. His numb leg almost gave way, but Gardek’s blow landed, striking the argus where its two necks met and merged into a single spine. Bones cracked, and the beast collapsed. Gardek sucked in a ragged breath. As fast as he could, he hobbled back toward his allies. He was relieved to see that not only were all three of them still alive, but they had also managed to hurt the gorax a little. Eilish’s sword had struck a bloody gash on its forearm, and one of Milo’s acid flasks had burned away fur from its shoulder. Blistered skin still smoked from the caustic substance. Despite the best efforts of its human foes and the tireless harassment of the armless laborjack, the gorax fought even more savagely than before. Gardek had heard that pain made such creatures

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even stronger, and that seemed to be true. As the battle continued, Colbie narrowly evaded a claw swipe that would otherwise have taken off her head. Eilish blocked a backhand blow with a stop cut, but the impact nearly knocked the weapon from his hand and sent him stumbling to the side. Moving up beside Eilish as the arcanist recovered his balance, Gardek attacked the gorax with his waning strength. Te beast grunted at the impact but was otherwise unfazed. At the same moment, the ’jack had lined up for another lumbering run at the gorax. Gardek bellowed and hurled himself at the bipedal beast. Te move might well be suicide, but maybe it would keep the gorax from noticing the automaton chuffing up behind it. He swung. Te gorax shifted sideways, and the hammer missed. Te creature swiped at his head with its claws. But before they could connect, the ’jack knocked it stumbling off balance. “You know, you could use that slug gun any time you like,” Gardek called out over his shoulder at Colbie. She shook her head. “Can’t. I might hit doorstop.” Pivoting, the gorax moved to circumvent the steamjack as it had every time before. Ten Eilish lunged and drove his short sword into the beast’s leg, staggering it for one crucial moment. “Doorstop!” Colbie cried. “Fall on the gorax! Don’t let it move!” Te ’jack toppled forward on top of the beast-man, using its steam-powered legs to keep the creature from crawling out from under its crushing weight. Te remaining four of them surrounded the struggling pair and struck at whatever parts of the gorax they could reach. Even then, their task was difficult and dangerous. Te gorax kept thrashing and once nearly clawed Milo’s leg out from under him. Despite Doorstop’s efforts, the creature was gradually squirming free.

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But maybe the extra room was just what they needed. Gardek limped to the proper position, raised his hammer high—Dhunia, had it ever felt this heavy, even on the first day of his training?—and anticipated its wriggling head coming his way. As soon as it did, he struck. Te gorax spotted the movement, snarled, and lashed a claw sideways at him. Te force he invested in his swing unbalanced him, and his leg finally gave way to dump him on the ground. But the gorax’s talons didn’t land. He looked at his foe and saw that his blow had struck first, smashing the creature’s skull. It slumped and was still. For a moment, he felt tremendous satisfaction and the urge to rest. Ten he noticed that the surviving argus were still slinking and circling in the darkness. “Tey’re afraid of the noise of the laborjack,” Eilish said breathlessly. Te toppled machine was emitting an awful racket from its rumbling, hissing boiler. “But that won’t last now that it’s fallen over.” He looked at Gardek. “You’re the strong one. Can you help set it back on its feet?” “With my leg torn up?” Eilish sighed. “I’m wiped out. I need time to recover before I can do anything.” “Don’t worry about it.” Colbie aimed her slug gun, steadying its weight in both hands. “You realize,” Milo said, “we’ve yet to see you hit a target with that thing.” “It helps if the target is big and stationary.” Te weapon boomed, and the slug arced across the junkyard to smash into one of the towering piles of scrap. Clattering metal rained down on two of the hounds. Combined with their earlier losses, the thunderous pelting of

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junk was apparently more than the surviving canines could take. Tey yelped and gave higher-pitched barks as they withdrew into the gloom. Gardek’s allies clustered around him. Colbie stooped to examine his leg, and Milo handed her a little brass bottle. “Apply this,” the alchemist said. Whatever the stuff was, it stung some feeling back into Gardek’s leg. He sucked in a breath. “How badly is he hurt?” Eilish asked. Gardek managed a grin. “I’ll be fine, schoolboy. I’m not dying now , not after we finally won a fight. Not when I can point out how wrong you were about the hooked dagger.” o Gardek’s disappointment, the arcanist simply smiled. “And not, I’m sure, when we’re finally ready to unmask the real tunnel murderer. I trust you’ve all discerned who it has to be?”

