by Pemry Janes
“If not a spirit, then what could it be?”
“Ah, now if I had all the answers I’d be out there cornering the murderous phracto right this moment. Still, this does help. If the pattern holds, then we should be looking for Rending Snarl’s body. And finding out where that is may tell us much.”
He gave Silver Fang a look and she fidgeted. “I will not ask how much you know, Rock. Some things I don’t need to know. Would be best if nobody knew. I’m not going to assign you guardians. I don’t have any to spare and it might give the wrong impression.”
Bitten Fin levered himself out of his chair, then rubbed his leg. “If this impostor approaches you again, be cautious. Try to stall for time and attract our attention. It might not have shown all it can do.”
They both agreed that they would be careful. Eurik hoped that Silver Fang meant it. She all too often threw herself into danger without a second thought.
***
Leraine headed for Snake territory, barely aware of her surroundings. Bitten Fin’s conclusions were bad enough. She’d been certain she knew what they dealt with. She’d heard the story of the face stealer and how Bishint managed to steal its greatest treasure. Not that she thought it was Hathadaewu itself they were dealing with, but a lesser spirit related to them. Not so.
But at the moment her mind was more occupied with Rock’s parting words. He’d wondered why it had first appeared within the inner sanctum. There would have been easier and better targets anywhere else.
But there is something in the inner sanctum you can’t find anywhere else. All the trophies dedicated to the spirits.
Silver Fang stopped in the middle of the path. Someone bumped into her but she paid them no heed, nor the hot words thrown her way.
What if stoking our anger, breaking the Great Truce, is not its goal?
But what was it after, then? Simply to steal something from the inner sanctum? Taking a mental step back, Leraine acknowledged that an outsider would see it as a great collection of wealth.
This can’t be about something as simple as riches. Can it?
Was that the plan, then? Cause enough chaos to draw the guards protecting the inner sanctum away so they could steal . . . what? Not just gold or jewels. Both could be stolen from those visiting the festival with far greater ease. Some of the items held within were magical in nature, like the mirror of the Traitor-Mage.
And what had Tense Coil said? Half the items were dangerous? Perhaps it’s not wealth this murderer seeks, but power.
Leraine set out once again, though not back to the shamans. She could be right, she could be wrong. Either way, the goal remained the same. Stop this thing from murdering more people. But how could she find someone who could be anybody?
***
Eurik sat down with a weary sigh. The Outsiders Quarter was a little quieter today, a little emptier. Well, quieter away from his shelter, as Misthell at the moment was voicing his displeasure.
“You’re sure you’re not going to have to give me away to that Fervent person? Absolutely, completely, totally, surely sure?”
“Surely sure?”
“Yes, it’s double sure. Are you?”
“Yes. I made it clear I’m not using you to settle a debt. That I don’t own you. Though they won’t see it that way.”
“I asked you to reassure me.” The living sword’s single eye drooped. “How, how did her sword look like? Well taken care of? Does she like to go hunt demons?”
“Misthell . . . I haven’t seen her sword. I don’t know.” Eurik shook his head. He’d already assured the living sword that that wouldn’t happen. Had done so multiple times, but getting some ideas out of its mind was next to impossible.
“Oh. Well, you better win this competition then. I’d cheer you on, but they don’t allow my kind in there. So, get on with meditating. Center yourself, look within to—”
“Misthell,” Eurik said sharper than he’d intended. Continuing in a softer voice, he closed his eyes and deepened his connection to the earth beneath him. “I know how to meditate. What I need isn’t a greater connection to the Ways. I need some way to get around the limitations this place puts upon them.”
“Right.”
With the sword falling silent, Eurik focused on quieting the turmoil within himself. The mess with his mother, the murderer operating with impunity and with some interest in him, the danger his friends were in. None would bring him a solution.
He could use Dance of the Whirlwind, but his understanding of Rise of the Mountain remained far greater. Yet that was the Way he couldn’t use within Chappenuioc. Well, not entirely true. There was some earth chiri there, disconnected little pockets in the metal and stones some carried around; like pools of water after a rainstorm.
But those were out of reach, no use to him when he was walking through its streets or over its hanging walkways. Perhaps he should fashion some sort of bracelet or ring for himself and pack it with earth chiri. It wouldn’t solve the challenges he faced in the competition, if it worked.
No better time to test that.
Eurik slapped a hand flat on the ground as he cast his senses deep into the earth. He sifted the various layers and seams for its heavier, sturdier elements. Then he pulled them up and let them wrap around his finger and his wrist. Both circlets consisted of a dark material with glimmering veins and streaks of orange and blue.
He drew in more chiri, it flowed like thick lava up his legs and through his chest. It poured down his arm and into his new ornaments where he packed it in, pushing until the ring and bracelet felt twice as heavy. It wasn’t a true weight; another person wouldn’t have noticed a difference. To Eurik, however, it was both that and more.
Eurik made his way to the Road. The Outsiders Quarter was set some distance away from Chappenuioc proper, but practically next to the Inza Road. He wondered if that was for convenience, or so that non-Mochedan could quickly be ferried away from their holy city.
