Curselock

Chapter 26: Call for Help

A glint pulled Leland’s eyes to his slung hand. The crow tattoo craned its neck, staring back at him with its rounded emerald eyes. It opened and closed its mouth like a repeating silent alarm.

Nearby, Shoutwell’s city guardsman sputtered in confusion and nonwords. “N-no that c-can’t- I-I don’t… T-that makes s-so much s-ense…”

“It's okay,” Leland said, burying his hand deeper into his sling. “Just contact the Inquisitors. They’ve dismantled the Cult before, they’ll do it again.”

That stopped the guard’s trembling enough to allow the others entry into the city.

Leland then watched him run off, likely towards a guard station or barracks. He turned to the others, “Let’s sell Alkin’s mount and get to his family home, quickly.”

“Wait what?” Alkin asked. “You three aren’t staying?”

“Not with the Sightless Cult here. I’d suggest you get your family out of town as well.”

The city’s noble flicked his nose into the air. “And leave my civilians to die? How do you even know it’s the Sightless Cult or whatever you called it? You only heard a description of a few murders from a random guard.”

Glenny took the liberty of answering. “I guess there is the possibility it's just a serial killer with an affliction for eyes. But the Sightless have a long and horrid history of encroaching into port towns.”

“Smuggling,” Jude said, his eyes locked firmly on the damp muddy ground. “They smuggle parts of their ‘Lord’ and try to reconstruct it. If they succeed, all of Shoutwell will be in the ocean.”

Alkin only stared back.

Leland picked up the slack. “Our parents have fought them before. They don’t often talk about the horrific aspects of their work, but the Sightless was one they did. You and your family do not want to be here, even if it’s only a possibility.”

Alkin pulled the rein’s on his mount and headed into the city, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut.

They traveled through the streets, finding them empty and eerie. Shadows moved beyond windows and curtains, the partial appearances of people spied beyond corners or alleys, and there was not an ounce of sound. As they moved, Alkin became restless. He shifted his weight from one stirrup to the other and back, a similar motion finding his neck and eyes.

“Six bodies and this is the city’s reaction?” he muttered. “Total fear?”

Leland held his tongue. It’s not that simple, he thought.

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They encroached on a rushed elderly man and his adult daughter packing a wagon. As they neared, the pair became increasingly worried, speeding their escape despite their trembling hands. The family even left a few of their belongings.

Leland frowned at the situation but as they passed by the abandoned home he gasped. There, painted on the door in fly-encrusted red, was a crudely drawn closed eye.

“Don’t look at it!” Leland shouted, snapping his eyes closed and turning away.

The others did the same, even the hesitant Alkin. “W-what is it?”

“A sigil – or a mark, depending on what Legacy you ask.”

“What does it mark?”

“In this case? Death,” Leland said through gritted teeth. “’Here waits those nearest the truth.’ The mark of a vile Lord, the Sightless King.”

“Think of them as the Cult’s Legacy tattoos,” supplied Glenny. “Artificial, just like the ‘Lord’ they follow.”

Jude chewed his lip. “We need to report it. The guard will need confirmation that the Sightless are here. This is it.”

They all agreed to the detour and got to walking. As they got further from the sigil, the city became more lively. A cold forbiddance still hung in the air, but people were out and about. It was mainly the capable, however. An obvious lack of elderly and children was apparent, something that was keenly noted at the guard station.

A line stretching from the double door entry point nearly reached the next building over. Alkin froze at the sight.

“What are they here for?” Glenny asked.

The young Master didn’t respond, instead slipping off his mount and powering through the crowd into the building. He got many protesters as he went, men and women annoyed by the sudden line cutting. Glenny sighed, following along.

A few minutes later the crowd abruptly dispersed following a Guard Captain’s orders. Glenny peeked his head out of the building, motioning for Leland and Jude to follow. After tying up all four mounts, they did so.

As they entered, Leland was instantly bombarded by questions from the Captain, all of which pertained to the Sightless and the sigil left on a home only a few streets over. With the Captain getting his fill of answers, he began to bark out orders to the eavesdropping guard. A few minutes later, the report had been completed and Leland and the others were free to leave.

“Oh, and don’t leave the city,” the Captain said as parting words.

Yeah right, all three boys thought independently of each other.

