VILLAGE OF DEATH

CHAPTER 2

I

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Though they intended to go right through the ghost town, the group had been pelted by torrential downpours for an hour and a half, so D decided that they’d take shelter instead.

“But as soon as the rain lets up, we move out again, even if it’s the middle of the night. Keep that in mind,” the Hunter told them all once they’d entered a brick building that seemed to be a meetinghouse almost at the center of town.

Aside from the dust and the thick fog of spider webs, the room had suffered almost no damage, and once the atomic lanterns had been lit, Taki and May used a leather sofa as a bed. Outside, the rain echoed like the beating of a war drum, and the girl anxiously fiddled with the front of her blouse.

“It’s really coming down,” Taki said with fear in her voice.

“There’s a river not far from the village, I believe. I wonder if there’s any danger of it overflowing?”

D responded to the baron’s query, saying, “I’ll go have a look.”

His black form was quickly swallowed by a darkness of the same hue.

Taki averted her gaze from the two Nobles out of instinctive fear and hatred.

“Scared?” Miska asked with a mocking laugh after a few minutes of naught but the sound of the rain. “Two Nobles and two humans—as numbers go, a perfect match. When you think of it, it would be strange if nothing happened.”

As the white figure got up off another sofa, something suddenly seemed to slice through the air. Before the little rock could hit the far wall, Miska saw that the one who’d thrown it—May—was fighting her way free of Taki’s grasp to stand up.

“So, my little pebble of an opponent uses a stone to throw the gauntlet, does she?”

Though the girl was even more reckless than her brother, her features hardened at the grim spectacle of the white fangs that peeked from those grinning vermilion lips, but May’s malice promptly came to the fore as she spat, “You think I’m scared of you? Sooner or later, we’ll destroy both of you. If I were frightened, your kind would still be running the show now. You’re an extinct breed, thrown out of our world and with no place else to go. Come on! I’ll take you out right now! I’ll make you pay for what happened to my mother and father!”

“Oh, now this is something I hadn’t heard before. Your father and mother fell into our hands?” the pale woman said, her eyes burning with a cruel delight that spilled over into her next remarks. “How fascinating! I’m sure they must’ve been overjoyed. Very well, I shall send you now to join them.”

May’s body trembled, but not from fear. She shook with a rage she couldn’t contain.

“Stop it!” the figure in blue said as he leapt out in front of Taki, who had taken up a position shielding the girl.

“You’re interfering,” Miska snapped angrily as she stared at the baron. “Why would you protect these wretched humans?”

“I made a promise to D.”

“A filthy half-breed like him—”

“He’s more important to my journey than anyone—even you,” the baron stated, his words carrying more than enough force to shake the bloodthirsty Noblewoman.

Taking advantage of the situation, the baron said, “A stroll on a rainy night might be nice, don’t you think?”

And with that, he reached out and took Miska by the hand.

The Noblewoman wasn’t the only one to have confusion rise on her face. Taki and May looked at each other with astonished expressions.

Water—particularly flowing water—could have fatal effects on the vampiric Nobility. The biorhythms of Nobles soaked by the rain dropped to the nadir, and in the process, their actions became unusually sluggish and their thoughts unfocused. And it was for this reason that even now a Noble’s grave was often soaked with hoses or buckets of water before it was pried open. There were a number of examples of travelers who’d been attacked but had saved themselves by running out into the rain, and many carried a pot of water with them when they took to the road.

Opening a case he’d unloaded from the carriage, the baron handed Taki a plasma rifle and told her, “In case of emergency. We’ll be right back.”

And then he stepped outside with Miska. The outlines of the pair turned white from the spray of the rain, and then even that faded away.

__

Right in front of D, the black water raced by with a deafening roar. The Hunter’s eyes could see through the darkness as clearly as if it were broad daylight, and even in a torrential downpour, he could tell in an instant that fording this muddy flow anytime soon would be impossible. The waterway was a good hundred yards wide—some might even call it a major river. Once strong wooden bridges had spanned it, opening trade routes with other villages, but after the villagers left, they’d rotted and had been washed away, leaving the group no choice but to cross at a rope bridge much further upstream or use a ferry a great distance downstream. What’s more, perhaps due to the dark clouds hovering overhead, the black expanse of water grew as the Hunter watched, to the point where it was about to overflow its banks.