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CHAPTER 27 Eilish

A s

they approached the Queen of Skulls, Eilish glanced surreptitiously at Gardek limping along; he didn’t want the trollkin to notice he was checking up on him. Fortunately, he appeared to be all right. A grim smile on his bandaged face, Gardek looked as eager as everyone else to reach their destination. Eilish knew trollkin were quick healers; he’d likely be fine as soon as he got a real meal. A glowering Lieutenant Rorke, however, evinced more impatience than eagerness. Eilish and his partners had collected the lawman on their way to report to Lon Kurgan, and Rorke was clearly irritated they had declined to divulge the results of their investigation immediately. For Eilish’s purposes, that simply wouldn’t do. He preferred to reveal the solution to their puzzle with all the principals gathered together and with a certain theatrical panache. It was more fun—and it would help to build his reputation. Besides, even though Rorke had recruited Colbie and him, Kurgan was paying their fee. He had a right to hear the information first. Colbie had to leave Doorstop outside the gambling house, as it was too big to fit through the entrance. Even without arms, the smoking, chugging steamjack made the thuggish doorman look small and inconsequential by comparison. Passing through the card room, the group spied Kurgan talking to Pytor Nazarko by one row of the animal enclosures that lined the hall


containing the fighting pit. Te Queen of Skulls’ manager sported a crimson brocade outfit every bit as gaudy as the mustard-colored suit Eilish had seen before. His scowling and bald second-in-command wore his usual long leather gauntlets and carried his crook-handled, spiral-carved cane. As the newcomers approached, Kurgan asked, “Is it done?” “Almost,” Gardek rumbled. “Here’s the first part.” He opened the sack he was carrying and pulled out the gorax’s head by its shaggy mane. Fluid dripped from the neck. Kurgan and Rorke goggled at the head. Some of the nearby gamblers, who’d been idling away the time until the next fight, noticed the display and reacted similarly. Eilish smiled. Te bigger the audience, the better. “Tat’s an animal,” Kurgan said. “Specifically, a gorax,” Eilish said. “A ferocious creature, as my partners and I can attest. I wonder who has the connections to procure such an animal and a pack of wild argus? Who possesses the near-preternatural skill to train the former to do his bidding and to convince such fierce and normally territorial beasts to cohabitate and defend one another? Care to speculate, Mr. Nazarko?” Eilish had to give the beast trainer credit. At the implied accusation, his mouth fell open in a convincing counterfeit of surprise. “What are you suggesting?” he demanded. Meanwhile, more curious gamblers drew near. “In retrospect,” Eilish said, “the clues all fit together. You found an abandoned site in the Undercity where you could keep a gorax. You obtained an argus pack to play watchdogs. Ten you trained the lumbering brute to roam the tunnels and kill patrons departing the Queen of Skulls, although its bloodthirsty temperament caused it to claim the occasional random victim as well.” Nazarko sneered. “Tat’s ridiculous. Te gorax would have no

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way of telling the patrons from anybody else.” “Not without help,” Eilish said. “But you provided it. You’re quite sour and taciturn in your dealings with Mr. Kurgan and people in general, aren’t you? But when gamblers approach you, you’re genial and more than willing to shake their hands and slap them on the back—because you’re putting a chemical on them that people can’t smell. But a gorax can.” One arm hanging in its sling, Milo grinned. “I helped figure out that part of it.” Eilish gave the alchemist a nod. “So you did.” He shifted his gaze back to Nazarko. “You didn’t want anyone finding out the tunnel killer was a gorax, because that might implicate you. Besides, a mysterious slayer was more frightening. So you improvised a crude disguise using unfinished tanner skins. Teir stink would both terrify and repel any witnesses as well as mask the distinctive musk of a gorax. You even put steel rings on the creature’s fingers to misdirect us to Natak Warbiter of the Patient Weavers.” “Ridiculous,” Nazarko repeated. “Still,” Eilish said, “your faith in your precautions wasn’t unshakable. When I first visited this establishment and demonstrated that Mr. Boggs wasn’t the tunnel killer, my acumen dismayed you.” Colbie jumped in. “I suspect it was the prospect of all four of us working together that spooked him.” Eilish waved a magnanimous hand. “Yes, I’m sure. At any rate, fearing discovery and hoping our investigation would lead us to Natak, Mr. Nazarko sent an anonymous message to the Patient Weavers. It was supposed to result in our demise, but as you can see, we weathered the crisis. Just as we subsequently found your hideaway and put down your sundry savage beasts.” Nazarko looked to Kurgan. “Tis is insane,” the animal trainer said. “Why would I want to kill our customers?”

