Crimson Ring Chapter 3

As Raven ascended the stairs, the sense of unease that had settled in the back of Raven’s mind ever since Torgos intercepted his contract back in Kulthene settled a little deeper into his gut. There had never been officers of the peace anywhere near any of Carrion’s operations. It came too close to blurring very dangerous lines. 

And then there was this new caretaker who had greeted him. What had happened to the longtime Master Fahrad? The position, by nature, was one of trust. While Raven was almost certain Carrion had divulged no details about the Bloody Murder, given enough time, the caretaker would no doubt see and hear enough to make some pretty strong guesses about the faction.

Reaching the top floor, the caretaker turned and made his way back down toward the first floor, the section of the building reserved for the staff. Raven noted the fact he hadn’t introduced himself, nor had he offered him any refreshment. Such a flagrant breach of etiquette could only come from Carrion himself, no doubt leaving specific instructions to that effect.

Speculating on the reason for such precautions mattered little, considering he was about to find out what all this was about anyway. He walked right through the single metal door, unlocked only because Carrion expected the company, and into a large hall filled with a grand ebony table large enough to accommodate two dozen comfortably. Porcelain plates, silver utensils, and crystal goblets sat before each high-backed seat, as if ready to host a grand feast. And around the room, set in irregular intervals, sat plush cushions beside small, private tables. 

The hall was beautiful, but empty, as always. It was a room purely for show, a front to maintain appearances. 

Raven slid the bolt closed behind him, then swept through the spacious hall to the opposite wall on the far side. He removed the leather glove from one hand and withdrew a vial of clear liquid from a sleeve on his belt—his alchemical activator. He pulled the cork free between his teeth and placed a few drops of the liquid on the flat of his palm, then pressed his hand to the smooth surface of the wall and waited. 

Nothing happened for a long moment, but then the surface beneath his hand grew warm, then hot, and then the slab of granite beneath his palm glowed a pale yellow. The ephemeral light spread and took the form of a perfect rectangle on the wall, just a hair lower than his considerable height. 

The alchemical glow went dark, and then Raven pushed. The rectangle section of wall moved inward, as if it weighed nothing, then locked into place with an audible clank that reverberated along the full length of the wall. It was a space large enough for him to squeeze through, where another stairwell awaited him, this one dark and near vertical.

This stairwell entered directly into the center of a small room, this one devoid of all furnishings. This was the top floor, not even visible from the street level below. 

A single door just off to his left led to a short terrace. In the light of the cloudless moon, Raven saw a shadowed figure waiting, staring out into the city below. Raven went and joined the figure, standing shoulder to shoulder and gazing out at the sprawling city that looked as if it glittered with the countless alchemical globes throughout the city.

“Raven. You have arrived. Good.” Carrion nodded. “Very good.”

“You’re alone.”

A soft chuckle came from Carrion. “I am.”

“Where is she?”

“Coragyps is back at the Roost. She has an important task.” He sighed. “It is a time for important tasks.”

In all the years Raven had known Carrion, been in the man’s presence, he’d never once seen him so far apart from his High Alchemist. But the lack of Coragyps’ presence was just one of many things that jumped out as immediately unsettling after seeing the man.

Raven studied Carrion, the heavy creases lining the features of the old man’s face. Carrion’s once rich brown skin had turned ashen. And his normally neatly trimmed white hair had grown out in a wild, kinky tangle of a fro that connected to an equally unruly white mess of a beard. Never had Raven seen the normally dapper Carrion in such disarray.

Finally, after taking in the whole of Carrion’s appearance, Raven met his red-rimmed eyes. What Raven saw in that gaze—a defiant mix of cunning, tenacity, and threat—was every bit as disconcerting as ever. The old man’s eyes had, despite everything that sent Raven’s senses reeling, calmed him. Yes, Carrion looked haggard, but he would weather the shifting sands and come out better and stronger, as always. Raven was certain of that. 

Raven cleared his throat. “This last assignment that sent me into Kulthene, it was to be my final contract. We had agreed. You gave your word.”

Carrion released a heavy sigh. “Truth. One last contract.” He shifted on his feet. “I had every intention of honoring that agreement.”

Raven’s expression darkened.

Carrion lifted a weathered finger to forestall a response. “And I still plan to honor that arrangement. One last mission. Only, the situation has changed. The three warlock-priests were high affinity threats, to be sure, but they were targets easy enough for you to handle with minimal threat. I’m sure you would agree.”

