Light of the Outsider

by Matthew Wayne Selznick

Something is going away.

  Something, he thought or felt, I need.

  Something I will miss.

  So much.

  Some—

  Chapter Thirty One

  Rajen

  The light of Amang-huru winked out.

  Rajen's Science withdrew as well. If she focused, she could make out faint, flickering splinters of probability, like the memory of lightning arcing across her field of view.

  Her eyes adjusted to the pale, harshly ordinary, relatively dim illumination from several glowglobes mounted to the cellar walls.

  Ulthus lay twisted on the floor before her. His eyes were flat. His chest, a ruin. His guts were tangled with the shreds of his robe and splashed across his face and the gleaming black flagstones.

  Rajen's knees were sticky, wet, and cold.

  She stood on shaking legs.

  The room reeked of blood and offal and fear.

  There was Kug, bent over, resting his hands on his knees. His back arched with each labored breath, but he breathed.

  Hatul stared at nothing, his expression bleak, leaning with both hands on his sword. But he stood.

  The prisoner they had freed, Fagahg, was bent over a body, absently cleaning his borrowed knife on the acolyte's robe as he studied her slack face.

  Whatever he sought there, he did so with an apparent hunger as unsettling as the carnage they all had wrought. She'd seen sadism like that too many times to not take heed. Something was wrong with that one.

  She sought out the pit and recognized Taghesh only by his child-arm, for what remained at the top of his neck was a collapsed, pulpy, jagged horror.

  Good.

  The pit itself seemed so much smaller, so much more plain, than when the Outsider had filled it.

  With stumbling, shuffling steps, she made her way to the edge.

  Talen had fallen on his back. His eyes were closed; tense, and tight. Strangely, several days' worth of patchwork stubble covered his swollen, bruised, bleeding face. Rajen was sure it had been smooth.

  Ranith lay sheltered in Talen's arms, riding his rising and falling chest, awake, alert, and calm.

  Rajen leaned over and tried to prise the baby from Talen’s embrace. Her arms and shoulders ached from so vigorously and thoroughly killing Ulthus.

  Talen scowled and moaned, eyes still tightly shut, and resisted.

  "It's Rajen." Her voice came out hoarse and low. "I have him."

  Talen's entire body relaxed. His brow smoothed. He relinquished the child.

  Rajen had never held a baby, but she had seen it done often enough. Ranith settled against her chest, seemingly oblivious to the damp gore on her tunic.

  "Kug. Hatul."

  They came out of their reveries. Hatul sheathed his sword, and both went to Talen. Fagahg joined them at the pit, silent and passive.

  Hatul got an arm under Talen's shoulders and lifted him without struggle or complaint. "Are you with us, sellsong?"

  Kug said, "Somehow he took the worst of us." Gently, he cupped the back of Talen's neck in his hand. "Talen. Can you walk with us?"

  Talen's black and purple eyelids opened to slits. He seemed about to smile, but the corner of his lip cracked and he flinched as blood trickled down his chin. "Worth," he muttered, and sputtered a weak laugh.

  Kug gave Rajen a nod. "Let's quit this place. Is the child..?"

  "Unharmed."

  Hatul said to Kug, "I'll get him up the stairs. Get your ax."

  Kug looked at where his bloody weapon lay on the stones. He sighed and retrieved it.

  Fagahg picked up Talen's sword.

  Rajen said, "That is his."

  Fagahg strode toward the stairs after Hatul and Talen with smooth, oddly measured steps, eyes forward.

  "He has no need for it now."

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Dennick

  Dennick was surprised to find the manor dark when he got Talen to the top of the stairwell.

  He could do it here, if he dared. Talen was helpless. Fagahg only had a knife, the same as Rajen. Kug would not have room to use his ax if Dennick caught him still on the stairs.

  Instead, he called out, "Someone grab a glowglobe, if you can."

  Fagahg slipped past him carrying the sellsong’s blade. "The path is no different in the dark."

  Dennick disagreed.

  Talen reached in vain for Fagahg. He made a mildly irritated noise low in his throat and let his arm drop.

  Kug took the globe Rajen passed him. "No one up here to mind the dark."

