REAPERS - Book Two: The Hunger and the Sickness

25

Team 3's members sat in wait on a road outside Catatonia that was known to be frequently ambushed by the birdmen. Hendle and the few living witnesses said the Qoldah rode down from the hills and collected tolls and often flesh from any passing traders. The Reapers scanned the foothills that rose up from the flanks of this wide valley. There were many places for the monsters to hide in those undulating roughs. The Reapers hid and waited with stony patience. In time a lone wagon crept along the rutted path and, as predicted, the attackers came quickly from the hills on the backs of swift horsedogs. The riders did indeed have great feathered wings and beaks that gleamed in the moonlight. Kicking up dust, the birdmen descended upon the wagon with shrill cries meant to strike terror but the ears they now met were already steeled by atrocious war.

Their intended prey threw off their cloaks and the wagoneers revealed themselves to be Thirteen and Blacwin. They each shot one of the creatures with their bows, Blacwin piercing his target in the chest and felling it with a single bolt while Thirteen clipped the other's neck and finished him off with a second shot. And yet another for good measure. Eagle-eye Blacwin shot his target to wound, knowing Thirteen would shoot to kill. Better to keep him breathing for the Reapers had questions.

The other commandos made their way down. The men examined the bodies and quickly found these were not the last lingering tribesemen of the Qoldah. They were merely common bandits dressed as the ancient avian people. Their wings were strips of wood crudely plastered with large feathers. Their beaks were of beaten metal. Perhaps the highwaymen wore the costumes to intimidate the superstitious townsfolk and hide their own identities.

The surviving bandit would not speak. It was not clear whether the injury had made him mute, or if he already had been so, or if it was simply a ruse. "You're going to lead us to your nest, rat," said Nail as he manipulated the bolt jutting from the man's ribs. "You understand?" The bandit squirmed in pain and nodded. Vulture tended to the captive's wounds to ensure he did not die as the Reapers forced him to guide them to his hideout. The bandit blacked out many times along the way and the animalist had to rouse him with salts so that he may continue to give them directions by pointing this way and that. The Reapers kept the captive's hands tied and promised him freedom once their work was done. In truth Nail had no intentions of letting this scoundrel walk free. The moons would surely not shake their orbits if one less cutthroat walked the earth.

— • —

Beneath the high arches of Beggar Bridge the countless hungry plucked snails off the columns and cracked their shells on the stones and swallowed the slimy gastropods live on the spot. The spaces under the enormous stone span were thick with the webs of spindle-rats for no one here bothered to keep them cleared each night. Many of the vagrants even made homes and hammocks from the silk's knotted strands, risking becoming mistaken for prey themselves. Skinner recognized a smattering of faces among the throng of despondent souls but kept his hood up and his face down. It was best if he kept his profile low as he looked for anything that might be a clue in his ongoing investigation into the mystery of Camshire's missing children. That ambition for passing unnoticed soon met an abrupt end.

"Skinner! That you, blood? Holy stars!"

Daggers. He'd been recognized. Skinner knew that voice even if it had lost its old luster. He turned and yes it was Ruma. He'd spent a summer with the woman years ago in a dirty flat in a haze of wick and flesh. Back when they were both young and thus demigods. Before the crush of desperation and addiction grew too heavy. And then there had been prison, of which each had their own kind.

"How ya been?" Skinner asked.

"Still above snakes," said Ruma. They embraced and the felon could smell the smite on her. Could see its resin in her pores and hair. "Didn't hear you got out."