The Last Sin

In front of the Pit were almost a hundred of Steeltown’s forgotten, those too old or too sick to work. They bore the scars of their time in the Dellends, with putrid lesions, scalps missing clumps of hair, and lead-darkened skin. What little clothes they wore hung loose on their thin, unwashed frames.

Some of them shouted.

"Healer! Send out the healer!"

Others were mute, staring at us with vacant, pleading eyes.

I turned to Castille. For the first time since I met her, she was at a loss for words.

"I told them there was no healer, but they won't listen to me!" Cassandra said. She moved behind Castille as the warrior took point at the doors.

"Where are the guards?!" Castille asked.

"Hungover. It’s too early for them to patrol."

Castille fell into her stance, raising her sword at the ready. While some of the crowd stepped back, others shuffled forward, carrying everything from chair legs to rocks. They didn’t stand a chance. If nothing was done, there would be a bloodbath.

Across the street, Reed leaned against the doors of Sanctifier Guildhall, dressed in her all-black uniform. Beside her was a long, two-handed club tall enough to reach her shoulders. In the morning light, its’ blackened iron shined, with short spikes running halfway down its length. Was this the stick she was talking about?

I didn’t have time to ask.

She was watching the crowd with crossed arms, making no effort to move. If a fight broke out, at least she would back us up—relief washed over me and then disgust.

"LLLet me go to them."

While we were focused on the front door, Dugan had crept down the stairs. Isla and Thor stayed on the second floor, looking down on us between the wooden beams of railing.

Cassendra's eyes widened, looking from Dugan to me and Castille.

"When were you going to tell me Dugan was a mage?!”

"Ideally, never," I said.

She scowled.

“Do you know how many of my girls need healing? How many people in town?!"

"Dugan..." Castille said, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "If you go out there, you'll be torn apart."

"Have fffaith, Castille."

"In what?! People?"

"In me."

Castille lowered her sword as she turned her full attention to Dugan. I did the same. The haunted look on his face was gone. His eyes shined with determination. Conviction. Isla's words from a month ago rang in my mind. If Dugan's conviction was strong enough, he could do what he couldn't do last night: save more than one life.

"Castille, we should let him try."

“EEEEEYAAAAAHHH!”

A chorus of shrieks and screams erupted outside. Our heads snapped to the front doors as Van Lagos rode through the crowd on a tall white steed. His horse trampled men, women and children—the flaming scimitar in his left hand cut and seared flesh with each swing. Fifty Lagos guards on foot followed their leader, forming a loose circle around the crowd. Four guards on horseback, including Lira, hung back at the side.

Dugan pushed Castille out of the way to run into the slaughter.

"STOP! VAN LAGOS, STOP!"

Van Lagos pulled on the reins of his horse, smiling as his flaming scimitar buried itself in some poor man’s head.

"Ah, Dugan! Good morning! I was in town on business when I heard about the trouble. I came to help."

He emphasized the point by yanking the sword free, letting the man’s body crumple to the ground.

"Van! Please! Enough! That's enough."

He gave Dugan a puzzled look, shrugging with his arms wide.

"What?! I was helping."

The Dahlgeshi extinguished his flaming sword. He dismounted, stepping on the back of one of the trampled men. Van Lagos clapped Dugan on his shoulder, walking past the speechless man to hand the horse’s reigns to one of his guards.

He walked up the stairs of the Pit, quirking an eyebrow at me and Castille’s drawn weapons.

"Jacob, who is your friend? Another bodyguard like Dugan?"

I picked my jaw off the floor.

"Uh, yeah. This is Castille."

She sheathed her sword, going rigid as Van cupped her right hand and bowed, pressing his forehead against her knuckles.

"The spirits have blessed me to be in the presence of such a beautiful woman."

She frowned.

“Thanks?"

“You’re most welcome.”

He brushed past us to look for a table in the dining area.

I turned to Castille.

