THE DESTROYER AND THE PRINCESS FAIR

CHAPTER 2

-

I

-

It was just then that a black streak of whip came seemingly out of nowhere. Winding tightly around D’s waist with a crisp snap, the whip carried him from the edge of the abyss out onto the burning land. As he came back to earth, D didn’t stand, but rather rolled with a shower of sparks. The earth was still breaking open.

And from the abyss there loomed a vivid wall of pink. Looking wet as a heat shimmer in this world of flames, it rose up to a height of over thirty feet, then fell to the ground, crushing grass and fire beneath it. D was already sixty feet ahead of it. And while it was a flat, thick slab of meaty tongue, it nevertheless began to pursue D in inchworm fashion, only at a daunting speed. In no time it closed the distance to thirty feet.

Just as the great wave of flesh was about to come crashing down, there was a flash of white light. Bright blood billowed out like a snowstorm.

Without a backward glance at the crazed spasms of the ten feet of tongue he’d carved open, D dashed on. Behind him, another wave was closing. Another beefy tongue had lolled from the pit.

The tongues seemed to be those of the earth itself. Now there were three of them after D—seizing some sort of small animal, one of them swiftly dragged it back into the abyss.

One above him and the other below, the pair of undulating waves of flesh were once again ready to consume D when a band of light mowed through them. The fleshy tongues that even D’s blade hadn’t been able to sever were easily sliced into four pieces, and ignoring the death throes of the tips flopping around on the ground, the main portions were drawn back into the abyss.

The shadowy form of a carriage appeared in front of D. Beside it stood the baron, but once he’d seen D, the Nobleman quickly opened the door and climbed into the vehicle.

“Looks like he was waiting for you. So, was that flash of light just now his too? For a full-blooded Noble, he sure holds up well in the sunlight,” a hoarse voice remarked.

Without replying, D raced over to the carriage and swiftly climbed into the driver’s seat. The second he took up the reins, the whole world tilted violently. Fifteen feet to the right of them, another maw had opened in the earth. The vehicle’s wheels tore into the ground and the carriage raced forward. The crevice was right behind it, instantly swallowing the same ground the vehicle had just covered.

“Wha—what the hell is all this?!” the Hunter’s left hand bellowed.

“An earthwyrm,” D replied. Apparently his interest had been piqued as well.

The left hand muttered pensively, “An earthwyrm? Then there’s nothing we can do.”

Inhabiting regions more than fifteen hundred feet below the planet’s surface and reaching lengths of up to thirty miles, these enormous creatures had been considered mere legend until a scant four thousand years earlier. When certain circumstances forced the Nobility to construct a subterranean city, a team of their scientists came into contact with an earthwyrm in a spot ten thousand feet under the northern Frontier, and as soon as they struck part of its enormous body, they were simultaneously writing new pages in the histories of both biology and biological warfare. The titanic earthwormlike creatures dubbed “earthwyrms” were endowed with what was an ideal system for an organism to remain alive—they drew the very soil into their bodies and converted it to energy. In a manner of speaking, they were like holy men who were said to live off the dew.

Already ageless and undying and hindered only by their inability to operate by daylight, the Nobility harnessed the creatures’ energy, creating soldiers that were not only as immortal as their creators, but that could also continue to fight outside any time restrictions. The Greater Nobility who controlled the Frontier and the polar regions worked on making their own personal armies of the creatures without notifying the central division, while others among them were more overt about raising the flag of rebellion. After three centuries of fighting, the central executives who’d somehow managed to kill or contain the Greater Nobility prohibited for all time the production of immortal soldiers and sealed all information about their life-sustaining processes in the core of a superdense star far out in the Milky Way. In order to keep their secrets completely safe, the rest of these earthwyrms would need to be exterminated, but where that was physically impossible, a special concrete material they couldn’t penetrate was poured from the surface of the earth almost all the way down to the magma in regions where they were suspected of dwelling. The one that’d been prodded into activity by the waves of heat now scorching the surface world had either broken out of whatever had sealed it away, or else it had managed to remain free from the very beginning.

This was just one? The body of each individual earthwyrm had innumerable energy intakes—in other words, mouths and tongues. If they moved their body, they could destroy everything on the surface and send it all falling into the depths of the earth. They were like a kind of living Armageddon.

“We’re not gonna make it. We’ll be swallowed!”

As if in response to the cry from his left hand, D reached out with his right and grabbed the wooden lever next to the brake—something that hadn’t been there until two days earlier. From a compartment on the underside of the carriage a pair of black globes were released, disappearing into the crevice that pursued the vehicle.

How far underground was his foe? A thousand feet, by D’s estimation.

It was three seconds later that a new rumble traveled up through the spinning carriage wheels. A dull explosion could be heard off in the distance.

“It’s stopped! Looks like that did the trick.”

