chapter 4: screams
"She's here!"
Elira walked into the Iron Door with a grin, thinking about the strange women outside. She had nothing against the men having their fun, really, but both of those females had looked like they'd scream. Nothing ruined a good night so much as screams. How humans could stand that noise was beyond her, since her Myr'l ears picked up frequencies a human could never notice.
She shook her head good-naturedly at Talis as he held open the large iron door for her. The namesake of the tavern, Elira had quickly discovered, was heavier than she was and couldn't be moved by anything but a show of brute strength. After her first attempts at pushing the massive chunk of metal, which Steele's men still laughed about, she had bowed to the necessity of having one of them open the door for her. Unfortunately, they had also taken to announcing her presence like that of a queen, but at least that was the only embarrassment she suffered.
From seats in a dark corner of the room, Calhan suddenly pulled back from Devon and tried in vain to see past the mob of mercenaries who had moved toward the door.
In lowered tones, Devon said, "Who's here? Can you see?" She was relieved, but a little disappointed to stop their conversation. Her mind didn't want to wrap itself around what he had suggested, so she instead tried to focus on the throng of mercenaries.
Calhan shook his head, as much trying to get his mind back to the business at hand as answering her questions. "Those men are in the way." He looked nervous. Devon was surprised to see the Rogue's knuckles whitening as he gripped his mug and took a sip. "Try to act normal." He suggested, though his own hands were close to shaking.
Devon frowned slightly at her friend. He had lost the relaxed tones that he usually spoke with, and was staring fiercely into his drink. She felt a pang of guilt at forcing him to come here for dinner. Devon did want to follow up the lead on who had been killing Rogues, but she hadn't know for sure that Calhan had been there when Neal and Tom were so brutally murdered. She made up her mind to come back here later. "Come on, we can go somewhere el-"
Elira pushed through the mob of mercenaries, emerging and dropping herself into one of the wooden chairs at the table next to their booth. Devon's eyes widened, and paused mid-sentence as she watched the Myr'l fighter signal to the bar with one clawed hand. Elira was striking at any time, and even more so to someone who had never seen a Myr'l. She flashed a sharp toothed grin at barman, who thumped drinks down on the table, and tossed him a pouch of coins. "Keep us going for the night!" She called out in a deep voice that seemed at odds with her small stature.
Devon struggled to take in what she saw. This was not a human. Elira's ears twitched as Calhan dropped his mug, then fumbled to keep it from spilling on him. Her tail wrapped its tip around the wooden leg of her chair. She turned to her companions, who cheered her for paying for drinks, and her eyes glinted in a way no human's should.
Calhan noticed only one thing. The purse that had been thrown was Neal's.
"Murderer!" His voice was an angry rasp, and he hardly felt himself stand. Taking no notice of Devon's shocked expression, he pointed at Elira, standing close enough that his finger was mere inches from her face. Devon's mind was spinning as she stared openly at the cat-woman. She had heard stories - myths, she had thought - of crossbreeds. Humans twisted in a way no healer could help, living as animals in far off lands. A gruesome tattoo seemed to bleed from the fighter's face, and it was all Devon could do not to reach out and try to heal it.
There was a sudden silence.
Then a quiet rumbling started. Devon looked around for the source, before realizing it came from the woman - thing - that Calhan pointed at. Elira broke into a wide grin, shoulders shaking with almost silent laughter. Next to her, one mercenaries joined her. Then another. A blush crept up Calhan's face as the entire bar collapsed into helpless bouts of laughter.
"Boy, every person here is a murderer! It's what we're paid for." Talis, the first man who had started laughing, pushed Calhan's hand down and away from Elira. Calhan, surprised and confused, sat down heavily.
Elira smiled at him, tilting her head in curiousity. "You're the one that was protecting those fools a couple nights back, aren't you?" She pulled up a chair and straddled it, leaning on the table. The tavern went back to its normal level of noise, as the men sensed the conflict had calmed down. Talis, though, stood leaning against the wall next to Calhan.
