Knives in the Night

by Nathan A. Thompson

  I then turned to address Teeth.

  You know why we can't just blow them all up, I said firmly.

  The hell we can't! Teeth snarled back. We've been turning these assholes into paste every time we've fought them.

  And that won't last forever, I insisted. We've caught them by surprise every. Single. Time. Because they don't know how strong we are. The longer that remains true, the more we can maximize our damage, and minimize our collateral. You really think this city—our city, since we're this world's Planetary Lord—won't become a smoking ruin if we go all-out with a bunch of other mages?

  Fine, Teeth snarled. But I'm tired of people being afraid of me like this. This is... he struggled to say. This is bad power...it's like meat that's gone rotten, or some meat substitute that causes cancer. I hate it.

  Agreed, I replied, still struggling with the same disgust. So think of the real power we'll gain, after we slaughter all these assholes and these people realize that they can trust us, and not live in fear anymore.

  Teeth went silent as he considered that, and I went back to finishing Gustav's patrol.

  Thirty more minutes of terrified people scampering away from me, and it was all over. That was literally all the idiot did for the day, and again, all of the other Malus Men kept a safe distance from him, so I had free time for the rest of the day.

  I used it to contact my retinue. Val and the others were still on their way. They had found mounts, but they wouldn't be here for at least another day. I shared what info Anahita had about the city, including the likely locations of the Horde Pit, put up with some ribbing from the three Testifiers, and broke off communication.

  CHAPTER 33: DEADLY GRACE

  Then, when the time came, I headed for the Malus office.

  Warren's people had taken over the palace-like structure that used to belong to Sejmera's former ruler, back when the Golden Sands was still a collection of city-states. The performance would take place in a large room, clear in the center, but with small tables and large pillows in the place of chairs surrounding it.

  The terrified servants waved me in, directing me to sit at the table closest to the center.

  The Malus operatives, to my blissful relief, said nothing to me.

  They didn't even look at me, except to throw some jealous glances.

  I had learned that Gustav was unpopular even with the other Malus Men. Part of that was because the imposters were supposed to be distant from the Malus Men in the beginning, to work better as double agents, so they weren't really seen as part of the team. Another reason was that the rest of Warren's people saw them as useless, because they proved completely incapable of tricking any local longer than a few minutes.

  Finally, Gustav himself was a flattering little snitch who had weaseled his way into all kinds of favors from the local leadership, one of whom was walking over to me right now.

  "Hello, Gustav," the tall, dark-haired man said as he stood next to my table. "I trust your meeting today went well?"

  "Well enough," I replied, lounging against the table with a smirk. "She'll cooperate. Said she loves her little brother, and all that shit."

  "Good," the older man replied. Like the rest of the Malus operatives, he had cast aside his gear for some comfortable silk robes. "I'm allowing this, but I want you to remember your part of the bargain."

  "Don't break her too soon," I drawled, as I struggled to keep a headlock around my raging disgust. "Draw her in bit by bit, until she believes there's no escape, and no reason to keep resisting."

  "And?" the other man prompted with a raised finger. "Most importantly?"

  "Get her to share the secrets of how their special magic works," I recited. "Don't worry, Captain. You can count on me."

  "I had better be able to," the local Malus boss said as he got up from the table. "I'll leave you to enjoy your special show. But remember: don't destroy your new toy before you have something useful to show for the rest of us."

  "Absolutely, Captain," I replied, "thank you for trusting me with this. I won't let you down."

  "See that you don't," the Captain said before walking back to his own more comfortable seat back against the wall.

  Serving girls walked out and began pouring drinks for everyone.

  I tasted mine to make sure everything was going to plan, and tasted the poison I had provided Breena earlier.

  That meant that the trickiest part was over. Gustav didn't have any special access to the palace's wine cellar, and I didn't want to risk casting the poison spell in front of several dozen Malus operatives.

  So I had turned some of my blood into poison in advance, bled it into a flask, then provided to Breena, who cast a Wood magic preservation spell on it, then shrunk it down to size with fairy magic and carried it back to Anahita.

  Between the two of them, as well as the connections some of the dancers had among the captive palace staff, they were able to slip my poison into the wine set aside for tonight's use.

  The Malus Members drank it by the glass, confident that their Descent-enhanced bodies could handle the alcohol, and confident that it was safe to drink, since before yesterday, Anahita hadn't really used her poison in the last few years or so, and even then she had never used it on this massive a scale.

  These bastards were going to be in for a real bad trip, I reflected darkly, and they didn't even know it. I looked around to see if there were any guards on duty, and saw about four guards kitted out in black breastplates and chain mail.

