Chapter 16

Larger than Life

Sirendor came to with a start and jerked upright – or he tried to. He fell hard to the ground from what he supposed was a plank bed of some description. Reaching for his weapons he scuttled backwards until his back hit a wall. He was unarmed. The room was rather dark. Someone chuckled. 'There now, boy, you're among friends.' The voice was unfamiliar.

Sirendor rubbed his temple. His head still hurt from the kick. 'Fuck you.'

'Language, young man.' Varilia's voice had a note of amusement and a certain quality it didn't usually have. Fear wasn't exactly it. Caution. Reservation. 'Wendell and I want to protect you.'

Sirendor swallowed. He hated this. He wasn't cut out to be a spy. What had he been thinking? 'Yeah?' he asked. 'You mages? Got enough of their protection, I have.'

'There are no mages here.' The male voice again. 'Varilia here saved you out of one's grasp.'

'You are lucky. The mage was egging the ghoul on, probably even controlled its mind.'

As far as Sirendor was aware, mages couldn't do any such thing. At least Balaian mages couldn't. 'Yes! I thought it was unusually vicious.' He swallowed. 'I tried to fight, but then the fire came and I thought I'd die. The ghoul nearly broke my skull.' They had rehearsed the story. Sirendor would be attacked, and Varilia would chase it away with one of her flasks. She would also knock Sirendor out. Better not pretend too much. Just to be sure, Sirendor was supposed to use what she had taught him. Just not enough to actually win.

When Varilia had revealed to him that she was spying on the group Sirendor was after – the Preservers, they called themselves – he had first thought that she would turn him in. In fact, he still wasn't too certain who she was truly working for. He didn't just dislike spying, he disliked spies in general. But in the end, he had decided to take the leap of faith. If this woman was a friend to Regis, she was on his side. If indeed Regis was on their side. Sirendor refused to follow that particular train of thought.

'Varilia took care of the ghoul,' Wendell answered. 'The mage, however, escaped.'

Sirendor spat on the ground. 'Shame. The ghoul's mindless. The mage is a thinking abomination.'

'Ah. I am in luck it seems. Someone has seen the truth.'

'Not only now.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning … who am I talking to, exactly? Except Wendell.'

'I am the second in command of the Preservers. Does that mean anything to you?'

'No. Not at all.'

'Then it is time we remedy that. I suppose you are hungry, no? Please follow me. According to our Varilia, you should be all right. If standing up or the brighter light outside make you nauseous, we will wait until you feel better.'

Ϡ

Delia was shaking. She had been calm enough at first, but finally the gravity of what had happened had sunk in. 'They'll murder me. They'll murder me a lot more viciously than anything you can imagine.'

'Trust me, we can imagine a lot,' Hirad said lightly.

The Unknown gave him a look. 'What he was trying to say is that you are safe here.'

'I would be safe if you hadn't started to meddle! Let them kill whoever they want, I just want to be left alone.'

'Can't do that. Got to do our job, you see. That doesn't mean we'll let you get slaughtered in the middle of it all.'

Delia wasn't convinced. 'It sounded differently before.'

Ilkar smiled. 'Well. If we had told him we weren't going to harm anyone just for refusing to cooperate, it wouldn't have been very impressive. We don't go around and murder people. What happened there … was an accident.'

Delia nodded. 'I've seen rogue magic before. Uncontrolled magic. Fire that consumed our stables, taking everything from us.'

'And instead of rebuilding you turned to theft.' Will raised his hands. 'Not accusing you, just stating the facts. What I wonder is, how do you go from pickpocket to organised crime?'

Delia shrugged. 'It's how it is here. The guards catch you, the authorities offer you a choice. Jail or working for them.'

'The government approves of this?'

'No. But many of the guards are corrupt.'

The Unknown folded his hands. 'That is … not what I hoped for, but valuable information. Now, I have a question for you, before we continue this. And I want to make it clear that you can tell us the truth. We won't throw you out to the vultures because we don't agree with your opinion. Do you support what these people are doing?'

Delia seemed to consider his question for a moment. 'For a time, I did. But the thing is, they murder anyone that gets in their way. Humans, too.'

'So killing elves is all right, is it?' Hirad asked. Ilkar placed a hand on his arm, but the barbarian refused to be mollified. 'No, I think we should be clear on this. Not throwing her out is one thing, but keeping someone who would see you dead here and able to work against us is something else entirely.'

'Killing elves is all right if they kill us first,' Delia said defiantly.

'Maybe they kill you first because you drive them out of the cities or force them to live in squalor!'

'Hirad, I don't think you're helping.'

'I talked to Regis, Unknown. They are secluded in ghettos and barely allowed outside. They're blamed for everything wrong with the world, along with mages. For bad harvests, bad weather, rats, anything.'

'Hirad.' The barbarian closed his mouth. 'I know. Gods burning, let her answer.'

