Raging Sea and Trembling Earth: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Two (Soul Force Saga Book 2) (19 page)

A
lden and Imogen
flew towards the merchant’s district. Carmen lived there with her parents in a modest two-story house on Scale Street. Alden didn’t expect to find Carmen home, but he hoped her parents might have an idea where she’d go if she was in trouble. Below them the wealthier section of the city hadn’t fared all that much better than the working class districts. Everywhere he looked buildings lay in shambles. No fires burned at least. Alden’s throat still felt raw from the smoke he’d breathed in. One thing about nature, she didn’t care how much gold you had.

“What do you think of the archmage’s new favorite?” Imogen asked.

“Damien? Seems like a nice kid. Works hard, doesn’t complain.” Alden shook his head. “He also scares the hell out of me. Some of the stuff he’s done in only a year doesn’t seem quite human.”

“Do you think she puts too much faith in the boy?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”

Imogen’s lips quirked in what passed for a smile. “I think not. I’ve become quite comfortable in my position with the legion and have no desire to leave.”

“Good call. Besides, as far as I know Damien’s never failed on a mission. When you think what they’ve asked the kid to do, that’s remarkable.”

“It certainly is. I believe that’s the Warren house down there.”

They landed and in the light of a conjured globe Alden compared the number on the post outside to the number on his scroll. “Yeah, this is it.”

No light burned in the windows. The curtains were open, but nothing moved inside. The house seemed pretty intact beyond some smashed windows. They’d gotten off luckier than some.

“You want to scout it or just head in?” Alden asked.

“These are just normal people, certainly no threat to us.” Imogen strode down the path, up to the door, and knocked. “This is the Crimson Legion! Open up in the king’s name!”

Alden joined her beside the silent house. “I thought you were against shouting?”

“There’s a time and place for everything. I sense no soul force inside, do you?”

Alden cocked his head and focused. He’d never been the best when it came to detecting others. He shook his head. “Nothing. What do you say we go in and have a look?”

“My plan exactly.” Imogen conjured a blob of energy and pushed it into the keyhole. The blob shifted into a key and popped the lock.

Alden sent a handful of lights in ahead of them. The foyer held nothing but an empty bench. They continued on into the kitchen. Alden opened a cupboard and found it empty. No dishes, no food, no sign anyone lived here.

“Are you certain this is the correct place?” Imogen asked.

“It’s the right address, but if a family of three lives here they’re the neatest family in history and they eat out a lot.”

The living room couch had a thick layer of dust matched by the one on the empty bookcase. The hearth was clean and free of ashes. Alden shook his head. No one had lived here in a while.

The second floor had three small, empty, dust-filled rooms. The only sign of life was a line of mouse tracks in one of the rooms. When they’d searched the house from top to bottom they returned to the foyer.

“This was a waste of time,” Imogen said.

“No, it wasn’t. We know Carmen lied about living here which makes her an even bigger suspect. Let’s see what the neighbors have to say.”

Alden walked to the next house over, a two-story building identical to the one they’d just searched. Light spilled out from drawn curtains that blocked the broken windows. A trickle of smoke rose from the chimney. He rapped on the door and a moment after Imogen joined him it opened.

A middle-aged man with a great belly and no hair squinted at them in the glare of their conjured lights. He looked first at Imogen. The men, and Alden reluctantly admitted, most of the women, always looked at her first. The man’s gaze shifted to Alden. “Can I help you?”

“We’re with the Crimson Legion, sir. What can you tell us about the house next door?” Alden pointed at the abandoned house so the homeowner would know which one he meant.

“Oh, the old Warren place. It’s been empty since the first part of winter. Old lady Warren died and no one’s been around since. Shame really. It’s a nice house.”

“Did Mrs. Warren have any family?”

“There was a young woman that used to come around maybe six months ago. Don’t know if she was kin or not and I haven’t seen her since the old lady died.”

Alden dug out the scroll. “About five foot six, slim, long brown hair, mid-twenties?”

“That sounds about right. I never talked to the woman myself. My wife caught me looking once and I ate nothing but beans for a week.” He offered a what-can-you-do shrug.

“Did you ever see the young woman with anyone else?”

“No.” The man pointed back up the street toward the castle. “She always came from that way and left that way.”

Imogen turned and walked away. The bald man’s gaze locked on her ass and a smile crept across his face.

Alden shook his head. “If Imogen catches you staring at her you’ll have bigger problems than beans for dinner.”

“Not very friendly, is she?”

“No, not very.”

“Great ass though.”

