"I may not be able to see as you do, friend, but I can see auras, and that is all I need."
"You still be a creepy giant blue woman," Bit snickered.
"And you remain an odious little man," Tanna replied flatly. "Though I will be honored to stand in battle by your side."
"And I you," he told her with a wink.
By Ramora's side, Flick stared at the table, his fist curling inward steadily as the Dwarf’s rage built. "Pay, indeed. Not just for the crimes committed against Ramora, but for all his sins against Heaven."
"Including the sixty-eight of our brothers and sisters who lie dead by his hand," Sabra agreed. "For that, I will take those offending hands, and shove them up his ass!"
Rick bowed his head slightly, nodding his assent with them all. "First, we must formulate our plan of attack, as well as learn how to work as a team. Most of us are accustomed to working solo, though Bit and I have a good deal of experience in cooperative fighting."
"Aye, not to worry lasses," the Halfling smirked. "You be in good, strong, capable hands with me. I be molding you with the gentlest of touches, I assure you."
Flick snorted a laugh at that. "Seems to me the ladies are more interested in each other’s hands. Not that I blame them."
"Oy, now," Bit cried. "Give a lad a chance to show what he can do at least!"
"No," Tanna intoned.
"Never," Sabra glared.
"Not in this life," Izra smirked.
Ramora shrugged and shook her head, giving him a sad, and somewhat sisterly smile.
"Bloody Hells," the Halfling grumbled. "Shot down four straight. Isn't fair, is what it is."
Rick coughed slightly. "If we could put the sex talk away for a bit."
"Aw, and I was just working my way up her thigh again," Izra moaned, Ramora removing the Elf's hand once more. "This time felt lucky, too."
"You two can play later," Untar said as he swept into the room. "For now, we have much to discuss."
Leto and Rick rose quickly, the rest of them remaining where they were as the King of Lansing crossed to join them at the table. To both men’s surprise, it was them the Lord of House Fel looked at curiously. Slowly, they sat, unaccustomed to such manners from a King.
"Can I take it Lord Westerman has already informed you of Lady Descartes' plan to join us in Ricmar?" Untar asked.
"He has," Bit replied. "Though I must say, that's overpowering the pot with seed by more than a little, isn't it?"
"Not once you hear what I have to say," Untar replied, holding out a hand, into which Leena dropped a stack of documents before sinking back from sight again.
Holding them up, Untar told them, "Nine Blessed died to bring us this information, including our dear friend, Collette Reisengard."
By the looks of shock and gasps that surrounded her, Ramora realized they hadn't heard yet. Saddened again, she stared at the table, remembering her dear friend, her easy smile, and the years of warrior training she'd gone through under her watchful eye.
"I don't believe it," Bit snapped, rising. "Colly would never be bested by a bastard like this!"
"So, it was her," Rick sighed, burying his face in his hand. "She was the sixty-eighth."
"Son of a whore," Flick growled.
Ramora shook her head, then lifted her fingers to confirm it, but was stopped as Tanna said softly, "Ramora has seen that it's true. We must accept that. Collette is fallen."
Bit staggered, then sagged back into his chair. Silence fell around the table for a moment as each of them struggled to come to terms with the loss of a friend, and a woman who'd been like a mentor to many of them.
"Her legacy will never be forgotten," Untar said quietly. "She gave her life so Marissa Outil could bring us this."
Izra's head snapped up. "Marissa? Is she safe?"
"She lives," Untar nodded. "But from what I understand, she was badly wounded in the flight from Draco's stronghold. It's unknown how long she'll survive, or what shape she'll be in should she pull through. The best healers in Isnar are tending her as we speak."
Izra grimaced before her face fell into sadness. Ramora slid a hand over, and squeezed her knee, getting a thin smile back from the Deep Elf. Marissa Outil, a legendary Deep Elf wizard and Blessed of Isel, had nearly fallen against Draco. This did not bode well.
"I know this is shocking, and grieves us all to hear it," Untar said after a minute. "But if we are to make this monster answer for his sins, we must focus our attentions on what so many suffered and died to bring us."
"And just what is it we paid with the likes of Collette for, if I may ask?" Bit got out, voice thick with bitterness.