As he listened to the voice from his left hand, the Hunter’s ultrakeen senses did indeed tell him the crevasse was no longer pursuing them, but his exquisite face was emotionless as he stared straight ahead, as if everything had gone according to plan.

Two days earlier, the group had encountered a traveling blacksmith in the middle of a forest. A traveler could ask for no stauncher ally. The last remnants of a band of craftsmen trained in secret techniques passed down from antiquity, they could use the very latest electronics technology that puzzled even the Nobility. Serving travelers and villages on the Frontier, they could upgrade their customers’ tools and weapons, doing conversions to the hardware or even crafting new items on the spot when necessary.

D had requested that the blacksmith augment the carriage’s armaments within half a day’s time. But there was more to the vehicles of the Nobility than mere elegance. Their sleek bodies were layered with panels that could disrupt three-dimensional radar and ultrasound systems, and many of the intricate carvings concealed equipment that would unleash laser beams or ultracompact missiles, spearheads or iron arrows. Once the doors were closed, the entire carriage was transformed into a fortress sealed tight. And that was merely the standard equipment. The higher a Noble’s rank, the more enemies they had, and their vehicles would be adorned with the staggering array of armaments and defensive equipment dreamt up by their personal teams of scientists.

In the entire human world, the only ones with the technical skill to match the Nobility and even scorn those accomplishments were the tribe of traveling smiths. The vibrating body that had deflected the enemy’s insectoid incendiary missiles and the weapons compartment on the underside of the carriage were both the traveling smith’s handiwork. The work had been done by a man who seemed to barely be in his twenties.

After taking his payment, he’d rapped on the body of the vehicle, saying, “Now she’s a match for your average Noble’s tank or even a pillbox. Part of that’s my skill, but of course, she was pretty solid to start. Well, the folks riding inside will be able to tell when they see it, I wager.”

Traveling blacksmiths didn’t discriminate in their trade. Humans and Nobility were treated equally, and because of that, they were distrusted and despised by a portion of mankind—a situation not unlike that of someone else there.

Finally, he gave D a clap on the shoulder and said, “Looks like someone worked on it once before I did. That’s okay—I kicked the offensive and defensive capabilities of that up a notch, too. My treat. Godspeed to you.”

“You have our thanks.”

The young man’s eyes went wide, and he said, “That’s not what I’d expect to hear from you, but don’t mention it.”

D had watched in silence as the steam-driven truck raced off into the distance.

-

It was about twenty minutes later that the wildfire reached its denouement. An automated plane dispatched from parts unknown had scattered vast amounts of firefighting chemicals.

“That’d be the Nobility’s fire-prevention systems, I guess,” the Hunter’s left hand muttered.

Even with all the Nobility’s scientific skill, it was impossible to anticipate every disaster or fluctuation of nature. Due to this, in regions where an area of a certain size was recognized as having artistic or scientific merit, a fully automated firefighting system was sure to be installed, and this was perhaps the most positive factor in the Nobility’s legacy. The people needn’t ever be deprived of the beauty of lakes that reflected the setting sun, windswept prairies, and life-giving forests that rang with endless birdsong. But those who’d managed to create that system were fading with the setting sun, while those who appreciated that accomplishment the most were the same ones who’d destroyed its creators. The firefighting plane just now must’ve been driven by some remnant of the software for such a system.

“We seem to have made it through,” the baron’s voice remarked.

“Where’s Miska’s carriage?” D asked.

“There’s a little river and a linden tree about a dozen miles from here. That’s where she is.”

However, when they arrived less than ten minutes later, the linden tree cast a supple reflection on the glittering water of the river, but Miska’s carriage was nowhere to be seen.

“Do you think someone spirited her away?” the baron inquired as D stared off at the far edge of the plain, as if to suggest that was the source of those responsible for the abductions.

“Your father?” the Hunter inquired.

“Probably,” the Nobleman replied, and by that he included those working for Lord Vlad.

“If they headed straight into Krauhausen—” D muttered before falling silent.

“—Miska is in danger,” the baron continued. “All will be well so long as they don’t wake the Destroyer that slumbers within her. But if she were to be subjected to some cruel torture, the Destroyer might awaken to protect its host.”

“What do you think they’ll do with the girls?” the Hunter asked in a voice like ice.

And for the first time, the baron may have noticed the fundamental difference between D and himself.

“They won’t kill them right away,” he replied after a short pause. “I know how he is. He’s certain to use them to try to destroy us. But even I’m not sure exactly what form that will take.”

With gravity to his tone, he called out, “D, I don’t suppose I could get you to extend our arrangement until the three of them have been rescued?”

“No,” he replied frostily. For the gorgeous Vampire Hunter, they were no more than an unnecessary factor that had come up while he was performing his duty. As was Hugh, who was still among the missing.

“I thought you’d say that.”

Unable to think of anything else to add, the baron let his voice peter out.

A short while later, he remarked, “Come to think of it, the two girls would’ve been better off riding in my carriage. Why did you have them in with Miska?”

