Prologue

Ash drifted across the rubble like freshly fallen snow. The Piper moved slowly, his dark cloak sweeping the dust into swirling eddies as he picked his way through the remnants of the warehouse. The inferno left little to be recovered, all of his hard work reduced to smoke in an instant.

Where is it? He picked through every inch of what used to be an office, now buried beneath mountains of shattered concrete. Any trace of his carefully collected artifacts was lost to flame–a pity, to be sure, but there was only one he truly cared about.

Against a crumbling wall, a heavy iron safe laid on its side, half crushed with its door hanging from only one hinge. He crossed quickly to it, heart pounding as his veins pulsed with anxious heat. He pulled fistfuls of silver ash from inside as his blood ran cold; first with fear, then with fury. Gone. The Piper turned away, swallowing a scream of rage as he continued to survey the damage.

Dark eyes narrowed beneath his beaked mask as his boot met resistance with something soft and smoldering. His lips peeled back from his teeth in disgust. The body was charred, caked in blood and soot, but he recognized the man immediately.

Scratcher. A thin line across his throat told the story of his quiet demise, slumped against the entryway. The guard’s death had been quick and clean.

A sneer colored The Piper’s Irish lilt as he spat onto the ground beside him. “A merciful end for an undeserving fool.”

“Piper!” The gurgling cry came from the center of the ruin, buried beneath wooden beams still glowing orange with embers. He eased his way toward the voice, counting the bodies as he passed them. Nibbler, Gnash, Squeaker, Brute, and—

“Rufus.” The Piper stood over the broken man, shifting the pile of splintered wood that encased him. Like a rat caught in a trap. Blood leaked from the side of Rufus’ cracked lips, highlighting the violent red burn that now scarred the better half of his face. His eyes crinkled in a painful, relieved expression.

“Y-you came.” He choked on the words, coughing and sputtering against a mouthful of crimson. “The girl–we didn’t mean to kill her. She just wouldn’t stop—”

“Shhh,” Piper hushed him, pressing a gloved finger to Rufus’ trembling lips. The man ceased his shuddering at the touch, eyes alight with both fear and reverence. “Who did this?”

“It was her, m’lord. Th-the lioness, she—” A wet slap echoed like a clap of thunder as Piper’s hand smacked the side of Rufus’ face. He yelped and twisted away, bloody fingernails clawing at the splintered wood.

“You idiots,” Piper hissed. Rufus writhed and squirmed, tears now pouring down his soot-stained cheeks. The Piper stood, placing his boot over the pile that pinned the man’s lower half. With slow, calculated cruelty he shifted his weight, the wood creaking beneath it as Rufus screamed in agony.

“Please, sir, please!” The pathetic squeals only infuriated him. The Piper pressed down harder as Rufus gasped for air. Once more he raised a hand, and the rat of a man flinched in anticipation of another smack, but it did not come. Instead, Piper removed his mask, stroking its plumage as he purred.

“I asked only one thing of you, Rufus. One teeny, tiny little favor.” The man’s eyes widened, horrified at the revelation of The Piper’s unmasked face.

“Y-you—” he squeaked, slowly suffocating beneath the crushing weight of The Piper’s boot. A feral grin curled his lips as he basked in Rufus’ terror.

“I asked you,” he whispered, cold and venomous. “To make sure the book was safe. But you have failed me, and that is unacceptable.”

Rufus’ eyes bulged further, mouth forming soundless pleas, as The Piper removed his gloves. Wooden beams groaned and cracked as swirling tendrils of black smoke poured from his palms.

The plumes of magic crawled across the ruins and slithered down Rufus’ throat. He clawed at his own head and neck, gasping for air that would not come. The effort left angry red lines across his blistered skin and his face turned a shade of deep purple. He choked and writhed, eyes bloodshot and horrified.

When Rufus’ twitching finally ceased, The Piper spat his disapproval in the dead man’s face and stepped back. He replaced his gloves and mask, satisfied as he turned away. “My mercy suits you, rat.”