She shrugged, looking outside at the writhing mass of bodies. Dugan and the uninjured members of the crowd were separating the injured and the dead. Most guards had wandered off, leaving only ten standing to one side. They held the horses for Lira and the three other mounted guards as they walked to the Pit’s doors. On the other side of the street, Reed was gone.

"I'll stay with Dugan. You deal with Van Lagos."

I nodded, sheathing my short sword and locking it in place with a twist.

Castille marched past Lira and the guards on the Pit’s stairs.

Lira narrowed her eyes at the Northern woman before turning back to me.

"I apologize for the ugliness out front.”

“Do you do that often? Apologize for him?”

A faint smile spread on her face.

“Less than you expect.”

"Hmm. Well, he saved us from that mob."

At what cost? I caught glimpses of Dugan over the guards’ shoulders. He was healing a trampled old woman. The only thing Van Lagos had done was make Dugan's job harder. At this rate, he would burn through all his will by noon.

The Lagos guards walked past me to Van Lagos, who was seated at a table near the back wall. Cassandra brought him a glass of water while Denise stayed far away at the bar. Isla and Thor were no longer at the second floor’s railing. Something about the Dahlgeshi made her more anxious than usual.

She was overreacting. We’d saved his life. Well, Dugan had saved his life. He couldn’t turn on his saviours—at least not publicly. His feline gaze fixed on me as I navigated through the tables and chairs to where he sat, and I second-guessed myself.

Why was he here? If he was just passing through on business, why take a seat?

I meet his eyes. The broad smile on his face was friendly, but friendliness is not friendship.

"Please sit," he said, kicking out a chair.

I sat down. The guards around us stayed standing. They surrounded me like a pride of lions, cutting off my escape routes.

"My brother and Lira told me what happened while I was unconscious. You took out three of my men-”

Hey, Dugan helped.

“And you have weapons hidden on your body."

He looked down at the cane at my hip as if he could see through the table.

"Who are you, Jacob?"

"A merchant."

He sighed.

"Your lie was cute the first time but less so the second. I'll give you one more chance... Who are you, and why are you here?"

Van Lagos tapped his finger on the table, leaving a smoking burn mark where it landed. His smile no longer met his eyes. They were flat and hard—the eyes of a killer. Steel whispered on leather as the guards behind me unsheathed their scimitars.

My heart beat faster. Sweat leaked from my skin like blood from a thousand wounds. I schooled my face, putting on a neutral mask while my mind climbed the walls.

A cover! A cover! I need a new cover!

It needed to be believable. A way to get us into the mountains while explaining away my first lie.

It came to me in a flash of inspiration, a lie so crazy you had to believe it.

"I’m an agent of the Forest Enclave of elves. My team and I were sent to recover artifacts from the Old Elvish Empire."

Van Lagos narrowed his eyes as he tapped on the table, burning a hole in the wooden surface.

I stared back at him, ignoring the sweat dripping down my armpits.

Finally, he smiled.

"See! All I wanted was the truth!”

He leaned back into his chair, relaxing as if he hadn’t just threatened to kill me.

“Is that why you were so interested in the orb?"

"Oh, uh… yeah!"

“Hmm.”

Van Lagos looked off to the side, scratching at his close-cut beard.

This was my chance.

"Van, in return for saving your life, my team wants to explore the Brimspoke mountains to recover whatever artifacts we can find."

Van Lagos turned back to me, pausing before he spoke.

"That can be arranged, but you are mistaken about one thing."

"What's that?"

"My debt to Dugan has already been paid. In return for my life, he is under my protection. By now, everyone in town knows Dugan is a mage. Without me, his continued safety and well-being are not guaranteed."

"Did you see that mob? It’s not guaranteed now."

"Of course, there are undesirables who ignore the social order, but as you can see, I've dealt with them and will continue to do so while you stay in Steeltown. Your team’s access to the mountains and mines under it will require another service."

"Which is?"

"I want you to kill someone for me."