The fire entered Calhan's eyes again, but Devon spoke first. "You've been killing men!" The accusation brought a snort from Talis.
Elira thought about it a moment, tapping the table with her extended claws and looking puzzled. "You're right, they have all been men. Do females not fight in this place, or are they just smarter than the males?" Talis choked on his ale and turned away from the table, red-faced and laughing. Devon and Calhan just stared at Elira with wide eyes.
"You can't just..." Calhan tried to think, but the rhythmic sound of her claws tapping on the wood caused him to trail off.
Talis leaned over the boy and grinned at him. "Cat got your tongue?" The mercenary was an imposing presence, and did nothing to help Calhan's speechlessness. A full head taller than Calhan, Talis was a typical mercenary. He carried a two-handed bastard sword, even in the confines of the tavern, and the hilt of the sword looked well worn. His clothing looked as if it had already been through a battle, though Calhan admitted to himself that many of the Rogues looked that way some days.
Elira sighed and put her head in her hands. "Don't you ever get tired of that? Don't you have anything else you could be doing right now? Like, say, going away?" Affection shone in her dark brown eyes as she looked at the large mercenary. When she joined Steele's men, Talis had been the first to accept what she was, and had done his best to teach her the human ways of doing things. He was as close to family as she had on this side of the water.
Talis huffed, "Well, I know when I'm not wanted." and proceeded to stay exactly where he was. Calhan blinked, looking back and forth between the two fighters, and then at Devon. She shrugged slightly, staring at the bantering pair. The confusion in her green eyes told Calhan that she was thinking the same thing he was. This was not how killers should act.
"Fine, fine, just ignore him." She rolled her eyes. "You're a pain in the ass some days, Talis." The hefty mercenary smiled at her, and relaxed against the wall.
"And you're a pain everywhere else, Elira m'girl." Devon could almost see the two of them, in her mind's eye, sticking out their tongues at each other like children. She shook herself from that revery, and focussed on the two people in front of her.
Calhan gathered his wits about him. "You've been killing people on the streets. Why?" His voice cracked at the end, jumping an octave. Devon winced. These were not the sort of people you could afford to make mistakes around. Talis offhandedly polished a dagger from his belt as Calhan spoke, and Elira seems intent on cleaning her claws, but somehow Devon was sure they were ready to jump on anything Calhan said.
"You should understand. You were there." Elira brushed back her hair, then settled back to leaning on the table. "They attacked me. If someone attacks you, don't you get rid of them?"
"No! Of cour-" Devon paused, taking in what Elira had said. She looked at Calhan. "Wait, they attacked her? Why?"
Calhan glared angrily at the woman sitting in front of him, but found himself confused by what his eyes told him. Elira looked up at him attentively, her oddly shaped eyes shining with interest at his response. On one hand, he knew she was a killer. He'd seen that. But, leaning on the table in front of him was also someone who honestly believed everything she said, with a complete confidence that was unnerving. As he thought about this, Elira broke in, "They wanted my money. Had I been carrying any, maybe it would have worked out better for them." She smiled again, "Rule two, don't attack someone who has nothing to lose."
Despite himself, Calhan asked, "What's rule one?"
"Don't attack an unknown. They failed that one, too." She smiled brightly, which only accented her alien features. "You see why they had to die, then." At the blank stares she received from Devon and Calhan, she continued, "They were weak." With no comprehension coming from the pair, she sighed impatiently. "Don't you humans understand anything? They should have known better than to challenge a superior. They were weak and overconfident. You species is better off if they're gone."
Talis shook his head at this lecture. "Elira, you tried to explain this to the rest of the boys, too. These two aren't going to understand it any better than they did. You're just going to have to accept that."
She snorted in disgust. "You humans are strange. Coddling the sick, letting the weak run away. It's no wonder you're-" A short high-pitched scream broke through the noise of the tavern. Elira was quickly on her feet, sword in hand and already moving toward the sound.