Just then, D did something strange as he watched the flow. He put the blade of the sword he’d drawn against the palm of his left hand.

“Not gonna be able to do it right away,” said a voice that mixed with the sound of the rain.

“When will you be back?” asked the Hunter.

“In an hour or two at the earliest. In the meantime, you’ll have to find another weapon. I’m sure you could cut down the average monster with this thing, but our foes this time are pretty tough—”

“Leave that to me,” D said as the water that’d already climbed the banks suddenly jumped from his ankles to his knees.

A second later, D’s body flew lightly into the air as he leapt back fifteen feet to an enormous tree and landed on a branch about the same distance from the ground. If not for the pounding rain, it would’ve been clear that neither the branch nor its leaves stirred in the slightest. However, descending from Noble blood or not, it was a rather exaggerated effort to flee from the running water.

The reason for his actions became clear from the way D concentrated his gaze on the muddy black flow.

A number of figures had risen from the water that’d covered the banks. The shapes that showed through the semi-translucent gelatinous substance coating them from the top of their heads to the tips of their toes made it clear they were human. But who were they? There was only one thing that could bring them to the ghost town this rainy night—and from the way they’d made their appearance, getting shelter from the rain wasn’t their aim.

D did nothing, and as his silent vigil continued, the foremost form raised one hand to give a signal. The figures dove in one after another, the jelly around them turning the same color as the water before every bump and contour melted away in a mere foot or two of the flow and they drifted off.

“More assassins, you suppose?”

Without responding, D leapt to the next closest tree to the village.

“Hold up a second. I wanna see what they can do,” the hoarse voice said.

†

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When the rain wasn’t actually falling on them, the sound of it was a comforting melody. The baron and Miska stood under the eaves of a shrine a short distance from the meetinghouse.

“What was this?” Miska asked as she turned to look up at the shrine and its lofty tower.

“This was where the villagers worshiped their gods, I imagine.”

“Gods—what nonsense! We are the only gods the human race needed. I wonder if the administration bureau in this district did nothing to suppress these practices.”

“Even in the Capital they had their holy places. Force probably couldn’t do anything to change that. They believe in something greater.”

“You seem rather well informed regarding humans,” Miska said with a sarcastic smile. “I wonder if that might be the reason you let those children do whatever they wish.”

“Are you keeping yourself in check?”

The baron’s question shook Miska. It had just dawned on her that at some point, the desire to drink blood had completely left her.

“I got a slight sense of it from your attitude and the way you look at them—in which case, it’s a rather intriguing development,” the baron remarked.

“What is?”

“We may be the first Nobles to successfully control our urge to drink blood in the presence of humans.”

Miska stiffened as if a jolt of electricity had just passed through her, then quickly tilted her head back on her pale neck and laughed.

“Baron Balazs, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. The only reason I have left them alone is to honor your wishes. If you were but to give me your blessing, I would return posthaste and you should see me clamp onto their throats.”

The baron turned his thoughtful countenance in another direction. Black water was streaming down the street.

“Have the banks overflowed? The way it’s raining—” he muttered as the black current promptly covered the steps. From the way it was going, it only seemed a matter of time before the interior of the buildings would be flooded as well.

Tension filled the baron and Miska at essentially the same time the black blobs flew up out of the water.

“Ah!” Miska cried as she covered her face. A jet of black liquid had shot from the face of the shadowy figure to plaster her eyes.

The amphibious attacker croaked out a froglike laugh, but a heartbeat later, his face was split lengthwise. He probably couldn’t believe it, because the same viscous mass that’d robbed Miska of her vision had been launched at the baron as well. Just before he was reduced to a corpse and fell back into the black water, he’d seen that the baron had one hand up shielding his eyes . . . and the viscous mass clung to the back of the Nobleman’s hand.

