Free The Malmillard Codex by K.G. McAbee

producing with carefully chosen
females a series of sturdy children, none of which he had ever seen
or held. He wondered in passing what the parents of these young
ones felt at their profession; doubtless, they considered it just
another way of earning bread in a hard world.
    Shaking his head, Val turned a corner and
escaped from the throng-filled street into a smaller, quieter side
passage. At once the noise level, until now pounding against his
head like thunder, lessened to a more manageable roar. Soon it was
almost silent as he walked deeper into and along a dim
alleyway.
    At the far end, Val found his progress
halted. The end of the alley was closed off with bars as thick as
his wrist, flaking with rust and decades of collected grime. With a
sigh, he turned to retrace his steps.
    A tiny wind whirled scraps of rubbish into a
funnel shape. A harsh rasping sound echoed in the stillness, like
some great beast breathing.
    Val felt an icy sense of danger race down
his spine. He looked around, noticing for the first time that he
was alone, and with no idea of where he was, or who—or what—might
be sharing this filthy alley with him.
    A high-pitched voice, like the plucking of
tightly stretched gut strings, whispered in his ear.
    Valaren Starseeker , it whined.
    Val swallowed through a throat gone dry.
Surely, he imagined that eerie voice, those words? Or did he really
hear someone—something—called the name that he had
appropriated?
    Valaren Starseeker , whispered the
voice once more, the faintest bit louder this time, but no more
recognizably human. Valaren Starseeker.
    Val snatched his sword from its scabbard,
taking comfort from the sturdy hilt, the silver nails at first cold
against his palm, the warming to match the heat of his hand.
    Another cold wind caressed his cheek, lifted
the straggling curls from his forehead.
    Valaren Starseeker, hissed the
whining voice.
    Val looked about him. Dizzy, his head
whirled; his feet were so far away, and suddenly were not able to
support his weight. A smell rose about him, sharp and strange amid
the simmering reek of alley, a spicy smell, dazzling and
unknown.
    Val watched in fatal fascination as the
rough cobbled floor of the alley rose up to slap full against his
face. He felt a trickle of blood begin to leak from his nose as his
mind floated away.
    ***
    Another slap rocked Val's head backward.
    But cobbles or eerie winds or magical voices
did not administer this particular slap. This one came from a most
mortal and human hand, delivered with the utmost in enthusiasm and
a certain glee.
    Val opened bleared eyes and tried to settle
his vision as it bounced and ricocheted from succeeding slaps.
Before another could land, he lashed out with his own hand and
seized a scrawny wrist, encircled it with his strong fingers.
    He squeezed.
    A mouse-like squeak ripped from a
gap-toothed mouth. "Your pardon, sire," said a small boy, his
unwashed body nearly naked. "I was only trying to wake you, indeed
I was, sire my lord, afore the rats began to nibble on your
toes."
    Val sat up. He was still in that same
alleyway littered with rubbish and thick with a rancid, musty
smell. But beneath that smell common to all alleys, there lingered
a sharper, stronger scent, bitter as blood, seductive as opium.
    A dim fragment of memory twined tendrils
through his dizzy mind. A voice, a strange whispering voice…an
order, a command…
    The memory was gone, blown away by the fresh
air of his returning senses, dissipating even as he tried to grasp
it. Gone. What had it been? What had it wanted of him? What…what
had it ordered him to do?
    Val struggled to his feet, one hand reaching
out for purchase on the stone wall beside him. He saw with relief
that his other hand was still firm about the handle of his new
sword, and his dagger still rested securely in the top of his
boot.
    The boy who had been slapping him sat back
on bony heels, his skinny body a collection of sticks covered in
rags.
    "What did you