At the bottom of a dried-out well, a girl screamed. No one could hear her, except for the man looming over her. He grinned at her screams, laughing as they echoed off the walls. The girl’s screams slowly diminished in volumes, ending with her sobbing, her body moving with each sob, almost convulsing in her desperation. The man just grinned, then slapped her, sending her head banging into the wall.

He lifted the dazed girl in by her wrists, both fitting easily into one of his meaty hands. She cried out in pain as he yanked her upwards, her shoulders blossoming with pain as her body weight pulled against her direction of movement. The cry was ignored, as had been her screams before. Oblivious to the sobbing and whimpering that came from her, the man kicked at a stone in the wall, seemingly no different to any other stone, yet something clicked, and a hidden door swung open.

The girl still dangling from his clenched hand, the man entered the room, swatting the door shut with his free hand. He threw the girl down onto the floor, loosening a scream from her as she hit the ground with her feet, but at an awkward angle, wrenching an ankle and causing her to fall awkwardly, scraping her side as she could not bring sore arms into place quickly enough to break her fall. She looked at the man in fear, still sobbing. “Why, what did I do?”

The man gave her a crooked, evil smile. “Nothing. That is why you are here. Because you did nothing, mean nothing, and no one will care that you are gone. No one will come looking for a gutter rat gone missing.” He kicked out, a swift movement she could not avoid, and she felt pain in her side as she heard a cracking. Gasping with pain, trying to clutch her ribs where the pain emanated from, she was unprepared for another kick in the same place, driving broken ribs into her lungs. He leaned down, throwing the girl into the middle of an arcane circle that had been engraved in the centre of the room.

“You are in pain, but not enough. I need more for what I want to come, and you are the bait!” She screamed, both from pain and fear, as the man methodically broke each of her limbs, and arranged her in the centre of the circle, limbs bent at unnatural angles. Her screams as he roughly handled her, shifting broken limbs at will, not worrying about the damage he was causing, seemed to have no effect other than to spur him on, his smile seeming more genuine the more she screamed. He nodded, satisfied with her pain and the arrangement of her body, happy with the fact that none of her injuries would kill her too fast.

He looked down at her, his cold smile meaningless to the girl. “Rejoice! Your pain and death will bring greatness into the world! You should be happy that you can achieve so much with such a worthless life!”

The girl’s eyes were clouded with pain, not hearing what he said, oblivious to anything but the agony she felt. All she could do was mindlessly repeat one word, “Why”, between the whimpers that came unceasingly from her mouth. The screams were gone, she no longer had the strength for that.

***

IN the brothel Martin tried to concentrate on his target, all while trying to avoid being distracted by naked legs and an all too enticing form. Somehow, he found himself buying Delilah a drink, one of the most expensive in the house. She seemed to only be sipping at it, rather than drinking it, all while trying to ply him to drink more, buy more. As she turned his head to feed him some grapes and offer him a drink from his glass, he saw Djang get up. He knew he had to follow, had to get away from the woman.

He stood up, almost throwing her to the floor though she retained her seat on the arm of the chair, giving him a petulant look. He gulped, quickly asking, “Which way to the water closet?”

“Does my lord want me to accompany him?” She leaned forward, her gown falling even further open.

“No!” He tried to compose himself, knowing it had come out too sharply, mumbling a bit as he continued, “Sorry, I just need the water closet.”

“Just behind the stairs my lord.” Delilah winked at him as he started moving away, “I’ll be waiting for your return.” Her voice was a soft purr, and she laughed within again as the boy blushed. But she also realised that maybe she had been too forward. She shrugged, deciding to give him a few minutes before looking for someone else. A fresh boy would have been fun and far less work than some of the experienced customers, but any customer was better than none.

Martin felt relieved as he passed into the shadowy area between the tables. He moved in the direction that he had seen Djang moving, catching a movement from the shadows beneath the stairs. He followed, finding an alcove, but no exit. He frowned, searching along the walls, knowing there must be some kind of entrance, some hidden device to open a door he could not see. His searching fingers found a crack where the edge of a door was and following that he was able to find a slit along the edge, one he could just fit his fingers into and pull the door open. On the other side, it was dark, undoubtedly so no light would escape to give it away on this side.

