Curselock

Chapter 50: Kingpins

Returning to the underbelly was a rather easy feat. No one other than the odd cultist and fresh recruit walked the streets. Most, if not everyone sane, stayed in their homes under the cover of a candle-less room. Doors were locked, children were hushed, and an atmosphere of unease left the area in an abandoned state.

As Boor led Jude and Leland to Shoutwell’s Smugglers Guild, they found no obstacle. They entered the lower tunnels quickly followed by the real passage to the underbelly. As soon as they stepped into the illegal cavern, their eyes quickly found reprieve.

The lack of fog felt amazing to the group, each silently agreeing to take a moment and simply look. Making full use of their vision, they traced around the underworld, finding the vertically built cramped buildings, ancient reinforced bridges, and people.

It was strange to Leland, seeing a mass of people out in the open. It felt like weeks since he last saw a crowd. But that was when he noticed white mist falling into the underbelly from the ceiling. It was faint and quickly dissipated into the airspace of the cavern, but the cause was more than apparent.

“The cult is going to make an attempt for this place soon,” Leland said, pointing to the ceiling.

Boor took a long breath. “So they may,” he said in a voice less than happy.

Jude soon took to the stairs leading down, the others quickly following along. They eventually stepped into the city major, past those on the outer streets, those in need of serious help. There was more this time, more people smoking or selling Lucky Blue. Many simply sat around, their minds spinning with the thrills of manufactured mana.

“A shame,” Leland whispered as if his words would matter if overheard.

Boor didn’t respond, yet adjusted his light armor in a near obsessive way. Jude was much the same but kept his eyes forward as much as possible.

Upon entering the market street, the group hung in the shadows, passing through quickly and quietly. Many mercenaries were out and about, bellowing about their triumphs or heroics. Some yelled in a language Leland was unfamiliar with, others with thick accents that spoke of far off lands.

As they passed, a fight suddenly broke out between two warrior types, each drawing blades in a swift yet forceful motion. They battled for a bit but quickly found other things to do when the underbelly enforces arrived. Even the onlookers found other things to be enamored by, walking off like the floor was on fire.

Shaking his head at the display, Leland asked, “Why didn’t the enforcers help when those Witches attacked us?”

Boor gave a weak shrug. “Probably paid off. Enforcers follow very loose rules. Keep the peace unless someone pays, sort of thing.”

“Why have enforcers at all then? Wouldn’t the—” Leland’s words died in his throat and Boor quickly pulled him and Jude out of sight.

“What are they doing down here?” Jude screeched through hushed lips. “Invading already?”

Leland poked his head around the corner, finding six red robed Sightless Cultists standing in the center of the large market area. They called for those looking for salvation, for any and everyone wanting power and respect.

“They’re recruiting,” he growled.

A twinkle appeared in Boor’s eye. “A slow invasion.” He laughed. “That may work.”

Jude’s lip twitched. “What? You said an invasion into the underbelly would fail.”

“A frontal assault, yes. But one with subtlety and numbers? Perhaps not.”

Leland continued the butler’s thought. “They don’t need to kill all who oppose them, they are hoping that their promise of revenge and power is enough to have the newly initiated do it for them.”

“Exactly,” Boor said. “Many people down here hate the kingpins. It's only a matter of time until some desperate souls decide to test out the Sightless King’s powers.”

“All the more reason for the kingpins to listen and help us,” Jude added.

They took a wide berth around the cultists, making use of the crowd to hide their faces. More than a few times Boor suddenly turned his gaze onto people in the area, a silent threat being communicated to those who recognized him. It generally worked, most of the lowlifes didn’t want anything to do with the old man. At least, until someone with a “W” brand appeared.

“Boor,” Leland spoke up.

“I see her. She’s just probing us. They remember what happened last time we were down here.”

“Is there going to be a fight?” Jude quickly asked.

“No,” Boor answered. “Not while we are walking in this direction.”

“W-what’s in this direction?”

“Certain death.”

“Oh, right. Lovely.”

The group fell back into silent steps and eventually exited the main market area. The street opened up as buildings fell away. In the distance a large wooden ship sat alone on a rocky pillar. It was stabbed through the hull, like a meal set on a roasting spit. Boor’s eyes softened as he looked at it.

“Something wrong?” Leland quickly asked.

“No, nothing. This way, come on.” The butler turned, venturing further and further from the old ship.

The crumbled stone floor changed the moment they stepped off a bridge. Properly paved concrete sat without scuffs or blemishes, mimicking the non-cracked foundation of the nearby buildings. The amount of people around suddenly decreased, placing the group formally without cover.

“Let me do the talking. Do not accept any deals without me being present. And do not be rude.” Boor’s eyes found Jude’s.

