Shadow Rogue Ascendant

by Mike Truk

  “Evening, everyone,” I said, raking my hands through my hair and forcing my shoulders back. I tried for a smile, but only Tamara seemed willing to return it. “Thanks for, ah, forcing me to have this meeting as quickly as possible. Far be it for us to lounge about on deck for a day or two, drinking rum and enjoying the sea breeze, right?”

  Yashara shifted her weight from one foot to the other, causing the boards to creak.

  “Right,” I said, “that was a joke, to ah, lighten the mood. But never mind. To business. First off, Tamara, Havatier, it does my soul good to see you back up and about. Thank you, Havatier, for getting us back aboard the Bonegwayne. We’d all be dead if you hadn’t pulled off that miracle.”

  “You spoke some inspiring words at the end,” said Havatier, voice little more than a rasp. “Spurred me on wonderfully, they did.”

  “Ah,” I said, “you remember that part.”

  Havatier eyes narrowed a fraction. “I do.”

  I clapped my hands together. “Well! It worked, because we’re here drinking wine with Captain Maestria, and who’d rather be slowly dying of thirst aboard that old tug? Not me. So, yes: thank you. Thank all of you, for that matter. Each and every one of you played a crucial role in last night’s success. We snuck into the Sodden Hold, defeated our enemies, gave the Family a black eye that it won’t forget, and most importantly, afforded me my confrontation with Everyman Jack.”

  This caused several people to shift about in their seats.

  “So you managed to speak with him?” asked Cerys. “Did he tell you why he ordered your death right after you passed your trial?”

  “It’s hard to believe,” said Yashara, “that all this - all the fighting and death and the destruction of my Mailed Fist - came about because of that one little betrayal.”

  I coughed into my fist. “Indeed. Seems like a lifetime ago, but it’s what started this avalanche. Yes. We spoke. The black portal led to some private mansion of his that was suspended in a swirling void. A magical realm, I’d guess, which he could retreat to whenever he wanted. No wonder we never saw him coming and going. But we spoke, and he revealed… a lot.”

  Eyebrows raised. Nobody spoke. My throat was parched. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. I took up Cerys’ goblet and drank half the wine, and only stopped because draining the full amount would stink of desperation.

  This was it. Everyone was staring at me. Waiting. Even Pony was leaning forward, huge arms wrapped around his knobby knees.

  “And… Everyman Jack told me that the Aunts and Uncles don’t really run the Family. I’ve always thought they were a society of equals, that they formed a council of some sort, and managed business between them all, but no. There’s been a single leader all this time. Someone Jack called ‘Grandfather.’”

  “A secret leader?” Havatier rubbed at his jaw. “Fascinating. I’ve never even heard a rumor to that effect. Secret indeed.”

  Cerys reached out to retrieve her goblet. “That would make this ‘Grandfather’ the true ruler of Port Gloom. And what manner of person could command the Aunts and Uncles, keep them in line?”

  “An impressive individual,” said Yashara. “To run an organization of such size for so long without even its lower members being aware of his presence - he’d have to be both brilliant and subtle.”

  “Did this ‘Grandfather’ order your death?” asked Cerys. “Is that why Jack betrayed you?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” I began to pace back and forth. “Jack hid me from this Grandfather for all these years. Tried to protect me, or let me die as a result of my own stupidity or bad luck so that he’d not have to get rid of me himself. But I didn’t die. Instead, I did annoyingly well. It’s why he set me such an impossible trial: raiding the custom’s house was supposed to be a deathtrap, especially after he made sure all my inside information was wrong. But I survived that too, forcing his hand. He didn’t have a choice when I showed up at the Sodden Hold. He had to kill me there and then before I came to the Grandfather’s attention.”

  “But why?” Maestria pushed back on the rear two legs of her chair. “You still haven’t told us why this all-powerful figure wanted you of all people dead. What were you to him?”

  “His son,” I said.

  That caused a stir. People exchanged glances, and Tamara even placed her hand over her mouth.

