Gut her.
Those swords were unsheathed in an instant, and before I could move they encircled me, blocking off all avenues of escape. I just stared at them stupidly, noticing how shiny the blades were in the moonlight. They must have cleaned them after they killed that poor man, I thought, and then I snapped out of it.
How dare you. The words came from me of their own volition, in an icy, regal tone that shocked them almost as much as it shocked me. The men froze, looking to their leader for encouragement.
But the surprise lasted only for a moment, and then they were advancing on me, and it was those blades or the river. I preferred the blades. Im a guest of Azazels, I said in a more normal voice, but it didnt slow their determined approach. A sword sliced past my face, just missing me. Beloch wouldnt like it if you hurt me! The last came out on a tiny scream.
Beloch. The leader spoke the name, not as a question, just a word. And this time the words worked. Well take you to Beloch, he said finally. He was a giant of a man, with broad shoulders, brutal hands, and empty eyes. And if youve lied, well show you no mercy.
As far as I could see, they hadnt been about to show me any mercy in the first place, but I simply nodded, not wincing when two of them grabbed my upper arms and force-marched me away from the river. I felt something trickle down my face and onto my T-shirt, and I realized the saber had been closer than Id guessed. I made an attempt to reach up and wipe the blood away, but their grip on my arms made such a move impossible. All I could do was let them march me through the now-deserted streets of the Dark City.
We approached the restaurant, now closed, of course. They took me in through the lower level, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I recognized slightly familiar ground. They pushed me into the building roughly, then shoved me into some small, dark closet, locking me in.
Okay. I was only slightly claustrophobic, and that mainly went for MRIs and caves. Not that I could remember any MRIs or caves, but I must have encountered them at some point. I leaned back against the wall, reaching up to check my face.
I was still bleeding, but the cut wasnt deep, and it wouldnt leave much of a scar. Figuring I was safe for the moment, I pulled my T-shirt over my head and carefully cleaned the wound, using the back of the shirt to soak up the blood so I wouldnt look too gory. It stopped bleeding after a while, and I pulled the T-shirt carefully back over my head. Sudden exhaustion swept over me as the last day and a half caught up with me. Humans werent made to live at this high pitch of stress, and I was human. I was tired, tired of being afraid, tired of being brave anyway, tired of wondering what was going to happen to me. I leaned against the wall, then slid to the floor, putting my head on my knees, shaking. No tears. Why couldnt I cry? Surely I had more than enough reason to cry.
I reached up and touched my eyes. Dry. Maybe I was born without tear ducts. It was just as welltears were a sign of weakness and I couldnt afford to show any. I leaned my head back against the wall, willing myself to relax. Staying at this high pitch of anxiety wouldnt do me any good. I took a deep, calming breath, centering myself, and felt my body relax.
Do not tell me youve fallen asleep. An amused voice broke through my self-imposed reverie, and I opened my eyes to look up into Belochs kindly face framed by the doorway.
I smiled back at him, relief flooding me. I yawned and rose, stretching. Everything was going to be fine. There wasnt much to keep me occupied, I said in an unruffled voice.
I must apologize for the Nightmen. Our crime problem is small but virulent, and you were down by the river where the criminals tend to lurk. It was a good thing you thought to mention my name. I shudder to think what might have happened otherwise. He looked over his shoulder, and there was a faintly querulous note in his voice. And just where is Azazel? Why didnt he accompany you? He would have made certain you didnt wander where you shouldnt have, and no one would have come near you.
I went out without telling him. I didnt stop to wonder why I was shielding him. There was already enmity between the two men, and anything I did to further that would presumably
aid me.
Beloch held out a thin, gnarled hand, and I took it, propelling myself upward. He was an old man, and I figured he would topple over if I really used him to get up. There was a light of amusement in his rheumy eyes, as if he knew Id been sparing him, but he said nothing.
I have tea and cake waiting for us in my study, my child, he said. His fingers had caught mine in a grip that was surprisingly tight, and I wanted to pull away, but there was no polite way to do so. He led me down the utilitarian hallways, hallways I sensed ought to be painted the universal industrial green, toward the heavy wooden door of his study. He held it open, and warmth poured out, physical and emotional. Beloch fussed over me like a grandfather, settling me into a comfortable chair, covering my legs with a lap robe, and handing me a cup of Earl Grey.