The Hiss of Serpents

Jostice knocked three times...

"If you do anythin' stupid I blow your brains through your ass," he said, yanking the Yurks index finger towards his thumb. The man groaned. "Glad we understand each other."

"If somebody's home, that'll wake 'em up," Grotknot guffawed, staring at the jailhouse door.

For as large as the city was, and deep the streets were in crime; the jailhouse could only house a few blocks worth of people, having a Sheriff and two handfuls of deputies at their exposure.

Jostice knocked once more and the door swung open. Standing before them was an oversized deputy whose face dribbled profusely while behind him stood a young man too clean-shaved, bright-eyed, and lean-muscled to draw fear into the Ace.

"The Sheriff asked us to release this man into your custody..."

Will looked at them suspiciously. "The Sheriff? Move Boris," He pushed the larger deputy aside while waving a hand at them. "Bring them in Jostice."

Boris arm flew across the doorway, "Jostice?" His face reddend. "You mean the Iron Ace? That man is a killer..."

Will leaned down to eye level with the stout man, "this man is a friend — both me and the Sheriff."

"And an enemy to the Mayor," he stammered. "Where does your loyalty lie —"

"Where does you!" Will voice rang, silencing the man. "Mine is to my Kin...best you step aside."

Boris wrinkled his round nose and shifted, pulling his arm back from the door. "My apologies," he grumbled.

"Much obliged." Jostice twisted the Yurks finger and he groaned,

Boris grimaced at the large man, whose red war paint fading though his eyes held stern.

Varko smirked at the stout man; a grunting heckle passing through his lips.

Jostice prodded his elbow into the mans hip and the warrior near collapsed under his weight. "Move!" He dug the elbow deeper until his elbow met the mans spine. Varko groaned, moving forward

"Where's Leslie," Will asked, pinching his lips. "Is she hurt?"

Jostice shook his head.

Grotknot closed the door behind them, "she's not...can't say the same of her Kin."

"Rynan's hurt?" Will looked between them both. "What happened?"

Jostice nostrils dailted, "we was attacked...If you want more details rub down to the Stir Doctors place — she's there with him." He jerked the man forward, "now if you excuse me, gentlemen… He and I need to have a talk."

Will patter the large mans shoulder, "Can you watch the jailhouse? I'm going to see how she's doing."

The large man frowned, finding Jostice's cold gaze. "And leave me with these two? Have you lost your head?" The big man stood straight, pulling his belt, and his pants over his hips. "I'm going with you…"

"What about the jailhouse?" Will said, we need somebody to keep an eye on the place.

"Leave that to us," Jostice said, smirking. "We won't be leaving anytime soon." He jerked his head and Grotknot followed him towards the cells that held the scum and outlaws of Sundown City.

"Wait," Will said. Jostice looked to the man. "You'll be needing these." He threw him a ring of silver keys and left.

In the back there were three cells empty, each one darker than the last, while the other dozen were filled with lazy-eyed, foul-tongued, and fist-happy prisoners. Half were asleep while others stares, some from their beds, others from the barss, watching and whispering.

"Whose you? You ain't part of the Ragmen are yee — come to spring us out."

Jostice unlocked a cell, swinging the door open, "I am certainly not…" He booted the Yurk inside. "Grotknot, grab me two chairs...by the time I'm done with this one, I'm certain he won't know how to stand."

Varko raised a lip, no fear in his eyes.

"You killed them deputies?" An older man with a smoke-golden beard asked.

"They're on a smoke break...Now hush up and keep to yourselves or I'll be doing to you, what is I do to him next."

The jailhouse found silence while the oiled laps flickered from he cell, giving the place enough light for Jostice to do his unjustice work.

Grotknot waddled in, carrying to stools that were nearly tall as he was. He set them on inside the cell, face riddled with the guilt of a killing man.

Jostice pushed the Yurk onto to the stool, watching him take long, labored breathes, throat whistling. Eyes drained of color like he was falling into the reapers grasp.

"Where'd that Yurk take our old Man…"

Varko pursed his lips and spat a red stream, pushing shoulders back and chest out.

Jostice removed his long-tailed coat and hat, setting them nicely on the stool. He brushed back his darkened hair then rolled his sleeves.

"Looks like it'll be a long night…"

He balled his hand into a fist, twisted at the hips, and slung his arm back; with all his might and power he twisted, driving knuckles into the Yurks jaw; it cracked and the young man slammed to the ground, a pool of blood puddled the floor.

Grotknot rose a hand, "Jostice...maybe there's a better way—"

"There is no better way." He whipped his hand until the sting of needles was gone. "Savages know only one thing and that is pain — the pain given and taken — so I'm given."

He bent down and brought the Yurk back to his feet. Blood streaming down his cheek while his eyes glared. There was a sick pleasure in the way he smiled; Jostice grew pulse beat heavy in his wrists and throat.

"Your own Kin asked for the exchange...Tell us where we can find the old man." He slid out his six shooter, bury barrel into the Yurks temple. "Don't force me to discover if you got brains…"

The Yurk bared his teeth, blood dripping, heckling ace.

