Dreamer's Throne

“Where is Ryn?” Garrett asked quietly, his voice low and dangerous.

Obe, who was seated next to him, froze at the dangerous tone Garrett was using.

“I… I’m not sure, boss. She went to see Carraway this morning, but I expected her back.”

Hearing a murmur rising, Garrett lifted his hand and closed his eyes, letting himself sink deep into his mind and the connections that he shared with all those who carried dream flowers. It was as if he floated in a sea of stars, each one of varying strength and brightness. The brightest collection of them were next to him, gathered together in the inn’s great room, while the single strongest was deep underground in the catacombs under the city, roaming in the north with hundreds of fainter lights. All of these were ignored as Garrett focused on a particular connection that he knew all too well.

With growing worry, Garrett found himself unable to find it, and the fury that began to kindle in his heart surprised him. He had not realized that he could feel such heat, but right now he was growing so angry that he nearly lost control. Taking a deep breath, he worked to bring his surging emotions under control and stopped his frantic search as he thought about it carefully. Suddenly, a thought came to him and he began to search again, but this time through the memories that had drifted along his connections throughout the day.

The dream flowers constantly sent images and feelings back to him, and though most of them were worthless, as long as it hadn’t been too long, Garrett could go back and review them at will. It was this he now relied on, immersing himself in the memories from the day. Particularly, he focused on the images that Ryn had sent him, and soon he caught sight of her infectious attitude as she spoke to him and then as she went to speak to the merchant, Carraway. With bated breath, he kept watching until he saw Ryn walking out of the merchant’s office. A moment later, as she walked through an alleyway, everything suddenly went dark and Garrett found himself experiencing the inside of a black bag.

She was kidnapped? Who on earth would… oh. The Black Raven. They must have found her and kidnapped her after she came out of Carraway’s office. She’s not dead, otherwise I’d have felt it. But it seems that they are using something to hide her presence from me. It must be the same thing they used to hide themselves, which is why we haven’t had any luck finding their hideout. But I have a way out of the city now, so I guess it’s time to get in touch.

Opening his eyes, Garrett took a deep breath and relaxed, smiling at the tense people around him. His abrupt mood swings had unsettled the gangs awakened, who were all sitting at the table with him so he quickly explained the situation.

“Ryn’s been kidnapped. I believe I know who kidnapped her, and why they did, and I have a plan for rescuing her.”

Dumbfounded silence shrouded the table as everyone just stared at Garrett, trying to process what he had said. Maximus, never one for keeping his thoughts to himself, nudged Helger with his elbow.

“Hey, did he just figure all that out between when he asked where she was and now? It’s been like ten seconds.”

“Two minutes and forty seconds,” Garrett replied, causing Maximus to flinch. “And no, I didn’t come up with all of it just now. I already had this plan, and I’m just putting it into action now. Let’s have our meeting, and I’ll explain everything afterward.”

Nodding, Obe got up and banged on the table, drawing everyone’s attention while Garrett moved himself back from the table so that Abbius and Obe could put him on top of it. Just as he was about to begin speaking to the watching men and women, there was a banging on the door and he stopped, frowning.

“Should we ignore it?” Helger asked, pushing herself back from the table and turning toward the door.

Thanks to the dream flowers and the gang members at the door, Garrett could see what was happening, and he shook his head.

“No, go welcome our guests. Obe, I think we will have to postpone our meeting. We can address the opportunities later, in smaller groups.”

As Garrett was talking, he gestured for Obe and Abbius to help him down from the table and then turned to face the dangerous looking group of people who walked into the room. All of them wore the black and gray of the Grave Walkers, and of the twenty men who came, at least five of them were awakened. The others were all large, muscular, and carried their weapons in plain view, but the person who caught Garrett’s attention was the woman at the front of the group.

For a moment, he thought she might have been the necromancer he was after, but when she swung her head around to scan the room, he saw a jagged scar that had torn through her bottom lip, turning it into a mangled mess. She strode into the great room like she owned the inn, and whenever anyone met her gaze, she glared them down. As she was a powerful awakened, that tactic worked just fine until she got to the table in the center of the room. There she saw ten awakened staring back at her and her gaze widened slightly, clearly surprised.

