Knives in the Night

by Nathan A. Thompson

  “Karim,” I said to the scribe wizard, “do you want to take a look at this when we get back?”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, yes,” the dark-skinned wizard replied. “But I think you should look at it first. It doesn’t actually appear to use Script magic,” he said as he looked at a few of the pages I flipped open. “Just a non-magical journal describing how to perform a bunch of Ideal spells, for those who have the talent.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, sending the heavy tome into Breaker’s magical storage space—and secretly grateful that everyone else was getting their own version of a magic pocket. I turned my attention to the dagger and its scabbard. It was a large, curved blade, with a wide guard that would be useful for blocking. The handle had a series of empty insets that seemed to be designed to hold jewels, with a much larger hole on either side of the heavy pommel.

  It was heavy for a normal dagger, but everyone in my retinue, except for the fairies, were likely strong enough to wield it easily. The weapon felt well-balanced for both slashing and thrusting, and its curved blade suggested that it could penetrate the gaps in an enemy’s armor or scales.

  That said, I was pretty strapped down with super-weapons. I already had a sword that could be a magic invisibility dagger, a glowing short sword, or a basket-hilted dueling weapon. This weapon seemed to be masterfully made, about on par with any of the weapons I gained after completing each of Avalon’s Rites, but I didn’t need it.

  But that didn’t mean I didn’t know someone who would.

  So while everyone else was searching the room, just in case someone had somehow missed another hidden catch or noteworthy item concealed on Fragglerock’s withered, tattered corpse, I withdrew a number of appropriately sized soul-fulgurite gemstones and set them into the dagger’s sockets.

  I had decided Val was next on my list to receive a magic weapon from me. That might have been blatant nepotism, but I didn’t care. If she was going to insist on being a fourteen-year-old that took point in scouting and getting into all sorts of dangerous close-combat fights, she was going to have to deal with me brazenly doing whatever I could to stack the odds in her favor.

  I hadn’t made a dagger yet, so the artifact wound up being perfect. I didn’t think she had anything so well-made either, and I smiled to myself as I took the six smaller gems, each injected with the magic from one of my Ideals, and set them in. They fit perfectly, probably because the dagger was designed to accept varying soul gems in order to be used for Fragglerock’s rituals. To finish it off, I placed a larger stone into each side of the pommel, and sheathed the weapon. To my further delight, the short blade suddenly felt weightless and shrouded, as if it had become invisible once sheathed.

  “Hey, Val,” I called to my adopted sister just as everyone finished giving the room a final sweep. “Did you get anything valuable when you killed the guy?”

  “No,” my little sister glowered, “dirtbag had nothing but a cheap robe and a loincloth I wasn’t interested in searching. Kind of a letdown, honestly, given how important he was and how hard he was to kill.”

  “Well, it turns out you completed my quest, so here’s your phat loot.” I held out the sheathed dagger. “The gems all have elemental magic that should boost your power gains and assist with throwing out a quick attack spell. I left the two largest gems blank, but you’ll be able to inject your own magic into them. You could put Shadow in both, or leave one blank in case you develop another Ideal down the line.”

  Her dark eyes shone with joy as she took the weapon reverently.

  “Holy crap, bro,” she breathed as she unsheathed the weapon and marveled at it, clearly recognizing the weapon’s quality. I knew Val had been collecting light blades whenever she could, and had spent a lot of Skill points into understanding and wielding them. “This is awesome. Thank you.”

  She gave me a shy, happy smile, and that was enough for me. Val wasn’t the hugger Breena was, or at least she wasn’t in her current phase, but I didn’t need her to be.

  I needed her to be my Knife, and I needed her to be safe and sane while she was.

  I turned my head to address the rest of the group.

  “Are we done here?” I asked, and everyone nodded. “All right. I want us to clear out of here at full speed. I know the horses already left, so we’ll burn all the magic we can in order to get back to Nedjena, or at least close outside it. Weylin and the elven Wealthwalkers, I need you to use your travel Song magic, and I want every Air mage to help with a flight spell. Basically, do anything you all can to help us get away from here as quickly as possible.”

  I scanned everyone’s faces to see if I was missing an obviously better idea, but they all just nodded or murmured agreement.

  Hey Wes? Val sent through the mindlink, I think I can help shroud us.

  With your Shadow magic? I asked as we walked up the stairs. Doesn’t that take a lot of mana to maintain for a long time?

  Not with that, Val said, I mean, I think I can shroud us like your dagger can, now that I’m your Knife, or whatever.

  She sent me an impression of the power she felt through the mindlink, and I almost whistled in surprise.

