Chapter 32
A Dread Tide Rising by Walt Shuler
Dude, it’s cold, and I’m SO ready for spring. But since that’s not happening, here’s a new chapter of ADTR for your eyeholes. Also, only 8 more chapters + a brief epilogue to go!
Previously: The remaining Talon members reached the Isle of Stars.
Currently: Hax and Pax find that life outside the Talon is less friendly than they remember.
A Dread Tide Rising is a serialized, pulp-flavored, epic fantasy novel that follows the Talon, a group of mercenaries, thieves, and smugglers, as they come face-to-face with an ancient enemy intent on the destruction of the Rakkian Empire.
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Chapter 32
The bottle clinked as it rolled across the floor. A booted foot stopped it mid-roll, kicking it out of the way. “Get up,” Pax growled at the form sprawled against the base of the wall. Hax gave no sign of hearing. If anything, his snores redoubled.
Lips twisted in annoyance, Pax grabbed one of her brother’s arms and tugged him into a roughly upright position. He promptly tipped over the other way. He did not even stir when his head connected with the floorboards.
“Hax, you’ve got to get up, you drunken fool,” Pax yelled into his slack face. He snorted once, and his snores grew quieter, but the fighter showed no signs of awakening.
For a moment, Pax looked from her boot to her brother’s head, a wistful expression on her face. Then she thought better of it. Instead of kicking in his teeth as she wanted, Pax grabbed a nearby flagon of wine and upended it over Hax’s upturned face. A deluge of red wine washed over his features, down his nose, and into his open mouth.
Choking and sputtering, Hax sat bolt upright and peered around blearily.
“What’s…what?” he managed to ask.
“You need to get up,” Pax repeated, shoving his shoulder for emphasis.
“Nope,” Hax said. “S’no point.” He dipped a finger into a puddle of wine on the floor and then sucked the moisture off the tip. Suddenly interested, he cast around for more. “Where’s m’wine?” he slurred.
Pax glared but gestured at the mess on the floorboards. “It’s there. Lap it up if you want, but I’m leaving.”
Hax’s eyes opened wider at that. “Why? Where ya goin’?”
Pax stomped hard on the floor. “Does it matter? I’m sick of this godsdamned place and watching you drink your godsdamned self into a godsdamned coma every night. I think I’ll go back to Rakka and pick a fight with the Faceless.”
“Don’t go!” Hax pleaded, trying to leverage himself off the floor and failing spectacularly. “I can’t lose you, too,” he muttered, sagging back against the wall.
Pity flashed in Pax’s eyes before her expression hardened. “You’re going to lose everything if you can’t get yourself out of this flophouse, Hax. I’m telling you, I’m leaving. You can either come with me or sit here and drink that swill until your insides rot.” She turned on her heel and left the cramped room, slamming the rickety door behind her so hard it almost came off its hinges.
“Wait for me!” Hax called. Apparently, her leaving was enough to get him off his behind. At least that was what she assumed the loud crashes from inside the room meant. She paused a few feet from the doorway, waiting. Hax appeared a few moments later, bleary-eyed, but fully clothed and with his gear more or less in order.
“I’m goin’ w’ya,” he said.
As he stood there swaying, Pax almost regretted waiting. But he was her brother, and they had no one else now. Hax was not wrong about that. “C’mon,” was all she said, and then led the way toward the door.
Pax grimaced as she stepped outside into the wan daylight that filtered into the alley. The air was fetid with the stench of piss, vomit, and less savory things. Garbage littered the alleyway, interspersed with the bodies of those too inebriated by drink or drugs to walk further. A cursory examination showed that some of the bodies might not be alive. Pax growled deep in her throat while keeping a firm grip on the handle of one hatchet. Hax did not notice the stench or the foulness that littered the cobbles.
“Y’wouldn’t really leave me, would ya?” he mumbled, trying his best to carry his gear and put one foot in front of the other while avoiding the most obvious obstacles. A squawk of protest sounded when he trod on an unfortunate’s hand, but Hax ignored it.
“I would. Don’t you ever doubt it, Haxalanis Roh.” Her use of his full name snapped him alert. “I’d leave you as fast as Zander did back on Shaedōw.” She saw him wince out of the corner of her eye. It was probably a low blow bringing up Zander. The gods knew she tried her best to put their time on Shaedōw out of her mind, too, but she needed her brother to understand the seriousness of the situation. Hax fell sullenly silent and redoubled his pace, determined to keep up.
Together, the twins wound their way through Catha’s twisting streets. Located on the outermost Ring surrounding Rakka’s inner crescent, it was not much of a town. What there was had grown up around a shabby waypoint where wreckers had set up shop to take advantage of the dangers lurking on the path to the empire’s capital. Over the years, wood and stone buildings had joined the tents and ramshackle shacks to create a veritable warren.
Pax paused to glare at a bulky sailor who stared overly long. He turned away abruptly, whether put off by her snarl or the gleam of her hatchet blade. This was not a place to come unarmed or unwary. Catha might be within spitting distance of the emperor’s throne, but Rakka cared not a whit for what went on. There were no city guards, and no militia came if you raised the hue and cry; just the sort of place that appealed to the twins.
“Where we goin?” Hax asked again.
Pax glared at him. “We need work, kelp for brains. And I’m going to find us some.”
Hax brightened at that. “A job would be good.” He flexed his fingers. “We need to keep our edge. And money would be good, too.”
“Money would be good,” Pax agreed, lips twisted sourly. “If I can keep you from dumping it into the sea for wine and trim.”
Hax was sober enough to blush at the reprimand. “Oh, c’mon, Pax!” he pleaded. “Everyone deserves to cut loose now and then.”
“Now and then?” Pax yelled, rounding on her brother and poking a rigid index finger into his chest. The big man backed away as her tightly controlled fury finally bubbled over. “Now and then?” she repeated, eyes aglow with rage. “You’ve been ‘cutting loose’ since Mac kicked us out. Our money’s all but gone and all in an attempt to make yourself feel better for being a damned fool!” She stomped off, leaving Hax behind.
“What are you looking at?” he roared at a passerby who dared to meet his eyes. The other man hurried off, casting worried looks back over his shoulder. Hax all but ran to catch up to his sister.
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Aw Hax is deep in his feels over losing his spot with the crew. This chapter reminded me why I quit drinking haha!