Alden stole a glimpse. “I can’t argue with you there.”

“You know, that reminds me. There was another person that came to visit the Warren place.”

“Oh?”

“A redheaded sorcerer. She had a nice ass too. Not as nice as your friend, but not bad. That was just a week before old lady Warren died.”

Alden’s stomach twisted. “How do you know she was a sorcerer?”

“When she left the house she flew away. Damnedest thing was, she was barefoot. There had to be a foot of snow.”

“Thank you, sir. You’ve been a big help.” Alden rushed to catch up to Imogen. “The redhead from Port Valcane was here a week before Mrs. Warren died.”

“Are you certain it’s the same woman?”

“How many redheaded sorcerers are there that like to go barefoot? It must be her.”

“If a known agent of Connor Blackman came visiting then Carmen must be our spy.”

I
mogen went
to report to the archmage while Alden sought out Holly. He found her asleep in the little cot he’d set up for her right by the kitchen. The scents of baking bread and frying bacon mingled in the air and set Alden’s stomach rumbling. It had been close to twelve hours since he or Imogen ate anything. While his partner sometimes went days operating on nothing but anger Alden planned to grab a snack before they headed back out.

He looked down at Holly. Her mouth hung partway open and she clutched her pillow like a stuffed animal. She looked so peaceful he hated to wake her. Unfortunately they needed information and she was the person most likely to have it.

A gentle shake of her shoulder brought a groan and one open eye. When she registered his presence Holly rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Have you found Jonny?”

“Not yet. I hoped you could help me. Was there any place your brother and Carmen liked to go? Somewhere special?”

“You mean when they…you know?”

“That or just somewhere they liked to have a drink and something to eat. Maybe somewhere they went on a date. Anything you can think of that might give us a place to look.”

She tapped the tip of her nose, her face scrunched up as she thought. “Jonny didn’t talk to me that much about Carmen. It’s like he wanted to keep us separate. There was a bar called the Iron Pig where he went with the other guards sometimes, but I doubt he’d take Carmen there. It wasn’t fancy enough for her.”

“She liked fancy things?”

“Oh, yes. It seemed like every time I saw her she had a new silk scarf, or a new dress. I don’t know how she afforded it. After all she doesn’t make that much more than me and I couldn’t buy a new scarf if I saved for three months. Jonny didn’t buy it for her either. All his money went to keeping a roof over our heads and food in the kitchen. And now the roof is in the kitchen.” She let out a hysterical giggle.

“Do you know any of Carmen’s friends?”

“No. The girls in the linen room don’t like her. They always say she thinks too much of herself. Like she was better than them.” Holly shook her head. “I just don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” He patted Holly’s shoulder. “You’ve been a great help.”

Alden slipped into the kitchen, collected two bacon and egg sandwiches, and headed to the throne room. Imogen stood off to one side, arms crossed, scowling. If she didn’t let up her pretty face would develop some deep wrinkles. He walked over and handed her a sandwich.

“Thanks.” She accepted the food and took a bite.

When they finished eating Alden said, “What did the archmage have to say?”

“Not much beyond keep at it. She sent three of the others to patrol the skies in case the redhead shows up to collect the urn. Damage reports have been coming in pretty steady. Sounds like just about every building in the city took some damage, but deaths have been minimal.”

“Thank heaven for small mercies. Holly didn’t know much else, though it sounds like Carmen wasn’t very popular with her fellow workers. If any of them know anything they’ll probably tell us.”

“Let’s find out.” Imogen led the way over to Dale Allen.

The tired old seneschal was dozing on a bench on the far side of the throne room. If Imogen had any qualms about waking him she gave no sign. She bent over and shook him.

Dale sputtered and sat up. “Yes?”

“Where might we find the ladies that work in the linen room?” she asked.

Dale yawned. “That’s a day job. I suspect you’ll find them at home cleaning up. I can look up their addresses if you like or you can wait a couple hours. They should all be in at dawn.”

“We’ll take the addresses,” Imogen said in a tone that added,
now
.

B
esides Carmen
three women worked in the linen room. They called themselves “the linen ladies” and conveniently for Alden and Imogen they all lived within a block of each other on Steak Street near the slaughterhouses. Their street ran right along the outer wall as the slaughterhouses were built up against it. When Imogen questioned Dale he said each building had a grate that drained into the sewer to allow blood and offal to wash out of the city. He’d hastened to reassure them that the grates were fixed in place and that two more secured the exit from the city. Not to mention the drains were only a foot in diameter. Far too small for a person to slip through. Alden had shared a look with Imogen and thanked Dale before the two of them rushed out into the city yet again.

