Shotput of Power

by Drae Box

  “I…” Raneth clenched his jaw a few times before running a hand through his black hair and ruffling it. “I’ve served the Three Ks for ten years, Aldora. Since I turned eleven. I know what I’m doing, and after serving that long as the Dagger Bearer, you’ll have ‘accidents’ on your record too,” he said defensively.

  Aldora took a slow and deep inhale. I can’t let him do this alone, no matter what he says. How do I get him to see it my way? She exhaled before saying, “I’m not leaving you to die, Raneth, and you’ve already said I’m too stubborn to leave you.”

  “I’m not going to die,” said Raneth softly. He took one of her hands into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to do my job and go home.”

  “Well,” begun Aldora, furiously thinking. Her gaze fell to his weaponless belt. “I can look for some weapons,” she said, almost babbling in her rush to spit out the words. “And your sword, Raneth. That way, you can do your research whilst I sort out the weaponry. We can meet later and decide together on a course of action with the information you gather.”

  “A good idea,” chimed in Pedibastet, his back right leg sticking out in the air from pausing mid-clean. “I can go with Raneth to help him. But where will we stay? Our previous hotel was clearly not a secret.”

  “I know of another we can use. The Bloodied Glove,” admitted Raneth. He nodded, accepting Aldora’s suggestion. She smiled. He wouldn’t face Lodema alone. “Here,” he added, slipping a hand into a trouser pocket. He withdrew a large wad of Newer currency. “For the weapons.”

  Aldora eyed his trousers. How much did he have in his pockets? And why hadn’t the Cannis thought to take the newbs?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aldora

  Definitely Raneth’s. Aldora inspected the sword that rested from hooks in the third weaponry shop she had found. She, Raneth and Pedibastet had passed this shop before, when they first entered the city. She eased a little closer, inspecting the curling leaves engraved in the silver of the hilt, the emeralds and Raneth’s full name inscribed down the blade. Dragon and Kalila must have had his name put on it specifically for this reason. She meandered over to the shop’s manager, who leaned against a desk reading a newspaper. He looked up as she approached, so she smiled and pointed at Raneth’s sword and the two familiar throwing stars either side of the blade. “They came together, didn’t they? When you got them?”

  “Yeah. Odd combination but not unheard of,” admitted the seller, giving a shrug of his shoulders.

  Aldora nodded, glancing over at Raneth’s weapons. Typical for a royal official. She readjusted the Dagger at her belt. “They’re stolen. The name on the sword, it’s my friend’s. We need it back.”

  “Where is he? If he has the original documents, I can give it you back without argument or payment.”

  “He’s…” Aldora chewed at the inside of her left cheek. “He’s out researching something. He asked me to find them.”

  “No papers means you have to pay like everyone else.”

  For goodness sake, thought Aldora. “OK, how much?”

  “Thirteen hundred newbs.”

  Aldora grabbed the Newer currency that Raneth had thrust into her hand just before they parted ways. Thankfully, they had Common numbers on the notes as well as Newer, so Aldora counted out the wad of notes. Was this all the currency she and Raneth had left to use? “I’m a hundred short.”

  “No sale then.”

  Aldora shoved the notes back into her pocket. “Please. What about just the sword? It’s the sword he cares about.”

  “Twelve hundred and fifty.”

  Seriously? she thought as she glared at the man. Fifty for the throwing stars? They’re specialist, even if they are of basic design. And he knows I can’t afford that. He just saw me count all those newbs.

  “What if I come back later with more?”

  “Already got three buyers coming back later for it. The detailing has sparked a lot of interest. Whoever buys first gets it.”

  The Dagger Bearer moved back over to Raneth’s sword and reached up for the grip, unhooking it from the wall and lowering it to the ground with a harder thud against the tip than she would have liked. If Raneth had been there, she would have blushed, knowing he knew she knew how to treat swords better. Completely forgot it’s longer than mine.

  “What are you doing?” asked the seller suspiciously, frowning as he edged closer.

