Chapter Eight

Night of the Archer

JANUS

Janus emerged from the dark and out into the cold. Gretel was still with the boy, who had calmed down considerably. Upon seeing Janus approaching him again, he stiffened in panic.

"It's alright, he's not going to hurt you," Gretel said.

The boy squirmed with evident unease, avoiding his gaze.

Sighing, Janus reached up and pulled his hood back. Unclasping the mask, he took it off and knelt so that he was level with the child. "Like she said, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just a man, not a monster."

The boy finally met his gaze, the fear beginning to dissipate in his eyes. "You are a man?"

"I am," Janus forced a smile. "My real name is Janus. What's yours?"

"Culner," the boy said, his voice still holding some uncertainty.

"Culner, we're here to help you but you've got to help us too. That man who you were with, he was going to take you to someone called Zedrek?"

Culner nodded, his eyes misting. "My old man used to work for them but he died yesterday. Now that he's gone, I figure Zedrek wants to make a quick buck by selling me to the Venheim slavers together with the rest of the kids."

Janus' jaw clenched but he tried to hide his grim disposition. "I'm sorry about your father. What about your mother? Can I take you to her?"

"Died before I was born," Tears welled up in Culner's eyes. "I'm on my own now."

"Damn," he whispered and glanced up at Gretel, who met his eyes with an equally lost look. He exhaled quietly and gently gripped Culner's narrow shoulders. "I know how it feels like to be an orphan. I never knew my father and I grew up with my mother in prison. She died when I wasn't much older than you were. The days ahead will be hard, but with time it will get easier to get through them. I can promise you that."

The boy threw his arms around Janus and wept. Stunned, Janus went stiff for a moment before hugging the boy in return.

Gretel watched the exchange uncomfortably for a long moment before whispering to Janus in a hushed tone. "Janus, we can't leave him out here."

"We aren't." Janus stood up and donned his mask and hood again. Gripping Culner's hand in his own gloved one, he looked down at the boy. "We're going to get you off the streets and take you to a place I know where some people can help you."

Culner dried his eyes. "Where?"

"The Bruvesqkan Catch."

"The Bruvesqkan Catch," Gretel read off the crudely cut out and faded signboard hanging above the steel door that led into the bar. "It's been a while."

Like Gretel and her brother, he'd been away a long time. They'd crossed paths here before, back when Janus was still building his reputation. He hadn't worked with the Witch Hunters then, but had learnt of their rather fearsome achievements, just as they'd learnt of his. There was mutual professional courtesy then, and as Gretel seemed to think, an actual friendship now.

Janus glanced down at the young boy. "Stay close to me."

Culner nodded wordlessly and pressed close to Janus.

"Good." Janus walked up to the steel door and rapped on it thrice. A panel slid open and a pair of narrowed eyes met his own. Those eyes momentarily widened in recognition of Janus' mask, but contracted again in resolve.

"The black hound kills a deer on a cold night with a red moon," the bouncer challenged.

"It howls not out of savagery, but of nature. For one born of predatory blood knows no violence, only survival." Janus finished.

The bouncer nodded, but got a good look at Janus and his companions. "The kid stays outside."

"No, he's coming with me."

"Children aren't allowed in the den."

"We need to see Cheyenne."

"I'm sorry."

Janus leaned closer to the door, his gaze piercing the man's eyes. "You know who I am and what I'm capable of," his mechanical voice was an eerie whisper. "Don't make me do this in front of the boy."

The bouncer hesitated for a brief moment, and the bolt whined as it was pulled back to open the door.

Janus signalled for Gretel and the boy to follow him, and the trio walked into the bar. It was just as Janus had remembered. Dimly lit but extremely well furnished and grand, owing to the steep prices set for wealthy patrons who knew what kind of place the Bruvesqkan Catch really was. The couches were lined with velvet, the tables built out of solid marble. Even the smell was posh, a mix of the most coveted whiskey and traces of vetiver.

Gretel whistled softly. "Hansel's going to regret missing this. It looks even more expensive than the last time I've been here."

Janus turned to the bouncer. "Where can I find Cheyenne?"