-

II

-

It was Zanus and Sai Fung that had made off with Miska’s carriage. While fleeing the danger zone and heading back toward Krauhausen, their curiosity ultimately got the better of them, and they were watching the wildfire when Miska’s carriage came along. Needless to say, the traveling blacksmith had also worked his magic on the lady’s vehicle. Had the men tried to test just how firm its defenses were, they wouldn’t have come away unscathed. But they were able to easily make off with it after hearing a voice from within the stationary carriage say, “You there—well, if it isn’t Sai Fung!”

Sitting cross-legged on the end of the steam engine, the man almost fell off from sheer surprise.

“That voice—Lady Miska?”

“Indeed, it is I, Miska. How have you been?”

“Er, as you can see, I’m fit as a fiddle,” he replied with a hasty thump to his chest.

Exiting the vehicle, Zanus looked up at him suspiciously and asked, “An acquaintance of yours?”

“Yeah. As you know, I used to be a mercenary, and before that I was actually a bodyguard in this place called Winslow. This is the granddaughter of the lord of that region, who took care of me back then. Imagine meeting out here like this!”

“I was aware that you’d relocated to this area. So, are you now a retainer to the lord of Krauhausen?”

“No, nothing of the sort,” Sai Fung replied, because he had an inkling of how Miska’s journey here had gone.

“Splendid. And just what are you doing out here?”

“Well, at present, my job is keeping an eye on the plains. Oh, this is my partner Zanus.”

“And do you swear you have no allegiance to the local lord?”

“On my oath.”

“Very well. Then, could you kindly tell me how to get to Fisher Lagoon’s establishment?”

“What?!” Sai Fung exclaimed, his eyes going wide.

Zanus followed suit.

“Lady Miska, that place is actually—well, are you certain you’re not somehow mistaken?”

“No, that’s the place. Grandfather left word that something of great importance to me had been entrusted to the owner of said establishment.”

“Your grandfather—excuse me, I mean the good duke—is he well?”

“He died. Betrayed by the villagers. And that’s what brings me to this region.”

“I see. But if you’re headed to Fisher Lagoon’s, Lady Miska, have you nowhere else to go?”

“No,” she replied flatly, her tone colored by an anxiety that was like a draft under the door.

“In that case, why don’t you come and visit the home of one of my acquaintances? Needless to say, he’s not a Noble, but someone extremely close in position to the Nobility.”

“And who is this person?”

“Er, a scientist by the name of Dr. Brosmen. He lives in a splendid mansion. Of course, it’s still the home of a lowly human, but if you can stomach that, it should prove rather pleasant.”

Miska’s voice fell silent. Her agitation was made manifest.

After a bit, she said, “Alas, my business is at Fisher Lagoon’s. That is where I must first go.”

Clucking disappointment on the inside, Sai Fung suggested, “Then I shall show you the way.”

“That won’t be necessary. I must wait here for my traveling companion.”

“Pardon my asking, but who might that be?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

That made Miska’s connection to the baron crystal clear. While they were aware that a second carriage accompanied Byron Balazs’s, they hadn’t known the identity of its occupant.

“But look at the flames. Are you sure they’ll make it through?”

“Without fail.”

Silent up until now, Zanus interrupted at this point, saying, “And you then intend to enter Krauhausen with him?”

Miska fell silent. Although she had no direct connection to the matter, Byron and his escort definitely had hostile intentions toward Vlad Balazs, and entering the latter’s domain in their company would be too risky.

As if he could see into her troubled psyche, Zanus said, “As I recall, the proprietor of Fisher Lagoon’s is one ‘Taboo’ Horton. He and I go way back.”

Used by confidence men in the Capital who preyed on girls fresh off the Frontier, the trick was as old as time, and Zanus himself seemed somewhat doubtful of whether or not it would work.

“Ah, that’s a different matter, then,” Miska said with delight.

In every society there were innocent hothouse flowers that would wilt with the first cold wind—and apparently even the Nobility were no exception.

“Arrange a meeting with him for me right away. Can you do that?”

“As you wish. However, at the moment he’s off in the eastern part of the Frontier on business, though he’s scheduled to be back within a day or two. Until then, perhaps it would be wisest to stay with Dr. Brosmen.”

“Indeed. Let’s do that, then,” Miska said, assenting with the greatest of ease.

No sooner had she entered the village of Krauhausen than all the strain of the battle up until now began to work against her. Though she was somewhat forlorn, the real reason she was taken in so quickly by the pair’s honeyed words was because she’d led the life of a princess. Normally having nothing but scorn for humanity, the Nobility didn’t believe they could be deceived by their inferiors, and thus were prone to being caught off guard. This was the fundamental reason why the humans had been able to rise en masse against them. And that was how Miska came to be separated from the baron. But there may have also been another reason, known only to her.

