THE QUESTERS, PART IX

"So there I was," Charity continued her story. There was a wide grin on her face. "Running down the street with the jewels in hand, and all hell breaking loose behind me. Meanwhile, Faye and the other girls in the gang were heading back to the hideout by different routes. Then Faye ran into trouble. Some damned busy-body just happened to be passing by, heard all the yelling, and tried to stop her. She didn't know him at the time, but that was Ben."

"So Faye was in a fight with Ben and couldn't get away from him - I think mostly because she didn't want to break his pretty face. Meanwhile, I didn't realize what was happening to her until I was a good five blocks away. And through all of that, a pissed-off House Reilly lord was jumping up and down on the rooftop of his mansion, screaming curses at all of us - even Ben, who was just trying to help. And remember, that Lord still wasn't wearing a stitch of clothes. So his dick was flopping all over as he jumped around. People in the nearby houses were staring, but he didn't seem to care."

We were back at our table in the main room of the Green Dragon tavern. Charity was spinning tales from her and Faye's youth. Rose and I were fascinated. Faye was horrified.

Charity went on with her story. "House Legion troops were pouring out of the mansion and I could hear Militia whistles coming from all around us. So I jumped up onto a roof, stashed the rubies in my pussy, and grabbed some new clothes from a clothesline. From up there, I could see Ben and Faye fighting, but I could tell that Ben didn't really want to hurt her. So I yelled at Faye to quit screwing around and just run. She finally did that. Ben didn't even try to follow her. Faye got up on the roof with me, we turned back into Folk form, and then just walked down the stairs, trying our best to look innocent. Some militia met us halfway down. Faye and I leaned up against a wall and began rubbing up against each other - pretending to be a pair of wayward young lovers. The militia guys ran past us, ordering us to get inside as they kept going. After they were gone, we made it down to the street, ducked into an alley, tore open a water main, and then swam our way out. That was Faye's idea - all that water made it pretty much impossible for Blood militia to track us."

Then Charity began roaring with laughter. "At the time, Ben may not have wanted to put a sword into Faye, but he must have reconsidered. Because just a week later, he didn't seem to have any problem at all with sticking things into her!"

Faye had her face buried in her hands, but then she looked up.

"I bumped into Ben a few days later," Faye told me and Rose through gritted teeth. "He was going to arrest me. So I made him an offer..."

"'I made him an offer'," Charity mimicked Faye with wicked accuracy. "Poor little Faye, shaming herself in order to escape justice! Oh, for God's sake, honey! You had the hots for Ben from the moment you met him! After the job, when we got back at the hideout, he was all you could talk about!"

"I made Ben an offer," Faye repeated, looking hard at Charity. "He told me to go to hell and said I was under arrest. I knocked him flat. Then I tried to get away by jumping through a window, but he tackled me. We ended up in the middle of the street, face-to-face, trading punches. The next thing I knew, we were kissing. After a while, we stood up, brushed ourselves off, gave each other a funny look, and walked off in different directions."

"Ben and Faye's first date!" Charity announced cheerfully.

"No matter what anyone tells you, we didn't screw in the street," Faye said, glaring at Charity. "When we finally did get together for the first time, it was in a bed at a really nice inn."

We were back at our table. Charity and Faye were still drinking grog, but Rose and I had switched over to potent fruit-flavored drinks that - for some reason - had tiny umbrellas in them. The barmaid, who was also fascinated by Charity's story, was leaning on Rose's shoulders.

"Do you have any more stories about Ben and Faye?" I asked. Rose and the barmaid nodded eagerly.

"Char... please," Faye begged.

Charity looked thoughtful. "Well, Ben and Faye did get into a spat and then they stopped talking to each other. Now, ya gotta understand that when me and Faye are full Green, we look a lot alike. Although it helps if the light ain't so good. So I..."

"Stop. It." Faye said dangerously.

Charity raised her hands in good-humored surrender. "Easy, Faye. You aren't even in this story!"

Faye glared at Charity. "Thanks to you, the first time Ben said he loved me, he was talking to someone else!"

Charity's eyes went distant. "Damn, it was romantic," she sighed, "but as soon as I kissed Ben, he figured it out. That alleyway was pretty dark, but I guess he could taste the difference."

Then Charity snapped back to reality and nodded her head towards the door. "Guess who's here."

But I was already looking at the three guys.

