by Eric Ugland
I pulled another dagger from my belt, a non-magical basic steel number that I got out just in time to block the blow with a loud klang. Just as that happened, someone behind me stabbed me through the gut. A sword tip came out my front, and pain blossomed from my stomach before encompassing my entire body.
Reaching back, I used the last of my mana and cast an acid glob.
My opponent was too close to move, so he got a face full of green gooey acid. He tried to scream, which was a bad idea, because the involuntary intake of breath just meant he sucked all the acid into his lungs.
He fell, pulling the sword from me with a sickening sound.
“Who are you?” the man in front of me said.
I desperately wanted to say something badass and cool, but I felt like some of my insides were going to become outsides. I dropped down to my knees.
“About to be dead,” another man said. He started a huge swing, like he was going to cut my head off.
I just shook my head, not believing it was about to happen.
And somehow, it didn’t.
A sword came out of the darkness tumbling end over end, and slammed into the man’s skull, slicing his face in half.
Klara came after the sword, running toward me.
“Get up,” she shouted, sliding to a stop next to me before hauling me up.
I felt a rush of healing, and I tried to figure out where it’d come from, but Klara was getting me moving.
“Can you get some more darkness up?” she hissed as we started limping south.
Being that it was an ability now, I used darkness, and put a big glob of darkness between us and our pursuers.
“How many are left,” I asked, really trying to walk on my own, but really failing at it.
“I took out three,” she said. “You took down two on the street, plus two in the park.”
“Four then?” I asked, hoping I’d done the math right.
“Something along those lines,” she said.
There was the sharp and unmistakable twang, and I felt another thump.
“Fuck,” I said softly.
“Just keep going,” Klara said.
“I’m trying.”
“One foot in front of the other,” she said.
Another twang, and another impact. I felt glad so much adrenaline was pumping in my system, because I wasn’t feeling the pain.
I had a small amount of mana back, so I cast Minor Illusion of us continuing down a street while we, instead, took a corner into an alleyway.
We stumbled to the ground, dropping to the ground behind a pile of crates.
“Make it home,” Klara said quietly.
“We will,” I said, “I’m feeling better.”
ALERT!
A member of your tjene has perished. You gain all un-alotted XP and un-alotted attribute points. 21492 XP and no points. All members of the tjene, save leader, gain mood debuff and have increased chance of breaking under pressure.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
I looked over at Klara. She was pale. Not breathing. There were massive cuts along her side and back, as well as heavy bolts sticking out of her.
“Hey!” I said to her sharply, and gave her a good shake.
Nothing. She was actually dead.
Two things went through my head. One, could she be revived? Was that a thing here?Two, should I immediately get revenge on the assholes who’d done this? I wasn’t sure the right thing to do, but I knew that revenge could always happen. There was probably a time limit on revivification.
I drained my mana one more time to heal myself as best I could, and then got Klara over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I ran down the alley, pausing at the other end, and seeing a carriage across the street.
Without thinking, I sprinted across the street, opened the door, and put Klara inside.
The driver looked down at me, anger already spreading across his face.
“Hey, I’m—“
“Ten gold to take me to Old Town! Fast.”
Amazing how money mends minds.
He snapped the reigns hard, and the twin black horses pulled the carriage into motion, rocketing us down the street.
I held Klara’s head in my lap, wondering what had happened. How I’d let this happen. What could I have done different. I played the fight in my head over and over again. Eleven against two. Could I have drained someone? Should I have had a sword with me instead of just daggers? What spells could I have used? Why had I run out of magic? How had I been dropped to death so quickly?
I pulled up my notifications, and I immediately saw something that made my blood boil. At myself.
Alert! A member of your tjene has used: Transfer Life.
A tjene member may trade a permanent decrease in total health in order for the tjene leader to regain lost hitpoints.
She’d given me some of her health, maybe enough that she’d been close to death while she helped my useless ass down the street and away from the ambush.
I felt sick.
This was my fault.
Klara was dead because I’d fucked up.
I leaned out the window and threw up.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
The carriage skidded to a stop in front of the Heavy Purse, making enough of a racket that several people were outside when I got out. Mornax rushed forward, pushing some of the others out of the way. He helped me out of the carriage, then grabbed Klara’s body and gently took it inside with him.
Matthew spoke to the driver, while Leofing guided me inside the Heavy Purse.
There was quite a bit of talking going on around me, but not much to me. People were giving me space.
Finally, there was some quiet. I realized Matthew was sitting next to me, and most everyone else had left the tavern.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Iron Silents ambushed us,” I said softly.
“Where?”
I explained the path I’d been taking and whereabout we’d been when we were attacked. Titus, standing over by the bar with Godfrey, nodded a few times, and then pulled out a map. He and Godfrey had a hushed conversation by the bar.
“Are you still injured?” Matthew asked.