-

It was dusk when the white carriage arrived at Dr. Brosmen’s mansion—or just a little before. Claiming that the plains were dangerous, the pair urged her to make the trip at top speed. But in their hearts, they were motivated by the thought that the baron and D might make it through the flames. When the white carriage halted and its door opened, it wasn’t surprising that the two men gasped in astonishment. The pale beauty who stepped down was followed by a timid yet unmistakably human pair, and girls at that. They finally realized the other reason Miska had agreed to accompany them.

“Do what you will with those two. It’s been a long journey.”

And saying this, Miska entrusted the pair to Zanus before she began to leave with Sai Fung.

“As soon as I have any word on Taboo, I’ll get in touch with you, perhaps even as early as tonight,” Zanus called out to her.

After going through a number of gates, they were passing through the garden when Sai Fung asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Miska replied in a slightly irritated fashion.

“Then forget I asked. I just thought that perhaps you might still be concerned about those two girls.”

“Don’t be absurd. Why would I care?”

“First of all, it’s rather unexpected to have a human come out of a Noble’s carriage. Even more so when it’s members of the fair sex coming from a Noblewoman’s vehicle. Lady Miska, I can’t help wondering if perhaps you’ve grown fond of those girls.”

“Sai Fung, spewing any more of that nonsense will be—unpardonable!”

“Yes, milady. Begging your forgiveness,” the man known as “Sai Fung of the Thousand Limbs” said, tensing as if from a jolt of electricity. That was the effect the Nobility had.

“I was thinking that you might be a liar. Look. This garden is positively a shambles. And that tower up ahead of us is even worse. It’s like the lair where some sorcerer leers down at the world below. You’re not trying to mislead me, are you?”

“No—not on your life!” Sai Fung said, swinging a long hand in front of himself dismissively.

Actually, the garden of this mansion he’d said even a Noble would find passable was truly desolate. Long ago, it must’ve been impressive in scale and elegance, but the shrubbery had died off, and the marble paths and fountains were so sadly blanketed in dead and rotting leaves you could make out the layer of humus. What’s more, there was an unpleasant miasma flowing from God-only-knew-where and the smell of chemicals, both of which assailed Miska’s far superior olfactory sense and repeatedly left her on the brink of gagging. This was clearly a place of egregious death and decay. And the symbol of that was the tower that menaced the heavens—the same structure that’d just stopped Miska in her tracks. No, having seen the gigantic tree that the Dark Water Forces had used as their base, the scale of it wasn’t amazing, but the general lack of glass windows and the antennae jutting out in all directions like countless horns—along with fragments dangling from them that could’ve been either cords or netting—all oozed a ghastly aura that was not to be rivaled. There was something here beyond imagining.

But seeing that even Miska, a Noble with that species’ typical paucity of fear, was ready to freeze in her tracks, Sai Fung grinned in his heart of hearts. Both he and Zanus were de Carriole’s personal soldiers. The only reason they’d become known as servants of Vlad Balazs was because de Carriole had loaned them to Vlad. And they had led Miska not to Vlad’s castle but here because their first duty was to their true master. Using this woman, perhaps he might be able to do something about Byron Balazs. Lord Vlad would then come to hold de Carriole in even greater esteem, and as his servitors, the two of them would also rise in stature.

“Although this may be an overwhelming place, I assure you the master knows how to treat Nobility. Please, step this way.”

Sai Fung put his hand to the massive front doors. True to form, the squeal of the hinges rang out like an agonized shriek, and once the doors were open, the pair was blasted by air that carried an eerie tinge. Though it was heavy with the smell of chemicals, the atmosphere wasn’t completely intolerable.

As they stood there swathed in a murky light, an old man in a gown appeared from nowhere in particular with a candlestick in hand. His upper body was so hunched over it hung parallel to the floor. The eyes set in his mummylike face were shut so tight it seemed like he didn’t need the candlestick at all, but once he’d stopped a few steps shy of Miska, those same eyes snapped open and emitted a weird light.

“This is our master—”

“De Carriole is the name.”

His voice, like a snarling cold wind blowing out of the netherworld, made Miska forget that his name wasn’t the same one Sai Fung had told her, so it wasn’t until a few seconds later that anger suffused her countenance.

“That’s not the name I was given. You’ve tricked me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That was merely a bit of forethought to relieve your tension, madam,” Dr. de Carriole said in a vapid, murky tone.

Though Miska wasn’t familiar with the name de Carriole, Sai Fung and Zanus thought that since she’d been with Byron awhile, she might know about him. Anyone who knew his father Vlad knew that de Carriole was the feudal lord’s confidant—an extension of him, so to speak. The mere mention of his name would’ve undoubtedly kept Miska from accompanying them. However, from Miska’s reaction as she stood before that freakish old scientist, Sai Fung realized that his deception ultimately proved unnecessary.

“What are you?” Miska inquired.

“One who serves Vlad Balazs.”