We didn't really have much of a description of the three guys, but the newcomers fit it. One of them was tall, skinny, and oddly proportioned. The other two were shorter, bulkier, and looked a lot alike. Their clothing was non-descript... until you took a second look and noticed that much of it was the kind of light armor that didn't inhibit movement. They weren't obviously armed, but I could tell that the tall one had a shortsword under his cloak. The other two were carrying fighting daggers on their belts. By scent, I could tell they were Wilder, but I didn't have any idea of their actual lineage or powers.

There was something else to their scent that was subtle, but definitely present. Just a hint of something dead and rotten. If I'd seen them on the street, I would have assumed they worked in a mortuary or a graveyard.

The three of them took a table and sat down.

Rose looked up at the barmaid who was hanging over her and nodded. The barmaid ambled over to the three men and took their orders. Once she was done, Charity finished her drink and stood up. Walking over to where our suspects were sitting, she leaned a hip against their table and began chatting. The two shorter men were obviously interested in what Charity was offering. One of them began running a hand up and down a bare length of thigh that was revealed by Charity's open gown.

As Charity talked about the obvious subject, the shorter Wilder who wasn't caressing Charity's leg reached up and dislodged the shoulders of her gown. The upper part of the gown slipped down to Charity's lower back. While the two shorter men were obviously interested in Charity's services, the taller one just as obviously had something else on his mind. His eyes were scanning the crowd around them.

He was probably looking for someone who was young, drunk, and vulnerable. Frankly, a bar filled with Greens struck me as an unwise place to hunt for victims, but perhaps the taller man was simply acting out of habit.

The young barmaid came back and put three tankards on the table. There was a long moment when the taller man speculatively looked her over. Then he paid for the drinks. After that, the tall man went back to scanning the crowd.

His eyes eventually settled on a young Folk workman. The Folk was alone and a little drunk. He had the look of someone who didn't have a lot of money on him and was trying to pace his drinks. Meanwhile, he was enjoying the free entertainment - music and openly displayed feminine skin - that the tavern offered.

"Now?" Rose asked.

I shook my head. "Let's see how this plays out."

The older man interrupted his two friends and handed Charity a coin - I caught the glint of silver. Then he gestured towards the young Folk fellow. He tried to speak quietly to Charity, but my hearing is too good for that.

"He's a friend of mine," he told Charity softly. "Show him a good time, but don't tell him who paid for it."

Then he handed Charity another coin. "And why don't you two have a few drinks on me before you get down to business?" he added.

Charity smiled agreeably, took the coins, and began ambling towards the lone Folk. She glanced at me and I nodded very slightly.

Charity slipped off her gown and then sat next to the now startled young Folk. Then she draped the gown over the boy's back as if it were a cape. After that, she leaned forward, put a hand in the boy's lap, and whispered something into his ear.

The youngster tried to say something witty and pretty much failed. Charity shut him up by kissing him.

The barmaid showed up and, with her lips still locked on the boy's, Charity gestured for some drinks.

Two tankards later, Charity escorted the young fellow into the back. By then he was having some trouble walking, but Charity helped keep him upright.

Back at their table, the three guys were quietly drinking. The two shorter guys were paying full attention to their drinks, but the taller one was keeping an eye on the door to the backroom.

Faye and Rose kept up their act as a pair of lovers who were enjoying a wild night on the town. I tried to keep up my appearance as their mildly irritated companion. A bar patron approached me, but I politely turned him down.

After a half-hour, Charity and the youngster reappeared. He looked both disheveled and amazed. Charity walked him back to his chair, sat him down, and ordered another round.

Charity downed her tankard in one swallow - really, the amount of alcohol she could put down was amazing. Then she kissed the young man one last time, said goodbye, and left him sitting alone.

As Charity walked past me, her hand trailed across my shoulders. "He's a decent kid, don't let him get hurt," she told me softly.

The youngster fiddled for a few minutes with his drink, decided he'd had enough and left it as he got up and began stumbling for the door.

The three guys watched the boy as he left the bar. Then they got up and followed him out.

We gave them a minute, then we left as well.

Standing outside the Green Dragon, I took a deep breath of night air, tasting the range of scents around us.

I could smell a few drops of very fresh blood. There was also an odd chemical tang that I was willing to guess was some kind of incapacitating agent. The three guys who'd followed Charity's young customer out the door were fast workers. They already had him.

Smit appeared next to me. The normally restless and jumpy militia-man was now quiet and focused. He wordlessly nodded in the direction of our quarry and I returned his nod.

