2.19 In Which the Dark Lord Spreads it Around

2.19 In Which the Dark Lord Spreads it Around

Jassner, I said aloud into the echoing, expectant silence, wanted to be a messenger and travel to different cities. He would hang around the trade roads, watching the couriers pass by and asking any whod talk with a Gutter Rat about their travels. I wonder, Uncle Gentlydid you pick him as a sacrifice because he was more likely than most to escape your control?

To his credit, Gentle drew in a breath, straightening his shoulders and hardening his expression to answer me.

I

It was a rhetorical question.

Immolate.

Shell-shocked the Gutter Rats might generally be by the reality of their lives in the Gutters, but nobody can watch that unprepared and not react. It had taken me a depressingly high number of repetitions of that spell to stand there in cold silence while it ran its course, feeling nothing.

Many yelled, a few fled the room; several started crying. But in a sight that made me suddenly, crushingly depressed despite how neatly it played into my own agenda, quite a few of the children watched the only caregiver theyd ever known screaming while he burned alive with expressions that were as cold as mine, or even overtly satisfied.

My god. Kids will bond with anyone who looks after them; many people will rally to the defense of even the most openly abusive parents. What had he been doing to these poor children, to create such a cavernous vacuum of loyalty? If it wasnt playing out right in front of my eyes, I wouldnt have believed it.

I guess teaching your children to be hard-hearted and rely on no one can backfire pretty badly, when its your turn to need someone to care about you.

As usual, it took around a minute for the effects to face. Uncle Gently was left quivering on the floor, his mismatched and bedraggled finery singed and smoking in a few places.

Ladhnet, I said loudly.

No, he croaked. No more

Ladhnet was a fan of mine. She was getting closer to the age when you turn Rats out of the Nest, and did not want to become an Alley Catwhich you were trying to pressure her into, because you got a kickback from one of the madams. She laughed and cheered when the whores beat the shit out of the gangs. Im seeing a pattern in the kids you decided to get rid of.

No more!

Immolate.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Lamms jaw working soundlessly as he watched this, the flames of ultimate torture making a bright reflection in his eyes. A few of the ladies had averted their cowled faces from the spectacle of Uncle Gentlys suffering, but just as many were staring down at him in ruthless satisfaction. They hadnt had it as rough as the Gutter Rats, but all of them were harder than the spoiled highborn ladies theyd once been.

There was just something about seeing the obviously guilty punished that helped cleanse a soul stained by the suffering those guilty had caused. Even if it wasnt the same man whod harmed them, there was catharsis in the symbol alone. In the revelation that the mighty burned and bled just the same as the weak they victimized.

You always thought Tonnon was a waste of space, I said inexorably when the flames subsided again. He didnt talk, didnt acknowledge most people. You only kept him around because he was a genius at catching crawns. He loved crawns, knew all the different varieties, where and how they lived, how to catch each kind at any given time of year. When he cried because he couldnt handle the noise or the crowd, youd have the bigger boys douse him in canal water and lock him in a closet. Where Im from, we know what the autism spectrum is; a boy like that could have been cared for by people who knew how to care for him. I was usually so good at staying in control when I was in performance mode, but the white-hot beast inside me was snarling, clawing its way up; I was struggling to keep it under a semblance of control. It broke through in the roughening of my voice, the way I had to clench my hands into fists, gouging my palms with my own nails for focus. And there is a deep, dark crevice in hell for monsters who abuse those children. Let me give you a taste.

Immolate!

He screamed less this time. I knew the healing effect of Immolate would remedy even the damage done to the throat from overwork, but I also knew my healing powers were ineffective on mental trauma. I guess everybody reaches a point where they cant scream anymore.

Some of the Rats were refusing to watch now, but only some.

Sildnit wanted to be an adventurer, I said, raising my voice above the noise of Uncle Gentlys quiet weeping after the third round of fire receded. Just like so many children. You never got on her case about that, because you considered it a hopeless dream for any of your Ratsbecause you dont actually think they have any value or potential. No, you only punished her during the spring and summer, because she kept leaving the city to pick flowers instead of begging or stealing the way you told her. Sildnit really loved flowers. She said they reminded her there was more to life than the Gutters. Cant have that, now can we, Uncle Gently?