“What?!” she exclaimed, turning to Sai Fung and glaring at him with a red gleam in her eyes. Her eyebrows and lips rose instantly. The pair of fangs that poked from her mouth left the woman’s Noble and vampiric nature on display.

“Cease this,” the old man said in a low voice.

Turning back to him, Miska peered into his eyes. The Noble red glow in her eyes swiftly faded. Holding her gaze as she swayed unsteadily, Miska then bent her knees a bit and prepared to pounce on the old man. But something delivered a short, firm tap to her shoulder. The old man’s cane. That alone left Miska immobilized, as if she’d been turned to stone.

Swiftly pulling his cane back, de Carriole then jabbed it into the woman a little to the right and above the ample swell of her left breast.

Sai Fung gasped aloud. The cane had gone right through the pale beauty’s chest and poked out through her back without the slightest resistance.

Miska didn’t move at all. All emotion and vitality were gone from her face.

“Which of the two has become insubstantial, the young lady or my cane?” de Carriole muttered in a disturbing tone. “So nice of you to sell out the granddaughter of someone to whom you were once so indebted.”

His words of praise could’ve also been taken as a dire condemnation. It was unclear what the old man made of Sai Fung worrying his lip as he looked down at the floor. But employer or not, it was strange that the fighting man didn’t show the slightest hint of anger at that remark.

“As for the young lady—since she was traveling with Lord Byron, she should certainly be brought to Lord Vlad. However, before we do that,” the old man said, peering into the paralyzed beauty of her face, “there’s something that intrigues me. This face also holds the face of something else that lurks within her. However, exactly what that is—”

And then, the old man turned to Sai Fung and said in a tone that made the man swallow hard, “I thought that to find out what that other thing is, we might pit it against you—how about it?”

-

“Fisher Lagoon’s” was a towering mansion at the western extreme of the village of Krauhausen. In terms of scale, it was a far cry from the castle Vlad Balazs kept in the center of town, but on the other hand, it was every bit as opulent. Every night, richly colored lamps lit more than a hundred windows, while everything from the strains of classic instruments like the violin, harp, cello, and oboe to electronic music patterned after that of the Nobility flowed serenely from the structure. No expense had been spared in procuring the finest furnishing, food, and drink from the Capital—to say nothing of the supple women. The village of Krauhausen maintained the greatest stock of “resources” in the region, and it was for this reason that it had a constant stream of visitors, not only from neighboring villages, but from far across the Frontier as well. Actually, the entire mansion was a huge entertainment center—an enormous pleasure palace.

In one room of the building filled with coquettish female tones and reeling with the aromas of alcohol, perfume, and expensive cigars, Taki and May sat across a great black table from a giant of a man with only one eye. This was the man who’d lent his name to the establishment—one Fisher Lagoon.

Behind the two girls, Zanus leaned back against a section of wall by the door and kept a frosty gaze trained on all three. Before they’d been seated here, he’d told the two girls, “The owner of this place is quite prominent. And he has a deep sense of morality on top of that. If you explain your circumstances to him, I’m certain he’ll sympathize and agree to help you.”

And now, as the giant scrutinized them thoroughly, his good right eye gleamed with apparent lechery as he declared, “Good enough. Fifty thousand for the older one, and thirty for the other.”

It was “the other”—May—that suddenly stood up. Whipping around to face Zanus by the door, she jabbed a finger in the giant’s direction and said, “You tricked us! He’s nothing but a slave trader!”

Shrugging, Zanus replied, “Well, there’s not much we can do about that. Just tell yourself it’s better than winding up with that Noblewoman.”

The second Zanus smirked, May’s face flipped right in front of his eyes, both of her feet slamming right into the bridge of his nose before she used that as a springboard to fly at Lagoon’s face.

At the same time the girl was being plucked out of midair, Zanus gave a shake to his head, a stream of blood trailing from his nose.

“What are you doing?! Let go of me!” May shouted.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Stop it!” Taki exclaimed as she fought to restrain the girl’s wildly thrashing hands and feet.

What was it she feared?

On the far side of the big desk sat Fisher Lagoon’s massive form, the giant looking on with clear amusement but not moving a muscle. It was only when Zanus took both girls by the scruff of the neck and dragged them back to their chairs that any emotion stirred in the giant’s face, which had the same dark sheen as worn leather.

“Knock it off,” he said in a voice that somehow called to mind the growl of a carnivore.

“These little bitches are out of line,” Zanus said, putting his hands on the shoulders of both. His fingers didn’t exactly sink into them, but neither May nor Taki could move in the least. “Mister Lagoon, let’s forget the whole deal. The only thing that’s gonna satisfy me now is to hang the two of them from Madison Bridge.”

“Sorry, but since we’ve already set the price, they’re my property now. Get your hands off them. Now, take this and go, will you?”

A thin gold bar was placed on the table.

“No, save it. I wanna make these bitches listen to their own necks snapping.”

“Zanus,” the giant said, his eye vested with a terrible gleam.

