Lethal Cargo

(The following is an excerpt from my manuscript-in-progress for A Thread of Waking Light, a fantasy novel, the first book of Volume I: Omens of Dream and Shadow, in my planned triple-trilogy series, The Bonds of Faith and Blood.)

Rill crouched on the balls of his feet in an alleyway at the docks. A few others of his street gang also crouched behind him, hidden out of sight from the moonlit concourse to the slips by lurking between two warehouse walls. A couple of his boys were already ahead of them, setting up for the arrival of the rest.

His contact had informed him of a tantalizing shipment leaving in the morning. One of the ship owner’s foremen was a smuggler of liquid blue. While the drug remained legal in Resamir, it had been recently outlawed in Parithan, the country of the ship’s owner and its next destination. Worth its weight in gold suns, the concentrated syrup could be dissolved to make hundreds of doses.

The tipster hinted that more than one vial of the syrup had been stashed among the shipping crates, secreted within the stuffing surrounding the fine linens inside them. Those vials made the perfect target because the foreman wouldn’t be able to ask for an official investigation about the loss of something that wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. They would both make a fortune and get away with it.

Rill finally heard the faint whistle signal from Delmer. That meant the advance party was done anchoring and letting the rope ladder down the side of the boat. Rill and his gang slipped into the cold water without noise and began swimming to the merchant vessel. They reached the boat and scaled up the far end side of it via the ladder. Upon cresting the side to the top, they stole across cautiously and approached the main hatch to the cargo holds.

One of the gang paused and held out a small, shiny orb, approximately half the size of a fist, which caught Rill’s eye with a minute glint of moonlight. In another moment, it was replaced into a small bag and exchanged for lockpicking tools in the man’s hands. The man deftly picked the lock on the chain that threaded through the metal loop through the hatch door. Slowly and extremely carefully to avoid any loud clanking, the men methodically worked the chain with practiced rhythm through the loop until it was clear and then set the chain down on the deck.

They opened the hatch, descended the ladder, and pulled the hatch cover down over them. They briskly walked across a narrow walkway to another hatch, passing aisles and aisles of crates. Rill knew the common, cheaper goods were in the top hold, and the more important and expensive ones lay below. The man with the picks once again retrieved the sphere from his bag, and held it against the lock, then restored it to his bag before spending a few moments to bypass the lock on this hatch as well. They descended once more. The crate of fine linens they needed would be down there.

They entered the second cargo hold, and several metal lanterns swinging from the center of the ceiling over the center aisle at each aisle intersection shone mere pinpricks of light into near blackness. One of his men walked down the length of the aisle, turning a knob at the base of each lantern, and the lantern flames swelled to a barely useful dimness. They looked around. This time, there were caged sections of crates, separated by and contained within metal grillwork from floor to ceiling, and each grill cage included a hinged door with an individual lock.

In a heightened whisper, Rill spoke, “The merchant from Port Faeldan that we’re after uses the mark of a crimson and gold checks pattern, in a square, four checks to a side. Look for this first before we waste time opening things that don’t matter. He may have sold carriage of goods to other merchants.” The men spread out, peering between grills to locate the mark on each of the crates. Each grill cage held a dozen crates; two crates high and wide, and three deep to the side wall of the ship. A few moments later, one of the men whistled a common thieves’ signal of beckoning. Everyone gathered there. Rill verified the mark at which the man gestured.

With a nod from Rill, the man with the lock picks once again retrieved the orb from the bag, and as the orb neared the lock, it began to radiate red light. Though well-trained enough not to make sudden verbal noise, a few men inhaled loudly in surprise. With that, the man then brought out a slim, short rod, also appearing to be made of a crystal-like material. He touched it to the lock, and a small, dazzling flare of pale yellow light shot out in all directions. A tiny shock wave flung back his hand that held the rod and rattled the grill cage. After everyone blinked the sudden dazzle from their eyes, the man held the orb back to the lock, and there was no longer any glow from it, red or otherwise.

Rill asked, “What are those, Jeffram?”

