Page 49 of Snake Eyes & Bad Luck

Callum glanced back to the city, searching for the alarms. Nothing moved or shook or sounded, which worried him more. He scanned what he could see in the dark for merging bodies or rushing paladins but it was just as still and calm as when he arrived.

“Please take a seat next to the booth, your pass has already been scanned. Once the train begins to board again—” A beam of light, short lived but powerful, pierced the night sky. Callum didn’t hear the desk agent’s other words. His focus was on trying to pinpoint where the pillar of sunlight came from. It disappeared without another sound. Still, there was no great rush of people or anyone poking their heads out into the alleys.

He slithered an inch to the side, lured by the light, with his head craned.

“Sir?”

Callum straightened and returned his attention to the gate agent. The family was seated with the elderly human who had been in line ahead of them. He flashed an apologetic smile as he approached. “I got a quick question. Yeah, this attack on the vault?”

“You have nothing to fear, sir. Any gold you have in there is perfectly safe.”

“Uh-huh,” he laughed, swinging his bag around his body. He opened it slowly to give himself time to distract the agent. They were an elven person with hair stylishly swept to the side, a tiara across their forehead. Dressed in clerical robes with all the same emblems, but they worked behind the desk at the train station, stamping tickets and telling people which vessel to board. Their uninterested green eyes kept on their pile of papers in front of them, not on Callum. He cleared his throat, finally getting a mildly irritated glance from them. Callum used his most precise, practiced voice, “I wonder how that is, when I don’t see any rushin’ forces or alarms going off. Certainly, if there was an attack, they’d be doin’ more than just stoppin’ the trains.”

The desk agent sighed, “You’ve nothing to be worried about, sir.”

“Really, the response by the Paladins is deplorable if they—”

He knew he’d pushed just the right buttons because the agent rolled their eyes. They pushed aside their papers before they folded their arms over the top of the desk. “Sir, we knew this attack was coming.”

Callum blinked once. “What?”

“Clearly you’re the nosey sort, so I’ll indulge you. We caught one of the outlaws at large, you might know him as Daggertooth Dan.”

Callum’s fake smile faltered for a moment. Dan? No. No Dan died! I heard him scream when they gutted him. Shit. His head filled with screams of fury as she nodded to the gate agent to continue.

“Well, he squealed. All those pathetic little outlaws do. He told us that some fools were planning to hit the vault, so we made it look like we were low on security to entice them to strike. I got word not that long ago that they’d made their move and we’re moving in on them now. Now…your papers, sir?”

Callum froze, fingers curled around the maw of his satchel. Dan squealed? The entire heist was a trap. He sent her into a trap. He sent her into a Paladin trap! His heart skipped a beat as he glanced back out toward the city beyond the train station. She’s a sitting duck. Sure, she could probably whoop his crew’s ass if she was scared enough. And yeah, his warlock grew a backbone, but was she slaughter an entire Stronghold of prepared Paladins strong? Shit.

The crackle of voices caught his attention. Both him and the attendant glanced at a fancy opal sitting on the desk. A message stone. He watched in terror that maybe it would be Avelina on the other end, screaming for help. Only it was worse.

So much worse.

“Repeat, you are clear to board the trains. The perpetrators have been caught. They eviscerated the harpy, but we’ve arrested the Drakonis and Ms. Dalethorn. They’ll be waiting for processing in the temple with Dan.”

The agent exhaled happily, taking the stone in hand and putting it to their mouth. “Copy that, thank you, Knight Commander. That’ll be a hefty reward paid to Parandor, the king will be delighted to hear we got three in one go. Boarding the night train.”

“Fuck!” Callum barked.

He didn’t wait to hear what they said next. He raced from the station into the city, satchel flying with him. The cries of the desk agent followed him for a block or two, but he was gone. Callum zipped through the streets in search of his warlock. His stomach was in knots at the idea of her in the temple. If they lay a finger on her. The plan was simple! He was furious and if Grahm was still alive when he got there, he’s dead. One job! Just the one! Grahm had one fucking job. Get his warlock out of the city during the heist. If he’d done his fucking job, then she’d be on some wagon headed to Eshorion and likely Grahm wouldn’t be in chains. Callum fumed, shoving a cloaked man stumbling out of a bar right back into the door. He didn’t even stop when he heard the snap of some bone in the bastard’s body echo off the stone.

No one treated Avelina right. Not her righteous father who made her afraid of every raised hand or stern word. Not her cowardly mother who didn’t prepare her for the world or teach her to love better people than Callum fucking Cottonmouth Zaspair. Not his crew, not the Paladins, and certainly not Grahm! If this rotten, traitorous world was not going to handle her properly, then he’d just have to do it his fucking self.

Madeline used to say, if you want something done right, you’ll have to do it yourself. And Callum was going to save her skin…again. She could hate him all she wanted, but she was leaving the city with him. We’re leaving together this time, little viper.

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Avelina

Avelina didn’t expect to wake, so doing so in her childhood bedroom was…strange. She sat up slowly, pulling back covers. The sound of Tala snoring to her side made her jerk. Her best friend was spread out, starfish style as per usual in the canopy bed, and still barely touching Avelina who curled up like a ball. The warlock stared.

And stared…

And stared as if there was no way she could be there. Tala was in Eshorion, off on some adventure, saving lives and kicking ass. Yet, there she was, like they were days before her father arrived. Back when her mother was still alive, albeit barely. This is in the past. She turned away from her slumbering monk to scan the room. It was drenched in early morning sunlight. Little dust particles glittered as they floated through the room. Avelina slid to her feet, walking across familiar carpet to her bedroom door. If this is the past, then my mother is… She glanced across the hall to the master room. The door yawned open.

A dark, shabby patch of lace darted into the shadows and Avelina followed. Her body was sluggish, weighed down by some unseen force but it didn’t hinder her. It forced her to move to the beat of her heart. The steady, soft beat in her ear moved her body, a puppet on invisible strings. Her palm touched the bedroom door and it creaked eerily. The room beyond was drenched in shadow. Heavy curtains drawn to block out any sunlight. Only a candle, a singular pillar of white wax with a shy flame dancing over it at her mother’s bedside. Avelina slid her toes along the floor. They were cold like the grave.

In fact, the whole room was icy. Tiny clouds formed in front of her nose as she breathed. Avelina feared what she would find behind the curtains on her mother’s bed, but couldn’t stop herself. A moth drawn to its holy pyre, she picked up the candle and held it near her face as the fabric peeled open on their own. Laid out in her bed was her mother, draped in her burial shroud.