Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 19 -- Slagtown and Corona's Next Surprise

Wren? Yes, that girl amazed me--still--amazes me. Gads, to think of the gold I lost when I overlooked her. I kick myself to this day...

--Desiray

Wren sighed as Desiray's magic withdrew from her body. The white-haired woman stepped back and folded her arms. She sized Wren up, green eyes glinting in the dim light. Still dizzy, she could only stare back. Every sense seemed enhanced. The cool night air tingled on her skin, the redolence of the estate garden was vibrant in her nose. Even the stars in the sky appeared to sparkle more brightly. A 'charge', the mistress called it. For a moment, she'd felt invincible. She put a hand on Corona. He hummed. Whatever the Desiray did, seemed to have helped him as well.

"Feel better?" Desiray asked. "You look better."

Wren swallowed. "Wow."

"I'll take that as yes." Her face hardened, so did her voice. Her whole bearing became that of another person. "That's my limit on pleasantness. You and I will get along if you follow orders. Any backtalk, we conclude our business in the alley. We straight?"

Wren nodded.

"Good." As she spoke, Desiray adjusted her armor's buckles and pouches. "Now listen, I can't teleport us into the Guild. There's too much chance of there being someone where I want to appear. We'd be dead before we started. We'll slip through the southern perimeter and use a route into the hall that Vulcindra didn't know. Once inside, we sneak into the dungeon and release any prisoners. When they're free, we go for Hethanon."

A bead of sweat trickled between her eyebrows. Brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, she stared at Desiray. "We're taking on the entire Dagger guild?"

"Aye." Desiray glanced down to where a slithershell was leaving a glistening trail as it crept slowly across a rock. She stomped on it with a squishy crunch. "Got a problem?"

Wren's stomach tightened as she looked at the shattered mess on the rock. "Nah."

***

Mists turned blue-gray from the light of the moon fingered the carcass of Slagtown, a disintegrating collection of shanties, ancient warehouses, and tenements that lay south of Guildhall. Pitted and bowed by time, the contorted walls looked like decaying bone fragments. Broken pillars and insect-riddled wood leaned together like kindling for a massive funeral pyre.

Gusts knifed through the ruins, moaning through the rocks and weak wood. Wren pulled her cloak tighter and hurried to stay at Desiray's side. Slagtown was no place to be alone, even during the day. Scavengers and pests had so badly overrun this area that even toughs steered clear of it. She doubted there'd be Dagger scouts, but stayed wary regardless.

The smell of decay lingered in the air. Wren had come to Slagtown only once in her life, the day the place marked her. One tepid spring day six summers ago, she'd decided to take the short way through the ruins. She'd just received her cut of a successful run and was on her way back from the market where she'd bought herself a sack full of fat red crunch-fruits.

Strolling down the avenue, munching giant mouthfuls of the sweet fruit, she'd been enjoying the sun, the salty-fragrant spring breeze, and the satisfaction of a job well done. Juice ran down her chin and covered her hands. She felt absolutely decadent.

Three scavenger kids sat on a stoop watching her with hunger hollowed eyes. They looked dirty and thin with rags for clothes and an open sky for a roof. Feeling generous, she'd tossed them each one of the big red fruits.

With gasps of pleasure, the kids bit into their gifts, munching with glee. Right then, disheveled men and women flooded out of the ruins with incoherent cries. People screamed. Fabric tore. Bones cracked. The spot where the three children sat became a writhing mass of biting, clawing, human beings. Blood dotted the cobbles. Dead eyes turned on her. Sallow bloody faces grimaced and glared. The scavengers stalked toward her. She threw the bag into their midst and ran. Leaving howls of pain and anger in her wake.