Chapter 16: Manhunt

“Lots of places to hide a corpse, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to it. Dumping bodies is an art, and don’t let anybody tell you different.”

-Cudge the Graverobber, 175 U.E, anecdotal account.

“You know, this isn’t my first time,” Kazzul said, making no effort to pull his head away from the pistol barrel. “You’ll need more than threats to scare me.”

The woman pulled the gun away and stuck it into her pants. “You’re right.”

Kazzul kept his face neutral, but gave an inward sigh of relief.

“I’ll have to try harder with a cockroach like you,” she continued.

The woman flicked a knife out of her back pocket, smiling wickedly, and let it trace across Kazzul’s chest. She pressed a little harder, and he hissed as she drew a long cut over his pectorals.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, you and I,” the woman said, moving her face close to his, “but in the end, I’ll be the only one laughing.”

Kazzul forced a chuckle, a little shriller than he would have liked. “We’ll see about that, sweetest.”

In his head, he tried to connect this woman’s face with the countless spurned lovers of his past, both distant and recent.

None of them seemed to match.

“Do I know you?” he asked, frowning.

The woman drew a cut across Kazzul’s stomach, making him groan as he strained uselessly against the plastic ties.

“Keep talking like that,” she said. “It’s making this so much easier for me.”

She put the knife against him once more.

“Wait!” Kazzul cried, leaning back in his chair. “I am Kazzul Clanless of the Tits Up! I work for Quintilla Wenezian. My crewmates are probably already looking for me. If you kill me, they’ll do the same to you.”

The woman pushed the point of the knife against Kazzul’s ribs, pushing harder and harder until it punctured the skin and began to slide into the flesh, jolts of hot agony going through Kazzul’s chest.

“I’m counting on it,” she said. “Saves me the trouble of killing myself once this is over.”

Kazzul breathed between clenched teeth, groaning at the pain.

Deep Gods, who is this madwoman? he thought.

*****

The crew stood outside Sweet Devil, sans Taira and Yin, the former of which had been left behind to look after the latter, as well as the ship itself.

The sudden activity had helped sober Stephan up a little, but he was still nursing a bad headache, and he found his vision blurring every so often.

“Okay, I’m going to split us up so we can cover more ground,” Quintilla said, thumbs inside her belt. “Time is of the essence here. I think we’d all rather recover or pilot alive. If Rand did this, he won’t have long.”

“Understood, Captain,” Kurko said with a nod.

“Torch, you’re with me,” she said. “We’re checking the bar. Stephan and Kurko, you handle the surrounding streets. Find out anything you can about his whereabouts, anyone who might have seen him last night or knows where he was going.”

Kurko cast Stephan a sidelong glance. He gave a low rumble, but didn’t object.

The behemoth took the lead on the search, stalking down the street. Even the hardened outlaws of Tumba gave him one look and knew to stay out of his way, stepping aside so that he could pass.

Stephan trailed behind.

“You really don’t like me, do you?” he asked.

Kurko blew out a long, frosty breath. “No, I really don’t.”

Kurko stopped by a vendor and asked for information about Kazzul. The vendor kept pointing to his tatty collection of pornographic material and urged the behemoth to buy something, so Kurko gave him a small bribe. That got the little man talking endlessly. Sadly, it was all made-up nonsense, and they walked away none the wiser.

“I get it, you know,” Stephan said, jogging to keep step with the big man. “Concordian, all that. Can’t be trusted. So, is there anything I can do to put your mind at ease? There must be something. Torch is a Concordian, too, after all, and you don’t seem to have a problem with him.”

“Torch might be one arm short, but he’s got twice the spine you do,” Kurko grumbled. “I don’t like the man, but I’d trust him to watch the captain’s back. You, on the other hand…” He glanced back and scoffed. “I’d be surprised if you last another week.”

Stephan smiled at that. “Cool. I’ll be happy to surprise you.”

They kept asking locals if they had seen any trace of Kazzul the previous night, working their way outward in circles from the bar. Unsurprisingly, the people were exceedingly unhelpful, bribes or not.

Stephan stopped to ask a woman who was smoking outside her house if she had seen Kazzul.

“Hi, guys,” came a voice from above. “Much luck?”

Stephan looked up and found Yin dangling from the roof by one hand.

“Yin…” he said. “You were supposed to—”

“Got bored,” Yin said. She dropped to the ground, causing the woman on her porch to nearly swallow her cigarette.

“How did you even get off the ship?” Stephan asked. “Taira was supposed to look after you.”

Yin shrugged. “I could outfox her in my sleep.”

“Okay, little lady, fun’s over,” Kurko said as he clomped over. He grasped the back of her bright-pink tank top between thumb and forefinger and lifted her easily into the air. He hoisted her up to face level and stared intently into her eyes. “We’re taking you back to the ship, and you’re going to stay put.”

Yin hissed and swatted uselessly at Kurko’s face, her arms too short to reach him. “Let me down, creep! If you don’t, I’ll put my foot so far up your ass you’ll taste yesterday’s dinner!”

“No chance of that, I’m afraid.”

“But it’s my Najun! I should get to choose!”

“The captain did say that time was of the essence,” Stephan cut in. “Taking her back to the ship would take a while. I suppose if it’s what she wants, we might as well bring her along. Worst case, she’s another set of eyes.”

Kurko stared at the girl for a long moment, huffed twin spouts of winter breath from his nostrils, and let her go. She did a backflip as she fell and landed deftly, a huge grin on her face.

“Nice,” she said.

“Don’t get into trouble,” Kurko said, looming over her, “or I will toss you in the sea.”

Yin offered him a thumbs up.

After some additional searching, they found a dock worker who claimed to be familiar with Kazzul and who knew Stephan by name, supposedly a casual drinking buddy of the lubbard. He claimed that he had seen Kazzul late last night with Stephan in tow, heading west.

“The Pleasure District is out that way,” Kurko commented. “We’re getting closer.”

Having come across at least one scrap of a lead, they reconvened with the others at the bar and explained to the captain what they had heard.

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Quintilla said while juggling a pair of sharp-looking knives. “That matches what we heard in here. A couple of the guys say they were on a piss break when they overheard Kazzul bragging that he was going to, and I quote, ‘Prove his friend’s mettle at the finest brothel in all of Tumba’.”

Quintilla flicked the blades into the air with grand flourishes, sticking her tongue between her teeth. Stephan made sure to stand back a healthy distance.

“So, what does that mean?” Stephan asked, clearing his throat.

“He could only be referring to one place,” Kurko said.

“The Shirzuit,” he, Torch, and Quintilla said all at once.

“It’s known for having the most talented girls in Aiyek,” Quintilla clarified. She collected her knives and stuck them back through her belt. “A particular favorite of our pilot’s, when he can afford it. No wonder he chose to go there, especially if he might have been able to weasel you into paying.”

Stephan immediately checked his pockets and found that he was a good chunk lighter. He cursed Kazzul under his breath.

Quintilla clapped her hands together. “Alright, guys, we have a plan of action. If we’re lucky, we might be able to fish our pilot out of some whore’s sheets.”