But Zanus didn’t respond at all. “You ready to see your whole place wrecked on account of these two?” he asked in a soft tone.

Smiling thinly, the giant remarked, “Vlad would be heartbroken, I’m sure. Over the loss of such a good subordinate, that is.”

“Fine,” Zanus replied, letting his white teeth show. “Show me a little more sincerity, then.”

The giant’s hand slid across the tabletop, and three more bars of gold appeared.

“Thank you. That’s what I’d expect from the owner of a place like this. You really know your way around. Well, they’re all yours, then.”

Taking his hands off the girls’ shoulders and collecting his bars of gold, Zanus then departed in high spirits.

Now left alone with the giant—Fisher Lagoon—Taki and May remained frozen in their seats. Ordinarily, the act of taking the two of them from Zanus should have lent him some humanity or perhaps earned him some gratitude, but as he sat there before them, the intensity that radiated from him in some ways surpassed that of Zanus.

“We were tricked, you know. Let us go,” Taki said.

Without changing his expression in the least, he declared gravely, “I paid more for you two than I intended. And you’ll have to work it off. We get all kinds of folks here. Out of them all, we’ll give you the kind of clients new girls have the hardest time with to get you used to the work.”

Running his eyes over the list of names on a screen set in his desk, he said, “Tonight, it’ll be—oh, is that Mister ‘Porky’ I see? And then there’s—”

Here his breath escaped him. On their first day, the two “new girls” got to see something rarely witnessed by anyone: a look of fear on Fisher Lagoon.

-

III

-

When D and the baron arrived, the village was dissolving into the twilight. However, it was bright. Blindingly so. Along the streets, torches and atomic lamps glowed warmly, while tables and chairs were set out haphazardly where the people could while away their time with steins of beer and monster chess and pleasant conversation. Though the yard of each and every house had its gate closed, light still spilled from the windows, while at bars, restaurants, and even the general store—anyplace one might get a drink—every door remained open, ready to welcome all guests. The sad strains of a gypsy violin rang in the baron’s ears as he sat in the driver’s seat, while fireworks tossed by children exploded in a rainbow of colors around the feet of the mounted D. When the baron and D were spotted, it came as little surprise that folks’ expressions changed and the street musicians halted their performance, but once they’d passed, they left no wake at all as the same jovial atmosphere returned.

“Strange place, isn’t it?” the baron said to the Hunter. “On all the vast Frontier, this is the only place where villagers enjoy such a vibrant nightlife while their feudal lord remains in power. It’s been this way ever since I left.”

“When was that?” asked D.

“There is no sense in our kind speaking of time,” the baron replied, but after saying this, he smiled wryly. “Pardon me. I can’t help but keep thinking of you as a Noble.”

“That’s a laugh!”

Narrowing his gaze, the baron asked, “Did you say something?”

D tightened his grip on the reins with his left hand and replied, “No.”

Getting the feeling he’d heard a tiny cry of pain, the baron strained his ears, but he heard nothing further.

“Should you happen to be concerned about the two girls, there’s a hotel called the Rivers Inn if you turn right at the fourth intersection. Take a room there. I’ll give you more information as it becomes available.”

This meant that their journey would end at that point.

In less than two minutes they arrived. It was just an ordinary intersection.

“I’m in your debt,” the baron said, handing D a heavy sack. “There’s what we agreed upon. See you.”

D said nothing, but halted his horse, as if watching his employer’s back to the very end. The dark carriage passed by without a sound. After watching it melt into the darkness at the end of the road, D turned right at the street corner.

The Rivers Inn was about ten minutes away. Many inns in Frontier villages were humble affairs, but as the communities grew larger, they were often divided into separate lodgings for merchants and general travelers. But the Rivers Inn was neither. To put it bluntly, it was for millionaires. The first floor boasted a restaurant, bar, and casino, while the parking lot was filled with the very latest gasoline-powered cars and steam-driven vehicles, all polished and gleaming in the moonlight. The standard carriages were all drawn by at least a half-dozen horses and were lavish, adorned with gold and other precious metals.

Winding the reins of his horse around a hitching post that seemed to have seen no use at all, D then stepped into the foyer. The singing voices that soared to the accompaniment of the piano and violin dropped like dominoes as D moved toward the front desk. Even the bodyguards who kept a razor-sharp eye on the patrons in the hall and lounge couldn’t move in the least, as if they’d been struck dead. A grim reaper in black had intruded on this world of multicolored splendor—but what a gorgeous reaper he was. Although the people had been turned to statues in part by the ghastly aura that surrounded D, they were also lost in his handsome features.

Tell anyone without the finest carriage and clothing that we’re full—those were the orders the man at the front desk had been given, but the second he saw D step through the door, he forgot all about the fearsome manager’s mandate.

“Do you have a room?”

“Indeed we do. The very best suite. However, I hardly think it would be up to your standards, sir.”