“Are you okay?” the baron asked as he raced over to Miska.

“I can’t see,” she said in a composed tone.

“Does it hurt?”

“No. But it’s not coming off easily. Who could these characters be?”

“I have some idea,” the baron said gravely. “Let’s go back. The meetinghouse might be under attack.”

“Once again, thinking of the lowly humans.”

Though her voice was choked with malice, Miska had lost some of her forcefulness along with her sight, and the baron took her by the hand and began to walk away.

It was at just that moment that the earth sank. Was it the power of the muddy flow? No, insistent as that was, it didn’t have that sort of force. The houses here had also been built to withstand it.

To the rear of the unexpectedly reeling baron, a trio of figures leapt up from a depth of water that ordinarily never could’ve concealed anything their size.

His left hand still holding onto Miska’s, the baron latched onto a column supporting the porch with his right. Now he didn’t have use of either hand.

Behind him, sharp gleams came from the hands of his foes—metallic claws. They were eight inches long. Apparently believing their chances of victory good, the attackers pounced, bringing their claws down artlessly in midair at the backs of the Nobles.

At that instant, a single flash of light mowed through the torsos of the trio. They probably never even realized it’d come from under the baron’s cape.

The shadowy figures sprayed a liquid darker than the black waters as they fell, but the baron didn’t even bother to turn and look at them as he made a hard pull on his left hand. Wrapping his arm around Miska’s waist as she flew up easily, he then swung both feet upward. A black hole opened in the porch roof, a product of a mighty kick—or rather, the strength of the Noble’s legs. His feet kept going right through the hole, and through some maneuver or other, the baron’s body followed suit as he and Miska went out through the ceiling.

“Do you think this sinking is their doing?” Miska asked, easily maintaining her balance on the pitched roof.

“Without a doubt,” the baron said, handing Miska a handkerchief blue as the twilight and telling her to use it to shield herself from the rain.

The flash that had dispatched the trio of assassins had already returned to the interior of his cape. With such speed, power, and control, the baron’s secret weapon could cover him against attacks from all three hundred sixty degrees, and any opponent trying to take him by surprise would find themselves dead and buried before they even got off a single attack. Perhaps even D.

“Let’s go,” the baron said, his arm still wrapped around Miska’s waist.

A particularly strong gust of wind-driven rain blurred the two outlines as it passed. And once it died down, the pair of Nobles was no longer there.

__

II

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“Water!” Taki turned and shouted after standing in the doorway looking outside. “The river’s overflowed. Head upstairs!”

But by the time Taki had finished speaking, the girl was already speeding toward the staircase, accompanied by a dazzling light. With only the atomic lantern and what baggage she could carry, May was truly a person of the Frontier.

When Taki reached the stairs, the tarlike water swelled under the door, spreading across the floor like a cloud of black smoke. Less than a foot deep, it split open as a pair of figures leapt from it to land right in front of May, who was only one step from the top of the staircase.

There was a shriek, and Taki whirled around in its direction with the plasma rifle. Though her finger was on the trigger, she stopped just a heartbeat short of firing it.

One of the two figures with froglike heads and bodies had reached out with a hand full of strangely sharp claws and scooped up May.

A second later, a searing pain shot down Taki’s spine and she tumbled backward. A shadowy figure who’d leapt up from the water without making a sound had brought his claws down on her. As she lost her balance, she fell into a pair of clammy arms.

Thick lips opened like a crevice, and the dark figure said, “The kid we’ll take hostage.”

His voice was exactly what one would expect if a frog were capable of human speech.

“This other one—you can dispose of.”

From the feel of Taki’s body as it went limp, it looked like she had no strength to fight them, and the creature raised his clawlike weapon to strike the fatal blow. And he did so slowly.

“Sorry, but it’s better to give than to receive,” Taki said just as the claws suddenly stopped and her bloodied form spun around.

Her right elbow shot up at an angle, slamming into the batrachian’s face with peerless precision. As he lurched away with a groan of pain, she used her own weight to slam him face first into the wall, and when she leapt clear of him, she already had the plasma rifle braced against her shoulder.