Raven nodded. “I’ve dealt with worse. Far worse.”

Carrion sighed. “So you see, that was to be my gift to you, Raven—a contract not so easy as to insult a man of your talents, but an assignment I knew you would fly through…no pun intended. I had considered the contract a retirement gift for you, even if I had hoped—still hope—that you remain in my service.”

“Ten years of murdering the nastiest mages on our list is long enough.”

Carrion nodded. “Right, of course. But at just twenty-three, you have not yet even entered the prime of your life yet.”

“We’ve gone over this, Carrion.” Raven said, not liking at all where the conversation headed. He’d done his part. It was time for someone else to take on the mantle of Raven of the Bloody Murder.

“Indeed, we have. Well, back to the matter at hand.” Carrion cleared his throat, “There is now what I would consider an existential threat. Not in some remote corner of Sai’ja, or some prophesied entity of destruction descending from the frozen north, or an entity of raw elemental affinity incarnate stalking some remote jungle half a world away. No, this threat has emerged right here in Bhadestan, under our—my—very nose.”

Raven ran a hand over his neatly groomed beard and turned his full body toward the older man. “Carrion. What has happened?”

“Much and more, my Raven.” Carrion nodded, then turned away to look out over the city. “Much and more. Come look out at the city with me. Enjoy the view.”

Raven stared down at Carrion for a moment longer, then turned back toward the city. As the first signs of the coming dawn brightened the eastern horizon, fewer and fewer people were seen moving about, especially not in the inner sphere. The image gave the city a skeletal look that added an ominous atmosphere to their conversation. 

Raven spoke, if for no other reason than to break the uncomfortable silence. “Does this threat have anything to do with the change of staff around here? This new castellan you have caring for the property.”

Carrion nodded. “Huban. Yes, my new manservant’s presence directly results from the very real and very imminent threat to me.”

“And the peace keepers? You have two corpsmen posted inside the entrance.”

Carrion pursed his lips, as if tasting something sour, then nodded again. “The corpsmen are a necessary complication of sorts. The Djudeni council—including all thirty-three council representatives of Bhadestan—have voted unanimously for all members of the collective governing body here to have a constant peace maker presence at all times.”

“What? What about the operation?”

“Obviously, this has made my management of the Bloody Murder difficult, to say the least.”

Raven shook his head. “You’re a high senator. Why don’t you tell the Council members to go shank themselves and do as you like?”

“I did. Or, at least a tried to, but the peacekeepers answer to the council, not the high senate. The council assigned themselves… and me… a permanent security detail. And the biggest issue, of course, would be the fact that my counterpart, High Senator Zuul, would have likely agreed to this security enhancement, were she still alive.”

Raven frowned. “Assassinated?”

Carrion turned to meet his eye with deliberate effect before nodding. “Two weeks ago. Tried to infiltrate this tower for me too, but Farhad notified me well before they arrived. I fled up here. Unfortunately, Farhad didn’t survive the attack.”

“Have you found the attacker yet?”

“I identified one prominent member of the mob that attacked. I had her tracked and cornered by a special strike team of corpsmen. But she took her own life before we could apprehend her.”

“Damn. Do we have any more information at all? I highly doubt it was Sai’ja or Kren’dal. Baroma, perhaps. Kulthene…probably.”

Carrion shook his head. “No. The leader is local.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Local? As in someone from right here in the Sovereign Cities?”

Carrion shook his head again. “No. I mean right here, in Bhadestan. Indeed, the source of the threat.”

“Are you certain?”

“Quite certain, my Raven. In fact, the individual at the head has already sent a direct missive to the Djudeni Citadel taking responsibility.”

“Was the claim verified?”

“Of course,” Carrion snapped, as if the question was ridiculous. That was good. That was the first sign of the prickly old bastard Raven knew. 

“Am I to defend you, then?”

“Defend?” Carrion chuckled. “No. I do not call on my flock for defense, not of me or anyone else. The Bloody Murder exists for one reason and one reason only.”

Raven frowned. “You want me to assassinate the head of this new faction, then. I think you know I need to hear more.”

Carrion paused, then nodded. “This faction is not some new upstart. These are the Desert Sons.”

Raven frowned. “The Sons? They’re nothing more than a street gang. Been around since back when I was a runt running the streets of the outer ring districts. They’re hardly capable of executing operations on the level you’re describing—assassinating high senators and threatening men like you.”

