Jon Sprunk - Shadow’s Lure

Hubert’s hand settled on her shoulder. Josey tried to shake him off, but he pulled her away. He was saying something, but it took a moment to sink in.

“They’re gone, Josey. They’re all gone.”

She leaned against him as heavy sobs shook her body. More people dead, because of her. Life had been so simple once; she longed for those days with a thirst like she’d never known. Wiping her eyes, she stood up straight. They weren’t out of this yet.

One lantern remained, sitting upright on the floor. A minor blessing. She picked it up as Volek climbed to his feet. The major’s armor was dusty and pocked with dents, but he seemed unhurt. Another piece of luck, but she would have traded a score of Crimson Tigers to have Hirsch back.

“All right, gentlemen.” She forced her voice to steadiness. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re heading back to the last fork and taking the other tunnel. We’ll keep working our way back until we find the other side of this blockage.”

Hubert glanced at the major. “Majesty, what if there is no way around?”

“There is. And we’re going to find it.”

Volek picked up his sword and brushed the dirt from its guard. Hubert nodded with a sigh of resignation.

The major led them back down the tunnel. The silence seemed more oppressive without the others, the darkness more ominous. Josey couldn’t keep herself from glancing over her shoulder every few steps. The emptiness behind her pulsed like a living thing. At any moment she expected an ambush.

When they reached the split, the major turned into the unexplored branch, but Hubert drew Josey aside with a glance. His left arm was pressed against his side.

“Majesty, I believe we should leave. We can return later with more-”

“No. We are going to find the others, and then we’ll all leave together.”

His eyes searched her face. “They’re dead. No one could have survived.”

“We’re going to make sure, Hubert. That’s the least we can do.”

With a small nod, he followed after the major. Josey quickened her pace to keep up. Major Volek waited at the next fork. Josey pointed to the right-hand tunnel, hoping it led in the right direction.

After a few dozen paces, Josey caught a whiff of an unpleasant odor, faint at first, but it grew fouler the farther they walked. Wrapped up in her thoughts, Josey didn’t notice Major Volek had stopped until she and Hubert came up beside him at the entrance of a long cavern. The floor sloped away from the entrance, its contours smoothed as if by the passage of countless feet. She looked down where the major’s gaze had settled.

Two bodies lay at their feet, a woman and a young boy. If not for their pale waxen skin and perfect rigidity, they might have been sleeping, but Josey knew they were dead at first glance.

When did I become an expert on death? Is this Caim’s doing, or the price for wearing the crown?

The stench was overpowering. Josey held a sleeve across her face and breathed through her mouth as she looked deeper into the cavern. Horror crawled up her throat at the sight of more bodies. Scores of them. Men and women, many of them stripped nude, their limbs tangled together like a jumble of discarded dolls. Her insides quivered at the sight. So many people. My people.

Hubert bent down over the nearest corpse. “This must be the assassin’s larder.”

Feeling like she was observing from miles away, Josey watched Hubert inspect the body of a young woman. Long strands of brassy hair lay tangled around her slender neck. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen, still in the bloom of youth. Scraps of a red dress clung to her torso. Ragged gashes shone against the alabaster of her throat.

Major Volek gestured with his sword. “We should keep moving.”

Josey started to agree, but then Hubert lifted the girl’s hands. They were bound with rope, as were her feet. He turned the girl’s head to the side. A ghastly mark had been seared into her cheek. Josey knew the mark-a rounded upside-down teardrop. The demon’s horn. A cold spot formed in Josey’s chest.

Hubert fingered the red fabric. “She was a whore.”

Josey tried to imagine what the girl’s life must have been like to sell her body at such a tender age, and then to be marked like livestock and murdered in this fashion. It was unbearable.

“How did she come to be down here?” she asked, more to herself than anyone else.

Hubert stood up. “Exile is still a common punishment for those convicted by the Church’s magistrates. Perhaps the assassin hunts outside the city and brings his victims back here to feed.”

Josey took off her cloak and draped it over the girl’s corpse. “From this day on, no citizen of my realm shall be punished by the canonical courts without the crown’s consent.”

Hubert nodded, but his eyes were deep in thought. The major grunted. Holding up the lantern, Josey walked past the men. She wanted this to be over. The sooner, the better.

As she picked her way through the charnel pit, Josey searched out the dimensions of the cavern and any possible exits. Chalky rock formations studded the ceiling in several places. While the left-hand wall was relatively straight, the wall to her right curved away. Deep shadows swathed the area beyond.

Hubert came up beside her. His face was paler than before and covered in sweat. She nodded forward, and he moved ahead while she held the lantern’s light on him. A faint sound whispered in the dark. Josey turned and spied something emerging from around the bend of the wall. A person. Invisible hands closed around her windpipe. She lifted the lantern higher. Broad, coarse features came into focus. Scuffed boots and a shabby coat. Could it be…?

Josey rushed over to Hubert as he raised his sword and put a hand on his arm. “Master Hirsch?”

With a rasping sigh, the adept staggered into the light. His coat was covered in rock dust. He had lost his hat. Dirt matted his hair, and his left eye was swollen shut.

Josey pushed past Hubert. “Where are the others? Captain Drathan? His men?”

The adept shook his head as he shuffled closer. “Gone. Your Majesty.” His voice creaked with the strain of saying even that much.

Josey froze. Something was wrong. The adept’s gait was choppy and slow, which was to be expected. He looked like the entire city had fallen on his head. His shoulders were bent forward like an old man’s, but there was a strange cast to his eyes.

Josey handed Hubert the lantern, which he took with his bad arm. “A tragedy, Master Hirsch. But thank the heavens you survived.”

A stale odor emanated from the adept’s clothes as he staggered up to her. Josey lifted her arm in an embrace. His breath was hot on her neck as she pulled him close.

When you’re faced with danger, don’t wait for an opening. Strike hard and fast, because you won’t get a second chance.

Josey punched upward. The adept went rigid against her. She staggered into Hubert, who hissed through his teeth as he caught her. The adept swayed, his features running like melted wax as he clawed at the glowing stiletto lodged in his throat. Josey looked into eyes turned jet black, and panic seized her limbs. But the assassin collapsed on the uneven floor. Gasping and mewling, it retreated to the wall, where it stopped, no longer resembling Hirsch at all. It had shrunken to a rail-thin frame wrapped in glistening gray-black flesh, with tiny ears close against a hairless scalp, a flat nose with a single nostril, and gaping jaws filled with curved fangs.

Hubert pulled Josey away. “How did you know?”

She released the breath she had held pent-up inside her. “Master Hirsch never called me by my title. And the smell. He reeked of death.”

As Hubert started to turn away, he fell to his knees in front of Josey. She thought he had tripped until she saw the dark stain spreading across the back of his jacket. A large boot lashed out of the darkness to kick the lord chancellor to the ground.