  They appeared to be low-ranking Malus operatives who drew the short straw and had to work during the night's festivities.

  Don't worry, Breena sent to me as she felt me analyze them. The staff served them drinks before they began guard duty. They're already poisoned.

  That was more good news, and I started to wonder if everything was going too well in my favor—until I remembered how I had spent over an hour of today disguised as a monster that terrified old women and children.

  And then, of course, my hearing picked up the first real bad news of the day.

  "Are you sure?" the Malus Captain asked.

  "I heard him myself," the asshole next to him replied. I didn't know this one's name, because he wasn't actually part of the local Malus branch. "He agreed to Warren's idea. If he couldn't catch her by today, he would start passing over the cities and turning his frustration on the inhabitants themselves—just like he did with her family so long ago.”

  "I thought he was leaving us the worlds?" the Captain whispered. "We've got a good system set up. Even with that bitch running around."

  "Warren pointed out that there are plenty of small population centers that we wouldn't miss, but she certainly would. The Thing can start there, do whatever he wants to the people, and she won't be able to retaliate at him, like she can with us. The only thing she'd be able to do would be to let the people suffer a fate that's apparently worse than the Horde Pits, or to offer herself in their place."

  "Hmph," the Captain snorted. "If he had just done that in the beginning, he would have already had her by now, and save the rest of us a lot of trouble."

  "Warren's actually pointed that out to him a number of times," the liaison whispered back. "But he seems squeamish about eating anyone that isn't the Steward, or one of her bodies. He won't reveal why. At any rate," the man said, his voice growing louder. "It's a moot point. The business in Tajam had pretty much helped him corner the bitch yesterday. And he told Rhodes that if one of her orphanages didn't suddenly collapse into a bottomless black pit that permanently emitted haunting screams by noon earlier today, then that meant that he would have caught her. So everything's good now. He got his edible little toy, and our problems here are over. Though why you're letting Gustav have his fun before the rest of your crew is pretty puzzling to me."

  "Gustav has his uses," the captain replied. "Besides, if anything happens to him, he's the most expendable of our group. And if anything happens to the girl, well, she's the most expendable of the dancers. Now, le
t's sit back and watch the show."

  The visiting officer shrugged, leaned back and sipped his drink.

  As a few of the lights were dimmed, I tried to work out the implications of their conversation.

  As best as I could tell, Cavus was supposedly about to get smart with hunting Stell's Satellites, or at least Anahita.

  He had to have known about the guilt Stell felt about escaping the fate that the rest of her family had suffered, because the bastard had taunted her over being the only one to escape multiple times. And despite being so fucking creepy and crazy, he wasn't stupid. He had managed to ally with the old Stellar Council, defeat the most powerful Starsown on their home world, and remain in command of Rhodes' entire organization. And he was clearly impatient about trying to devour my friend.

  So why hadn't he stooped to harming others?

  He could have even threatened Stell with me, I realized, back when I was held captive by Warren's people.

  But instead, every time he went after one of her Satellites, he had tried to catch them alone.

  And had gone into a seething rage over my interference.

  I decided that the only reason he hadn't resorted to collateral damage yet was because he couldn't do so without getting something that he wanted.

  He needed Stell, somehow, before he could consume anyone else.

  He had told his underlings that he would resort to it today, anyway, and attack an orphanage, but all signs showed that he hadn't.

  Why?

  Was it because of the Fiend? Was it just because I had shown up?

  I didn't know.

  All I could do, though, was help Anahita figure out how to fight Cavus and win.

  Even if that meant getting the shit beat out of me until Stell had her breakthrough.

  Crown her, the quiet voice said in my mind, and write love on her arms.

  Fair enough, I thought back.

  More lights dimmed, until there was only candle-light illumination. I heard a small bell tinkle, and then robed figures strolled out into the middle of the room.

  To my relief, they all wore long, brightly colored robes and gowns that covered their figures. They also wore brightly colored veils over their faces, and golden headdresses adorned their dark hair.

  A couple of the Malus dirt bags behind me grumbled about their being too covered up, but I ignored them.

  Or at least, I ignored their words, and paid attention to their expressions, seeing if the poison we had given them had any effect yet.

  They looked drowsy, which could have been attributed to the ambience in the room.

  They also looked irritable, which could have been attributed to the fact that they were still restraining themselves from being the kind of douchebags that they all knew they had the potential to be, deep down in some special part of themselves.

  But both of them together was unlikely, given their enhanced bodies and the fact that they had already been told that none of them were going to get what they wanted tonight.

  I turned my attention back to the Ghawazee, realizing that I had missed their introductions and that I still needed to be in character for just a little longer.