  “His son?” asked Cerys, leaning forward. “You’re the son of the leader of the entire Family?”

  “Yeah,” I said, not wanting to meet her eyes. “His unwanted son. Jack was supposed to kill me right after I was born, but didn’t have the heart. My making the grade, however, would have brought me to his attention, and then Jack would have paid the price for his disobedience.”

  “But how would he know?” Cerys gave a quick shake of her head. “Was your family resemblance so strong he’d recognize you? The man hadn’t seen or thought of you in almost twenty years. Why couldn’t you have disguised yourself a little and avoided his attention?”

  “He’d have known.” Here it was. I stopped pacing and linked my hands behind my back. “Jack was absolutely positive that the moment Grandfather clapped eyes on me he’d know me for his son without a shadow of the doubt. Disguise or no disguise.”

  “Magic?” asked Havatier. “Does he have some perpetual warding spell that alerts him to blood relations…?”

  “Something like that. But not a spell, no.” A deep breath. My heart was pounding so hard I felt like I was going to burst an artery. “Jack said… I mean, Jack told me….” I coughed into my fist again. “I didn’t believe it myself, but it all made sense after. In retrospect, as it were.”

  “Spit it out,” growled Yashara.

  “Jack said my father was a king troll.”

  Silence. It was immediately obvious that nobody quite understood what I meant. That the words I’d just said out loud didn’t make sense. Cerys frowned, leaned forward as if to ask a question, then stopped. Maestria quirked a brow as if I’d just recited a garbled children’s rhyme. Havatier, Tamara, Iris - they all just stared at me in confusion.

  Yashara, however, uncrossed her arms as she pushed away from the wall. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then he lied to you.”

  “He didn’t.”

  Her eyes narrowed as her hand dropped to the hilt of her great scimitar. “Let me rephrase that then. He’d better have lied to you.”

  “A king troll?” Havatier placed both hands palm down on the table and leaned forward. “Like the children’s tales?”

  I fought for calm. “Apparently, those stories were based on some really ancient history.”

  To my surprise, it was Tamara that rose to her feet. “That’s not possible, Kellik, because the king trolls were wiped out over five centuries ago. To the very last one.”

  “Aren’t you listening to me? Apparently, they weren’t.”

  Her voice brooked no dissent. “No. They were. I know this.”

  “Know it how?” My impatience was starting to slip my control.

  She crossed her arms, uncrossed them, then flushed and sat down. “I was a member of the Sworn of the White Sun. I was fascinated with the lore of my order, which is in part what led my asking the questions that got me cast out. And much of it concerned the king trolls, though it made little sense. What was clear, however, abundantly so, was that my order was instrumental in wiping out the king trolls over half a millennia ago. In fact, I’ve come to believe that was the very reason it was created. That the Sworn were formed to eradicate the great evil embodied within the king trolls. And this they did successfully, as evinced by the complete lack of monstrous tyrannical despots ruling the world with their cruel magics and indomitable wills.”

  “Will someone please tell me what a king troll is?” asked Maestria.

  “Jack was fucking with you,” said Yashara.

  “I’m sorry, Kellik, but I agree.” Tamara gave a curt nod as if cementing her opinion. “I can’t gue
ss why he lied in such manner, but that’s as ridiculous as claiming your mother was a sun dragon.”

  Iris watched all this without much concern; she simply turned to listen to each speaker with polite interest.

  “Look. Shut up. All of you.” I moved to the edge of the table and leaned forward on both arms, staring each person down until they subsided. “I know he told the truth because it explains a lot of mysteries which were confusing the fuck out of me.”

  “Like what?” asked Tamara. “Your desire to rule Port Gloom like some monstrous tyrant -”

  “Like how I survived Jack’s first assassination attempt,” I said. “Black Evelina shot me in the chest and then cut my throat. Remember Tamara? That first time we spoke? You said I received a cut that nearly opened my throat?”

  She nodded unwillingly.