Untar slid the documents out onto the table, letting them take a look. "A diagram of Draco's stronghold south of the Eastern Heights, a roster of how many units he had, and best of all, detailed notes on his troop movements all over the area."
As each of the Blessed pulled a bound stack of papers to them, reading over the information blood had been paid to obtain, they marveled at it more than a little. With this, they could formulate a plan.
"General Alimon will be in charge of organizing the attack plan," Untar declared. "I'm certain, knowing his reputation, he'll want to hear each of your opinions. When not working on that, you'll be training to work as a single unit, a perfectly cohesive team. You have three weeks, then you ship out to bring this Demon-loving son-of-a-bitch to justice. Any questions?"
"Just one," Bit said as he flipped through the documents. "Will there be wine served during all of this?"
Untar sighed heavily, but smiled all the same. "I'll see what I can do."
"Then I'm happy as a pig in shit, your great and mighty great and mightiest," the Halfling chuckled with a sloppy bow.
Izra folded Ramora's hand into her own, gripping it tightly as she leaned over to whisper, "We're gonna make him sorry he was ever born, sweetheart."
Despite the seriousness of their goal, she couldn't help but smile.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"WAIT,” ESTEBAN GASPED. "You're a Blessed of the High Gods?"
Rayne looked at him with a smirk. "What? Did you think all of us were big, strong, hulking warriors with muscles for miles?"
The Werecat shuffled his feet a little. "Kind of."
"Oh," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Well, surprise! We aren't! Though, what I lack in physical prowess, I more than make up for in brains, technical skill, and if I don't mind saying so myself, which I completely don't, staggering beauty. Wouldn't you agree, sweet Chara?"
"Uh," she fumbled, still staring at the Half Elf in absolute disbelief. "Sure. Yeah. Okay."
"Chara!" Esteban exclaimed. "Don't encourage the crazy lady!"
"Hey!" Rayne yelped. "I'm not crazy! I'm eccentric! That's completely different! It's acceptable crazy!"
"Hold on," Chara said, putting a hand on Esteban’s arm to still him. "Why didn't you just tell us what you are right away?"
Rayne gave her a slightly maniacal grin. "The old Divine Gift works better if I get your auras all stirred up a bit. Let's me see more than the casual conversation normally would. Don't take it personally, I just wanted to get a bead on the two of you, and let me tell you, what I saw, woo wee! You two are quite valuable, let me say, not that you could stop me, since I already said it, but you get the picture, which reminds me, either of you guys interested in buying a magic picture taker? I invented it a while ago, but lost it somewhere in here, but if I can find it, I'd totally sell it to you, so long as you promise to only use it for the most vulgar of means, if you get my drift, which Mr. Cat there doesn't, I can tell, but not to worry, it'll be a girl secret, am I right?"
Chara held a finger up, realized she had no idea what the Half Elf had just said, and slowly let it drop. "Uh huh."
Invisible to the mortals, Rakiss was panicking. A Blessed of Agrid, one powerful enough to read the value of a person’s life from their aura, and worst of all, it was her! He didn't need this, and after pacing frantically for a
minute, trying to figure out what to do, finally accepted there was only one way to get the two out of this shop, and as far from the devious little Half Elf as possible.
"Dint," he bellowed. "Get down here! Now!"
A few minutes passed as Rakiss scanned the Heavens for any sign of Rayne's Ascended. After a moment, the demigod appeared, yawning as his Cow tail swished erratically. Looking over the other Ascended in boredom, he yawned again and scratched his butt.
"Dint," Rakiss growled. "Tell her to shut up!"
The Ascended of Agrid stared at him for a minute, then at Rayne, then back at him before asking in a sleepy tone. "Why?"
Rakiss fumbled about with that for a moment. "Because I said so!" he finally declared.
"Ummmmm," Dint drawled out slowly. "Yeah, no."
Startled, Rakiss closed in on the other demigod. "Listen to me, Dint. I want her to stop talking, right now, while I figure out how to get these two out of her shop. Understand?"
"Sucks to be you," Dint shrugged. "I dunno if you noticed or not, brother, but Rayne never stops talking. She talks to herself while she works, she talks while she's eating, and man, trust me on this, she talks in her sleep."
