Curselock

Chapter 34: Smugglers Guild

Through the sea water rusted door, the group came eye to eye with the mountain of a man who opened it for them. The man was dirty with grease and sweat, long dark streaks crossed his stubble where his working hands scratched himself. His fingernails told the story of years of manual labor, constant abuse to unload or load the city’s many ships.

The man didn’t look twice at the group nor did he care that three young men, kids really, had entered. In fact, the man didn’t seem to care about anything other than the small pipe he clutched dearly. Faded burnt blue residue sat dormant in the pipe as the man hastily tried to light a match. Eventually he did, and the sweet taste of his pleasure found his lungs.

As the man blew out blue smoke, Leland recognized the drug. Once they were past the guard and into the connected tunnel, he spoke up.

“Mana Dust. I’ve never seen it before.”

Boor didn’t look back, too busy navigating through the slimy undercity, but he did speak up, “Street name for it is Lucky Blue, although you sure aren’t lucky when it digs its talons into you.”

“Why do they call it that then?” Jude asked.

“Because you are lucky enough to be smoking Mana Dust.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Doesn’t have to.”

“Just what is this place?” Glenny asked when they began towards the dark.

“Shoutwell used to be owned by pirates. This is the main stronghold,” Boor answered, feeling around the walls as they walked.

“Does this connect to the sewers?” Leland asked.

“In a few spots, but most have been sealed up for when city inspectors make sure the concrete isn’t cracking.”

“So, the odds are low that the Sightless will be down here?”

“I’d say so, but who knows. If they want to remain hidden, they could most definitely keep their anonymity here.”

Jude subconsciously scrunched his hand, like gripping his axe. “And where exactly is here?”

Boor didn’t answer right away, his focus on a small rope covered in sludge and damp sea moss. He cautiously pulled the line, like any force above the bare minimum would snap it. When he did, a small cut out in the wall twisted before pulling in on itself.

The butler then smiled. “Boys, are you ready for an experience you’ll never forget?”

He received various unenthusiastic head nods.

“Well,” Boor said, sticking his hand into the cut out and pulling. “I welcome you to the real Smuggler’s Guild.”

As the wall slowly creaked open, like a door, Leland asked, “Really?”

“The city guard knows about this tunnel, they, however, do not know about what is through this door. When the Inquisitors were here three years ago, they had a hard time finding the Icewillow’s product storage. All information pointed to it being in the Smuggler’s Guild, but they never figured out there was a second.”

“That’s ingenious!” Jude laughed.

“Yeah… real smart,” Glenny said, a glare catching their guide. “Why didn’t you tell them? You were working with the Onryos by then right? Why not help the Inquisitors?”

Boor stepped through the door and signaled for the boys to follow. “That is simple. If I had told the Inquisitors, then the news of my betrayal would have leaked. I would have been dead before I could leave the city. The Onryos too. Anyone I loved would have had their throats slit.”

“The Onryos know of this place and allow it?” Leland asked.

“They do and no, they do not. This is a lawless place. They have no power here. If anything, this place has power over them. Just look at the eldest son. Lost his life coming down here to get his fix.”

They turned a short corner and suddenly the floor dropped. Down it went, like the cliff face of the plateau they met Alkin on. It sprawled wide and long, a singular cavern with dozens of tunnels leading in and out.

“I-it’s a whole city!” Jude exclaimed.

Hundreds of small wooden buildings made up the underbelly city, each molded or slick with moss. A foundation of darkness and salt water filled the depths while scaffolding held structures high into the cavern’s air space. Ancient stone bridges connected points together, each housing dozens of other buildings built from their sound support.

People moved without worry or reprieve, often shoving their way through the crowded pathways. Some moved with entourage and guard, but everyone at least carried a dagger. Fights were a common sight for the group's sky-like vantage, as well as the murderous shoves that ended said battles with a corpse flailing towards the certain doom below the city life.

“This is amazing,” Leland whispered.

“How does the whole city not know about this place?” Glenny asked.

Vibrant lights took place around the area, each a different intensity and color. Some were attached to buildings, others drilled deep into the foundation. There were even a few drifting balloons, each sporting their own light source.

“Most don’t want to know. Their lives are good enough above, why would they need to search for anything else?” Boor asked rhetorically.