Jostice turned away, took two steps towards the door, chuckled, then twirled back; his right arm flung wide, in a circular motion; the Yurks jaw cracked once more and he found the ground. The puddle blackening and growing.

Grotknot tugged on the mans sleeve, "Ace. Why don't we go for a smoke?"

"A smoke?" His tongue tingled at the word. "I'm just getting warmed up." He holstered his weapon, looking at the young man who stayed silent and still on the ground. He looked at the other cells that rest quiet; the prisoners heads turned away from the beating. Jostice shrugged, "I guess I could use take a smoke."

He grabbed his coat and hat, throwing them on, and closed the cell as he left.

Outside the air was muggy and the streets stayed silent in the square; those who'd come for the tournament were exploring the saloons and race track, causing trouble for the street deputies and the Legionaires who worked long hours since their arrival.

Jostice leaned against the building peering down the hazy, dark streets that went on for as far as his eyes could see. Above him, candles flickered in the windows of the two-story, box-shaped buildings while the moon peeked through tears in the clouds.

He lit a cig and puffed until the end glowed red and smoke filled his lungs.

"We could use a spill serum." Grotknot said, puffing on his pipe. "That'll get him talkin'."

"You can whip one up?"

"Course I could, but I won't…" He blew smoke that smelt of dirt and dust then hacked until his eyes watered. "There's nothing like the found in Muddown."

Jostice grimaced. "Smells like a pigs bath… Why bring up brewing a spill serum if you don't intend on brewing it?"

"It was a suggestion...Thought maybe you can brew it." He hacked once more. "You Rigger are known to be—"

"remarkable Alchemists...Yes, I've heard." He took a drag. "Remmiron was — I've always been the better shot — and much preferred shooting to be quite frank." He glared at the man, "my father always said you was the better alchemist."

Grotknot guffawed. "Your Pappy always spoke highly of his friends and ill about his enemies…I was a reckless and careless alchemist, not like your father who was precise. I looked up to that man...still do in fact."

"And why don't you brew no longer?"

The man lowered his head, pulling his pipe close to chest, puffing while reflecting. "My wreckless behavior scared my apprentice...haven't been able to touch a ladle since."

"Looks to me like Spill Serum may've been just what we needed...Damn shame—

From across the street, three embers glowed in the darkness, each hovering six feet off the ground. The embers began to moving towards them as figures came to shape in the dim oiled lamp light.

"Serpent," Jostice spat, as the three men stood shoulder lengths apart; the one in the middle much smaller than the stalky two beside him. The darkness couldn't fool the Ace. "You should make your presence less apparent, Rodge."

The man pulled a long, straight pipe from his lips, "I told ya, I don't go by that name no more—"

"I got it...I got it…" Jostice waved a hand as the mans black, glimmering face shone. "Scaleface."

"Precisely." The man smirked while his one black eye, the better eye, blackened. He limped over, leaning on a cane white as his suit, with a round marbled eye on the top. "What happened to your father?"

"Got wind of his capture quick," Boone said, walking to the porch rail, leaning over, and resting his arms on top.

The man stopped, corking his head that was covered in a large brimmed hat that could keep the winter rains from soaking his clothes.

"It's my job to know what's going on...always. If I didn't, my streets would be running with my enemies and the petty scum would fail to pay the debts they owe me…"

Jostice took one last drag then flicked his cigarette. "The deal is still on, we've just been side tracked."

"Not good enough…" He hissed. "My boy could be in danger and I can't take that risk — he's too valuable to my operations."

"I understand—"

"I don't you think you do…" The man folded his hands, studying the Ace. "If need be I'll sacrifice your nephew to insure my boys safety, you understand? Even Sathest can't be bought."

Jostice chuckeled, "you're gravely mistaken and you've forgotten their wrath. Soon as you gave up Boone they'd come after you…"

"At least I'd draw them out into the open — which you were to do might I add." He ashed the cigarette. "We provide the muscle and you provide the bait."

"And nothing's changed…" Jostice eyes narrowed and he stood tall, has clutched. "Unless you've come for other reasons…" He looked at each men. "Three against two, those seem to be good odds for me."

Grotknot puffed on his pipe, standing lazily agains the wall. Half listening. Caring none.

"Seems your duel partner is preoccupied…"

"Don't make no mistake, he only appears to be less than ready to keep y'all on your toes—"

"Damn it!" Grotknot yelled, smacking his hand; his skin scalding from the pipes cherry.

Scaleface hissed as he laughed. "As you say…" He smirked once more. "Find you father and get the job done...The Iron Alchemist Tournament is weeks away."

"I'll be certain to..."

The man spun on his heel and his two large guards threw their cigarettes and turned with him. He looked over shoulder and said, "If you don't, I can't promise your safety...It's been a long time, Ace. Loyalties change...And friendships change with them."

Slyface took a step towards the shadows and they swallowed him whole.