Fuming Rakiss stared at the laconic Ascended for a moment. "Just find a way, or I'll take it up with Agrid."
Dint laughed at that. "Go for it, buddy. Don't ask me why, but Agrid loves listening to Rayne ramble. Never did get that myself, but you know how it is. Different strokes for different folks."
"Dammit to all the Hells," Rakiss snarled.
Dint gave him a lazy-eyed look. "You should probably take it easy, dude. All that stress, it's bad for your aura, ya know?"
"What's bad for my aura is having that blabbermouth Blessed of yours risk upsetting everything I've been working towards for years with that girl!" Rakiss shouted.
Looking over Chara and Esteban, the other demigod shrugged. "What's so special about her anyway? Looks like an average person to me."
"Never mind that, you slow-witted buffoon," the other Ascended growled. "Just get her away from them!"
Dint gave him a sad look. "Aw, man, that really hurt my feelings, ya know? Here I am being all friendly, and expressing interest in your pet project, and you gotta go say something mean like that. Just ain't right, buddy."
"Do I look like I care?" Rakiss raged.
Dint smiled at him warmly. "Not really, which is why I think maybe you need some fresh air."
"I don't..." Rakiss trailed off, staring around at the street. Staggered, he made for the store, only to be repulsed.
"What the Hells?" he stammered out as it dawned on him Dint had expelled him from Rayne's shop, and forbidden him reentry. "How can he do that?"
"Like I just did," Dint said as he stuck his head through the wall. "Why don't you try meditating for a while, buddy? I find it does wonders to balance my chi and keep my aura clean. I'll bring you some tea, too, if you like."
"What I'd like," the other Ascended snapped, only to be cut off as Dint shook his head and vanished back inside.
"Gods damn it," Rakiss grumbled.
Unaware of the battle of wills taking place between the demigods, Chara, Esteban and Rayne had continued talking, with Rayne doing the bulk of the heavy lifting on that front. Despite their best efforts, the other two could hardly get a word in edgewise with the motor-mouthed Blessed.
"Wait, back up," Chara said, finally managing to interrupt the Half Elf's rambling monologue. "What was that about our auras?"
"Hmm?" she asked. "Oh, that, yeah, never mind that. Let's talk about the pretty, pretty, shiny, toys you've brought me."
Nonplussed, Chara handed the two mystic weapons over to her. Rayne oohed and aahed at them, holding them up to the light as she did. Esteban maintained his uncertainty about the wisdom of this, but Chara had been raised to always trust in the Blessed, even if you weren't sure why you did it.
"Seriously, whoever wove these enchantments was an artist," the Half Elf told them. "Just look at the way they mesh together to create a single lattice! It's beautiful!"
"I'll take your word for it," Chara sighed. "Can you recharge them or not?"
"Of course I can," Rayne told her. "I'm a sorceress, aren't I?"
"That question does beg to be answered," Esteban muttered.
Rayne laughed hysterically at that. "Hey! He's funny! And observant! I like that in Cats, the whole observant thing, with the observing. It's so observational! More so than the sorcerer who taught me sorcery anyway. Or the wizard who taught me wizardry, or the druid who taught me druidism, or the cleric who taught me clericy. Wait. Is clericy a word? Ah, who cares, it is now. Man, you've got to tell me where you got this. It's something else. Same place you got Mr. Cat there I assume?"
"My name is Esteban," he groused, then paused, staring at her in wonder. "Wait. You can't possibly know all those magic traditions. Unless..."
Rayne smirked at him as Chara glanced back and forth between the two. "Unless what?"
"She's a Spellweaver," Esteban answered in an awed tone.
Rayne's eyes narrowed slightly. "You really are very observant, aren't you, pretty kitty? I like that in a man. Or I would, if I was into men, which I'm not, though you probably noticed that already, since I did all the groping of Chara there, and you being observant and all."
Chara took an involuntary step back, her ingrained trust of Blessed clashing with her life-long lessons that Spellweavers were dangerous, to be trusted under no circumstances, as they were thieves, charlatans, and murderers to the last. Slowly, her faith in Heaven won out.
"That can't be right," she said slowly.