"Can't I have one quiet night?"
Elira walked into the Iron Door with a grin, thinking about the strange women outside. She had nothing against the men having their fun, really, but both of those females had looked like they'd scream. Nothing ruined a good night so much as screams. How humans could stand that noise was beyond her, since her Myr'l ears picked up frequencies a human could never notice.
She shook her head good-naturedly at Talis as he held open the large iron door for her. The namesake of the tavern, Elira had quickly discovered, was heavier than she was and couldn't be moved by anything but a show of brute strength. After her first attempts at pushing the massive chunk of metal, which Steele's men still laughed about, she had bowed to the necessity of having one of them open the door for her. Unfortunately, they had also taken to announcing her presence like that of a queen, but at least that was the only embarrassment she suffered.
From seats in a dark corner of the room, Calhan suddenly pulled back from Devon and tried in vain to see past the mob of mercenaries who had moved toward the door.
In lowered tones, Devon said, "Who's here? Can you see?" She was relieved, but a little disappointed to stop their conversation. Her mind didn't want to wrap itself around what he had suggested, so she instead tried to focus on the throng of mercenaries.
Calhan shook his head, as much trying to get his mind back to the business at hand as answering her questions. "Those men are in the way." He looked nervous. Devon was surprised to see the Rogue's knuckles whitening as he gripped his mug and took a sip. "Try to act normal." He suggested, though his own hands were close to shaking.
Devon frowned slightly at her friend. He had lost the relaxed tones that he usually spoke with, and was staring fiercely into his drink. She felt a pang of guilt at forcing him to come here for dinner. Devon did want to follow up the lead on who had been killing Rogues, but she hadn't know for sure that Calhan had been there when Neal and Tom were so brutally murdered. She made up her mind to come back here later. "Come on, we can go somewhere el-"
Elira pushed through the mob of mercenaries, emerging and dropping herself into one of the wooden chairs at the table next to their booth. Devon's eyes widened, and paused mid-sentence as she watched the Myr'l fighter signal to the bar with one clawed hand. Elira was striking at any time, and even more so to someone who had never seen a Myr'l. She flashed a sharp toothed grin at barman, who thumped drinks down on the table, and tossed him a pouch of coins. "Keep us going for the night!" She called out in a deep voice that seemed at odds with her small stature.
Devon struggled to take in what she saw. This was not a human. Elira's ears twitched as Calhan dropped his mug, then fumbled to keep it from spilling on him. Her tail wrapped its tip around the wooden leg of her chair. She turned to her companions, who cheered her for paying for drinks, and her eyes glinted in a way no human's should.
Calhan noticed only one thing. The purse that had been thrown was Neal's.
"Murderer!" His voice was an angry rasp, and he hardly felt himself stand. Taking no notice of Devon's shocked expression, he pointed at Elira, standing close enough that his finger was mere inches from her face. Devon's mind was spinning as she stared openly at the cat-woman. She had heard stories - myths, she had thought - of crossbreeds. Humans twisted in a way no healer could help, living as animals in far off lands. A gruesome tattoo seemed to bleed from the fighter's face, and it was all Devon could do not to reach out and try to heal it.
There was a sudden silence.
Then a quiet rumbling started. Devon looked around for the source, before realizing it came from the woman - thing - that Calhan pointed at. Elira broke into a wide grin, shoulders shaking with almost silent laughter. Next to her, one mercenaries joined her. Then another. A blush crept up Calhan's face as the entire bar collapsed into helpless bouts of laughter.
"Boy, every person here is a murderer! It's what we're paid for." Talis, the first man who had started laughing, pushed Calhan's hand down and away from Elira. Calhan, surprised and confused, sat down heavily.
Elira smiled at him, tilting her head in curiousity. "You're the one that was protecting those fools a couple nights back, aren't you?" She pulled up a chair and straddled it, leaning on the table. The tavern went back to its normal level of noise, as the men sensed the conflict had calmed down. Talis, though, stood leaning against the wall next to Calhan.