Before the bouncer could respond, a man with greying hair and a full beard came into sight and waved the bouncer away. "That'll be all, Quinos. I will handle our guests from here." He turned to Janus, his eyes wide with disbelief. "De Vesques? My boy, is that really you?"

"Cheyenne." Janus gripped the man's forearm in greeting. "It's good to see you."

Cheyenne chuckled with delight. "The last I saw you was…"

"Too long ago," Janus finished for him. "I've missed you, old man."

"While you look the same as ever." Cheyenne shook his head and for the first time noticed Janus' companions. He stared back up at Janus with a shocked expression. "Family?"

"No," Janus said quickly, gesturing at Gretel. "She's an associate of mine."

Gretel nodded, her face set in stone.

"I think we have met before," Cheyenne dipped his head slightly, face etched in a slight frown. "You ever work for the Syndicate?"

"My brother and I," Gretel said.

"Ah, yes. Now I remember. The infamous Witch Hunters. How could I forget?" Cheyenne looked down at Culner. "And the kid?"

Janus lowered his voice further. "A street orphan we rescued from a gang belonging to someone called Zedrek."

"And you need old Cheyenne's connections."

Janus nodded. "We need you to get him the help he needs. Food, proper shelter…guardians."

"Leave it to me," Cheyenne snapped his fingers and a lady in a business suit came hastily.

"Sir?" she said.

"Take the kid to my office and contact Wester. I'll make arrangements with him later." Cheyenne smiled at Culner. "Don't worry, kid. Old Cheyenne's going to make sure you're set up somewhere good."

Culner looked up at Janus and Gretel.

Janus knelt down before the boy. "You'll be alright. I promise," he watched as Culner left with Cheyenne's associate, feeling melancholy.

"Poor bastard. Kind of reminds me of you," Cheyenne remarked a little too loudly for Janus' liking. "Orphan looking to forge his destiny in a sad, cruel dump like Bruvesqk. Who knows what he'll grow up to be?"

Janus grunted. "Any chance we could find somewhere to sit?"

"Damn. Where the hell are my manners." Cheyenne shook his head as he motioned for the duo to follow him. "Getting forgetful in my old age."

"That I can agree with." Janus and Gretel sat opposite Cheyenne on comfortable couches.

"Bruvesqkan cocktail, if I remember rightly?" Cheyenne asked.

Janus nodded.

"And you, sweetheart?"

"The same, please."

Cheyenne clicked his tongue. "My dear, you're audacious."

Gretel raised an eyebrow at Janus, who shrugged in response.

The old man snapped his fingers again and a bartender came running to take their orders.

"Two Bruvesqkan cocktails and a black tea." Cheyenne said.

"Black tea?" Janus questioned as the bartender lumbered off.

"The liver doesn't agree with me too well anymore," Cheyenne sighed. "Wife says I got to look after my health. No drinking, no red meat, you know the drill," He shook his head. "Enough about me. What are you doing back in Bruvesqk? Last I remembered, you wanted nothing more to do with this place."

"Things change." Janus removed his mask and hood.

Cheyenne cursed when he saw the eyepatch. "What happened?"

"A mistake," Janus said shortly. "But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm back now."

"Ah." Cheyenne leaned back in his seat as the bartender laid their drinks on small coasters. "Looking to get back into business?"

"Yes."

"But why come back here?"

"Because this town is a cesspool of disease. We're here to clean up the city and get paid doing it," Janus said.

"Good choice," Cheyenne looked pleased. "Finding work here is much easier than across the ocean, what with that war going on. You heard about the Exonian Empire waging war on the Confederation?"

"We were part of it."

"Ah." The old man sipped on his tea. "That explains the eyepatch," He tutted with disappointment. "Such a shame. I want to hear all about it."

"Cheyenne," Janus' tone bordered on a growl. "Not now. We're just here to get back to the way things were. I want to know what I've missed since I was gone."

"Just the usual," Cheyenne said dismissively. "Bruvesqk's gone to shit what with all the new players that've crawled out of the drain. Saltoni, Corben, Zedrek, Tulgari and the rest of the bastards think they own the city and the Syndicate's stuck in the middle of a massive turf war. Only thing that matters to us is who pays more for our services."