I shook my head. I’d used my healing spell over and over during the ride, ignoring the aches coming from bottoming out on mana.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Well that’s not true,” he replied. “You’re shaking. Best case, you’re still coming down from the battle rush.”
“She’s dead because of me,” I said.
He nodded. “Yes.”
I blinked a few times. I’m not sure why I was surprised at him speaking the truth at that moment. I stood up, a little shaky, but after a few steps, I seemed to get myself back together.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Matthew asked.
“Revenge,” I said.
“No one leaves tonight,” Matthew replied, his voice hard.
“Why not?”
“Because that’s exactly what they want us to do,” Titus said, sending a glass of amber liquid in my general direction.
“They want to see what we’ll do,” Matthew said. “They want to know that we’ll rush out and fight whenever we are pricked—“
“Pricked? She’s dead.”
“And it was her choice,” a low voice grumbled from the far end of the bar.
Mornax.
He sat at a table, his face hard, staring at me with his big bull eyes.
“It was her choice to die saving you,” Mornax said. “And it was her honor to do it.”
“Listen to him, elf,” Matthew said. “You come from a different world, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here. The tjene is a sacred duty — your life is above theirs, always. No matter what you want to think, no matter what you believe, had you died in that moment, it would have been on them, and they would have failed.”
“But I come back,” I snapped.
“Doesn’t matter,” Mornax said. “When y
ou die, we suffer as well. We are one, with you as the head. As long as you remain, we can continue. But when you die, a piece of us dies as well.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said.
“It is how it works,” Mornax said, getting to his feet, his voice rising in volume. “You are in this world, Clyde Hatchett. Learn how it works.”
“No one is going out,” Matthew repeated. “The Iron Silents need to know how we react. They need to know what our strengths are if they are to take us apart. And make no bones about it: they will be going after us. Together, with everyone in the compound, we are too strong. If they know an attack will cause you to run out, they will use that to their advantage. If we don’t rise—“
“They will think we are weak,” I said.
“They know we aren’t.”
“How? Because I’ve killed some of them?”
“Yes.”
“That means nothing to them. Death means nothing to them. Don’t you get that? Death barely means anything to me — it’s just an inconvenience.”
“But you’ve beaten them before where it hurts. Their money.”
“The fact that we prevented their hold on the food and beverage industry here is barely a reason to think we beat them. I mean, it was purely accidental, and--“
“They don’t know that,” Titus said. “All they know is that you didn’t bow to them when they came calling. That’s a sure sign of strength. Each time they’ve pushed you, you’ve come back and bloodied their noses. Both Matthew and I are in agreement here. They ambushed you purely to see what the rest of us would do. If we would rush out for vengeance. But the safe move is to hold here, put our defenses up, and prepare.”
“It’s not that we’re not hitting back,” Matthew said. “Just not yet. Not until we know how to really make it hurt.”
“Fine. I’m going to bed,” I said, swallowing my rage.
Chapter Sixty
No way was I actually going to sleep. As soon as I got up to my apartment, with Mornax stationed outside to keep me from doing anything stupid, I began getting ready to go back and complete my night mission. I thought about what Matthew and Titus had said. When I removed my emotions from the mix, I realized they were being smart. Playing the long game. Going out now to get revenge, to find those guys who’d been hired to kill me? That wasn’t going to solve anything.
But getting help from Valamir would definitely mean something. That could be what let us break the Iron Silents. Which meant I had to get into Rowland’s manor house, steal the orb, and deliver it back to Valamir. And I had to do it sooner rather than later. Until we knew what help Valamir would actually give us, it would be hard to plan anything else. Going out wasn’t what I wanted to do, but it was what I had to do.
First, I had to rearm myself. I was angry I’d lost Krakentooth. I loved that dagger, but it was not the time to grieve a material possession, not when there was a real person I could be grieving. Instead, I pulled out two steel daggers. They went onto my belt.
I climbed down the secret ladder, all the way down into the basement of the Heavy Purse. It took a little work for me to remember where it was, but the secret door into the kobold housing project was unlocked. As soon as I stepped inside, all activity in the area ceased. And despite the late hour, there was plenty of activity ongoing. Things were being built, food was being cooked, and, maybe even something like a school where kobolds were teaching other kobolds. I didn’t see any of the babies, but there were some younger kobolds underfoot, and they were cute as hell. Like miniature versions of already tiny dragons. But, like I said, when I stepped through the secret door, everything stopped and all eyes were on me.
“Good evening,” I said.
“Hello,” one of the kobolds said, a younger one with bright red scales and a row of small horns down its back.
“I was wondering if Boris is about?” I asked.
There were various nods. It was clear the answer was yes, but they thought that was the extent of what they needed to answer.
“Can someone guide me to him?” I asked.
A tiny clawed hand went up from one of the smallest kobolds.