  Rajen nodded, frowning.

  They made their way unmolested to the entryway. Save the two they had killed on the way in, apparently all had been called to take part in the ritual. All found the same end.

  Fagahg opened the door and looked outside. "A gift…" he said, with a measure of reverence. To what?

  It was night.

  Dennick frowned. "It was just past Tahigh. We couldn't have been in there more than a mark."

  Rajen said, "Look at Talen's face."

  The sellsong grinned gingerly, eyes bright and wide and all for the infant in Rajen's arms, and for the magicker herself.

  Dennick squinted at Talen and noticed the spotty growth on his bruised cheeks.

  "This is… how?"

  Rajen looked as though she'd swallowed something sour. If Dennick was any judge—and he most certainly was—the magicker was more than bothered; she was scared.

  "Something about the… light," she said. "It offended possibility itself. Time is…" She huffed and shook her head. "It's too complicated to explain properly, and we're standing out in the open with the single most valuable thing in all Aenik. It's enough to say time was different in there. That's all."

  Kug's sadness weighed down his voice. "As I said." He sighed. "Talen took the worst of it."

  At least he lived, Dennick thought. Bile rose in his throat. He swallowed with a grimace and tried to sound reassuring. "He's muddled now, from the fight, Rajen, and his injuries, but in time…"

  She scowled absently. "Not just time." She sounded as though she was puzzling out some esoteric question and was not at all concerned by the fractured state of the magn Dennick thought was her friend.

  In light of sacrifices made, denied, and likely yet to come, he was irritated. "Don't you—"

  Talen said with perfect, casual clarity, "I really like your place, Kug."

  Declaration made, his face went slack.

  Kug said quietly, "Thank you, Talen."

  Fagahg said, "To the boat," and headed up the slope of the shallow valley, back the way they’d come.

  Kug went after him. Rajen followed. Talen slipped out from under Dennick's arm and scrambled, a jovial and loose-limbed poppet, to catch up with her.

  Dennick took up the rear, watching their colorless forms move through the leafy shadows of the young night.

  His path was narrowing.

  Talen was less than a threat, and was unarmed.

  Rajen was burdened with the child.

  Kug might be too shocked by betrayal to respond before Dennick could dispatch him. If not, his challenge would give Fagahg plenty of time to defend himself as well, and now he carried the skystone sword.

  Dennick might have to face them together. Still, he would prevail. For Agane.

  And then would come the infant.

  Ranith would be last.

  Dennick forced himself to paint it on the air between himself and Talen's back.

  Press two fingers against the kit's nose and mouth until he stopped breathing?

  Break the neck? He could do it with one hand.

  Pick him up by the ankles and bash his head against a tree?

  Why not just skewer the tiny thing on his sword, quick and slick?

  He forced himself to play out every awful choice as he walked. Fallen leaves and detritus crunched beneath his feet like tiny bones.

  Kug

  Kug reached the shore behind Fagahg, who stood calmly just beyond the gently lap
ping surf.

  The rowboat remained where they had tied it. Kug realized that just two days ago he had resolved to take a break from the Steadfast Capful and experience a boat ride on the Dalq Sea.

  There was that. They’d even let him row. Done, and twice in one day, before long.

  He dare not laugh for fear of what despairing noise might tumble from his mouth.

  Rajen joined him on the beach. Talen scampered between them and made nonsense noises at the baby, over Rajen's shoulder.

  Kug doubted there was any coming back for the sellsong. Whatever happened in that pit, something had broken in him.

  Finally, Hatul ambled across the gravel beach, head down. He stopped partway to the water's edge between Fagahg and Rajen and looked out over the water, obviously troubled. Perhaps now that the battle was passed, he was reflecting on how close he'd come to death. It happened, even with seasoned sellswords.

  Fagahg drew Talen's blade from where he'd hung it on his belt. "I am thankful for so many opportunities to serve." He seemed to be speaking to the weapon, or himself.

  It was odd, but not the strangest thing Kug had heard a warrior say to a sword.

  "Giving it back to Talen?" Kug hoped the suggestion was implicit in the question. The kit didn't have much left; he deserved to have his heirloom.