P-please

Save your begging for Virya, she had more of a sense of humor than I do. Immolate!

Even the most horrific of things can become routine amazingly fast. I was starting to feel that much of the terror had been leeched from the room through sheer repetition and overexposure. Faces were growing dour and tired, bodies less stiff and tense. Even Gently made less and less noise with each Immolation.

The blinding rage hadnot settled, but calmed. It was not going anywhere; it was willing to wait. The moment was coming.

Nadro was a real smooth-talker, I said once there was quiet enough to speak again. Very good at wheedling coins out of people. Seems like itd be a valuable skill to you, Gently. He was also really good at talking his way out of punishment when you were annoyedeven better at getting the bigger kids you liked to have bully the others to back down. Maybe that was why you decided you could do without him, yeah? Because in the end, none of them matter all that much to you. All that ever mattered was your control.

I fell silent. This time, he didnt beg, just hunching his shoulders and waiting for it.

I waited, too. The seconds ticked on, the anticipation built. Until finally, Gently dared to peek up at me, his face twisted with the uncertainty that was the closest thing he had left to hope.

Then I cast Immolate.

It started slowly, but picked up as the children were satisfied that I was seriously going to let them walk out unharmed with whatever they could carry. After the first made it out with a pocketful of coins, an armful of wyddh, and a silk bedsheet draped around his shoulders like a cloak, the rest grew much more confident.

Most of them went back into the Nest for a moment; I knew they didnt own much, but it stood to reason a lot of the kids would have their own little treasures that held sentimental value to them, if nothing else. Probably encouraged to comply by my displays of terrible power and looming black-cloaked followers, none of them gave us any trouble with the single-file system, and only a few gentle verbal corrections were necessary to prevent any from trying to grab all of the money or a whole jar of candied nuts the size of their own torso. Or in one case, a bottle of wine. Many selected carefully from the pile while watching me and Nazralind (who had taken over a guiding role in the distribution) for approval of their selections. We left them alone to do as they pleased unless they seemed about to try to make off with the entire supply of something.

In the end, about two thirds of them decided they agreed with my own assessment that I was bad news. I didnt see where they went once they were out of the Nest; I really hoped they continued following my advice, stayed together, and made for the south gate. Ultimately, though, I felt Id done more than enough to them by sliming them into their orphanage and then torturing their caregiver right in front of them. If they didnt want my protection after that, well, that just seemed like good sense. I had no more right to impose on them.

We were left with twelve Gutter Rats, including Aenit. They seemed to be in the middle of the age range, between about seven and eleven, and to the last shared Aenits (and Benit and Radons, for that matter) intense stare and quiet demeanor.

Man, I really hoped I could do more for them than offer a warm place to sleep and the Dark Lords protection. Surely some of the huge number of women Id gathered at North Watch must be good with kids, right? A few were actually mothers themselves. I would only be able to consider this venture a success if, eventually, these children stopped staring at me like combat veterans.

Kids should laugh, and cause trouble, and get underfoot like Gilder and the others. If there was any mercy in this rotten world at all, theyd remember how.

Once those who chose to leave had left, I had the rest of the children and noblewomen gather up the rest of Uncle Gentlys hoard and retreat to the house wed boarded up, to wait for me to finish the next part. This time, at last, Aster was convinced to accompany them. She wasnt happy about leaving my side so soon after her angry declaration that she wouldnt again, but matters become different once there were children to protect. They needed her holding that door in case Lady Gray decided to make her presence known.

And I wanted them in that house and not this one. Close enough for the screaming to be audible, which was the one glaring flaw in my plan. Id have much preferred they not be able to hear the screaming I was about to cause. But Gray was still out there, and Id left the ladies with orders to howl like banshees if she turned up; at the first sound, I would drop what I was doing here and run to their aid.

Once they were gone, it was finally time to use the hammer and spikes.

Goose and Lamm stayed behind with me, which was necessary as I needed their assistance. Uncle Gently wasnt so broken that he didnt struggle once he realized what I intended; anyone would have. But he was one out-of-shape middle-aged con man, and we were two thugs and a sorcerer. In the end, the only real difficulty he gave us was by being heavy.