The compatriots that’d been holding May sprang at Taki from up on the staircase. As they plummeted toward her, they were greeted by flashes of crimson light. Hit directly in the base of the neck, both the top and bottom halves of their bodies were reduced to vapor.

As Taki dashed up a few stairs, a froggy voice called down to her, “I’ll kill the brat!”

From below, another called out, “Drop it!”

The latter was bellowed angrily by the one she’d nailed in the face, but since his face had been broad and flat from the start and he wasn’t bleeding, the only way to judge how badly he’d been hurt was by the sound of his voice.

No matter what she did, it was clear that Taki, with foes to either side of her, was caught in a deadly bind. If she let go of her plasma rifle, they would most likely carve out her heart with their cruel clawed weapons.

“Taki!” May cried, her voice stabbing the young woman’s eardrums like a knife. Perhaps they were hurting her, because it sounded like something was clogging her throat.

“Don’t you lay a hand on that girl or I’ll shoot!”

“Drop it,” the other voice countered.

But the coup de grace was when May stammered, “T-Taki . . .”

The pain became an unfathomable weight that hung on the end of Taki’s plasma rifle.

Seeing the barrel of the weapon sink, the frog man below croaked out a laugh.

And just as he did, there was what sounded like an explosion as a window facing the second-floor hallway shattered. As the froglike man turned in amazement, it came as little surprise he used May as a shield. A heartbeat later, one of his eyes was pierced by a rough wooden needle.

What happened in the next instant even D probably couldn’t have imagined as he kicked off the floor. May’s body slipped easily from the grasp of the reeling foe and she executed a beautiful somersault, then went on to bring a kick up under her opponent’s jaw that laid him out on his back.

The instant he saw a blast from the plasma rifle down on the staircase cut the villain’s body in half, D reversed his sword in midair and turned it into a bolt of lightning.

The frog man who was about to pounce on Taki from behind had the Hunter’s blade protruding from his belly. Slain instantly by the powerful thrust, the amphibious humanoid made no effort to remove himself from the blade, but flipped over the handrail and fell into the black water below.

“Have a look at her,” D told Taki, who was still frozen partway up the staircase, as he leapt over the handrail to reclaim his sword. Pulling his blade out of the potbellied villain who’d sunk into the water, he then returned to the second floor, where Taki had the trembling girl hugged to her bosom.

“She’s not hurt,” Taki informed him as she rubbed the girl’s head. “She’s so strong. She didn’t cry or anything.”

Without replying, D looked at the young woman and told her, “You did well.”

Letting out a sigh, Taki said, “You choose the damnedest times to show up, you know.” She sounded angry. This was a result of a psychological swing brought about by her sudden feelings of relief.

By the time D had raced back to them by leaping from tree to tree, the black water had already inundated the meetinghouse. After landing on the roof, D had seen the situation through a skylight and narrowly managed to intervene.

Turning his gaze to the blackish figure that lay a short distance away, he asked Taki, “Ever seen them before?”

“Of course I haven’t.”

“You sure they’re not some of Lord Johann’s tricks?”

“I’ve never laid eyes on them. But they could be something he was saving for a special occasion.”

D circled around behind Taki without another word. Just below her right shoulder, a pair of gashes ran all the way down to her waist. If they’d been a half inch closer to her backbone, her spinal column would’ve been irreparably damaged. Needless to say, she was covered with blood.

“Don’t move,” D said as he put the palm of his left hand to the gash on the right.

“Don’t touch it!”

“This is just first aid.”

As his hand slid lower, lazy wisps of white smoke rose from where he came into contact with her wound. The rent flesh closed miraculously.

Treating the other gash, D then straightened up again and said, “You’ll be fully healed in two days’ time.”

Tossing her head lightly, Taki asked, “What are you?”

“Never mind me. You should be asking who they are,” D replied.

“You should ask me,” someone else said.

Baron Balazs and Miska stood in the doorway to the hall.