  Fagahg didn't appear to hear him. "The greatest of gifts for you, now," he said, "Nzaav."

  Wait. What?

  Fagahg raised the blade and ran for Rajen.

  Talen said, "Hey, that's my sword!" and got between them.

  Fagahg moved with a dancer's explosive athleticism, pivoting, lashing out with a kick that sent Talen stumbling back to fall into the surf.

  It gave Hatul the fraction of a blink he needed to draw his own sword and parry Fagahg's attack on Rajen. Skystone rang when it met Hatul's reinforced, hardened talonbone blade.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Rajen

  Instinctively, Rajen twisted violently to protect Ranith as she tripped backward, away from death. She found herself with Kug between her and the circling combatants.

  Ranith screamed and squirmed. Talen cried out, affronted and alarmed, but stayed on his ass, dripping and useless in the surf.

  Hatul snarled, "Whose sword are you?"

  Fagahg's voice was level and calm. "You had opportunities you didn't take."

  Hatul spat, "Vuldt."

  Kug rocked on his toes, ax at the ready. "Bring him around, Hatul, and I'll finish this!"

  Fagahg said, "His name is Dennick. He is an agent of the Alliance of Clans, sent to make sure the infant dies."

  Kug bellowed, "What?"

  Dennick howled with anguish and rage. Fagahg easily blocked his wild, lunging swings. Splintery chips flew off Dennick's sword with every ringing clash with the forged blade.

  Fagahg moved up the beach, forcing Dennick to put Kug behind him. "I give you his back, Kug." He advanced on Dennick, who had to dance beyond Fagahg's reach rather than parry if he was to preserve his weapon's integrity.

  Dennick called, "I was given a choice of death or death, Kug! But I fought for him! Rajen! I fought for him!"

  Rajen saw that, given a few more steps, Fagahg could try to flank Kug and get to her. She moved into the cold surf, putting the boat and Kug in his way.

  She tried to call up her Science; tried to see the probability streams, but an inconvenient and involuntary survival imperative cut her off from the distraction of magickal perception.

  It was like knowing a door to freedom and safety hung just a finger out of reach.

  So there she was.

  At the mercy of violent magn.

  Again.

  Maybe they'd kill each other.

  Kug

  Kug watched Fagahg and Hatul—or Dennick, apparently—dodge and circle and dance.

  How many horrible things could he witness between waking and sleeping, given enough time with eyes unshut? How long since he had slept?

  His ax was so heavy in his hands. He was exhausted by betrayal; by selfish magn making selfish choices that ruined… or took… lives.

  At least they had Ranith. Kug would not let that innocent fall into the hands of either of these splitpath guttersnipes.

  "Stay behind me, Rajen."

  "Indeed," came her laconic, if slightly tremulous, response.

  "Talen! Get in the boat. Be ready to get Rajen and the baby away from here."

  Talen slapped his hands in the water and whined, "I'm wet, Kug! It’s cold!"

  Kug ground his teeth and grimaced. No help there.

  He realized Fagahg had adjusted his attack to focus on Dennick's talonbone sword, rather than the magn himself. The weapon was well crafted; reinforced with chitin and horn, but no match for forged skystone. Soon, Dennick would be disarmed.

  Before that, Kug saw, Dennick might succumb to fatigue. He was slowing down. Once Fagahg aimed to slice flesh instead of fracture blade, Dennick was finished.

  "Kug!" Dennick ducked below Fagahg's swing, his own sword extended to his left, which made his counter swing too slow to connect. "My heartfast," he panted, "is dying. I was promised a cure. Her life, and mine, for Ranith's."

  Fagahg slammed Talen's sword down, driving the tip of Dennick’s into the ground. Dennick skipped back, dragging it free. The end of the blade remained in the dirt.

  Not long now.

  Streams of sweat or tears cut through the blood and grime on Dennick's face. "I can't do it, Kug. So I've doomed her. I've doomed her."

  He raised the broken bone sword in both hands.

  "She's going to die. But I won't do it."

  Dennick howled a war cry and rushed Fagahg, pressing him to defend, driving him back toward Kug.

  Fagahg chose to meet every swing. He smiled. Each strike made Dennick's sword more useless.