*A drunk kid left the tavern and got jumped by three creeps,* Beck said into our heads. *We have a trail on them. Now what?*

*We follow them,* I replied shortly. "I want to know where they're lairing."

Smit nodded and slipped away, tracking the scent. Beck came out of the alley and joined Faye, Rose, and me.

Following the trail, we began moving north and inland.

*What's in this direction?* I asked Beck.

*The market district on the edge of the Green enclave,* Beck replied. *Lots of buildings that are mostly empty at this time of night. There are some good roads leading in and out and also a small-boat canal. It's the territory of a Green gang called the Maestros. They're semi-legit - mostly into renting out muscle as guards. There will be boats tied up on the flanks of the canal, and a lot of carts and wagons parked near stables. The militia has a night patrol in the area, but they have a big area to cover and it wouldn't be too hard for someone with bad intent to keep away from them. The Merchant's Guild has their own patrols, but they're really only worried about street crime. Give them some silver to look the other way, and they'll cooperate as long as what you're doing isn't obviously a problem.*

Then, after a moment's pause, Beck continued. *A lot of people who don't know each other come through that district. A local ordinance closes down the market and other businesses after sundown. Also, there are no taverns in the district, so there's not a lot of night traffic. All in all, it's a good place to make someone vanish.*

We continued on.

We were somewhere in the market district's disorganized tangle of streets, warehouses, shops, and dwellings when a bird call sounded in front of us. It was a cardinal, which is not a city bird.

We stopped and fell into the darker shadows of the crooked and narrow street - more of a track - that we were traveling down. I could still smell the trail of the kidnapped young man and the three creatures who'd taken him, but it was becoming overwhelmed by the trash-laden water of the canal.

Smit doubled back to us and whispered a report.

"There's an old tenement ahead of us. It's half-collapsed and it borders the canal. The three guys took the kid inside. A canal boat is tied up outside and I think more prisoners are on it - drugged and tied up. Oh, and the whole place smells dead. It ain't obvious, but it's there. I think the three guys have friends who came in on the canal boat. There's maybe ten or twelve of them all told."

Rose and I tried not to stare at Smit. Faye didn't bother to conceal her surprise. The Blood who was talking to us was nothing like the twitchy, awkward, and perhaps mad Blood we'd met just hours ago.

*Smit's better when he has something to hunt,* Beck mind-spoke to me. I could sense sadness and regret in that thought.

I didn't respond. I knew why Smit was so broken. And it was something that would never go away.

By then the others - even Smit - were all looking at me.

"Take them down," I ordered. "Don't let any harm come to the prisoners. And we need some of the kidnappers for questioning."

Rose raised her arms and lifted up into the sky. Her blades loosened themselves from their sheaths and began rotating around her, like a small cyclone of sharp steel.

Faye cast aside her dress and sandals and went into her full Green form. Then, surprisingly silent, she stalked forward. Smit and I ranged out to each side from her. Beck was centrally located behind Faye and Smit. As an offensive formation, it was primarily instinctual, but still quite strong.

The tenement loomed above us, a four-story dark bulk, except for a few windows from which dim candle-light could be seen. The canal was right behind the tenement and it stank of trash and filth. That was probably a deliberate choice by the kidnappers. The canals of Nyack are infamous among we Blood for their ability to overwhelm even our sense of smell.

But still, underneath the stench of the canal, I could catch the scent that Smit had mentioned. It wasn't so much the scent of rot and death as it was the scent of something that had chosen to embrace death.

"There's a guard inside the door," I tersely alerted Faye.

Faye nodded. Then she walked up to the tenement door and kicked it open. Actually, the door didn't so much open as it disintegrated into splinters and fragments. In a flurry of blood and broken wood, the guard inside bounced across the floor and smashed into the main hallway of the tenement. The hallway floor and the far back wall were splattered with his fluids.

Faye let out a challenging roar that I swear made the building shake. She had the full attention of the building's occupants, it was up to the rest of us to take advantage of the distraction.

Rose flew up to the roof. Meanwhile, Smit and I simultaneously cut open the window-shutters of the apartments on either side of the front door and jumped inside. In my apartment, a man was tumbling out of bed. His bed-partner had shoved herself against the headboard and was screaming. They both had that strange reek of semi-death about them. But they were subtly different. The man was Hand. The woman was something else.

As he scrambled to his feet, I slashed at the man. My claws made contact, but he somehow half-crawled, half-rolled away from me.