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“For one thing,” Eilish said, “you’re second-in-command here. If business falls off for whatever reason, your Knotted Cord superiors will probably elevate you to Mr. Kurgan’s position. But I suspect there’s more to it than that. You’re harboring some sort of grudge against him, aren’t you?” Kurgan frowned at his subordinate. “Are you?” he asked. “No!” Nazarko said. “He’s just stringing together lies and guesses. Tere’s no proof of any of this!” “I bet we can find some,” Gardek said. “Te chemical you smear on the gamblers—have you got it in your pocket right now?” “Even if he doesn’t,” Milo said, “the hides he stole were bulky, awkward to carry, and acidic. We might find a burn or two on those gloves.” With a suddenness that took them by surprise, Nazarko gripped his cane with both hands and pulled. Te crook handle came away from the shaft to reveal the stubby barrel of a pistol. Te bald man pointed the gun at Kurgan and then shifted around behind him. Kurgan swallowed. “You ungrateful bastard.” “Hardly,” Nazarko replied. “When I agreed to work here, you promised this fighting pit would be just the first of many. Tat we’d invest in more exotic beasts and I’d be able to run things the way I wanted to. You never delivered on any of it.” “You’re crazy!” Kurgan said. “You’d have nothing without me!” “We’re leaving,” the trainer said. “Nobody move.” Keeping his captive’s body between him and his accusers, Nazarko dragged Kurgan toward the exit. “You can’t get away,” Rorke said. “We’ll see about that,” Nazarko replied. He grabbed the lever attached to the barred door at the front of an enclosure. Perhaps the beasts inside were supposed to fight soon, for unlike the others down the wall, no padlock secured it.

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Nazarko yanked down the lever then jerked open the grille. Squealing, shaggy, long-eared burrow-mawgs hurtled through the opening.

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CHAPTER 28 Colbie

Bumping into one another, gamblers recoiled from the gnashing

fangs and hooked claws of the shrilling, dog-sized animals. With the fighting pit at their backs, however, the patrons couldn’t avoid the burrow-mawgs for long. Fortunately, there was enough time for Colbie’s companions to intervene. Eilish evoked a spell, and blue runes flashed around his extended arm. Bolts of force pierced the lead burrow-mawg, which promptly collapsed. Its sudden demise made the creatures behind it hesitate just long enough for Gardek to plant himself in front of them. Te trollkin’s shield, spiked armor, and massive frame made a barrier of sorts, and his hammer rose and fell as he smashed one animal after another. Milo maneuvered until he could throw a grenade into the very back of the burrow-mawgs’ enclosure. Te resulting burst of gas made the beasts at the rear of the frenzied pack convulse; Gardek was far enough away to be unaffected. Confident her partners had the burrow-mawg part of the situation in hand, Colbie scrambled after Nazarko. Weaving through the panicked crowd slowed her progress, and by the time she reached the card room, the animal trainer was already at the exit. As she’d expected, he was still pulling his hostage along; keeping Kurgan under control had slowed him just enough.