Janus folded his arms. "Zedrek and his trafficking ring. Tell me what you know."

"As it happens, I have a contract open. Someone wants Zedrek and his business off the table," Cheyenne put down his cup. "You want in?"

"Just as long as the client isn't like the last one you signed me up with," Janus grimaced. He remembered vividly how that contract went down.

"No, no. The client is someone I know and trust," Cheyenne said quickly. "You trust old Cheyenne, don't you?"

"I do."

"Good, then you'll take the contract?"

"Yes," he said with conviction. He'd seen firsthand how a child had been affected by Zedrek, whoever he was. The bastard had just made himself Janus' first target.

"Excellent." Leaning back in his seat, Cheyenne looked pleased. "No one wanted this job because they were too scared to go near someone as powerful as Zedrek. He's been controlling the west half of the city for about more than a year now, consolidating his power. Our client will pay very well if you can deliver."

"In all the time you've met me, have I never delivered?"

"Only once," Cheyenne went solemn. "And we both know when that was."

Gretel glanced at Janus, who simply looked ahead. He wasn't particularly in the mood for talking about one of his greatest failures.

The 'Red Fox' had been his target, but he'd failed to complete the contract because the target was just a child. A little girl who'd been marked for death by a corrupt politician. He'd tried to protect her with everything he had once he'd realised he'd been hired to kill a kid. But in the end, he'd failed thanks to the numerous assassins sent after them. She had died thinking he was a good man. She died believing a lie.

"But I know you will not fail again," Cheyenne snapped him out of his thoughts. "You are the best mercenary I have in the Syndicate. No one has ever had more success than you. With you back, the Syndicate will make a fortune. It's good that you are home, boy."

Janus glanced at his surroundings, sensing the attention of those in the den. "Not so sure the other hunters would agree with your sentiment."

"Bah," Cheyenne waved off his concern. "When have you ever bothered about what the others think?"

"Never."

"Now that they know you're back, they'll be careful to steer clear of you and your allies. Every living Syndicate member knows what happened the last time the Syndicate's assassins got greedy and went up against Prometheus."

"Good," Janus said. "You'll set up the meet with your client?"

"I will," Cheyenne glanced at Janus' equipment. "Though you could probably use some new gear. I'll take you and your friend to the armoury to stock up."

"Make it enough for three," Janus said. "We have another partner."

Cheyenne looked surprised. "Three? Since when did you like working with partners?"

Janus glanced sidelong at Gretel and decided not to answer the question. "Look, can you get us enough for three?"

The old man looked offended. "Of course, boy. The Syndicate has enough ammunition and weapons to fuel an entire civil war," He stood up. "I will see to the arrangements. Don't go anywhere," He took Gretel's hand gently and kissed it. "Miss."

Gretel watched as the old man walked off to one of the other rooms. "He's like a father to you, isn't he?"

Janus avoided eye contact. "Something like that."

"Just watching and learning tonight," Gretel smiled a little. "It makes you all the more intriguing."

"I don't think I want to know."

"There's two sides to Prometheus, as far as I can tell," Gretel continued. "The one everyone's terrified of, and the one who actually cares."

Neglecting to respond, Janus took a long pull from his cocktail.

"Take tonight for instance. The man you chased into the block screamed so loud it echoed out into the street and made me shiver. Do I even want to know what you did to him?"

Janus set down his mug. "No."

"And then you came out of that building and won that kid over without much effort," Gretel went on. "That's something I've never seen before."

He glowered at her. "What's your point?"

"My point is I never would have thought you had a softer side. Apart from seeing you with Elsa, that is." Unnerved, Gretel met his gaze. "It's just that I never really knew how you were like underneath all that brooding and vengeance."

Janus narrowed his eyes. "And how's that?"

"No offence, but I didn't think you had that kind of compassion and sympathy in you."

"I prefer to keep it in the dark."

Gretel frowned. "Why?"

"So that I can forget that I have a conscience." He muttered under his breath and drank deeply.

Author's Commentary:

Janus. The big bad man in black, willing to kill and maim. Yet not completely without a heart, despite what he tries to tell himself. It makes him a complex, complicated character, which is why I love writing him.