Finally, her eyes settled on Gavon, formerly the leader of Delver’s Butchers, and now a lieutenant of the Klein Family. She stomped her way over to him, her flame red hair bouncing above her shoulders, and stopped when she was right in front of him.

“I’ve been looking for you, Gavon.”

“Why’s that Cynen?”

“You’ve been skipping out on the meeting that I’ve been asking for, and I finally got fed up. Get up, we’re going back to my place to have a friendly conversation.”

“If it’s friendly, you should have it here, among his friends,” Garrett said, causing Cynen’s dark gaze to shift toward him.

“If I need the opinion of a cripple, I’ll ask for it,” Cynen sneered.

With a bang, every single person in the room apart from Garrett stood up, glaring at the red-headed woman, who just laughed.

“Whoa, touchy much? Am I wrong?”

No one answered Cynen, despite the anger on their faces, and Garrett just let out a sigh as he wheeled his chair forward, accompanied by a soft squeak from one of his wheels. Somehow, the sound echoed in the room, feeling unnaturally loud and causing surprising discomfort in the Grave Walkers who had come in. When he was in front of Cynen, Garrett smiled politely and introduced himself.

“My name is Garrett Klein. I am the leader of the Klein family. You must be the famed leader of the Grave Walker gang. They call you Death’s Flame, right?”

“I already said, Garrett, that my business is with Gavon, not you. Get out of the way.”

“Gavon is already part of our family. Therefore, any business with him, is business with us. Sit down and we can discuss things peaceably, or leave. Those are the two options.”

“I don’t like either option,” Cynen’s sneer grew more pronounced. “What if I decide that I want the third option?”

“Then each year, on this day, those of your gang members who survive will light incense in your memory.”

Garrett spoke so calmly that Cynen had trouble reconciling the naked threat that he had just issued. That gap only grew harder for her to bridge when Garrett gestured to the well stocked bar.

“Would you like a drink? I’ve found that few things can’t be solved over a glass of wine and a good conversation. Obe, would you have everyone give us some space? I think the tables are still set up in the yard. Why don’t you serve our friends some beer?”

“Yes, boss.”

The rest of the members of the Klein Family started to go out into the yard, taking their drinks with them, as Obe and most of the other awakened escorted the Grave Walkers outside, leaving Gavon, Garrett, Cynen, and a heavily bearded man who appeared to be Cynen’s lieutenant. Francis brought over some bottles of wine and then began filling mugs to take outside, and he was just taking the first load out when Obe came back in to sit next to Garrett. Unsure how she had gotten caught up in Garrett’s tempo, Cynen was glaring at him over her glass of wine, and after she had drained it, she was about to say something, when her lieutenant coughed and pointed toward the corner.

At some point Abbius had retreated to the corner of the room and was watching the Grave Walker gang leader with his loaded crossbow not quite pointing at her. Seeing her blanch, Garrett smiled and waved at Abbius.

“Please excuse him. He gets really nervous around crowds, and the best way to deal with it is to hold a loaded crossbow. Pay him no mind. Really, you can pretend he’s not even there. Now, where were we? Oh, right. I think you were about to explain to us why you were here to talk to Gavon. The floor is yours.”

Giving Garrett another dark look, Cynen grabbed one of the bottles of wine and sloppily filled up her cup, draining it in one long drink. Filling it up again, she put the bottle down with a thud and let her gaze wander between Gavon and Garrett.

“I find it incredibly upsetting that Delver’s Butchers abandoned decades of history to join some upstart gang that is led by a wet-behind-the-ears brat who couldn’t hold a blade if he wanted to.”

Clapping, Garrett nodded.

“Well said. It’s delightful to hear someone who is so articulate. You captured quite a lot in that sentence, but I think it will be helpful to provide some clarification. First, Delver’s Butchers have not abandoned anything, but rather, have embraced the wave of the future. They remain, both in name and spirit, and are simply a participating member of the Klein Family Syndicate. An offer, by the way, that is open to your illustrious gang as well. Second, while I am missing my right hand, I’m more than adept with my left, and besides, I have no need for blades. Rather, it is more accurate to say that I’ve got plenty of blades. And plenty of hands to use them.”