“What a mess,” Alden said.

He and Imogen floated in the sky above Steak Street surveying the damage. The working class district had suffered the greatest damage they’d seen so far. Whole blocks lay in ruins. Only the slaughterhouses themselves, being built of stone, had escaped the worst of the damage.

“It’ll be a miracle if they’re still alive to be questioned,” Imogen said.

Alden could only agree. In the distance thunder rumbled. All they needed now was a rain storm to add to their misery. They landed, he pulled the scroll out, and consulted the new information Dale had provided. Based on the nearest building numbers they were two blocks south of where they needed to be. Alden hadn’t taken more than a handful of steps when Imogen grabbed his arm.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

Alden concentrated. He sensed a faint flicker of something, but couldn’t tell what. The lowing of cows came from a nearby building.

“It’s coming from there.” Imogen crossed the street and went toward the cows. Alden clenched his jaw and followed.

She hadn’t gotten over halfway across when the moos turned to pained screams. Alden had never heard animals make a noise like that. It reminded him a little of some of the prisoners he’d questioned.

They stopped at the closed door of the slaughterhouse. “I sense corruption.”

Alden felt it as well and if he could sense it the source had to be close. “Not too strong. Certainly not a demon.”

“No, but if not a demon then what?”

That was an excellent question. Unfortunately the only way to answer it was to open the door and take a look. Imogen conjured her golden armor and ax then looked at him. Alden sent power to his shield and nodded.

Imogen pushed the door open and the coppery tang of fresh blood washed over them. Alden sent globes of light into the dark building. Ten stalls covered the back wall. Four of them held dead cows. A small stream of blood ran across the stone floor and down the drain in the center of the building. The grate lay on the floor about three feet away, the edges of the steel seemingly melted.

“So much for the pipes being secure,” Alden said.

A hiss came from one of the stalls along with the sound of tearing meat and smacking lips. Alden gagged, but swallowed his nausea. Imogen gestured and the stall doors swung open. The sounds stopped and three heads popped up from behind one of the carcasses. Burning red eyes bore into the intruding sorcerers.

For a moment Alden thought they were dogs, but the muzzles were too long and narrow. The fur only grew in patches and where the fur ended bone spurs poked through the creatures’ flesh. One of them climbed up on the dead cow. It had a long, ringed tail that ended in a spike dripping greenish fluid. Everywhere the glop hit smoke rose.

“They’re raccoons,” Imogen said, disbelief clear in her voice.

“Maybe they
were
raccoons, but now I’m not so sure.”

The other two climbed up beside the first and all three hissed. Another hiss came from above them. Three more pairs of red eyes stared down at Alden. He sent more lights up into the rafters. A trio of twisted animals leered down at them, their tails dripping acid on the floor.

“You want the three in the rafters or the three by the cow?” Imogen asked.

Alden wanted to go for reinforcements, but that didn’t appear to be an option. Imogen lunged toward the three on the ground, her golden ax flying ahead of her. The freakish raccoons dodged the whirling blade and split up.

A stream of acid spattered against his shield, reminding Alden that he had his own opponents to deal with. He sent a handful of blades streaking into the rafters. One blade sliced a raccoon on the side, but the nimble creatures dodged the rest.

Two of them raced for the open door. Alden concentrated and a golden dome surrounded the building. They couldn’t have demonic raccoons running around the city, the normal ones caused enough trouble.

The two that ran looked back at him and hissed. A shout from behind him indicated Imogen was having problems of her own.

Alden sent more blasts at the raccoon still in the rafters, but it dodged them all. He clenched his jaw. Ranged attacks weren’t going to get the job done. The targets were too small and fast.

He conjured a globe around the raccoon. It lasted an instant before the monster shattered it with its tail. The acid burned through his thin construct like it was nothing.

More acid spattered his shield and he had to reinforce it or get his back melted. His opponents outflanked him in every direction.

Alden surrounded himself with a conjured sphere and put half his remaining power into it. The acid would take a while to burn through that. He spun and found Imogen standing over the corpse of one raccoon while the other two ran around her squirting acid and dodging her ax. Her golden armor looked ragged. She must not have enough power left to repair the acid damage.

He flew down and brought her into his barrier.

“What are you doing?” Imogen glared at him.

“The two of us aren’t enough. I can’t even hit mine, much less kill them. We need help. I can maintain our defenses if you send a message to the archmage.”

Imogen’s face looked like she’d bitten into a lemon. “Very well. I just hope they arrive before either the dome or bubble give out.”