  “Black Evelina didn’t nearly open my throat. She was going to be made a fucking gloom knight. She did open my throat, right before they threw me in the Snake Head. I’m sure of it. No way she’d be sloppy enough to just lightly cut me. She opened my throat, and I healed the wound while I drifted into the bay.”

  Tamara scoffed. “Nobody heals a cut throat.”

  “You said it yourself: it was a miracle I hadn’t been thrust into the Ashen Gardens. You said my wounds should have been mortal, and couldn’t explain how I’d survived. Remember?”

  She subsided with a frown.

  “Or - how about how I could give more spirit stuff to you to fuel your magics than anyone you’ve ever met? Or how I’ve fucking healed the wounds dealt to me by Jack? Or the ones I received from the gloom knight outside the tunnel on the banks of the Snake Head?” Furious, hands shaking, I tore my shirt off over my head and spread my arms, showing the dozens of scabbed over knife wounds to my arms and sides, the huge swathe of scar tissue that covered my side where Jack’s claws had torn through my flesh and ribs.

  “You have to have noticed how I’m healing. Healing faster than anybody but a troll can.”

  “So maybe you’re half troll like Elias was,” said Cerys, “and like him you’re coming into your power now.”

  “Right,” said Tamara, “how do you know it’s not regular troll blood in you?”

  Havatier’s mouth was puckered as if he’d tasted something foul. “You think Pony could rule the Aunts and Uncles?”

  “Exactly,” I said. My fury was a dull drumbeat in my temples. Their protests had aggravated me beyond reason. “You think a city troll is ruling Port Gloom? I’d give my fucking life for Pony at this point but I’d not appoint him the secret head of the Family.”

  “So another half troll,” began Cerys, but I slammed my palm down on the table top so hard that every goblet bounced.

  “Enough! And more than enough! The Grandfather is a fucking king troll, and yes Tamara, that’s why he’s running Port Gloom like a power-mad despot, steeping it in depravity and corruption, making it so that nothing good can grow there, so that the closest thing to a real government is a band of murderous cutthroats and conmen who hold onto their monopoly on crime through a web of mutilated and shattered female magic users. Doesn’t that sound like the provenance of a king troll?”

  Tamara’s face paled as she sat back. Her eyes were wide, almost glassy.

  “The leader of the Family is a fucking king troll, and I’m his son. He’d have recognized me the moment he saw me because king trolls apparently recognize their own. Jack said I was growing into my powers, and healing’s not the least of them. You’ve all heard me persuade people to take my side. You’ve commented on my ability to bring this group together. Come on, people. Think about it. Think about what we accomplished in Port Gloom. Who we fought. Who we crushed. Could any regular street rat have pulled that off? There’s a power in me. A power that’s growing. A hunger for control. But.”

  I had them. They were staring at me, spellbound.

  “But. Tamara here, our dear Foresworn, healed me with her White Sun magic. And as we’ve since learned, that shit changes people. She changed me. I went from being an asshole of an aspiring thief to giving a damn about justice, about killing monsters like Elias, about stopping criminals like Wargiver, about freeing the mutilated women they’d enslaved, about taking down the Sodden Hold where Jack stood laughing at me. I’m a king troll with a bloody conscience, and I tell you now, I’m not done getting my revenge. Not while my father is out there, sitting in the center of his damned web, pulling strings and keeping Port Gloom under his fucking thumb.”

  I stepped back, panting for breath, feeling aflame with passion and resolve.

  Nobody spoke until Iris broke the silence. “Are you using your powers on us now?”

  That got everyone’s attention. Before they could cry out, I held up my hands. “No. Not that I know of. I’m just talking here.”

  Cerys rose to her feet and stepped behind her chair. “You can tell when you use it?”

  “I - yes. Sometimes. After the fact. It feels like a fucking rush. Like Blind Fortuna herself has gazed upon me and is raising me up on her wheel. I felt it with Neko, after Wargiver, when I convinced him to join us. With Pogo, remember?” I turned to the goblin. “When you wanted to leave after the first gloom knight’s attack? A few other times. But not now. Now, I’m just pissed and wanting my father’s head on a plate.”

