Murkburg was a dying town.

Oh, it looked the same as it had the day before. People moved about on their business, talking quietly as they did. Hammers and saws rang from Niha’s feed store, where workers labored to slowly rebuild the place. A few children ran in the streets, dodging the occasional wagon rolling along through the dust. In Shina’s people still drank and gambled, and the girls still called out from their balcony.

It wasn’t the same, though, and everyone knew it. The town’s days were numbered, one way or another. If the marshal was right about Whitestone, soon enough, the trains would pass through without stopping, and the wagoneers would realize they could cart their lumber from Grimbark south to the Sonkhee without needing to pay Murkburg’s tariffs and shipping fees. Everyone seemed to know it, and the desperation in their attempts to keep things normal was almost palpable.

That wasn’t the real reason Murkburg was dying, though. The real reason sat in a chair, staring into space, his eyes seeing nothing. In a way, Murkburg was an expression of Sheriff Ramka’s will, his desire to make a place out in the Gistal that was safe and peaceful. Now, that will seemed broken, shattered by the loss of the man’s prized pet, and without the sheriff, Murkburg was going to vanish one way or another.

After the train pulled out of town, I carried the sheriff into his office and laid him down in his bed in the back. Afterward, I sat down and pulled up my waiting notification.

You have 6,214 unassigned XP

These XP may be assigned to the following Professions:

Herder, Bender, Trainer

“Where did that come from, Sara?” I asked curiously.

“Defeating the marshal’s assistants,” she replied. “I also managed to funnel a little bit of energy away from the marshal, but that all went into your Inquisitor profession. It was only 104 points, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Didn’t I get more from beating Paisley?” I asked curiously. “Were the assistants really weaker than her?”

“No, but that rune the marshal used stole a lot of their bond energy, so I couldn’t get it all. It’s still enough to level all three classes up – or to rank up your Bloodbeak.”

“We don’t have time for that,” I shook my head. “We need to head north, to Whitestone, to see what happened there, and that means I need to get some supplies – and figure out transportation. How much money do we have?”

“137 taans,” she replied promptly. “Or one sonat and twelve taans.”

“Really? It doesn’t feel like that much.”

“Well, it’s not all in taans. You’ve got most of it in pitals, with just a few taans left over. If you wanted, you could probably exchange some of those pitals for silver chands, too, and have less to carry.”

“No. Smaller currency is more useful, unless you need to make large purchases.” I quickly split my XP up among my professions and read through the resulting notifications.

Profession: Herder has gained a level!

New Level: 3

For each level of Herder, you gain:

Dominia, Intuition, Vigor +1, 1 Skill Point

Profession: Bender has gained a level!

New Level: 3

For each level of Bender, you gain:

Arcania, Reason, Skill +1, 1 Skill Point

Profession: Trainer has gained a level!

New Level: 3

For each level of Trainer, you gain:

Personia, Charm, Prowess +1, 1 Skill Point

“So, how many skill points is that now?” I asked Sara.

“Twenty-seven.”

I sighed. “This is getting ridiculous. How many points would I need to bring all my pet skills to the Savant rank?”

“Twenty. That would bring all three to Savant 1.”

I was tempted. I was sorely tempted, in fact, but I closed my notifications and left my burgeoning skill points alone. I knew that I’d need to rank those skills up at some point, but they’d each gone up a couple levels in the last week on their own. Every level I could earn naturally was a skill point I didn’t need to spend, and honestly, I just wasn’t at a place where I needed those skills at that level. I just hated the idea of those unused points floating around, but unlike XP, the skill points weren’t going anywhere. The smart move was to wait until I needed them. If I’d had enough skill points to bring my Knives or Unarmed Combat skills to the Master rank when I fought the Maresol back in Soluminos, I might not have had to poison myself with voidling venom to beat them.

Gathering supplies was easy enough. Manasi’s store had most of what I needed, and Manasi himself told me the easiest way to get to Whitestone – and apparently, the only way.

“There are no caravans heading there in the next week,” the slim, handsome storekeeper told me, touching the violet hair he always kept pulled into a bun behind his head. “It’s either walk or buy a roadwalker.”

“How much does a roadwalker cost?” I asked dubiously.