Taking his eyes off the opponent D had slain, the baron said, “They are assassins sent by my father.”

__

Leaving the two girls in an empty room that’d been prepared for them, D went into a room across the hallway. The baron and Miska were waiting there.

Apparently once a committee room of some sort, the chamber, some five or six hundred square feet, was littered with an assortment of rustic desks and chairs.

“Have they gone to sleep?” asked the baron.

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t look like the rain will let up. After we’ve had about an hour’s rest, I’d like to set out again.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Why don’t we leave immediately?” Miska asked after turning from the window that’d allowed her to gaze outside.

“The humans need to rest during normal human hours. You’ll just have to bear with us for a while.”

“In that case, let them sleep all they like. However, we can’t do that here if you wish to depart before those assassins’ compatriots arrive. No matter how you look at it, leaving immediately is the best course of action. My dear baron, you’re putting your head into the noose. And all because of that baggage. Leave them here!”

The Noblewoman’s eyes looked like fire would erupt from them, but they were met by a deep gaze.

“I can’t do that. What’s more, that’s not to say we can’t wait. I will take full responsibility for seeing you safely to your destination.”

“They were synthetic life forms,” D said, changing the subject. He was referring to the froglike assassins. “Do you know everything your father has up his sleeve? It will be problematic if there are more things lying in wait for us up ahead.”

“Some of them I know. Some of them I don’t,” the baron replied stoically.

He was out to take his own father’s life, and his father had designs on taking the young Nobleman’s as well. His expression made clear that he knew perfectly well the gravity of the situation.

He then said, “Foes before us and foes to the rear—things are getting a bit tricky, aren’t they, D?”

“Is your father aware of your abilities?”

“Yes, he’s known for quite some time,” the baron replied, a fitting response for an immortal Noble.

“Can we get rid of the carriages?” D asked him.

“I have no objection.”

“According to the map, there’s an airfield nearby. It’s been out of use for a long time, but I heard ages ago that there were still aircraft left there.”

“Oh really?” said the baron, his eyes glittering. “In that case, it’d be but a short flight. But just how long ago was this?”

“Quite some time.”

“Perhaps nothing remains now of these flying machines but the stories,” the baron remarked with a wry grin. “However, it still may be worth going for a look. So long as we’re not chasing a phantom.”

There was no reply. D seemed to have his ears focused on the sound of the rain.

The baron followed his example.

A strange rhythm—that was the only way to describe the beautiful melody that drifted through the room.

“Why, that’s the sound of a harp,” Miska said, her eyes still shut. She, too, had been listening intently.

“A water harp, to be precise,” the baron said as he gazed out the window. “Let’s get going, D.”

“What’s a water harp?” asked D.

“Strings stretched either through the water at the base of a waterfall or out in the rain. They make a beautiful sound when they come into contact with water, and if any living creature touches them, they wrap around it and choke the life from it. Those who approach it—” the baron said, and he’d already started walking.

Slipping through the doorway, the Nobleman stepped out into the hall. Confirming that there was no one out there, he then opened the door across from them.

A pale figure had one leg resting on the sill of the open window and her upper body leaning out. Flying effortlessly through the air, the baron caught Taki around the waist and pulled her back in. Held tightly by his arms of steel, the young woman waved her arms about, trying to move forward again. The utter lack of expression on her face was disturbing.

D then went over to the window and peered out through the opening that had allowed May to escape.

“They weren’t intended as hostages,” said the Hunter.

“Precisely. You and I can withstand this because of who we are. But even among the Nobility there are few who can resist the sound of the water harp. We must find the girl.”

Before the baron had finished speaking, D stepped out of the room. Going back to the first room, he quickly returned again. The Nobleman might’ve done something special, because Taki was now snoring away on the bed.

“What of Miska?” the baron inquired.

“Apparently she was called away.”

D stepped closer to the window. The tune of the water harp played on.

“Two blocks south of here there’s a house of worship. Let’s move over there.”

By that, the Hunter must’ve meant that the enemy was already wise to their location.

