3. challenge (fatal) - dragon vs. self, Chalce
TW: violence, murder, decapitation
Most business in Ravenbarrow happened at night; its inhabitants tended to sleep late. At least, that was what Ayers snapped out when Rahman and Anaster got up early and started making noise while she remained in bed. But soon after, as Chalce was putting his boots on, an urgent knock came at their door.
Ayers grumbled and sat up as Anaster opened the door -- and then a young pearlcatcher pushed past him, calling, “Chalce? Chalce?”
Chalce dropped his second boot. “Filmarya?”
The other pearlcatcher ran to him and threw her arms around his neck; for a second Rahman thought she was trying to strangle him before he recognized a tight hug. In the second before she buried her face in Chalce’s shoulder Rahman registered how disheveled and wild-eyed she was.
After a moment she pulled away, her furious expression at odds with her previous embrace. “How could you?”
“Um, what?” Chalce blinked, stared, and seemed to gather himself. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“I’m not stupid, Chalce. I knew the money wasn’t legal, but I didn’t think you’d do something like this.” Filmarya might have been small for a pearlcatcher, and wearing a pink dress with little flowers embroidered on the hem, but she had a very intimidating glare. “You can’t just move to Ravenbarrow! Do you know how dangerous -- if the law catches you -- and Mother would just die of shame -- ”
“I’m doing this for you,” Chalce said, helplessly.
“And I’m telling you to come home!”
From her bed, Ayers clicked her tongue, reminding the two pearlcatchers that there were, in fact, other dragons in the room. “I wouldn’t recommend that. I got the impression that the Whisperweb doesn’t exactly do generous retirement packages.”
“That’s right.” Chalce’s eyes widened, fear sparking within. Filmarya, meanwhile, looked more puzzled than afraid; Rahman could see that the name
Whisperweb meant nothing to her. She might have tracked Chalce to Ravenbarrow, but she knew little of its secrets. Chalce gripped her arms. “You can’t
be here, Fil, it’s too dangerous. You have to go home right now. I’ll walk you home, but then -- maybe I’ll be able to visit you, maybe I won’t, but it’s for your own safety. You can’t come here again.”
Filmarya shook her head. “You shouldn’t be here at all, and I’m not leaving unless you come home with me -- for good. The money doesn’t matter, the school doesn’t matter -- we just want you home. Mother’s heartbroken, after you left us with just a note, and it would be even worse if she knew you were out here living a life of crime. It would just kill her!”
In the background, Ayers snorted, probably at Filmarya’s somewhat maudlin phrasing. But the emotion behind her words was clearly genuine, and Chalce hesitated.
“I can’t just leave, Fil. The people I’m involved with, they wouldn’t take that well. I didn’t come here because I wanted to, exactly; they said they’d call the guard if I refused.”
Filmarya shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We can leave town, go into hiding -- I don’t care, as long as you’re with us, instead of off in Ravenbarrow, doing gods-know-what.”
“Your school -- ”
A laugh, high-pitched with stress. “I already quit school. I can’t keep going there on stolen tuition, anyway -- it’s not right. You can’t just take whatever you want. If -- if you don’t come with me, I’ll call the guard myself.”
“No!” Chalce grabbed Filmarya’s shoulders, more roughly than he’d probably intended, and she looked at him in shock. “Fine, I’ll come with you -- ”
“And that’s what I was waiting to hear.” The door opened again and in stepped a tall, skinny pearlcatcher with scaled arms, a mask over his face, and -- most significantly -- a large, well-used cleaver resting on his shoulder. Rahman knew him; he’d been there when Rahman had thrown himself on the Whisperweb’s mercy. His name was Talise, and he ranked considerably higher in the web than any of them.
Chalce released his sister and stepped in front of her, putting himself between Filmarya and Talise as Talise crossed the room. Anaster made an abortive move forward, as if to intervene; Talise looked at him, and he settled back with a grimace.
“You did a good job tracking your brother down,” Talise said, to Filmarya. “Or he did a bad job covering his tracks, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Why don’t you come work for us too? We always have use for a smart young thing like you.”
“No,” Chalce breathed. He leaned forward. “Please, I only said I’d go to get rid of her -- ”
“I would rather die,” Filmarya said, head tilted proudly upwards, “than become a filthy criminal like you.”
Talise shrugged. “OK.”
Chalce got between the first slash and Filmarya, and then stared at the bloody gash across his torso while Filmarya screamed.
“How stupid,” Talise said, twirling the cleaver in his wrist -- sending droplets of blood sprinkling across Chalce’s bed. “That’s what we get for recruiting in Cabbage Park, I guess.”
“You don’t have to kill them,” Anaster said, making a single step forward, while Filmarya held Chalce up, sobbing. He was still breathing, raggedly; still awake, even. “I think he’s learned his lesson -- I think they both have. They won’t cross you again.”
“Are you willing to guarantee that?” Talise said, sounding curious.
Anaster looked the masked pearlcatcher in the eye. “Yes.”
“Huh. OK.” Talise pointed his cleaver at Anaster. “Either of them step out of line again -- assuming the boy survives -- it’s your hide on the line along with theirs.”
And then Filmarya lowered Chalce to his bed and threw herself at Talise with a furious scream, magic pulsing around her hands, eyes sparking pink. Talise cut her down without hesitation; her head fell one way, her body another. Rahman saw red for a moment, nothing but red, and the whisper of a woman’s hair, and then when he came back to himself, Chalce was dead too: he’d tried to attack Talise as well. Not very effectively, Rahman suspected, given the shape he’d been in, but perhaps he considered such a death better than outliving his sister.
“What a waste.” Talise wiped his blade on Chalce’s bedding, then looked at Chalce’s former colleagues. Ayers looked queasy; Anaster wide-eyed but otherwise expressionless. Rahman would not venture to guess what expression he himself wore. “Well, I hope this has been an educational experience for you three. I’ll do you a favor and have your landlord clean up the mess.”
The Whisperweb: Jackal Pack 