Jeffram glanced at him dubiously, as if weighing the need to answer, but grudgingly replied, “They were payment from a shopkeeper with nothing else to pay protection with. He claimed one found magical traps and the other canceled them. Looks like he was telling the truth.”

“Can I see them?” Rill asked. At the sudden look of protestation instantly forming on Jeffram’s face, his mouth opening to speak, Rill continued, “Everyone here knows they’re yours; I can’t cheat you without you calling the Witness Challenge.”

With the mention of the traditional method of Thieves’ Justice, Jeffram reluctantly nodded his assent, and he handed the crystals to Rill. He bent back down with lock picks in hand to deal with the mechanical aspect of the lock now that the magical part had been disabled, and Rill reviewed the objects more closely. Almost indiscernible in the faint lantern light, the orb actually had a pale, frosty sheen, instead of being truly clear. The rod was clear, but it felt slippery, as if he could drop it any second if he didn’t pay attention.

Moments later, the lock clicked, and the grill cage door swung slightly ajar. The men backed up a little so the door would open fully. Once the way was clear, the one of the gang produced a pry bar and hacked at the corner of a crate until the wood splintered sufficiently to insert the bar for leverage. They twisted the bar until enough nails were loosened to release the facing board of wood. The men pulled it off to find…

Nothing of interest. The entire crate contents were nothing but stuffing and linens. Cloth bolts and wood shaving filler spilled all over their feet. Perplexed, Rill directed them at the next crate, which produced the same result. In fact, all four of the first front crates were this way. The gang of men began to work a little more energetically, starting to feel the sting of a goose chase. Either Rill had gotten a lie of a tip, or the foreman had learned of the breach in his security and changed things. Rill even put the small rod in his belt pouch temporarily so he could help wrench the next crate open with a free hand. As Rill touched one of the middle row of crates, the orb in his other hand glowed red again, only this time it was tinged with a nebulous, black center. A jolt of angry, electric energy crackled from the crate through his hand, stinging it, and the shock sent Rill stumbling backward toward the ladder to the hatch for the deck above.

As Rill stood up and reached for the yellow trap-canceling rod from his pouch, a man materialized at the far end of the central aisle of the hold. He was a small, scraggly-looking fellow, with a shiny, ornamented robe of champagne satin and a plumed brown hat. He seemed to radiate his own light because he could be clearly seen despite the faint light of the dim lanterns above.

In front of the arrival, but taking longer to complete the process, a swirl of red and black smoke coalesced into a vicious-looking, man-sized, dog-like creature with a shiny, black skin. An orange-red glow emanated from its eyes. Half the men began clambering back to Rill, the other half drew their weapons – daggers, throwing stars, and shortswords. Normally agile and reactive, Rill froze for the first time in his life, unable to tear his gaze away from the bloody carnage that unfolded during the eternity of the next dozen or so seconds.

The apparent wizard grinned wickedly and uttered a shrill welcome, “The Mistress sends her greetings to House Jandithar.” He then shouted, grandiosely throwing both arms in the air, “Kill them all!”

The dog launched itself upon the closest man, Delmer, who was reaching out with a dagger strike already. The metal glanced off the smooth, black skin, chipping off and melting the point, and Delmer’s eyes widened in surprise, turning into terror once the result processed in his mind. The dog opened its jaws, and a powerful snap of teeth ripped the man’s throat completely off. Delmer’s head ricocheted off the nearby grillwork panel in a violent spray of blood that coated two nearby gang members. His body slumped forward onto the floor, with not even a gurgle as more blood pumped to the floor from the neck stump atop his torso.

The dog was viciously fast. No sooner had those jaws clamped shut and then spit out the neck than it had pounced on the next two men scrambling to get away down the aisle. The dog’s forepaws brandished honed razors as claws in quadruplicate. They sliced through both men lengthwise. Their gut-wrenching screams lasted for a long moment before giving out, setting the chill overtone to the inhuman brutality with which the creature continued its horrific slaughter. The shrill man at the far end danced and cackled gleefully with each killing.

