Including the Eyeless? Did the agents have more information on the gang than the Grand Guard?
Then Daud saw the injured witch appear behind the man and the woman, who seemed oblivious to her presence.
No! Daud needed to question them, find out anything they might know about the Eyeless and their hideout.
And that meant saving their lives.
Daud stood, counting his own heartbeats until the witch was directly below him, and stepped off the ledge. He transversed without thinking, rematerializing directly on top of the witch. She screamed as he drove his blade into her neck and pulled it to one side, nearlydecapitating her. Thick, viscous black blood poured out of the wound, coating his heavy leather gloves. Again, lines of fire streaked along her back and shoulders as the strange marks burned away. Daud grimaced as the stench of rotten, decaying vegetation assailed his senses. He sidestepped, swinging her body in front of him as he saw the two agents spin around and raise their guns.
Multiple shots rang out and the witch’s body shuddered as the bullets hit. Ammunition spent, Daud dropped the smoking body and moved toward the agents, materializing close enough to grab their gun arms and yank them down. The man yelped in surprise and with his free hand reached for another pistol holstered on his right hip—only for that arm to be suddenly grabbed and pulled away by some unknown force. Daud dived to the other side, dragging the woman with him, as her companion was flung into the air, caught in the thorned tendrils of blood briar. Looking up, Daud saw a figure standing on the left-side stairs behind the desk—the third witch, the blood briars streaming out from her outstretched arms.
The woman pushed Daud aside and stood, pulling two fresh pistols from inside her jacket. She strode forward, firing at the blood briar that held her companion as she moved, her expression one of icy determination. The tendril exploded, sending wet, rank plant material flying, but no sooner had the bullets torn the putrid flesh than it resealed itself, the shredded fibers re-weaving back into the main structure.
The witch—the third one, with the bundle? No, this was another—vanished from the stairs and reappeared within striking distance of the woman, who was completely unaware of the danger. Daud pushed himself to his feet and transversed across the space, appearing behind thewitch. Sensing his presence, she spun around fast, her claws already slicing the air.
But he was faster. He ducked and, anticipating her next move, turned and moved just a few yards backward as the witch did the same. She disappeared in a puff of nothing and reappeared right in front of Daud, rematerializing around the blade he held out.
The witch wailed, staring down at the knife she had impaled herself on. Daud pushed the blade home, lifting the witch off her feet and shoving her back until she hit one of the bookcases that lined the office walls.
He stared into her eyes, his fingers wrapped tight around the knife’s grip, until they went dull. Then he stepped back, leaving her lifeless body skewered against the wood, the witch’s feet dangling inches from the floor. He staggered, exhausted, the Mark of the Outsider on fire on his hand, his muscles and mind robbed of energy.
Oh, for a vial of Piero’s Spiritual Remedy.
He heard a safety catch pull back, and he turned around. The woman’s twin silver guns were both pointed at his face.
Daud spread his hands. He had no energy to escape, not anymore. He focused on his breathing, began calculating the odds and planning his next move. He couldn’t draw on the Mark of the Outsider for a while, but he could still fight.
The woman’s face was a dark scowl. And then she reset the safety catch on both guns, and lowered them. She and Daud stared at each other for a moment, then the woman spoke.
“Daud,” she said, “we’ve been looking for you.”
He frowned. “Why?”
The woman turned, heading back to the man, who was now lying on the floor, pulling the dead, sticky mess of the blood briar off himself.
“Because we know you’ve been looking for the Twin-bladed Knife. And we can help you find it.”
Daud’s breath caught in his throat.
“But first,” said the woman as she knelt by her companion and looked over her shoulder, “a little help, if you would be so kind?”
25
PROTECTORS’ LEAGUE SAFE HOUSE, AVENTA DISTRICT, KARNACA
23rd Day, Month of Harvest, 1852
“And I say to you, brothers, it is here that we make our stand as a righteous force against the growing darkness. It is here that we unite against the spirits of the unknown that would drag us screaming into the night, never to return to our homes, to our families! Together we will serve as a rod to those who would stray from the herd, to the foggy gray wastes of the Outsider. We will burn a bright fire with our virtuous actions so that others will not lose their way. And to those who choose to wander, beyond the walls of our homes, in far places, we will strike at them swiftly before they whisper to their neighbors, filling their hearts with strangeness and doubt.”
—LITANY ON THE WHITE CLIFF
Extract from the primary text of the Abbey of the Everyman
Daud followed the strange couple as they led him across Karnaca, heading west through alleyways and backstreets that even he didn’t know existed. The pairdid not appear to be natives of the city, or even of the country, but then Daud knew you didn’t need to be born in a place to learn its secrets. He had known Dunwall better than most of its inhabitants, after all.
Their destination was a long, low building in the Aventa District, the structure perched on the edge of