She waited for Nazarko to throw open the door. Ten she shouted, “Doorstop! Come!” Te laborjack heard her despite the general racket inside the gaming house. It turned and tramped toward the doorway, its massive legs and torso blocking any view of the cavern beyond. Had he reacted quickly, Nazarko could have let go of Kurgan and dodged around the oncoming ’jack. Instead, taking advantage of the distraction, Kurgan wrenched free and punched the animal trainer in the throat. Nazarko reeled. He tried to point the pistol, but Kurgan grabbed the stubby barrel. Te gang chieftain twisted the weapon away from himself and toward the other man. eeth gritted and eyes glaring, the two men strained for control of the gun. Wrench raised to brain Nazarko, Colbie dashed toward them. But when she was still a stride out of striking distance, the pistol went off. Nazarko dropped with a little hole at the spot where his neck met his chin. Te wound would shortly be the death of him if it hadn’t been already. Just in case, however, Kurgan stamped on his head and neck and then sneered at Colbie. “Self-defense,” the gang boss said, breathing heavily. “Rorke can’t object to that.” “No,” she said with an exasperated sigh, “I guess he can’t.” She turned toward the doorway. Te Queen of Skulls was more solidly built than the shack in the junkyard, and Doorstop hadn’t succeeded in forcing its way through. But the ’jack’s dogged efforts to do so were no doubt producing cosmetic damage at the very least. “Doorstop, stop! Move five steps back!” Te machine obeyed, and she and Kurgan headed back into the fighting hall. Tey arrived just in time to see Gardek flatten the skull of the final burrow-mawg. As far as Colbie could see, the bounty hunter and her other partners were unharmed—and

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so were the people they’d fought to protect. “Nazarko?” Eilish asked. “aken care of,” Colbie said. “Which means Mr. Kurgan owes us our fee.” Te gang boss grunted. “I made plenty of coin off those burrowmawgs, and Nazarko won’t be easy to replace. But, yes, I’ll pay you. You earned it.” He grinned. “Hell, you earned more. I invite you to join the Knotted Cord!” Colbie hesitated. She hadn’t minded working for a notorious crime syndicate when the job was to stop the murder of innocent people, but she had no interest in becoming a permanent part of it. She suspected Milo, Gardek, and Eilish felt the same way. Yet she wasn’t sure how to refuse without giving offense to a dangerous man, and judging from the awkward silence, the others shared her uncertainty. Rorke spoke up. “Miss Sterling already has a plan for her future that I endorse. She intends to establish a mercenary company. No doubt Mr. Garrity, Mr. Stonebreaker, and Mr. Boggs will be her first recruits. Tey plainly work well together.” Colbie turned to the others. “I was going to ask you once I knew the lieutenant would help me secure a charter.” Milo nodded. “As long as I have time for my work. And you buy me a lab.” “A team can tackle bigger jobs,” Gardek said, “and bigger jobs mean bigger bounties. I’ll give it a try.” Eilish grinned. “I wouldn’t mind having some brute force backing me up on those occasions when intellect alone proves insufficient.” After a moment he added, “Tough I require to be named your second-in-command.” Gardek glared at the arcanist but then shrugged. Colbie suspected the trollkin would do what he wanted regardless of who gave him orders.

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Kurgan gave Rorke a crooked smile. “And you won’t mind having your own little band of mercenaries beholden to you.” “Every action I take,” the lawman said, “is for the good of the citizens of Corvis.” He turned to Colbie. “So, long live . . . what’s the name on the application?” “Te Black River Irregulars.” Eilish tilted his head. “Not bad. I can live with it.”

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GLOSSARY jack marshal: A person who has learned how to give precise verbal orders to a steamjack to direct it in labor or battle, sometimes called marshaling. Tis is a highly useful occupational skill, although it lacks the versatility or finesse afforded by the direct mental control of steamjacks exercised by a warcaster. ´

jack: See steamjack.

´

Amethyst Rose: Te Loyal Order of the Amethyst Rose is a storied martial organization in Llael whose members are gun mages originally sworn to that nation’s crown. Many of its members served as royal protectors, but the organization was officially disbanded after the death of Llael’s last king. Its members persisted and met in secret, still devoted to their original oaths. After the Fall of Llael, most of the order’s surviving members became part of the Llaelese Resistance, working from the shadows against Khadoran interests. arcanist: Any of a variety of skilled practitioners of magic in western Immoren, particularly those who make the study of magic their life’s work, such as the Greylords Covenant of Khador. argus: Enormous two-headed dogs, argus are predatory pack animals that prowl the wilds of western Immoren. Te twin heads of an argus can combine their individual barks to produce a powerful sonic blast that addles the mind and can temporarily paralyze its prey.