'I do not … I mean … No, of course, you can't kill them all just for what they are. I know that well enough.' Delia shook her head. 'You know, it'll be tough to get that out of people's heads. It's always been this way, you see?'

'Your society is struggling and needs someone to blame.' The Unknown shrugged. 'Well. Are you going to hinder us?'

'No. I … look, I can't help you much. But maybe I know someone who can.'

Will chuckled. 'Because that's worked so well so far.'

Delia looked at him. 'True. But this is different. He tried to fight them when they first emerged. Not directly, but by telling people they were wrong. Loudly. Got himself into jail for a time and when he re-emerged he was louder than before.'

'How can we find him?'

'That's the difficult part. He appears and yells out his protest and then he vanishes again, sometimes for days, sometimes for months. I suspect he's just an ordinary citizen, and when it gets too much, often after some major act of violence, he dons a tattered brown robe, a fake beard, and gets on the market to preach.'

'When was he last here?' asked Will.

'Just three days ago. He won't come back for a while.'

'Unless some atrocity coaxes him out – or someone finds him.'

Delia gave the little man a look that showed clearly she doubted he was able to do any such thing. 'You're hardly the first to try.'

Will's lips curled. 'I won't try anything at all.'

A slight smile formed on The Unknown Warrior's face. 'No. But someone here was quite eager to be helpful. Let's give him something to do that's actually his area of expertise.'

Ϡ

Sirendor hardly believed his luck when he was allowed to leave. He'd returned to the inn, thoughtful, worried, wondering. The talk with Varilia and the man who called himself Wendell had made him feel like he was trying to hold a breaking dam in place with his bare hands. Varilia had done nothing to make him feel any better, but then again, she couldn't have. Sirendor had told them both that he had a history with the blackwings. He smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation. It hadn't been a lie, although being killed by them as collateral damage would hardly make him friendly towards them.

His task, for the moment, would be to learn to defend himself from magical attacks. Sirendor had left out the fact that he had battled mages before, multiple times, and knew how to fight them and how not to die immediately if he wasn't shielded. He had also been told that if he didn't have the stomach to hunt heretics, he could work as a supplier. Sirendor had jumped on that opportunity. It would still help the Preservers, that couldn't be avoided, but it would also help him. Varilia was to watch over him while he proved himself, which was also a relief, and he would, perhaps, gain their trust and learn something useful.

It turned out that the Preservers had people out there looking for likely stashes of valuables. Sometimes these were abandoned hiding places of bandits, sometimes they were caravans that had been attacked on the roads. Usually, not by people. People tended to take what they could. So following these trails generally meant monsters.

After the first two forays into a wet cavern full of drowners and a forested area that was quiet enough because it was daytime and whatever lived there obviously preferred the night, they received intelligence of a cache that was labelled as hazardous. This one was up on top of a hill. It could be reached without being an expert climber, but, so the note delivered to Varilia said, the two trying to get there before hadn't come back and the inhabitants of the nearest village refused to venture there.

Somehow, Sirendor felt a sense of foreboding as they trekked up the sloping path. Varilia was frowning, checking everywhere including the skies. When asked, she would merely shake her head and tell Sirendor to be silent and to keep listening for anything out of the ordinary. At last, they reached the top of the hill. There was no sign of any living being, the winter sun warm enough to melt the snow and turn the area into a treacherous muddy slide.

At last, Varilia broke her silence. 'I wonder if we've got the right hill.' She started to look around, cautiously running her hands through the few patches where the snow was still too thick to see through. 'Ah,' she said finally. 'Look what we've got here.' She held up a sword and chuckled. 'Silver, too. Keep it.'

'We're supposed to deliver them, aren't we?'

Varilia shrugged. 'It won't be long now, Sirendor. We're almost ready to strike. You'll see.' She tossed him the blade and he caught it deftly. 'Thing is, this surely wasn't placed here for our benefit. Keep looking.'

Sirendor walked to Varilia's patch of muddy snow and paced from it to the rocks ahead. One side of the hill was steep and rocky, not quite the pleasant walk they'd had chosen to come up here. Here, behind the rocks, the snow was still deeper. Sirendor poked it with the sword and felt a light resistance. He considered reaching in with his hands but used the sword to brush the sleet aside instead. He was glad about that decision when he found a corpse that had its guts torn open. 'Varilia.'

The vampire was at his side at once and expected the dead man's clothing. 'Order of the Flaming Rose. Explains the silver sword.'

'Ah. Your blackwings, although not quite so nutty.'

'Them. Yes.' She looked wistfully at the mangled body. 'Interesting wounds. Suppose he wanted to kill whatever lives up here, dropped his sword, and tried to hide behind this here rock.' She poked him with his foot. 'Didn't help much. And it seems that no wolves or other scavengers dare to come here to eat him, either. Nor did what killed him feel overly hungry.'