Meanwhile, the girl's shriek turned into a sonic-howl that I was barely able to duck away from. The wall behind me began to vibrate and collapse. Leaping straight up, I lashed out with a foot-claw and caught her across the throat. Her scream ended in a gurgle as she collapsed and frantically began trying to hold her throat together. The blanket of her bed began turning dark-brown from her blood.

The wall behind me finally finished collapsing, and the air filled with the dust of ruptured masonry and broken timbers.

The screamer's friend came back and caught me in a flying tackle. He was incredibly strong and I felt a pair of ribs break as we careened through a wooden inner wall and into the next room. I could see the look of triumph on his face. He was used to the idea that once someone was locked in his grasp, the fight was over.

I cut deep scores into his forearms and tore myself loose from his grasp. Meanwhile, a startled look appeared on his face. He looked down - and stared in horror at the mass of intestines bulging out through a lateral slash in his lower stomach. Letting go of me, he staggered back, grasping at his injury, but it was far too late. He screamed as his guts began slithering out of his body and pooling around his feet.

He was still screaming and staring when I put my left-hand claws through his eyes and into his brain. Then I yanked my claws free, which pulled him towards me. I stepped out of the way as he fell onto the squirting red ruin of his face.

Suddenly, Faye and a Green warrior crashed through the room and out through the exterior wall. I managed to put a deep cut into the male Green's torso before they, cursing and bashing at each other, vanished outside. The damage they did to the exterior wall shook the building so much that I wondered if it was about to collapse.

My ribs began itching as they healed.

Then I heard movement in the dust-filled corridor and fell flat. The beam of a Red-Eye lashed above me and blew open yet more of the outside wall. I rolled off to one side and flattened myself against a crumbling interior wall. I knew where the Red-Eye was located, but there was a lot of open space between us. Getting close to him would be difficult.

There was a thunking sound ahead of me and I heard a body fall to the floor. Then, leaking a trail of blood, the head of the Red-Eye rolled into the room. Smit followed after it.

Smit was covered with blood and there was a rictus of a broad smile was on his face. His eyes had gone yellow and his canine teeth were enlarged as the non-Blood half of his lineage manifested. There was an ear in his hand that he had torn loose from the Red-Eye. Smit off-handedly popped it into his mouth and began chewing.

Still chewing, Smit looked at me as I rose to my feet, his yellow eyes interested and amused as they roamed up and down my body.

He was very close to becoming something too savage to be allowed to live.

"Smit! Smitty!" I heard Beck call out urgently. And in that moment, I realized that she knew. Beck knew what her partner was.

"Look behind you," I told Smit coldly.

Smit hesitated. Then he glanced over his shoulder. After that, he let out a low and rumbling growl.

Six of Rose's blood-stained blades were hovering just a yard behind Smit. Further back, I could make out the dim outline of Rose. She was standing a foot above the floor. The airborne dust rippled around her as her power warped the natural forces that surrounded her body.

Outside, I could hear Faye grunting and cursing as she battered her opponent to pieces.

"Fight our foes," I told Smit. "Or I'll kill you where you stand."

I was amazed by the cold harshness in my words.

Meanwhile, Rose didn't take her eyes off of Smit.

Beck came down the hall. She saw the three of us and froze. Then she seemed to concentrate.

"Smit, come back," she told Smit softly.

Smit blinked and looked at Beck. A look appeared on his face that seemed to be one of recognition.

*Come back,* I heard Beck mind-speak. I could sense her fear and desperation.

With a grunt, Smit spat out what was left of the ear he was eating. His eyes were now halfway between their normal brown and his recent yellow. His teeth were less prominent.

Smit growled something that might have been a word, turned away, and ventured deeper into the building. Beck, unwilling to meet my eyes, followed him.

Rose gave me a hard and questioning look.

"Let him live," I told her.

The ruin of the tenement had already partially collapsed. Bodies and body parts were strewn everywhere. And we had a pair of prisoners - a man and a woman - to question.

About two-dozen militia were scouring the area, searching the nearby houses and shops, questioning the locals, and keeping back a fascinated and steadily growing crowd.

We'd recovered ten prisoners - two men, four women, and four children - from the canal boat. They were huddled together, still secured by shackles on their wrists and ankles. A militia healer was with them. Whatever drug had been used on the prisoners was keeping them docile and quiet. The healer was carefully checking them over and he looked worried.

A pair of militia sergeants were present. One was the red-headed Blood from Beck and Smit's station. The other was a long-faced Green from the local station. The militia who were present were also from both stations. Apparently we'd created a jurisdictional problem and the two Sergeants were exchanging words about it.