“Very well,” the baron said with a nod, but the beautiful figure in black didn’t even wait for this reply before melding with the darkness.

As he turned a melancholy profile to the notes splashed out on the harp by raindrops, the Nobleman said, “I’m counting on you, D.”

And with those words, the baron gently lifted the sleeping girl.

__

III

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A muddy black stream appeared to have melted the road, and D could see it as clearly as if it were midday. Though it wasn’t as strong as it’d been immediately after overflowing the banks, the water that clung to him almost to the knee still had a current powerful enough to keep anyone from moving with perfect freedom. Undoubtedly both May and Miska had walked down the elevated planks of the roofed sidewalks as they’d left . . . or as they were spirited away. The strings of the harps seemed to have been strung everywhere, as their haunting echoes grew neither closer nor farther away.

Going from roof to roof, D continued north. The rain pouring down from the heavens, the water rushing across the ground, and the sounds of the harp that tied them both together—each of the three made a different noise, but the Hunter could sense the slightest added disturbance in each.

His foes were moving underwater. They could normally move undetected even by D, perhaps maneuvering around the wires strung everywhere. The added disturbance to the sounds of the water was no doubt due to the fact they had Miska and May with them. In a sense, these hostages were their greatest weakness.

Coming to the end of a row of houses, D leapt into the air without ever breaking his stride. A gorgeous darkness crossed through the dim night, landing again on a massive branch of a tree nearly thirty feet away. Astonishingly enough, not so much as a single leaf stirred. Needless to say, D had elected to move through the air to avoid fighting his foes in the water—their home territory.

Even the ageless and immortal Nobility had a number of weaknesses, and water was one of them. When Nobles came into direct contact with the rain, their metabolic functions dropped to half their normal levels, and if submerged, they became like statues, barely able to move their arms or legs at all. The sight of this gorgeous dhampir effortlessly traveling from tree to tree under such unfavorable conditions was nothing short of miraculous.

Poised to leap down to the ground from the last of the trees, D suddenly halted.

He was at the edge of the village. Part of the outer palisade was completely missing, as if something had taken a bite out of it. Miska and May had probably been taken out this way.

D’s attention remained focused on the darkness. A white line ran from the branch on which he stood to a grove of trees—the water harp had been strung here as well. Ordinarily, D would’ve had no trouble at all finding it. But the effects of the rain might mean the difference between life and death.

D became a black wind as he slipped around the right end of the line.

A rough slap echoed from his body. With exquisite timing the wind had lashed him with rain.

Still, D didn’t break form as he sailed toward his intended grove, but when he came down on a branch slick with water, it was truly unforeseen that one of his feet should slip out from under him. As he tried to regain his balance, his swaying form was once again blasted by wind and rain, and his left hand went for one of the harp strings.

The jolt to the taut line traveled through the grove, and then raced across the ground. Dozens of lines that’d been set up God-only-knows-where let go, flying at D up on the branch a heartbeat later.

And what became of those who’d plucked at the harp’s strings? The strings that struck the tree trunk sank halfway into it, and the massive branch was lopped off like a piece of straw.

If all of the attacks had originated from the same point of the ground, D might’ve been able to fend them off. But the strings assailed him from all directions.

The rain stopped. Or rather, it was cut short—cut down by a stark blade slashing through the darkness. On the ground, on the branch, and above both—the scattered raindrops carried pieces of the wires with them.

Having sliced through each and every one of the slender instruments of death flying at him, D then launched himself at the next stand of trees.

__

Miska was conscious. Those mesmerized by the strains of the water harp usually hastened to the source of the sounds, as numbed as a sleepwalker. But surely the reason Miska was aware of her surroundings was because of the extraordinary senses she possessed as a Noble.

After slipping out of her room, the first thing she’d done was to go down into the street where the water flowed. And when she did, something caught hold of both of her ankles and began to pull her against the flow. She knifed through the water at a speed that rivaled a motorboat, propelled by a force she couldn’t comprehend—a force that defied normal physics.