“That was true enough until recently. In less than six months, the group has turned into a sophisticated body. Organized. Disciplined. I have good intel that a head has emerged, and every source states unequivocally this individual is a mage worthy of our regard…of your regard, Raven.”

“A powerful mage. Here in the Sovereign Cities?”

“Yes. Powerful enough to gain attention from more than just the Citadel if left unchecked.”

Raven sat up straighter.

Carrion nodded. “Now you see perhaps the most threatening aspect of this emerging threat.”

“What of Sai’ja and Kulthene? Do they know a mage of noteworthy affinity has re-emerged?”

“To this point, we have no reason to believe they are aware. Because if they did, they would surely view it as the breach of the standing armistice—because that is, in fact, that it is—and then they would descend with their legions, champions, and ascendants.”

“And we would have nothing but the peacekeepers to stand against them.”

“Our peace keepers?” Carrion laughed. “They would stand no chance. They are exactly what their name suggests, a force to keep domestic peace. Nothing more. Not yet, anyway.”

Raven arched a brow. “Are you seeking to form an army for the Sovereign Cities?”

The edge of Carrion’s lip quirked in the hint of a smile, but he shook his head. “No, Raven. To establish a proper military force would be an even more egregious violation of the armistice than a rogue mage running around the least relevant city on the Djudeni. It would be too dangerous to gain any traction amongst the Sovereign Cities’ high senators or council members.”

Carrion’s words stood out to Raven. He didn’t say the formation of an army was too dangerous to attempt. He said it was too dangerous to earn enough support. “But if we felt threatened with absolute devastation by our neighbors, that kind of vulnerability may sway enough support to train a proper military force, maybe even out in the most extreme areas of the Djudeni desert where no one would see.” Raven’s eyes widened as new implications struck him. “Spirits, it might actually cause the Sovereign Cities to re-think—”

Carrion raised a hand, cutting Raven short. “Some ideas are too dangerous to put out in the world…before they are ready.”

Raven nodded. “I…see.” He sighed. “I see why this is important to you. However, I’m not yet convinced this is a job best suited for me.”

“Are you not? After all I’ve stated.”

“I don’t just target powerful mages. My targets are exclusively mages on the verge of the madness, which of course is a condition that only afflicts powerful mages, and powerful mages that have abused and indulged in their power. Is this such a power?”

Carrion clenched his jaw and turned back out to the city. “From the information presented to me, no. This mage does not appear to have either the extreme potency of affinity that would expedite the madness nor suffer any of the signs that would come from prolonged exposure to affinities, even after disregarding the escalating signs of cognitive decay.”

Raven nodded. “As I suspected.”

“However,” Carrion continued. “May I ask why you only target only mages of the highest affinity?”

“You know why.”

“Humor me, please.”

“A mage that has succumbed to the madness presents a threat to life on a scale not even the worst of natural disasters can match. Innocent people have no defense against that kind of unrestrained power. Spirits, most nations of the world don’t either. I take it upon myself to eliminate those threats, because I am one of the few who can.”

“Let it not be said that a cabal of assassins contains no honor, no principles.” Carrion chuckled. “And you, perhaps my finest killer, possess the most.” Carrion paused for a moment. “The heart of what you desire is to step in and defend the defenseless from the one natural element that we humans have no hope of defending against. Sorcerous affinity. And the true danger of sorcery comes on the scale of the destruction. The amount of lives lost and destroyed forces you to react. Compels you.” He paused again. “Is that not right?”

Raven grunted. “That cuts right to the heart of it, yes.”

“So, tell me, what do you do about a sorcerer that, while not as powerful as a near ascendant, is capable of the same catastrophic loss of life, the same level of wanton destruction? What if the population is vulnerable with little defense? What if even the most powerful people in the nation—say, a sitting high senator—is as powerless to stop said sorcerer as the child killed during one of their pre-meditated market bombings?” Carrion raised a finger. “And make no mistake, it is their sorcery, and the insidious nature of implementing their affinity, that is the root of the threat. Who, if anyone, was best suited—dare I say, uniquely suited—to eliminate such a threat?” 

Raven turned the words over in his mind. Carrion raised a point he had never considered. It was valid. Humbling, even. “Where am I to find this mage?”

“I do not know exactly. Nor do I have a description, an accurate account of their economic resources, or sorcerous affinity.”

“Can you tell me what you actually have to give me?”

“Some place in the outer ring districts of the city.”

“I wouldn’t have expected the central or inner sphere. Any clue which? Anything at all?”

