O'ma'gosh! I am so happy with the reviews this story is getting and I really didn't expect it to get all that much attention. Thanks to everyone for hanging in there and sticking with this story. Keep those reviews, favorites, and alerts coming and I'll keep churning out the chapters, peeps! ;D
Lyra was overcome by a sense of nostalgia as she walked the streets of Industrial alone. Well, not entirely alone. Faithful Boy was right by her side and he had learned, by picking up on his mistress' discomfort, to growl at anyone who dared beg for a spare coin. She would smile at her canine companion and whisper a 'good mutt' with each job well done, but her mind was elsewhere. Without consciously making the decision to do so, the wayward princess walked a path much like the one she had taken when she was fifteen on that brief, unscheduled excursion. Her first stop had been the pub and, much to her amusement, she spotted a few of the very same drunks she'd seen five years ago still wasting their lives away at the shabby tables. After purchasing and gulping down a mug of ale herself, Lyra made her way through the alleys.
Inevitably, her wandering brought her into the same backstreet where she'd first laid eyes on him. Feeling the heat curl in her belly just thinking about Reaver, the princess leaned against the wall and stared dreamily at the spot where he had stood. She tried to picture herself standing there, looking up at him, and then she tried to determine what he had seen when he looked at her. Back then, she'd been nothing more than a waifish adolescent, yet he'd been drawn to her regardless of her age and appearance. She was no exotic beauty, not then and not now, but somehow she had caught his eye and that was reason enough to think highly of oneself. At least in her mind. Oh, what she wouldn't give for him to happen upon her now in the very spot of their first meeting. Perhaps that was too much to hope for and too childish a fantasy. Lyra was an adult now and it simply wasn't prudent to hope for a second meeting with Reaver. Not when he would stand to make such a profit off turning her in to the king. And she wouldn't blame him for doing it.
No, Lyra needed to push all thoughts of her idol to the back of her mind and focus on the task at hand. She needed to fool the Bowerstone cretins into thinking she was some kind of savior so they would pledge their support. It was easy enough to accomplish, though a bit tedious. Perform a few tasks and gain some notoriety through good deeds and she'd have the people eating out of her hand. And those that didn't would have the option of eating lead from her pistol. Either way, the shelter seemed like a good place to start. As she exited the alley she noticed a small gathering outside the decrepit-looking building and, hoping it wasn't another pointless protest, headed in that direction.
"I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to go somewhere else tonight," said a woman at the front of the crowd as Lyra joined them. "Somewhere else? And where would that be, exactly? Every other place has been closed down and I'll freeze to death on the streets," a homeless man griped, "And that's if Logan's goons don't bash my skull in first." "You think you're the only one with problems? I'm sorry, I'm just… Look, I wish I could help you, but I can't." The beggars mumbled and complained, but they took their leave. With a sigh, the ginger-haired woman turned towards Lyra when she didn't disperse along with the rest of the crowd. "I hope you're not looking for somewhere to stay because this place is about to close for good. I have no choice. I have to sell the building to pay the ransom; it's the only way to get my fiancé back," she frowned.
The princess needed no further explanation. This woman was exactly the type of person she was looking for. Desperate. "I used to have one of those, you know. A fiancé. My brother had him killed. I was helpless then, but as you can see by my sword and gun, I'm not so helpless anymore. I'll help you get your fiancé back," Lyra said, barely quelling the urge to laugh out loud upon thinking of Elliot. "Oh, thank you! My poor love, it's been agony being apart from him. And it's about time those thugs faced justice. The rough kind! I'm Linda, by the way," the woman said, failing to notice Lyra's rolling eyes when she mentioned the 'agony' she was in, "They've been harassing the local homeless for weeks, but now this… it's outrageous. I know where they are. They demanded I bring them the ransom in a week's time. But I'll bring them something better!"
Lyra was a bit shocked at Linda's enthusiasm. It wasn't often she found someone so eager to rush into danger with her. It was almost a welcomed change. Almost. By now, she was accustomed to fighting alone, or with Walter. The last thing she needed was to babysit some love-struck loon during a scrap with thugs. At least Walter could hold his own. As she followed Linda across the street to what could only be described as a hovel, she wondered just what she'd gotten herself into and desperately hoped that it would all pay off in the end. "Linda," a masculine voice seemed to sneer from behind the door after the woman pounded on it, "You just cost me a bit of gold, love. I bet old Harry it'd take you the full week to get the money. You're an industrious one, ain'tcha?"
"Just open the bloody door, Keith. Let's have done with this," Linda said sternly as the door creaked open. "Right. Mr. Ferret's down those stairs. Whoa, hang on," Keith frowned, spotting Lyra as the pair stepped in, "Who's your friend?" "In your parlance, she's the bagman. And that gold doesn't leave her hands until my fiancé's walked out of your fetid little den." The thug put his hands up defensively and shrugged as he warned them, "Alright, no need to get all uppity. You just watch yourselves around Mr. Ferret or things'll get unfriendly fast." Linda ignored the threat, as did Lyra, and headed directly towards what looked to be a cellar door.
They descended the rather cramped stairway and exited a short hallway into a large room. Several tables lined the walls, each occupied by three or so of Ferret's ruffians. The two women did their best to ignore the leering men and made their way towards the back of the room where the mastermind himself stood just beyond a doorway flanked by two guards. "Ah, Linda," Nigel Ferret droned with a grin, "I cannot tell you how elated I am to have this unfortunate situation brought to a satisfying resolution. Your associate can dispense with her burden by piling the funds upon the table." Linda, in an incredibly bold and snarky tone, replied while crossing her arms, "There's no gold, Ferret. Now you cough up my fiancé from whatever filthy corner you're keeping him in, or my associate is going to start collecting heads. And piling them upon the table."