The butler led them down a slick staircase and the occasional ladder, eventually putting them at the edge of the filthy, rickety buildings. There were only a few souls around them, each holding glowing blue pipes or puffing similar colored smoke.

“Come on, we haven’t even gotten to the good part. Or scary, depending on who you ask,” Boor said with a glint in his eye.

They pushed on, crossing weathered stone bridges with decades of attempted reinforcement. Steel beams had been added to each, crossing the length of the walkway and partially into the stonework. The process had amalgamated the straight walk, giving the bridge many hazardous tipping obstacles.

Once across one of the larger bridges, the group came upon what Leland could only describe as “the market.” Thousands of people pushed their way through a single street, either side filled with peddlers or shopkeepers. Items of all kinds were eye candy for any opportunistic Thief Lord, only the threat of the smuggler enforcers stopped their greedy hands.

“Five minutes of looking,” Boor said, “Then we find Poppy.”

The boys nodded earnestly, going from one blanket with knick knacks shrewdly laid on top to a crooked table housing jewelry boxes full of odd eggs. A sign read “Monster Eggs,” and suddenly Leland found himself skipping to the next seller.

Jude inspected a small buckler shield, one which rhythmically glowed with off white sparkle. He started haggling, asking for a demonstration before ultimately putting the item back – despite the “discount” he was offered.

Glenny crouched before a small table manned by a wrinkled old woman. She waved her hand over three cups, moving them with frighteningly fast speed. When Glenny couldn’t pick the correct cup, Boor stepped in and told the woman off.

“Keep your wits about you,” Boor then said. “Everyone here is looking to score. You are too green not to take advantage of.”

Glenny nodded with understanding, venturing to the next booth that caught his fancy. In the end, he bartered his two steel daggers and some gold for a pair with a bit longer reach. It was then he remembered the parasitic cloak he left in the mansion. He wondered just how much money they could get if they sold it.

Then he realized it didn’t really matter. Nothing he had seen so far had even come close to the level of uniqueness the cloak held. It was then and there that he decided he would keep it, just like Leland and Jude wanted.

Eventually the group congregated on Leland who was actively arguing with a heavily warted shopkeeper. When Boor loomed over the conversation, the man quickly apologized, packed his things, and left.

“Coward,” the butler spit. “Let’s get moving.”

They left the market street, heading towards another wide bridge. As they did so, Leland and the others grew confused. They had pushed through a mass of people, but now the crowd had mostly dissipated.

“They are watching you, Boor,” Glenny then said, his eyes having turned into lizard like slits.

“I know, I didn't think they’d recognize me this quickly.”

Jude recoiled at that. “Because you are House Onryo’s butler?”

Boor chuckled at that. “No, because I used to run things here. Old wounds, you know?”

The man’s demeanor then completely changed. From quiet proper manners to a sinister smirk thirsting for battle, Boor kept his chin high and drew his weapon. It flared to life from his hand tattoo, a long rapier made of polished silver steel. He then held it to his cheek, the sharp edge grazing his short stubble while the tip threatened an alleyway.

“Come on out, I’ve already smelled you,” Boor said, causing the shadows to morph into people.

From out of the darkness, nine battle ready thugs stepped. Each held various weapons or their legacies while also carrying the same branding tattoo. It marked across their faces regardless of scars or acne, in the form of a large black “W.”

“Witches,” Jude seethed.

One of the thugs bellowed, “Ahh, is that Boor leading more children into the belly of the beast? I guess one death on your hands isn’t enough to call the wrath of the Lords! It was for me, but then again, I slit his throat while you fed yours Lucky Blue!”

Boor didn’t respond.

The man snapped and pointed. “I remember now! Not much of a talker, you. Always the silent type hiding in the shadows looking to take out the competition. Not any more, I guess. Traitor, you are. Well guess what! The Icewillows aren’t around to protect you anymore, and you know what that mea—”

The man’s sentence was abruptly cut off as Boor flickered across the street rubble. The thug then fell, lifeless and bleeding from a singular puncture wound in the middle of his forehead.

“I remember you as well,” Boor spat. “Too much of a talker, you were.”

The butler then readied his weapon again, turning to the other Witches.