'Well. He's cold enough not to melt the snow, so he must have been dead for a while. And what killed him doesn't seem to like him either.'

'Hoarding supplies, I'd guess. Predator, semi-intelligent at least.'

'Great. And where? If people come here to look for it, you'd see a trace, wouldn't you?'

'I wonder about that.' Varilia ambled over to the edge, where the cliff fell steeply, as if someone had cleaved a chunk away with a gigantic axe. Sirendor moved to her side, and together they peeked down.

And just like that, it all became obvious. Below them was a ledge, at least as wide as Sirendor was tall, and on it, hugging the wall, was a nest, like that of a bird, only huge. Bones littered the ground beside it, varying in size. And there, half next to, half beneath the huge nest, were what had to be the two agents of the Preservers. Or rather, what was left of them. Their weapons and possessions were there with them. The reason why they had gone down to the nest was also apparent. The creature had decorated its nest with glittering things. Some were just scraps of metal, but others were likely to be valuable.

The ledge was not far beneath them. Sirendor would have to jump to reach the edge, but he knew he had the strength to pull himself back up. He assumed Varilia was also able to do that. 'So do we try and take away the decoration?'

Varilia bit her lower lip. 'I wonder what lives here, Sirendor. It doesn't seem to be home, but when it returns, we won't be fast enough to escape.'

'Stay up there. Run if you must.'

'Sirendor …'

'Trust me.' Heart racing, Sirendor sat on the ledge and lowered himself down. He started plucking gems, bracelets, a locket, and various pieces of what might or might not be silver cutlery and stuffed them into the leather bag they had brought.

'Sirendor, get up here.' There was a note of urgency in Varilia's voice that told him he should stop. It also told him not to look.

Sirendor hurled the bag up to her. 'Run!' He jumped, even found purchase with one foot and pushed himself up. Varilia helped, grabbing his wrist with both hands and pulling hard. 'I said run.'

'Shut up and move.' The vampire pushed the sword he had left on top back into his hand. Sirendor turned his head and stared at what approached them, massive wings powering the huge beast forwards.

'What the hell …' He didn't get to finish the sentence when the monster was there, faster than he had thought. Varilia took a step forwards and in front of him, shielding him with her body. Sirendor was too slow to push her out of the way. The impact landed them both on the ground. The monster rose back into the air, and Sirendor got to his feet fast, pulling Varilia with him.

'Gods drowning! Are you all right?' Her face and throat had been savaged by the huge claws. A human would be dead or dying, but Varilia merely seemed annoyed, glaring after the bird-thing. 'What is that even?'

Varilia spun him around until he faced the trees on the side of the path leading down. 'Cockatrice, Wyvern,' she managed. 'Who cares, move!'

The thing was coming back, braking its descent and pulling up sharply this time. At last, Sirendor started to run, Varilia close behind him. She steered him towards the underbrush, but their feet didn't carry them anywhere near fast enough. A screech above them betrayed how close the monster had come once again, and less than a second later, it crashed into their backs. He flew forwards, landing hard despite the moisture of the ground, and tumbled onwards into the underbrush and against a tree trunk. Winded and aching, he scrambled to his feet.

His hand still clutched the silver sword. How he had managed not to impale himself or Varilia on it was anyone's guess. Varilia was swearing next to him, checking the scrapes on his face and arms more with more fuss than he liked. 'I'm good,' he said. In truth, he wasn't. His arm had scraped over a rock and was bleeding. The monster had flown off again. 'This thing didn't really want to eat us, did it?'

'Since you can ask me that question, no. Are you sure you're all right?' She grabbed his arm, feeling it cautiously. 'Not broken.'

'No, I said I'm good. You? By rights, you should be dead.'

'I'm not a frail human. Don't worry.'

Sirendor grinned. 'But look at this!' He pulled the bag open, stuffed as it was with valuables. 'Suppose I can actually keep the sword. This is more than enough. What's that thing doing with this anyway?'

'Decorating. Don't ask me how its mind works, I wouldn't know.' She rose to her feet and wiped some of the blood off her face with her sleeve. If anything, it made her look even worse, revealing the open wounds left by the creature. 'Would you mind continuing this discussion elsewhere? With fewer things around that stand an actual chance to eat me?'

Sirendor got to his feet and started walking downhill gingerly. He was going to have bruises all over his body, that much was certain. 'I know one thing, though,' he said.

'Just the one?'

Sirendor swatted to his side, catching Varilia's shoulder. 'I should have gone with the Raven. I panicked, but I needn't have.'

'I could have told you that from the start, Sirendor.' Varilia smiled. 'You choice. Go after them, or see this through to the end with me and follow them then. It's not going to be long now.' She lowered her voice even though they were alone. 'I have already sent a letter clearing our arm in Pont Vanis for action. My contact has yet to reply, but once I get his letter, it will start.'

'What exactly?'

Varilia's smile turned into an open-mouthed grin. 'If you stay, you'll see.'