  Wow, I sent back to her, yeah, you’re right. That’s exactly how the power feels when I use Carnwennan. This is amazing. I’ve got to start giving the rest of you guys actual jobs.

  Speaking of that, Val replied with a smirk as we continued to climb, I’d like to know about my salary and benefits. And for the record, I’m pretty sure you can’t say my vital guard and magic serve as my health care.

  You can have free housing, as long as you don’t mind everyone constantly losing their shit over me pulling a palace out of the ground, I told her.

  She chuckled at that as we gathered outside and began weaving our magics together.

  Val proved capable of shrouding our entire group, and there were enough Air wizards in our group to grant everyone a flight spell, thanks to the mages among the Wealthwalkers. Everyone else added whatever magic they could to increase our speed and concealment, and then we were off.

  Salima’s people had already memorized the route to and from the sealed tomb, so we flew along the same path our Risen horses had taken earlier. We soared at a careful height, not wanting to risk either being seen, in case Val’s concealment spell failed, or low enough to kick up too much sand in our wake. Thanks to our combined Air magic and the soft travel chant of the Wealthwalkers, we were able to make a speed close to what we had achieved on horseback.

  A half hour or so later, we landed on the sand close to the outskirts of Nedjena, with a few dunes still between us as cover. We had circled around to come in from the opposite direction of Fragglerock’s tomb, figuring people would be paying more attention to the region where the giant figure and explosions had come from.

  Then something clicked in my mind.

  Why wasn’t there a bigger reaction? I asked through the mindlink to my team.

  What do you mean? Karim responded quizzically, turning his head to look at me.

  They had a high-value asset on this world that wasn’t completely willing, I replied. But all they had on-site was a single elite team and a small army of Horde. They should have been concerned that he could find a way to break containment and go rogue, especially given how powerful his construct was.

  His actual body was restrained, Val revealed. He was barely breathing and stuck in some kind of force field that kept anything inside from leaving, but didn’t stop anything from reaching through it to cut or stab him.

  But with an asset that powerful, they still should have had backup nearby, in case he found a way to circumvent the wards, I argued.

  Theoretically, Eadric agreed, but that’s assuming they had the personnel to spare, while still waging wars on at least three other planets.

  Exactly, I replied grimly, and since no one else came riding out immediately, the city is either completely bare of their personnel or just down to a few spotters that don’t feel confident investigating wh
atever was strong enough to take out an Air wizard that powerful.

  I spent a moment in thought to attempt to figure out how to best use that information, then realized it could wait until we reached our destination.

  Breena sent a message spell to the elder in the Testifier college, confirming that we were okay and could use any further information they had, and then we cautiously entered Nedjena through an opening in the ruined walls. No one saw us, and not a single soul was to be found in the streets. Despite being such a large group, we filtered through the alleyways completely unnoticed. I tried to figure out whether that was because of our magics and skill, or simply the fact that people were keeping their heads down while remaining too afraid to pay the slightest bit of attention to anything happening outside.

  It was another lucky break, but I was still frustrated.

  I didn’t know what to do. We had done a fantastic job of shutting down a powerful mage in Warren’s employ, but I needed to figure out how to kick the rest of his people off this world. I’d have to track down where they were stationed, calculate how quickly I could get to them and kill them, and plan how to shut them down from coming back, either from projecting their bodies or returning through one of the many Pathways connected to this world—all while preparing for their inevitable counterattack as they finally realized they had to take me seriously as a threat.

  It was becoming increasingly obvious that I wouldn’t be able to do all of that myself, no matter how strong I had become. I literally could not be in multiple places at once, and I still couldn’t teleport across the Expanse like Stell could. But I didn’t think I could really message her at the moment, and she’d clearly had to plan out whatever written messages she left for me in advance.

  I’d also need to link up with Stell’s local Satellite, and I didn’t have the first clue about the best way to do that either. I could just wait for her in the city, but I had no idea how quickly the Malus Earthborn would respond, and how heavy the response would be. If the timing went really badly, she could inadvertently arrive at a time which would allow the Malus Earthborn, or even worse, Cavus, to intercept her before she reached us.

  I said I’d wait until we got back to make a decision on all of this, I reminded myself, but my brain wouldn’t listen. It was a huge flaw in my plan, and the only things I could think to do were to either stay in Nedjena and gather more information, giving my enemy more time to regain the initiative, or to strike out at the Malus Order on my own, with the hope that I’d learn anything crucial on my own, before it was too late.