Lyra quirked a brow at her companion and cracked a smile. She was beginning to like this lady; even if she was only acting so bravely because there was an experienced fighter on her side. She had the kind of attitude the princess could appreciate. Mr. Ferret, on the other hand, was not thrilled by the news and sighed. "My initial judgment of your character was clearly misguided. You possess some heart after all. Lads, tear it out," he said as he slammed the door shut, cutting himself off from the violence that would surely follow such a command. Lyra immediately tensed and shoved Linda out of the way whilst drawing her sword and pistol.
The two guards, as well as the ten thugs seated at the tables, wasted no time in obeying their boss' order and circled the princess. Being outnumbered by a dozen vicious, blood-thirsty goons was something Lyra had gotten used to dealing with these days and she easily dispatched four of them with a well-timed weave of fire and vortex Will. As their bodies fell to the ground in a smoking heap of chard bone and gore, their still living comrades hesitated for only a moment before lunging forth to take on the cackling woman. Now thoroughly engaged in combat, Lyra could spare no more time to weaving a spell and instead had to rely on sword and pistol.
Three more of Ferret's men fell dead, each now sporting a rather gruesome hole between their eyes and several gouges to their midsections. From Linda's point of view, Lyra was enjoying herself a bit too much. She couldn't decide if this Hero she had solicited had something against the less than savory side of Bowerstone or if she simply liked killing. When she first met her, she hadn't seem quite so… violent. As if in answer, a decapitated head rolled up against Linda's feet, causing her to squeal and jump back from the wide-eyed, open-mouthed thing. "Take it easy!" Despite her earlier promise to Ferret, she had not really intended for anyone to lose their head, but Lyra ignored her plea altogether as she plunged her blade cleanly through another man and sliced upwards, separating his right shoulder from his body.
The three remaining men backed off a bit, fearing what the seemingly deranged female would do to them if they continued their assault. She was not about to let them escape, of course, and charged her gauntlets as they turned to flee. They had just about reached the door, their freedom, when the vortex of flames caught them and spun them mercilessly whilst burning the flesh from their bones. When the deed was done, Lyra dusted off the front of her blouse and wiped away the speckles of blood that coated nearly every inch of her face. The motion caused her to wince and she realized that she had not come away from the scrap uninjured. In fact, she was in quite a lot of pain from a particularly nasty gash on her side as well as a bullet lodged somewhere in her shoulder.
Focusing her Will into a single digit on her right hand, she cauterized the cut on her side, gritting her teeth as the fire seared her flesh closed. The bullet, she could deal with for now. Jasper had a certain knack for extracting those pesky projectiles and she would be sure to have him give it a look next time she returned to the Sanctuary. It would make a fine addition to the collection of other bullets, daggers, and debris he had removed from her since she'd began this long journey to the throne. When she turned to Linda, she found her staring back at her, mouth agape. "Well? What were you expecting? I wasn't going to bleed to death," she shrugged, sheathing her blood-soaked sword and holstering her pistol. The woman shook her head gently, banishing her shock as best she could. "Eh, well, I suppose you're right. I just wasn't expecting any on-the-go cauterizing."
"Your men are dead, Ferret," Linda then said, turning towards the door he had hid behind for the duration of the fight, "Unless you want to join them, let us in." "It's open," the man yelped. The pair exchanged a single glance and then shoved the door open. It led to another large room, but this one had only one occupant. Nigel Ferret. He was seated towards the back of the room, near a large hole that, from the smell, lead to the sewers. Linda wasted no time in confronting the crime lord and revealed a pistol, which she aimed at his head. Lyra suddenly felt rather insulted. Just where was that gun-wielding side of the love-struck loon when she was being cut and shot? "You brought this on yourself, Ferret. This didn't have to happen."
It was clear to Lyra that her companion was assuming her fiancé to be dead. He wasn't in the house above, nor these rooms below. She was moments away from pulling the trigger when Ferret threw up his hands defensively and spoke. "It still doesn't! We merely got off on the wrong foot. I'm no threat to you without my men, and I'm only too happy to return your fiancé," he said, flinching when Linda cocked her pistol, "I can be quite accommodating." An obvious weight seemed to lift from the woman's shoulders, but her expression remained hard and stern. "Get on with it then," she ordered. "Well, the thing is, he's actually not on the premises, exactly, at the present time. He's incarcerated within a nearby… facility, shall we say. That access hatch will provide you with… well. Access."
Lyra's eyes drifted back over to the gaping hole at the very back of the room and grimaced. She already knew who'd have to make that dive and she wasn't at all happy about it. "The sewer? You fellows are a sophisticated lot," Linda sneered, turning towards the princess, her voice taking a much softer tone, "Please, go and get him. I'll keep an eye on Ferret." With a groan and a roll of her eyes, Lyra moved over to the edge of the opening and looked down. "Walter was right," she sighed, "We spend too much bloody time in sewers!" Reluctantly, she pinched her nose closed and stepped over the edge.
Chapter 8 will be out later today, or tomorrow. I'm almost finished with it. I'd also like to have you keep a lookout for a songfic I'll soon be uploading. It's the first one I've ever written, but I just had to do it. The song fits a pre-Shadow Court Reaver so perfectly that I couldn't resist. Anyway, thanks for reading!