Holding up his right arm to inspect his work one last time, Eurik took a deep breath and flushed the earth chiri out of his body, into the ground below before severing himself from the world. He waited for a heartbeat, two, three, four. The chiri in the ornaments didn’t flow into the sudden void. It sat there, heavy . . . slightly vibrating?
Stepping onto the Road itself was still uncomfortable, like finding your ears stuffed with wool, floating in a still pond, or waking in the dark of night. But he could sense the chiri in the rings and gently, he tried drawing on the one around his finger.
Fresh strength filled his hand and traveled up his arm. Distributed over his whole body, however, it wasn’t that much. One good punch, a few moments of stonelike toughness, that’s all the little ring could hold.
He drew from the bracelet as well and went through a short movement pattern, blocking and attacking a couple of imaginary adversaries. It was better, but he could already tell that he’d have to adapt his normal style. He’d have to use Rise of the Mountain in bursts rather than a steady, implacable advance. Not a boulder rolling down the slope, but an earthquake.
Though as he stomped about, Eurik noticed something. His steps felt odd, the Road felt slippery, springy. He’d already used up nearly half of what he’d brought with him, but he could get more chiri by stepping off the Road so he tried something. He gathered what energy still remained and concentrated it in his legs, then pushed it down into the direction of the ground.
He wasn’t ready for the results. Eurik felt himself lift off the ground. Not much, but enough that he fell forward and only just caught himself from landing face first.
How? What? He pushed himself back onto his feet. Most of the earth chiri is gone, it went somewhere. But . . . it pushed me too.
Eurik shook his head. That had been odd, but now was not the time to investigate. His idea worked, he could bring earth chiri into Chappenuioc. But how did that help him in the competition? He held up his arm and examined the bracelet. They looked fine, r
eady to be used once more. But he still couldn’t bring them with him onto the fighting platform.
The only jewelry you’re allowed to wear is a draen and I’m not Mochedan. And I can’t think any place on my body that I could have this and not cause a problem.
It wasn’t intended as a weapon or armor, but it would work like that. Eurik wouldn’t want to hit this with his bare, unprotected hand. There just wasn’t any place on the body where that wouldn’t be true to some extent.
Wait, on the body. But what if I didn’t bring it with me?
Chapter 23
The Knife at Your Throat
Leraine fell back as her opponent unleashed a flurry of blows that she only barely caught with her buckler and sword. She should be focusing on this, this fight, this enemy in front of her. But other thoughts wouldn’t go away. They kept rearing their ugly heads and crying for attention.
She didn’t even notice the hit itself, only the call of the shaman let her know that she was two points behind now. The sting came when they reset their positions. Not from the hit, but that confident sneer of her enemy.
Enough, you’re not going to lose like this. Remember Irelith’s lessons. Focus on the knife at your throat, not the army a day’s ride away.
Leraine and her opponent moved as one. For a moment, there was no threat, no murderer, no family. The moment was neither long nor short; it was as long as it lasted. Right up until Leraine pushed her enemy’s weapon out of the way with the buckler and struck at the exposed wrist with her wooden blade in one motion.
“Point to Silver Fang.”
The satisfaction Leraine felt at wiping that smile off of her competitor’s face was not in keeping with the spirit of the festival. But she was still behind. Celebrate after victory was secured, not while trying to achieve it.
Leraine raised her blade again. The knife at my throat.
***
Eurik sailed through the air, the crowd quickly parted to give him an unobstructed look at the bare stone of Chappenuioc’s surface. Failure and more laid heavy on his stomach, but right now he needed to worry more about not breaking any bones.
He’d lost, so he didn’t have to worry about breaking rules then. Sailing through the air generated more than enough wind chiri for his needs, he spun in the air and pulled the winds along. They gathered between him and the ground, pushing against him. Not enough to stop his fall, but it slowed it down to the point that he could make a neat landing on his feet.
And this was the first bout of the day. But I still have a chance. One chance.
“Victory to Snap Gap,” the shaman said, gesturing at the man who had moved like greased lightning.
Eurik shook his head lightly and got up onto the platform to bow to his opponent. “I did not see it coming. Well fought.” And quick too: the shaman’s signal to begin had still lingered when he’d found himself lifted into the air.
Snap Gap shrugged and said . . . something. Maybe that it had been a good fight? His speech was barely recognizable as Thelauk. Certainly Snap Gap’s lips quirked in a smile, showing several teeth that had been filed into points. Then he turned away, gave Eurik a lazy wave, and left.
With a sigh, Eurik did the same. He wasn’t out of the competition yet, but this made things a lot harder. He rubbed his stomach. Didn’t even get to try my solution. Would it have helped there?
Probably not. Losing wouldn’t be the end of the world, he could pay the fine with the aid of the Ways. He’d have to get closer to some mountains for that, though. He’d already checked and there hadn’t been any precious metals or stones near Chappenuioc. At least, not close enough for him to sense.