In less than five minutes’ time Miska had left the village and even crossed the river with consummate ease before being sucked into the enormous whirlpool that opened at the roots of the colossal tree towering over the northern forest. And all the while, her speed never dropped for an instant.

The reason the colossal bole had been put to various uses over several centuries was its absolutely preposterous size. At the base it was thick enough that a hundred people would need to join hands just to encompass it, and it rose haughtily to the heavens, dwarfing the surrounding trees with its height of over three thousand feet. When people learned there were natural cavities in it—and the ownership of the land had changed several times—they made use of the spaces and carved new passages wherever it suited them, making rooms large and small, then stocked the tree with vast amounts of goods which were then protected by the people and weapons they posted there. At times the colossal tree could be a watchtower beyond compare, a control tower for an airfield, or an evacuation center during disasters, and it was also the ideal storehouse.

And now, you could say it was being put to a somewhat more peculiar use.

What awaited Miska inside the massive tree, with its twisting maze of stairs and passageways and both small rooms and structures two or three stories tall was May—who’d been abducted just shortly before her—and about a dozen black figures. At a glance it was clear that the shadowy figures croaking like amphibians were synthetic life forms, but among them there was one who looked like a normal human, and he stepped to the fore.

“Ah, just what I would expect from a Noble! You may have lost mastery of your body, but the control of your brain seems to be another matter,” he said.

Beneath the night-vision goggles set in his helmet, his right eye alone seemed to give off a fierce gleam—he only had the use of one eye. From the nose down, the rest of his face was concealed from prying eyes by a shield of black metal. But that shield was apparently equipped with an amplifier for his voice. Every time the man drew a breath, it was accompanied by a rasping whistle.

“However, that is unfortunate for you,” he continued. “Now that you’re before me and I see that you’re a Noble, I can’t let you have an easy death. Soak her in the vat!”

Apparently Miska knew what the result of this torture would be, and her beautiful countenance—ordinarily the very epitome of haughtiness—grew pale, as if the blood had drained from it.

Without further ado, pulleys clanged from the darkened region of the ceiling and a container that would easily accommodate five or six people was lowered. Several of those who stood behind the leader quickly raced over and steadied it on the floor. Water filled it to the very brim.

“I’ve heard that if you soak them for a full day, even a Noble will be headed for the next life. Is that true? Well, I have a different punishment to try with you.” Turning to the others, he said, “At any rate, get her in the water.”

A number of arms lifted Miska like a mannequin and put her in the vat.

“Add the acid!”

One of the man’s subordinates appeared from somewhere carrying another container and began to transfer its contents into Miska’s vat with a wooden ladle. When the semitransparent liquid came into contact with the water, white smoke went up like steam from a geyser.

An unvoiced scream split the Noblewoman’s seductive lips. The acid-laced water—or the water-laced acid—burned Miska’s skin, dissolving the very flesh.

“This acid was especially made for torturing the Nobility. But truth be told, it was a Noble that came up with it,” the leader remarked with visible amusement. “Although it won’t destroy you completely, it’ll torment the hell out of you. There’s really no difference between what humans and Nobles will do, is there?”

“Who—who are you?” Miska heard herself ask.

The pain was so great she’d regained the use of her vocal chords. Yet her body remained immobilized.

“Why not simply run me through the heart . . . Your halfhearted games . . . will be repaid a thousandfold in pain . . .”

Her voice then became an agonized squeak. More acid had been added.

“That’s enough. But don’t let it get any weaker, either,” the leader told the subordinate holding the ladle, and then he turned to May, who stood in a daze beside him. When he placed his right hand on the crown of her head, a single spasm went through May’s body, and then the life returned to her eyes.

“Notice anything?” the leader inquired as the girl backed away from him reflexively.

“Never fear. We won’t do anything to you for the time being,” the leader said, his voice tinged with mirth. “We’d intended to use you as a hostage, but the Noblewoman came along, too. We can make better use of her. Just stay here and behave yourself for a while.”

He gave May a frightening glance that froze her on the spot.