"Afraid it is," Rayne told her, spinning the mystic handguns on the counter as she jerked her goggles back down to watch them. "But never mind that. You should know by now that you can't believe everything you’re told. If you did, you wouldn't be dating the fur ball there, now would you, what with Werebeasts all being savage animals in the service of the Demon Gods, am I right?"
"Now see here," Esteban snorted in outrage.
"Point is," Rayne cut him off, looking back at them as she lifted one side of her goggles so they could see the twinkle in her topaz eyes. "Some stories you're told to frighten you into being a good little girl are just straight up fables. Isn't that so, Mr. Esteban?"
Chagrined, he slumped and nodded. "Indeed it is, Lady Rayne."
"Good, now that we got that sorted,” she exclaimed, hopping up on the counter. "I'll need some time to study the matrix of spellwork that went into making these cute little toys before I can properly channel mystic energy back into them. Give me, oh, let's say, a week, and they'll be good as new, all for you. How's about it, sweet Chara? Sound like a deal?"
Seeing her mulling it, Esteban leaned down, saying, "We shouldn't leave them with her, beloved. She's a Spellweaver. They're not to be trusted."
"She's also a Blessed," Chara replied.
"The mark could be a fake, meant to lure the unsuspecting into a trap," the big Cat pointed out.
Chara shook her head. "It isn't. She's for real."
"I don't feel comfortable with this," he sighed.
"I know," she said. "But I'm going to trust her."
Glancing back at the crazy woman who was spinning around on the counter alongside the mystic weapons, Esteban let her know with a surly growl, "You'd best be here when we come back."
"Where else would I be?" Rayne snickered. "I live upstairs."
Nodding, Chara took her lover by the hand. "We'll be back in a week."
"See you then," Rayne cried, waving enthusiastically as they made their way to the door, exiting onto the street.
As the door swung shut, she lowered her arm, staring after them with a dark look on her face, until Dint materialized behind her, leaning on the counter. Picking up one of the mystic weapons, she studied it for a moment, then tapped it against her cheek, thinking hard.
"Odd pair, those two," she said slowly.
"They weren't alone, either," her Ascended told h
er.
"Really, now?" she asked.
He nodded. "An Ascended, though he seems to have abandoned, or been removed from, his proper position."
"What was his interest in them?" Rayne asked.
Dint shrugged. "Hard to say. He mentioned something about having invested years in the young lady, though."
"That certainly explains her messed-up aura," the Half Elf said thoughtfully. "The Cat’s as well. He's been manipulating them."
"If that's the case, he's violated the laws of the Ascended," the demigod replied, face darkening.
"Yup," she agreed. "Though I'd wager that has to do with his lack of proper position. He's been given clearance to toy with them."
Dint considered that for a moment. "So, what should we do?"
"Recharge her weapons," Rayne said with a shrug. "Whatever's going on, we should just stay out of it, for now, at least. Judging from what I glimpsed in her aura, that woman is extremely valuable to someone."
"How valuable?" her Ascended asked, suddenly curious.
"More than you can imagine," she replied, tone heavy with worry. "Enough to risk her soul."
Dint frowned. Someone in Heaven was playing a dangerous game. For once, he was glad he didn't know more. Glancing at his Blessed, his frown deepened as he saw the wistful look that played over her features.
"Did you see something else?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said slowly. "I saw her soul."
The Ascended gave her a bemused look. "That's sort of how the Divine Gift works, Rayne."
"No," she replied with a smile. "I saw it, and it sang to me."
Dint's expression turned to confusion. "I don't think I follow."
"She's the one," Rayne told him with a wide smile. "She's my angel, the one I've been waiting for."
"Still lost," he admitted.
She giggled. "Do you know the Elven story of the twin souls?"
He could see it was going to be one of her enigmatic days.
Ramora and Leto waved goodbye to their fellow Blessed as they departed the castle, going their separate ways. Rick and Bit were staying at an inn near the dockyards, while Flick was sleeping at his cousin's house in the upscale Hadar District. Tanna and Izra had taken rooms on the eastern end of the city, while Sabra was crashing at a flop house in the slums, over a tavern.
Rise (War Witch Book 1) Page 34