“A single will be fine. Kindly give my horse some synthesized protein later.”

“Yes, sir. And the payment for your stay will be—unnecessary.”

As D stared at him, the clerk at the front desk returned to his senses and told the Hunter the correct charge. Paying for three days for the time being, D took the key and was headed over to the stairs when a coquettish voice and porcine laughter spilled from the bar off to the left.

“Mr. Balcon, you can’t be so cruel to a girl who just got here today,” said one of the women in a tickle of a voice as she writhed in a virulent tangle of bodies.

“Do I look like that sort of reprobate?” replied a corpulent man who looked to easily weigh four hundred fifty pounds.

While the arms of the women were wrapped around his neck and torso, their eyes feverishly embraced the tall figure behind him—a young man dressed in a black suit. Neither his face nor his build resembled that of Balcon. From the way he carried himself and the look in his eyes, he had to be a bodyguard.

“I’m only going to engage in some gentle conversation. Unlike those other dirty old men, I’m not out to take a ‘peek and a poke’ at the private areas of some young virgin. You see? My interest, in fact, is purely in staying up all night talking,” he bellowed, an explosion of vulgar laughter filling the hall before flowing out toward the entrance.

-

When he arrived at Fisher Lagoon’s in a carriage drawn by six galloping horses, Balcon was promptly surrounded in the front hall by the women who accompanied the madam. Though he had the poorest imaginable excuse for a chest, a chin that disappeared into five or six rolls of fat, and a belly that sagged like a sow’s ass, the hands that reached for the bulge in his pants were prompted in part by a professional approach to customer satisfaction, but the proof that the act was mostly motivated out of very real interest was the way every last woman had her eyes rolled back in her head and drool spilling from the corner of her mouth as she moaned incessantly.

This was the result of the sexual stimulants mixed into their daily meals and aphrodisiacs in the incense that even now filled the air. The longer they stayed, the worse it became, and in fact, spending a mere week in this house would make these women slaves to the endless swell of carnal cravings that came from within, smothering the will to escape and leaving them animalistic bitches in heat who did as their master and his clients commanded and pleasured them in any way they desired. And although there were naturally many clients who sought that sort of woman, the calls were even louder for virgins pure as the driven snow. As a result, “scouts” of sorts set off for neighboring towns and villages and even went all the way to the Capital to find fresh girls to meet Fisher Lagoon’s endless demand.

“You have the girl from the earlier communiqué, I take it?” Balcon asked the foxlike madam.

“But of course, Mr. Balcon. Have we ever said we had a girl and not delivered? She’s up in the penthouse suite, sure enough, just awaiting your arrival, Mr. Balcon. Although the girl did arrive just today, so she may be somewhat impertinent. Please try to keep that in mind. And another thing—” the madam said, lowering her voice to add, “though we don’t mind a few broken arms and legs, you mustn’t kill her.”

“I know, I know. That last one—Giselle was it?—I was drunk then. But as you can see, I’m practically sober today,” he said as he coughed a cloud of seemingly inflammable breath on the madam.

Stopping and looking all around, Balcon said, “By the by, is that old dog Lagoon not going to come out to greet me today either? Five years I’ve been coming here, and in all that time, I can’t remember the owner showing his face even once. Don’t you think that’s a bit rude of him?”

“Begging your pardon. You see, the boss’s motto is that no matter how pretty our girls are, folks would lose their taste for taking their pleasure if they were to see his face. But that’s fine, isn’t it? After all, a greeting from the boss wouldn’t change the thrill from the girls in the least.”

As the crafty old woman stated her case plainly and stared at Balcon in an unpleasant manner, something seemed to suddenly occur to the rotund man.

“Well, there are places like this in even the smallest villages, but it really seems strange that you could build a bawdy house this big and showy right in plain sight of a Noble’s castle and make so much hoopla without ever bringing down their wrath. Though they fulfill their own desires by drinking blood, the Nobility have a thing about stamping out the human pursuit of pleasure. Why, there have even been establishments that drew just a little attention to themselves, and as a result not only the patrons and staff, but also the proprietor and his family were all slaughtered. Most peculiar. I can’t get over this. What’s more—” Now it was his turn to lower his voice as he said, “I’ve heard rumors. They say the owner of Fisher Lagoon’s is actually the bastard son of a Noble. And an unbelievably high-ranking one at that—”

No sooner had he said that than the madam’s expression paled.

“What are you trying to say? The boss is a genuine, full-fledged human, mister. A Noble’s child would be Nobility. And didn’t you yourself just state one of them would have nothing to do with running a house like this? And a Noble’s child that wasn’t Nobility would be a dhampir. Even that would be half Noble. They’d be bowled over by spending too long out in the sun long before you or I would, but they could lose an arm without it being any major concern. I swear to you, the boss is human. I’ve seen him out in the sun buck naked, and when he got stabbed in an argument with a testy customer, he needed major surgery. Although I’m the only one he shows it to, from time to time he lets me see that he’s still got the scar from it on his belly. And knowing all that, Mr. Balcon, do you still insist on seeing smoke where there’s no fire?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Balcon said as he turned away in a snit, his fears allayed by the madam’s harangue.