Goose held him up against the exterior of the Nest by a grip on his neck, next to its front door, stoically ignoring his attempts to kick her. Lamm grabbed and wrestled his arms into place, one at a time as I worked, the gangster easily more than a match for Gentlys attempts to pull away. Both my accomplices executed their role in this new war crime with the icy expressions of people embracing a justifiable evil.

And I used the tools.

I let the rage take me over, finally. Unleashed the beast and let its seething fury pound through my veins as I pounded in the spikes. Letting go of performance mode, letting my face twist into an animal snarl of hatred even as it was splattered with blood. I needed that rage, needed it to course through me, because a mentally normal person in a normal state of mind is not capable of hammering spikes into screaming, struggling human flesh.

Lost in a fugue of righteous hatred, I suspect I could have done a lot worse, but I was just here to perform this last task and leave. We had no time to get creative with this monsters execution, and I had not the inclination.

The human forearm very conveniently contains two bones which you can hammer a large nail right between to affix it in place. I used two spikes for each. Historically, I believe one per arm was the norm, but he was heavy and I wanted to be thorough.

You have no idea what youve done, Gently rasped at me as Goose and Lamm finally released him to hang from the front of his house by his own nailed arms. He found the strength to lift his head and glare at me with an insane hatred that mirrored my own, his legs pressing desperately against the wall behind him to lift his body up so he could breathe enough to talk. No clue what youve unleashed, Dark Lord. She was always so controlled. Always a plan, every action had a purpose. She has never been like this, killing my Rats just to make a point. But you broke her. Do you even know what the Dark Crusade is? It is the end of EVERYTHING. Nations will burn, landbridges will fall, islands will be scoured clean of life, cities will be inhabited by only the dead. You think youre going to save these people? Pfaah!

He spat blood at me. I was honestly impressed he could still make a speech in his condition.

You dont save shit, Seiji. Youre nothing but destruction. Theres no future for anyone on Ephemera as long as youre alive. Lady Gray looked into the void you represent, and this is what you turned her into. This was one gangster in one small town. You think this was bad? He grinned maniacally, his teeth running red with blood. Wait till you see what a Highlord does when he looks into the same void and breaks like she did. Or a King. Or an Emperor. Itll all burn. Starting with everyone youve tried to help. Remember that as you watch them dieyour whores, my children, everyone. This. Is. Your. Fault.

You dont have to listen to this horseshit, Lord Seiji, Lamm stated. Lemme break his windpipe.

He can talk, I said quietly. Thats all he has left. And I want to send him to hell with the knowledge that his last act of defiance was a useless waste of breath that he only got to indulge in because I allowed it.

I could have silenced him, of course, but I was arrested by what he said. Unable to tear my attention away from the prospect he foretold Terribly afraid that he was right. But Id have nailed myself to the wall before letting him know that.

The beast reared up and roared, and I willingly embraced the searing rage that blotted out everything but the act of violence right in front of me as I drew back the hammer and, with two methodical strokes, smashed his kneecaps.

Uncle Gentlys scream was cut off as he slumped down the wall, unable to support himself any longer. The position was cutting off his air. That was how victims of crucifixion died: suffocation. The Romans would only break the victims legs as a last cold mercy, so they went in minutes instead of the days it took them to lose the ability to push themselves up and keep breathing. This man didnt deserve even that paltry mercy, but I had gorged my fill of barbaric cruelty and had no more appetite for it. Already I was growing sick with what Id just done.

It was such a strange feeling, to hate it so much, and yet not regret it.

The last tool was the paintbrush. Uncle Gently was providing plenty of crimson material with which to work. I dipped the brush in the blood pooling beneath him, and carefully scrawled my last warning in Fflyr letters across the front of the building alongside him.

CHILDKILLER

And thatwas enough. I threw the brush down next to the discarded hammer and remaining nails, already in a puddle of the pouring blood.

Somebody could still get him down from there, Goose pointed out as I turned to go.

After that? Without the kind of healing only I could provide, hed never again use his hands, or walk.

Then he can be their problem, I said. Come on. Lets pick up the kids and go home.

I left behind a single, summoned slime below the dying orphan master, slowly turning crimson as it feasted on blood.