  The long gowns swayed ever so slightly, and with the ring of a bell, the women of Sejmera began to dance, to the slow beat of a drum.

  They moved in a line at first, taking long, graceful steps that made their robes and gowns lift up ever so slightly, though it didn’t even reveal their ankles yet. Then they stepped again, and this time I could make out that they were stepping in such a way that made them change direction with every step. That in turn, made their robes and dresses billow out, and the women twirled to make their robes billow out even higher.

  As the dresses billowed, I could see an additional layer of clothing underneath, a slightly thinner, looser, dress of a different color, that flared out as well whenever they twirled or spun.

  And underneath that dress was yet another, thinner layer of a different color, that also flared out when they spun, though at a much lower angle.

  There were enough different layers of clothing to make it look like each dancer had become a woman-sized, multi-layered flower with each row a different bright color that somehow complemented the ones above or below it. The colors were always red, orange, yellow, and pink, but each woman’s garments started and ended in a different color than the women around them.

  And somehow, all of their fabric reflected in the candlelight and cast their colors across the room, painting sunsets over every dimly lit surface.

  The beauty of the dance overwhelmed me. I couldn’t even bring myself to keep up Gustav’s wretched smirk.

  The only thing I could bring myself to do was to sit back and enjoy the kaleidoscope of sunsets and flower petals that the dancers had somehow created with their performance.

  Even the dragon in me was moved, and I felt Teeth’s awe in every graceful, color-producing twist that painted the room with several colors at once.

  Is this their magic? I wondered to myself, before another flash of garments swept my mind away.

  Another graceful twist brought the troupe closer to my table, close enough to where it felt as if their twirls and pivots were sending flower petals across the wind to caress my face.

  Then, somehow remaining in formation, one of the dancers came even closer, and her next twirl brought the bright-red hem of her gown directly across my face.

  The touch was feather-light, not even enough to make me sneeze.

  I blinked in surprise, opening my eyes just in time to catch another hem of fabric, this one orange, across my right cheek.

  Again, I blinked in surprise, and again, another hem of fabric—this time yellow, brushed across my left cheek, brushing it with only the very tip.

  Finally, the edge of the pink dress passed along the tip of my nose just long enough to tickle it. When it pulled back, the woman’s veiled face flashed across my vision for a single instant.

  She winked at me, then pivoted away from my table.

  Teeth and I took a moment to work out what had just happened.

  Before we could finish, we noticed that an orange handkerchief was now lying on our table.

  I looked back up to try and find the dancer, but the women were all bowing now, and withdrawing.

  I realized I couldn’t even pick my admirer out of the crowd.

  Even as I suspected I knew who it was.

  “The hell?” I heard one of Warren’s creeps mutter behind me. “I thought she didn’t even like him?”

  “Maybe it was a different one?” another Malus Man asked.

  “Whatever,” the first one grumbled. “Are they going to come out again? And if they do, are they going to finally show some skin, or are they gonna wear those goddamned burkas again?”

  Teeth growled at the idiot, but then another bell sounded, and a smaller group of women returned to the center of the room, each having a confident bounce in their step.

  This group had discarded their robes, gowns, and part of the jewelry in their headdresses. They wore billowing white silk pants, and brightly blouses of varying colors that left their arms bare. Across their waists were broad, thick sashes. They still wore veils, but I could have sworn that each woman was wearing a different color of veil than she had worn in the first dance.

  Along their bare arms and on the ankles of their bare feet were colorful bracelets and anklets dotted with tiny silver bells.

  None of which had so much as tinkled as they walked to the center of the room.

  Now, though, as they each extended a leg and touched the floor, the bells on their bodies all tinkled briefly.

  In unison.

  The women all twisted their extended legs slightly, and the bells all rang again.

  Then they began to spread out, forming a circle, and began dancing again.

  This time, however, instead of the long, sweeping steps of their last dance, they made quick, careful movements.

  And they created a bell choir with every step
and twist of their limbs.

  Each woman seemed to be playing a different song with her movements, and each timed their music to complement each other’s.

  The bells began to echo, and soon it sounded like dozens of different melodies were playing in this one room, as the brightly colored women in its center swayed and shook their limbs.

  One set of bells jingled loudly in my left ear. I turned and saw nothing, but then they tinkled again on my right, and I whirled in time to see one of the dancers swaying right next to my table.

  She swayed a hypnotizing circle around my table, arm-bells creating a new melody, with the ankle-bells changing the tempo with every long step. When she passed behind me, she jingled her arm-bells next to my ears again with a quick flick of her wrist.