  What am I doing? wondered Aldora. Legally, this man has no right to sell it, but at the same time he has no requirement to hand it over when I don’t have the original paperwork for it. But he should be willing to wait for a legitimate owner. Aldora tucked the sword as best she could under her arm so it wouldn’t harm her. Wherever the seller had put the sheathe, it wasn’t obvious. “I’ll come back later,” she lied, before rushing to the door.

  “Oi!” yelled the seller, running after her.

  Aldora dashed out the door and down the street, turning right at the corner of the weaponry shop and through an alleyway that led her to a café and a club nestled together.

  “Thief! I’ll take your hand!” roared the weapon seller.

  Aldora winced and pressed forwards, running through the remains of an old and dismantled gate between two abandoned guard posts, and turned right. She paused at the wall of a fire station, looking back where she had come from for signs she was being followed.

  Her victim stepped out from between two buildings with an inspector at his side. He pointed at her. “There! That’s her!” he shouted. “Thief! I’ll chop your hand off myself!” he screamed, his face reddening as he and the inspector ran at her. The inspector started to ring his bell, making Aldora wince and her nose twinge in remembered pain.

  “No, you won’t,” muttered Aldora, turning and running around the side of the building.

  A soft pop sounded behind her; she turned and looked towards the noise. A small white ball sat on the ground and smoked between her and the two chasing her. Billows of white smoke rose until it masked the pursuers from her eyes.

  “Hee-op.”

  Aldora glanced up at the rooftop of the fire station. Sitting on its corner, one leg swinging over the edge was Chara, a large grin in place. She gave Aldora a quick wave in greeting, then shooed her away. Needing no further encouragement, Aldora hurried away from the smoke, making her way around the other side of the fire station and sneaking back towards the park. Has she been following me since we left her lair?

  After some wrong turns and a few requests for directions, Aldora found The Bloodied Glove. With its black stones polished to a shine, the tall tower building loomed above her like a black coffin for the city. The windows glinted in the struggling sunlight, some softly lit by gaslights still positioned in their windows from the night before. Aldora eased closer to the front door, where a bellhop stood, arms folded and looking more like security than a bag handler. Slowly, she approached the entrance steps and flashed the bellhop a smile.

  “Hi,” she said as she drew close. “I’m waiting for my friend – we’re supposed to meet here so we can book a room. Do you mind if I wait here for him?”

  “Plan on being a nuisance?” he said.

  Aldora shook her head, glancing back the way she had come and spotting the first few spots of rain against the pathway. “Nope.” Assuming the weapon seller and the inspector don’t find me, but I’m not going to explain Raneth’s sword.

  “Then be my guest, ma’am,” offered the bellhop.

  “Thank you.”

  It wasn’t long after Aldora had earned her spot by the door, away from the rain under the door’s large, curved porch, that she spotted Raneth, Stonefist and Pedibastet. She frowned as they drew nearer, Raneth grimacing with each step they took. His arm was wrapped behind Stonefist’s neck and his hand gripped his friend’s shoulder tightly. Oh no. What’s happened to him now? wondered Aldora. She glanced at the bellhop, noticing that he was watching the two men closely. She shoved Raneth’s sword into his hands.


  “Hold this, please.”

  She stepped away from the entrance, quickening her pace until she reached Raneth. Pedibastet sprinted past her to huddle under the porch with the bellhop, his fur dripping rainwater.

  “What happened?” asked Aldora, taking Raneth’s injured shoulder and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He hissed through his teeth.

  “We had to get some body snatchers to take out the anti-gift metal. It was that or risk his being captured,” explained Stonefist.

  “Body snatchers?” growled Aldora. She eyed Raneth closely as he blinked at her, rainwater running down his tanned skin. “What were you thinking, Raneth?”

  “Get it out,” admitted Raneth. “Stonefist said hospitals were too dangerous.”

  He’s barely using his mouth when he talks, noted Aldora. “You need sleep. Come on, before the rain gives you a cold too. Stonefist, can you help him all the way in?”