The other side was pitch black, and as the door closed silently behind him, nothing could be seen. The floor was covered in a soft carpet, no footsteps to shed a sound that would be heard from the brothel or anyone standing in the alcove not knowing what it contained. Moving slowly and carefully in the dark, he made his way across the room. On the other side was a simple wooden wall. Feeling along it with his fingers, he found a railing, grooves in it to make gripping it easy. letting it guide him to a door, clearly a marker for those moving in the darkened room. He stood by the door, listening, nervous about what was on the other side, scared to go through by himself. He swallowed, then felt for a handle, carefully opening it, and peering through. On the other side was a dimly lit hallway, extending downwards. Only a few small torches illuminating it, the floor still soft carpet.

He walked, not knowing for how long, but growing worried as he feared the distance, he was travelling would exceed the range of Gwynneth’s air magic. She said she could track him as he moved, that his unique signature would be brought to her on the air, even through closed doors since nothing could stop everything. Well, nothing except a magic barrier, and they had all agreed that at the first tingle of a mana barrier he would return to the others, but so far there had been nothing except the mundane.

He walked slowly, carefully, using his senses as best he could, remembering the lessons on traps, the practices at finding them. He was no expert, and Kilia far better at it, but his blacksmithing knowledge had helped. Even so, he had not been able to learn a skill for trap finding, though the instructors assured that would come with experience. He walked, feeling the passage sloping down before levelling out.

As he walked, he started to see a glow coming from up ahead, the light flickering as if from a fire or a poorly controlled lantern. He stuck to the walls of the passage, placing his feet carefully, looking forward as carefully as he could, not wanting surprises, or to blunder into another person in the hallway. The lit-up area got closer and he could hear voices coming from there.”

“Patience!” A man’s voice, irritated and gruff, almost a growl. “She will be dead in due course. It is not something that can be rushed. The pain is needed, rushing it will spoil the incantation, and the Masters would not be happy.”

The second was another man, his voice higher, though still course, speaking in the lingo of the streets, “Pain be needed, but time be short! Word comes, hunters be here, and the guild be playing its cards close to its chest.”

“You speak nonsense, we have sources in the guild, they have spoken of nothing of this. Nothing relevant or of impact to us. Not even any new powers amongst them, just some fresh meat we will absorb in time.”

“Your guild pawns be false. I need be prepared. I need protection.”

“Be silent and patient!” The man kept his voice low, though his anger was obvious in his tone, “The girl will die in due course, the summoning will be completed with her pain. Rush it, and what you get will be stunted, protecting you not at all!”

A grunt followed his speech, and Martin could hear some shuffling and the moving of furniture. He dared to move forward a bit, looking into the room. He could see the false Djang, sitting at a table with a large man, both taller and wider than Martin, though far heavier, not all of which looked like fat. He could not see beyond them but could hear soft whimpering sounds coming from the room.

He watched but could see no opportunity to do anything else. A soft breeze tickled his ear, another coming thereafter. “You ok?” The words whispered as the breeze flowed past.

His words were soft, not going beyond his lips but stolen the breeze. “Fine, still watching.” He settled down, being careful t stay out of the light, his gaze not leaving the room with the two men in it.

He could not tell how long it had been, but from the three sets of check-ins from Gwynneth, he knew it must have been three hours, each timed to be shortly after the watch bells. Finally, something seemed to have happened ahead. He saw the two men get up from the table, moving it against the wall as they took up position opposite each other, something between them on the floor that he could not see. They started chanting, their feet shuffling in tandem, their bodies swaying. Slowly the movements got more energetic, the chant louder, their movements involving revolving around whatever was on the floor, bodies gyrating, bobbing, and weaving. He could see why the table had been moved, in their ecstatic dance, as the movements become more energetic, more chaotic, anything in the way could have led to an injury. From where he sat, he could feel the build-up of mana, the flow of energy becoming a circle around whatever was on the floor. He stayed attentive, but ready to move, not knowing what was happening.

Slowly the mana formed a spiral, a twisting inverted funnel, the small side against the roof. He could feel it, the energy straining against the roof as if it were a battering ram, working at breaking through a gate. And, as with a battering ram when not opposed, that is what it eventually did. Martin felt it like an explosion, the mana breaking through, followed by something, a different, darker, energy rushing down the funnel, bound within the circle, covering whatever was there. He saw some movement, a girl standing on disjointed and broken limbs, bones straightening, flesh coming together, blood flowing backwards into her body. She straightened as she stood, her limbs growing thicker with muscle. He saw her yawn, her jaw distending unnaturally as teeth grew, and her face hardened, only to be covered by a sift shimmering light as it returned to normal.

He fled back down the tunnel, though carefully and being sure to make no sound, his efforts helped by the carpet. He made his way through the brothel, back to where the rest of the group awaited him. There would be no raid on Djang tonight. But their mission has just gotten harder, it seemed he now had new protection.