“No. Not directly.”

“So you have something, then.”

“Well, I believe the peace keepers are close to discovering this sorcerer’s location. And when we do, I want you there. Join the trail, and then hunt down the threat before the peace keepers do. I will not allow this sorcerer to stand trial. You must eliminate this threat.”

Raven shook his head. “How in the world do you expect me to do that?”

“I will embed you inside an elite peace keeper strike team sniffing closest at this mage’s heels.”

Raven frowned. “Strike team? No, thank you. I’m no soldier.”

“Soldier?” Carrion said with mock offense. “Remember, the Sovereign Cities have no army. You will be a peace keeper; a corpsman.”

“I don’t think so. I operate alone. You know this.”

“I’m afraid there’s no choice in this matter. In fact,” Carrion produced a sheet of rolled parchment from his robes and held it out to Raven.

This document did not have the seal of the Bloody Murder on it. It bore the legislative seal of his seat of office, his high senate crest.

Raven broke the seal and read. His eyes widened. “I’ve been conscripted?”

“An alias, of course. Once you’ve eliminated the mage, all you need to do is return to me. Here, not the roost. In less than a week, you’ll have your discharge.”

“Carrion, I don’t know the first thing about soldiering—er, peacekeeping.”

“Irrelevant. You will not be in the general ranks. Recruits assigned to the strike teams are listed as special operators. They bypass the basic corpsmen training. The team will handle all your training directly. You will embed within strike team Dark.” A hungry look came to Carrion’s eye. “They’re hot on the heels of this mage, Raven. Find and eliminate the threat, and then you’re done. Done with this last contract and done with the Bloody Murder. Simple as that.”

Raven blew out a breath, but nodded. “Very well. Do you have anything else for me to work with?”

“Just an alias.”

Raven’s brows rose. “An alias?”

Carrion nodded. “They call this mage the Crimson Ring.”

“Crimson Ring.” Raven repeated, the name of the next and final mage he must eliminate.

Carrion hesitated another moment, then cleared his throat. “Considering the stakes, there is one more element that I would like you to… address.”

“Oh?” Raven said, suspicious of Carrion’s tone.

“This one is of a more personal nature.”

Never in all his contracts had Carrion asked of a favor. That brought a portion of that ice creeping back into Raven’s belly. “What is this…favor?”

“The first sword of this strike team has earned something of a reputation among the locals and, more notably, the Bhadestani Council members. His growing influence is undermining certain unrelated operations I have in the works. He is making it difficult for me inside his district.”

Carrion came short of saying what Raven suspected, but he wouldn’t let him off that easily. “I need you to say it, Carrion.”

Carrion rolled his eyes. “I need you to eliminate First Sword Abon of strike team Dark, after you have dealt this mage with.”

“Is this first sword a mage of high affinity?”

“No.”

“A mage of any affinity?”

“Afraid not. To my knowledge, he is just a man. Nothing more.”

Raven shook his head. “No. I don’t do political assassinations, and I do not take the lives of people that lack at least potent levels of affinity unless they directly interfere with the execution of a contract. You know this, Carrion.”

“I do know that, Raven.” Carrion reached out tentatively and rested his hand on Raven’s shoulder. “It is why I have never asked this of you before. I would not ask if this was not of the utmost importance. Please, my Raven.”

Raven held Carrion’s eye for a long moment, the cold in his belly freezing over completely, then sighed and shook his head. “I can’t. I am sorry.”

Carrion sighed. “As am I.” He turned and looked back out at the sprawling city below. “I had hoped to kill two birds with one knife. Alas, I will just have to send another.”

“Carrion. I am sorry. Understand, this assignment is already stretching my boundaries. I would typically only eliminate mages, even of the most powerful variety, that are on the cusp of the madness. I can only bend so far.”

“I understand.” Carrion reached into a fold in his shirt and produced another parchment, this one sealed with the talon in red wax, the signet of the Bloody Murder. “Here. The codified version of this contract made official. It contains the latest orders sent down for team Dark. They will deploy at dawn. A raid that might grab us our target.”

Raven grunted. “Something tells me it won’t be that easy.” 

Carrion laughed. “Maybe, but likely not, I agree. Either way, you will be there to intercept them. Oh,” Carrion nodded, as if he just remembered something, “Access to the Roost is off-limits for the foreseeable future. For your alchemical resupply, visit one of the safe houses. Now, best get going. You have a rendezvous. And it seems I have more work to do.”