The fire entered Calhan's eyes again, but Devon spoke first. "You've been killing men!" The accusation brought a snort from Talis.
Elira thought about it a moment, tapping the table with her extended claws and looking puzzled. "You're right, they have all been men. Do females not fight in this place, or are they just smarter than the males?" Talis choked on his ale and turned away from the table, red-faced and laughing. Devon and Calhan just stared at Elira with wide eyes.
"You can't just..." Calhan tried to think, but the rhythmic sound of her claws tapping on the wood caused him to trail off.
Talis leaned over the boy and grinned at him. "Cat got your tongue?" The mercenary was an imposing presence, and did nothing to help Calhan's speechlessness. A full head taller than Calhan, Talis was a typical mercenary. He carried a two-handed bastard sword, even in the confines of the tavern, and the hilt of the sword looked well worn. His clothing looked as if it had already been through a battle, though Calhan admitted to himself that many of the Rogues looked that way some days.
Elira sighed and put her head in her hands. "Don't you ever get tired of that? Don't you have anything else you could be doing right now? Like, say, going away?" Affection shone in her dark brown eyes as she looked at the large mercenary. When she joined Steele's men, Talis had been the first to accept what she was, and had done his best to teach her the human ways of doing things. He was as close to family as she had on this side of the water.
Talis huffed, "Well, I know when I'm not wanted." and proceeded to stay exactly where he was. Calhan blinked, looking back and forth between the two fighters, and then at Devon. She shrugged slightly, staring at the bantering pair. The confusion in her green eyes told Calhan that she was thinking the same thing he was. This was not how killers should act.
"Fine, fine, just ignore him." She rolled her eyes. "You're a pain in the ass some days, Talis." The hefty mercenary smiled at her, and relaxed against the wall.
"And you're a pain everywhere else, Elira m'girl." Devon could almost see the two of them, in her mind's eye, sticking out their tongues at each other like children. She shook herself from that revery, and focussed on the two people in front of her.
Calhan gathered his wits about him. "You've been killing people on the streets. Why?" His voice cracked at the end, jumping an octave. Devon winced. These were not the sort of people you could afford to make mistakes around. Talis offhandedly polished a dagger from his belt as Calhan spoke, and Elira seems intent on cleaning her claws, but somehow Devon was sure they were ready to jump on anything Calhan said.
"You should understand. You were there." Elira brushed back her hair, then settled back to leaning on the table. "They attacked me. If someone attacks you, don't you get rid of them?"
"No! Of cour-" Devon paused, taking in what Elira had said. She looked at Calhan. "Wait, they attacked her? Why?"
Calhan glared angrily at the woman sitting in front of him, but found himself confused by what his eyes told him. Elira looked up at him attentively, her oddly shaped eyes shining with interest at his response. On one hand, he knew she was a killer. He'd seen that. But, leaning on the table in front of him was also someone who honestly believed everything she said, with a complete confidence that was unnerving. As he thought about this, Elira broke in, "They wanted my money. Had I been carrying any, maybe it would have worked out better for them." She smiled again, "Rule two, don't attack someone who has nothing to lose."
Despite himself, Calhan asked, "What's rule one?"
"Don't attack an unknown. They failed that one, too." She smiled brightly, which only accented her alien features. "You see why they had to die, then." At the blank stares she received from Devon and Calhan, she continued, "They were weak." With no comprehension coming from the pair, she sighed impatiently. "Don't you humans understand anything? They should have known better than to challenge a superior. They were weak and overconfident. You species is better off if they're gone."
Talis shook his head at this lecture. "Elira, you tried to explain this to the rest of the boys, too. These two aren't going to understand it any better than they did. You're just going to have to accept that."
She snorted in disgust. "You humans are strange. Coddling the sick, letting the weak run away. It's no wonder you're-" A short high-pitched scream broke through the noise of the tavern. Elira was quickly on her feet, sword in hand and already moving toward the sound.
"Can't I have one quiet night?"