“I’m not rude.”

No one responded.

Entering the building, the group found itself in a long room. The underbelly “throne room” was a vast assortment of riches and treasures. The walls and floors sparkled with unimaginable glitter and sheen, gold and ivory making up the primary highlights. From the door to the far wall, the room exhibited only money, money, money. Wealth was on display like bricks on a house or leaves in a forest.

Shuddering, Leland focused on the goal and not the demons of greed. He was tempted, the piles of raw gold in the corners more than enough to fuel his life for decades. Looking to Jude, he could tell they shared a similar thought. Neither had seen so much wealth, not even when Royal Attendants met with their parents.

Gems, silks, and more than a few loops of opulent chains were worn by the room’s bystanders, each with varying levels of annoyance on their faces. Some looked down right despicable, like they expected a public execution by the end of the day. Others were more sympathetic. They saw Jude and Leland for what they were, kids. Kids who would battle the heavens for their friend.

“Now what do we have here?” A feminine voice cooed from across the room.

Sitting with a curious gaze, a woman plaid in velvet threads watched the trio enter. She subtly motioned, removing the nearest of her entourage from her throne and sending them to the neighboring area. Her face brightened as they neared, despite a large scar trailing across her right eye. An embroidered eyepatch hid most of the wound but part of her check was ruined from the laceration.

“Big Boss,” Boor said, throwing his hand before him in a bow.

Jude and Leland quickly made the same motion.

“Boor,” the kingpin responded, her tone still lackadaisical and curious. “Last I saw you, you were running with your tail between your legs.”

“Yes, those were quite trying times.”

She laughed. “So they were, so they were. But you landed on your feet! House Onryo! Very posh.”

“The Onryos have been very generous.”

“Yet you return to me? Very interesting.”

Boor tightened his smile. “And Simon, yes.”

Big Boss’s eyes quickly found the ceiling. They hung there as she took a deep breath. Once settled, she returned her gaze to Boor. “Why?”

“Because Shoutwell is in danger.”

“The Sightless Cult, yes we know of them. But they matter not to us. They are a surface issue.”

“No so much, no,” Boor said. “They are nearly to compl—”

“BOOR!”

The butler shuddered, turning slowly to a side hallway. A skinny older man stepped out of the shadows with both arms out, like a doctor entering a surgery. Thick green goop fell from between his fingers where an attendant was instantly there to clean the mess despite the horrid stink.

“Simon,” Boor said. “How wonderful to see you again.”

“Is it?” the man asked. “Last time we saw each other, I had just finished killing your first mate. Remember? Remember the blood?”

“I do, and my statement was sarcastic. Yes, it is horrible to see you again. I wished I would never have to step in this room again. But things are dire.”

It was then Leland noticed the branding of the Witch on Simon’s face. His posture instantly changed, as did Jude’s. The woman also looked hesitant around the kingpin, like anything she did was under scrutiny and potential punishment. She was afraid, Leland realized.

Simon, wiping his hands off with the poor woman’s dress, noticed the air in the room change. “Who are they?” he asked Boor.

“The two who killed William Icewillow.”

A ripple of chatter echoed through the vaulted ceiling as the bystanders rose in rage. Some yelled curses, others quickly left trying to hide their faces. Even Jude and Leland were staring at their butler comrade.

Simon laughed. “Oh? I heard old Will had escaped the Inquisitors. Confirming his death is a relief off my shoulders. You know?” he asked Big Boss.

She ignored him. “When was this?”

Boor looked to Leland. “Three weeks ago in Liontrunk, specifically the dungeon just outside the city.”

The kingpins hummed.

Boor’s voice filled the void. “They did you two a favor, and we wish to collect.”

“A favor?” Simon boomed. “How so?”

“You are now the sole provider for Lucky Blue on this side of the continent. And Big Boss’ smuggling operations have reaped the rewards of fresh territory.”

“And what? You want us to run the Sightless out of the upper city? Quite a big undertaking.”

The woman attendant froze. She hesitantly relooked over the guests in the throne room – a slight sparkle in her eyes.

“Not as much as you’d think,” Boor answered. “We have a map of the sewers with four potential spots for their operations as well as knowledge on their defenses.”

“And you lack an army to act on this knowledge?” Big Boss inferred.

“We were petitioning for an open bounty on the cultists—”

“You know they have already infiltrated the Guild, right?” Jude suddenly said.

Boor grimaced but quickly added to the question. “They are recruiting a few streets over in the main market. The Sightless King uses some kind of mind control, meaning eventually you will be overrun from inside.”

Almost as if to punctuate his words, the woman who had been following Simon attacked, her eyes glowing fiery red.

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