“You can get a decent one for ten pitals from Bibhav at the stables,” he shrugged. “Don’t let him try to sell you an ‘excellent’ one, though. It’s just a regular beast that he’s spent a bit more time grooming.” He shook his head. “And you’ll do better buying a saddle and bags from me. I’ll give you a brand new one for only two pitals.”

“I know all about brand-new saddles, Manasi,” I chuckled. “I’ll take a broken-in one, thanks. I prefer to be able to walk at the end of the day.”

“Bah. Fine. One pital.”

“Let me check and see what Bibhav’s offering, first,” I replied. “He might be willing to cut the price of the roadwalker if I’m buying tack from him as well.”

Bibhav was not, in fact, willing to lower the price of the roadwalker; in fact, he wanted about double what Manasi suggested was a good price.

“Everyone will be wanting one soon, Nayik,” the round-faced, perpetually sweating man said a bit apologetically. “They’ll be looking to get out of Murkburg before the Gold Diamond agent arrives.”

“They won’t be leaving by roadwalker, though, Bibhav,” I pointed out. “They’ll take the next train or boat, instead. Going overland is dangerous, after all.”

“True, true, but there will be wagons, and those will need roadwalkers, Nayik! Demand is about to rise, and I can’t part with one cheaply.” He wiped at his face with a dirty rag, but gleaming sweat sprang back the moment the rag left his skin. It looked like a lost cause to me, but I didn’t think it was my place to tell him that.

“And if demand doesn’t rise? Or it doesn’t rise enough for you to get rid of your stock?” I shook my head. “Bibhav, you’ve got twelve animals here. Do you really think they’re all going to sell? Better to take a fair price for one now than get nothing for it later.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “You sound like that marshal,” he said accusingly. “Someone might think you were working with him!”

“You mean the one I chased off by shooting him in the head repeatedly?” I asked archly. “That marshal?”

“Well, yes, there’s that,” he admitted, settling down. He let out a sigh. “Fine. But only one of the weaker ones, the ones that no one would want to pull a wagon.”

“As long as it’s not so weak it collapses beneath me,” I said mildly. “I wouldn’t like that, Bibhav, and I would have to come back here and explain to you how much I didn’t like that. That wouldn’t make either of us happy.”

He swallowed hard, his face growing pale and if anything, even sweatier. He nodded quickly. “Yes, yes. I never sell inferior beasts, Nayik. Never! No one has ever accused me of cheating them!”

“Glad to hear it,” I said wryly.

In the end, I got a roadwalker, a decent saddle, tack, and a pair of used saddlebags. I used my Analyze rune on the roadwalker just to be sure it was decent.

Roadwalker

Lesser Prey Type

Attack: 4 Defense: 6 Damage: 3

Speed: 18 Dodge: 8 Heal: 8

“It looks to be in good condition, John. Those stats are typical for a Lesser Prey type.”

The next morning, I woke to find the sheriff sitting in his front office, staring off into space. He remained silent as he watched me making my preparations, including taking some ammo for the rifle and much better revolver I’d taken from the marshal’s deputies or assistants or whatever they were. I thought about taking a shotgun, as well, but I thought that might be pushing things a bit. Besides, I didn’t have much need for a shotgun; if I wanted to hunt birds, I had my bloodbeak, and that was about the only use I might have for that sort of weapon.

“You know, I don’t much blame you for leaving,” he finally spoke up, startling me.

“What?” I asked, turning to look at him. The sheriff didn’t meet my eyes, but I could see that his were red-rimmed and swollen.

“I said, I don’t much blame you for leaving,” he shrugged. “What with Gold Diamond coming here, and me not being able to do much about it, it’s smart to get out.”

“I’m not exactly ‘getting out’, Sheriff,” I told him. “I’m heading north because that’s the way the marshal went.”

He nodded. “Thinking about taking him up on his offer? He’s right; you’d make a hell of a marshal.”

“Hell, no,” I snorted. “I’m thinking about shooting him in the face a few times – or feeding him to my bonecrusher.”

He finally raised his eyes to look at me, his gaze curious. “You ain’t really thinking about going after that man, are you, boy?” he asked. “He’ll kill you, sure as shitting.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But yeah, I’m going after him. I have to.”

“Have to?” he echoed, his gaze thoughtful. His eyes suddenly widened, and he straightened in his chair. “Son of a bitch! You do work for the railroads! I knew it, you lying sack of…”

“I don’t work for the railroads, Sheriff,” I cut him off. “I do have a job to do, though, and I’m pretty sure the marshal is part of it. That’s why I have to go after him. I need to know what the hell he’s doing, and maybe put a stop to it.”

