Fate's Edge (35 page)

The woman nodded frantically. Nodding looked odd when performed upside down.

“What I really need to be is her second-in-command. That’s the position I’m trained for, and I’m best at it. Unfortunately, this officer already has a second, and he doesn’t want to step down. Now my new officer gave me this assignment. This is my chance to prove myself. If I do well, my place in the crew will be assured. If I fail, my career is finished. I tell you all of this so you will understand how important it is for me to succeed. Do you understand?”

The woman nodded again.

“Good. Let’s go back to that point I asked you to remember. I don’t care about your life. It has no value to me. I don’t really want to torture you—it’s a bother—but I will. I can cut you, I can burn you, I can pull out your nails, I can slice open your stomach and pour salt on the wound. I can yank out your teeth, I can sodomize you with jagged glass . . .”

The woman began to whimper.

“Shh.” Karmash held up his hand. “Let me finish. My point is, I don’t really feel like doing any of it. If you tell me what I want to know, I’m perfectly fine with letting you go, provided you disappear for a week or two, until my business is concluded. So now we know where we stand. Let’s try this again. Do you work for Magdalene Moonflower?”

“Yes.” The woman said.

“Did a dark-haired man and a red-haired woman come to see her in the last five days?”

“Yes.”

Karmash smiled. He would deliver Kaldar Mar to Helena on a silver platter. It would cement his position and shake Sebastian from his comfortable perch.

“Where are these people now?”

“I don’t know,” the woman said.

Karmash frowned.

The woman’s words came in a rush. “All I know is that Magdalene made some sort of deal with them. Something that has to do with Ed Yonker.”

“Who is this Ed Yonker?”

“He is a preacher.”

“A priest?”

“Yes, like that. He has a place in the Edge, a big wooden church in a camp. That’s where he does his magic. That’s where your man must be. I can show you where it is. It’s not far. It’s north of here.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jennifer.”

“You did very well, Jennifer. I will cut you down now, and you will show us this church.”

“And then I can go?” she asked, her eyes full of tears.

Funny how, in desperate times, people will believe anything. “Yes. And then you can go.”

TWELVE

THE Wooden Cathedral was large and full to the brim. The mass of people should have made Audrey feel safer. The best place for a thief to hide was in a crowd, especially a crowd like this: well dressed, nicely groomed, seemingly law-abiding, and above reproach. Except that the gathering put out a strained, odd vibe. From the moment the Church of the Blessed people had ushered them into the bus, which had taken them to the Edge, the congregation was unsettled. Now, as they took their seats on the uncomfortable benches of the Wooden Cathedral, their agitation had reached the boiling point.

The church had only one center aisle, and Audrey had an aisle seat. People passed her, walking to their own seats, and their anxiety rolled off them like sweat. They spoke to each other, but no lasting conversations sprung up. Their faces were haggard, their eyes haunted. They fidgeted impatiently in their expensive suits and pricey dresses, grasping at their seats, searching with their stares the front of the church, where a lonely pulpit sprouted from a raised stage. Like a crowd of starving beggars who’d heard a rumor that someone was about to give out bread, the congregation waited, gripped by nervous tension.

She glanced at Kaldar, sitting on her left. His face seemed carefree, but his eyes, cold and alert, searched the crowd, evaluating it.

Armed guards waited by the door and near the pulpit. Nobody seemed to pay them any mind, as if being in the presence of men with rifles was the most natural thing in the world. Seth, their handler, explained to them that the guards are there because they had been seeing mountain lions in the area. The explanation seemed half-baked, but the guards made an effort to be cordial. They smiled, opened doors, waved at people. Most of the congregation, probably Yonker’s regulars, didn’t care, and if the few newcomers had any second thoughts, they kept their doubts to themselves.

Hell, if what George’s book said was true, the people probably didn’t see the rifles, as if the guards weren’t even there. According to what they’d read, the gadget was designed by the Cult of Karuman specifically to convince its followers that Karuman’s priests were avatars of their god. Followers of Karuman willingly sacrificed themselves to their deity; sometimes entire families burned themselves alive. The cult was now outlawed. How Ed Yonker had gotten ahold of a hundred-year-old relic was anyone’s guess, but nothing good had come from it.