And yet, the madam grinned from ear to ear. That was part of her job consciousness, and she realized they couldn’t afford to allow such a valued patron to grow any more sullen. She was a true professional. A young man in black stepped smoothly to the fore and said, “That will do.”

His voice was sweet, but had a great power to it. The girls around Balcon writhed at the sound of it, with one of them even kneading her ample breasts.

“I’m heading up to the penthouse. You come with me,” Balcon said to his dashing bodyguard as he swung his great belly around, adding for good measure, “The other guy can watch the carriage. You think he’ll be okay?”

“He’ll keep a good eye on it. That’s about all he can do in the shape he’s in.”

“Come to mention it, he sure is a confident, creepy customer. Maybe we’d have been better off not bothering with him.”

The nondescript elevator arrived then, and only the madam and the two men got into it.

Just as it went into motion, the madam recalled what they’d been discussing.

“Who is this creepy character you’re talking about?”

“This guy we picked up in Shabara Canyon on the way here. He’s missing one arm and so covered with bruises we thought he was a goner, but somehow he’s still alive. What’s more, he asked us to take him to the village of Krauhausen, and said that in return he’d act as a bodyguard. There’s folks out there that really take the cake. Well, he was so dead set on this, I figured we’d take him along and score some positive karma. But to tell the truth, I have to wonder if he’ll live to see tomorrow.”

“Have you taken him to see a doctor?”

“Rubbish! What sense would there be in taking someone who can’t be saved to the doctor? Now that would be a true waste of good money.”

While Balcon was speaking, the elevator halted and the group stepped out onto a roof where the moonlight danced with the night breeze. Some sixty feet away, the shape of a building could be discerned, with windows lit by lascivious red lamps. The rooftop was bordered on either side by the darkened forms of enormous trees. Yet each of them was more than three hundred feet away, so there was no fear of penniless perverts trying to use them to get a free peek at the action.

“Here’s the key, sir. I’ll be going now.”

Both the madam’s words and the sound of the descending elevator faded, and as Balcon started down the torch-lit pathway, his eyes were already shamefully bloodshot and his breathing ragged while his tongue hung out. As a matter of fact, he’d even forgotten all about the bodyguard following along behind him. However, and perhaps this was to be expected for someone of his sort, there was one tiny point of risk management of which he remained aware: the sound of his bodyguard’s footsteps. As long as they continued to trail after him, he would be safe.

At first glance, the man simply looked like a tall lady-killer, but in the “Capital of the West” he was counted among the five best warriors. His specialty was the throwing knives that he had concealed within his suit coat. Balcon himself had seen the man drop five flame beasts charging at a hundred twenty miles per hour in a second.

In the time it took him to reach the door and use the key to open it, there was no change at all to the sound of his bodyguard’s steps.

The room he entered was a small but lavish living room, and next to it was the bedroom. As Balcon surveyed the bizarre implements of torture laid out in the living room, his face seemed to melt in rapture. For what he excelled at was tormenting tender young girls with the cruelest of devices. Seeing the girl tied spread-eagled on the bed in a bedroom without curtains or screens, he was positive that tonight would indeed be pleasurable. With her limbs lashed to the four bedposts by cords, the girl apparently hadn’t been drugged at all, and as she noticed Balcon approaching, she struggled madly. It went without saying that nothing could excite a man like him more than that. A black whip in one hand and an electric cattle prod in the other, he stood at the foot of the bed and focused a gaze that could no longer even be described as human on the crotch protected only by the girl’s thin pair of panties.

“There’s a good girl, missy. Uncle Balcon’s going to have fun with you all night long.”

And saying this, he held the cattle prod up so the gagged girl could see him switch it on. Blue lightning danced across the tip of it, making the girl’s eyes go wide in terror. And that was everything he desired in a woman.

“We’ll start out with the light stuff. This prod. Come now, there’s nothing to be afraid of. All I’m going to do is singe your privates a little, okay?”

But even as he started to bring the cattle prod down between her thighs, the girl didn’t move a muscle. Her eyes were staring right at Balcon—no, over his shoulder, and on realizing this, he also noticed that the young girl’s gaze didn’t contain the merest hint of fear.

As he was about to turn, the man felt an icy steel grip close on the scruff of his neck and the wrist of the hand that held the cattle prod, freezing the portly Mr. Balcon solid. Slowly craning his neck around, he looked over his shoulder and managed to see a dark figure—a handsome young man in black. However, this beauty was neither that of Balcon’s familiar bodyguard, nor that of anything of this world.

Beneath her gag, the girl shouted something. Although the cloth stuffed in her mouth prevented any words from escaping, she’d exclaimed, “D!”