GLOSSARY

ascendant: A saint-like individual who has followed in Morrow’s footsteps and ascended to serve his faith as beacons of enlightenment. Individual ascendants are frequently chosen as patrons by Morrowan worshipers. Black River: Te longest river in western Immoren, connecting Rhul, Llael, and Cygnar. Merywyn, Corvis, and Caspia-Sul rest on this river, and it forms the eastern border of Cygnar, separating it from the Bloodstone Marches. burrow-mawg: An extremely aggressive badger-sized nocturnal creature with powerful jaws filled with dozens of sharp, serrated fangs. Corvis: Te northeastern Cygnaran city occupying the conjunction of the Black River and the Dragon’s ongue River. Also called the “City of Ghosts.” Cygnar: A southern kingdom ruled by King Leto Raelthorne and bearing the Cygnus on its flag. Generally considered the most prosperous and technologically advanced of the Iron Kingdoms. Dhunia: Te primal goddess of fertility, the seasons, and nature and thought by her adherents to be embodied by Caen itself. Her worshipers are primarily gobbers, ogrun, and trollkin but also include some wilderness races like the farrow. In some myths, Dhunia is seen as the female embodiment of nature, while the Devourer Wurm is the male embodiment. Viewed by Dhunian races as their divine mother. gatormen: A bipedal, intelligent reptilian race resembling their namesake. Tey are among the most formidable warriors in western Immoren, as few can rival their raw killing power; even unarmed gatormen are fearsome due to their strong jaws and flesh-ripping teeth. Tey dwell in a variety of remote swamps, marshes, and riverbanks.

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GLOSSARY

gobbers: A diminutive race of inquisitive, nimble, and entrepreneurial individuals that has adapted well to human cities. Most gobbers stand around three feet tall. Gobbers are known to have undeniable aptitude for mechanikal devices and alchemy. gorax: Hulking, primitive creatures with long arms ending in oversized claws. Teir faces are distinguished by protruding jaws filled with fangs suited to tearing through flesh and bone alike. Gorax are known to appreciate the taste of human flesh, and some prefer it over all other fare. gun mage: An arcanist capable of channeling arcane energy into rune shots fired from magelock pistols. Khador: Te northernmost and largest of the Iron Kingdoms, encompassing large expanses of frozen wilderness. Khador’s people are proud of their military traditions, and the nation has a reputation for aggressive expansionism. kriels: Te most important divisions of trollkin culture and the equivalent of a trollkin tribe or clan, varying greatly in size but always comprising several kiths, which are often (but not always) related. Members of the same kriel share the same quitari pattern on their clothing. laborjack: A steamjack used to perform heavy manual labor. Laborjacks come in both light and heavy variants and many different chassis, each designed for a specific type of work. Llael: Once the smallest and easternmost Iron Kingdom but largely conquered by 605 AR in the Llaelese War. Llael has since been divided between Khador, the Protectorate of Menoth, and the Llaelese Resistance.

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GLOSSARY

Longest Night: Te Longest Night is a triennial event that falls upon the winter solstice. solst ice. It is a numberless day, day, conceived by the innovators of the Morrowan calendar to compensate for a third of a day difference between the calendar year and the astronomical year. Tis nocturnal festival is observed in most of the western regions and includes heavy drinking, music, and dancing. Celebrants often dress as the dead and the festivities may also include fireworks. In many places, the Longest Night is a three-night celebration. magelock: Te signature weapon of a gun mage. Only the costly cost ly and difficult-to-fabricate steel alloys of these weapons can withstand the arcane stresses created by rune shots. mechanik: One who builds, maintains, and repairs mechanikal equipment such as steamjacks. mechanika: Te fusion of mechanical mech anical engineering and arcane science. Mechanikal weapons and tools are those employing mechanikal components to augment their basic function or add new functionality. functionality. Molgur-Trul: Te Molgur-Trul: Te native language of the trollkin, derived from the ancient Molgur tongue. Morrow: One Morrow: One of the wins, wins, brother br other to t o Tamar, and a god who was once on ce mortal but who ascended to divinity by achieving enlightenment. Also known as the Prophet, Morrow is a benevolent god who emphasizes self-sacrifice, good works, and honorable behavior. See also Church of Morrow and Tamar. ogrun: A ogrun: A physically powerful race averaging eight to nine feet in height and renowned for great strength, honor, and loyalty. Most ogrun are citizens of Rhul, though they can be found throughout the Iron Kingdoms and are also present in the Scharde Islands serving Cryx. Cr yx.