  Then I noticed the Dunegraced elves inhaling carefully as they led us through the city, using the power of the Breath to help them navigate.

  Oh yeah, Teeth said, randomly deciding to speak up, we can do that too, now, right?

  I let my newfound relief drown out the frustration I felt over forgetting about my very recent acquisition of the very convenient power, and focused on watching the newest members of my retinue use that same gift to help us safely return to our old rally point.

  The ruined building looked the same as it had when we’d left, with no signs that anyone had come around since our departure. The Pathway especially looked as if it had remained hidden and undisturbed, so we filed into the building quietly and sat down for a brief rest, while Petalbell quickly activated the Pathway to deliver the Pit victims somewhere that they could be safe and recover.

  As we settled into the ramshackle shelter, I inhaled deeply, then slowly let out the Breath.

  I unleashed my intent into the wind and became as still as possible, waiting for it to interact with the surrounding world and then return.

  It reached out much, much farther than it had before, stretching far beyond the streets of Nedjena, even a significant distance past the dunes surrounding the city. I abruptly realized that it had absorbed much of the power released from the death of the ex-Stellar Councilor.

  And it was interacting with the power of the Well and my Woadtattoo. The power of the two other worlds had pulsed as I used the Breath, emphasizing my intent to find Anahita and learn the plans of my enemies.

  With that added interaction, the life-like invisible power swept far out into the Dunes of the Golden Sands, sweeping for incalculable miles. In the hazy vision of my mind’s eye, I watched it circle one nebulous city, drift through its streets, sweep up intentions and emotions I couldn’t feel yet, then depart, unsatisfied, to resume its expedition across the sands. It traveled for many leagues until it stopped at another settlement, repeating the process and then continuing its journey.

  I tried to pay as much attention to the vision as possible, but I couldn’t make out any detail beyond the shapes of the largest structures. I did learn that the villages and cities of this desert world only covered a tiny portion of it, similar to the way that the tribes of the Woadlands had only settled a small portion of the heavily forested planet. The Breath continued to sweep through the cities in its Path quickly, reaching the edge of civilization and somehow being aware of it.

  Then my mind saw it consider passing further out into the dune-covered wastes, shudder suddenly, and abruptly turn to circle back toward a new city near the boundary, skirting the edges of the wall in order to avoid whatever had made it recoil from the sands beyond. Methodically, it began to explore every single city and dozens of clearly marked Pathway points, before it finally made its way back to me.

  The whole process had taken over an hour. I was dimly aware of my retinue staring at me and wondering aloud if they should forcibly gain my attention. The Wealthwalkers assured them that I was fine and that what I was doing was perfectly normal, and Breena added that she was also checking, and that my brain totally wasn’t melting or anything right now.

  I blinked as my reverie ended and opened my mouth to address them, but just then, the Breath returned and hit me with the full force of the imprints it had gathered.

  Quiet desperation.

  The pressure of trying not to surrender everything they held dear.

  The counterweight of avoiding resistance that was both futile and led to the deaths of their loved ones.

  The uncertainty of being unable to see any definitive change to their current situation.

  A hope that help would still come.

  The knowledge that help had not come in half a century.

  The imprint ended, and another took its place.

  Anger.

  Hate.

  How dare he?

  He was nothing.

  A broken, crippled boy.

  Son of a dead man now long-shamed.

  His victories were unfair, and his power unearned.

  They would crush him.

  They knew where he was.

  They would give him their full attention, bring down their full might upon him, and make him suffer for their inconvenience.

  Like he had never suffered before.

  Fuck them, I thought as the imprint ended, though I made note of the location where the Breath had picked up the sensations. Then I stilled myself to process the next sensation.

  She was coming, damn it.

  He should just wait right there.

  Of all the places to show up, he had picked the least convenient spot, and at the least convenient time.

  Blast him.

  Why had he come now, when she had gotten so much done on her own?

  Where had he been all this time?

  He should have come sooner, like he was supposed to.

  What could he even do, now that he was finally here, decades late?

  He had better give her a good excuse, or she was going to let him have it when she saw him.

  And he had better not make things worse while he was here.

  …and what was he like?

  Was he going to be like the others?

  Better?

  Worse?

  What did the rest of her think of him?

  What did he think of the rest of her?

  And why was she even asking
herself?

  Fair enough, I thought as I processed what had to be Anahita’s emotions.

  She sounds hot, Teeth interjected, spending all of a single second to make that judgment.

  How do you even get that? I asked my draconic side incredulously.

  I don’t know, the New Guy said with an invisible shrug. She wants to kick the crap out of you. That’s just hot to me.