  The Newer nodded. Aldora sprinted back to the porch and reclaimed Raneth’s sword. Walking through the doorway into the reception room, she noticed that the floor was a dark green with veins of black, polished to a shine to reflect the light from gas lamps dangling from the ceiling on dragon-like hooks. She rang the little hand bell on the reception desk, which she noted was made of the same polished stone as the floor. As Pedibastet jumped up to sit next to the hand bell, she looked through a doorway to her left and spotted a man standing up. She watched as he tugged his green waistcoat down at the front then strode over, his feet squeaking with each step he made across the green stone, his shiny black shoes adding a clap to each footfall he made.

  “I’d like a double, please,” said Aldora, giving the man her best smile. “For tonight and tomorrow.”

  “That’ll be one thousand. And how will you be paying for that?” asked the man as he strolled behind the reception desk.

  The front door swung inwards and the bellhop grabbed it and held it ajar for Raneth and Stonefist. Aldora watched as they made their way over to her, Raneth stifling a yawn.

  “What on Newer soil… is that a drunkard in my hotel? We do not accept such behaviour here. We’re a top-tier establishment, sir.”

  “He’s with me,” stated Aldora. “They both are, although only the injured man will be staying with me.”

  “He’s not drunk,” added Stonefist. “He’s had an operation and is dozy from meds, but he wanted to leave the hospital before they advised. You know how they are – you’re much more likely to die from something in hospital than whatever you went in for.”

  The front desk employee frowned as he viewed Raneth carefully, his blue eyes running along the royal official’s struggling length, before he finally gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Alright. But if he smells of alcohol in the morning, I’m kicking you all out and banning you three from ever stepping foot in here again.”

  “He doesn’t drink, so that’s fine with me,” stated Stonefist. “Got a room nearby, by any chance? Not that that he’s fat or anything, but my shoulder is starting to hurt.”

  “There’s one on the first floor. Room eight,” said the hotel employee. He readjusted the wire-framed glasses on his nose. “How will you be paying?”

  Aldora pulled the wad of notes from her pocket and counted off the required amount. “A receipt would be excellent too,” she stated. “But for now I’m happy to just have the key.”

  “Of course. Let’s get you signed in first. Name?”

  “Um. Aldora.”

  “Do you have any identification paperwork on you, Aldora?”

  Reluctantly, Aldora gave the hotel employee her passport. “Could we give my friend the key so he can see my partner into our room before he passes out?”

  “Why yes,” uttered the hotel employee, rushing to reach under the reception desk. He pulled free a locked metal box and placed it atop the desk, before using a key on his belt to unlock it. He grabbed two labelled keys from within it and pressed them into Stonefist’s waiting hand.

  “Come on, Ice,” said Stonefist gently, turning Raneth towards the stairs to the right of the entrance.

  Aldora watched them go as she answered the hotel’s questions for new customers, then she picked up Raneth’s sword and followed the boys to the room.

  “Make sure Raneth has something to eat,” suggested Pedibastet softly as he followed her. “We need him stronger.”

  Aldora opened the room door and allowed Pedibastet through before she entered. The Prince of the Cats wasted no time jumping up onto a yellow sofa and curling up on the arm nearest the door. The Dagger Bearer inspected Raneth and Stonefist, grimacing at the amount of blood that dappled the back of Raneth’s back and stained the top of his left trouser leg.

  “He’s still bleeding?” she asked as she closed the door and turned the key in the lock. She placed his sword pommel-down in the corner near the door.

  “Looks like it,” said Stonefist, turning Raneth around so he could sit in a brown armchair by Pedibastet’s sofa.

  Raneth slumped into the armchair and nodded. “Yeah it is,” he admitted. “Here.”

  He lifted his left palm up and inspected his hand. A slow curl of white mist grew in the centre of his palm, like a small snake curled in on itself. It slid up his left arm and across his shoulder. As Aldora drew nearer to his side, she noticed the white mist seep into the wound.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “Made a layer of ice in the wound. As long as I don’t let it melt for a while, it’ll help the blood clot.” He curled his long legs under him and rested his head on the arm of the chair.