As if they had coordinated, Gavon’s hands, which had been crossed in front of his chest as he glowered at Cynen, were suddenly holding a heavy cleaver and a long filleting knife. The atmosphere grew frosty as the big bearded man started to rise, only to find himself fixed in place by two glares, one blunt and filled with violence from Obe, and the other, cold and sharp, from Abbius. Surprisingly, Cynen simply chuckled and nodded.

“Well done. Did you practice that? Is that what you do when you’re in your office playing gang leader? Come off it. We’ve been drawing blood since you were peeing on your mom’s shirt, you’re not going to scare us.”

“Shame. It would probably save us a lot of bloodshed,” Garrett said, sighing dramatically.

Rolling her eyes, Cynen looked at Gavon, her expression growing serious.

“Are you sure you want to walk this path, butcher? We can give you everything that they can give you, plus some. You’ll have to pledge your loyalty, but we promise protection, fair prices, and connections that will allow you to grow.”

Shaking his head, Gavon put his knives away and leaned his large forearms on the table.

“You say that, but if I join you, I’ll just be another one of those bottom feeding mud suckers that tag along after you, hoping for some scraps to fall from the table. I’d rather be a big fish in a smaller pond.”

“How do you like that, Mr. Klein,” Cynen said, turning her attention to Garrett. “He’s calling your gang small time.”

“Everyone’s got to start somewhere,” Garrett said, his expression pleasant. “But we’re still digging our pond, so who knows. Maybe he’s betting that he’ll end up as the big fish in a giant lake.”

“Not if you keep making moves like this,” Cynen said, all humor gone from her face. “Those of us with seats don’t take kindly to upstarts, Klein. And upstarts without the strength to back it up are the worst kind.”

“Just call me Garrett,” came the calm reply, causing Cynen’s face to twitch in anger.

“Fine. You want to do it this way, then that’s how we’ll do it. Expect to see more of us. A lot more of us.”

Pushing back from the table, Cynen stood up and suddenly grabbed her glass, flinging it at Garrett. Taken aback, he barely dodged the glass but was unable to avoid the wine that splashed across his face and shirt. A furious growl sounded from Obe, but Garrett’s hand tapped on the table sharply and he stopped stock still, half out of his seat. Still smiling, Garrett wiped the wine from his eyes with his right sleeve before looking at Cynen.

“Have a good evening.”

Without a word, the gang leader of the Grave Walkers spun on her heel and left, her bearded lieutenant following after her. As they got outside, they found their men laughing and chatting with the members of the Klein Family, and Cynen’s expression darkened even further. Seeing her growing fury, her lieutenant hurried to round up their men and they left, catching up to Cynen who had started on ahead. As they walked, the lieutenant didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to for Cynen to know what he was thinking. Swearing viciously, she turned on him with a glare.

“Call in everyone. And I mean everyone.”

“Even the Hand?” he asked in a whisper, his face pale.

“Yes. Even those lunatics. This one is going to be a real problem.”

Back in the inn, Garrett was getting cleaned up and as he toweled off his face, he caught sight of Obe’s angry face in the mirror.

“What’s the matter?”

“Why did you let her get away with disrespecting you like that?” Obe asked, his forehead furrowed.

“Because we have more important things to do at the moment,” Garrett replied, running his fingers through his hair, “and we can’t afford to be tangled up with them. I need you to go to Carraway and deliver a letter for me. Also, I need you to put the word out to be on the lookout for anyone that looks like Ryn, just in case I’m wrong.”

“Yes, boss.”

Smiling at Obe’s glum voice, Garrett shook his head and tossed the towel aside, slipping into a clean shirt.

“Don’t worry, Obe. We tolerate, but we do not forget. Remember, everything in its correct time. And when the time is correct, we will pay Cynen a visit, and we’ll bring all the incense they will need.”