Zasashi wouldn’t have had that problem. A master’s sense of the world far outstripped his. But they weren’t here, and this was Eurik’s problem to solve. That was why he wouldn’t ask Silver Fang for help paying either. This was the consequence of his decision, so he should bear it.
Walking past other platforms, he looked out for Silver Fang and Slyvair. She was at the wolf platform and the orc should be fighting under the killer whale. He saw wolf, but no Silver Fang. Her bout must have finished already.
“Watch it!”
“I am. Especially you murderous lot.”
It happened in front of him, two people standing within arm’s reach while people gathered around them. Except, no. They were gathering behind the two in separate groups while the way those two held themselves was easy to recognize. Eurik had seen similar postures during the fights.
“You dare?” The one who’d told the other to watch it shifted his weight.
That other wore a padded vest, though Eurik doubted the soft leather offered much real protection when it left the arms exposed up to and including the shoulders. It had the design of a blue bear standing on two legs on its front.
The people behind him wore similar garments, or thin leather with metal fixtures that probably offered even less protection even when it was clearly made to resemble armor.
“Dare?” The one with the blue bear gestured at everybody. “We all know who’s responsible for the murders these past few days.”
“You are!”
Four guards slipped through the crowd, made easier by the fact that those people had divided themselves in distinct groups with space between them. Very few people stood alone, like Eurik. The guards brandished their staves and shouted for everybody to get going.
For a moment, everybody held their ground. Then the ones wearing armor retreated, though not before the one who had mentioned the murders spat on the ground.
“I had hoped that the news that Rending Snarl wasn’t responsible for Springstep’s death would ease the tension,” Silver Fang said from next to him.
Eurik didn’t jump, he didn’t. And she couldn’t tell his heart was galloping, though quickly slowing down to a sedate pace again. “I—” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know it had been announced. Have they found him, then?”
Silver Fang’s lips twisted. “No. So many doubt it is true. It is not helped that they haven’t revealed who, or what, is truly behind all this.”
“I don’t know how much it would help. Knowing that anybody could be this murderer. Wearing the face of someone you know, perhaps.” The thought came that he couldn’t be sure this was Silver Fang.
“Accusations could do far more damage than this thing has done.” She shook her head, a quick, sharp motion. “I won my first fight. It was closer than I’d liked. How did you fare?”
“I lost.” He grimaced. “It was quick.”
“You are facing the best the People have to offer. But you are not out of the competition.”
“Not yet. But maybe I should be.”
She put a hand on his arm. “What’s this? I’ve not known you to quit even when it was wise.”
“I’m not that bad. But . . . I’m here to find out more about my parents. It hasn’t worked and I can spend my time better by helping to find the killer.” He hadn’t even tried the Puma quarter again. With all this going on, he knew they wouldn’t treat him any kinder. But perhaps if this murderer was caught . . .
She looked around and led him away from the crowd, deeper into Chappenuioc. “And how would you go about that?” Silver Fang asked once they were away from anyone else being able to overhear them.
“I . . . have no idea.”
She squeezed. “I share your frustration. I would love nothing more than to hunt this murderer down. But I can no more see beyond its disguise than you can. And have you already forgotten the galautik you owe to Fervent?”
“No, but that won’t be a problem.” He let out a long breath. “I was actually thinking of using myself as bait. The murderer has already shown interest in me, so maybe they’ll try another conversation if I’m alone and vulnerable again?”
She started to pace. “I’ve had a similar thought. I’ve been trying to figure out what it is after. Certainly, it has shown interest in you but I don’t believe
that was its reason for coming here. I think it’s after something held within the inner sanctum. But the question would be, what?”
“I take it there’s a lot in this inner sanctum?”
Leraine stilled, then a quick bob of her head. “The trophies and spoils of generations of Mochedan. Centuries, really. Battles, wars, hunts. But why try to steal from the inner sanctum? It is well guarded at all times. There are easier targets to steal from, even here.”
“Which means they can’t find what they’re after anywhere else? Or at least, those places would be even harder.”
Silver Fang paused in her pacing, then resumed. “Yes. But what?”
“Something old? You did say some of the stuff there is centuries old. Is there any system to how these trophies are stored? If we assume that, uh, Tense Coil interrupted a thief, then whatever was near the body would be a likely target.”
“I didn’t see everything. But . . . there were a lot of demonic related items in the room. A mirror belonging to the Traitor-Mage of Bandar Ebon, remains of demons.” She frowned. “There was a demon heart lying right next to her body. I thought it had fallen there, knocked off its perch during a struggle.”
“Are they that rare? Merin used one to power his bone construct, and they’re fighting over a pair of them over in Glinfell right now.”
“Yes, but there’s many— What do you mean, a pair? The demon we slayed left three demon hearts behind.”
“No, Slyvair only mentioned two.” Eurik had been talking to the orc last night about this and that. Anything but his own problems. While hearing of the troubles Glinfell and the other cities of the Oathfellowship were dealing with wasn’t that enjoyable, at least they had the chance to resolve them.