Chuggie and the Desecration of Stagwater by Brent Michael Kelley

out loud. He didn't, though. It was too damn late, and he was too damn tired. All he had to do was break a chair over Haste's head and bludgeon Fitch with one of the legs, and then he could go home. And if he did that, why he'd sleep like an angel.
    "What's this?" Fitch slid a crumbling paper from between the pages of the book.
    Haste snatched it out of his hand and read aloud:
     

    The Darkness Sleeps.

    The flame shrinks as a widow weeps.

    Shadows planted long ago find rich soil in which to grow.

    A traveler comes from days long gone. Troubles dark are soon to dawn.

    Heads shout to make their voices heard, but cannot comprehend the word.
     

    The Darkness Stirs.

    The flame flickers and dire death occurs.

    Shadows planted in years gone by have breached the soil and seen the sky.

    The traveler drags the darkness on. The weak are failed by the strong.

    Leaders know not what's been stirred. They misread and misspeak the word.
     

    The Darkness Walks.

    The flame goes out and midnight stalks.

    Shadows grow and bear dark fruit. Dark new seeds grow strong in root.

    The traveler can save not one. The darkness brought can't be undone.

    Leaders have all failed the herd. All is lost in the unknown word.
     
    At the bottom, the words You have been warned were followed by a slashy signature: Shola of Scarecrows .
    "Do you remember her? Do you remember anything about this?" Kale asked.
    "No," said Haste said before he even had time to think about it. "Arden Voss did not discuss his appointments with me."
    "Bound in exile?" Fitch asked, squeezing his senfen. "They tied her up in the woods?"
    "Although why they didn't send her to the creature in the north…" Haste sipped his wine.
    Seeing Haste drink, Fitch took a drink of his own wine. Kale fought to keep himself from slapping the ass kisser out of Fitch.
     "She's long dead," Kale said. "Bound in exile? It means they chained her to a tree in the woods. Animals would have devoured her in a week."
     "Of course." Haste put on a look of self-satisfaction. "But she's not the problem. The man in her prediction is. Soon enough, the Steel Jacks will be an asset, not a burden. Then we control everything. Increase opium pine production, increase exports. By the time I'm through, mothers will be feeding opium pine to their babies. Wealth and influence, men!"
    Kale knew exactly whose wealth and influence Haste was referring to — none other than Haste's.
    Fitch gazed down at his senfen. "Most importantly, Stagwater must find faith. Under my spiritual guidance, this city will become a true city of God, the last sanctuary in these end times."
    "Even you don't believe that." Kale said. "When you tell people the world is going to end, they tend to notice when it doesn't."
    "Thankfully," Haste said with a shushing gesture for both of them, "I'll be somewhere warm, managing the distribution of the opium pine. However you two run the day-to-day operations of Stagwater, I care little."
    Fitch put a hand on the book in front of Haste. "What if Voss's seer council was right and the witch's predictions were all nonsense. What if this man doesn't actually bring destruction? Maybe we should take her words with a grain of salt."
    "I saw him myself when I traveled the Pheonal Path. Was I was tricked by the trance?" Haste folded his arms, and scowled at Fitch. "Or are you calling me a fraud?" Haste's voice came out slightly louder that it needed to be.
    Fitch's face flushed. "I'm not saying anything like that. Food for thought is all." He shrunk away.
     "Our plans are near fruition now, but they're ever so fragile. This is a crucial time. We can't take chances. If the traveler returns, that's the end for him."
    "I'll post men on the road to the south." Kale ground out his cigar. "That's what you saw in the vision, right?" Having men in the forest south of town for the next few nights meant delaying some plans of his own. He needed privacy to conduct his affairs in the woods. But sacrifices would