“What he’s doing? Boy, I can tell you that. He got a shitload of sonats from Gold Diamond to come here and take my Parri, leaving the town defenseless so they can move in!” The man’s voice grew angrier the more he spoke, until he practically bit off his words. “That’s what he’s doing!”

I shook my head, but I didn’t argue. He wouldn’t want to hear that I was pretty sure the marshal had come to Murkburg just for Parri, and nothing else. I didn’t know if Gold Diamond was really involved or not, but if they were, it didn’t make sense for them to buy Murkburg after shutting down Whitestone and taking away half the reason for the town to exist. I’d be shocked if their promised agent actually showed up; I had a feeling the marshal’s words were just to scare the townsfolk away and let the place die out on its own.

“Well, I’m going to find out,” I said in return. “Like I said, I have a job to do.”

“I wish you luck, but you’re going to die,” he shook his head. “Hell, you don’t even know who you’re going after, do you?”

“Nope. I don’t. I’ll figure it out, though.”

He snorted. “Figure it out?” He leaned forward. “Boy, that there was Marshal Kamath, Marshal Lightning Fist Kamath! That name mean anything to you?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know him,” I pointed out.

“I lied to piss him off.” He barked a short laugh and leaned back. “You know about the Marshals?” I shook my head. “Then you ain’t got no business going after one, and that’s that.”

“Or you could tell me about them, and I could decide if it’s my business. You know, since you seem to know all about them.”

“All about them? Hell, nobody but the Marshals knows all about them.” He shook his head. “You know that Na Jhauta is where the Sarjay Empire first settled here in Mukkal, right?” I nodded. “Leastways you know something, you damn fool. Well, Na Jhauta was first, but the Empire, it didn’t get so big by just sitting on its ass. Didn’t take long for it to spread west, into the Ohr Valley, and even out here into the Gistal.

“You remember how I told you about the Sapphire Guardian, and how the Ohr Valley declared its independence afterward?” I nodded again, and he continued. “Well, just cause the Ohrans said it don’t mean the Empire heard it. Sarjay still believes that the Ohr Valley and the Gistal belong to them, and they call this the ‘Gistal Territory’.”

“What does this have to do with Marshals?” I asked a little tiredly.

“I’m getting there, boy. You need to understand that Na Jhauta still thinks of this area as theirs, and they’d probably send an army to make that clear to everyone except for the Kazar Republic’s navy. The Kazari have the best damn ships in the world, and they’ve got a shit-ton of them. The Ohrans contracted with the Republic to keep the Empire out of the Nadish River, which is the heart of the valley. The Neta of Fazil, the ruler of that city, did the same thing, and that means the Empire can’t land troops here. They’d have to march them the long way, north of Lake Badjhee and along the Uttar Forest, or through the Ohr Pass. Either way would take years and cost them too many lives to make it worth it.”

He shrugged. “So, instead, they created the Marshals. Each marshal is a highly trained and talented handler, and the Marshals make sure their people get the best pets they can for their paths and affinities. They’ve got tons of resources to make top-notch runes, and they get the finest gear.” He gestured at the pistol on my belt. “Like that piece you’ve got there. It looks like Chada manufacture from the grip, but that’s a carbon-steel Galati barrel, and a Havalar cylinder. Custom-made, each part as close to perfect as they could make it. Everything the Marshals carry is like that.”

He sighed. “Each marshal is a law unto himself – or herself. They’re assigned a region, and inside that region, they’re supposedly judge, jury, and executioner.” He snorted. “Of course, realistically, that ain’t the case. The Ohran cities don’t recognize a marshal’s authority, and out here in the Gistal, well, the law’s whatever each town makes it. Nobody asks a marshal for their opinion, and nobody listens when one gets offered either.”

“So, they’re the law in a place where they have no authority?” I asked dubiously. “What’s the point, then?”

“They ain’t the law, boy,” he said darkly, his voice angry. “They’re nothing buy Sarjan agents, out here to represent the Empire’s interests. They don’t care about right or wrong, or what’s legal or illegal. They’re killers, nothing more, nothing less. Killers who wear a damn badge to make them feel like they’re justified in what they do. They say they work for the Empire, but they take money from the corporations to burn down homesteads, arrange accidents, and kill people the companies want dead.”