  Not long now.

  Dennick put whatever he had left into pounding the assassin's blade, punctuating each splintering blow with what would likely be his last spoken words.

  "I. Will. Not!"

  Unbidden, Kug thought of his sister, and of her daughter.

  Dennick's weapon cracked in half.

  Behind the combatants, Talen at last got up out of the surf. "Gimme my sword..!"

  Fagahg laughed.

  "I shall."

  Kug took two broad steps forward and buried his ax across Fagahg's back, just below his shoulder blades.

  The upper third of Fagahg's torso pitched forward. Blood geysered, then tapped, staccato, on the ground; a quick, hot, black cloudburst coming down. His legs buckled. The whole mess folded onto the beach at Dennick's feet.

  Dennick stared at the body, slack-jawed. He raised his head and gaped at Kug.

  "Twice now," he said.

  "I know something about impossible choices," Kug replied.

  Talen trudged up the beach and pried his sword out of Fagahg's hand. He inspected it, sheathed it, and took a long look at Fagahg's steaming, opened corpse.

  He spat generously on the magn's blankly beatific face, then looked at his companions.

  "We have to get Ranith home now."

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Dennick

  The next morning, after a long night of interrogation with Dunak and restless sleep in a room that was not a holding cell by name, Dennick, Kug and Rajen were escorted to the Alwardendyn's personal office of counsel deep in the administrative wing of the palace. The choice of such an intimate venue surprised Dennick.

  Perhaps the Alwardendyn preferred the conversation to come to be discreet.

  Dunak, sullen and uncommunicative, led them in. Already there was Aenikantag Warden Kadga, and no less than the First Speaker of the Caretakers, Jae Fen. Two palace guards stood on either side of the door.

  Alwarden Hagahl sat alone behind the great, curved, double desk of the Alwardendyn. His face was haggard and his eyes were red. Ranith cooed contentedly from a hammock slung across his chest.

  Shaper's Hand… where was Alwarden Deanae?
r />   Alwarden Hagahl put a stabilizing hand under Ranith and stood up. As protocol demanded, Dennick and his companions bowed their heads.

  "Dennick Aganei. Rajen Malarenin. Kug Khalel. We—"

  Dennick would not raise his eyes until it was proper, so he only heard the Alwarden draw a quick, short breath, as if flinching from some pain.

  Alwarden Hagahl continued, with emphasis. "I." Dennick's heart ached. He feared the implication of that singular word. "I… invite your truth."

  Dennick assumed Rajen and Kug were unaware of the prescribed response, so he spoke for them.

  "We bring our truth."

  It might be all he had left.

  He heard the Alwarden retake his seat behind the great desk, and so he looked up. Kug and Rajen followed his lead.

  Alwarden Hagahl glanced at Ranith. Dennick saw the skin around the magn's eyes tense. His jaw tightened fractionally. His nostrils flared, he blinked, and, so fortified, regarded them again.

  "Tell me how you found my son."

  The three of them had discussed this on the crossing back to Aenikantag. It would be the same song they sang to Dunak last night, together and individually, Talen excluded. His combat delirium had worsened with time. They were told healers would attend to him.

  Kug began.

  "Alwarden, it was the sellsong, Talen, who discovered," his face twisted, "that my own sister's daughter, with her heartfast, had hidden the child in a room in my tavern."

  Alwarden Hagahl turned to Dunak. "You inspected that place. And yet… you did not find my son."

  Dunak reddened. "No, Alwarden."

  To Kug, the Alwarden said, "And you. Master of your house. How is it you were unaware of this treachery?" Before Kug could respond, he added, "You must see that it is easier for me to believe that, in fact, you were?"

  Kug nodded steadily. "I do. I do see that." He sighed, scowling. "My Lama… I raised her as my own daughter. She used me."

  The Alwarden squinted at him. "My question remains unanswered."

  Dennick watched Dunak lose some of his contrite slump to watch Kug intently.

  Kug said, "The Steadfast Capful has a long history, Alwarden. Those who built it included several concealed spaces. My guess is that Lama and Sot hid themselves within without bothering to announce their plan to me, then moved to an unoccupied room once the guard had left."