Faye was still full Green. She was also naked and covered with dark green blood. She stood next to me with her arms crossed over her breasts, acting as my Yojimbo. The gruesomely smashed and torn body of her Green opponent was scattered across two dozen yards of road, and his head was perched on top of the shattered remnant of a garden wall. It seemed to be staring bemusedly at the building across the way.

Rose was hovering a good twenty feet above me, with her blades rotating around her in an ominous, silent, dance.

A pair of white-winged Angels in blue militia tunics were orbiting the scene. They were keeping other flyers away.

Beck and Smit were sitting together on some rubble, quietly whispering to each other. Smit's face was buried in his hands and Beck had an arm around his shoulders. Neither Sergeant appeared to notice such a blatant violation of discipline.

A Corporal handed me my buckskin jacket, tooth-and-claw necklace, and staff. Then he bowed politely and stepped away. He also had Rose's helm and dark-purple armor. Rose landed and retrieved them.

I donned my gear. The few militia who were Blood stopped what they were doing and began staring fixedly at me. The Green Sergeant who was arguing with the Blood Sergeant paused in surprise. Then his eyes flickered across Faye and Rose.

"Shit," I heard him mutter as he recognized us. The Blood Sergeant half-smiled in what looked like genuine sympathy.

An elderly Folk housewife picked her way through the scattered rubble and offered Faye an old blanket.

"Yee're shown' da green goods ta da hale world, luv," she told Faye firmly, but with an amused twinkle in her eyes. I didn't recognize her accent.

Faye grinned, thanked the woman, and wrapped the blanket around her body.

I walked over to Beck and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me, her eyes frightened.

"Don't hurt him," she begged as the arm she had around Smit tightened its grip on him. "Please, honored Seeker, don't hurt him. Please."

I shook my head. "We have two prisoners, Beck. I need you to question them," I informed her quietly.

Then I looked at Smit. "Smit, keep an eye on Beck - just in case. We don't know what kind of tricks the prisoners might be able to manage."

Avoiding my eyes, Smit ducked his head and got to his feet. Then he helped Beck get up.

"Prisoners," he muttered to himself as they walked away. "We have prisoners. And there were more than Three Guys, but the Three Guys are all dead. I finally killed the Three Guys. They screamed and broke and died. Screamed and begged and died. Screamed and bled and died."

"Shush," I heard Beck tell him urgently. Smit fell silent.

The two Sergeants had stopped arguing. The long-faced Green was walking through the wreckage, exchanging words with his people.

The Blood Sergeant was waiting for me. I looked at him.

"It's impossible that you don't know what Smit is," I said to the Sergeant.

The nearby militia drifted away - except for a pair of Blood privates. They were standing stock-still and silently listening to the conversation, hanging on my every word. It would be impossible for the Sergeant and I to hide from them what we were saying.

"I know his mother," the Sergeant told me slowly. "She was captured by the Creed on an inland expedition but eventually escaped. She bore triplets, but two of them died in childbirth. Smit is the third."

"And what is Smit's mother to you?" I heard myself ask coldly. Deep inside, I cringed at the harshness of my voice. This was a terrible family tragedy, yet I had no choice but to involve myself.

"She's my grand-daughter," the Sergeant replied. Then he paused before continuing. "She's blameless here, Lady Seeker. Shouldn't a mother care for her child?"

I didn't respond. He was both right and wrong.

"If Smit goes full Creed, you're responsible for killing him," I finally told the Sergeant. Then I looked around at the two Blood militia-men who were so carefully watching us.

"And you will help your Sergeant," I told them. "You all knew about this. So you have taken responsibility whether you intended to or not. The Old One is watching. The goddesses are watching. And most of all, I will be watching."

Almost in unison, their faces filled with grim purpose, the listening Blood all bowed.

"Thank you, honored Seeker," the Sergeant told me quietly. He was obviously relieved that I hadn't immediately ordered Smit's death.

Not sure what to say, I nodded wordlessly. Then I began walking back towards Beck, Smit, and the prisoners.

Faye was by my side. "I didn't know half-Creed and half-Blood were even possible," she said with an amazed shake of her head.

"They usually die before being born, or in childbirth," I told Faye, "the family most often kills any exceptions. It's something that... isn't talked about."

"This a sign, right?" Faye asked after a long moment of thought.

I sighed. "Of course it is."

"What's it mean?"

"I don't know," I admitted.