“What will you do with her?” the girl asked when she saw the vat that contained Miska.

“That should be obvious. We’re going to use her as a hostage instead of you. Luck was with you.”

“She looks like she’s in terrible pain. What did you do to her?”

“We’re soaking her in a special acid that dissolves Nobles’ flesh. Though it can’t destroy them, I’m sure it must hurt terribly.”

“How could you do such a thing? Please, stop it! Save her!”

“What?!”

The leader’s reaction was the very peak of astonishment, but Miska herself must’ve been even more dumbfounded. Her agonized expression quickly turned to face the girl.

The leader fixed May with a hard stare.

“You mean . . . When I heard they were traveling with human children, I thought you were their snack, but you still look normal enough. Why would a human stick up for a Noble?”

The information he had on May must’ve been supplied by the first group of assassins the group had encountered.

“I’m not sticking up for her at all,” the girl replied clearly. “But when you do something that horrible, it makes us just as bad as the Nobility.”

The eyes of the leader opened even wider.

“Could it be you’ve been brainwashed? It wouldn’t be beyond them.”

“It’s not like that. I’m fine. That’s why I know what you’re doing isn’t right.”

“We’re talking about a Noble here. These are the same creatures that tortured and killed us like insects for many long years. In a manner of speaking, we’re just paying them back.”

“You mean you’re human, too?”

At her grave question the leader laughed out loud.

“Indeed I am. Although thanks to the Nobility you would protect, I was given my current condition.”

“So—they did something to you?”

The leader said nothing.

A voice that seemed to rise from the bowels of the earth made the two of them turn around.

“Why would a Noble choose to use a human?” Miska asked as she glared at them with glittering eyes from the bubbling vat. “You must be one of the assassins dispatched by the baron’s father. Oh, it makes my sides ache that you should choose to call us your foe. Do the Nobility’s trained dogs forget their place and stand on two legs when they see a human?”

“You’ve let your mouth run a bit too far, princess,” the leader said as he walked over to Miska and grabbed her left earlobe. Drawing the hefty broadsword that hung from his hip, he put it against the back of her ear.

“Don’t—”

Before May’s scream had finished, he sliced one of the Noblewoman’s ears clean off. Red droplets dripped into the vat of boiling acid, quickly mixing with the liquid.

“Next I’ll shave off your nose and carve out your eyes. But don’t die on me. I have a million interesting ideas of what to do to you!”

“I won’t die.”

Miska’s reply froze May.

“Do you think this is all it takes to destroy a Noble? You said we treated you like insects, but I happen to be quite fond of insects. After I was done ripping others of your kind to shreds, I always gave them to the insects to eat. The fact of the matter is, you were lower than worms.”

She tried to laugh, but her face was pulled to one side. The leader grabbed a fistful of her golden hair and yanked it right out of her head. Half the beauty’s face—or rather, her whole face by this point—was stained with vermilion, but as shocking as this was, it was the sight of her half-denuded head that made May hide her face in her hands.

Dropping the bloodied ear and clump of hair on the floor, the leader stuck his hand in the acid.

“Oh, your face is a mess now. I suppose we’ll have to disinfect that wound, won’t we?”

He let the water he’d scooped up fall directly into the wound. The flesh dissolved, and a cry split Miska’s lips.

“Have some more,” he said, water trailing from his hand as he raised it, but then a black shape hit his arm.

In a bound, May had sailed over the leader, delivering a kick to his wrist with one foot in the process. The water splashed on the leader’s coat, which gave off white smoke.

A number of figures surrounded May when she landed.

“Don’t touch her,” the leader reprimanded them. “Being human, I should think even the most upstanding of people would be overjoyed to see a Noble in torment. Put the Noblewoman in a cell, and bring the girl to my room.”

The man actually sounded rather intrigued.

“Mister Galil, sir,” one of his subordinates said in a froglike voice.

“What is it?”

“Part of the water harp has been broken. It seems a foe has slipped in through the break.”

“Let them come. Whether our foe is the baron or his bodyguard, we should be more than enough to handle either of them.”