He slammed his hand down on his desk. “And Lightning Hands is the worst of the lot! All marshals are corrupt, but that man’s got a reputation for nastiness wider than the Nadish River! He’s killed a hundred professional duelists, even when the duel weren’t to the death. He likes to give people to his pets to play with, make their deaths take a long time.” He shook his head. “And that’s the man you’re planning on going after, boy. A man whose better trained, better equipped, and has a shit-ton more experience than you. A man who can call on the entire resources of the Empire if he needs to.”

“A man who needs killing,” I added quietly. The sheriff fell silent, and I looked at him seriously. “Sometimes, sheriff, a person just needs to die. It sounds like this Marshal Kamath is way up on the list of those. I don’t know if I’ll be the one to do it – I don’t know if it’ll be necessary – but I have a feeling he’s not going to give me much of a choice.”

He snorted again and looked back down at the floor. “I’d wish you luck, but I don’t think it’ll matter.”

I shrugged. “Maybe not, but I’m going to at least try.”

His head shot up. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean, boy?” he demanded.

“It’s not supposed to mean anything,” I replied calmly.

“It damn well better not! I’ll have you know, I’ve been keeping men like that out of this town for thirty years, boy. Longer than you’ve been alive, I’ll bet! I’ve killed marshals and assassins and murderers who came to Murkburg looking for blood and death, more than you can probably imagine. Do you even know what it’s like to kill a man, boy?”

“Yes,” I said simply, looking him in the eyes. As I did, I let my façade drop away, let the old numbness and indifference flow over me. For a moment, I let the Faceless Man resurface, and the sheriff looked into the eyes of a merciless killer. He stared at me in silence for long seconds, and his anger seemed to fade away, replaced with curiosity and a little fear.

“Yeah. I can see you do.” He shook his head. “Who the hell are you, boy?”

“Does it matter?” I asked, pushing the Faceless Man back down inside myself, hiding him in the recesses of my soul where he waited to be unleashed once more. “What’s important is that I’m going after the marshal – and I intend to get him.” I hesitated. “You know, I could use some help. Someone who knows the Gistal, who could help train me to be a better handler.”

“Nope,” the old man shook his head. “Not me, boy. Murkburg’s my home, and I’m staying right here.”

“Even if doing so will hurt the people you’re trying to protect?” I asked softly.

He looked at me sharply. “Hurt them? What do you mean?”

“Sheriff, you have a reputation,” I sighed. “You doubtless have enemies, and there have to be a dozen young handlers who’d love to be able to say they were the one who took you down. Once word gets out that Parri’s gone – and it will – you’ll have bounty hunters, bandits, vigilantes, and plain, old murderers coming here looking for you.”

“I’ll deal with them,” he said with a shrug. “There’s ways to beat a handler, even without a pet.”

“Maybe, but I’ll bet those ways are messier, more dangerous, and more likely to hurt bystanders in the process.” I shrugged. “And what if Gold Diamond comes? You know they’ll be bringing handlers. Are you willing to risk destroying the town just so you can stay a few weeks longer?”

“You think I don’t know all this?” he snapped at me. “I know that once word gets out, I’m a dead man! I know that Gold Diamond’ll probably send a couple bounty hunters who’ll want to take my head and mount it on a display somewhere! It don’t matter; Murkburg’s my home, and here’s where I’m staying.”

“That’s up to you, Sheriff,” I sighed. “I can’t tell you what to do.” I caught his gaze and gave him a serious look. “I can tell you, though, that I haven’t found many things worth dying for that aren’t better served by living.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, startled.

“I mean, you lost Parri, not the ability to be a handler. And leaving here doesn’t mean abandoning it. Maybe when we find the marshal, we’ll find Parri, and you’ll be able to bond her again. Maybe you’ll find something else worth bonding, instead. I don’t know, but it seems to me that a chance to come back and reclaim this place is better than dying in the street to some hotshot who wants to make a name for himself.” I shrugged.

“Of course, it’s not up to me. You’re the one that has to live with your choices, Sheriff – or die with them.”

I turned my back on him and walked out the door, heading for Shina’s. I needed a drink or three, and maybe the distraction of a card game. I had a feeling the next day was going to be a long one.