  “Raneth, don’t go to sleep yet,” said Aldora softly, kneeling beside him. She gently rested a hand against his soft black hair. “Let’s have something to eat first, OK?”

  “If it makes you happy,” he said, his voice almost a grumble as he spoke more into the arm of the chair than to Aldora.

  Standing up, Aldora faced Stonefist and pointed at Raneth. “This is seriously safer than the hospitals here?”

  “Yeah. You wouldn’t get him home if he went to a hospital. I have something for you two,” said Stonefist, sliding a hand into his back trouser pocket. He withdrew a scrap of paper, which he placed into Aldora’s hand. “It’s a floor plan and some of the guard movements for the overseer’s house.” Stonefist glanced at Raneth. “I have to go. Will you be OK looking after Ice, Aldora?”

  “Of course,” said Aldora with a slight smile. “Thank you, Stonefist, for your help. I appreciate it, and I’m sure Raneth does too.”

  Stonefist nodded before letting himself out, promising to tell the staff to bring up some soup.

  “Let me see what he gave you,” requested Pedibastet as he stood up on the arm of the sofa and leaned towards Aldora. She sat on the sofa and unfolded the scrap of paper, revealing an unfinished layout of the overseer’s home. “Not as useful as a cat’s surveillance from the windows.”

  “Let’s see,” said Raneth, slowly uncurling himself from the armchair and resettling beside Aldora on the sofa. He rubbed at the corners of his eyes.

  “Here,” said Aldora, offering him Stonefist’s sketch. “Are we staying in tonight?” Please say yes, she thought, watching him rub at his eyes again. You just had surgery.

  “No. We’re going to hit the overseer’s,” said Raneth, gently taking the floorplan Stonefist had drawn. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to end this and go home.” He stretched his arms above them and rolled his shoulders. “I was faking some of that with Stonefist.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s better that he doesn’t know we can go to the overseer’s tonight, just in case he’s reporting to someone. He’s a good friend, but he’s not anyone’s best friend. This way, he’ll be at least a day late and guards over there will be low, giving us a greater chance of sneaking in.”

  “I agree – we should get this assignment finished,” replied Aldora. “But–”

  “That settles it then. We need to copy this floorplan out so we both have a copy if we get
split up. We won’t have enough time to memorise the layout.”

  Aldora scowled at Raneth. He needs rest, she thought. And it would give us more chance to remember the layout. “Why can’t we rest for a bit?”

  Raneth went to rub his wound but stopped before he touched it. He dropped his hand into his lap. “Alright. Two hours. No more than that.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Raneth

  Sprinting towards the brick wall of the overseer’s home, Raneth, Aldora and Pedibastet were silent. No inspector patrolled the side of the wall they were on, but as the inspectors’ university was behind them they could still be spotted. Raneth glanced over his shoulder at the university, looking through its fencing, checking for any inspectors patrolling the grounds. If there are any training today, they’ll be awake soon. We need to get over this wall fast.

  He turned his focus to the brick wall that enclosed the overseer’s home, protecting it from prying eyes and, in theory, from anyone planning to sneak in. He looked to Aldora and Pedibastet at his side. Bit tall for Aldora to climb up. He knelt down, interlinking his fingers into a stirrup.

  “Here, Aldora,” he uttered.

  The Dagger Bearer stepped into his hands and reached up for the edge of the wall as Raneth thrust her upwards, clenching his teeth at the discomfort racing through his injured shoulder. She held onto the top of the wall and started to pull her weight off his hands.

  “I don’t get why we don’t just fly in,” she huffed as she grasped the wall and shoved an elbow onto the other side, trying to pull herself up.

  “Because we’d be more easily spotted here.” Raneth eased back from the wall and then sprinted at it, jumping as he neared it. He trod against the wall twice, propelling himself up before he started to slip. The royal official grabbed the top and pulled himself up whilst Aldora struggled next to him. He swung his legs onto the inside of the wall.