Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

This is going to be a fact-finding mission, and nothing more. What do you know about Paragons?"
    "Well, absolutely everyone's been keeping an eye on them recently, darling. From a respectable distance, of course. There's all kinds of stories about the things they've been getting up to, since they all came home with their tails between their legs. But no one knows anything for sure. I've been doing some research, or rather, I haven't but I persuaded this sweet young boy at the office to do it for me. It seems that all but a handful of the Paragons have returned from the quest now, and none of them found even a sniff of Owen or Hazel. Everyone's been chasing stories about them doing terrible things, but there's never any proof or any witnesses. Or at least, none willing to speak out, even for really impressive sums up front. The few times someone has got a piece together, one of Finn's people would turn up and have a, quiet word with the editor, and the story would be quietly spiked as not in the public interest."
    "Finn doesn't own all the media," said Emma.
    "No, darling, but he does scare the shit out of most of it. No one's going to risk going head-to-head with
    the Durandal over anything less than a totally watertight story. And that's where we come in! I'm going to be journalist of the year! They'll give me my own chat show for this!"
    "They'll cut your head off and dump your body in the waste pits, if we get caught," Emma said dryly.
    "Well, yes, there is that." Nina pouted, and frowned. "According to my researcher, sweetie, all the usual Paragon groupies and hangers-on have run for their lives. Ordinary people don't go into the Sangreal anymore, or if they do, they have a distressing tendency not to come out again. No one knows what they do with the bodies. The rest of the street have abandoned their homes and businesses. They couldn't stand listening to the screaming anymore. And all of this is happening just down the road from the House of Parliament, with the Imperial Champion's knowledge and support. So you see, I am taking this seriously, darling. I just believe in seeing the positive side of things as well. Like, if we pull this off successfully, we're going to be rich, rich, rich!"
    She jumped up and did a little happy dance in the middle of the room. "I think I've discovered a taste for real journalism, darling! No more puff pieces and horoscopes for me! So, what do we do first?"
    "Well, to start with, we're not going anywhere near the Sangreal until we've got a better idea of what's really going on. These people were heroes once. The best of the best. Some were my friends.
    Something specific must have happened, to change them so drastically. According to your news channel, one of the last few Paragons to return from the quest, Miracle Grant, landed at the main starport just a few hours ago. He wouldn't give any interviews, which is almost unheard of for Grant, but he did say he hadn't found Owen or Hazel either. There has to be a connection."
    She broke off as her viewscreen chimed with an incoming call. She looked at the screen curiously. Most people knew better than to bother her when she was off duty. She accepted the call and scowled at the screen. "This had better be really important," she growled.
    The face on the screen was female, oriental, the left half covered with a series of intricate overlapping tattoos. She wore her hair in a black buzz cut, her mouth was a severe pink rosebud, and her eyes were dark and fierce. A single razor-edged throwing star dangled from one earlobe.
    "I am Rachel Chojiro Random," she said bluntly. "I'm one of Random's Bastards. And you need to hear what I have to say, Paragon."
    Emma sniffed. "That'll be the day. I take it there's no point in trying to trace this call?"
    "What do you think? I'm calling from the Rookery, and that's all you need to know. Now shut up and listen. I know things you need to know."
    Emma folded her arms across her chest. "Convince me."
    Rachel scowled unhappily. "I'm a Random's Bastard, and proud of it. Direct descent from Jack Random. Disowned by both sides of my adopted family, ever since I discovered at a young age my God-given talent for parting fools from their money. I'm a career criminal, and proud of it. But there are lines even I won't cross. I speak for all Random's Bastards in this. The Durandal has desecrated Random's and Journey's graves in theVictoryGardens . The bodies were dug up and then destroyed with transmutation