“I!” the little guy exclaimed.
Some of the other kobolds gave the wee one dirty looks, but I just held out my hand.
“Lead on, please,” I said.
The tiny kobold ran over. He had to jump up to grab my hand. I thought he’d have let go and run along, but instead, he pulled himself up my arm and sat on my shoulder.
“That way!” he exclaimed, pointing his tiny arm where I could see it. Which, you know, was right in front of my eyes. I’ll give him one thing: he was enthusiastic.
It was a quick trip. Boris was having a meal at the little ramshackle diner set up in the kobold courtyard. My tiny guide brought me over to him, then jumped down on the counter.
“Master Clyde,” Boris said, getting up from his stool.
“Finish,” I said. “No need to get up.”
I gave my guide a gold coin.
The little kobold’s eyes lit up.
Boris snatched the coin.
“Hey,” I said.
“Is not good for him to have gold,” Boris said. “Won’t know what to do.”
“He should get something for guiding me,” I said.
“Pride,” Boris said, flipping the coin back at me.
“I owe you one,” I told the little guy.
He beamed at me.
“Go,” Boris snapped, and the small kobold ran away.
“Seems mean,” I said. I thought about sitting down next to Boris, but when I looked at the construction quality of the stool, it just seemed like an easy way to get tetanus.
“Was little mean.”
“Why did you send him away?”
“He would want come with us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Every kobold wants go with you.”
I looked around. Most of the kobolds were either watching me or very obviously not watching me while I was watching them. Valid point.
“Okay, well, none of you can come with me,” I said.
“Even Boris?” Boris asked.
“Part way,” I said.
“Part way is okay,” he replied, and returned to his food, double-timing putting it into his mouth. “Where we going?”
“I need to get to a house north of here, just west of the palace. And without accidentally running into LegionHome.”
“Sewers?”
“Ideally not the whole way.”
“Hrm.”
“Do you know how to get there?”
“Looking at map,” he said, and I noticed his eyes were closed.
“Is the map in your head?”
Eyes remaining shut, he nodded.
I stood there, trying not to notice the kobolds around me returning to their normal lives.
“Can get there,” Boris said suddenly, snapping out of his map-reading trance. He poured the rest of his stew into his mouth, then set the bowl back down on the counter and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. As soon as the bowl was on the counter, a kobold popped up and grabbed it, taking it through a door where I heard water flowing.
Boris was already half-way across the newly-expanded basement, which was definitely no longer constrained to the area around the apartment building. I guessed I was standing somewhere in the middle of the street. He snapped at me, and waved, as if I couldn’t place him in the ‘crowd’ of ten kobolds milling around, trying to not watch me. I wondered if this is what celebrities felt like. Was I a kobold celebrity?
I followed him across the open square, through a small ramshackle building, and into a bedroom before getting to a door mounted behind a not-quite-straight bookshelf. Boris went straight through the door, ignoring the kobolds we woke up as we walked through.
Once in the tunnel, Boris let me walk past before locking the door behind me. Then he darted around me, going nearly sideways as he ran down the tunnel.
But he didn
’t stop running. He was excited, clapping his hands as he went down the tunnel.
I couldn’t help but smile, despite the day. I broke into a jog after him.
It was a short haul down a rough-hewn tunnel that ended at a heavy metal door. Boris used the key at his belt to unlock the door, and we stepped through.
Back into the sewers, which were disgusting. As always. The smell practically knocked me back on my ass. I choked a little.
Boris held out a cloth.
“Thanks,” I muttered, and tied it around my mouth and nose. It smelled minty. Refreshing.
Through my watering eyes, I noticed he had one around his nose as well.
“Painful tonight,” Boris said.
I nodded.
He nodded, then he started off.
I looked around for the door we came through, but I couldn’t see it. I rushed after Boris, not wanting to lose him as well.
Getting through was a slog.
There was a tense moment, where our way was suddenly blocked by a large yellow slime rising out of the muck.
Boris just stopped in his tracks, and I had the feeling he was actively not running. That it was his best ability to remain brave in the face of what had to be overwhelming fear.
I stepped in front of him, and, remembering how the Guard had tackled the slime they faced, I pulled some magic together and cast Flameweaving. I wrapped my hand in fire, pulled out a dagger, and sent the fire licking down the blade.
The yellow slime halted, seeming to sense a disturbance. Sniffing, but, you know, without a nose.
I pushed a little more mana into the spell, and the flames got larger, hotter.
“You don’t need to do this,” I said. “We’re just passing through. You could just go find another meal — now’s the time to leave.”
The slime stayed in place for a moment longer. But then, maybe because it thought things through, or maybe because it listened to what I said, but most likely because it felt the heat from the fire not going away, the slime dipped back into the poo river, and swam downstream.
I let the fire slip away, releasing the spell.