Iron Quill - Ashes to Ashes - To feed the soul

[Mako]

I did contemplate a round of serious editing, but then I decided to just post this up anyway. Was originally planned to have a different focus, but it worked better this way round.

Snuck in the one armed man, 'you sure you want to do this', and the violin.

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To feed the soul

The door to the Last Light Tavern slammed back, admitting a young man with a heavy pistol slung on his hip and the faint strains of music from the street. This was sufficiently typical that none of the locals stirred much from their chairs other than to see who had entered, but a dozen hands eased back from weapons stashed close by. From the doorway, the man called out angrily.

“Where is he?” This cryptic demand got zero response, so he ostentatiously unclipped the holding strap on his holster and tried again. “I’m looking for the one armed man. Now where is he?” Quiet mutters spread across the room, silenced by a throat being cleared. In the dim recesses of the tavern, a weather-beaten man in a tattered trail coat sat forward in his chair, placing a glass of dark liquor on his table, beside a hat missing part of its brim.

“I’m guessin you’d mean me, son.” He drawled in a gravelly voice. “And I’d also guess you want me to get up out this chair, follow you outside and shoot you down like a fool. You got a name?” In the doorway, the younger man faltered. He stopped, listening to the sounds of the street for a few moments before gathering himself.

“The name’s Lias Groff. And you damn right you’re comin outside.” Sighing heavily, the old timer settled his hat on his head, and eased himself to his feet, one sleeve of his coat swinging empty. As they walked outside, Lias seemed to get more confident. They stood in the street facing each other, and the old timer spat onto the street.

“Son, you sure you want to do this?” Lias had barely opened his mouth to speak when the old timer raised a hand to silence him. He turned his head away slightly and called gruffly to an unkempt girl standing in the mouth of an alleyway playing a violin.

“If’n you don’t stop that right now, girl, I’ll shoot you instead o’ him. Your charm don’t work on me.” The girl stopped, shocked, then fled into the darkness of the alley. He turned back to the confused looking Lias, and addressed him again. “Now she’s gone, afore we get to shootin’ I should tell you my name. Captain Theophilus Hadley, retired.” He pushed the folds of his trail coat aside, and Lias recognised the weapon hanging there with a lurch of fear; an aged but well maintained peacebringer, the grip mounted blade gleaming in the dusk light. Hanging next to it on the supple leather belt was a guild badge of office with a gouge across one side of it. “So, you still sure you want this?” Theophilus asked gently. Lias stared at him glassy eyed and disoriented.

“I don’t… Yeah, I think I have to.” Theophilus shook his head sadly. His peacebringer was clear of its holster before Lias could even start to draw, and he fired without hesitation. The gunshot echoed in the silent evening and Theophilus holstered his weapon before ambling over to the prone Lias, who was clutching his bleeding leg and cursing loudly.

“Now let’s be straight son, you’re alive ‘cos this mess ain’t your fault. I hoped you’d come to your senses in time, but she got you good. So you just sit right here and I’ll go talk with the law. They got bigger problems than you tonight.” With that he walked off, leaving Lias to bleed and swear in the dirt.

A day had passed, and Theophilus was back on the street with several of the sheriff’s men at his heels. They reached the Last Light and he stopped, signalling for them to wait outside. The sound of a violin drifted through the door as he shoved it open and stepped warily through. Everyone ignored the door, which was unusual in New Fairbank. Theophilus could guess why, and another step into the tavern proved him right. Standing on a table at one side of the room was the girl from the street, playing a violin made of dark wood and chased with tarnished silver. Everyone gazed enraptured at her as the music swelled and surged around them. It set Theoplilus’ teeth on edge. He subtly signalled to the waiting deputies through the open doorway, never looking away from the girl.

“Girl, I warned you last night to stop that. Now we got a problem, you and me. And there ain’t no distraction this time.” The girl never stopped playing but gazed at Theophilus, her turquoise eyes gleaming unnaturally. “Now I don’t know that you want this any more than that fool yesterday, but Lord help me I’ll shoot you dead afore I let you run again. New Fairbank ain’t yours, you lucky the sheriff hisself didn’t feel like dealin’ with you.” The girl smiled slowly, and the music changed. It pulsed across the tavern, causing everyone to lurch to their feet, their eyes filled with hate. “Oh, God’s ashes” Theophilus swore, and drew his peacebringer. He fired, hitting the violin with a loud spang of lead on silver and knocking it from the girl’s hand. She cowered back briefly, and then scrabbled for the instrument before fleeing for the door as the tavern erupted into chaos. In the confusion, Theophilus slipped out the tavern and headed into the alleyways, catching up with the girl easily. She jabbed the sharp tipped bow into his arm, preventing him from using his pistol. With his only arm out of action, Theophilus head-butted her hard enough to knock the girl out.

Waking up in a musty room with small windows, the girl felt little except an agonised keening in her mind. Sitting across from her was the wretched man that had chased her from town to town, ruining everything. Sitting there, smiling grimly. Looking pleased that he’d taken it from her.

“Girl, I’ve chased that damned thing all over the place. You ain’t the first, but I’m makin’ sure you’ll be the last.” He pushed the girl’s head to one side, revealing a mess of scarring on the left side of her neck. “You pay the price like the rest, how long you think you can keep on like this?” The girl’s brow furrowed as she seemed to hunt for her voice.

“Forever. I will live… forever, and they will adore me always.” Theophilus could hear the scrape of strings when she spoke. She was bound to it pretty heavily, and he had no idea how to break her free. This was the first time he’d caught one alive.

“And the ones you killed?”

“I never killed anyone. But they had to die, to feed the music.” Again, he could hear the hum of strings in her words.

“No more feedin’ that thing, for you or anyone. I’m tossin’ it back into the pit it came from, along with some dynamite.” The girl looked at him in horror, but Theophilus began to realise it wasn’t from his threat. She began to twitch in her chair and the scars on her neck opened one by one, pouring blood down her side. “God’s ashes!” Theophilus yelled, leaping round the table to catch her as she slumped sideways. “Call the doctor. Now!” He shouted to the deputy that was staring through the door, shocked. The man bolted while Theophilus bound the girl’s neck with a strip of cloth. He fished a small soulstone from his coat and held it over her, crushing it in one hand. “Waste of my last stone, but I ain’t done talkin’ to you yet girl.”

The deputies watching the cell deepest in the jail were bored. This was where they stored things that needed keeping out of the way, but a violin seemed odd even by the standards of New Fairbank. Tomas picked it up carefully, turning it over a few times.

“I used to play a bit y’know, back when I was a kid” he said to the other deputy on watch. He picked up the bow and tested the point carefully, hissing as he drew blood from his fingertip. “Damn, that thing’s sharper’n a tack. Reckon I can play it?” The other deputy laughed.

“I reckon you can play it real bad, Tom. Why don’t you try it, if you aren’t scared of it stealin’ your soul?”

“Burn you, Ira, I’m not scared of some old violin. You watch, I’ll play it real sweet” He lifted the violin to his shoulder and swept the bow across the strings inexpertly. He played about four notes before he yelped and dropped the violin, clutching his neck. “Damn thing bit me! Burn this, I’m goin’ on break” Neither of them noticed the thin scar on Tomas’ neck, or the faint turquoise glow from a small glassy blade that slid back into the violin’s body. As they wandered out in search of a drink, Tomas looked back at the violin with a covetous smile, a faint turquoise gleam in his eyes.