Chapter 8: Secrets

  Crocodile kicked off the ground into a full sprint. Diamond’s face twisted with both surprise and rage, but before Crocodile could close the distance, the remaining sicklecoat beasts jumped in between. With a thrash of flesh on flesh and scale on scale, Crocodile plowed into them. Claws on both sides flashed and the struggle began. Before Diamond’s face could turn smug, Beetle saw her opening.

  Sandals pounding against sand, Beetle kept her eyes on Crocodile’s back as she ran. The Verdokian was fending off multiple beasts with a practiced ease, even with one arm. Beetle leaped, praying for forgiveness as her sandal clapped against Crocodile’s back. With a push of her leg, Beetle springboarded off the gladiator and over the beasts. Diamond’s eyes widened with disbelief but her wrist flicked anyway.

  One of diamond’s lashes cut through the air, the sharp end spearing into Beetle’s leg with a burst of red. The lash was impaled in her leg and with a tug, Beetle’s trajectory was pulled towards Diamond just as she revealed a thin dagger in her other hand. Marrower hit the lash and both Beetle and the scourge clattered to the ground. Beetle rolled with the crash, avoiding the dagger and popping back onto her feet by Diamond.

  Pain shot up Beetle’s leg, nearly toppling her as she swung her axe. Diamond was all daggers now and nimbly avoided the strike, only for the beard of the axe to tug backwards and hook her shoulder. The flexible gladiator wasn’t bothered beyond the pain and moved with the blow, slamming into Beetle faster than expected. The two were sent to the ground.

  Diamond rolled on top, the taller woman getting leverage. Another dagger flashed in her other hand and with both twin needles she struck. Beetle wriggled away from the point of the blade and with a grunt, shoved her elbow in a jab, cracking against Diamond’s nose. Blood popped and Beetle was free of the grapple.

  Swinging Marrower wide across the ground, Diamond was forced to roll away but before Beetle could use the space to stand up, Diamond was lunging forward again. A hot pain ripped through Beetle, one of the needle daggers grazed her arm, the other batted away by Marrower just in time. Beetle was pushed back into the sand, Marrower too close to use.

  Letting go of her weapon, Beetle reached out and grabbed Diamond by the wrist, trying to keep the daggers from her face while using her knee to batter the gladiator with short strikes. Diamond let out grunts of pain but narrowed her eyes, pushing her weight down and edging the points of her blade to Beetle’s face.

  A shrill scream rattled from somewhere in the crowd and through the stinging sweat, Beetle saw something flash in her periphery. Steel flew through the air and slammed into Diamond, sending the gladiator off Beetle and into the dirt. A throwing knife was embedded in her arm, the serrated edge down to white bone. Beetle looked up.

  A path of blood was opened in the crowd. Two assassins were climbing down from the stands, one of the masked knights bloody in the sand. Over Diamond’s pained growl, Beetle could hear orders being barked as the other knights started to react. Over where a bloodied Crocodile was facing off against the final two beasts, one of the sicklecoats broke off to attack the newcomers. A flurry of knives left the trained arms of the black-clad murderers and the sicklecoat slid into the sand, dead and bloody.

  Beetle could see their eyes beyond their masks, set on her, set with fury and rage. If anyone was to kill Rewe de la Hache, it was going to be them, that’s what their gaze said. Their arms raised, knives bristling, but a shadow appeared behind them, even more sinister than themselves.

  Miss Chiara appeared, one hand on the shoulder of the furthest assassin, her other wrapped around a curved blade. With a tug, a spray of scarlet erupted from one of the assassin’s throats. The final assassin panicked and threw his blades at Beetle before turning to Chiara.

  Sun glinted off the knives, but before they could find Beetle, an aquatid jumped in front of the bloodied warrior, knocking the knives out of the air with a staff as if they were toys. Bone cracked and the living assassin was sent to the ground, arms broken behind his back. He was on his knees as the knights of the arena finally made it to him, eager to slap him in iron.

  “Rewe!” The assassin gurgled between shoves. “I’ll kill you, Rewe!”

  Beetle blinked and noticed for the first time, her vision was blurry. She looked down at her leg, still bleeding from the lash, then at the rest of her body. Beyond her vision, Crocodile was sitting down, crimson but breathing, while Phin was leaned against the corpse of a sickleback, better off than everyone else. Beetle blinked again, her ears picking up Chiara’s voice.

  “It’s not him.”

  “Obviously,” the Aquatid, Gaju, answered.

  Chiara’s voice was pointed somewhere else, “Patch Rewe up, get her to the duchess’s carriage. Bring the others.”

  Beetle let her head lay back in the sand, the blurry sky above. “Fuck this.”

  ***

  The door to the duchess’s carriage closed with a puff of velvet. It was par for the course, the entire interior of the gaudy vehicle was lined with the fabric dyed blue and dotted with silver stars. Beetle sat on the comfiest booth she ever had the honor of gracing, her body aching and in pain. She was bruised, bandaged, and understandably not in the best of moods.

  Countering that, the Duchess Maelys sat across from her, grinning a pearly grin and dressed in a flawless silver gown. Her midnight purple skin matched the ensemble and the constellation-like freckles of her face only added to her cosmic appearance. It was to Beetle’s knowledge that Maelys was from the Eastern Continent of Befur, but of what manner of creature she was, it wasn’t in Beetle’s recollection.

