Book 2 Chapter 38: I Owed a Debt

Book 2 Chapter 38: I Owed a Debt

Dantes stood in a darkened alley surrounded by filth and broken glass, feeling as much at home there as was possible. He wore his dark green jacket with the hood up, protecting from the light drizzle that fell that day, and had a scarf inside the jacket just below the hood. He flexed the fingers on his new left hand, making them dance a bit as he waited. There was still a bit of a delay in his movements with it, but it was getting smaller and smaller as he practiced. He pulled his stiletto from its sheath and tested the edge on his other hand, drawing just a drop of blood. As he stood there and prepared, Jacopo followed their target, making sure he didn’t deviate too much from his usual route.

Venson Decarte was a man of roughly two hundred and ten years by Dantes’s estimation. He was tall, even for an elf, and lean with blonde hair he wore in a ponytail and soft yellow eyes that almost matched it. He was only a second generation noble, but was on a number of political committees and seemed to have a talent for politics. He was also a man of routine, which Dantes had noticed was common for those of Elven descent. He woke before the sun, had tea and read something for pleasure, usually a mystery book of some kind. Then he had breakfast with his wife. They’d share a kiss, then part, and from then on he was in committee meetings until the late afternoon. After that he’d go to buy a new book, then head home to meet his wife for dinner.

Jacopo watched as Venson left the bookstore with two thick tomes under his arm and began taking his usual shortcut through less populated streets, right next to where Dantes stood with his dagger in his hand.

Dantes watched the street as he pulled the scarf up over his face. The moment Venson passed he stepped out of the alley and grabbed him, spinning him around and shoving him against the wall. While he was disoriented, Dantes threw him into the alley and moved to push him against the wall.

“Gua-!” he started to yell, but Dantes pressed the point of his stiletto against his throat.

“That’s not a good idea,” he said, pressing the point of the knife just enough to produce a single drop of blood.

“Listen, just take my money. I didn’t see your face and won’t go to the guard.”

“You just tried to call for them a moment ago? Seems a little disingenuous.”

Venson said nothing, unsure of how to respond to that.

“Don’t worry, if everything goes as it should, you won’t get hurt.” He pulled the man from the wall, and held on to the back of his coat, pushing him forward. There were no abandoned buildings in Uptown like there were nearly everywhere else, but he’d found a temporarily empty storefront. He made Venson open the back door that he’d already picked open earlier, and pushed him inside. He walked him downstairs to the basement storage, where he had placed a single chair in the middle of the room along with some rope.

“Sit.”

“What’re you going to do to me?” He asked as he sat.

“Ransom you.”

“I am not rich.”

Dantes laughed, and took the coin purse from his waist. He opened it and counted.

“Eleven gold pieces, seven silver, and four copper, just as walking around money. Do you really not consider yourself rich?”

“That’s nothing compared to my colleagues.”

Dantes smiled wide enough that Venson could see the amusement in his eyes. “You are comparing yourself to the wrong people.” He slid the coin purse into his own pocket and moved behind him and began tying his hands and feet to the chair. He was lucky he hadn’t tried to struggle, someone his size could’ve been troublesome to deal with.

Once he was done he inspected the knots and brought the stiletto to his face.

“Wait!” he said, jerking his face away.

Dantes cut a lock of his hair.

Venson opened his eyes slowly and turned back toward him. “Oh, I thought you were going to take my eye.”

Dantes shook his head. “What kind of monster starts with eyes?” he shook his head. “I’d do fingers way before I do eyes. At that point you may as well just kill someone.”

Venson paled a bit.

Dantes took the hair and bound it to a small scroll with a message he’d written earlier that day, then he stepped outside of the room, leaving Jacopo to watch their victim, and tied the message to a different rat that he sent scurrying away toward the home that Venson, and his wife, Magistress Mariska, shared. He stepped back inside and leaned against a wall.

“Here. Please take the gold and release my husband and we’ll leave from here.”

“Throw it,” said Dantes, indicating the ground in front of him with his pistol.

She complied, and had a surprisingly good arm, landing the coins right in front of his feet. Dantes lifted the pouch and listened to the jingling, feeling the weight of it as if he didn’t already know it had exactly what he’d asked for.

He slid the pouch into his jacket and pointed the gun at her again.

“Now. I want you to release a changeling named Syn from whatever bindings you have on her.”

Mariska paled. “What?”

“A changeling named Syn. She needs to be released from the bindings that hold her in the pit and any others attached to it.”

“I can’t do that.”

Dantes tightened the grip he had on Johann, forcing him to let out a grunt of pain.

“If you don’t do it, Johann and your husband will both die tonight.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking. Syn is dangerous, even more than most other changelings.”

“That doesn’t matter. Release her feybind, now.”

She hesitated, looking at Johann.

Dantes kept his grip on him too tight for him to respond. There was a chance he would ask her to do what Dantes was asking to save himself, but he didn’t seem the type. It was much more likely that he’d tell her to uphold her duty.

“O-okay. I, Mariska Decarte, release Syn from her binding.”

Dantes squinted. He wasn’t sure how, but he was certain that she hadn’t actually done anything. Maybe it was something to do with his druidic nature, his exposure to previous feybinding, his promise to Syn, or even something to do with him being a two-name no-name. He just knew.

He pointed the pistol at Johann’s leg and fired, tearing a chunk from it in a flash of viscera.

Johann wailed with what little breath he had left and Mariska jumped.

“Try. Again.”

She gritted her teeth, and looked at Dantes with pure hatred. “I, Mariska Decarte, Magister of Rendhold, Binder of Changeling Fate, do release the changeling Syn, from her bindings.” This time as she spoke there was a stir in the air that blew wind throughout the alley, and her words seemed to vibrate with power. When she finished speaking, Dantes could swear he heard the sound of a lock clicking open.

He holstered his still smoking pistol.

“You’ll find your husband in the empty storefront four blocks south and ten blocks East. He’s locked in the basement, but unharmed aside from a bad haircut.”

“You’re a fool. You don’t know what you’ve done.”

“I believe that, but I owed a debt.” He released his hold on Johann, and summoned a swarm of bats to fill the alley to cover his escape while he calmly walked out of it, making his way out of uptown and heading back toward his garden.