  “You used us,” said Yashara, voice laden with menace.

  “Yes, and I gave you gold in exchange, it’s called hiring your mercenary ass in case you’ve forgotten -”

  Havatier was staring at me, face dangerously blank. “So my desire to help you fight the Family, the way I suddenly resolved to do something after decades of inaction…?”

  Maestria’s face had gone as hard and cold as marble. “Is that how you got back on my ship and into my good graces? Used your powers on me?”

  “No! Listen to me, all of you.” I raised both hands, chest rising and falling, searching for the right words, trying to find a way through to them. And then I felt it - a rising sense of potential, a warm, tingling excitement at the prospect of swaying them, at exerting my will over their own and bringing them back to my side. It arose within me like some dark predatory fish rising toward the surface of the ocean. No, not a fish, a great whale, vast and unstoppable, a force of nature that would sweep aside their objections, make them see reason, my reason -

  I turned away from that urge, that inclination, and with a shudder forced myself to speak with my words alone. “Listen. Please. All of you. I - I just learned about this. Who I am. What I am. I had no idea until I spoke with Jack. No awareness that I might be doing anything wrong. Just… just a desire for justice. To do the right thing. And if I crossed a line in doing so, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just thought I was being extra fucking persuasive. And I swear to you. Right now, right here, that I won’t use that power again. I’m not using it now. I’m just trying to connect with you as a friend. Someone who’s placed his life in your hands numerous times in battle. I respect and admire every single one of you. I’m honored that you’ve fought by my side, and if you want to get the hell away from me, I’ll respect that, too. But please.”

  I looked about the table. “Please believe me when I say I never meant any of you any harm, and that I’ll never use my powers on you again.”

  Silence. Cerys remained frozen behind her chair. Yashara’s glower had been reduced to a pensive smolder. Maestria was scrutinizing me, Havatier staring out into the middle distance.

  Tamara glanced down at her hands, cleared her throat, and then spoke to the table at large, not looking at anyone in particular. “I can attest to what Kellik’s saying. I mean, in terms of his learning more about himself and his own powers. How… how awful it feels. To know that you did something to those you care about, that you might have changed them against their will. It’s why I was cast out of the Sworn. I asked difficult questions, and when I wasn’t satisfied with the answers, I swore not to use my powers again. They didn’t like that. But it
was only later that I really understood how wrong what I was doing really was. That I was changing people on their most fundamental level by healing both them and their spirits. And when Kellik found that out about me, he… he didn’t cast me out as most other people might. He didn’t call me a monster. He told me instead to stop, and then trusted that I would.”

  She looked over at me then, her eyes bright with tears, her face flushed, her smile tremulous. “I haven’t even begun to process what you’ve told us. With your being a… you know. The son of everything my order was created to fight, the son of… something so ghastly and foul I can’t begin to wrap my mind around it. But… I do trust you. You’re the man I’ve seen fight for all the right reasons these past few days. I trust you, Kellik, no matter your heritage, and I’ll stay by your side.”

  I can’t begin to express how good that felt. My own eyes prickled with tears and my chest swelled up with emotion. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so all I could do was give her a curt nod, my throat working as I swallowed.

  “By the Hanged God’s shriveled dick,” said Cerys, falling bonelessly into her chair. “A king troll?”

  “Yeah,” I managed, and forced a smile. “Tell me about it.”

  “I’ve no problem with your heritage,” said Iris. “You saved me from a literal lifetime of madness and slavery, and have accepted me and all my proclivities ever since. I’ve never met someone as open-minded or just. Your being descended from some kind of legendary monster is perfectly acceptable to me.”

  I gave a weak laugh. “Thank you, Iris. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

  “I don’t know,” said Havatier, slowly shaking his head. “To know I was so crudely manipulated, and by a child of the most heinous monsters in recorded history? I don’t know if I can make peace with that.”

  “Fair,” I said. “More than fair.”

  Netherys had remained quiet all along, a slender shadow to one side, her long, clever fingers toying with her goblet. Her smile was mercurial.