The nightmare started when Vivargent woke.
"Good morning," Fist said. "How's my favorite little guttershite?" The glee on Fist's face told Vivargent that something was seriously wrong. Roth and Harelip stood on either side of Fist, almost bursting with excitement.
Bella was gone. Duke was gone. Elphrae was nowhere to be seen. Blinking against the sunlight streaming through the guild home's torn roof, Vivargent stood and tried to orient himself. The rest of the guild was gone, either working, scavenging, or just deciding that now would be a good time to be outside. Most probably because they'd seen Fist come in.
Roth stood by the back door, and Harelip stood behind Fist, in case Vivargent ran for the front door or a window.
"Where were you last night?" Fist asked.
"I had to piss."
"Long piss. You missed the fun." When Fist spoke like that, totally flat, no emotion in his voice, Vivargent felt a fear too deep to shiver out. Vivargent knew violence. He'd seen sailors murdered, had seen prostitutes with fresh scars, had a friend die from a vendor's beating. Cruelty walked the Ordure holding hands with poverty and rage. But the dead look in Fist's eyes marked him as more of a psycho than Harelip. Harelip had been born without part of his lip. Fist had been born without a conscience.
"What did you do?" Vivargent asked.
"Roth?" Fist lifted his chin at the big.
Roth opened the door, said, "Good boy," as if speaking to a dog, and grabbed something. He hauled it inside, and Vivargent saw that it was Duke. Duke's lips were swollen, both eyes black and so big he could barely see through the slits. He was missing teeth and he had crusted blood on his face from where his hair had been pulled so hard his scalp bled.
He was wearing a dress.
Vivargent felt hot and cold tingles on his skin, a rush of blood to his face. He couldn't show Fist weakness. He couldn't move. He turned so he wouldn't throw up.
Behind him, Duke let out a little whimper. "Azo, please. Azo, don't turn away from me. I didn't want—"
Fist struck him across the face. Duke fell to the ground and didn't move.
"Duke's mine now," Fist said. "He thinks he'll fight every night, and he will. For a while." Fist smiled. "But I'll break him. Time's on my side."
"I'll kill you. I swear it," Vivargent growled.
"Oh, are you Master Clint's apprentice now?" Fist smiled as Vivargent shot Duke a look, feeling betrayed. Duke turned his face to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he cried silently. "Duke told us all about it, sometime between Roth and Davi, I think. But I'm confused. If Master Clint apprenticed you, why are you here, Azo? You come back to kill me?"
Duke's tears stilled and he turned, grasping at straws.
Vivargent thought back to that night he tracked Master Clint down to a location, but was unable to even see a single glimpse of him before being turned away.
***
"There are secrets in this world, kid," a voice said. "Secrets like magical alarms and the identities of the Circle. If you take another step, you'll find one of those secrets. Then two nice bashers with orders to kill intruders will find you."
"Master Clint?" Vivargent searched the darkness.
"Next time you follow a man, don't be so furtive. It makes you conspicuous."
Whatever that meant, it didn't sound good. "Master Clint?"
He heard laughter up the tunnel, moving away.
Vivargent jumped to his feet, feeling his hope slip away with the fading laughter. He ran up the tunnel in the dark. "Wait!"
There was no response. Vivargent ran faster. A stone grabbed his foot and he fell roughly, skinning his knees and hands on the stone floor. "Master Clint, wait! I need to apprentice with you. Master Clint, please!"
The voice spoke just over him, though when he looked, Vivargent could see nothing. "I don't take apprentices. Go home, kid."
"But I'm different! I'll do anything. I've got money!"
But there was no response. Clint was gone.
***
Pulling his thoughts back to reality, Vivargent let out a sigh.
There was nothing to say. "He wouldn't take me," Vivargent admitted. Duke slumped.
"Everyone knows he doesn't take apprentices, stupid," Fist said. "So here's the deal, Azo. I don't know what you've done for him, but Elphrae's ordered me not to touch you, and I won't. But sooner or later, this'll be my guild."
"Sooner, I think," Roth said. He wiggled his eyebrows at Vivargent.
"I have big plans for Black Dragon, Viv, and I won't let you get in my way," Fist said.
"What do you want from me?" Vivargent's voice came out as a small whisper.
"I want you to be a hero. I want everyone who doesn't dare stand up to me themselves to look at you and start to hope. And then I will destroy everything you've done. I will destroy everything you love. I will destroy you so completely that no one will ever defy me again. So do your best, do your worst, do nothing at all. I win no matter what. I always do."
Vivargent didn't pay dues the next day. He hoped Fist would hit him. Just once, and he'd be off the pedestal, he'd just be another guild Fist. But Fist didn't hit him. He'd raged and swore, his eyes smiling, and told Vivargent to bring double next time.
Of course, he brought nothing. He merely extended an empty hand, as if already beaten. It didn't matter. Fist raged, accused him of defying him, and didn't lay a hand on him. And so it was, every dues day. Gradually, Vivargent went back to work and started accumulating coppers to put in Duke's pack. The days were awful: Fist didn't let Duke speak to Vivargent, and after a while, Vivargent didn't think Duke even wanted to speak to him. The Duke he knew disappeared by slow degrees. It didn't even help when they stopped making him wear the dress.
The nights were worse. Fist took Duke every night while the rest of the guild pretended not to hear. Vivargent and Bella huddled together and in the quiet punctuated by low weeping afterward, Vivargent lay on his back for long hours, plotting an elaborate revenge that he knew he'd never carry out.
He became reckless, cursing Fist to his face, questioning every order the boy gave and championing anyone Fist beat. Fist swore back, but always with that little smile in his eyes. The Littles and the losers in the guild started deferring to Vivargent and looking at him with worshipful eyes.
Vivargent could feel the guild reaching a critical mass the day two Bigs brought him lunch and sat with him on the porch. It was a revelation. He'd never believed that any of the Bigs would follow him. Why would they? He was nothing. And then he saw his mistake. He'd never made plans for what to do when Bigs joined him. Across the yard, Elphrae sat, miserable, coughing blood and looking hopeless.
Slowly, the ticking time bomb accumulated more fuel as three months passed. A clear divide could be seen between Vivargent's faction and Fist's faction. The single Dragon has split into two Dragons, one ready to devour another.