With each passing minute, the tension in the church grew thicker and thicker, electrified with anticipation and hysteria.

Audrey kept scanning the crowd, looking for the boys. They’d both heard a slight thud when the bus took off—Gaston landing on the roof—so he was here somewhere, but neither George nor Jack were anywhere to be seen.

She glanced back to the stage. Ed had spared no expense. The pulpit was rich mahogany. A heavy purple fabric embroidered with a golden cross draped the edge of the stage. Above it, pictures hung suspended from the ceiling in frames, all showing Yonker with various world leaders. She seriously doubted that there was a single un-Photoshopped image in the bunch.

“Is this your first time?” In the row in front of her, a young girl with bleached blond hair had turned halfway to her.

“Yes, it is!” Audrey tried to sound excited.

“I come here all the time. I’m a Blessed Maiden.”

“What’s that?”

“I help Preacher Ed connect with God.” The girl nodded sagely. “He uses my body as a vessel.”

Oh, Ed, you swine.
“Are there many Blessed Maidens, or are you the only one?”

“There are eight of us.” The girl smiled, her eyes innocent on the young face. “Don’t worry, if Preacher Ed finds you worthy, you may be called to serve, too.”

Yes, I’ll slice his throat first.
“That’s nice.”

The girl turned away. Audrey hugged her shoulders, crushing the fabric of the new yellow suit she’d bought for the occasion. It was just as expensive as the pink one, twice as ridiculous, and it bared so much of her breasts, she could cause a small riot. None of it made her feel better. She had a distinct feeling that their scheme wouldn’t go well.

Her thoughts kept returning to the wyvern and Ling the Merciless and the little cat. Gaston had wanted to cage them, but she told him not to do it. If something happened . . . well, at least Ling wouldn’t starve to death locked in a cage.

Kaldar’s warm arms closed around her. He pulled her closer, leaning toward her ear, and kissed her neck, his lips hot, his touch reassuring. His whisper sounded in her ear, meant for her alone. “I have two magic bombs, and my sword is hidden in my jacket. I can carve my way through all of them. Nobody here will stop us. It will go smooth as silk. I promise.”

Again with swords. “How will your sword stop a bullet?” she whispered.

“I’ll show you. Relax, Audrey. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I want you so badly, I can taste it.”

She pulled back from him and saw his eyes, laughing at her. “In this yellow suit?”

“I love the yellow suit,” he told her. “I love your face, your eyes, your breasts, your ass, I love it all.”

Impossible man.
“We’re about to get killed, and you’re fantasizing about my ass?”

“I can’t help it.”

“You’re insane,” she whispered. Her tension evaporated into the air.

“The boys,” he whispered back.

George and Jack, scrubbed clean and dressed in identical plain white T-shirts and sweatpants, came down the aisle, led by Paul. George looked calm. Jack’s eyes were huge and wild. The crowd’s mood was probably wreaking havoc on his nerves.

“Boys!” Audrey rose and waved.

Paul stared at her cleavage for a long second, then pushed the boys forward.

“There you are.” Audrey made a big show of hugging first George, then Jack, whispering the same thing into their ears, “Get ready to run.”

The kids sat next to Kaldar. Paul turned away.

“Aren’t you staying for the sermon?” Audrey asked.

“No. I have some errands.” Paul headed up the aisle. Other camp staffers were leaving as well. A couple of moments, and the church doors began to close behind them. Audrey watched the light between them shrink with a sinking feeling.

The doors clanged closed. They were locked in.

 

FROM his position at the root of a large pine, Karmash peered at the men with guns shutting the church doors. The camp sat on the side of a hill, and from his vantage point, Karmash had an excellent view of the entire place. He’d observed both Kaldar Mar and the red-haired woman enter the church and had released an enhanced message bird the moment Karmash had seen Kaldar’s face.