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  “Well, well!” Maelys tapped the wall behind her and with a tug, the carriage started to move. Beetle winced at the jerking motion and shot the duchess an annoyed look. Outside, Beetle could barely hear the carriages the others were stuffed into over the sound of wheel on cobble.

  “Dear, look at me,” Maelys chastised, stealing Beetle’s attention once again. They stared at each other for a moment. Angry green eyes against the heavenly pearls of a duchess. Maelys’ lips spread into a wider smile. “You could boil water with that look.”

  “Tell me everything,” Beetle growled.

  The duchess’s smile faded a little. “Of course, I’m sure you’re confused… shall I call you Rewe?”

  “Beetle,” the warrior insisted.

  That caught a reaction as Maelys cocked a brow. “A… joke?”

  “No,” Beetle said simply.

  “Very well.” Maelys sank into her chair. “As you may have gathered by now, you are being used.”

  Beetle puffed a breath through her cheeks. “No shit. Why am I here and why?”

  “You’re here because a few months ago you killed the son of the Thrice-fold Slayer,” the duchess leaned forward, catching Beetle’s eye. “Do you remember that?”

  “No,” Beetle squinted, as if it would unfog her thoughts. “I can’t remember anything.”

  “Because of a special toxin, haramush, that was applied to you,” Maelys explained. “Lord Gallo’s company works out of Southern Yzaille where it can be found. One of his agents secured the toxin and then secured you with it. A few days later you were on my island.”

  “You’ll need to explain a little more than that,” Beetle spat.

  “There was no way we could control Rewe de la Hache as is, and I had no connection to the haramush, so I tapped Lord Gallo to do the retrieval and in return, he could play patron to his favorite idol so long as he kept you ignorant.” The words flowed from Maelys simply, as if she was discussing the weather.

  Beetle shot out of her chair, only to stumble back into it as the carriage bumped on the road. “You!” Beetle growled as she tried to stand again. “You were the one!?”

  Maelys held out her palms. “Now, now, I can see why you’d be upset, but let me explain the whole ordeal. I do have a fancy little offer for you.”

  “Shove your offer!” Beetle spat. “I oughta gut you.”

  Maelys grinned. “You’re sounding like your old self already.”

  Beetle closed her eyes at that and Maelys continued while the warrior fumed. “Listen. This was against your will, obviously, but now that you know, we could go into this as partners.”

  The warrior was clenching her fists white. Every fiber in her body wanted to beat the duchess into a pulp, but for some reason, instead she asked, “into what?”

  “Thrice-fold Slayer is after you, and he will find you,” Maelys explained slowly. “I expected him to find you without me ever advertising you to be on Perdi. One reason I wanted you ignorant is so you could play gladiator without care and let him come to you so we could intercept him, but now that you know, I don’t see any reason we can’t continue the plan with you as a partner.”

  “Why do you want the Thrice-fold Slayer?” Beetle found herself asking.

  “Easy,” Maelys’ smile never faded. “I want to capture him and turn him over to the kings of Dalme and Kanespin as well as the Queen of Farroux, and in return, they will recognize Perdi as a sovereign nation and me as its queen. I see no reason not to share those spoils with you. As for why those kings and queens would want the Slayer so badly, let’s just say he is called the Thrice-fold because he has slain the last monarchs of each of those countries. He was a Black Scorpion.”

  Even Beetle remembered that name. The Black Scorpions, the deadly assassins for hire from the sands, second to none in the art of death. Beetle was clenching her jaw. “You expect me to work with you, after all of this?”

  “Rewe likely wouldn’t,” the Duchess sat back. “And I doubt Beetle would, for free at least.”

  Beetle sat there in silence, staring at the woman across from her. Every beat of her heart was an angry one and every pulse in her head carried a violent thought. The duchess used her, stole her memories, and threw her into a prison whose warden was a creep. Rewe de la Hache would stand up right there and wrap her fingers around the duchess’s neck, but Beetle, Beetle knew her friends were in the carriage behind her, she knew the duchess knew more, and she knew she wouldn’t escape the island alive if she chose violence right here and now.

  Opening her mouth, Beetle’s tongue felt sour as she spoke. “I’ll play along, but with conditions.”

  Maelys dipped her head. “Naturally.”

  “When we capture the Slayer,” Beetle’s mind drifted to the pain Rewe inflicted on Gareg. “I want four ships, three fit for commercial fishing and one for deep sea, as well as a crew for each.”

  The duchess’s eyes widened. “Four vessels!?”

  “Or I could ring your neck right here and now and we both die before you get a whiff of royalty.” Beetle sat back. “You need me on board, but I don’t need you.”

  Maelys’ smile was gone, teeth clenched. “Oh my, what a thinker you are.” A tense pause. “If you want to play fisherwoman, I won’t stop you, I suppose.”

  “Two up-front,” Beetle piped.

  The duchess blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “Two ships up front,” Beetle clarified, “for fishing.”

  “And how do I know you won’t use them to escape?” Maelys hissed.

  “Escape?” Beetle was grinning now. “Why would a free partner need to escape?”

  Maelys’ grin spread again, thick with poison. “You really are Rewe de la Hache. Fine, it’s a deal.”