“Alkin, we need to speak with your family—” Leland stopped. “Annnd our mounts were stolen. Great.”

Jude looked over to where he and Leland had tied the horses. “At least we travel light.”

Glenny rolled his eyes and patted the pack with the dungeon items in it. “Glad none of us use saddle pockets.”

Then Jude’s eyes went wide and he subtly patted himself down for his magical harmonica. Last place he saw it was… when he put it in his saddle pocket. He groaned internally, trying to hide his furious face. It didn’t work.

“You okay there, Jude?” Leland asked. “This is no reason to go berserk. We are only out a few gold.”

Jude’s lip twitched but he forced down the anger. At least he still had his mundane harmon- Nope, that was also in the saddle. He took a long breath and tried to look internally. Forcing down anger wasn’t the way to go, he knew. But it was by far the easiest. So, he went a different route. He counted to ten.

…nine…ten.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he said.

Glenny patted him on the back. “Come on, it's going to get dark soon. Let's get to Alkin’s house.”

The dark was the least of their worries. News about the sigil had spread further than the street where it sat. People were out in droves, boarding their windows or buying any and all food they could. The fog wasn’t helping either.

It came in like a slow tide, forming from the sewer grates before reaching ankle height. It ebbed and flowed, moving down the street before doubling back on itself. By the time the group reached Alkin’s mansion, the fog had grown to tower over the smaller buildings.

As they pushed through the gated fence, a silver shimmer forced Jude to shove Leland out of the way. Metal clashed against metal and a stark wave of air mellowed out the dense fog.

The attacking man pivoted on his heel before stepping before Alkin. “Stay behind me, young Master.”

“Boor!” Alkin yelled. “These are my friends, stop your attack at once!”

It was then Leland fully examined Boor. The man was quite well dressed, full tailored butler suit and the accompanying strict posture. He carried a silver rapier with a marble white hilt, a color that matched his elderly hair.

“Ah, my apologies. The fog got the better of me. Can’t be too careful now-a-days, young Master,” Boor said, slipping his weapon back into his tattoo – a silver stick figure man mid thrust with a similar style sword.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Jude!”

Boor looked his employer in the eyes, a faint squint as he did so. “Well alright then.” He turned to Jude. “I apologize for my sudden attack, I hope I did not injure you.”

The Legacy of Berserker’s eyes were closed. Ten seconds later, he opened them and spoke, “I understand and I am fine.”

Leland and Glenny both stared at him.

“Is mother home?” Alkin asked.

“In the study. Shall I take your guests to a sitting room?” Boor asked.

“No, we all need to have a conversation. Including you.”

“I see, I will start the kettle then. Cookies or muffins?”

“Muffins,” Jude answered instantly.

“Of course. Right this way please.”

The group followed Boor to the study. After ushering them in, the butler then disappeared into one of the mansion’s many hallways.

“Leals, can I borrow your ring of regeneration?” Jude whispered. “He broke my hand.”

Frowning, Leland subtly shifted the ring over to his friend just before his mouth suddenly dropped open at the sight of the study. He was sure it was bigger than his home town’s library, at the very least it definitely had more books. Shelves from wall to wall and in neatly spaced aisles were stacked from floor to ceiling with books. All sizes and colors made up the spines, some even housing obvious magical properties.

“Mother,” Alkin said, causing a dainty head to swivel.

“Ah! My little munchkin!”

The others froze at the nickname.

“We’ve been over this, please do not call me that. We have guests.”

“See, my little Alkin, that is precisely why I called you that. Humiliation builds character.”

Alkin coughed. “No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does,” Lady Onryo argued. “In fact, I can already see it working. You’ve already made powerful connections.”

Alkin frowned at that, mirroring the look on the boy’s faces. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Word travels fast when you have a network such as I.” She then turned to the others. “You three were the ones to take out the homicidal Icewillow. Some people in high places are quite impressed.”

Leland’s frown deepened. “Have you been spying on us?”

Lady Onryo gave a predatory smile. “Do you think I’d send my little munchkin out without supervision?”

“Yes,” Glenny challenged. “If you sent supervision, why didn’t they save Alkin before he was taken into the dungeon?”

Her smile twitched. “Forget that. We have larger problems to deal with. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we have a small cult problem.”