The priest had a small but solid compound. Karmash personally counted twelve guards, quite a force. Two went inside the church, two remained by the church doors, and the rest filed into a log house on the far left. None of them would present a problem.

Cotier scuttled down the pine trunk, descending from the branches like a lizard, with his head down. Muscular, quick, the scout was an odd creature even by the Hand’s standards: brown and green pigments swirled within his skin, and as he paused on the trunk, his face mimicked its colors and rough brown pattern. His voice came out as a low, slightly sibilant whisper. “What are they doing?”

“It appears they’re locking them in.”

“That’s not good.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious.” He had no idea what the Edgers were doing, but whatever it was, it required armed guards and barred doors. In Karmash’s experience, that was never a good combination for the party that was being locked in.

“Should we do something?”

Helena was really too permissive with her crew. Agents under his command never questioned his decisions in such a manner. Karmash weighed the choices at hand. The real question was what would piss Helena off more, acting against her orders or losing Kaldar Mar to some Edger insanity.

Nobody bothered to question the winners. If he delivered Kaldar Mar, all would be forgiven. He might even be commended for taking the initiative.

The two guards took position by the doors, brandishing their rifles.

If he screwed this up, there would be no coming back.

Karmash gritted his teeth. He couldn’t take a chance on losing Kaldar. That would be unforgivable, and Helena wasn’t known for her mercy.

He shrugged off his camouflage cloak. Mura stepped out from behind a tree trunk, her orange skin bright against the greenery despite camouflage paint. Karmash nearly winced. True, as a slayer, Mura was never meant to be used in a forest setting, but her skin was almost fluorescent. She would’ve never made the cut in Spider’s crew. Helena’s standards clearly differed.

To the left, Soma emerged from the underbrush and crouched. Thick, monstrous muscle sheathed the hunter’s frame. His hair dripped down his back in long blond rolls, matching the crest of fur running down his spine. The hunter raked the forest floor with his enormous claws. His gaze bored into the two guards below.

“Soma,” Karmash called.

The hunter didn’t answer.

“Soma!”

The man slowly turned his head and peered at Karmash with pale eyes. His face showed no expression; it was like looking at a wolf.

“Do not kill the male. Helena needs him alive. Do you understand me?”

Soma didn’t answer.

“Do you understand?”

Soma glanced at Cotier. The scout gave him an understanding look. Fury boiled inside Karmash.

“Don’t look at him. Answer me!”

“He can’t,” Cotier said. “He gave up his power of speech for the glory of Gaul. He understands.”

Karmash growled under his breath.

“Would you like me to take out the guards?” Cotier asked.

“No.” Karmash started toward the camp.

 

THE choir filed onstage, their faces rapt, lit up with inner joy. Their voices blended into one. “Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah . . .”

The side door opened, and Yonker walked into the aisle. He wore a black business suit. A crimson Superman-like cape perched on his shoulders, held in place by a gold cloak chain. Her gaze fastened on the chain. The Eyes of Karuman. They hadn’t gotten the emitter exactly right, but they were close, very close.

The crowd gasped.

Yonker raised his arms.

Nobody laughed. Nobody called him out or ridiculed his outfit. An older woman in the back row began to weep. The man in front of them rocked back and forth, mumbling, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.”

Dear Lord, what sort of madhouse is this?

Yonker began his procession down the aisle. People reached out, crawling over each other to touch his hands. Fifteen feet.

How exactly would Kaldar pull this off in plain view? She had to shield them from the rest of the audience somehow.

Twelve feet.

Six.

Audrey hopped off her seat, putting an extra bounce into it. Her breasts went up and down in the satin cage of her bra, and Yonker stared down her cleavage. She held out her hands, smiling her big smile, tears glistening in her eyes. Yonker held out his hands, and she hugged him, sliding her hand under his cape to grab his ass. Ed’s eyes widened, and he pulled her closer.

“Excuse me.” Kaldar rose. His arms covered hers and he gently untangled her from Yonker’s chest. “My wife is getting too much into the spirit.”

“That’s fine.” Yonker waved his hand magnanimously and went on to the podium, his chain intact.