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GLOSSARY

Order of the Amethyst Rose: Te Loyal Order of the Amethyst Rose is a storied martial mart ial organization in Llael whose members are gun mages originally sworn to that nation’s crown. Many of its members served as royal protectors, but the th e organization was officially disbanded after the death of Llael’s Llael’s last king. Its members persisted and met in secret, still devoted to their original oaths. After the Fall of Llael, most of the order’s order’s surviving sur viving members became part of the Llaelese Resistance, working wor king from the shadows sha dows against agai nst Khador Kha doran an inte i nterest rests. s. Order of the Golden Crucible: An Crucible: An organization of alchemists, with branches in Cygnar, Cygnar, Ord, and Llael. Te order earns a sizable s izable portion of its money through the sale of commercial blasting powder used for firearm and cannon ordnance. Rhul/Rhulfolk: Rhul/Rhulfolk: Te northeastern nation bordering Khador, Llael, and Ios. Dwarves of Rhul, a tenacious and skilled race that has long traded with the nations of man, are referred to as Rhulfolk. Rhul is also home to a sizable population of ogrun who have fully integrated into Rhulic culture. Rhul is not one of the Iron Kingdoms. steamjack: steamjack: A steam-powered mechanikal construct designed in a variety of configurations and sizes, used for both labor and warfare throughout the Iron Kingdoms, Cryx, and Rhul. Some machines referred to as such use power sources other than steam and are so are not technically steamjacks but are still referred to as such as a matter of custom. swamp shambler: Dangerous undead creatures that inhabit isolated swamps and marshes throughout western Immoren. It is commonly believed that anyone who dies in such a place and is left unattended may rise again in seven days as a swamp shambler, posessed of the murderous intent to return to their homes and slay those they believe abandoned them.

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GLOSSARY

swampies: swampies: A swamp-dwelling people, usually of Morridane or Arjun Arj un ancest anc estry, ry, most mos t commonl com monlyy found fou nd in Cygnar Cygna r and easter eas tern n Ord. Swampies do not consider the term pejorative but these people are frequently subject to prejudice by city-dwellers who regard them as unsophisticated and ignorant. trollkin: trollkin: A hardy and intelligent race that live both in their own communities in the wilderness and within cities of man. Distantly related to the more savage and monstrous trolls, trollkin t rollkin have a distinct appearance with colorful skin, usually blue in hue, and with quills instead of hair and rock-like calcified growths on various parts of their bodies. Tey possess a complex and rich culture, including their own writte wri tten n langu l anguage. age. Most trollki tro llkin n wors w orship hip the goddess god dess Dhunia. Dhun ia. Undercity: A Undercity: A large, lar ge, populat popu lated ed series ser ies of undergr und ergroun ound d neighbo neig hborho rhoods ods beneath the surface streets of Corvis. Cor vis. Most of the Undercity is made up of sunken streets and buildings abandoned by ordinary city residents, while whi le other oth er areas area s occupy occ upy subter sub terrane ranean an caves. cav es. Several Seve ral portio por tions ns of the Undercity are under the control of criminal gangs. Urcaen: Urcaen: A mysterious cosmological realm that is the spiritual counterpart of the physical world of Caen. Most of the gods reside here, and this is also where most souls spend the afterlife. Urcaen is divided between protected divine domains and the hellish wilds stalked by the Devourer Wurm. warjack: warjack: A highly advanced and well-armed steamjack created or modified for war. Some warjacks use power sources other than steam and are not technically steamjacks but are still referred to as such as a matter of custom.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR Richard Lee Byers Richard Lee Byers is the author of around forty fantasy and horror novels, including a number set in the Forgotten Realms universe. A resident of the Tampa Bay area, the setting for many of his horror stories, he spends much of his free time fencing and playing poker. Friend him on Facebook, follow him on Twitter, and read his blog on Livejournal.

Murder in Corvis

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