The man with the lock picks, Jeffram, had been closest to Rill. He lost no time fleeing up the hatch during the first three killings, completely forgetting — or not caring — that Rill still had his crystals. Two of the other men had poison-laced throwing stars, and they hurled them at the abomination from cover of the crate cages in front of Rill. The stars landed on its skin, but they abruptly melted in whatever acid that coated the creature instead of piercing it. This added acrid fumes atop the already bile-summoning, sticky stench of blood.

Varakis, the man now standing furthest from Rill, remained frozen in place with fear, unable to do anything but whimper. The two who had thrown the poisoned stars turned toward Rill and began running the length of the aisle, planning to escape up the hatch. The dog bounded forward, looking past Varakis, but just when the thief thought he was being spared a gruesome fate, the back legs of the demonic canine struck out to spear him through. The dog used Varakis’s body as springboard and traction to hurl itself down the length of the aisle, tackling down the two thieves running at Rill and impaling them to the floorboards with its claws. With quick, precise actions, the creature bit through the heads of both the unfortunate men. Blood splattered and sprayed the area between the dog and Rill, reflecting a multitude of points of shiny, black slickness that glinted in the faint cast of lantern light.

The next moment, their gazes met, and Rill saw the indelible image of crimson orbs burning in the skull of the demonic creature where eye pupils should have been. The dog ripped his claws out of the latest bodies and the underlying floor and leapt forward, intending Rill as its next victim with a rake of its claws to his face, and Rill instinctively raised both arms to block, inadvertently brushing the demon with the small, amber rod he still absently held as its paw struck out. A brilliant flash of yellow light and a large wave of force immediately burst outward from the contact. It sent the demon dog and Rill each flying backward against opposite grills from each other. Rill suffered only a small scratch on the side of his face where the claw had started to make contact before the rod’s nullifying blast interceded.

The dog staggered a second, shook its head, regarded Rill carefully with confusion a moment, and then turned to walk down to the other end of the central aisle of the hold where the tacky messenger stood. A gravelly, bass voice, like two rough rocks grinding against each other, issued forth. “I am Thax’Vinat, soldier of the mighty Scourge Varthik, the Dark Warlord, and I am free once again! For the mortal who freed me, you keep your life. For the one who subjugated me far too long, I have a score to settle.” The scrawny messenger’s dance paused mid-jig, his eyes wide in surprised horror, as the demon padded closer. Its claws scraped against the blood-slick wood of the floor when it wasn’t treading over body parts.

The short man’s voice somehow managed to become even shriller than before as it ascended pitch to a scream in panicked protest. “What do you mean freed you? Nobody can undo my Mistress’s bindings! She’s omnipotent!” The messenger began attempting to cast a spell, but the demon launched itself onto the man. It only spent an actual whole second chomping the man in half.

The gravelly voice issued forth once again, in a calmly matter-of-fact manner, “Omnipotent she may be, but alas, you were not.”

The dog turned to regard Rill with those crimson flame eyes, and for an instant, they seemed to engulf him. Its voice spoke a last time. “Remember what it means to play with demons, mortal. Silmarrah’s Law protects your body for now. We are even; there is no debt. You remain the only mortal I’ve met whom I have not had the pleasure of sending to his afterlife. I shall not spare you a second time should we meet again. Pray to your impotent god we never do.” A swirling portal of red-tinged black energy opened underneath the demon dog, and the beast slowly drifted downward through it. A deep orange blotch of light volleyed out of the creature at Rill, which unerringly landed on him despite his instinctive duck. The next instant, the demon and its netherworld portal were both gone.

The reality of what just transpired slammed Rill with a sudden, mental force. A driving madness compelled him to run to the safety of the tavern he called home, an effort to try to escape the horrible images in his mind with drink and companionship. He didn’t bother putting the crystals into his belt pouch; he held them simultaneously with the ladder rungs, and he left hatches open behind him. He scrambled out of the ship holds and across the plank to the docks. Once on land, he began running full speed out of the docks area toward his perceived haven. No matter how many structures imposed themselves between him and his goal, he wove and navigated his way through them until the unfortunate incident with the horse, and all went blissfully black.